#i'm always the one giving sweet gestures out of nowhere and just trying to make girls feel so special. i try so hard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

more-than-fluff · 2 months

Text

Half of My Heart

Taehyung x Y/N

Genre - Singlefather Fluff/Smut

Summary - A little runaway has you encountering single father Taehyung a man who left you wanting more. You just hope you see him again.

Notes - This is something I haven't really written before, the smut is at the end. I wanted to try and focus on the romance a little more so I hope it's still good!

Working another shift in your cafe is making the day go quickly. It's busy as always with customers ordering their usual coffee and sweet treats.

Suddenly you hear a child speak, "Mommy?" You look down and see a little girl standing at the counter looking at you. Very confused you approached the girl, "I'm sorry little one, but I'm not your Mom."

A man's voice then comes through, "Lana, come back!" You look up and see what you assume to be her Dad approaches her.

The girl's little eyebrows dropped down as she looked sadly at you "I…want my mommy.." She said softly again while her father was still following her.

You look up and see him come closer, "Look, your dad has come!"

The girl finally looked away from you towards her dad who was standing a few metres away from you. She looked back at you as if she wanted to say something but quickly walked to her father and hid her face into her daddy's arms.

You look at the man and give him a smile, relieved that she wasn't alone anymore.

The man looked at you while holding his little girl. The girl had her arms wrapped around her father and her head on his chest. She didn't want to even look at you probably because she was shy. She was probably 3 or 4 years old. The man finally broke the awkward silence "Sorry..My daughter ran out of nowhere. We live nearby and I just had to come here find her."

"That's okay, I'm glad she's safe now." You reply.

He smiled at you and said with a little chuckle "Yeah I'm glad too but this little girl is very curious..I always say to her not to talk or walk away with strangers but..I guess she wanted to explore today because she ran away from me. She's such a stubborn one" He laughed and scratched the back of his little girl while she was still hugging him.

You laugh with him, "Well she seems to have a really good father, keeping an eye on her."

He looked at you with a little smile "I'm doing my best alone as a single father but it gets hard sometimes to raise her by myself. You would understand that right? He asks you curiously then looks at his little girl "Right Lana?" He was talking to her while she was still hiding her beautiful little face in his chest.

"Of course." You look at the man and he looks pretty tired so you decide to pull a cake out of the counter and present it to him, "On the house, please enjoy."

He was a little surprised by your act as you pulled the cake from the counter and presented it to him. He wasn't expecting that at all but he looked at you with gratitude "Are you sure you don't want anything in exchange?"

You shake your head, "I know how hard it can be."

He finally managed to get a clearer look at your face now and his smile faded a bit with a little surprise "Can I ask your name?"

"It's Y/N."

"Y/N. That's a beautiful name. I'm Taehyung and this is my sweetheart Lana" He says as he grabs the cake from your hand. His eyes never left your face as he thanks you for the cake. He was now curious about you and wanted to know more about you. His little girl however looked at the cake and started to lick her lips but was still hiding her face in her father's chest.

"Please have a seat." You gesture to one of the empty tables in the shop.

Still surprised by your gesture he decided to accept it anyway with a little smile. He took his daughter by the hand and gently sat her on the chair. Once he also sat down he grabbed a piece of the cake and fed it to his little girl. She didn't protest to his act and allowed him to feed her.

He would occasionally look at you while talking to his little girl. He noticed you were busy working as he heard you serving other customers. He decided not to disturb you as he continued to talk to his little girl, giving her more pieces of the cake. Soon though his little girl asked him "Daddy, who's that girl?" He then smiled at her as he looked at you.

You kept smiling as you looked busy with customers. The little girl looked at her father as she waited for his response and the father pointed to your direction "That girl is Miss Y/N, my sweetheart. She's the one who gave you the cake" He looked at you again and smiled. He wasn't lying either to his little girl as he was attracted to you the moment he looked at you. He found you beautiful.

His little daughter eventually finishes her slice of the cake. She looked back at him and pointed at her plate again as she wanted more "Daddy, can I have more?" She looked cute while asking her father for more cake.

You chuckle to yourself, trying not to make it obvious that you're listening.

He gave her another piece of cake to satisfy her but she wanted even more "Mooooorreeeee" She said and pointed at her plate again as she wanted another piece. Her father didn't mind giving her another piece. She was just too adorable. He finally gave up and said to her "No, that's enough sweetpie. Otherwise you would get a stomach ache"

As you prepared to clean up your cafe, the little girl's father was packing his stuff, ready to leave the cafe with his daughter. The father looked at you again as he was getting up, still keeping an eye on his little girl. Little girl kept insisting him to have more cake but her father was firm with her. She finally got it and decided to go with her father. "Thank you again for the cake" He said to you with a little smile as he was carrying his little girl.

You smile to him, "It was the least I could do, please visit again."

He smiled back at you again as he walked out of your bakery with his little girl. The little girl turned her head back for a second to look at you before she left with her father, you give a little wave before you close up the cafe.

It was summer time, so everything was green. The air was light and it was a breeze. You felt the wind through your hair as you were walking back home. Your shift ended on time today. You would probably sit back and relax as soon as you get inside your home.

You were tired and exhausted so you just sat down, feeling every bit of tiredness in your body. You were just staring at the walls while sitting. All you could think was how adorable his little girl was and how handsome he was the moment he looked at you. You felt a bit of butterflies in your stomach, imagining if those two ever visited your bakery shop again.

_____________________________________

The next day came by. The air was still fresh and it was quite hot. You were already in the bakery, preparing things for your day ahead. You couldn't stop thinking about that cute little girl from yesterday and her father. You were hoping that they would come in again, probably buy a cake for his daughter, which would give you a chance to have a real conversation with him.

You finished preparing everything and got everything ready. The oven was on, cakes were baked and coffee was ready for your customers. You walked to the counter and sat behind it, ready to welcome any customers that would go inside your shop.

The first few hours of your shift went by fast as usual because of your regular customers. You were serving them cakes and coffee. They were just chatting with you as usual about how their morning was so far and how their day would go ahead. You found it so nice of them to drop by your bakery before work everyday as they're helping you get through your shift faster.

You kept hoping that the little girl and her father would come by again during your shift. The time kept ticking and you were losing some hope that they would actually come by the bakery today. Your eyes were always watching the door as if you were waiting for something. But as the day went by, there was still no sight of the two. It was just your regular customers coming by today. Soon your shift was ending and it was closing time.

Just like yesterday, you started to clean the cafe and close for the night. No customers were coming inside anymore so you finally had a some few quiet moments to yourself. You kept thinking about how today could have been so much better if only the little girl and her father had stopped by again. You continued cleaning up the cafe with that thought in mind. The place was empty now and it was finally silent. It was finally time to close the bakery shop for today.

You locked the doors, turned off all the lights and took a look at your bakery, making sure there was nobody inside. Once you were sure of that you were leaving. You were now locking the front door behind you as you stepped out. It was quiet outside with almost nobody roaming around. You decided that it was a good idea to go home and just rest. After all, the day was pretty long. You started walking back to your home while thinking about how your day could have gone if Taehyung and his little girl had visited.

You kept walking back home slowly.. you didn't stop or anything, you just kept walking and thinking about it. You felt disappointed that the two didn't even stop by your bakery today. But maybe that's just how it was meant to be like you said. You kept walking, still upset about the whole thing and thinking about whether or not they would stop by tomorrow. Eventually you arrived at your home and stepped inside.

___________________________________

You woke up the next day, probably with some hopes that the little girl and her father would come by again but you tried not to get your hopes too high up. The air was a bit hot as usual, but the day seemed to be a bit windy compared to yesterday. You prepared yourself before heading to work at the bakery. You walked all the way there and once you arrived, you immediately started your shift again.

The day was going through the same routine like before. Customers coming by, you serving them cakes and coffee. After each customer you just kept thinking that maybe the next one would be the father with his daughter. You started to lose some hope but you refused to give up on that dream that the two would stop by your bakery today. The time kept going by slow with every one of your customers that passed by. Eventually your shift was ending again.

You're all ready to leave when you hear the door open, you turn and see Taehyung walk in. Your heart started beating fast when you recognized that it was the man. What were the chances? What did he want to buy anyway? Was he actually alone? What happened to his little girl. You couldn't help but think of these questions in your mind as you saw him walking towards you.

"Just in time, I was about to close." You say, trying to hide your happiness in seeing him.

"I'm sorry I came here at this time when you were about to close." He says to you as he approached the counter. His voice sounded smooth but it had a soft and sweet tone to it. You realized that he was actually alone this time and probably came here without his daughter. He was probably just wanting to buy another cake for her or something.

"That's okay, what can I get you?"

He looked at the cakes that you had prepared for the day and pointed out the one he wanted "I'll take one of those chocolate cakes please." He said it with a polite smile, looking straight at you. His voice was also soft but it had a little huskiness to it that would make almost any girls blush. The way he looked at you made you feel a bit of butterflies in your stomach. The way he spoke was so smooth that you had a hard time not melting when talking to him. The man continued to look at you as he waited for your reply.

"Of course." You smile at him, trying not to fall for his smooth voice. It feels different as he's alone this time.

He noticed how you were trying not to fall for his smooth voice. He knew he had that effect on you, knowing that that his voice was like a weapon for him. He never got bored of having that power over a girl that made her fall for him without even trying. But for today, he stayed calm with that weapon of his and kept his voice soft, sweet with a little huskiness to it. He smiled back to you politely and said in his soft and sweet tone "Thanks. Can I ask something?"

You reach for the cake and return back to place it in a bag for him, "Of course."

"Good.." He said with that soft and sweet tone which almost made you melt again. You could literally hear your heart beating fast because of the way he was speaking. The way he was looking at you was like pure sugar. He didn't realize how much his eyes affected you. He decided to ask you another question "Do you have any plans tonight?"

You shake your head in reply, wondering what his true reason for coming here at closing was.

"Well do you want to have something to eat with me tonight?" He asked this question in that same sweet tone while looking at you. He had no problem in asking you out just like that after seeing your response to his other questions. His flirtatious tone and look were definitely showing that he's asking you out and hopefully you would say yes to it. His eyes were full of confidence as if he already knew that you would say yes.

"I'd love to." You say, figuring out that's why he came.

He got his answer from you. All he needed was a "yes" from you and he managed to get one from you. So he smiled to you in an appreciative of your answer while letting out a soft laugh "Good." He says to you in that same, husky tone. You could swear you felt your knees turn into jelly because of this man.. but he kept calm still while waiting for something. You don't even know if you can call this flirting or not but all you knew is that he's asking you out for dinner tonight and you agreed to it

You finished closing up the cafe and decided to walk with him. He decided to take the lead as he was the one who asked you out so he should get things going. You were walking with him outside, feeling the heat from the summer sun. You also started to pay attention to what he looked like up close as if you never really noticed how handsome he was before. You were paying attention to things like the way he dressed, his eyes and his hairstyle. It all just made you more attracted to him as you kept walking by his side.

"So where are we going?" You ask, looking up at him.

"It's going to be a surprise. It's better if I just lead you somewhere without telling you first." He says to you with a little smile. He's been quite secretive about the place he's bringing you to. If he tells you beforehand, it might not be much of a surprise to you. So he decides to keep his lips sealed for the time being. It was a bit tempting to know about the location but he doesn't sound like he'll break that promise just yet.

You smile and love how he is at the moment, he looks excited, a little nervous but you can see he's trying to hide it with a wave of confidence. "Okay."

"Just trust me. You'll love the place." He says to you as he continues to walk. His confident look made you believe that the place he's planning to bring you to is really nice and fun. So you decided to trust him as you kept walking. It felt a bit weird not knowing about the location but the intrigue of finding out where he's actually bringing you to was enough to keep you interested in him. He just gave you a small smile as he just kept walking while you both were enjoying the evening weather of the summer sun.

You were just walking with him through various different paths and roads. The more you were walking with him, the more intrigued and curious you became to know where he was actually taking you. The suspense of not knowing where the location is was building up as you two were walking and now you could see the location which was quite a distance away. He started to slow down his pace as you two approached the destination

"Okay, we're finally here. Here's where I'm taking you to."

You've finally arrived at the destination where his surprised for you was brought to. You looked at him when you guys came to stopped and he looked back in return. The place looked like a fancy restaurant that was situated in a somewhat quite and peaceful area outside the city. The facade was lit up and had a pretty view with the lights and the decor. It reminded you a lot about romantic date night.

"Really?" You take in the environment, it's beautiful but you weren't prepared. You look to your clothes. "I'm not exactly dressed for this place." You smile at him, a little shy.

He looked at you and noticed how you were feeling a little shy because of how your clothes didn't really match the attire of this place. He looked at you from head to toe first and then he nodded and gave you a small smile. There was a hint of amusement mixed with his smile "Don't worry. This place is pretty chill. They don't have much of a dress code and I think you'll do fine." He says to you as he tries to ease your shyness away before walking towards the entrance.

"Just follow me. I'll take care of the rest." He says to you as walks towards the entrance with a confident stride. The place was pretty quiet despite how fancy it looked from the outside. The exterior was pretty grand and the interior had a nice atmosphere when you entered. And yes, you were probably a bit underdressed for the place compared to everyone else who was wearing something nice like suits and dresses.. but it was fine. After all, he promised that the place was pretty chill and it was true. The atmosphere just felt relaxed overall.

You reach your table and he holds the chair out for you, you sit and look at him. "Thank you." He's such a gentleman

"No problem." He says to you as he pulls out the chair for you and then he goes around the table and sits opposite of you. He was indeed a gentleman as he is very kind and thoughtful towards you. After you sat down, you both looked around you. The place definitely looked more classy now that you were inside. It was pretty cozy and the decor looked elegant. The way he chose this restaurant is what made you more appreciative of this man. Suddenly a waiter comes up to you guys with menus, smiling.

"Thanks." He says to the waiter politely with a smile as the waiter nods and walks away. You noticed how much manners he had on top of being kind and smooth. He could be like a total gentleman with this attitude of his. Once the waiter was gone, he started to look through the menu. He was thinking of his order that he was going to order. He didn't say anything though he just kept silent while he was checking the menu. He's probably planning out everything on what's going to happen in the evening that's for sure.

You read over the menu, it's a little pricey but you don't let him know that you can only get the cheaper things on the menu, "The salads look delicious."

He noticed how you were trying to look through the menu. The salads did look delicious as there were some interesting flavors on there. He looked over at the salads as well and he noticed your interest in the salads "You planning on ordering salad?" He asked you in a soft tone, looking at you expression he can tell that something is off.

"If the other stuff's too pricey for you, I could pay for you." He said to you with a smirk. The way he said it sounds like it's no big deal for him to do that for you. In fact, he's actually offering to cover the whole thing for tonight and just pay for it himself. He wasn't even shy to offer it to you and he sounded sure of himself that's for sure.

You look up at him. "Oh I wouldn't ask that of you."

"Ah come on, it's fine. I don't mind covering it for you. I just want you to enjoy your own meal too as well without worrying about the price if that's what's keeping you from getting anything else from the menu. Besides I'm the one who asked you out on the date and I owe you for that cake, so I'm paying." He said to you with a small grin on his face showing how kind and thoughtful he was. He seemed determined to pay for your meal too. You thought he was sweet yet he seemed pretty confident as well.

You smile. "Okay, thank you." Okay this man can't be real. He's a gentleman from a storybook or something.

"No problem." He says to you in that soft and smooth tone again. The way he was so determined to pay for you really showed how much of a gentleman he really is. He seems like he wouldn't change his mind on this despite you trying to change it back. Either way you were really going to accept his offer as he wanted you to get anything you want. He just seemed so nice and kind that you probably didn't deserve him. Once the waiter came back, you both started to place your orders with the waiter.

You order your meal and look at Taehyung as he orders his. "Alright, I'll have the ribeye steak with a side of mash potatoes." He said to the waiter who wrote the order down for him. The waiter nodded and walked away to send the orders to the kitchen. Once the waiter left, all that was left was just the two of you once again sitting there. He just smiled to you as the table became silent again. The vibe was getting more intense and romantic due to his choice of restaurant. The whole setting just had the mood for romance.

"This place is beautiful." You say looking around and taking everything in but your eyes always landing on him in the end.

"I knew you'd like it. The whole atmosphere and vibe of this place is really great." He says back to you with that sweet, soft tone as he was smiling at you right now. The way he chose this place showed how much he thought about you or at least that's the way you saw it. The way this place looked was a bit pricey but he probably thought that you'd like it anyway.. so that's why he decided to take you here for dinner.

You can't stop smiling at him, you can't believe he came back to you.

"So.. since we're done with the orders.. Can I ask you another thing?"

You nod in response, "Of course."

"Well.." He hesitates for a bit of time but then he decided to just go for it. He had some other plans for this evening after all and he wanted to know your answer to his question first. He takes a deep breath first before speaking again "What do you like to do during your free time?" He finally asks you the question he's been asking himself about you these past days.

You think over the question, "I normally go for walks, draw or read really. I've never been much of a people person." You look down, realising your answer exposes you as quite the introvert.

"That's fine though. Nothing wrong with being an introvert." He says to you as he noticed how you looked down and probably feeling a bit anxious from how your answer made you seem like an introvert. He didn't mind if someone was an introvert. Besides, he was pretty introverted himself so he can relate to you on some level. He decided to ask you another question after that "Do you like being alone.. or do you find it quite lonely most of the times?"

You look back at him, "I guess it can be lonely, but that's what the cafe is for. I see many people everyday."

"Yeah that's true. But there's still some difference on being alone with other people and being really lonely when you're actually alone with yourself. I was kind of wondering which one you were and I'm guessing that it's the latter?" He asks you in his husky voice with a slightly concerned tone. He was probably curious on knowing what kind of person you are.

"You're probably right there." You reply.

"I see… Do you sometimes feel like it would be nice to have someone you could talk to and spend time with sometimes?" He says to you with a soft, sympathetic look in his eyes. He was probably curious if you ever felt that way sometimes. He was feeling quite interested to know about your emotions, what's really going on in your head and what you actually feel on the inside.

He noticed how you're looking at him with a gentle smile. Your gentle smile was enough to make him feel that butterflies in his stomach again. He was starting to feel a bit of an attraction to you in those moments "..and having someone who can be there to hug you when you're feeling sad or comfort you when you're feeling scared about something.

"I wouldn't know if I deserve it." You say honestly in your reply. You're so used to being alone that you honestly don't know what it would be like.

"Well." He suddenly says something that caught your attention and he probably thought of this the moment he got to know you and the way you acted "The way you act, your kindness, the way you carry yourself, you definitely deserve someone like this and you'd do so well in a relationship. If you ask me, you deserve someone a lot better than what you think you deserve."

He looked at you and noticed how your cheeks were beginning to have a slight pinkish hue. He's able to tell how you're really starting to blush right now and he found it quite adorable. The way your blush looked on you was a nice way of showcasing your beauty. He smirked back at you a moment later and then he continued on "Honestly, I'd be grateful to have someone like you."

Your eyes widen at him, "I don't know about that."

"Well, I mean it. I'm sure there's plenty of guys out there who would say the same thing as me." He says to you as he was confident when he said those words. He actually didn't doubt it a bit that several guys would gladly take the chance on you. You were a catch after all. You were pretty, kind, a good communicator and you also have a good personality. He couldn't see any downsides on dating someone like you because you were pretty much the whole package in his eyes.

"Well, they've been keeping themselves quiet." You joke a little but your voice is shaky.

He chuckles when he heard that joke, but he noticed how your voice was a bit shaky. He didn't know if you were still feeling nervous or was it something else at this point. He thought maybe the compliment might've made you a little shy. So he decides to ease the mood by saying something a bit playful "Oh don't get too cocky now. I'm pretty sure they want to tell you the same thing.. but they're just too nervous to do it yet."

You chuckle at him, he makes you feel calm in the moment, "Anyway, what about your daughter, tell me about her."

He noticed how his calm attitude made you feel at ease with how you were acting right now. You did feel calm and you seemed to feel really comfortable talking to him. But that reminded him of where he was going with the conversation next. So he answers what you asked him "Oh my daughter? She's currently being taken cared of by her grandparents from my wife's side who passed away many years ago. I don't really get the chance to see her as often anymore but she's doing well.. she's pretty bright and really friendly too."

"I'm sorry about your wife, I hope you didn't mind me asking." You take a moment before adding. "She's a beautiful little girl."

"Don't worry, it's fine that you asked me about my wife. I know it's been a while but it's still hard sometimes to think about her now. Thank you though for the sympathy." He says to you as he smiles. The memories of his deceased wife still linger in his mind from time to time but he knew that they were in a better place right now.. That's the only thing that mattered. He then goes on to continue the conversation "Yes she indeed is pretty, just like her mother."

You love seeing his face when he talks about his daughter, "You seem like a really good father."

"Yeah, well I try my best really. I don't want her to grow up without knowing that her father loves her so much. I want her to know I'm always here for her whenever she needs me. Although sometimes it's hard to make time for her but I always try my best to do so." He says to you in a soft, sweet tone. He really loves his daughter and it shows. You can see the love in his eyes when he talks about her. It looks genuine.

"From what I've seen of her she's great, and loves cake." You smile at him.

He chuckles at the mention of her loving cakes. That was one thing he couldn't disagree with you on because his daughter liked cakes a lot "You got that right. My daughter is really sweet on cakes and she loves to try out different flavors. It's one of the things she looks forward to most. Even though she could sometimes make a huge mess with the icing, I still love how cute she looks when she does it."

You laugh, "Those are the things you'll miss most when she grows up."

He smiled at your laugh. Honestly these were the moments when she was younger where he would miss most once she grew up as time passes by "That's true though. I'll miss times like this a lot with her.. and even things like her messy tendencies with cakes. She definitely is a messy eater but I don't know.. there's just something cute about it."

You chuckle. Finishing your food, it was delicious and Taehyung asks the waiter for the bill. The waiter comes back with the bill and he hands it to him. He gives him a small nod and then he looks at the total bill. After looking over it he hands the waiter his card to pay for the whole thing and then he gives you a small smile.

"Are you sure? I can pay for myself, it's not a big deal honestly."

"Yeah. Don't worry, I got it." He said with a reassuring tone as he wanted to cover the whole bill as he said before. It was something he said he'd do before and he's staying true to his word. He wanted you to feel more comfortable that he's paying for you. He didn't want you to feel like you had to pay for yourself after everything. He just wanted it to be a nice and wholesome evening for you. He gave you a sweet smile to assure you on his decision on this.

You smile at him. "Thank you."

"No problem." He says calmly as he gives you another sweet smile. He didn't feel bad at all for paying the whole bill for you. He just wanted to go through with paying for it as he said before

The waiter comes back with his card and the receipt with the total amount. He takes both from the waiter and puts his card back into his wallet and then he looks at you smiling "Should we go now?"

This was the moment. The moment where you two were going to head out of the restaurant and continue the evening from there. You stood up and he also follows suit as he got up. The waiter noticed this and went to clear the table as you guys started to walk towards the exit. The dinner was now over but you both looked very happy.

You leave the restaurant and start to walk. You link your arm in his and simply enjoy his company, "Tonight was just perfect, thank you."

He looked down as you link your arms with him as you both started to walk. A gentle sigh leaves him as he smiles and his cheeks start to blush again. That was one more moment of you being with him that made him feel that butterflies in his stomach. He felt like these moments are becoming a recurring thing where in every moment you're with him, you always make him feel all those butterflies. He was truly comfortable with you like he had never been with someone before.

"You're welcome." He says back in a gentle tone

You continue walking, you lean onto him. He smells amazing and feels even better. You don't want the night to end.

The way you leaned in closer to him, your body was pretty much very close to his now. He was glad you were comfortable with how close the two of you were now. He smiled softly at you as he smelled the fragrance on your hair. It smelled very nice and he even noticed how your body feels next to him. It felt warm and welcoming.. like something he could really get used to. Neither of you want this night to end. It almost felt like a dream with how perfect the night has been so far while walking side by side together.

You sigh, "I don't want this to end."

"Neither do I. It feels very nice to have you all to myself right now." He says to you in an almost hushed voice as he stares at you with a gentle look. The way he's looking at you makes you feel like he's completely smitten with you. It feels like he's willing to spend more time with you just to enjoy this moment even longer.

You look up at him and lock eyes for a moment. He notices how you were looking up to him and you both locked eyes for a small bit of time. He felt a strong desire to move into a bit of a physical move. He felt like that he wants to kiss you right now because he was starting to feel a bit more attracted to you now. Maybe it's the setting and atmosphere but he's liking you much more now and he wants to share this affection with you.

He finally goes in for the move and he slowly leans in towards your lips until your lips actually touch. He doesn't try to be too fast about it as he just wants to do this in a slow and gentle manner. He wants to be very careful with this because he doesn't want to go too strong with you. As your lips touch, he just wanted to hold this moment as long as possible before he pulls away. Maybe he'll do this again later but right now he just wants this long, slow and gentle moment with you.

He continues to lean in and he actually deepens the kiss as you both continue to kiss. His lips began to move along with yours slowly and it felt almost as if his tongue wants to meet yours. He's really starting to get into this kiss with you and he's really feeling it now. The emotions he was feeling, the passion that's rising now as he's doing this and the fact that you're kissing him back makes him feel very amazing and happy inside.

He pulls back and cups your cheek, "How can I make you mine?" He asks you.

His words made you blush and your cheeks started to turn red. You were just not expecting this question to come out of him. You've never been put in a situation like this before where a guy wants to make you his all. You found it cute that he asked this to you. It made you feel special

You stayed quiet for a bit as you looked into his eyes and he looked into yours as well. You couldn't help but smile as you felt the intensity coming from him

"Make me yours?" You asked him back in a questioning tone. "I think I already am."

He looks down to you, taking in all of your features.

"Come home with me?"

You look up at him and nod. Unable to process anything else than just him. He leads you to his home, it wasn't far from the restaurant. Did he plan that, maybe? But you don't care.

You enter the door and you can't keep your hands off of each other. Lips constantly crashing into each other, hand exploring your body and yours running through his thick hair.

Within moments, clothes are gone. The gentle father you met the other day has disappeared for a moment and you left with a man stripped down to nothing.

He stand back for a moment.

"Wait, are you sure want to do this?"

You smile as he asks, there he is. The man you met.

You bring your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. He moves his head into your hand.

"I'm yours, I want nothing but you right now." You say looking into his eyes. He needs that reassurance from you right now.

"Oh baby." He says before kissing you once more. He lifts you and takes you to his bed. Dropping you softly, he trails kisses over your whole body.

"You're so beautiful, from the moment I saw you. I couldn't stop thinking about you. I want you so much, I can't hold back anymore."

He stops his kisses and looks to you once more, that reassurance is a constant but you give it.

"Then don't, show me everything."

He leaves a final kiss before reaching and grabbing a condom and wrapping it before dropping on top of you, his lips so close.

You look at him, cupping his face. "I want this just as much as you do, please. Show me." You say once more, pulling his face to yours kissing him.

He leans down and slowly pushes himself into you, your eyes don't leave each others as you both gasp in unison. His eyes drop as he picks up speed. Your moans getting louder as the pleasure builds.

"So good baby." He says as he thrusts into you.

"More, please." You whisper into his ear.

He takes your word and pushes into you fully. Your back arches, the pleasure is overwhelming. It builds more and more, you can't hold it back anymore. You need it, you need him.

"Give it to me baby, I need you to give in to me." He's practically whimpering into your ear as he picks up speed one more time.

You can't hold it in anymore, the stars come and you break apart under him. You feel his body shake as he succumbs to the pleasure. You have become one in this, you both needed each other and it has bound you together.

He falls beside you, his chest rising and falling harshly with each breath. You take a moment to compose yourself.

You turn and watch him for a moment, his features standing out even more after discovering every part of him. This beautiful being that you can call yours, as you are his.

He closes his eyes and says. "That was..." He can't finish.

You chuckle to yourself. "Amazing, everything you needed and more?"

He laughs to himself, he covers his face with his arm and takes a deep breath. He then peaks from his cover, and pulls you close to him. He holds you close and kisses your forehead.

"You're my everything." He pauses. "Well, half of my everything."

You look up to him.

"My daughter has half of my heart."

You smile at him, nuzzling back into his chest.

"You have the other half."

#kpop scenarios #bts scenarios #bts v #taehyung scenarios #taehyung smut #bts taehyung #taehyung #bts v scenarios #v smut #v scenarios #kpop #v #bts #bts smut #kpop smut

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spnhunter4life · 1 year

Text

Familiar Chapter 2

Word Count: 7.9k

Warnings: little bit of canon typical violence

A/N: This story was originally meant to be a one shot. But then I decided, "You know what? I'm not really happy with this ending. I'll just write one more little chapter to wrap things up." 🙄 Well guess what? If you've been following my work, you know that things always turn out longer than expected. So my 'little' wrap up chapter ended up being kind of long and had to be brought to a stopping point. So here's chapter 2 for you, and you can expect a third chapter as well! That will definitely be the last chapter though (she says with way less confidence than she would like).

Thanks to everyone who has liked, commented on, or reblogged the first chapter! I'm completely blown away by how many notes it's gotten. If you missed the first chapter, read it here!

Summary: Y/N comes back from a walk one day only to realize she can't remember where she was or what she was doing. The new case she and the boys were working must be abandoned in order to recover her memory.

Masterlist

Two months had passed since the shapeshifter hunt, and despite Sam’s encouragement, I still hadn’t said anything to Dean. He was making it extremely difficult for me to ignore my feelings for the older brother the way I always used to. Between his constant pointed looks and making up excuses to leave us alone together, I was about ready to snap.

My dreams about Dean were becoming more frequent too. With thoughts of him almost always on the forefront of my mind, he regularly featured in my dreams. I still had dreams like the one the shapeshifter had taunted me with, but these dreams had branched out into more sweet versions of Dean that left me longing for him even more.

I woke up from one such dream – one where Dean and I were in our very own house, snuggled up together on the couch, a movie playing in the background as we talked – in the back of the Impala. I looked around and saw that we were still on the interstate. We were on our way to Nebraska to check out a new case Sam had found. Four teenagers had shown up dead, all apparently drowned, but their bodies nowhere near water.

“How much further is it?” I asked.

“About 20 miles,” Dean answered.

I sighed and leaned my head against the window. Sam met my eyes in the rearview mirror and raised an eyebrow in question. I just shook my head. He glanced at Dean and back at me, smiling at the small frown on my face this gesture caused. He was getting annoyingly good at figuring out when I had been dreaming about his brother.

By the time we got to a motel, I was irritated and in need of some time away from both brothers. I told them I was going to walk to the diner we saw about 10 blocks away and bring home food for everybody. It would give me time to clear my head. I really needed to find time to talk to Sam about stopping all the teasing and trying to be supportive. Even though it wasn’t his intention, it was only making things worse.

~~~~~

“There you are!” Dean’s relieved voice greeted me as soon as I walked in the door.

“Seriously, Y/N, what took you so long?” Sam chimed in. “We were getting worried. I think Dean was about ready to start a search party.”

“Sorry,” I apologized, not sure why they were so worked up. “I haven’t been gone that long.”

“It shouldn’t have taken you an hour and a half,” Dean argued. “Where’s the food?” He added almost as an afterthought.

“What food?”

“The whole reason you left was to get food,” Sam told me. “What have you been doing?”

“Nothing,” I answered. Then I thought about it. What had I been doing? I was certain I hadn’t been gone for very long, but then, I realized that all I could remember was the walk back to the motel. “Just walking I guess? I don’t actually remember.”

“How can you not remember?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know!” I yelled, frustrated and confused.

“Ok, well what do you remember?” Sam asked.

“I remember… waking up in the Impala on the drive here. I guess I kind of remember getting to the motel. Other than that… I’ve got nothing.”

“Come here,” Dean said, gesturing for me to walk over to him.

“Why?” I wondered.

“Just come here.”

I walked over to him and he immediately began feeling around my head.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Looking for a lump or some other injury,” he said, continuing his search.

“I think I’d know if I hit my head,” I told him, backing out of his reach.

“Apparently you’ve lost your memory. How are you supposed to know what happened?”

“If I’d been hit on the head hard enough for it to affect my memory, don’t you think I’d have a horrible headache at the very least?” I reasoned.

“Point taken. But clearly something happened. We need to figure out what.”

“Let’s just all head towards the diner,” Sam suggested. “We still need to eat, and maybe something on the way will jog Y/N’s memory.”

Nobody had any better ideas and he was right, we did still need to eat. So we went outside and started walking towards the diner. We’d made it six blocks when Sam stopped us. This particular part of town was the area where commercial buildings started being replaced by residential. There were multiple small businesses scattered throughout the neighborhood. Some buildings were obviously both people’s place of work and their home.

“Do you think you might have gone in there?” He asked, pointing at the music store across the street. Through the window I could see guitars spaced out on the wall, a row of pianos under them. I loved the piano. I grew up taking lessons and badly missed being able to play. It was an easy, surefire way for me to calm down and clear my head, a fact both brothers were aware of.

“You did seem stressed when you left,” Dean agreed. “I’d actually be surprised if you didn’t go in. And that would explain why you were gone for so long.”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t explain my memory loss. Think about it. An hour and a half, just gone. What are the odds of me forgetting such a specific chunk of time? Someone had to have done this to me. We need to find out who. And why.”

“I agree. Which is why I think we should go in,” Dean said. “If we’re going to find answers, we need to retrace your steps. We have nothing else to go off of.”

We crossed the street and Sam led the way inside. A little bell above the door announced our arrival. I scanned the room, looking for anything familiar but coming up empty. I walked over to the line of pianos, lightly running my hand along the tops of each one I passed. I stopped at the fourth one in line. A blur of memories raced through my head, but nothing that would help solve my current memory loss problem.

This piano was very similar to the one I grew up playing. I remembered the hours spent on it, favorite songs learned and played enough times to become annoying to my family. The very same songs forgotten about when they became too easy and a new favorite came along. I placed my hands on the keys and played a few chords.

“Anything?” Dean asked. I just shook my head.

“Oh! You’re back!” Exclaimed a balding man who appeared out of the back room. He was probably in his early 50s and had a very friendly, cheerful demeanor. “You decided to buy this lovely instrument after all?”

“Uh, no. Unfortunately I have nowhere to keep a piano. No, I was just… passing by again and couldn’t resist,” I told him.

“Well, if circumstances ever change, I’d love to help you out!” He said.

I thanked him and placed my hands back on the keys, playing the opening notes to an old favorite song.

“Have you had a lot of business today?” I heard Sam ask.

“No, it’s been pretty slow today. But then, Mondays usually are,” the man answered easily.

“I figured it must be a slow day when you recognized Y/N so quickly,” Sam said, subtly fishing for information.

“Well she was the only one in the store at the time, but even if there had been 20 other people around, she plays so beautifully I could hardly have missed her.”

The conversation ended there. Or at least, I think it did. I lost myself in the song I was playing, and all other noise faded away. Once finished, I turned around to face the three men. The owner of the store was looking at me with the appreciation of a fellow musician. Sam looked impressed as he always did when he heard me play. Dean… I couldn’t quite read the look on his face. The closest word I could come up with to describe it is awe. But I knew that wasn’t right.

The store owner glanced at his watch and regretfully informed us it was closing time. He thanked us for coming in and I thanked him for letting me play. The three of us exited the store and started walking in the direction of the diner again.

We stopped in a couple more stores we passed that I might have gone into in an effort to destress. A small little used bookstore that was absolutely packed from wall to wall with books and an antique store, the kind that always reminded me of my history loving father and the countless stores he took me to growing up. Neither of these places sparked any memories either though, and as far as we could tell, I hadn’t stopped inside earlier.

“Well we have some explanation for where you were at least,” Sam said when we’d been seated at the diner.

“Yeah, but we still have no idea what happened to me. How are we supposed to get my memory back when we don’t even know where to start?”

“I don’t know yet. But we’ll figure it out. We always do,” Sam assured me. This wasn’t much of a comfort to me at the moment, and Dean seemed to realize that.

“We’re going to figure it out, Y/N. I promise. I’d never let anything happen to you. You’re our priority right now. Everything else gets dropped until we figure this out. You’re our new case. Have we ever not solved a case?” He asked.

I smiled, feeling more confident with my situation. He was right. There was nothing we couldn’t solve when we worked together.

“What’s our next step, then?” I asked.

“I have no idea,” Dean admitted.

“Our next step is going to the motel and getting some sleep,” Sam answered. “It’s getting late and we have no leads. Our best bet is to sleep on it and get a fresh start tomorrow. And who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky and your memories will be back in the morning.”

I didn’t really want to wait. I wanted to solve this now. But I knew Sam was right. We had nowhere to start, and being low on sleep wouldn’t help anybody, so I grudgingly agreed to this plan of action.

~~~~~

When I woke up the next morning, I kept my eyes closed and just laid there for a minute, working up the energy to actually get up. I heard the deep, even breathing of a sleeping person coming from the direction of the beds and the occasional shuffling of paper or clacking of a keyboard from the other side of the room.

I rolled over so I wasn’t facing the back of the couch and was greeted by a rare sight when I opened my eyes. The unmistakable sounds of research I’d heard were coming not from Sam as I’d assumed, but Dean, up before his brother, the notorious early riser.

“What time is it?” I asked as I sat up. He looked up at me.

“Oh, hey,” he greeted. “It’s… almost seven.”

“And Sam’s still sleeping?” I asked around a yawn. Dean still picked up on the disbelief in my voice.

“I know, right? Lazy ass. Of all days to sleep in.”

I chuckled at his annoyed teasing and went to the bathroom to start getting ready for the day. When I stepped back into the room, dressed and teeth brushed, I saw Sam up and rifling through his duffle.

“Hey,” he said. “I don’t suppose you remember anything?”

“Unfortunately, no,” I sighed.

“Ok. Well I guess we should go get some breakfast and discuss next steps.”

“No need,” Dean interjected. “I already came up with our next step while you two were catching up on your beauty sleep.”

“You did?” I asked, surprised.

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” He answered. Before he could continue, Sam interrupted.

“How long have you been up?”

“I don’t know. Couple hours.” He took a drink from a to go cup of coffee that I hadn’t even noticed he had.

Sam glanced at me, the look on his face one that he reserved for times he wanted to say ‘You two are so meant to be together’ but couldn’t say it out loud because Dean was in the room. He had said it to me on more than one occasion when Dean wasn’t around, which is how I know what the look translated to.

“Anyway,” Dean continued. He picked up a phone book that was laying open beside him. “I found this psychic in town that should be able to help us. I figured we’d stop by her place after breakfast.”

“A psychic? I don’t know, Dean.” The thought made me nervous. Most of the people who advertised themselves as psychics were phonies. And even if this one wasn’t – which I didn’t know how Dean could be sure of – what if she wasn’t able to help? What if she saw something I didn’t want her to see? I’m a pretty private person, and the thought of someone digging around in my head is incredibly unappealing.

“Hear me out,” he insisted. “I’ve done my research, ok? She’s the real deal.”

“How can you be sure?” Sam asked.

“Because. I’ve done my research,” Dean repeated. “Look,” he said, spinning the laptop to face us. It was open to a website for The Amazing Annabelle. “There are dozens of reviews on here, and every one of them says she was able to help. And look at this.”

He slowly scrolled down to the bottom of the page, showing off the dozens of symbols and sigils scattered throughout. A lot of them I recognized as protection from various supernatural beings. There were a lot that I didn’t recognize too. They clearly marked her as knowing about the world of supernatural creatures though. Unless she had just pulled together symbols she thought looked cool in order to give herself an air of authenticity.

“Alright, fine. But a few good reviews and a bunch of symbols used by hunters doesn’t exactly prove that she’s psychic,” Sam argued. I had to agree. I didn’t want to hurt Dean’s feelings since he’d clearly put some time into this and I knew he was just trying to help, but psychics made me nervous. There was no way I would agree to go unless we knew for sure she was legit.

“Yeah, I thought the same thing. Which is why I talked to Bobby,” Dean responded. So this was the reason he was so confident. Bobby was highly respected among the hunter community. If he gave his approval on this Amazing Annabelle, then we really couldn’t doubt her abilities. “He said he’s not super familiar with her, but he has heard of her. She’s good at what she does and someone who can be trusted.”

“Ok,” I agreed. “Breakfast and then a visit to the psychic. I suppose the worst that can happen is she isn’t able to help.”

~~~~~

The first thing I noticed about Annabelle was how… normal she was. With the exception of Missouri, all the other psychics I’d ever seen were dressed in over the top outfits, their places decked out with all sorts of nonsense that was supposedly necessary for them to do their job.

If I’d seen this girl on the street, I would never have guessed what her occupation was. She was about our age and short, standing a full head below my 5’ 6” frame. And she was very pretty. I noticed both Sam and Dean’s immediate appreciation of her beauty. She was wearing white leggings and a purple shirt, her night black hair was in a messy ponytail that suited her very well, and her golden brown skin was flawless.

“What can I do for you?” She asked when she opened the door. Dean cleared his throat before answering.

“I’m Dean. This is Sam and Y/N. We were hoping you could help us with something.”

“I gathered that much,” she smiled. She opened the door wider and stepped to the side. “Come in.”

We stepped inside and she led us to a room that had an armchair and a comfortable looking couch as well as a round table with four chairs. She sat in the armchair so the three of us settled ourselves on the couch, Sam and Dean on either end and me between them.

“So. What can I help you with?” She asked again.

“Do you have any experience with trying to recover memories?” I asked.

“Some, yes,” she said. “It really depends on how the memories were lost. Some are easy to find. Some take work, but can still be found with patience. Some, like in the instance of an injury to the brain, can’t be recovered.”

“We don’t actually know what happened. That’s part of what I need to remember. Our assumption is that magic was involved though,” I informed her.

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” she assured me. “If you’ll come with me?” She stood and moved to the table, gesturing for me to sit across from her. The boys came and stood close by to watch.

“I’ll need some information from you in order to know where to look,” she said. “Give me as much detail as you can about these memories. How long ago was it? How much time are you missing? Is it relating to any specific object or person? Anything you can give me will help.”

“It was yesterday,” Sam explained. “She has an hour and a half chunk of time just missing and we have no clue why.”

“What were you doing when you lost your memory and how did you realize you’d lost it?”

“I was just walking from our motel to a diner to get some food. I only realized what happened because I couldn’t actually remember why I left the room and I definitely didn’t think I was gone that long.”

“Ok,” she said, taking my hands in hers. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and instructed me to do the same. “I need you to concentrate as hard as you can on the moments from that walk that you can remember.”

Then she chanted a couple lines of Latin and suddenly I was back on the sidewalk outside the music store. I was walking in the direction of the diner once again when I hit a block. It was like an invisible barrier I couldn’t pass. I tried to go around it and when that didn’t work, turned around to go the other way. No matter what I tried, I was stuck where I was.

And then I was back at the table with Annabelle, Sam and Dean hovering over my shoulders.

“Well?” Dean asked.

“I still don’t remember anything,” I told Annabelle.

“I know. Your memories were definitely blocked using magic. It’s a stronger magic than I was expecting. It’s up to you to decide how important it is that you get them back. If you want to continue, I’m going to have to put you into a trance in order to access them.”

“Is that dangerous?” Dean asked.

“It can be. But only if you don’t have a good anchor,” she answered.

“What does that mean?” Sam asked.

“I’m going to have to send Y/N deep into her subconscious to find answers. Doing this requires an anchor, a tether to reality, someone to bring her back. Otherwise she could be stuck in her own subconscious with no way out."

“That’s not a problem. Both of them would be willing to do that,” I told her.

“I’m sure they would, but your anchor can’t be just anyone. It has to be someone with a very strong emotional connection. Normally I recommend close family members or significant others for this sort of process. I’m assuming they are neither?”

I hesitated. The answer, of course, was no. But I didn’t see how I couldn’t have a strong enough connection with them for this to work. Living the way we did – being with each other 24/7, trusting each other with our lives – created a very strong bond. Not to mention the way I felt about Dean. But maybe if it was one sided it wouldn’t work. And I wasn’t about to say that Dean was the safer bet because I felt our connection was stronger.

“Dean can do it,” Sam announced.

Dean and I both whipped our heads to look at him. I was sure the shock, irritation, and minor panic I could see on Dean’s face was mirrored on my own. I knew we were panicking for entirely different reasons though. For Dean it was worry that he wouldn’t be a strong enough connection for me. He didn’t want to risk me not coming back. For me it was worry that Sam was going to rat me out. And boy would we have words if he did.

“What?” He snapped at the death glares we were both now fixing on him. “You know it’s true. You’ve known Dean longer than you’ve known me. You two get along so well and know each other so well that if I didn’t know any better I’d think you’d known each other your entire lives. I promise your emotional connection is more than strong enough to handle this. And I swear if either one of you tries to deny how close you are right now, I will not hesitate to punch you.”

I looked at Dean at the same moment he looked at me. There was uncertainty in his eyes, but his jaw and shoulders were set in determination.

“I can leave you alone to discuss it if you’d like,” Annabelle offered.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Dean said. “It’s up to you of course – you’re the one taking the risk – but I’ll do my best to bring you back if you’re willing to trust me to do it. Otherwise we can try to find another way.”

“Of course I trust you. That’s not even a question,” I told him.

He watched me for a minute, weighing the sincerity of my words.

“Ok,” he said. “What do you need us to do?”

Annabelle stood up and moved to a shelf full of drawers on the edge of the room, opening different ones and pulling things out as she explained.

“As I already said, I’ll be putting Y/N into a deep trance. The magic is blocking your memories on a conscious level. Sending you into your subconscious will allow you to access them, but only while you’re in the trance. Once you’re awake, you’ll forget everything again.”

“Then how does this help us?” Sam asked.

Annabelle set everything she’d grabbed down on the table and then opened a cabinet underneath, grabbing a clear glass ball and setting it in the middle of the table.

“It helps, because you and I will be able to see everything she’s seeing while she’s in the trance.”

“What about me?” Dean asked.

“Since you’re the anchor, you’ll be inside her head too. You’ll be able to see and hear everything. Sam and I will only be able to see, so you’ll need to pay particular attention to things you hear as you’ll be the only one who knows those details.”

She began combining her ingredients, crushing leaves and mixing together powders and liquids.

“While she’s out, I need the two of you to be absolutely silent,” she told Sam and Dean. “You’ll both be fully aware of the noises happening around you. It could be tricky getting to the hidden memories, and distractions won’t help. Once we’ve found the information you’re looking for, we’ll need your anchor. At that point I need Dean – and only Dean – to start talking to her.”

She now had a liquidy brown paste in front of her. She dipped her finger into it and began drawing symbols on my forehead.

“It doesn’t matter what you say. Your voice, as well as your physical connection, will lead her back into consciousness.”

“Our physical connection?” I asked.

“Yes. You’ll need to be holding hands during this,” she said. Done with my forehead, she quickly drew an intricate swirling knot on the palm of each of my hands. She drew the same design on both of Dean’s palms and then worked on his forehead as well. I assumed the design was identical to mine. “Dean, if you’ll sit across from her, we can get started.”

She sat in one of the two empty chairs and gestured for Sam to sit in the last one.

“Alright. I need you to tell me everything you can remember from the time just before your memories disappeared. Once you’re under, you won’t be able to talk to me. The more details I have, the easier I can guide you to the missing time.”

“I already told you what I remember.”

“No. I need more. Tell me exactly what the last thing you remember is. Is it walking out the door? Did you get a ways before you forgot? What were you thinking? What were you feeling? What could you see, hear, smell? Give me everything you can remember.”

“Well… I don’t remember leaving the room. I kind of remember getting to the motel, but that’s a little hazy. I guess the clearest memory I have is waking up in the Impala about 15 minutes before we got to town.”

“Ok. Let’s start with that then. What details can you give me about that?” She prompted.

“I don’t know. Not much. We were in the car. On the interstate. Dean had Metallica playing. I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to say,” I told her. If this is what it took to get my memories back then I was screwed. Coming up with little details from hazy memories wasn’t exactly easy.

“That’s ok. Don’t worry. How about how you were feeling? Can you remember that?”

I’d just had a dream about Dean. So a big mix of emotions. Happy, sad, longing, irritation. Irritation. Yeah. I definitely remembered being annoyed when we got to the motel.

“I was annoyed. When we got to the motel. I remember being annoyed. I imagine it’s why I left to get the food. And Dean said I seemed stressed.”

“Great!” Annabelle praised. “What else? Do you know why you were annoyed?”

“Um…” How to answer that truthfully but without giving anything away. I looked between Sam and Dean and remembered how Sam had picked up on what I’d dreamt about and silently teased me about it. “Just an argument with Sam.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“What argument?” Dean interjected. “You guys didn’t even talk to each other.”

“No, but just because we’re not as close as you two are doesn’t mean we can’t communicate without having to say anything,” Sam said.

Dean looked shocked. No doubt he was wondering how often we’d had these silent conversations. Little did he know, they were always about him.

“Ok. Anything else you can give me?” Annabelle asked.

“I know I went into a music store and stopped to play one of the pianos. I don’t actually remember doing it though. Sorry, that’s all I’ve got.”

“That’s fine. I’ve got enough to work with. Remember, I need the two of you to stay quiet,” she told Sam and Dean. They both confirmed that they would. “Ok. Dean and Y/N, take each other’s hands and close your eyes.”

She waited for us to follow her instruction before continuing. A stream of Latin, different from the first time, fell from her lips and I felt myself sinking deeper and deeper into my subconscious. It felt a little like drifting off to sleep, so gradual that you’re somehow both aware and unaware of it at the same time.

~~~~~

Dean’s POV

As Annabelle’s chanting trailed off, a picture of my surroundings slowly began to take shape. I recognized it immediately. It was the inside of the Impala – from Y/N’s perspective. She was in the passenger side backseat, her usual place.

“Can you hear me Y/N?” Annabelle asked in a calm, soothing tone. “If you can hear me, I want you to get out of the car.”

I watched as my hand – No. Not mine. Y/N’s – reached for the handle and then she swung her legs out and stood up.

“Great. I’ll do my best to guide you to your forgotten memories, but this is mostly on you. If you seem stuck, I’ll help you figure out where to go, but otherwise I’ll stay quiet and let you figure things out for yourself. Now I need you to focus for me. I need you to think about the motel.”

The background around us flashed through a series of images. Different motels we’d stayed at over the years.

“The motel you’re staying at now,” Annabelle clarified. “The one you got to last night.”

The flashing images slowed and came to rest on one.

“That’s good, Y/N. Now I need you to focus on your emotions from last night. You got to the motel and were annoyed with Sam because you’d just had an argument.”

Y/N’s mind flashed back to the backseat of the Impala, Metallica’s Fade to Black playing through the speakers. She was looking at Sam in the rearview mirror, his eyebrows raised. I could tell by the view shifting back and forth that she was shaking her head. Sam looked quickly at me and then back to her, smiling. And then, memory over, we were back outside the motel.

That’s it? That was their argument? No wonder I’d missed it. What did it even mean? I caught myself just before I actually asked these questions out loud, remembering Annabelle’s instruction to stay silent.

“You wanted to take a walk, so you offered to go get food for everyone,” Annabelle continued. I watched this memory version of Y/N walk out the door. “You stopped at a music store along the way. Did you stop anywhere else?”

We all sat in silence as we watched Y/N walk for several blocks, never stopping. She looked around as she walked, frequently turning her head to look at different things. I remembered Annabelle telling me I would be the only one with access to the sounds in her memory and started paying attention. I heard the chirping of birds, the occasional car driving by, a bell ringing inside a store as someone opened the door. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Y/N walked past a group of teenagers and I listened in to their conversation. They were discussing the loss of their friends. The information I got from them was useless as far as Y/N was concerned, but I memorized their faces so we could question them once we’d helped Y/N and were ready to work the case we actually came here for.

She walked for another block and then stopped outside the music store. She stopped for a moment to look at it, and the world around me disappeared as she relived a different memory. I saw a child’s hands on the keys of a piano. I heard the music being played, a simple melody of Jingle Bells that the child was singing along to. I heard a grown man singing with her. The song ended and she looked up into the smiling face of the man I knew to be her father.

She crossed the street and walked into the store, heading straight for the pianos and trailing her fingers over them as she walked by, much as she had her second time through with me and Sam. She stopped at the same piano she did with us. Having seen the childhood memory, I now understood the draw to this particular instrument.

I listened as she played a complex set of chords that transitioned into a haunting melody. I was entranced, as I always was when she played. It was clear it was something she deeply enjoyed and missed. I was startled as Annabelle’s voice cut in over the music.

“What did you do next? What happened when you were done playing?” She asked. I suppose this part of the memory would be particularly boring to her and Sam, who couldn’t hear what I could. Not to mention it wasn’t exactly helping us find out what happened. We did need to keep moving, I supposed.

The memory jumped to the last few notes of what had to be a different song entirely. Then Y/N turned around and saw the store owner standing there, listening intently.

“You’re a wonderful pianist,” he told her.

“Oh, that? I was just messing around,” she mumbled at the compliment.

I listened closely to their conversation. While he was pretty low down on my suspect list, he was also technically the only person on that list as he was the only person we knew to have interacted with her. Nothing sparked my suspicions though.

He continued to praise her abilities, she continued to brush them aside, and he asked if she had any interest in buying the piano she’d been playing.

“I would be very happy to sell it to you,” he told her. “It’s not often I get to sell an instrument with the confidence it will be used and well loved.”

She politely turned down his offer and then told him she needed to be going, that her friends were expecting her to be back soon.

She left the store and continued her walk. Although I couldn’t actually feel her emotions, I could tell that playing had calmed her down significantly. There was just something about the way the world looked to her now.

She made it another half a block before she stopped. I could discern no reason for this. She simply stopped walking. After a few minutes it became apparent that something wasn’t right.

“This is where you got stuck the first time we tried finding your memories, isn’t it?” I heard Annabelle ask. “Whatever happened to block your memories, this is where it happened. The magic is still putting up a fight. I need you to push back. It can’t stop you from seeing. It’s all in your head that you can’t go any further. Just keep walking.”

We all waited for a couple minutes as she struggled with pushing past whatever spell was holding her in place.

“You can do it,” Annabelle encouraged. “You’re stronger than the magic is, I promise. Keep walking.”

Another minute passed and I knew she was winning because noises – which I hadn’t even realized had disappeared – started filtering through. It was like hearing something from underwater. Muffled, hard to make out, but definitely there. Then, all at once I could hear voices clearly and we were moving forward again.

I heard the sounds of a struggle coming from the alley in front of her. She quickly walked to it and then slowed to a stop just outside, listening. There was the unmistakable sound of chanting and underneath it, gurgling.

“Perfect,” she muttered under her breath. She reached into her boot to grab the silver knife she always had with her. “Wish I had my gun right about now.”

She peeked her head around and saw a teenage boy standing over another one. An endless stream of water was spewing out of the lips of the boy on the ground and he was choking on it. The chanting boy was facing her. The second she stepped into the alley she’d be spotted. But the drowning boy didn’t have time for her to find a better plan of attack.

She rushed in and the boy stopped his chanting when he saw her. He started a different chant, just a few words, and then he raised his arm, flinging her into the building beside her. The knife she’d been holding went flying out of her hand. I desperately wanted to run to help her, to make sure she was ok or to kill that boy. I didn’t know which desire was stronger, but I reminded myself that it didn’t matter. This was a memory. It was all in the past and I couldn’t change it now. I just had to watch and learn what I could. That’s how I would help her. Because now we had his face and we could track him down.

Hand still stretched out to hold her in place, he looked back to his original target, now desperately gasping for breath. He continued his chanting, and the poor boy on the ground only lasted a few more moments.

“Why are you doing this?” Y/N asked him. “What could he possibly have done to you to deserve that?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” the boy snapped at her. “No one does.”

He started marching in her direction.

“You should have left it alone,” he snarled. “If you’d just kept walking, everything would be fine. But now you’ve seen too much. And you have to go too.”

He started up his chanting again, directing it at Y/N this time. I could hear water falling from her mouth and hitting the ground. I could hear the sound of her gurgling and choking. I couldn’t bear it. How had she gotten out of this?

“Thomas!” A sharp female voice called from the other end of the alley.

The chanting stopped as the boy looked in the direction of the voice. Y/N immediately started coughing the water out of her lungs and gasping for breath. She looked at the person who had spoken. She was a woman in her late 40s or early 50s at a guess and she was fuming.

“What is wrong with you?” She asked as she smacked him over the head. “Don’t you think you’ve left enough bodies behind? Do you want to attract the attention of a hunter?”

“She saw me! What was I supposed to do?” He protested.

“You were supposed to have not killed another person to begin with! We talked about this! I’ve covered your messes your whole life, but I can’t hide murdered teenagers. Especially when you’re as sloppy about it as you’ve been and especially when you don’t even tell me about it!”

The boy hung his head in shame. But not guilt. Apparently he’d been raised to do a better job of hiding his crimes. Witches. I hated them.

“Well I have to kill her now. She’s seen too much,” Thomas argued.

“No. We’re already far too at risk of hunters coming to town. You can’t add another person to the body count. Especially so close to your father’s store. Do you want him to find out it's you killing people? About the fact magic is real, and you use it? No. We’ll erase her memory and send her on her way. She won’t be a problem.”

The witch grabbed an already made hex bag out of her purse and placed it in Y/N’s immobilized hand, forcing her fingers to close around it. I knew that she would have been fighting to get free, but since she was completely stuck there were no visible indications of this. I had been in that position more than once and knew the frustration of being unable to move.

The boy’s mother started up her own chanting and the memory we were in started fading to black. It continued with Y/N standing just outside the music store. She seemed confused at first, looking around as if trying to get her bearings. Then she turned and headed back in the direction of the motel, completely oblivious to what had just happened.

“Ok,” Annabelle said. I’d forgotten she was even there. “It’s time to bring her back. Go ahead and talk to her, Dean.”

At the mention of my name, I saw my face flash through her mind. I was sitting beside her on a couch and smiling. I didn’t remember this particular day. It could have been on any given day at any random motel.

I wasn’t really sure what to say, and just babbling whatever words came into my head seemed silly, but getting her back was more important than my discomfort.

“Y/N,” I said, pausing to think of my next words. The memory in her head changed. Now, rather than seeing from her perspective, I was in an outsider’s point of view. And I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. “What the hell is that?” I gasped out.

With a mix of excitement, shock, and confusion, I watched a guy who looked remarkably like me – although it couldn’t have been because I knew this had never happened before – lift Y/N in the air, spin her around a couple of times, and then set her back on her feet before leaning down to kiss her.

“I thought we were in her memories,” I said.

“You are,” Annabelle answered.

“No we’re not. We can’t be. That never happened.”

“Then it must be a memory of a dream. Focus, Dean,” Annabelle instructed. “Be her anchor. Bring her back.”

I tried to concentrate on my job, but all I could see was the image of us kissing playing over and over in my head.

“Can you please think of something else?” I practically begged her.

I was grateful when the memory – or whatever it was – flickered and changed into something else. Only this was no better. We were kissing again, only this time sitting on a very nice couch in a very nice room. It changed again. Sitting in the front seat of the Impala together, just the two of us. Kissing. Another change. I had Y/N pressed up against a wall. We were really kissing in this one.

It changed again and I breathed out a sigh of relief. She’d pulled up a random memory of her in one of her college classes, back before she quit school.

“Ok,” I breathed out and then cleared my throat. “Ok.” If I thought I didn’t know what to say before, I was really stuck now. What was I supposed to say to her after seeing all of that?

“Ok,” I said yet again. “You need to come back now. You have to find your way back. Sam and I are waiting for you.”

“It’s not going to work,” Annabelle said. “She’s trying too hard to keep her memories in control to focus on finding her way out of the trance. Y/N, don’t worry about what memories surface during this. Your only job is to come out of it. Listen to Dean and don’t worry about anything else. And Dean. Don’t worry about finding the right words. Say whatever comes naturally. That’s what she needs.”

Say what comes naturally. This would be a lot easier if I didn’t know Sam was listening to my every word. But Y/N was counting on me. I took a deep breath to prepare myself.

I said her name again. The memory of the classroom flickered to one of me in the driver’s seat of the Impala, singing along to Led Zeppelin. Y/N was in the back, singing with me and Sam was smiling in the passenger seat, refusing to join in.

“If I’m being honest with you, I don’t really know what I’m supposed to say right now. But you trusted me to get you out of this and I’ll be damned if I let you down. So I need you to do your part too. Find your way out of this. Come back to us.”

Memories flashed by as she searched for a way back into consciousness. I saw memories of real things, memories I shared. Us in the car, in motel rooms, on hunts. Her patching up a knife wound on my bicep, me holding her close and carrying her after her run in with that shapeshifter. There were more memories of things I didn’t recognize too. More dreams, I suppose. Us out on what could only be interpreted as a date. Us curled up together in bed, talking. Us dancing together in an empty parking lot, a slow song playing from Baby’s speakers. And more dreams of us kissing in various scenarios.

It would have been so easy to get lost in all of these memories, in seeing myself the way she saw me. And in wondering how she could apparently dream about me so much, apparently have feelings for me, without me ever knowing. But I made myself focus on being her anchor.

“Do you know how glad I am that you’re a part of my life? I sometimes wonder how I ever managed without you. And you know you can’t leave me and Sam on our own. We wouldn’t last without you. We’d probably kill each other.”

I watched as the countless swirling memories of us switched to ones of me and Sam. She remembered more than one instance that proved me wrong. She thought about all the times Sam and I had leaned on each other and kept the other going. She was essentially telling me that while she appreciated the sentiment, she knew we’d be fine without her.

“Alright, fine,” I said. “Maybe we’d get by fine on our own. That doesn’t mean either of us want to. You’re too important to us. So come back to us,” I repeated.

She seemed to be flipping through her memories, as if looking for the right one to bring her back.

“Come back to me.”

I became the focus again, a memory of me standing outside on a bright sunny day and laughing at something she’d said flitting into her mind. But she pushed it away to start looking again.

“Don’t worry about the memories, remember?” I told her. “Just focus on me. Listen to my voice. Try to feel my hands,” I encouraged her. Different memories floated by again, pulled up at random by my words, or maybe the tone of my voice. I didn’t know. They almost all circled around just the two of us though. More dreams of us kissing flashed by.

The shock I felt at these images was lessening and I was beginning to be more comfortable with them. So, following Annabelle’s advice, I let myself respond naturally. I let go of the tight leash I usually kept on my natural inclination to flirt. It wasn’t something I’d ever done with her, not wanting to scare her away. If only I’d known how she really felt.

“You know,” I drawled, wishing I could flash her a smile. “If you wanted to kiss me so badly, you only had to say something. We can definitely do something about that. But only if you come back to me.”

There was a rush of memories flipping by so quickly I couldn’t make anything out in any of them. Then everything went black and I became aware of my own body again. I tentatively opened my eyes and saw Y/N sitting across from me, Sam and Annabelle on either side of us.

I smiled a little. I wanted to know if she’d found her way out so suddenly out of embarrassment and a desire to escape or excitement and anticipation.

“Don’t forget, she won’t remember any of what just happened,” Annabelle warned me.

“I know,” I said. That wasn’t a problem. It was a lot easier to take a shot when you could see clearly. And I could finally see everything.

Chapter 3

Tags: @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

#familiar #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #reader insert #sam winchester x platonic!reader #dean winchester x platonic!reader #dean winchester x reader

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year

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Oh my god... Your writings are amazing! I'm a huge fan of ROR and sometimes there are just not enough content on the anime... Sad, really 😭... Can you write the ROR characters reacting to reader with abusive parents or family? Maybe she had cut all connections with them but one day her family try to drag her home forcefully. Just some angst because I need it once a day. Sorry if this is hard to write....

Oh, sweet angst~ how I adore thee! My angst is Don Bluth style, it will almost always have a happy ending. This is my first time writing something like this (even though I adore reading stuff like this), but I hope it turned out good!

-It had been years since you ran away from your home, your family, cutting all ties with them, but it also led to the best years of your life! You found a new family, forcibly adopted by several, literal gods, and some of the greatest warriors throughout history! It was odd, but they treated you with so much love and respect that you didn’t give a single care in the world that you were the child of these bunch of weirdos.

-They knew not to pry into your past, as you didn’t like talking about it, never giving anything way, but your denial to speak about it, shying away from it, was telling enough.

-They learned early on, after someone was talking nearby, using their arms to gesture, and threw their hands out suddenly, that you flinched, shying away even though that person was nowhere near you. They saw how hard you worked and how hard you were on yourself if you believed you failed to do something, becoming afraid of what they would do or say.

-After years of tender loving care, tons of reassuring, and so much love you felt like you were suffocating sometimes, you were happy.

-However, that all changed one day when a knock came to the door and your found yourself face to face with your parents, anger on their faces, their fury growing as soon as they saw that they finally found you!

-Shouting quickly gained the attention of others who were quick to rush to your aid, finding the front of your shirt in your father’s fists, holding you up, your hair in your mother’s grasp, forcing you to look at them, as they both screamed at you, telling you how worthless and ungrateful you were for running away.

-Poseidon and Hades were quick to charge, getting your parents away from you.

-Adam had you almost instantly in his arms, hugged close to his chest while Hercules, Lu Bu, Ares, and Thor put themselves between the two of you and your parents.

-Odin was glaring down at your parents while Zeus had a smile on his face, “My-my, causing such a fuss over a child that is not yours.” When your parents try to argue with him, he immediately makes them back down as his eyes become visible, a dark aura surrounding him as he silently dared them to try anything.

-Your mother demands that you return home as you are her child!

-Adam and Kojiro, who is now kneeling beside you as well, glare at her, Adam immediately refuting her claim, “This is my child. A father should protect his children, not make them fear him.”

-Many of the others agree, daring them to try and take you away from them, a few cracking their knuckles, ready for a fight.

-When they threaten to call the police, Loki is quick to laugh in their faces before a cruel grin spreads across his face, daring them to in a ‘fuck around and find out’ way.

-Once they are gone, throwing threats at your family as well as you the whole way out, everyone turns their attention on you.

-Brunnhilde and Eve are quick to check you over for any wounds, all while doting on you, while the men are in the next room over, plotting how to deal with your parents.

-Some want them to have an ‘accident’ while others are all for just hunting them down like the animals they are, to treat them how they treated you.

-You found yourself in the arms of Thor, wrapped up like a burrito, a short while later, as he was going to cuddle and dote on you while the others went out to run some ‘errands’, including Eve who went to get you ice cream!

-You felt so safe and warm with your mismatched family, despite their murderous tendencies to keep you safe. They loved you and that’s all that matter.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror adam #ror loki #ror odin #ror jack the ripper #ror buddha #ror heracles #ror poseidon #ror sasaki kojiro #ror eve

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jokeringcutio · 1 year

Note

Welcome back Mun! Can you please do flirting headcanons for Arthur and joker, like how they would approach a crush? Thanks!! 💜🙏🏻

Hello sweet anon! I'm working my way slowly back into the Joker mood, so this is a gift to me. I love it! Here goes:

Arthur:

He tries to catch your attention by simple and small gestures. A smile when you look his way. A sway with his head. A particular look: his eyes deliberately travelling up and down your frame, gaze intense.

He probably would walk over to you to clumsily start a conversation.

But someone else would probably get in the way and he’d lose his courage to go ahead.

When you do give him attention again, he will let you do most of the talking. But he’ll give silent signals that he likes you.

He’d probably wear a flower that squirts water on his vest to look smart – borrowed it from his Carnival costume.

He’d try cracking a joke.

Even if the joke is lost on you, he will try another. Because, you just smiled kindly at him at his first attempt, and that is all the encouragement he needs, really.

He’d be shy about inviting you to his home. But if the opportunity arose, he would.

He would hold the doors for you, allowing you entrance first. Whether at his home or at a little café you’d go to have a drink.

He’d pay for you, even though it might be the last coins he has on his person.

And no, he won’t have you pay, even if you have seen how little he has and even if you offer. It is just not done. THIS is part of the wooing process. Him being as much as a gentleman conform the gentleman rulebook he imagines must exist. Be polite, be kind, treat you like a princess/prince.

He’d make fun little balloon animals for you.

He’d probably make you a fun balloon ring too, when he proposes chivalrously on one knee.

You mention that drink you like? Next time you’re in his house he has it.

That food? Yep, it’s there. He keeps a list of all things you say you enjoy, and tries to give it all to you.

He is a hopeless romantic. And though many of his flirting attempts seem to go awry because of his clumsiness and his self-doubt/lack of self-esteem, you always seem to enjoy the efforts. So it never feels as if he’s failing. It feels as if he is winning instead.

Joker:

He is different that his counterpart. Much different. He walks with a confident swagger and isn’t afraid to lay his claim.

He tells the same crappy jokes. Only, he laughs openly after he told them. Unlike Arthur, who seems to be measuring your reaction and giggles only shyly. Joker just guffaws out loud. And if you have to laugh because he does, then it counts as a win, right?

Want to come to his place? I mean, there is no answer like no.

He redecorated. You spot things that are brand new.

You mention something you like, it’s there the next time you visit. But not in the inconspicuous way that shy Arthur would do it. These are obvious gestures. He even makes you aware of it with wide gestures of his arms, asking you if you like it.

He pays for your food, and when you’re out shopping and you see something you like, he pays for it too. Nothing is too expensive for his sweetheart.

You’re still his princess/prince though. But instead of being your prince Charming, he’s more like your royalty’s Bodyguard. He’s always hyper-alert, always making sure possible competition can’t reach you and threats can get nowhere near to you.

You want that teddy? He’ll get you one. Did he cheat to get it? Mweh, maybe. He got it though.

He will woo you by performing little one-man shows, just for you.

He’d do the striptease dance thing, but with much more swagger than Arthur ever would (though bless you, Arthur would give it his all as well and be smashing at it).

He’d use sweettalk on you, but if he’s impatient, he’d use his mouth and his hands to get you where he wants to have you (and I mean that in a sensual way).

You want that in your future? He’ll give you that. You decide which path the both of you’ll take. He’ll be along for the journey. Because after all, no matter how much you are his, he is also yours. Hope you liked it <3 I have added a masterlist to my sticky post. It still starts with the personal note about my health, but it should be there underneath it now.

#Arthur fleck headcanons #joker headcanons #arthur fleck flirting #the joker flirting #arthur fleck x reader #the joker x reader #joker 2019 drabble #joker 2019 prompt #hello world #I am back

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starlightsearches · 1 year

Note

Aaaaand maybe track 11, with Eddie? I’d choose a love song for him, but I really am curious as to what you’d do with this song…..eheh….ya know it, fave song is Dead Man’s Party by Oingo Boingo 😅❤️❤️❤️

All Dressed Up with Nowhere to Go

Track 11 - Hungry Heart by Bruce Springsteen: Pick a character and tell me your favorite song, and I'll write a short blurb or headcanons based on it.

Kas! Eddie x GN! Reader

thank you, irma! i'd never listened to dead man's party before, but it fucking SLAPS. i hope you like what i made for you 🥰

📼✨ mixtape milestone ✨📼 requests open through march 1st

Warnings: drinking, puking, ANGST, talk of death and mourning, making out, blood sucking for the sluts uwu, language, a very open ending

Your hand is getting cold.

You let your eyes wander down briefly, stopping when you spy the cause. There's punch spilling over the edge of your cup, trickling down your hand and leaving a sticky red stain behind.

Your mind's been on the run all night—or at least after the last four drinks—always looking for something simple to focus on but never staying long.

The sweaty condensation dripping down the windows. The thumping base traveling from the dance floor. And now the way the punch shines like blood against your skin in the spooky lights Steve spent the afternoon hanging.

"Hey, hey, hey."

A big hand covers your own, reaching for the cup, and you pull it back on instinct, trying to place the pretty brown eyes.

Steve. Of course. Speak of the devil.

He looks handsome, and very Harrison Ford-esque in the vest you found together at the costume shop. The costume fits him better than the Leia dress does you. In all the billowing white fabric, you look like a ghost every time you catch your own reflection.

So maybe that fits you fine. You hardly feel like you're here at all.

There's a crease between Steve's brows, and he reaches for the cup in your other hand. You pull back on instinct, sloshing punch in the other direction. It lands with a loud splat on the floor.

"I think you've had enough," he says softly.

Steve purses his lips, and you know he's holding back a whole slew of unhelpful phrases. You've heard them all—I know it's hard, but you have to try and enjoy yourself. Eddie wouldn't want you to be sad. He wouldn't want you to spend his favorite holiday crying into a pillow or blacked out on my couch. He'd want you to move on.

But Eddie's been dead for six months. So who gives a fuck what he would want.

You pull the cup to your lips, drink and drink and drink, letting the sweet sting burn any chance of tears from your eyes.

Steve only put this party together for your benefit. It was a nice gesture—going through the list of couple's costumes you and Eddie made together before, mashing the playlist of songs Eddie loved with ones people would actually want to dance to.

But you wish he hadn't. You wish he had let you wallow.

The empty cup crushes against Steve's waiting hand. You sway a little closer so he can hear you over the music.

"I'm gonna go dance."

There's a splash of guitar from the speakers, and you know it's one of your songs from the confused looks of everybody on the dance floor. Whatever. They get over it, swept up in the beat.

You let it take you, too, swinging around wildly, flailing with no concern how you look or who's watching. There was nobody around you wanted to impress anymore.

Eddie wouldn't care what you looked like anyway. He was a shit dancer.

Fuck.

The room is spinning. You're trying to keep with the beat, but there's the same lyrics, echoing over and over and over in your head.

dead man dead man dead man deadmandeadmandeadman. dead.

You're going to fucking puke.

Fighting through the crowd is like wading through a pool of bricks, which would still fucking suck if you were sober, and you are not. Catching on thrown back hands and angel wings, you stumble into the bathroom, just bending over in time to avoid vomiting a red stain down the front of your dress.

Your head has it's own heartbeat, pounding behind your eyes. You dip your cheek down to meet the cool porcelain.

There's no avoiding it. Hot tears spill over your face, plopping like raindrops into the basin. Fucking rock bottom, crying over your dead boyfriend on filthy toilet seat.

There's the sound of the door shutting and latching, just audible over your sobs. You lift your head, so dizzy and sad and hopeless it makes you angry.

"God," you're yelling, loud enough for it to echo off the tiles, "can't you see there's somebody fucking—"

He looks just like you remember him. And not in a good way.

The room already smells like sulfur, the way everything did down there—like sulfur and mold and fucking death. Eddie brought it with him. He brought it all. The holes in his hellfire shirt, scars peaking out of his collar, the mud and shit and blood staining his clothes.

He's got dark blue bags under his eyes, like bruises, cheeks sallow. Looking almost as tired as you feel. But he smiles, just the way he used to.

"Wow, sweetheart," —Eddie's voice is deep and gravelly as he kicks a boot up against the door, nodding back in the direction of the party— "this all for me?"

"Eddie."

That comes out as a sob, too.

He crosses the room in a few strides, a big hand at soft at your back, petting strands of hair off your sweaty forehead.

"Hey princess," he tries to smile, "long time no see."

Jesus. Your head's still spinning. You might puke again. It doesn't help that Eddie keeps going in and out of focus, like maybe you're dreaming this all up, the way his skin feels and the smell of him and the cute little curls in front of his ears.

"You were dead."

He huffs at you. "I think, technically, sweetheart, I still am."

He pulls one of your hands toward his chest, and there's nothing beneath it. No heartbeat. Just Eddie.

He doesn't expect it, the way you launch yourself at him, pulling him to floor. Eddie laughs, wraps his arms around you, his shaking lungs and the feel of his hands full of disbelief.

"I missed you."

You can tell he's missed you, too. He nods into your neck, hot breath on your skin.

"Why didn't you come back before?"

"Halloween seemed like a good time," he whispers, looking you in the eye, "wouldn't want to scare the neighbors."

His lips press tighter together. There's something he's not telling you. If you weren't so fucking high, you'd try to figure it out.

But you are fucking high—high out of your mind—and there's only one thing you want to do right now.

Eddie doesn't taste like death. He tastes like he used to, in the back of his van, in his bed or on the couch, his hands on you and his wandering lips, just bodies and kisses and nothing in between.

"Fuck, baby," he grunts, nipping at your ear, "you gotta be careful with me."

You shake your head. There's enough blood in him for the skin at his neck to turn a shade darker when you bite at it.

Eddie's hips shift against yours. He's breathing harder, although you're not sure where it goes, or what his lungs do with it once it's there.

"Can I- can I taste you, baby?"

"Mhmm."

It feels so good to be caught up in his arms again, you don't even notice the sting when his lips seal around your neck, the way his throat pulses with swallow after swallow. The groan he lets out is pained when he finally rips himself off of you.

Eddie cups your cheeks in both hands, thumbs petting at the left-over tears.

"Awww, baby. I don't think I should have done that."

You hardly hear him. Everything is fuzzy. You let your eyes fall closed, and the soft brush at your hairline could be his lips, or something you made up.

And then he's gone.

Steve's beside you when you lift your head again.

"Jesus, what the fuck happened to you? Robin found you on the floor and thought you were dead."

He's wiping at your neck with a cloth, or paper towel or something, and it hurts.

What did happen to you?

"I- I think I fell."

Steve hums, disapproving, cleaning the dripping blood from your neck, smoothing a bandage over the skin.

When you pull it off the next morning, all that's left of Eddie—or your vision of him—are two perfect little puncture wounds, and a few bruises in the shape of teeth.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson thots #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #my writing #requests #starlightsearches mixtape milestone 📼

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sansxfuckyou · 9 months

Text

Hold and Release

Summary: Kenny's old enough to move out and live on his own in complete freedom, the only problem is that not only does he not have enough money to rent anything, Karen is still stuck at home- at least he can talk too Kyle.

Warnings: implied child abuse, blood, panic, ambulances, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: day threes prompts was confinement/freedom, I chose freedom, although it ended up rather depressing at the end, again. So enjoy this story with bonus Karen and Ike being best friends cause I can do that, it only gets angsty after the hair dyeing segment if you want to tap out. I'm not American so I was guessing the cost of how large the price would be. anyways! if ya'll enjoyed maybe consider dropping a reblog or checking out the Ao3 port

Kenny has just turned eighteen and he's fucking free.

But he doesn't really know what to do with that freedom, especially with Karen still stuck at home. Still stuck in their parents grasp, still there to take the shit end of the stick, still being held onto like she's caught in a bear trap.

And Kenny is free to go and she's encouraging him to leave because they both know it's bad. He's free and she isn't and he doesn't know what he's supposed to do to get her out of there when he can't even afford an apartment.

He's still stuck in the same pit as much as she is, the only difference is that he could leave and they can't do anything about it now. He sleeps in the same bed, sits at the same couch, eats the same food- he can just go. Not many places but he can spend the night at a hotel if he has enough money. He doesn't, but he does have enough merit to stay the night at his partners place and let Karen tag along so she can hang out with Ike.

-/-/-/-

"Thanks for letting us stay the night," Kenny said as his partner drew him into a hug.

"Of course Kenny," Kyle said, "The Broflovski household is always open to the McCormicks."

Kenny gave a smile, "Love you."

"Love you too, now! What does everyone want for dinner?" Kyle asked, turning to face Ike and Karen.

"Kraft Dinner," Came Ikes answer, obsidian eyes being used to bait Kyle into giving in.

"Kraft Dinner works for me," Karen answered with.

"Alrighty then," Kyle said, "Me and Kenny are gonna make dinner the then we'll be able to set up a show to watch."

"Wanna play some video games?" Ike asked, attention already fixed on Karen, "I got a really cool one on my computer a while ago."

"Totally!" Karen answered with before following Ike up the stairs.

Kenny followed Kyle into the kitchen patiently, getting a pot while Kyle grabbed two boxes of macaroni. He filled the aforementioned pot with water before putting it on the burner and leaning against the counter.

"You think this is what parenthood is like?" Kyle asked, question coming from nowhere.

"What?" Was all that Kenny could muster in response.

"This, making food while kids go play somewhere else?" Kyle asked once more, gesturing about as he spoke.

"I'm just trying to get real freedom for me and Karen man, I can barely afford food for the both of us to eat and there's still broken glass on the floor, and the roof still leaks- my life is hell," Kenny explained, "I don't even want to think about parenthood when I can't even live on my own."

"Understandable," Kyle said, "You and Karen can live in the attic if you'd like."

"I would but she's not old enough to be on her own, our parents could cause mondo trouble if she did," Kenny answered with, "I don't want that for her."

"So you're gonna keep suffering, for her?" Kyle asked.

Kenny nodded.

Kyle instantly wrapped his arms around him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He squeezed him a bit, "You're so sweet, and kind, you're too good for me."

"Incorrect, you're too good for me," Kenny countered with as he pressed a kiss to Kyles cheek in response.

Kyle gave a contented hum before letting go and reaching for the boxes of Kraft Dinner. He tore them open before speaking, "So, attic, even if Karen can't stay you're welcome whenever."

"I doubt your parents would be pleased," Kenny answered with as he watched Kyle cook the pasta, the water burbling loudly.

He shrugged, "I don't really care so long as you're outta that house."

"Thanks, for everything," Kenny said, leaning over and pressing his forehead against Kyles.

"Love you too," Kyle said as he pulled down a strainer, "Go get Karen and Ike, foods basically ready."

"Be back in a minute," Kenny said, "I love you."

-/-/-/-

"You know what's really fun?" Kyle asked as he watched Kenny haul boxes across the attic, trying to clear it out enough for a futon to fit.

"What?" Kenny asked as he sat down on a box labeled as 'junk' and leaned forward a bit.

Kyle held up a small bottle of hair dye, "The color green- neon green."

"Kyle I am not dying my hair neon green," Kenny said, "You could."

"How about sky blue then? Or a couple red streaks?" Kyle asked, holding up the aforementioned colors as he spoke.

"How you got so much hair dye is the real question," Kenny said with a bit of a smile as he stood up, "I guess we could put in some red."

Kyle simply grinned as he reached further into the box and pulled out some plastic gloves that looked like they were stained with blood. He pulled out a comb next, "Meet in the bathroom, leave your parka somewhere it won't get ruined," He was already making his way down the ladder as he was spoke.

Kenny shoved aside a couple more boxes before shedding his parka in the small pile of stuff he had started on bringing over. He gently folded the fabric so it wouldn't crease too much in places the fabric was already wearing out, he did not have buying a new parka in his budget. Especially considering he'd been patching and restitching this one since he was in grade ten, he didn't grow as tall as he wanted if he was being honest.

He made his way down the ladder quick after Kyle to find him in the bathroom, one hand holding red jar, the other holding a towel stained in many colors. Kenny sat down on the edge of the bathtub and let Kyle wrap the towel around his neck and shoulders.

"So," Kyle began, "Where do you want it?"

Kenny lifted the hair at the back of his head, tugging on the low ponytail he wore frequently, "Underneath," He pulled out the hair tie and let his hair waterfall around his shoulders.

"Cool, I can do that," Kyle said as he reached for some clips and started pulling the upper layer to the top of Kennys head. He repeated the motions until he had enough to tie into a quick topknot, "Is this a good amount?"

Kenny nodded, "Perfect."

"Alright," Kyle said, popping open the bottle of red and taking a considerable amount in hand.

"This isn't gonna sting, is it?" Kenny asked, tapping cut nails on the enamel.

Kyle shook his head, "Of course not."

He took a section of Kennys hair and worked in the dye. It was lukewarm but still made Kenny shiver as Kyle pressed at his scalp, working it into the roots. He made use of the comb to pull it down to the tips of his hair, slowly doing the same to another section until he had finished the first part. He swiveled around Kenny a couple times, using his 'clean' hand to tilt his boyfriends head to make sure it didn't go to far up.

"Done?" Kenny asked, "It's sort of ticklish."

"Wait until you try bleaching your hair, it gets really stingy," Kyle said as he crouched down and swung open the sink. He pulled out two more bottles, "Now, we have two options."

"Which are?" Kenny asked as Kyle washed off the comb of the deep red hue.

"Well, we could do the tips in a brighter red, or we could also do them dark red," Kyle said, holding up both bottles. He studied Kennys expression, "I'm guessing bright?"

"Yeah, bright," Kenny answered with as he stiffened his posture.

"You're not just saying that?" Kyle asked.

Kenny shook his head, "You know me perfectly."

"Maybe I do," Kenny said, tugging off his gloves and grabbing fresh ones that he instantly doused in crimson.

He stepped around to be resting behind Kenny, using the comb to brush down the dyed bits a little more before slathering one some bright red. He worked in the color with a bit more ease, Kenny tapping his heel against the tub as he Kyle went along. His nerves were on fire whenever Kyle leaned close enough that his breath ghosted on the back of Kennys neck. He still held perfectly still despite that, the tapping of his foot paused whenever it happened.

"Now we let it sit!" Kyle said, clapping his hands.

"How long?" Kenny asked as he stood up and brushed down his pants.

"I usually go for an hour, but it only has to stay for thirty minutes," Kyle explained as he stepped out of the tub and tossed his gloves into the sink.

"Thirty whole minutes?" Kenny asked, almost incredulously.

"Yep! Thirty whole minutes," Kyle said before leading Kenny back out, "We could keep cleaning or we could bake."

"Let's bake," Kenny said, following Kyle over to the kitchen.

"Cookies?" Kyle asked, reaching for a tray to bake on and turning the oven to 350 degrees.

"Cookies," Kenny answered with, grabbing the bucket of flour and sugar, both kinds.

"Chocolate chip?" Kyle asked, reaching for the eggs and placing the carton down on the counter.

Kenny grabbed the bag of chocolate chips, "Obviously, anything else?"

"Butter, baking soda, and some salt," Kenny said, grabbing the baking soda and salt as he spoke.

"On it," Kenny said, popping open the fridge and pulling out the butter, "Softened?"

"Softened," Kyle echoed back, reaching for the measuring items.

"Softening," Kenny said as he placed the cube in and bowl and into the microwave.

Kyle slid over the flour and grabbed a large bowl, "Measure some out for me."

Kenny nodded as he dumped two and a quarter cups of flour into the bowl, followed by salt and baking soda. He slid it over to Kyle who handed him the egg carton, "Could you stir it?"

"Of course angel," Kyle said sweetly, relishing how red Kennys face was at the pet name. He whisked together the items easily, "Beat the eggs?"

"Yep," Came Kennys answer as he beat them into a smooth blend of yolk and whites.

Kyle pushed aside the two bowls as the microwave beeped, he popped it open and pulled down the butter. He dumped it onto a bowl alongside the required sugar before mixing, "Think we actually need an electric mixer?"

"Naw, it'll be fine," Kenny said, "I'm sure of it," He poured the egg into the bowl with the flour before Kyle added into the bowl.

"Just beat until it's dough," Kyle instructed as he laid down a sheet of parchment paper on the tray.

Kenny nodded, "Wait," He dropped his spoon, "Chocolate chips."

Kyle grabbed the bag, "Measurement."

"Measure that shit with your fucking heart Kyle," Kenny said, watching with intent as the chocolate chips hit the bowl, "More."

Kyle shook the bag, "I think we just ran out."

"It'll have to do," Kenny said before folding the chips into the dough until they were spread enough. He tore off a chunk and took a bite, "It's pretty fucking tasty."

"Dude, I love you, but we're baking," Kyle said, balling up some dough and dropping it onto the tray.

Kenny followed suite, "I like eating raw cookie dough sometimes," He rearranged a few balls of dough.

"We all do, but I also like eating fresh cookies sometimes," Kyle said as he pulled open the stove.

Kenny rolled his eyes as he rolled up the final few and handing the tray to Kyle. He closed the stove door after Kyle stepped back, "Ten minutes?"

"Ten minutes," Kyle echoed back. He swiveled around to check Kennys hair, "I think we're done with your hair."

"Let's go rinse it out then," Kenny said, tugging Kyle along to the bathroom.

"You look good with a topknot," Kyle said, "Especially with the colors."

Kenny gave a hum as Kyle flicked on the tub faucet, "Maybe I won't get it cut."

"Would be a waste of dye anyways," Kyle chided as he tugged the towel from Kennys neck and held up the dyed bit, "Just put your head right beside the faucet, I'll help."

Kenny raised a brow.

"Dude, trust me."

The McCormick reluctantly leaned over the edge of the tub, knees resting on a folded towel and head beside the water flow. Kyle stood beside him and ran bits of the dyed chunk through the warm water, Kenny watched as red flooded the porcelain. It was visceral, almost like blood but thinner, he really hated the fact that he could make that comparison.

"It looks pretty fuckin' red, is there any left in hair?" Kenny asked, tapping his pointer fingers on the edge of the tub.

"Yep! Don't worry, red bleeds the most," Kyle explained as he scruffed up Kennys hair, wringing out some water and rubbing off the stray dye on his scalp.

Kenny gave a hum of laughter, "Irony."

Kyle pulled on Kennys shoulders a little bit and he sat up, "It's looking pretty good, need to rinse a bit more. Kenny, rinse it while I search for the hair dryer."

"Got it boss," Kenny said, giving a mock salute before working more extra dye out of his hair.

"You might have to just towel dry it," Kyle said as he flung open the doors and rooted around for a hair dryer.

"My head is under a faucet I can barely hear you!" Kenny spat back before standing up and turning off the water, "What'd you say?"

Kyle dropped back down and plugged in the hair dryer, "Doesn't matter, now, turn around."

Kenny did as told like a dog.

He held as still as he could even when the dryer started to whir loudly, he jumped a bit when the hot air hit his neck. He did enjoy the sensation of blunt nails gently hitting his skin whenever Kyle tugged up a section to dry. He tapped his foot absently on the ground as Kyle dried his hair, it was impossibly calming. He felt like he was turning to mush just a bit with how nice it felt.

The rest of his hair came down atop it and the comb was pulled through after being briefly rinsed and dried. He swung around to look at himself in the mirror, "Damn, I look hot as fuck."

"You always look hot as fuck," Kyle said tacked on helpfully as he ran his hands through Kennys hair from the bottom up, shaking it a bit.

"I know, and you always look adorable as fuck, and perfect as fuck, and just down right amazing," Kenny said, hitting Kyle with a smattering of kisses between each compliment. It drew a bout of giggles from the redhead.

"Stop," Kyle whined, smiling all the while, drawing out the 'o' as he spoke.

-/-/-/-

"I move my pawn to capture your rook," Kyle said as swiped Stans rook off the board.

"Shit," Stan muttered as he hesitantly moved his bishop.

Kyle captured it with his queen, "Checkmate."

"You asshole," Stan said, swiping the chess pieces off the board and packing them up.

A loud banging on the front door, "Kyle!" more loud banging.

"Be back in a second," Kyle said as he stood up. He brushed down his pants before making his way to the front door.

He swung it open and he was absolutely paralyzed at the sight laid out before him.

There stood Kenny, heaving his breaths with a clear cut across his face and his hair mussed. There was a fresh tear on his parka, right on the shoulder, presumably from taking a hit for someone else. Karen lay in his arms, a horrible wound on her face, nose seemingly broken and bloody. She was passed out and fresh bruises lay on her forearms, guard reflex only saving her face for so many hits.

"Kyle, please help her," Kenny pleaded as he tried to take another step forward, his foot aching from kicking the door.

"Stan! Call an ambulance!" Kyle shouted back before Stan rushed over.

"What is it man?" Stan asked, he stopped short a couple steps from the door frame, "I'll call the ambulance, get her on her stomach so she won't choke."

Kenny nodded before taking staggering steps further in, Kyle lending an arm to lean on. He tried to gently placed her down on her front, blood dripped from her nose and Kenny didn't know what to do. Firstly he collapsed, buckling to the carpeted ground and trying not to freak out despite everything happening around him.

His little sister has a broken nose. His mom is dealing with his drunk dad. He's already spiraling out of control despite the hand on his shoulder. Stan is calling an ambulance. He won't be let in because he's too panicked. His sister is hurt, his sister is terribly hurt and he can't do anything about it except file a claim and hope it gets noticed.

"Kyle what do I do?" Kenny got out weakly, words coming out choked. His face was hot and the fact that he was tightening the hood of his parka didn't help.

Kyle reached to tug off the hood, Kenny tightened it more. He just rubbed circles on the McCormicks back, "Breath, it's gonna be alright."

"She's never had anything broken Kyle. I'm supposed to be the one who gets broken. I'm supposed to be the one who gets hurt. I always bounce back, this isn't right," Kenny choked out, drawing his knees to his chest and resting his head between them, "It's not right."

"It really fucking isn't," Kyle said, unsure of what else to say, "She's gonna be okay, the doctors have it covered."

"Kyle I can't pay for a broken nose, that's like, four thousand dollars. I literally do not have the fucking money," Kenny sobbed out as he threw back his head. Everything in his body felt tense and too hot and too cold, he just wanted to pass out or know that everything is going to be fine. That's his sister in trouble, that's his sister passed out on the couch. He doesn't know what he'd do if she was gone, "I'd rather starve than let her die because of a broken nose, Kyle she's not gonna make it because I'm too fucking poor."

"How much do you have?" Kyle asked gently.

"Not enough," Kenny said, grabbing his wallet and pulling out a small wad of bills and a credit card. He let Kyle count out the bills, watching as all of his money was spread out before him.

"That's just over two thousand dollars," Kyle said under his breath, "I can cover the rest of it."

"It's fine, I have a bunch of shit I can sell," Kenny said, raising a hand to wipe off his face.

"Well what happens when I want to help try and pay for my sister in laws medical bills?" Kyle asked.

"Really?" Kenny asked quietly, turning to face Kyle.

"Yeah. Really. I promise I'll foot as much of it as I can manage," Kyle said, he gently placed a hand on top of Kennys, "I love you, and I'm gonna help you through anything."

"Hey guys," Stan interrupted with stiffly as he leaned back and forth on his feet, shifting his weight left and right, "They said the ambulance will be here in ten, and to put ice on it."

"Okay," Kenny said quietly.

"I'll get the ice," Stan said before turning to the kitchen.

"I set up the lights in the attic if you want to come see," Kyle offered, trying to pull the subject away from Karen.

Kenny nodded a bit before standing up, "Sure, let's go check it out," He released a heavy sigh.

"She'll be fine," Kyle said as he stood up. He held onto Kennys hand, "I promise."

"Alright, I don't think they'll me on the ambulance," Kenny said, "Make sure Stan goes with her, she trusts him."

"Of course angel," Kyle said, placing a small kiss to Kennys cheek.

"You're too good for me," Kenny said as he watched Kyle pull down the attic ladder.

Kyle gives a soft smile, "I'm just doing what I'm supposed to do for the people I love."

(Kenny woke up next to Kyle and he tries his very hardest not to start crying. He doesn't deserve someone so perfect)

#K2WEEK2023 #south park #south park k2 #sp k2 #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #stan marsh #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #tw implied abuse #tw implied violence

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luveline · 1 year

Note

Hey Jade! Just a request for the Steve Zombie AU (if you’d like!!! ♥️). What about a hurt/comfort before they reach the college where reader is having a really rough time and has a bit of a breakdown. Protective Stevie wanting to make things better but also being practical to like sort it out because they’re still on the road having to survive. Super “it’ll be okay. I’m gonna fix it!” vibes (because I just DIED when I read that line 🥹)

thank you for your request!! steve zombie!au ♥︎ fem!reader 1k

You’ve been inside of the apocalypse for so long that you can’t remember how long you’ve been inside of it. You’ve lost your family and friends, your life, your choices. You miss TV and movie theatres and frozen pizza, but more than anything, you miss how it felt to wake up rested.

You miss Saturday mornings with nowhere to go. How you’d wake and spread out over your warm sheets, look up into the dimpled ceiling of your bedroom and take a moment to follow dust motes dancing between beams of insistent, golden sunlight.

There’s no sunlight now. It’s raining hard, and you and Steve have nowhere to go. You’ve built the best tent that you’re able to build during such a sudden downpour, two sharp sticks and a tarp buckling under the weight. Every now and then Steve will reach up and slowly release the water that’s been up there, pushing his palm into the bump until it runs down the side of the tarp and away from you and your things.

You feel hopeless.

Steve must see the look on your face. He’s getting very good at knowing how you feel. Which is great when you’re feeling great — you barely have to hint for a kiss anymore when you want one — and unfortunate when you’re feeling down. He knows you’re prone to despair, and his knowing makes it worse. He’s in the exact same boat as you watching you come apart.

“Have my hand,” he says.

You try to focus on what he’s said. Not take my hand, but have my hand. He offers his right hand to you, his knuckles scratched from a stubborn wooden fence, and smooths his fingertips over your palm with a deliberate gentleness. He squeezes your fingers as they slot between his, and rubs the back of your hand with his thumb.

Things with Steve are good. You love him, though you won’t tell him that, and he has a deep affection for you at the very least. You don’t fuck, which had surprised you but isn’t disappointing — you’re almost always sweaty and you aren’t sure either of you are ready for that. But not fucking gives you a little more confidence in your relationship. He can’t be using you for sex if you don’t have sex. And besides, Steve isn’t the type to do that unless you wanted it too.

He doesn’t lie. You like that about him. You trust him to be honest in his intentions.

He doesn’t lie, and he doesn’t sugarcoat.

“I don’t know how long this will last,” he says. “The rain. We have to be careful. We need to stay dry, or it’s probably gonna kill us.”

“It’s just rain,” you say softly.

“It’s about staying warm.” He rubs the back of your hand.

"How do you know?"

"I don't. I'm guessing. I'm always guessing."

"What?"

Steve shuffles toward you. Tarp or not, the ground feels damp and cold beneath you, and he must feel it too as he draws closer. He wraps one of your arms up in his and tugs it under his armpit, an uncommon shape to hug you in but by no means weird. Your right shoulder pressed to his, his face inclined in the dimness so you can see his eyes clearly.

"I don't know what I'm doing, honey," he says, 'honey' said sweet as the real thing and just as smooth. He's trying to pull you back from the precipice of panic. "But that doesn't mean we won't be okay." He gestures to the rain. "I'll make it okay."

"How can you?" you ask.

His reassurance makes you cry. Tears well and fall, a cruel and burning lump takes station in your throat.

"We don't have enough to stay here and wait," you say, looking at his chest rather than his face.

"We'll make it enough. We have water, we have food for another four days. All we have to do is stay warm…" He grins at you. There's a hopefulness to his smile. "I can keep you warm."

Your laugh splutters through tears. His eyebrows wriggle over his forehead. When the laughing turns into sobbing he doesn't baulk, only pulls your face into his shoulder and crooks his arm behind your head. You cry with an ardency made up of raw-tipped fear.

"I don't wanna die here," you say.

Steve shushes you, hand rubbing a too-quick motion over your back. He holds you together for the hundredth time. "You're not dying here."

You're grateful he doesn't say, "Sweetheart, it's only rain." Because it isn't only rain that's hurting you tonight. It's everything. Everything but Steve.

"You think I'd let that happen? We're doing what we need to do. We stay dry, we wait for the rain to pass, and we keep going." He kisses the tip of your ear. You almost don't feel it. "I will drag you out of this damn forest with me. I'll carry you if I have to."

"You can't carry me, Harrington," you mumble.

"You're lucky it's raining. I can't carry you," he says, disbelieving. "Are you kidding?"

He starts to pull you up toward his chest. Steve is surprisingly strong considering he isn't too bulky, and your shoulders and back feel as if they're decompressing, shifting. You let your weight fall into him. He stops you from sliding down the length of his chest. You should know by now, Steve will always hold you up.

The rain abates sometime in the early hours. You and Steve roll up the tarp, drag it dripping wet through mud and leaf mulch to the highway, and you keep walking until you find a place to rest. You try to say sorry for breaking down. Steve won't hear it, but he does accept the apology kiss you offer, and he gives your cheek an aching squeeze.

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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tokiidokiicasket · 2 years

Note

Hello. You know what time it is? It's Pomefiore kibbie time. But I'll spice it up for you. Reader wants to dress the kitties up in something for a promotional photoshoot, to charm people into coming over and donating! What kind of clothes would the Pomefiore kitties want to wear? I'll leave that up to you~

⚰️ : Sorry I went nonexistent, school b so wacc and I'm speedrunning this because aha, I'm participating in EBG and Vil is one of my biases rkicndndnfnch

-The "he's an icon and he is the moment" kibbie.

-While Vil rarely comes to greet you at the door because he's prepping himself up for the day, he does try to come by when he can with his beauty!

-SOFT! RADIANT!! M A J E S T I C!!! FUR!!!! Literally the moment you touch it when it's salon hour, you feel at bliss because of how soft Vil's fur is. However, even though Vil is cooperative, he will give a few meows and gestures to be careful when bathing and brushing his floof of silk.

-Because he's the icon and the moment, put Vil in any type of kibbie outfit and he will pose perfectly and elegantly in the photoshoot! Sometimes whenever you post pictures of him, people legit gush over kibbie Vil and the clothes. Literally his cat photos? It's

M W A H 💕❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕

-After photoshoots, you make sure to give him a cat treat for his good work! He'll purr in satisfaction and nestle himself on your lap for his rare yet comfy cuddles with you!

-The hunter kibbie!

-Honestly this cat comes out of NOWHERE. Whenever you try to find him, he always ends up behind you even before you know it. So sneaky and silent, but very much a loving cat!

-Oh, salon hours with him is no problem. Rook very much loves to be pampered! The problem on the other hand is nail clipping. The moment you take out the nail clipper, he's G O N E. Nonexistent. That cat is very much an outdoor kibbie and of course hunts with his murder mittens, he doesn't want his claws to be cut! How will he hunt for his prey?! >:(( Let's hope you locked the doors, windows, etc and know how to fight bacc because this cat? He W I L L NOT HESITATE-

Don't let this Angy face let your guard down cuz he WILL scratch >:((

-Afterwards though, Rook will apologize by gibing you lick kithes and sad eyes because he doesn't mean to scratch you :( but if you forgive him, he'll be super happy! Modelling cat outfits and cuddle times with you!! :D

-Feral cat. Just feral cat.

-Epel is a sweet cat, he greets you at the door like any cat! Well, when Vil's there. If Vil isn't near by and you enter, Epel is fighting with the other cats. For what reason? We may never know ❤️

-A soft ruffled kibbie but at what cost? He hate hate H A T E S salon hours, he doesn't want his fur too be brushed!! And doesn't want his murder mittens to be cut!! >:( trying to bring him in for pamper hours and he's just

Cuz he doesn't WANT IT!!!!

-Epel doesn't like to wear the kibbie outfits,,,however, there's always a different option for the kibbie kit! If it's a suit or smth grunge style maybe, he'll be ecstatic!! Cute kibbie? Nah, but handsome kibbie? Yessirrrr ❤️💕

{so sorry if it's not the best jducbdjdjfkdi-}

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #tokiidokii hc hour #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier #epel felmier x reader #twst kibbies au

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jbreenr · 3 years

Text

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐥𝐥

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale × Reader

Summary: You wanted to meet Ransom's family, he wanted to make sure you'd never want it again.

Word count: 3k.

Warning: Poorly written smut (+18 only, please), public sex (prompt 11), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do that, kids. be responsible), a bit of dirty talk, the Thrombeys being the Thrombeys. And I think that's it.

A/N: So, after finding out one of my stories was stolen an translated in Wattpad, I did not know if I should post this just yet but, what the hell? Let's do it. Anyway, this is for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 's Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge so, happy belated birthday! Yaaay. 🥳 Hope you like this at least a little and that it's not as bad as my paranoid brain thinks it is. Also, I just love how the prompts fit perfectly together, don't you? As always, lack of vocabulary and grammatical mistakes abound. *apologizes in español*

Wheel results (just attaching evidence):

ᴹʸ ᵍⁱᶠ

Draining, tedious, exasperating. Those were some of the adjectives Ransom associated with Thrombey family reunions. He'd arrive late, have some sort of conversation with his grandfather and leave early to do whatever that took him away from that big house.

Today though, he had a reason to stay for more than half an hour.

If it was up to him, you two would have stayed at home, happy, relaxed, and most importantly, naked in his bed, having a more pleasant time than the one you were most likely about to have.

He tried to persuade you. Of course he did! But your insistence and puppy eyes made it impossible for him to say no to your request.

So, here you were, getting out of his car, cake in sweaty hands and an excited smile on your lips, an expression so different from Ransom's, who seemed to be ready to get back behind the wheel and drive straight to Canada.

He didn't knock; he simply opened the door and held it for you to enter. If the three floor house was imposing from the outside, you felt impressed by the inside. Extravagant sculptures, apparently expensive paintings and other kinds of pieces of art were scattered everywhere, telling you just how wealthy and eccentric Ransom's family were.

“That's Harlan Thrombey! ” You exclaimed as you stood in front of the portrait of your forever favorite author holding a knife and a book.

“So?” Ransom asked, unconcerned.

You turned to him open-mouthed, the cake almost slipping off your palms as you went to playfully slap him in the arm.

“How come you are related to Harlan Thrombey and you didn't tell me?” Your question was more of a shock than an accusation.

The carefree gesture he did with his shoulders only accentuated his next words. “I did not think you would be interested in knowing.”

“I wouldn’t be interested?” Incredulity, flowing out of your lips. “He’s the best thriller author of all time! He’s like today’s Edgar Allan Poe!”

To say that you didn't believe him was an understatement. He knew for a fact that you liked Harlan Thrombey's books, just taking a look at the bookshelf in your apartment was proof enough of that.

“We call him grandpa here.” Said a femenine voice. A brunette walked in your direction, her pretty features hardening as she looked at your boyfriend. “Don't we, Hugh?”

He seemed to be ready to say something but decided not to. Instead he inhaled and placed his hand on your back.

“This is Y/N, the only reason I’m not telling you what you need to hear right now.”

Her eyes rolled in irritation and then turned to you. “I’m Meg. Let's introduce you to the rest of the family, shall we?.” And she dragged you to the room where more people were gathered together, discussing something, not before sending a deadly glare at Ransom.

Given the distance between you and him, you didn't listen to the heavy sigh he let out before waking behind.

“Everyone!” Meg called, making everyone leave whatever they were doing to look at her –and you, in consequence. “Meet Y/N, Hugh's new friend.” She then proceeded to introduce every single member of the family, including the housekeeper and the nurse, except for the grandfather, who apparently had a moment of inspiration and left them momentarily to put his ideas on paper.

None of them left their seat to go and shake your hand except for Meg's energetic mom, who hugged you and expressed how much she loved your coat even though it was soooo last season.

Sitting on a couch next to Ransom, you half expected someone to ask you about how you two met or how long had you been dating or what was it that you did for a living. Nothing. As fast as their attention was on you, it fell from you to their previous discussion.

You now understood why Ransom jokingly suggested deep cleaning the house instead of attending that reunion.

What you weren't aware of, Ransom thought, was that all of them were behaving wonderfully compared to previous times.

You didn't know if you felt more disappointed or uncomfortable. Ransom had left your side to go to the studio for a second and you had barely had any interaction with his family. All of them, dipped in their own matters to even notice your presence.

Fran, the housekeeper, was kind enough to take the cake to the kitchen and offer you a glass of water, but after giving it to you, she disappeared along with Meg and the nurse.

“So,” All at once, the room went quiet as Ransom's uncle spoke. “Have you read any of dad's books, Y/N?” Only until you heard your name was that your head snapped up.

“Oh, uhm… yeah. I'm a big fan.” Taken by surprise, you simply answered.

“Really? Which one have you read?”

And to that question, you felt suddenly included in the conversation since you had knowledge of the topic.

“I'm like fifty pages from finishing 'The Needle Game' and intrigue is eating me alive.” As you heard the excitement in your voice, you tried to compose yourself and said “Though 'Nick Of Time' is my favorite.” You smiled at him, hoping that your answer was a good one.

The woman that was introduced to you as Ransom's mother nodded as she licked her lips. The light of the fireplace, reflecting on her glasses as she moved her head up and down.

“Have you read 'Ultimatum' or 'Drop In The Pocket', dear?” Her tone was curious, but the look on her face said differently.

You responded anyway. “They're not bad. I feel like the ending of 'Drop In The Pocket' was a little vague and out of line but it can always be interpreted as an open ending so…” The change in their expressions told you that you had to add something else to that answer. Maybe it was not time for literature humor yet. “But I enjoyed both.”

She hummed and took her drink, detaching from the talk that continued with courtesy questions until it morphed into a heated discussion between Ransom's father and uncle, who would repeatedly ask for your opinion to back up his own.

The discomfort you felt, dispelled to be replaced by the disturbance of being bombarded with dozens of questions at a time, each louder than the other until they changed to a completely different topic to which you were occasionally included as a neutral point of view.

“She knows what she's talking about!” Said Richard at some point when you confirmed one of his arguments. “Thank you, dear.”

Ransom came back from his obligatory argument with his grandfather to find you nowhere to be seen.

“She's using the bathroom.” Informed Jacob, who did not take his eyes off of his cellphone.

Thinking that you went there to hide, he started his way to your potential direction until an overheard observation from his mother stopped him halfway through.

“… Did you hear how she talked about dad's work? Oh, I assure you she won't make it to next week with Ransom.”

Her and Richard's backs were to him, both of them unaware that their son was listening to their share of opinions.

“And did you see her hands?” Joni joined the criticism contest. “She could use some moisturizer, I tell you.”

As usual, they ignored her attempt to fit in and kept going.

“I know it's contradictory to say this,” Richard paused, as to make his point clear. “But he could do better.”

Despite their whispering, Ransom heard every single word and was glad that you were not there to see what was about to happen…

Ransom's words stuck on his throat when he saw you making your way out of the bathroom, fixing the skirt of your dress, with such niceness and warmth directed to him as you smiled, oblivious to the fact that the people you were trying to get to like you weren't going to.

His parents were right. He could do better. He could determine to not see them ever again and it would be the best thing to happen to him… Besides you, obviously.

“What's wrong?” Your concern was evident, just as his annoyance was undeniable.

Cold hands caressed his cheeks and Ransom thought of going back to Joni and tell her to fuck off. Your touch was soft, comforting, and gave him the greatest idea he'd ever had.

“I want to show you something.” Was his answer. It was better if you were the one who decided to never step on that house for the rest of your lives. It didn't matter if it was out of embarrassment.

Taking your hand in his, he guided you up the stairs to the first landing. The creaking sound of the old structure, probably alerting everyone in the other room that you were going to the next floor.

“Are you okay?” The sweet giggle that you let out when he abruptly stopped, almost making him feel bad about what he was seconds away from doing.

“Better than ever.” And he stamped his lips to yours.

Taken aback, it took you a second to respond. Hands on each side of his face as his own explored your body. When his fingers lifted your dress to caress your ass cheeks was when you ended the kiss.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a breathless whisper. “Not that I'm complaining.”

You were cornered against the wall with Ransom towering in front of your smaller frame.

Trying to escape from whatever he had in mind was useless, you knew that much. Though, you were not sure if you really wanted to escape.

“What I've been wanting to do ever since you got a shower without me this morning.” His lips found your jaw and descended to your neck where he sucked to create a bruise. Your eyes closed to the sensation.

“Wait. No, wait.” His fingertip that had started rubbing your still clothed bud paused it's motions as his eyes focused back on your face. “We can't do it. Not here.”

Ransom's finger went back to work, bringing a soft moan that you tried to suppress. “Why not? No one's gonna come here.” His other hand moved up your thigh to lift it. “Even if they did, they wouldn't notice.”

With an expert swing of his wrist, he moved your panties aside, letting the cold air that wandered inside the house hit you before his skilled middle finger entered you while still managing to rub your clit in circles with his thumb.

Adrenaline ran through your veins, fuel activating every nerve in your body and shaking away fear from your brain, replacing it with lust and boldness.

“I'm blaming you if we get caught.” Your hips jolted forward wanting to feel more of his hand, the contradiction between your words and actions, making him smirk.

He added a second finger. Knuckles deep and his cold ring slowly warming against the inside of your thigh, he said, “I'll take responsibility, sweetheart.” Pumping his fingers in and out, he felt your slick running down the back of his hand to his wrist, wetting his overly expensive watch and the cuff of his cozy sweater .“But I can't assure you we won't get caught.”

His words, instead of working as a bucket of cold water as one would expect, increased your need to be touched by him, the yearning for him to take you right there and then.

“Damn it, Ransom.” One of your hands flew to his shoulder to hold onto him for dear life. “I'm close.”

“You're not cumming unless I'm inside you, pretty thing.” At what point did he unfasten his belt and unzipped his trousers, you had no idea. The friction of his digits was gone in a second but the feeling of his already leaking tip rubbing against your most sensitive parts was enough to make you forget about those trifles.

Your lips opened, ready to tell him to keep his voice down when he suddenly thrusted home, stretching you out so deliciously that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the moan that threatened to inform everyone of your current activities.

Ransom's breathing hitched. Being inside you was a dream come true, feeling your walls enveloping his cock so fucking good… it was like you were made for each other, and he was going to prove it, even if his family didn't really get to know.

His hips started moving. Back and forth, back and forth. Delicately at first, letting you adjust to his size but the second he felt you throbbing around him, he increased the pace. Little by little his pounds gained power and energy.

Your whimpers –stuck in your throat, leaving only soft snuffles that crashed against Ransom's cheek, soon became more rapid, erratic and as his fingers dug in the flesh of your thigh to keep you still while he accommodated to go even deeper you heard a creaking noise.

Your boyfriend's blue eyes met yours, his movements never faltering despite the alert given by the dark wooden floor under your feet.

There was a conflict in your head, and Ransom could tell. The way you tightened and the pleading look on your face told different stories, yet Ransom knew they had the same ending.

Shaking your head, your eyes asked him not to do it, but you knew Ransom well enough to be sure that not even begging could stop him.

“You love it, don't you?” His smile grew bigger as his change of position allowed him to hit your sweet spot on and on, ripping high pitched whines from you and obligating you to close your eyes. “The thought of getting caught. The image of someone seeing how good I make you feel.” The placement of his foot, making the landing creak repeatedly each time he pushed up accompanying every word. “Fuck, you're talking me so well. Such a dirty girl, uh.”

His big hand yanked the strap of your dress down, exposing your left boob. Your already hard nipple was soon attacked by Ransom's fingertips. He'd pinch and twist it slightly, just enough to make your back arch in search of his touch.

Pleasure was overflowing your senses, you could feel your heart thudding in your ears and your legs losing strength. Your hand left your mouth to grip at the back of Ransom's neck to keep you from falling.

The sight of your lower lip trapped between your teeth didn't please Ransom. In other circumstances, he would've let you stay that way, as quiet as possible so no one would walk on you. This time though, it was his intention to rip the most delicious sounds from your lips so you thought of the possibility of his family listening.

And so, he lent to kiss you, passion and desire transmitted through his breath. His tongue asked for a permission that was not really required, but as you let it in, Ransom took the opportunity to bite down your lip.

With your lips forcefully parted and Ransom's restless hand traveling back to your bundle, you had no other option than to moan with each quick circle his digits drew.

A series of laughs and undistinguished words were heard from a distance. Both Ransom and you turned to see what they were about, stopping in your tracks with him still buried deep inside your needy cunt.

“Guess dinner's ready.” Unbothered about the information he just gave, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and resumed his movements.

A shaky oh, fuck fell from your lips as you felt the familiar knot in your stomach forming. Your head flew back, hitting the wall with a soft thud.

“Careful. We don't want to be obvious, do we?” You knew you were about to explode, and by the way your walls were clenching and your trembling body tried to separate from him, Ransom knew as well. “Let go, sweetheart.” A roar erupted from him as he felt you tightening around his length. “Cum for me.”

With a last, powerful thrust of his hips, you let out a silent scream. The coil snapped, making you see a kaleidoscope of colors behind your eyelids and listen to a loud ring in your ears.

Ransom followed right after, cursing as he finished inside of you, coating you with every last drop and making sure everything would stay there.

He slid out, leaving you with a feeling of emptiness as he zipped his trousers and took a step back to let you fix your appearance.

You managed to accommodate your dress just in time for Ransom's family to walk out of the room they were in to see you. Your agitated breathing and blushed cheeks, getting everyone's attention.

“Are you okay, dear?” Ransom's dad asked.

“She's fine.” Your boyfriend answered for you. “She's feeling a little sick. I better take her home.” He took you by the hand and helped you down the stairs to the door, which you thanked. Had he not done it, you would have tripped taking the first step.

“But she hasn't met grandpa yet.” Meg noted, furrowing her brows.

“It'll be next time.” And with that, Ransom took you out of the house and in the passenger seat of his car without giving anyone the chance to say goodbye.

When you were at a considerable distance, you sighed, letting out the air you didn't know you were holding.

“Just so you know, there won't be a next time.” You informed him, against your want to meet his grandfather.

“Why not?” He asked with a chuckle, already knowing the answer.

“Cause embarrassment won't let me come back in the near future.”

Behind an eye roll and a tap on your thigh, Ransom hid the triumphant grimace his perfectly carried out plan gave him.

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 3 years

Text

The Oath | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! I am back on my bullshit, and by "bullshit" I mean listening to Hozier songs and making the lyrics about Bucky. This one is a little more loosely based on the song compared to my other ones, I just couldn't stop thinking about this certain line.

As always, send me any comments, questions, or requests you may have! 🥰

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @emetophilily @breakablebarnes 💘💘💘

"Honey, when you kill the lights,

and kiss my eyes,

I feel like a person

for a moment of my life.

Your confession struck fear into Bucky’s heart. Hearing those words was amazing and admittedly, something he'd never dreamed of, but he was nowhere near prepared to hear them.

Did he love you back? Of course he did.

You’d become his best friend, his most trusted confidant, and his biggest source of comfort and joy prior to becoming his girlfriend. It was almost as though he loved you before he knew it, only smiling and laughing genuinely when spending time with you. In fact, no one had ever seen him smile the way he did when you were near-it was like he became a different person. When you were around, he felt real. Spending time alone with you meant that the charade he played everyday around those he worked with could melt away. He could be himself and tell you everything, from the dark and terrifying things that he'd endured under Hydra to sweet stories about his sister Rebecca and his friendship with Steve.

But "I love you" was...scary.

"How is that scary?" Sam had asked when Bucky told him the situation, "She loves you. You should be happy!"

Bucky stood at the counter, pouring himself another whiskey and cringing at Sam's response. He'd been saying the same thing to himself over and over again for days since you'd told him how you felt, and now Sam's words were mimicking his incessant thoughts.

"I know! It's just-it's kind of...complicated," Bucky muttered. He looked over at Sam for a response, but didn't get one. Sam sat on the couch with his arms crossed and his eyebrow cocked at Bucky expectantly, waiting for him to elaborate. After a few moments of silence Sam gestured for Bucky to continue, causing a deep sigh to leave Bucky's lips. "Okay, fine. It's not complicated," Bucky said with a huff. He leaned against the counter and took a long sip of his whiskey, trying to stall. "It's just not what I expected, alright? I thought I'd be alone for however many years I have left...and now I have this person who loves me? I don't know how to deal with that."

Sam rolled his eyes and finally spoke again, "You don't have to deal with it. If you love her, then tell her. She said she'd give you some time to figure it out-but you can't wait forever..."

"I know!" Bucky interjected, "Things are just so different now, you know? Back in-when I was young, 'I love you' wasn't something people just said-"

"Oh, don't give me that 'back when I was your age' bullshit" Sam joked, "We both know that has nothing to do with you being old. You're nervous...that's normal". Bucky nodded, feeling his cheeks warm up at Sam's comment. It was embarrassing for him to admit to his fear and anxiety, especially about something that shouldn't scare him at all. "I guess I'm just not sure if I'm...ready. It's a big deal. I've never felt this way about anyone and after everything that happened, I didn't think I'd be in this position." He stared down into his glass, absentmindedly sloshing his whiskey from side to side. His life had had so many weird twists and turns, most of which were horrible, and now that something good had happened to him, he didn't know how to handle it.

"You know who you should be saying these things to?" Sam asked. Bucky gave a knowing sigh before finishing his drink in one gulp and grabbing his jacket. "Thanks, Sam," he murmured before heading out the door and booking it to your apartment.

It had been four long days since you had worked up the courage to tell Bucky you loved him, and he hadn't said it back. You'd assumed that he wouldn't, knowing full well that entering into a relationship had been a lot for him, and now adding the L word to the mix was sure to overwhelm him a bit. But part of you had secretly hoped he would.

When he didn't, you'd forbidden yourself to be upset. Normally, you'd be climbing the walls by now if the guy you'd been dating hadn't returned your 'I love you'-but Bucky was a special case. You swore to him (and yourself) that you'd give him as much time as he needed with absolutely zero pressure- and you hadn't told Bucky you loved him just so he'd say it back. You'd said it because you meant it, and because you wanted him to know that, even after everything he did as The Winter Soldier, he was loved- genuinely and deeply.

This didn't stop you, however, from getting a surge of anxiety every time your phone buzzed. After telling Bucky how you felt, he'd gone almost completely radio silent and rain checked on every plan the two of you had made. Part of you wanted him to just tell you that he wasn't able to say it back so you could stop getting your hopes up, but of course he wasn't going to do that.

As you got out of the elevator of your apartment building and walked toward your door, you saw Mr. James Buchanan Barnes leaning against your front door, waiting for you. "And do what do I owe this pleasure?" you asked as you stretched up on your tip toes to give him a kiss. His lips brushed yours ever so gently, leaving you wanting more- but you always wanted more.

"I wanted to talk to you about something..." he murmured, making your heart stop. Enough people had said that to you in your lifetime that you knew whatever he was about to say wasn't going to be good. With shaky hands, you unlocked your front door and motioned for Bucky to follow you inside. He shut the door behind him and nervously toyed with the zipper on his leather jacket, staring at you with an unmatched intensity.

You wanted to speak, but knew you couldn't trust your voice not to waver. Wordlessly, you gestured to the couch but he refused to sit. His nervous energy wasn't going to let him sit down and relax until he said everything he needed to, so he launched into his confession without warning:

"I-I love you. I wasn't prepared for this-for you, I mean. I didn't expect to find someone after everything I did and...you look into my eyes and it feels like you really see me, you know? When I'm with you, it's like I'm a person, again- I don't know how you do that, how you make me feel whole... I'm sorry it took me so long to say it back. I've known that I love you for a long time, it's just-to me, 'I love you' is kind of like an oath. It's something you swear to the person you care about most and...I don't know. I guess I wasn't really sure I was the one you should be swearing that to, given all the shit in my past. But I'm here now to tell you: I love you."

An unrelenting silence filled the room as Bucky finished speaking. You remained frozen on the couch, completely taken aback by his admission and relieved that he hadn't dropped by to dump you. "Can you- um, are you okay?" Bucky asked, the weight of his confession and your lack of response beginning to bother him. His question finally snapped you out of your stupor, and you leapt off the couch into his arms.

"Sorry, Buck, I- I kind of thought you were here to break up with me..." you confessed with a nervous laugh. He screwed his eyes shut and tensed his jaw as a wave of guilt washed over him. "Oh, I'm so sorry, baby. I didn't mean to scare you, I should've called first-"

"No, no, no, no, no" you sang, quieting him, "This was better. Very spontaneous and romantic". He shot you a playful eye roll before pulling you in for a deep kiss, betraying how much he really loved you.

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charliedawn · 3 years

Text

What is their reaction when they find out that they may have grown attached to you ?

You know how Jason can be very insecure and self-conscious ? Well. Prepare for a whole new level. He will check himself in the mirror when you're not looking, and if he doesn't like what he is seeing ? He will smash the mirror and go in a corner to sit and move back and forth, to give himself some reassurance. He still remembers what his mother used to tell him.

" Persons are a nuisance, Jason. You don't need them to survive."

But then, why does he feel like he needs you ? He feels conflicted as to what to believe.

Super jumpy ! He will jump almost every time you touch him or lose his grip of the things he is holding, often ending broken and splattered on the floor. He would be as clumsy as Jason and would want you to spend more time with him. However, he would also be scared of you breaking his heart.

" I..I c..care.."

Like many of your patients, Brahms has trouble finding his words. At first, many thought he was mute, like Jason or Michael. This is why hearing him speak to you always means it is important.

" I..I care.."

He wants to say many things, how he cherishes every moment you spend together, how you make his heart race everytime you are near him or how he wants you to be by his side forever..But, he can't. He can just hope that what he feels can be expressed through eye contact. You may not understand what he wants to say, but you still try to understand. You put your hand on his and reply with a compassionate smile.

" I care about you too. You are a very good friend, Brahms.."

Did you just indirectly friendzone him ? Possibly..You walk out and Brahms sighs before sitting on his bed while hugging his doll to comfort him.

" You turn me on."

He will be absolutely frank about it. He will just step up and tell you in front of anyone. He doesn't give a damn if the others hear him as well. Also, creep alert, will watch you sleep. He will sneak in your bedroom in the middle of the night and just look at you sleep. He wants to touch you so bad, but he knows that that would wake you up. And he doesn't want that. He will just admire you from afar, even pretend that you may like him back. He would just want to get close to you, to look at you and wonder what you may be dreaming about..hoping that you are dreaming of him.

" Oh my sweet..You look so perfect when you sleep.."

Now..You know how Five is very serious about his relationship with Dolores ? Well, you better be prepared by lots of imaginary fights between the two of them, and even a break-up ! *gasp* Drama. He would be in a very bad mood and would scream and attack everyone that approaches his personal space. He would also smash everything in his room. Like, everything. So much that the other nurses would be too scared of him and ask you to handle it.

" Hey. Are you okay, Five ? Did something happen ?"

He would snort and look up at you with visible frustration.

" You happened. Dolores and I broke up. Not that she was one to share her feelings anyway."

You frown in incomprehension before asking with a small airy laugh.

" I don't understand, what does that have to do with me ?"

Your question seems to trigger a nerve and he suddenly stands up to look at you dead in the eye with anger and, somehow, pain..

" Everything ! You're too nice ! Too forgiving ! Too perfect ! You wiped our past as if it was nothing, goddammit ! We're serial killers, Y/N! We're monsters and you treat us as if we were..as if we were.."

He doesn't get to finish that sentence as he seems on the verge of tears. He jumps on his bed to sit and hide his face behind his knees. You seem to finally understand the problem and sigh before sitting next to Five.

" It's okay to have feelings, Five. You can't hide them forever. I'm sorry if it upsets you but, I don't think you're all that bad. Sure, you kill and even eat people. But, I've seen you change. You are a lot less violent and a few more months ? And I'm sure you'll be out of here in no time."

He looks up at you again with a sort of desperation, very uncharacteristic of Five, before finally asking in a tearful voice.

" What if..What if I don't want to go back ? Out there, I'm just a freak. But, here ? I got.."

He doesn't finish his sentence, but you guess what he is going to say and smile understandingly.

"..Friends ?"

He doesn't answer, he only suddenly hugs you tightly and hides his face in your skirt. You hesitate before slowly petting the top of his head affectionately. The gesture seems to relax him, but he quickly straightens up and wipes his tears away. He then stands up and apologizes.

" I..I'm sorry, it was highly inappropriate of me. I'll..I'll let you work."

Before you could say anything, he runs out of the room and leaves you confused and worried.

Lots of uncontrollable laughter. More than usual. He is very nervous when you're around him and sometimes cries while laughing, showing that he is deeply ashamed of his condition. He is very bipolar and will sometimes act very casually around you, only to break into tears when you leave the room. He will stare at you and turn his gaze away as soon as you would notice.

" Well, would you look at that ? Sir Sh*tty the clown seems to have a little crush on the nice nurse.."

Pennywise would tease him about it while Penny cackles behind him. Arthur glares at them both before either ignoring them or leaving the room.

No. Nope. Certainly not. He will try to hide from you. He knows very well what he is feeling, and also what happens to the people he feels this way towards. He just managed to get rid of his curse, he is not about to risk getting on a murder rampage again ! Every time he would see you, he would pretend to be busy or hide. One time, he even jumped out the window to get away from you. It is very odd since Michael is normally the most chill and calm out of all the patients. But one look at you ? And he becomes a panicking mess. He has to get away. He doesn't want to hurt you like he hurt everyone else close to him, like he hurt his family..

" Me ? Having feelings ? Ah !"

One word: denial. He doesn't want to hear about things like feelings. He saved you ? Bah. It was only because he was bored. He will deny everything, but still follow you and pop up out of nowhere to see what you're doing. He enjoys talking to you, even if he doesn't want to admit it.

" Pennywise..You're staring again."

Penny would gently warn him as his big brother would pretend to not have done such a thing.

" Can't an old clown appreciate to look at nice things sometimes ?"

Penny frowns, not understanding his big brother's words until Freddy intervenes by popping next to him with a huge grin.

" Let it go, kid. Your big bro is just too much of a chicken to go talk to her.."

Pennywise growls in annoyance at Freddy before raising his middle finger at him.

" F*ck off Freddy ! At least I don't watch her sleep like a total perv !"

That would result in a fight that you would have to break. Again..

" Pennywise..I think I'm sick.."

Pennywise would admit some day to Pennywise that would sigh in annoyance.

" Stop saying stupid sh*t. You know very well that we can't be sick."

But, upon seeing the devastated face of his brother, Pennywise sighs loudly before turning towards him to focus his whole attention on him.

" Fiiinnneee...Tell me."

Penny's mood seems to lit up as his brother seems to be willing to listen to him.

" OK, so it concerns the nurse, Y/N. Everytime they are near me, I feel things in my stomach, like a million kids were kicking me in there..Everytime they touch me, I feel as if a part of me in my chest is about to burst and I feel warm, very very warm. And then, I feel very very bad when they talk to anyone else..It's horrible. I want it to stop..Should I eat them ?"

Pennywise stays silent for a while before saying with an unusual straight face.

" Penny.."

He starts, but Penny starts panicking as he sees the sour look on his brother's face.

" Oh ! It's bad, isn't it ?! What is it ?! How long do I have ?!"

Pennywise rolls his eyes dramatically at his brother's exaggerated reaction before cutting him off in his worried questions.

" Shut up, you idiot ! You're not dying. You're just feeling.."things" for them."

Penny stops talking and frowns in confusion, his eyes diverging in deep concentration, as if trying to understand Pennywise's words.

" Things ?! What things ?!"

He finally asks with his eyes wide open in obvious loss and Pennywise face-palms himself before answering with a loud sigh.

" You're falling in love, you dumb f*ck !"

At the word, Penny's face freezes and his smile goes downwards as he realizes that his older brother is right.

" Oh, sh*t.."

He curses and Pennywise frowns, as Penny hates curses.

" Language ! I'm the only one allowed to use curses, remember ?!"

Penny nods before asking in a worried tone.

" How do I get rid of it ? I don't like it.."

Pennywise can't help but feel sorry for Penny, as he knew better than anyone that there was no turning back..

" I'm sorry kid. But if it's really love ? You can't..like I can't.."

Penny's eyes widen at his brother's confession.

" You..You..love her too ?"

Pennywise seems to realize what he just said and groans before walking away. He didn't want anyone to know, even though Penny is his brother. Penny understands the wish of his brother to be left alone and starts walking out in the garden to think over what his older brother said..Could it be ? Could he really be falling in love ?

Bonus : The deal

The Horde is blindfolded and dragged to another room where a man and a woman are waiting for them. At first look, he can already tell that this man is one of the unworthy. The unbroken. The weak..His interest is cut short and he then turns towards the woman sitting next to him. Now, this one was interesting..Her eyes betrayed a much deeper complexity and she had a scar running from her forehead to her left cheek that proved she was worthy.

" You..You are broken. Rejoice.."

The woman smiles, but before she could start talking, her partner does it for her.

" Mister Wendell Crumb, we have a mission for you."

But Kevin only grits his teeths at the man.

" You are impure..I want to kill you.."

The man arks an eyebrow, but ignores his threat.

" Fine. Whatever. But first, I want you to be my spy. We didn't get you out of this prison for nothing, mister Wendell Crumb. We want you to be our little spy in the facility. We want you to find out how a certain miss L/N managed to control the patients outside of the facility. Do that, and you'll be as free as a bird..Do we have a deal ?"

He frowns, they wanted him to spy on a nurse ? She must be quite special for them to go to such lengths, to use him as a spy..Yes, quite the unique prey. The Beast was already impatient and Kevin licks his lips before nodding.

" Fine, but on one condition. When you're finished with her, I get to eat her heart.."

The request seems to take the man aback, but it is the lady that Kevin is looking at. She smiles coldly before nodding in agreement.

" Deal."

Kevin finally smiles widely and can't help the excited giggle that gets out from deep within him. Then, the dark and low voice of the beast makes itself heard as the smile grows almost ferocious as he announces. .

" Let the hunt begin.."

#fandoms #fanfic #imagine #slashers #pennywise 1990 #pennywise 1990 x y/n x pennywise 2017 #pennywise 2017 #pennywise x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #number five x reader #arthur x reader #the joker x reader #jason voorhees x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader

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spideyspeaches · 3 years

Text

Roller-coaster ↬ p.p

gif’s not mine

A/N: My take on What if Peter was in Wandavision? But with a twist ;) Beta read by my wifey @stars-aligning 🥰🥰

Warnings: canon typical voilence? mentions of death. Also the timeline doesn’t really make sense, just pretend everyone is of the same age. OH and Wandavision spoilers :)

WC: 9k (longest one shot I’ve ever written 😭)

Pairing: Peter Parker x ex!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist

"Ben? What's wrong? Why are you looking at her like that?"

"I- I don't. I don't know. She seems familiar."

"Familiar? Familiar how?"

"Like her and I don't belong here. Like we're from another world."

Working with Tony Stark as his intern, then head of the R&D and now working in the labs as the head of the department felt surreal, a fresh breath of air every time he looked at his desk, with his name written on it. It had been Peter’s dream to meet Tony Stark, maybe work with him too.

And then he got bit by a radioactive spider, giving him super strength, super eyesight and apparently super luck too, because though he liked to think that he was working in SI due to his intelligence, the spider bite did play a role in becoming his mentor’s favourite intern, without which he might have not had a chance to meet him hands on.

Tony kept reminding him that even if Peter had not been bit by the spider, he would have still secured a high position in Stark Industries, with his disarming intelligence that rivaled Tony’s own and charmingly trippy personality.

Peter begged to differ. But then again, he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in it’s mouth. Ever since he was a bushy haired, rosy cheeked jittery teenager, he had always worshiped the ground Tony walked on.

Peter remembers the day he got an anonymous letter, which turned out to be SHIELD's handiwork, asking him to join them in their base in New York, even if he insisted that he wasn't interested in being a superspy wannabe. He was skeptical at first, why would the most paranoid of paranoid agents send him a letter in mail? Him, twenty three years old Peter Parker, who lives in a shitty one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn with termite issues and smokes weed like the government is going to ban tobacco and is barely able to take care of himself with the overload of work.

Maybe it was just his Parker luck, or the fact that he was a freelance vigilante who looked after New York in a skintight spandex suit, because the safety of the people was apparently second in priority to the government. They'd rather have people die than have an illegal protector.

Yeah so Peter was salty, and what about It?

Slinging his satchel higher, he saw the sleek black car in confusion, trying to get a look at the number plate before the lift binged on arrival, walking into the open door. He swore he was either hallucinating or in midst of an intense flashback of the events that lead to what people dubbed as the 'Civil War', back to when he had been shaken out of his mind watching Tony Stark eat his aunt’s homemade walnut date loaf that had more salt than sugar.

His thoughts were put to a halt when he entered his and his aunt's old apartment in Queen’s after a long week of Spidey on mission and nearly getting (illegally) fired, footsteps coming to a pit stop. It's not like it's everyday you come face to face with Agent Coulson, Nick Fury and your ex not- really- girlfriend, somehow all in one day all together.

"So… um. What are you- What are you guys doing here again?" he asked, folding his hands on his chest defensively, leaning into his aunt's side as he whispered, "how long have they been sitting here?" from the corner of his mouth.

Fury raised a non-existent eyebrow, looking at him with a dagger for eye, making Peter shift nervously. Agent Coulson looked uncomfortable and You, You looked strangely in your element, sitting on the couch with one leg over the other, a neutral expression on your face.

Back when he was still in high school, when he'd first met you, he used to be in awe of how outgoing you were, seemingly adjusting in whichever situation you were thrown in. You had always accommodated to your surroundings, but with a start he realised that he had never seen you so… You in a while.

Not during your visit to the Avengers tower, not during the first time you came into his bedroom, all alone. Not when he had seen you take down a mugger on your way home from your first date without even as much as batting an eye.

"They were here ten minutes or so before you came home. It's creepy, as if they knew you were visiting," May answered with a whisper, wearily eyeballing them before moving towards the kitchen, leaving Peter unattended to Your and Fury's piercing gazes.

"I'm sure they know my monthly schedule before I do," Peter said, turning to look at the aforementioned agents. "So... you like, work for SHIELD, too?" He asked, wringing his hands to abate the tension in them.

"Yes, she does, but that's not what we're here for, Mister Parker," Fury said in his gruff voice, sitting back with a sauve expression. Peter gulped as Agent Coulson looked him in the eye, finally noticing the thin file he held in his hands.

"Well what are you here for?" Peter asked, mustering up some confidence as he tried not to look at You or the eye that Fury had that wasn’t covered by the patch.

"We need you to come to Westview, New Jersey with us," You said, a final no nonsense undertone in your voice. He shuddered when he heard you, remembering how soft and sweet you used to be. But that was before you disappeared out of nowhere, and apparently that nowhere was with SHIELD.

"Me as in Peter Parker or Spider-Man?" he asked, looking behind his shoulder to make sure May wasn't listening. It's not like she didn't know about his… nightly whereabouts, he just wasn't comfortable with making her worry. She already had too much to deal with, with the nephew by day and vigilante by night thing he had going on.

It was also a little concerning that the three in front of him knew that he was visiting her today. He wondered if his apartment was bugged (well, more than the daily roaches and ants) or if SHIELD had been keeping an eye on him after he had denied their offer, instead opting to stay in SI.

It was probably the second one, although the first one was entirely a possibility. He was going to need to talk with Mister Stark about debugging his shitty one bedroom apartment in Brooklyn.

"We need Peter Parker and his tech skills for this one," Fury said, before shoving the file in Peter's hands and crossing his own, “and my offer still stands.”

"For the last time, I'm not joining your little murderous boy band," Peter grumbled, scrunching his eyebrows as he looked at your twitching lips, as if holding in laughter. "I'm perfectly content with working with Dr. Connors in his little laboratory in SI."

Fury didn’t look convinced and opened his mouth to probably threaten Peter, when Aunt May came in with a tray of cookies. They smelled amazing, too good to be made by her, she probably brought them from Delmer’s.

“Oh- Were you…? I just thought you guys might want to eat something,” She said awkwardly, looking at Peter with pleading eyes.

“That’s very thoughtful of you, May! I would love to eat some of those, I’m famished,” You butt in, taking the tray from her with a smile.

“Um, May, you can um- you know?” Peter gestured, shifting on his legs, hoping that May would get the message before she stood for a minute too long. He didn’t like the way Nick Fury’s eye was looking at him, his tranquilizer gun suddenly visible from his leather jacket.

“Don’t be rude Pete, here May, I’ll help you get that.” You smiled, winking at him and dragging May by her arm, who was mouthing “she’s such a sweetheart” behind her shoulders.

"What if I told you that his man accidently got evicted due to some legal issues? And that now you're legally unemployed with severe financial issues that need to be looked after because the government suspects something illegal brewing?" Fury continued, looking him dead in the eye.

"Are you seriously blackmailing me? Threatening to unemploy me after all that shit you put me through with Mysterio?" Peter defended, raising a disbelieving eyebrow, watching you strutt back into the room, distracted by the sway of your hips in your mom jeans. He tried to shake the image, rolling his head to crack some tension that had built at the base of his skull.

"Mysterio was a mistake, Parker. This one is not; and we really need you for this one. Besides, remember that you're still a vigilante that hasn't signed the Accords of Sokovia."

Peter stiffened that the mention of the Accords. He thought the government was over it after the second amendment after the arrest of Thaddeus Ross, but apparently not.

"You said that last time and I almost died! My ex-girlfriend almost died, my best friend nearly died, heck half of Europe almost died because you Director Fury, apparently trust some superhero wannabe in a green and purple costume and overlook facts that could potentially harm someone. So the answer is clearly no!" he retorted, flopping the file on the table as he resisted the urge to sit on the floor flat on his back.

The three agents were looking at him with an unreadable expression, making him uncomfortable in his skin.

"Well, it's all up to you then." His voice had a finality to it, one that irked him to no end.

"Do I have a choice?" He sighed after a beat, looking at the three of you with a forlorn expression.

"Get your equipment ready, Mr. Parker. We'll be leaving for the camp tonight. You can read the details in this file." He heard Agent Coulson say (he was pretty sure his name was Phil), trying to make sense of how fast everything was going past the chronic tinnitus in his ears.

"It's Dr. Peter Parker," he muttered fruitlessly, blushing under your raised eyebrow.

***

"So, I didn't know you got a PhD. I knew you were smart, still are, considering that you're a PhD at twenty two," You said, sipping on your virgin mojito, and placing the mug in front of you.

Peter had taken you to a cafe after the confrontation, wanting to know more about your whereabouts and how he had not noticed that you were a superspy all of his high school years. You had retorted with a simple "I'm a spy, that's why,” which he found pretty badass.

"Well, yeah, I did my undergraduate and PhD together." He shrugged casually, looking out of the window to avoid looking at you.

You had always been beautiful, but somehow, you had become even more beautiful than the last time Peter saw you.

"That sounds brutal. Only you can manage that," You joked. You weren't going to admit it, but you had missed being with Peter, joking with him and watching his beautiful side profile as he blushed under your scrutinizing gaze.

"So, um. This thing, what is it about?" Peter asked, snapping you out of your daze.

"Huh? Oh it's a long story. Like really long, if this was a TV show it would take five episodes for me to explain." You gestured, dismissing his scowl. "Okay, so you remember that time when that super high security facility was broken in back in december 2019?"

"Which super high facility? There are a lot of break ins happening in high security facilities in America, and it's more than concerning, considering they're supposed to be super high security." He said, fiddling with his own drink.

"Okay, Yeah that's true. It was a S.W.O.R.D facility, and long story short, Wanda Maximoff kidnapped her corpse husband to reenact the dad-knows-best suburban lifestyle with an entire town held as her hostage." You said, looking over your shoulders to make sure no one was listening.

"Wanda stole Vision's corpse? Wait, is this about Westview? 'The Town that ceased to exist'? Is that what happened? Is this some sort of mind control thing? Cause I know she can make people believe what she wants them to..." Peter whispered, leaning in to show that he was interested. You took a moment to admire his front profile, his broken nose and dimpled chin, rosy lips and sharp cheekbones, accidently zoning out on his theories.

Leaning forward, you brought a hand up his face, pushing a stray curl behind his ears, cutting him short of his rambling.

"W-what?" He stuttered, his breath hitching, making the table shake with a wince.

"You have nice hair." You commented with a smirk, caressing his hair one more time.

"You said that in the senior's party too, and well, there's no sex happening anytime soon." He said, rolling his eyes, sitting back in his hair with his hands folded on his chest.

"I like being optimistic." You rolled your own eyes, heart beating a mile a minute at the reminder of your relationship- ex relationship with Peter, "so what were you saying about Westview? I kind of zoned out."

You watched him roll his eyes again, trying not to let your eyes wander around his biceps and the little bit of his collarbones peeking from his shirt, unbuttoned from the top, also exposing the thin chain that he always seems to be wearing. With a start you realised that it was the one you had gifted him on his eighteenth birthday.

"So this town, Westview, it just disappeared right? Behind a barrier of sorts? Is it like, coming from an energy source? Was it created by Wanda? " he asked, ever his inquisitive self.

"Yeah, apparently she's created an alternate reality, sitcom style, with the people of Westview trapped in it."

"So she's basically starring in a fanfiction alternate reality of sorts but a sitcom format? Wouldn't blame her, poor woman's been through a lot." He nodded, shifting in his seat. He could feel your eyes burning a hole in his skull, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "Are you staying in a hotel? Or a shield facility?"

"Nope," You answered, leaning back on your chair. "Am I still allowed to stay in your room? With the doors open?"

He watched you with narrowed eyes, tilting his head with a smirk, replying to you with a nod, "alright."

***

"Did you pack your mittens? The extra warm ones with a built in heater? You know you're susceptible to frost bites-"

"May! I packed my mittens." Peter murmured, ducking his head in embarrassment as he raised an eyebrow at your amused smile.

"Okay, okay, that's great. Socks? Painkillers? Extra pair of glasses?" she asked, fumbling around the room like she did whenever he went on field trips.

"Yes, May!"

"Great. Stay safe, okay?" Her eyes softened, holding his cheeks in his hand like he was a seven year old, living with them with a knowledge of death no seven year old should have. Sighing, he leant into her palm, holding his own hand encompassing her small one. Giving her a smile, he kissed her cheek. “Ti amo, May. I’ll call you once I get there, okay?”

She nodded, pulling him into her embrace, though she knew full well that he’s going to forget to call her, too excited to be in the vicinity of multiple certified geniuses and other figures of authority.

***

"Is there anything I should know about? Like anything unexpected?" Peter asked, looking at the camp in awe as the jeep pulled over makeshift gates, a bunch of soldiers surrounding them.

Peter was used to seeing the hustle and bustle of camps, considering all the missions he had gone through with the Avengers, back when Steve wasn’t retired and the newer generation of avengers hadn’t entered.

“Your blood’s radioactive, right?” You asked, turning to face him with a smile.

“Yeah. Why? Is that relevant?” he replied, raising an eyebrow as he saw someone carrying his bags before he could protest.

“Well, Dr. Lewis found out about this hexagonal anomaly, no one really knows what it is, but the source seems to be emitting huge amounts of radiations,” You said, getting off the jeep, pulling Peter out with you. Walking towards the crowded camp, you came face to face with the tent where everything was set up.

“Doctor Darcy Lewis?” Peter said, looking at the place in awe. It wasn’t extravagant, but the technology surrounding the tent, the vans and what seemed to be a broadcasting antenna were all way beyond the regular one used in tech companies, which is funny, considering he’s been working with Mr. Stark his whole teenage life.

“Yup, that’s her, nerd.”

“So, what exactly is this Hexagon? Is it, like, a barrier of sorts? Can everyone go in?” He asked, looking around with glinting eyes, lips twitching in a smirk as he saw the barrier in question. His super hearing caught the static sound it emitted, wincing at the sharp noises. His boots crunched under the snow as he felt the thing pull him towards it, your voice muffled by the noises of the hex.

It was something he had never seen before, like the static of a TV with a lost signal, glowing red in places as if reaching out to him. His senses seemed dull, the world greying around the way it had before he was bit by the radioactive spider. The spider bite had enhanced his vision in a way that he saw colours not visible to the human eye, a technicolour wonder that even Bruce couldn’t solve.

He felt a tug, looking down at his shoes, wondering if he had just imagined it.

“Mom and dad have been, not fighting, just like different.”

He swore he felt a white light flash in front of him, his spidey sense buzzing at the base of his skull, tingling all the way to his spine as he straightened up to dissipate the feeling, shifting awkwardly.

“Only Captain Rambeau has gone in and come back intact so far. It’s emitting a colossal amount of cosmic microwave background radiation, also known as CMBR, and once you get into it, your mind doesn’t really stay your own, so no one has volunteered other than her. Everyone knows the risk,” You said, startling him, a sharp contrast to the voices that seemed to have suddenly accumulated in his brain.

“If you’re going to break the sound barrier, please just take your brother with you!”

‘Sound barrier?’ he thought, looking back at the hex as it flashed red, the tug strong enough to make him stumble in his place. You looked at him weirdly, asking if he was okay, but he wasn’t listening, turning to ask you what the red flash meant, distortion evident in the barrier.

“Captain Rambeau? The daughter of the director of SWORD?” he asked instead.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Damn.” He sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair, and dragging it down his face.

Walking inside the tent, Peter was hit with a face full of cold air, and the hundreds of monitors nearly gave him a sensory overload. The people running around didn’t help, either. “Where do I keep this?” He asked, pointing to his bag full of equipment that Fury had asked for.

“You can set up over here, newbie,” A new voice said chirpily. Turning around, he came face to face with the Darcy Lewis, eyes widening as he took in her smiley presence, another human who he didn't recognise standing behind her. “Sorry, I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Doctor D-”

“Darcy Lewis, I know- I’m a fan!”

“Aw look at you, you have a fanboy at your hand,” Captain Monica Rambeau said, strutting in and keeping a hand on her shoulder, confidence radiating off of her every pore.

"And… You are?" he asked awkwardly, looking pointedly at the FBI agent. He saw Darcy hide a snicker behind her hand, patting his shoulder and shoving him forward.

The man fell forward, steadying himself on the table before he flicked a card seemingly out of nowhere. "Agent Jimmy Woo, FBI,” he said proudly, a smile on his cute little baby face. Peter was left staring in awe, wondering how he had done that.

"Wait, can you do that again? How did you do that?!"

"It's cool, isn't it? I could teach you if you want."

"Yes, of course, but how did you do it? It appeared out of nowhere and if you take in consideration the law of conservation of mass, it can neither be created nor be destroyed and it just seemed to have accumulated-"

"It's a trick of illusion. You see, when I opened my palms, I-"

"Peter, let's set things up shall we?" You interrupted their session, a smirk on yours and the other women's faces, shaking your head.

Ditching the bag on the counter, he nodded, willing his heart to stop beating out of his chest. This was the coolest thing that had ever happened to him next to Tony Stark sitting on his aunt’s old futon. And the magic trick.

“This is the coolest day of my life,” he whispered, shrugging when you chuckled at his excitement. “Ned’s going to freak out.”

“Wait until you see the schematics and control panels.” You smirked, making him raise an eyebrow as he blushed, the flush apparent from his neck to his ear. The others scattered just as he finished setting his station up, fidgeting with the radio, when the voice of Hayward boomed across the cubicle.

“Ah, Mister Parker!” he says, a faux smile on his face as he looks at the station, making Peter shift uncomfortably. The weird tingling of his spidey-sense came up again, his hand automatically reaching there to scratch at the itch.

“Here we go again,” Darcy muttered, patting Peter’s back, her eye roll loud enough for him to glance at her.

“It- It’s doctor,” he muttered, hearing a “he gets me” from Darcy.

“Very well, Doctor Parker it is, then. I’m Hayward, welcome to SWORD.”

“SWORD? I thought this was a SHIELD thing?”

“...Fury didn’t brief you?”

“He did! He was just very vague, hence why I’m asking. What exactly have I been called here for?”

The silence that took over was palpable, with you shifting awkwardly as Hayward eyeballed them all, looking at the five of them morosely before saying, “Brief him Monica,” and leaving.

“God, is every higher official such a dick here?” Peter grumbled, watching him retreat, shaking his head as he threw the ball of paper he hadn’t noticed he had been fidgeting with.

“See? He agrees, I like him.” Darcy nodded, pulling him with her towards the briefing table.

“This all started when the town of Westview disappeared after the second blip,” Monica said, pulling up holographs that showed the image of people reappearing from the snap, his breathing increasing in pace as he remembered vaguely of his own reappearance.

The whole situation was fucked up. After stealing Vision’s corpse, Wanda had basically resurrected him, holding and controlling thousands of people, an entire fucking town. Looking at the list of all the missing people, his eyes zeroed on to one particular face. He racked his memory to remember who exactly it was, mouth hanging open when he realised who exactly she was.

“Is that… is that Agatha Harkness?” Peter said, pointing at the woman who had no name written under her photograph.

“You know her real name?” Darcy asked, looking at him with raised eyebrows as he nodded, wringing his hands around.

“Yeah, Wanda told me about her, she’s the witch from the Salem trials!”

“How is she significant to the plot, though?”

“She... she mentored Wanda, before she went to the dark side."

In the time he knew Wanda, she had been the sweetest person ever. She was like an older sister he didn’t know he needed, empathising with him on a cosmic level. They had come close before the events of Thanos happened. She was his person, and they shared a lot of secrets, this one being one of them.

“That’s one connection to her. What about the others? She keeps telling Vision that she doesn’t know what’s happening, but when the drone strike happened, she looked straight at the camera, like she knew,” Monica intervened.

“He tried to deploy a drone strike? In front of her children, after knowing very well that she saw her parents die in the Sokovian attack when she was ten? Is he fucking insane?!” Peter seethed, nearly crashing his fist on the table hard enough for cracks to appear on it.

“Peter, hey, calm down! You breaking things is not going to make the situation any better, okay? He already tried to chuck us out of this, you don’t go around breaking things now!” You said, holding him still as his body shook. You had never seen him this angry, and frankly, you would never want to see it again.

Peter was a sweet person, respecting people’s boundaries and always so understanding. He was the embodiment of good, even after living a fucked up life, he never projected his trauma on the other. He wore his emotions on his sleeves, and your heart clenched every single time, seeing him in pain.

"Listen, that's my sister in there, and she has no idea what she's doing. She needs our help and I'll do anything to help that woman and if you guys even think of hurting her I will make sure each of you regret it," Peter hissed, staring daggers at the silent team members of the room.

“Is there any way to reach there?” he asked, more softly than before. Darcy exchanged a look with Agent Woo and Monica, opening her mouth before knowing better and shutting it. “What?! Is there a way to communicate with her?”

“Follow us,” the brown woman said, breathing deeply as she looked at the other two silently.

"Where are we going?" Peter asked, fidgeting with your fingers. He hadn't noticed himself holding your hands, your lips twitching when you realised he had done that unconsciously.

“Trust me, I don’t know half the things these ladies do,” Woo whispered, and Peter nodded along seriously.

“Whoa, I feel like there’s a secret underground base here! Is there a secret underground base?”

“Well, it’s not underground, and not really a secret anymore,” Captain Rambeau said, unravelling a curtain, revealing a small space with a million monitors and a wooden desk littered with laptops and too many empty coffee cups.

“This is so cool,” You whispered, watching in awe as Dracy lit up the screens, revealing various codes and stuff you didn’t really understand. Peter was already invested, babbling about codes and addresses and hidden files within hidden files, things that flew over your head at the speed of Darcy’s fingers on the keypad.

Leaning on the table with one hand, Your eye caught a flat round metal looking thing on the ground, picking it up and tracing it with your fingers. “Is this… a bullet?!”

“Yeah, it was hit on that suit, which turns out to be 87% kevlar. That happened when Captain shot at it,” Jimmy answered, giving you a smile as you dropped your jaw.

“She went in wearing a bulletproof vest right? Wanda just… manifested a dress made of kevlar?” You wondered, your words interrupted by Peter’s yelp.

“So, remember how Director Douchebag ordered a drone strike on Wanda?” she said, contemplating her words next as everyone turned towards her. “Turns out he’s been planning something else.”

“What’s that?” Jimmy asked, pointing at the screen, which displayed two boxes full of what seemed like cells.

“That’s Monica’s blood work, he’s been tracking it the whole time. The first time you travelled to the hex? It changed your cellular structure on a molecular level, twice.” She said.

A sombre expression took over the older woman’s face, pursing her lips. “He thinks I’m gaining powers.” Monica nodded.

“I may not be a genetic engineer, but from what I’m seeing here, he’s most likely right,” Peter interrupted, a silence taking over everyone. “He’s keeping track of the enhanced, if I’m not wrong.”

Shaking his head, he clenched his eyes when he heard another voice. You watched him weirdly, reaching to ask him if he was okay, before retracting your hand.

“Chill out sis, it’s not like you can kill your dead husband twice.”

“You’re right. He’s been tracking everyone who’s enhanced, including Vision.” Dracy said, typing something on the screen to show you the map of Westview, pulsing red and blue dots appearing in your sight.

“Do you know what his endgame is?”

“Yeah. Rebooting Vision.”

Peter inhaled sharply, trying not to let his face show the anger inside him as he looked at Monica with wide eyes, both of them looking at each other dangerously, both of them realising same thing.

“Then, I’m going in. Someone needs to tell her,” he said, looking at the others for affirmation.

You took a step back, gulping in anticipation of his words. Reaching out with a hand, you stared at him, hoping he wouldn't lash out. "Peter, you have to know, the hex is a dangerous place. You won't even remember who you are so there’s no point in you going in. You won’t be able to convince her to magically leave her hostages, she’ll just see you as an outsider and throw you out-"

"Captain Rambeau went in and she was able to get out!" he argued.

"Peter, I was tossed out because she saw me as a threat. She might not do that to you but going in that thing is dangerous, especially with your mutations-"

"I don't give a fuck about my mutation! You of all people should know how it feels like to lose family, Monica," Peter said, looking at her. The fire in his eyes spoke volumes. No one dared to intervene.

"Peter, your mutation could potentially kill you. You know the risks of going past the barrier due to your enhancements. The radiations are altering DNA to a molecular level, your cells-”

"-are already metastasizing! My spider DNA is going to get me killed some day because my body won’t be able to handle it anymore, so I don't care, I'm going and that's final." He nodded, puffing his chest to show that he wasn't going to step down.

"Fine, I'll come with you then," You said, looking at him as you said that. A lump formed in your throat as you realised that he was so willing to sacrifice himself, and blood pumped in your veins as determination set in along with a rush of adrenaline.

"Do as you please." He shrugged, pursing his lips, but his eyes were a different story. You felt sick, insides tearing themselves up as you took a good look at him and his pallor, the artificial lights illuminating the scar tissues on his face. Ones that you knew were inflicted by his years of being the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man.

***

“Maximoff is never gonna negotiate with us,” Hayward said, circling the table as Monica looked at him with disbelief in her expression. “We’ll need all the guns we have here to stop her.”

“We can’t outgun her, but what we can do is try and talk her out of this. Antagonising her is only making things worse. If Wanda is the problem, she has to be our solution!” Monica argued, looking forward.

“She’s already killed thousands during the Sokovian attack. How do you guarantee that she won’t kill another person she finds threatening?!”

“She was guilty about it. It wasn’t her fault, do not bring that into this.”

“Yeah? Well, the guilt isn’t going to bring back the dead children is it?”

"The dead children aren't coming back, but those people trapped in Westview? They can, if you fucking let us!"

"Fine. But someone will be monitoring you."

Negotiations with your boss and commanding team of SWORD concerning the ship was a tough feat. you had finally convinced them to let you and Peter go across the border, but Darcy and Monica were to be on the radio in case everything went amiss.

Sitting in the (illegally acquired) van, you watched Jimmy, who was trying to teach Peter the card trick, invested in the trick yourself. Leaning forward to get a better view, you tried not to let the rush of blood in your cheeks get to you at the close proximity with Peter, heart pounding with every step you took closer to the hex.

“I did it! I finally did it, Y/N, look!” Peter said, showing you the trick, smiling at his childlike enthusiasm.

“That’s great! You should show it to Morgan, she’ll like it.”

“How do you know about Morgan?”

“I know everything.”

You may have been bluffing, but he seemed to have caught on your cue, the awkward tension reappearing as he shifted in his seat, twisting and turning and going back to the magic trick. You tried not to smile, but your mouth never did coordinate with your brain.

“We’re here,” the driver said, parking the van.

“Okay let’s go through this again: Captain Rambeau and Dr. Lewis will be on the radio while you try and get in, stay near a radio as much as you can so we can try and communicate, and do not try to meddle with Wanda,” Jimmy said, going over your checklist.

You were skeptical of the plan, thinking about how successful your mission was going to be, considering how powerful she had become in her own little sitcom. You had heard of her expanding the borders just after you had started driving near it.

“You ready?” Peter asked, taking your hand as you nodded, and wrapped your fingers around his knuckles, before taking a deep breath.

“I’m ready.” You nodded, looking over your shoulders to see the FBI agent giving you a thumbs up, muttering something into the comms. Looking back at Peter, you felt dizzy with the buzzing anxiety, the pull of the barrier strong.

Stepping close to it, you felt electricity buzz in your veins, shuddering at the chilling sensation and sudden exposure to stimuli, your gut twisting the more your hand went in the hexagonal anomaly. You swore you felt your physical being tear apart, your life flashing in front of you in a white hot light, your brain was practically mush with how much force you needed just to get in.

"I thought we would be able to get in easily!" Peter shouts, his screams echoing in your eardrums, mixed with your own screams.

"She's becoming more powerful the longer she stays inside, and so is the hex," You replied, gasping for a breath as you tried to move forward.

With a final scream, you closed your eyes at the static sound bombarded your ears, you couldn't fathom how loud it must be for Peter, sending a look towards him. His eyes were scrunched, hands curled around his head and ears to stop the sound. Before you could comment on his state, your own vision doubled, bright green and magenta lights appearing out of nowhere, the coiling of your gut intensifying, and before you knew it, the strong force pulled you inside, throwing you off on the hard concrete of the road, and everything went dark.

***

“I’m okay. I’m okay. Everything is alright,” Wanda said, repeating the phrase like a mantra as she sat on the couch.

She repeated the phrase like clockwork, just like being a mom to two half synthezoid pre-teens and the gatekeeper of Westview. Snapping out of her daze, she felt something in her brain stir, realising with a start that something had been messing with the barrier-- or, rather, someone.

Closing her eyes, she willed her powers, similar to the ones Tommy had, to look past the barrier, opening her eyes with a flash when she saw a familiar face.

“Peter,” she muttered, the brown eyed boy who she had come to think of as a brother materialising in front of her, dropping on the carpet with a thud as his unconscious form fell on top of Yours. Wanda remembered you from all the stories Peter had told her about.

Crouching down, she reached out to touch you both. Her eyes glowing red as she held a finger to your and his forehead, scrunching her eyelids as she navigated both of your heads.

A lonely young girl was seen sitting on a rock, the wind blowing wisps of her dark hair along with her dress. Suddenly, the noise of clucking of horseshoes could be heard, a woman coming into view as she got off her horse.

“Feeling lonely and afraid at the middle of the night when you’re a young and beautiful teenage girl?” the woman in the cowgirl shoes said, holding her hip as the girl nodded. “Well, don’t worry, every young girl must have a sword at her disposal!”

“A sword?” the young girl asked, tilting her head as she took the object in her hand.

“Yes, a s.w.o.r.d, my dear. Fear not, for the sword will protect you from all the hexes around you.”

The girl smiled, looking at the camera with the cowgirl’s hands on her shoulder. “A sword to protect the young!”

Buy now at your nearest convenience store, terms and conditions apply.

“What are you two doing here and not at school?” Wanda chortled, startling the two who were now very much conscious. The boy moved, fisting his eyes, and he curled his hands to stretch the kinks that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, the varsity jacket scrunching underneath his fists.

“Babe?” the boy groaned, messing up his hair, looking at the general direction of the girl.

Putting on a smile, Wanda folded her arms, biting her lips at how adorable the two of you were.

“Ben? Is that you?” the girl asked, looking at her disheveled frock with a confused expression, finally noticed the woman standing in front of her. “Oh my god, babe, I swear we were at the bleachers not long ago. Did you manifest teleportation powers now?”

“Miss Maximoff! You’re Billy and Tommy’s mom! Babe, we’re in Billy and Tommy’s house!” The guy, Ben said, his voice rising up an octave as he looked at his surroundings.

He couldn't remember much about the Maximoffs, except that his neighbours talk about the weird mom and dad almost everyday in the gossip sessions. Whatever, he wasn't interested in them.

"She turned them into teenagers."

"Well there goes our plan. Do we still have back up ready?"

“That’s right, kids. Now, what were you two naughty children doing out of school?” Wanda asked, helping the two kids get up as the boy blushed, stuttering an apology.

“We- we weren’t ditching, I swear, Miss Maximoff! We were just-”

"-Doing homework! Because… because Ben's a nerd and he doesn't like that he gets behind because of the baseball team!" the girl said, stuttering as Ben nodded along with her.

“Yeah! We weren't making out or anything! Even if we're totally dating."

Their relationship wasn't exactly your normal relationship. It was more of a… mutually beneficial relationship.

Well, so far they had the entire town fooled, having them all think that a guy such as Benjamin Fitzpatrick would ever date a girl like her, who liked her books more than her siblings.

"Hmm, well, thankfully, I'm a cool mom and I will not tell your parents about this… thing. Whatever it was. Anyone want cheesecake?" Wanda smiled, clapping her hands once as she looked at the two teenagers.

Ben's stomach growled at the thought of food. "You don't have to do it, Miss Maximoff, but I would love some," he said, sheepishly looking at the ground, and wincing at another growl.

Wanda chuckled, patting the boys back kindly. "Oh honey, it's alright. Come on, don't be shy, the both of you!" she said, looking over her shoulder and saying, "and it's just Wanda! Miss Maximoff makes me feel old, you know."

They followed her to the kitchen, taking in the interior of the house. Ben's eyes caught something from the corner, it was almost as if it was… flickering? Shaking his head, he dug his fingers in his eyes, wondering if he was still feeling the effects of the time he had hit his head during the baseball practice.

"You okay?" the girl asked, keeping a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"Yeah, probably the aftereffects of a concussion." He nodded, burrowing his brows in confusion.

"Hmm, should probably get that thick little noggin of yours checked by the nurse." She snickered, hitting his shoulders playfully. Her heart was beating fast, he noted, wondering how he could hear it so clearly. The thought that he would have to leave her after she gets a date for prom made him sad.

They may be faking their relationship, but he had caught on very fast and realised that he wanted it to be real. As real as the town of Westview.

Wait, what?

"You know we don't have to pretend anymore, right?" Ben said, looking at the girl as she came to a halt. Miss Maximoff was nowhere in sight, the house eerily silent with her heartbeat echoing in his ears.

"This is the best ship SWORD could ever make."

The awkward silence was interrupted by the opening of the front door, a loud jingle as Agnes came strutting in, a big smile on her face. It made Ben's neck sting weirdly, slapping his hand at the base to nullify the feeling.

"Hello, children! What are you doing, skipping school like the little troublemakers you are?" She grinned, pinching each of their cheeks as her voice took a baby-like tone to it. Ben took a step back, grimacing as she continued pinching his cheeks.

"Um, we weren't- we have no idea actually-"

"Agnes! Oh, what great timing! Were you here for Billy and Tommy?" Wanda came in, a plate full of cheesecake and crackers in her hand.

"Oh, Wanda, Wanda, Wanda! Your little troublemakers are already in my house, or did you forget?" She chuckled, the sound of her laughter taking a higher pitch.

Wanda furrowed her brows, opening her mouth to say something, before closing it, a grin taking over. "Right. Yeah, of course! They really love it there with you, huh?"

"That's right, everybody loves Auntie Agnes!"

Ben looked at his girlfriend again, feeling strangely out of place between the two women.

"Um, Miss Ma- Wanda? C-Can we go now? I feel like-"

"Oh, Ben, don't be ridiculous! Why don't you sit down and take a breather? You look pale, hon." Wanda smiled, setting down the plate and ushering the two kids on the table, both of whom looked at the table with hunger in their eyes. Well, it had been long since lunch break.

"Thank you for the cheesecake Mi- uh, Wanda, we appreciate it," the girl said, promptly digging in after the affirmation.

***

Vision knew something was wrong the moment Agnes showed signs of knowing what was going on. The first time it happened, he was sure his paranoid wife would do something, but she had continued to act as if nothing was wrong with Agnes' behaviour.

Walking down the road in his ridiculous costume, he nearly sighed in resignation, before he realised that he wasn't capable of such human actions.

One more thing that perplexed him to no end was his strangely human behaviour. It was as if someone was forcing him to act more human, some weird force that was so unlike Wanda's warm presence, something more foreign and way out of his realm (like the gum incident. He sure did remember Wanda chastising him for doing this atrocity, surely she couldn't have been the one controlling him? Right?).

His mechanical heart ached for his wife. She had gone through a lot, from what he had read from her thoughts; losing a brother (twice, if the absence of Pietro was anything but a confirmation), and then him (it didn't bother him much. He was a synthezoid, there was entirely a possibility that he could be revived).

He just really missed her, he realised. Their relationship had been strained ever since the boys were born. He didn't blame the drift on his boys, of course. He loved them to no end, would sacrifice himself for them, but he couldn't help but notice the change it brought in Wanda.

The arrival of Pietro 2.0 didn't help either.

His thoughts were interrupted as his feet halted their movements, and with a snap he realised that he had somehow made it to Ellis avenue, the border's static buzzing through his entire being.

"You look lost, buddy," a strange man said.

Looking at the man, Vision tilted his head, looking through the database of Westview to see that the man seemed to be nowhere in the records. How had he made it here?

"I- I'm sorry, who are you?" He asked, leaning against the car door to peer inside, the man sitting rigid. It was only then did he realise that the man's eyes seemed… glazed, almost like he wasn't aware. Looking back at the barrier, Vision gaped at the view in front of him.

The man's car was half inside and half outside the barrier, the slow moving particles seemed to be disintegrating the vehicle, watching in awe as sparks flew the closer the barrier came to the man.

"Listen, you have to get out of here before that thing destroys you." Vision tried shaking the man, but to no avail. His attempts were in vain as the man simply grunted. "Listen! Can you hear me? What's happening? Why is the barrier moving?"

He tried opening the door, but it was shut firmly. Groaning, he punched the door, nearly falling to catch the falling man, who was mumbling some incoherent mumbo jumbo.

"Wanda, what are you up to...?" Vision muttered to himself, realising with a start that the barrier was expanding and the man had come from outside the barrier.

Looking at the muttering man, he quickly moved them both away from the barrier, propping him up against the grass.

"I'm sorry," Vision said, his hands gliding yellow as he touched the man's forehead, his own circuits being bombarded with incoherent noises.

"Oh god! I'm sorry, please save me! Please, this hurts, this- you- you're the Vision!" the man screamed.

"Yes, I'm the Vision! Now, can you stay still? I'm trying to help you!"

"-Please! She's in my head!"

His hands lit up again, the yellow light smothering the man's forehead as he went still again, as Vision retracted his hands regretfully. Opting to leave the man there, he stood up again, startling once again that day when he heard a shrill cry, the body of… Geraldine? Appearing out of the barrier. Shaking his head, he was convinced that he was hallucinating, if that was even possible for a droid, and turned around to walk back home.

(Agatha gave a satisfied chuckle, purple sparks erupting from her fingers as she turned back to Wanda, pretending that that didn't just happen.)

***

"Do you think our school is a little… solitary?" Ben asked, inhaling a puff of smoke from the blunt in his hands. His girlfriend and him were sitting on the rooftop of Westview high, their feet swinging against the edge as she clutched at Pe- Ben for dear life.

Peter? Who was that?

"Did you see that?? Peter was right, that was Agatha Harkness and she's been the one manipulating the people, it never was Wanda! It was meant to be a plot twist, but I totally predicted it."

"Um…"

"What? I'm invested."

Peter?

Y/n? Can you hear me? Please say yes if you can hear me.

She noticed the static sound of the radio speaking to someone. The static noise increased, and Ben didn't seem to have noticed the small portable radio malfunctioning. Shrugging it off, she went back to passing the blunt from her boyfriend.

Boyfriend. The word ignited a flame in her chest. Ben, who she faked her dates with once upon a time, now was her actual, real boyfriend, who she was ditching homework to smoke a blunt with, uncaring of her nearing curfew. Her parents would have her head if she found out.

"Do you hear that?" She asked, exhaling the stale air from her lungs. She knew it was more of the deep breathing than the weed, but it made her feel serene.

"I've been hearing a lot of things lately." He croaked, clearing his throat, sniffing the air as he leaned back, his Adam's apple bobbing with every gulp. His glasses were sliding off his face. She reached to push them back up, smiling at the flush of his face.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, slipping her fingers through his, rubbing a hand on his back. His life had been difficult, she knew about him being an orphan, but she didn't know he was having a hard time with life at the very moment, her heart aching for the poor boy.

"I don't know, I keep hearing these voices in my head. Children screaming, people crying, and this… this buzz at my neck, I can't ignore it anymore! I feel like I'm going insane and I can't keep them quiet! I've tried, but it's like they're trying to communicate with me."

Her eyes softened, hands running through his thick, straight hair as he leaned his head on her shoulder. Suddenly, the height at which they were sitting on didn't matter, she had him in her arms.

"He broke the fourth wall. He's been hearing things, just like Billy."

Wiping away his tears, she kissed his forehead, rubbing her hands gently on his back.

"It's gonna be okay. You're okay, they'll go away soon." She reassured, folding her legs to get up, and pulling him up with her. "It's getting late, and mom will have my head if I'm later than curfew."

"You've broken curfew before." He chuckled, stepping closer to Her, his hands on her hips.

Moving forward, she enclosed her hands around his shoulders, intertwining her fingers at the nape of his neck. Standing on her highest tip toes, she crashed her lips into his, their bodies swaying with the cold wind.

"Awww, they're so cute! Exes to lovers, I like it."

"I agree. Didn't see the fake dating coming though."

"Right?! Wanda should start a production company."

"If Agnes lets these people go."

***

Meanwhile, Monica had managed to find an abandoned shack in the backyard of Wanda's neighbour's house, her body buzzing with a familiar tension.

Opening the shack, she saw the trails of purple, vein like thing running their tracks until they reached somewhere she couldn't see. She didn't notice another person creeping up on her, too busy looking at the trails.

"Snoopers gonna snoop," the voice said, making her jump out of her skin, and keeping a hand on her heaving chest to stop her from hyperventilating.

"Pietro?!" She startled, looking around to see if anyone had heard her. The neighbourhood was eerily silent, leaning against the wall, before deciding against it and squared her shoulders, looking at the man in front of her.

"Yeah, that's me. But who are you? And what are you doing in Margie's backyard?" he asked defensively. She would have found the expression comical if it wasn't for her racing heart and adrenaline filled brain.

"I could ask you the same thing," she said, folding her arms to show a defensive stance.

"I'm here because… I live here?" he muttered, borrowing his brows as his eyes glazed over again, "Yeah, wait, no... I live with my sister! Who lives two houses from here! What am I doing here?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

"God, this is so weird. First Wanda was being weird, now I am."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing."

***

Billy was afraid. He knew that he should be stronger and braver, if not for himself, then for Tommy. His momma always told him that the only thing to fear was fear itself, and he didn't know what that meant, but he knew that he had to be braver to get back to his mom and dad.

"Billy, I'm scared," Tommy whimpered. "I'm hearing voices again."

"It's gonna be okay, Mom and Dad will be here soon," he reassured, just as scared as his brother. They were only twelve minutes apart, but he still felt a responsibility for him.

Mom said that they both reminded of her own brother- Uncle Pietro.

Hearing the door open, he felt a chill crawl up his spine.

"She's here! Billy, she's here!"

"I know! I know! Shh!"

Her footsteps came closer, the cackling of her laughter making his heart pound. His brother buried himself in his shoulders, both of them huddled next to each other, as if the inevitable could be avoided.

"How are my best boys doing?" Agnes' shrill voice rang, making Billy breathe faster.

"We want Mommy," Tommy whimpered, sounding as small as Billy felt.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey, that's not happening anytime soon." She tsked, sounding as apologetic as the villains in the action movies his mom forbade him from watching.

"Why's that?" Billy asked, squaring his shoulders as much as he could.

"You didn't hear? Mommy's dead."

And his world crashed, his brain crowding with darkness.

A/N: Lemme know what you think! 😁😁

#wandavision #wandavision au #wandavision spoilers #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x stark!reader #peter x reader #dark!peter parker #wanda x vision #jimmy woo #darcy lewis #monica rambeau #spideygirl writes #queue tea

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