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#sorry i just want sam to suffer more
boykingofhellsam · 1 year
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So many told dean that pitting sams soul in would curse sam forever and that he woud be basically be dead that even DEATH warned him and yet.... sam comes back with truama and psychosis.
You telling me that he just got ptsd and psychosis (hallucination/delusions) and thats all? Yall had so much more you could do! Like sam having a speech disorder from not hesring english for so long that it takes him a while to process and form words, that he cant sense pain or that temperatures all feel the same. What about sam losing the ability to see colour or vison entirely since the cage is in a complete void of darkness that everything is always bright because he his pupils are used to being dilated to let in light.
What about sam having way to much knowledge qbout what his organs are doing since he has had them riped out or apart. What about Sam seeing reapers since his soul is bordering on death at every moment. What about Sam not being able to feel anything unless its pain. What about Sam find thing go by too fast because of the time speed on earth being so different from hell. What about Sam acting like Lucifer in moments of distress because Lucifer was always in control and so Sam copies him when trying to mimic authority.
What about Sam becoming mute because his voice is always so raw from screaming. What about Sam always having to sleep with a night light on to remind him hes not in the cage.
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vivelegalite · 4 months
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dear dead boy detective (especially paynland) enjoyers: have you yet heard of the biggest gift bestowed upon the fandom so far, aka jayden's charles playlist? the one he mentioned in interviews? well, he dropped it on twitter at 19th of may. and man, do i have stuff to say about it.
there's a lot of 80's bangers, for sure, great to get into the mood and character, but some of the choices...
i'm gonna focus on a few of my favourites, songs that made me go insane when i saw them. honorable mentions: - category 1 (so devoted the lines blur): ain't no mountain high enough by marvin gaye and tammi terrell, there is a light that never goes out by the smiths, inkpot gods by the amazing devil - category 2 (family life): family line and summer child by conan gray, seventeen going under by sam fender, matilda by harry styles, father by the front bottoms - category 3 (being queer in the 80s): smalltown boy by bronski beat, boys don't cry by the cure - category 4 (there's no heterosexual explanation for this one): good luck, babe! by chappel roan, yellow by coldplay, fight or flight by conan gray (is this about monty? the cat king? i need answers!), the prophecy by taylor swift, arms tonite by mother mother, sweet by cigarettes after sex, head over heels by tears for fears
this list is by no means complete or comprehensive!
and now, the songs that made me go the craziest: (they're predominantly in charles' pov as it's his playlist)
found heaven by conan gray
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the only reason this song made it into the list and not the honorable mentions instead of smalltown boy is that it makes almost the same point, just so much more explicitly. i don't think i have to say much about it, it's a story of a young person griping with their queerness, being forced to leave home, a common theme of the playlist. "you're in love, you found heaven" when he chose edwin over his own afterlife, heavily implied to be heaven, and built his heaven with him on the mortal plane? ouch! (and we see this same notion repeated in another bop from the playlist, heaven is a place on earth by belinda carlisle).
2. like real people do by hozier
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"i miss kissing" charles rowland, 202X romantic meaning aside, the verses show a sort of a common understanding the boys have around the manner of their deaths and their lives before it. we already know from the show they don't really talk about it, with edwin not knowing about the severity of the abuse charles suffered. it feels like one of them saying "let the past be past, we're together now, yeah?". but also, jayden: can there ever be a platonic explanation for this? ghosts can't touch, can't feel, so they wish they could just kiss like "real" (alive?) people do?
3. flaws by bastille
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not the most romantic song, but i absolutely love how well it fits their dynamic. despite his edwardian brand of repression, edwin truly is the one that's more open about his feelings (recognising of course that in this case, the bar is so low it's in hell. haha, get it). edwin has worn his flaws upon his sleeve, and charles has held them buried - eg. bottling up all of his anger and resentment towards his family and his own death. the song presents a very sweet outlook, in which their flaws are brought up to the surface (for example, charles' outburst against the night nurse in episode 4), but they learn to accept them as they are, an extension of themselves.
4. a pearl by mitski
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you know it's gonna get intense if there's a mitski song in the mix.
the song is about a person who finds love in their partner, someone who treats them way better than they've ever been treated - and yet they cannot bring themselves to reciprocate the affection ("it's not that i don't want you, sorry i can't take your touch") despite reciprocating the feelings themselves because of the trauma. charles is known to bottle things up ("you're growing tired of me and all the things i don't talk about"). the person in the song recognises the love the other person holds for them ("you love me so hard and i still can't sleep"), which reminds me of charles' response to edwin's confession. not a "no", but a "maybe, as time passes".
5. fair by the amazing devil
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this one made me genuinely gasp when i first delved into the lyrics. it's simply so sweet, such a genuine and domestic portrayal of love. at first i thought it was way too open about being a love song (normal text instead of the subtext i'd be used to) for jayden to choose it with edwin in mind, but... there's no one else it can really be about. it's far too domestic, too "established" to refer to crystal. refers to a relationship that's laster for a longer while.
the narrator in the first verse is a person deeply in love with the other person, someone who loves to make his lover laugh and simply drinks in their presence. the "he" in the song i believe is charles, while the "she" refers to edwin. edwin promises to fight off anyone - or any feelings pulling charles down (we can see this in the first episode: "you ever think... what if death did catch us? she'd force us to go to the afterlife and split up" "i will make sure this never happens."). charles feels left behind by the world (seeing as he clings to crystal at first, refering to her as "someone their age who's still alive") and believes edwin to be so much stronger than he's ever been. i'm not going to break down the song verse by verse, but if you read it yourself while subbing out "he" for charles and "she" for edwin you'll see just how sweet (and... strangely very in character?) the song is.
6. work song by hozier
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if the previous song made me gasp when i saw the lyrics, this one made me go "NO WAY" out loud when i saw the title. the first one verse is just pure toothrotting sweetness, but the chorus is what i want to draw attention to:
when my time comes around lay me gently in the cold, dark earth no grave can hold my body down i'll crawl home to her
HELLO? charles, who keeps escaping death and afterlife to be able to stay with edwin? charles, as he literally takes his last breath with edwin right there, choosing to be by his side rather than move on? charles, who keeps choosing him despite night nurse's promises and threats? charles, who literally crawled through hell for him?
verse 2, to me, can be interpreted as referring to when charles died. edwin found him at his worst, and he "woke" up with his presence comforting him. he was shivering due to hypothermia and his injuries. edwin didn't ask him about what happened or pushed him, he simply listened. the lines "i didn't care much how long i lived, but I swear, i thought i dreamed her" are pretty self explanatory.
in verse 3 we still see the same attitude of "damn the afterlife, at least we have each other" as charles portrays througout the series. they're free, and heaven and hell are simply words to him.
7. orpheus by vincent lima
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i literally have no words for this one. it fits too well. if you want commentary for this one, just... i don't know, rewatch the staircase scene.
8. francesca by hozier
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(cracks knuckles) this is the big one. the album francesca is from, unreal unearth, is based on dante alighieri's divine comedy, a fourteenth century poem about a man venturing into hell, purgatory and eventually heaven. the eponymous francesca is one francesca di rimini, a woman who was politically married off to a man older than her, called giovanni malatesta. francesca didn't love him, and eventually fell deep in love with giovanni's younger brother, paolo. the two carried on with the affair for years, before being murdered by giovanni upon his finding out. francesca and paolo are mentioned in canto v of the first book, inferno, as two souls damned in the second circle of hell, lust. their punishment is to be permanently locked in a hurricane, swept away by the winds the moment they manage to get close enough to touch one another.
as opposed to their portrayal in the poem, the song is from the perspective of paolo, explaining that no matter the punishment, he wouldn't change anything about his life because he got to know, and love, francesca.
the first verse brings to mind the scenes in hell, especially on the staircase ("do you think I'd give up? that this might've shook the love from me? or that I was on the brink? how could you think, darlin', i'd scare so easily?" as an echo of charles' "sorry. no version of this where i didn't come get you"). "my life was a storm since i was born, how could i fear any hurricane?" could relate to charles' tumultuous family life, an assurance that nothing he has to deal with while by edwin's side will faze him given the things he's lived through. no, despite everything he's suffered through, charles wouldn't do anything differently - because his (admittedly shitty) life led him to edwin ("i'd tell them, put me back in"). we already know charles would choose him over heaven, willingly sacrificing his own afterlife to stay with a boy he's known for hours, someone kind enough to keep him company as he drew his final breath. all of it - his father's abuse, his schoolmates' bigotry, the pain of his own death, as well as everything he's gone through since - he'd do it all again, for edwin.
"for all that was said of where we'd end up at the end of it" could be taken as an allusion to the fate the boys would meet at "at the end of it", when they're finally caught by death and separated, or as more of a general "if you sin, you will go to hell when you die" (up to you to decide what the sin itself would be - an interpretation that would work with other songs on the playlist is that one such sin would be same sex attraction). then their hearts ceased, they never knew "peace", nor did they want to find it in death. their deaths were too soon, them being ripped away from life, but even though it would break his heart: charles would ask to do it all again.
the outro, i think, beautifully pulls it all together: heaven is not fit to house a love like theirs.
to wrap it all up:
jayden, what were you cooking in there? what do you know??
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rockrosethistle · 9 months
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I'm thinking about the implications again.
The numbers that the hive mind performs aren't random. Both the lyrics and the choreography will often boil down to to one purpose: to cause pain. (Pokey is ruthless.)
Sometimes it's physical, and that's easy to spot. The cops spend half of their song just kicking and pushing people to the ground. Join Us And Die literally ends with Ted getting beat up.
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And when the choreography doesn't allow for it, the lyrics are specifically trying to elicit an emotional response. The hive uses Alice to torment Bill. He's watching someone he loves die in front of him. It does the same for Charlotte.
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Okay, the hive gets a kick out watching people suffer. That's not new information. But the implications...
Look at Inevitable. It's a pretty significant shift from the rest of the numbers. Whereas those seem tailored for pain and fear, Inevitable seems to be comforting? Just look.
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Paul walks out, and the first thing he does is hug Emma. Which doesn't seem significant at first, but think: Did Bill get that same courtesy?
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Alice's first line is meant to taunt Bill. Paul's is almost consolatory; " Emma / I'm sorry / you lost." I won't dissect this completely, the theory is that this first line is genuine. Paul is actually sorry that their plan failed.
And when you take a look at the choreography, it becomes clear that it's a lot kinder than the other songs.
We see Paul waltzing with Emma and kissing her hands. And even though he's not letting her get away, he's not trying to hurt her. He's not even trying to intimidate her. He's shown more than once bending down--getting on her level, like you would to a child--as opposed to towering over her.
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The lyrics aren't messing with her either. Whereas Sam is manipulative and Alice is spiteful, Paul's lyrics are reassuring.
"I'm still the man you trust," is a lot different than "Don't you twust me?" when you get right down to it. It carries with it a connotation of 'I'm okay, and you will be too.'
"What if I told you I made it?" actively contradicts the 'I killed your loved one' narrative that Alice used with Bill.
It's not like Emma is buying any of it. She's still terrified. Paul doesn't need to hurt her or taunt her in order to scare her, just singing was enough. But it's clear that he's not trying to.
The hive mind gets a kick out of watching people suffer. Emma is the leading lady. You'd think that she's the one who should have the most brutal song. But she just doesn't. It seems like her song is trying to be the kindest.
We know it's implied that once they get infected, people are still conscious inside their musical doppelgängers (source: the line "your own body is your front row seat" as well as Sam breaking through its control long enough to say "Charlotte" before falling back under).
I think Paul was conscious during Inevitable. I think he knew that they weren't escaping this. I think he knew he was eventually going to kill Emma, and there was nothing he could do about it. But I think he didn't want her to suffer.
Instead, I think he resolved to give her as kind a death as he could. He would lie. He'd tell her he was happy and that she was safe. He'd be as gentle as the hive mind allowed. She was running out of time, so he'd love her with every second they had left.
(but that's just a theory...a musical theory... and cut)
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buckyalpine · 1 year
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Fic idea - Bucky’s family & time travel
You know how I keep proposing ideas, then adding it to my wips and then I stare at it while it stares at me. Heres another. I'm so sorry. Swear this will end in fluff, you'll just suffer in between. So imagine the most angstiest angst where Bucky gets married and has a child with his sweetheart before he’s sent to war. He's loved her his whole life and now they have a little one together; nothing could be more perfect. He promises he'll be back safe and sound with a kiss to her forehead and plenty of kisses for his baby girl.
Until Hydra captures him and turns him into the Winter Soldier. His first mission is to eliminate any familial ties. He doesn't feel anything when he pulls the trigger. He's successful and carries out hundreds of others kills, each searing itself in some part of his brain but he's constantly wiped before he can piece anything together.
But then he's rescued and he has to pick up the broken fragments of his memories and its too much of a fog for him to understand. At the very least he has his best friend by his side again and he's slowly starting to remember.
His first question is about his sweet y/n and his little girl.
His happiness is short-lived when Steve doesn't say anything. Bucky doesn't understand why he avoids his gaze, why he suddenly looks so distraught. No amount of pleading or begging works, his best friend doesn't breathe a word, asking Bucky to please let things be.
To learn to live with the way things were.
He can't do that though. He needs answers. When the team is away on a mission, he find a way to get into his records that SHIELD kept on him, wondering if they ever had anything on file about his life before he was captured. Every single detail about who he was before the war to after is written with details and camera footage.
He doesn't move from where he's seated, a blank expression on his face while everyone returns. Steve approaches Bucky first, worried about why the soldier looked so pale as if he'd aged 10 years in the past 3 days.
"I killed them?" His broken whisper of a voice breaks Steve's heart when he sees the file Bucky was looking at, a picture of him, his little girl on his shoulders and wife all smiling at the camera. The sheet he's clutching onto has their names along with deceased written write across the sheet.
Bucky is inconsolable.
His dreams are no longer about others he has killed. He's flooded with memories of her; the soft ivory dress she wore on their wedding day, the baby pink lace she had on when he undressed her that same night, the scent of her perfume, the sound of her laugh, the kicks of their baby, the sound of her happy squeals when he blew raspberries onto her chubby cheeks.
Those happy memories are quickly replaced with her pleading for him to remember. To just remember at least once.
Jamie, it's me, please, m'your y/n, Bucky, don't-
D-daddy?
Baby, go to your room-Bucky no-
Mama!
Please, not Bella, James, you love her baby, you love us- please remember me-
I-I love you
The pain of Bucky's cries are too much for anyone to handle. They're a different type of sadness. So much so, even Tony's starting to worry when he doesn't see Bucky for days on end. He begs to be put back in cyro, to have his memories wiped, to have his brain fried, anything to forget. He doesn't care about the pain, he just wants it all to end.
Imagine theres a mission that involves time travel. Steve and Sam stand on the platform, ready to enter the portal, setting their timers for a specific date in the past. When Sam catches Steve adding another date without telling him, he quietly adds it on his suit as well, piecing what the Captain plans on doing.
The mission takes a little longer than anticipated. Steve is surprised when Sam is beside him when he travels back to the 40's, the both of them now with a new mission in mind, alternating the future be damned. If they had a chance to give Bucky the life he deserved again, they would do it. Bucky doesn't ask for much. In fact he never asked for anything. He deserved this.
Imagine the shock everyone gets when the portal opens up at the compound and there are now 4 people on the platform. Steve, Sam, a woman and a little girl no older than 2. She's dressed in a simple dotted dress, still wearing an apron around her waist while her baby stays clinging around her, tucking her face into her mommas neck.
Imagine the way Bucky would collapse with her when he sees his family again, crying endlessly being able to hold his wife and child, something he thought he'd lost forever. Everyone gives the little family some privacy while he hugs and kisses them, cuddling them to his chest, still right on the lab floor. Explanations for everything can wait, right now he can't believe he has his angels back.
Imagine the way they'd fall asleep that night, sleeping in bed for once, now that he's reunited with his y/n and his Bella.
imagine the endless love he'd make to her while Bella spends time with her God Fathers, aka all the Avenger men.
Imagine she's pregnant soon after and they can continue being a family in the present, doing all the things they always dreamed of.
Anyway, just a thought.
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flashypunches · 2 months
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( REUPLOAD I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT im so sorry )
You're someone who's held great resentment for your godfather.
For your first meeting, for his ego, for his murderous intent towards your father.
For his failure to provide comfort or understanding when your parents refused you as a son, when your friends have left you as a corpse.
You suffer through long years, sticking with him through thick and thin, because he’s the only one like you, the only other Death refused to take.
( The daughter he made, the cousin you mourned, Dani, is gone. She will not return to either of you. It is always his fault. )
Because he’s all you have left. The only one who wouldn't refuse you.
He moves you to a city that matches your dreary state. Vigilantes take residence, closing in on crime. Closing in on your godfather.
Vlad leaves. He doesn’t take you with him.
He leaves you his wealth, a place in a school that makes you miss home, and an order to never speak to the ones who made him run– the Waynes.
He doesn’t return. Never properly. You make due with phone calls and brief visits every now and then. You don’t mind, you preferred this more than his haphazard attempts at providing companionship when it was too late.
Your schoolmates does not like you. That is okay, even if it leaves you longing for friends.
( Sam and Tucker are in Amity and will stay there until they die. They would never come and visit a corpse like you. Not when you desecrate their friend's body, parading it around, like you're him. They know who you really are. They've always known, they just couldn't see sense before. )
But you find someone who could be one.
He is prickly, rude, disliked less, but disliked nonetheless. But he is the only other person who does not care about your worn out shoes, for your scars, your clammy skin, all the things that made your parents refuse you as a son, as sentient— or about you coming in the middle of the school year.
You care not about his attitude, desperation clawing at your mind for any form of socialization not from Vlad or who he calls company.
You make quick work of befriending him, a shared rivalry for an annoying schoolmate pulling you close together.
You learn his interests, his pets, his family. You know his name but do not ask for it. Willful ignorance could be considered bliss. Just for a moment.
He lets you stay at his house for a night, though his siblings push the matter more enthusiastically. You do not see his father.
( “He’s on a business trip.” Daniel blinks, looking up at his friend.
“Who?” he asks, despite knowing there’s only one person that Damian could be referring to.
Damian tsked automatically, “My father, you imbecile. He will return in two weeks notice.”
Daniel thinks of his godfather, of his various excuses over the years to many people, including him. But instead of telling Damian the likely truth, that his father won’t return, never like how his best friend wants him too, an “Okay” comes out in place of it.
Let him bask in ignorance, Daniel tells himself, Let your friend have this. )
His father comes back. You don’t call Vlad when he forgets you. For all he wanted you as a son, now he never tries to treat you as such.
You continue the cycle of avoiding an empty house, of sleep-overs, of waiting for something to happen.
And something does. Your godfather comes back. He lies to you that he won’t leave again. He says that he will stay longer, that the family who tried to run him out won’t succeed again.
You do not think of your best friend. Why would he even care?
Your godfather treats you like he had before, when you still had your friends, your home. Like you are a misbehaving child, and him, the tired parent.
( Shouts of an argument ring from an dead manor, before being shut out to the upstairs.
Daniel slammed the door, not caring if Vlad had heard it or not. Ancients, he'd forgotten how much of an utter fruit-loop Vlad was. He gritted his teeth, rubbing the bruise left on his wrist by the man.
Why'd he expect anything different? Vlad was just going to be his usual nutty self, and go back to treating him like he was still some misguided kid, that he would just come around to playing nice with Vlad.
The wood of the door was smooth, most likely sanded down from any splinters by the past families who lived here. Daniel moved his fingers along the grooves, faintly remembering how he had done this before, when he was better. He bit his tongue, ignoring the bitter taste of ectoplasm it brought forth.
He hadn't thought of who he was before since he'd ran. He hadn't been this angry at Vlad since he ran. He hadn't felt so like himself after he ran.
Daniel would be lying if that thought didn't make him feel just a little bit better.
He let his head fall into his knees, back leaning against the wooden door, limbs sagging. He did not cry, because the Danny from the empty home did not do that. )
It irks you, but not like before. Maybe you were doing something right if he’s treating you like this now, treating you normally. Maybe you’re back to who you were before, before the rejection scarred you.
Damian notices the change in your personality, as you notice his change in costume. He is on the rooftops, in the streets, cloaked in muted colors, not unlike your own old costume, and his family knows your godfather is back.
When you come back to school after a week of Vlad trying to bond with you without success, Damian doesn’t say a word about your godfather.
You don’t either. What even is there to say?
“Oh, I know that you are investigating my godfather, and that you’re a vigilante, surprise!”
You would have been killed ages ago if that was your response.
Your friend does not invite you over anymore. You know why, understand why but it still stabs your core, in the way a butter knife does to wood. Dents it but does not cut.
You repeat the loop of boring conversation, of stilted companionship. You grow tired of it, as you always do.
Vlad's signature is easy to forge. You get to skip your classes under the guise of it being a family emergency.
( Damian is near the gate when he gets off the bus. Daniel's ratty sneakers are hitting the ground, as he walks over to him.
The weight of his backpack feels heavy, the evidence that Daniel had stuffed inside not helping his back. Damian twirls around at his steps, a scowl already on his lips.
Daniel smiles back, readjusts the straps on his shoulders. He whispers to Damian, uncaring of the fight currently breaking out in the front, the fight that Damian is watching, "I'm getting out of school today, wanna come with?"
His friend tears his eyes away from the brawl, looking intrigued at Daniel's offer.
Damian considers the chance. The thought of having to sit through another day of school with only Jon for mild company sickens him.
"I suppose I can, though if this is a trap Masters, then let it be known that—"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it, you in still?" Daniel flashes his (only) friend a cheesy grin, ignoring Damian's eye-roll at his theatrics.
"..Yes."
-
The route to the local park is quick, though slowed by the need to be away from the public's eyes, lest they be caught right away in their venture.
Daniel gasps in a breath, ancients, did he need to jog way more. Damian easily strides beside him, the only sign that he was showing off being the smug gleam in his green eyes. Bastard.
The papers, the records, the flash-drive, all weigh down his back. Vlad has definitely noticed them missing, and he most definitely knows who took them.
But Daniel didn't care, not right now, because right now, he was spending time with his bestest friend in the whole wide world, and he'll deal with Vlad later. )
You drag Damian over to a secluded bench, taking no mind to the mutations Poison Ivy has given the plants near. The backpack is emptied, and you guide your only friend to the path that leads to Vlad's destruction.
The dread fades away, the high of adrenaline taking its place, at the crimes left behind in pieces, put back together in a backpack, and let loose into the hands of your only friend.
It feels good, like something’s been taken off your shoulders. You know that Vlad has anticipated you telling someone about what he’s done. He’s still not leaving.
Your high is running down, as you start to beg Damian not to arrest him, lying to your only friend that Vlad is a better man, and doesn't deserve to rot in a cell. You know that when you take a separate route to your homes, that he’ll tell anyway.
You can’t bring yourself to care. Vlad’ll just weasel out of it, as he always does.
He knows what you did, doesn’t bring it up, with the only sign being a watchful eye whenever you’re back in his grasp.
You get invited to a gala by your friend. You accept, uncaring of Vlad's reaction.
Your friend gets held ransom. No one’s worried, no one feels anything but annoyance. You stay away, not wanting to feel your core straining to help, to protect.
The Bats swoop in to help. You ignore the envy at their luck at having a team of other heroes to depend on.
( Your friend ) The Waynes send people after your godfather. He tries to bribe his way out of the charges, out of the jail cell that cannot hold him. They leave with him in tow.
You start staying overnight at your friend’s house even more. Damian doesn’t say a word about it.
His father does. His siblings do.
They talk about adopting you, they fight about Vlad, about what they are meant to do with your godfather, and what to do with poor old Danny. You don’t listen in much. They remind you of your parents, just a little bit. It hurts.
Vlad is let go. False charges, apparently. You know he just bribed the judge and juries.
He wants to talk to you, intent on having a conversation that lasts more than five minutes without shouting and tears ending it.
I'm sorry for not being there, please, give me forgiveness, are the only things you remember from the conversation. You do not give him what he wants, but the conversation doesn't end in slammed doors and withheld tears.
You sleep under his roof for the first time in weeks, the most civil conversation you’ve ever been with him looping in your mind. You even wonder if he’ll let you go to your friend’s birthday party.
You don’t sleep at your friend’s house as much. There’s not much need to anymore.
You wake up one night, to hear the sounds of ectoblasts and footsteps. They are on the roof, and you know what they’re here for.
You go ghost, going up the roof, watching invisibly as Plasmius shoots at the vigilantes who yell about something. You stay like that for a moment. You almost decide to let him go.
He's the only one you have left, to leave him, to abandon him, is to leave the last person in your corner. That thought is the only reason why you lift your thermos up, capturing Vlad in one fell swoop, before he leaves too.
The vigilantes are not pleased, as the Bat barks out orders to find you. You can imagine Vlad is the same, fuming at your disrespect inside the can.
With Vlad in your thermos, the Bats on your tail, there is no hope in your mind of getting out of Gotham with everything you need.
Oh Danny, what are you going to do?
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deathmetalangel · 3 months
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HARDLY SEEMS FAIR
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robby keene x fem! reader
warnings: "casual" relationship", swearing, arguments, crying, heavily ldr coded, implied hookups, slut shaming, cheating, angsty
“in what world is that fair robby?"
oke so this is kinda a retconnned chapter from my wattpad book that i'm just extending and making more ambigious instead of clearly x oc. i hope y'all like it tho. i am sorry i have been gone for so long :(
Y/n plays with the ends of Robby's hair. He was laying with his head in her lap while they just relaxed in her room. It was calm, domestic. A small and very rare moment for just the two of them. No outside force would intrude and break their safe haven. There was no what if's that lingered in the air. Nor past resentments that hung over them like an ominous cloud determined to damper their moods. 
It was just Y/n and Robby. And that's all they'll ever be. No labels. She figured that much after the last time she'd brought it up. But she's become so full of him she can't even bring herself to care. She'd rather have what they have now, whatever it may be with him. Rather than risking losing him, and the routine she's started to build around him. 
She hums softly. Her mind far off. "Y/n?" She hymns in acknowledgement without turning her head. "Something happened this weekend."
He was lying. This had been going on for weeks. He had been having doubts for weeks. He'd been seeing her for weeks. "What happened? Another karate fight?" She wasn't the girl who got heartbroken. She was never the second choice. She got what she wanted. And she wanted him, however she could have him.
"I kissed Sam Larusso."
Y/n freezes. Her body betraying her as she tenses up. She has no right, she knows that. They were 'casual'. Just her and Robby. Non-commital.
"I mean big deal right? We were drunk anyways. Just felt bad not telling you. I know were not dating so it's really not your business, but don't worry about it. I mean we've fucked so often what does a kiss even mean?"
A kiss. To her it meant everything. An act of intimacy that they rarley ever shared. So innocent, so pure.
"Get out of my room Robby." Y/n mumbles, her voice above a whisper. The teen sits up from her lap and looks at her incredalously. He was only telling her to keep her in the loop. She didnt have the right to be mad. So why was she making a big deal about this?
"What?"
"You heard me. Get the fuck out of my room Keene."
He furrows his brows in a toxic coctail of anger and confusion. "Why? You can't get pissed at me for this Y/n. We aren't fucking dating. Don't get all aggro on me like you're some psycho girlfriend when you're a friend with benefits at best."
Y/n stands up and pushes the boy out of her room. "Get the fuck out of here Robby! If it didn't mean anything why don't you go fuck her then? Go whine about your mommy issues and daddy issues to her and leave me the hell alone."
"You have some nerve you know that right? Don't act all high and mighty now. You're a whore. Why the hell would I ever actually take you seriously when I can get everything I want without the label or work. You're easy, I could never do that shit with Sam."
Her breath was stuck in her throat as the boy she truly thought cared began to berate her as if she was a random person on the street. The boy she suffered for. The boy that was really never her's to keep. Y/n forces herself to wipe her anrgy tears and push Robby once again.
Y/n's hands were shaky, she desprately wanted to cry. To scream. To give in and give him the satisfaction of getting to her. "Oh so you can come over whenever you want, make me listen to your shitty life, and basically force yourself into my own life, but all that means nothing right? Well guess what Kenne. You kissed her, and she still doesn't want you!" She presses her finger into his chest while her voice level rises. "That same girl is still with Miguel. So just because you wanna jump ship and 'upgrade' doesn't mean she wants anything to do with you. Face it babe, you're just white trash."
"Shut the fuck up Y/n." Robby practically spits back.
"Oh, so you can disrespect me and belittle me in my own fucking room, but when its you its a problem? Grow up Robby. You're a man baby and a hypocrite. In what world is that fair Robby? Maybe in your little made up fantasy where Sam picks you and you leave me for dead. So go stay there. Cause you're sure as hell not welcome here."
Y/n throws everything he's given her at him. Every last peice a memory they shared together. Posters, drawings, braclets, anything that adorned her room. All of it thrown to him and crashing down like victims of a violent storm. Tears streamed down her face as he backed up to her door.
She opens the door for him and grabs his sweater and keys before shoving it in his chest. The boy watches her dumbfounded.
"Stay away from me Robby. Go back to some other slut that can put up with your baggage and shitty attitude for one night stand status. Because I'm done."
He looks at her, but there wasn't the girl he knew looking back at him. Not with how she glared, not with how she stood, and not with how she felt. Her eyes, the e/c irises reflected love, now they were dark. Harbors for her contempt. The grimace on her face was unforgettable. Especially as the last thing he seen before she slammed her door on his face.
Robby swallows the spit in his mouth, a hard lump of guilt not wanting to go down. He didn't think any of this would happen. He wanted her to care, but he didn't want to fight. His temper, his father's god forsaken temper, and his own damned ego.
He wanted what he had with her, with Sam. The girl next door with a rich family and big house. Like something out of a book. Not the girl that did whatever he said for the sake of making him happy. He really did want to just abandon her, didn't he? After everything.
Choking back his frustrations the boy marches down her stairs and lets himself out. He liked what he had with her, but he wouldn't fight for her. Guys only did that for the girl they want.
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morganwrites12672 · 2 months
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You Don't Have to Be Okay
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Sam Winchester x Reader
Summary: Sam has trouble coping with his nightmares. She helps him.
Rating: PG-13
A/N: This made me cry while writing. Enjoy!
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It was gradual.
She noticed how tired Sam was all of the time. She blamed it on the usual stress of hunting. After a few months she begins to notice how it's every single time she sees him. It's almost like he never has the chance to sleep.
She mentions it to Dean, who tells her that Sam's handling things just fine. She doesn't agree.
During a hunt that Sam was doing with her, she noticed the nightmares. She would ask him about it the next day, or offer to grab coffee whenever he woke up in a cold sweat. The results were the same every single time. He would brush off her concern, just like Dean had.
She was a light sleeper, an occupational hazard. It was the last night at the piece of shit hotel with Sam. She awoke to the sound of mumbling and someone thrashing around. Her hand went to the hilt of the knife hidden between the bed and the dresser. Once her weapon was safely in her hands she flicked on the lamp.
Her eyes scanned the room. It had just been Sam. She sighed, dropping the knife on the little dresser. She stood and sat on the edge of Sam's bed. She didn't want to wake him but the pained mumbles slipping past his lips, and his horrified expression made her.
She was careful, knowing he would be frightened and disoriented whenever he woke up. She shook his shoulders, making sure to be ready for whenever he would wake up. He sat up, looking like he had seen a ghost. She gently grabbed his wrists whenever his fists went flying.
He blinked a few times, realizing where he was. And who he had almost punched.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Shit," He quickly apologized. His expression still held the same horrified look. It broke her heart to see him like this.
She gave him a soft smile and let go of his wrists. He ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to fix all of the pieces sticking in every direction. She was patient, letting him wake up a bit more. She wouldn't start prying whenever he was this disoriented.
"It's okay," She said, placing a hand on his knee.
"No, it's not!" Sam replied, visibly distraught. He could have punched her. All for trying to help him.
"Is it about Jess?" She blurted. She wanted to help. Maybe if he talked about it, maybe she could help him. Seeing him suffer like this was painful. It hurt seeing such a close friend in pain.
Her father was a hunter too. She had grown up around the Winchester boys. She had always been good friends with both of, especially Sam. The two were close, well, as close as they could be with the lifestyle they led.
". . . Yeah, it is," Sam replied softly, looking down at his hands. He could not bring himself to meet her gaze. Not with the way he felt tears stinging his eyes. He didn't want her to see him like this.
"I'm here, and I'll listen. I'll do whatever you need me to do," She said.
Sam sniffled. He finally moved his gaze from his hands and looked at her as a tear finally spilled down his cheek. He didn't understand why she cared so much. Sure, they were friends. He didn't feel like he deserved this though.
"You can't bring her back. You can't stop her from getting burned on the god-damn ceiling just because I left her."
His words made her do a double take. She had known that his girlfriend's death had been horrific, and had involved a fire. She hadn't realized just how truly horrible it had been.
"No, I can't. But, I can help you," She said softly, brushing a tear off his cheek.
She wrapped her arms around him. He shuddered under her touch. He was too exhausted, in more than one way. He couldn't resist the comfort of her arms. He buried his head in her neck and let the tears fall.
She might not be able to save Jess from the horrible fate she had met, but she could help Sam. The poor boy needed it. The nightmares might only be about Jess, and that horrible night, but the scars hunting left on him went deeper than his skin. He felt them branded into his soul. Horrible memories waiting to punish him again.
He was more sensitive than Dean and his father. He never truly got over those things. He thought about them all of the time. It was like he couldn't escape. Walking down the street he would see someone who reminded him of a person he couldn't save. It was always something.
Maybe she really could help.
He clung to her even tighter, grateful for her silent comfort. Once the tears dried up, and he felt like he would never be able to cry again, he pulled away. He awkwardly rubbed at his tear stained cheeks.
"Thank you," He said softly, hating how weak his voice sounded.
"You don't need to thank me."
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A/N: Thank you for much for reading! My requests are currently open. Please leave a comment and reblog!
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scoonsalicious · 6 months
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Unwanted: Chapter 13, Uncomfortable - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, manipulation, broken promises, final straws.
Word Count: 407
Previously On...: Sam reveals his suspicious that Rhodey's injury might not have been the result of bad intel; Bucky promises to take you Upstate to make up for the celebratory dinner that you feel Carthage ruined. But what are his promises really worth anymore.
A/N: I am sorry for this entire chapter.
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @jupiter-107 @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @sashaisready @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @doublejeon @pattiemac1
Unfortunately, the weekend away didn’t materialize. Bucky got a call in the early hours of the morning— Jade was in the med bay with a panic attack and was asking for him. 
“Bucky,” you begged, literally begged. “Please, don’t go.”
He sighed as he pulled on a pair of sweats. “I’ve got to, baby. She’s got no one else, and she feels like the whole Tower’s against her right now.” Well, that was because the whole Tower was against her, and if Sam was correct in his theory, rightly so. What did he expect?
“If you go,” you said, sitting up and holding the sheets to your bare chest, “I bet you every dollar in my swear jar that she’s just fine when you get there, but the second you try to leave, the ‘panic attack’ will start right up again.” Bucky frowned at you as he pulled a tee shirt over his head.
“Pocket,” he began, but you started talking over him.
“We’re supposed to leave in a few hours. I’m telling you right now that she’s going to suck up your entire day, and this make up celebration you promised me, to make up for her ruining my celebration dinner, mind you, isn’t going to happen.”
“I just can’t, in good conscience, leave her to suffer by herself, Pocket,” he said, and you could see the struggle on his face, hear the conflict in his voice. “You asked me to think of Steve in situations like this, and I’d want you to be there for him if he really needed you.”
“But she doesn’t need you, Bucky,” you said, voice now raised. “It’s a manipulation tactic, and you’re falling for it!”
“Forgive me for wanting to believe people are better than that.” Bucky reached the door, twisting the handle open. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, and we’ll head Upstate. I promise.”
“Every time you walk out that door for her,” you said, your voice sad, “you’re increasing the chances that one day, it’ll be locked to you when you come back.”
“Are you… threatening to break up with me for offering support to a friend?” he asked warily.
“No, Bucky,” you said as you rolled over, turning away from him. “I’m warning you of what’s going to happen if you keep putting her first.”
You heard him sigh, and the door closed. You didn’t need to turn around to know that he’d left.
<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->
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wolfjackle-creates · 5 months
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Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 5
So it's been about 3 weeks since my promised update. Oops. Main issue was breaking my first bone as I'm sure most of you saw. On my right wrist, of course. And being right handed, meant I could barely type for that first week.
But also this is a transition section of the story. And I was struggling with how to best write said transition. I am finally happy with it, though. To make up for being so late, this is a long one! Hope you enjoy. The total word count for this arc is now up to 9.6k. Do with that as you will.
Story Summary: Jack and Maddie install a new ghost shield on the house which activates the moment Danny tries to step into his home. His secret is out and his parents are determined to excise the ghost from their son.
Luckily Danny isn't alone. The Young Justice, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz aren't going to leave him to suffer.
Arc 1: AO3
Arc 2: AO3; Tumblr - First, Last
Arc 3: First, Previous
Word Count: 3.6k (Told you it was a long one!)
-----
Pain was a constant through the rest of that never-ending drive. Danny would wake screaming from the nightmares only to continue screaming from the pain.
Tim was there every time. His words were soft and soothing, even when Danny couldn’t make out their meaning between the throbbing of his human chest and aching core. Any time he woke, Tim did his best to force ectoplasm and liquid foods down his throat. If Danny couldn’t manage even that much, he was given more of Frostbite’s ice chips.
When they finally, finally stopped for the last time, Danny cried in relief. Kon carried him out of the van, a blanket under him as a makeshift stretcher. TTK meant that he was held perfectly flat even though Kon was only holding one end.
Tim’s worried face peered down at him. “Kon’s going to fly you up, okay? I’ll let you in through the window. I’ve disabled all cameras, so no one will see you.”
Danny think he nodded. He wanted to. He must’ve done something because Tim brushed his fingers across Danny’s forehead, nodded, and disappeared from view. Then Danny was leaving the van. For the first time in Clockwork only knew how long. It was daytime, but the sky was overcast and gray.
When Kon flew with him, it wasn’t the weightlessness of his own flight. Instead, he felt like they were fighting gravity. He hated it.
But it was only the matter of a few moments before they approached an open window and Kon carried him in. He was in too much pain to take in most of the room, but he did see a TV bigger than any he’d seen outside of Sam’s home theater.
Kon didn’t stop, and he was carried into another room—a bedroom As they approached the bed, the sheets folded back on their own. Kon set him down as gently as possible, but pain shot up from his chest at even the slight change of position.
He stopped breathing, even the movements of his lungs were too much. Instead he just let the pain wash over him. Wave after wave of it. Vaguely, he was aware of someone grabbing his hand, of voices above him.
Gloved hands pressed something cold to his lips and Danny gratefully took the ice and the numbing coolness it promised. Not enough for full relief, nothing could give that right now. But by the time it was gone, he could at least think through the pain.
This time when he opened his eyes, he saw Tim’s worried face, Kon standing behind him.
“Back with us?” asked Tim.
Danny grimaced and nodded. He tried a shallow breath. It hurt, but he could somewhat function through it. “Sorry.”
Tim rolled his eyes. “I don’t want to hear apologies from you for at least a month. This isn’t your fault.”
“Sorry,” Danny repeated.
Tim just huffed. “How’s the bed? Do you need anything? Extra pillows?”
Danny bit his lip and let himself feel. The bed was soft. As far from the feel of the exam table as it was possible to be. It was also leagues better than the camping mattress he’d been using in the van. Honestly, it was probably better than his mattress back home. And the pillow was the perfect height for lying on his back. “It’s good.”
The look Tim gave him made Danny think he wasn’t believed, but after a moment Tim just nodded. “If you’re sure. Now, Kon and I are going to have to change your bandages and reapply the necessary creams and poultices. After, I want you to try and eat a little more.”
Danny groaned, already dreading the procedure. But it had to be done. He ignored the tears he couldn’t stop and met Tim’s eyes. “Just do it.”
Kon grimaced. “I’ll make it quick.”
Danny tried to smile back but he knew he failed when neither Kon nor Tim looked any less concerned. “I know. Thanks.”
And it was true. Kon’s TTK made the process so much easier that it would have been otherwise. However, there was no way to make it entirely painless. Especially when removing the final layer. Danny couldn’t keep from crying out as the gauze stuck to his wounds. Finally, his chest was bared to the world. Danny trembled with the pain of it before gathering his courage and looking down.
This was his first time seeing his chest since he’d been pulled out of the lab. The incisions were inflamed and leaking, though they were already scabbing over. Green ectoplasm and red blood mingled in the secretions.
Tim and Kon didn’t wait for him to catalog every mark, however. They quickly passed jars of Frostbite’s concoctions to each other and set to work covering every area of his chest. Cold spread in the wake of their ministrations and Danny nearly wept in relief.
“This is already looking better, Danny,” said Tim.
Danny scoffed, then winced as it pulled at the injuries. He clenched his eyes shut as he reminded his body he didn’t need to breathe.
“He’s right,” said Kon. “I don’t think even I’d be healing this quickly from injuries like yours.”
Danny didn’t say anything as they continued to work. When they were done with the medications, Kon reapplied the bandages. Tim gave him another piece of ice which Danny took with relief.
Danny mumbled a thanks around the ice.
“Anytime,” said Kon. “Mind if I take a picture of you so everyone can see you’re safe in Gotham now? Sam’s been texting me non-stop asking for updates.”
Sam’s concern is what finally allowed Danny to smile for the first time since he’d returned home and his parents had learned his secret. “Pull up the sheet first. And just to her and Tuck and Jazz, please. I don’t want your entire team to see me like this.”
“’Course,” agreed Kon. Without Kon moving at all, the sheet rose up out of the blankets at the base of the bed and covered him up to his neck. Kon then took out his phone and snapped a photo before tapping at the screen.
Immediately it started ringing in his hands.
“Are you up for talking to them?” asked Tim.
Danny shook his head. “Want to, can’t.”
Kon waved him off. “I’ll tell them what’s up. Eat something and get some sleep.” Kon turned away. As he left the room, Danny hear him answer the phone with a, “Hey, babe,” before he shut the door, muffling all noise.
“Yogurt, applesauce, or pudding?” asked Tim once they were alone.
“Do I have to?”
“Yes. And another vial of ectoplasm.”
Danny sighed and asked for the applesauce. He only managed a few bites alternated with sips of ectoplasm before darkness pulled him under once more.
---
A throbbing pain slowly dragged him out of the blackness. He tried to cling to unconsciousness, but the throbbing was inescapable. With a quiet moan, he blinked awake in a dark room. For once, he was able to think past the pain. It was a constant, throbbing presence, but not as all consuming as it had been.
The mattress he was lying on was soft. So, so different to the hard table that had been his bed for those long hours in the lab. He twisted his head and rotated his jaw, relieved when the action wasn’t hindered by harsh restraints.
He was in Gotham, out of their reach. Tim was here and he was safe.
He was safe from his parents. His parents had— had— Danny’s breath caught and he couldn’t finish the thought. He pulled in a gasping breath. The ball in the back of his throat made it so hard to breathe.
He’d just… never thought they’d actually do it. He’d been so sure that once they realized who he was, they’d hug him and continue to love him. He couldn’t hold back the sob, loud in the silent room. His eyes burned and he didn’t even try to stop the tears.
Next to him, on the floor, blankets rustled and Danny tensed.
“Danny?” asked a sleepy voice from the floor. Tim was here?
“Sorry,” choked out Danny through ragged breaths. He was safe. His parents hated him. Nothing would ever be the same again.
“Don’t be.” The mattress dipped next to him as Tim sat down. “It’d be weird if you didn’t have a few breakdowns.”
“What’s going to happen to them?” Danny tried to wrap his arms around himself, but cried out at even the light pressure on his chest.
Tim pushed aside the thin sheet he’d been covered in and grabbed one of his hands. Danny clung to him until the sharp pain faded. And when it did, his breathing was more normal. His core still ached at the thought of his parents, but the physical pain had helped chase away the panic attack. At least for now.
“What’s going to happen to them?” he asked again; this time his voice was more stable.
“They’ve been picked up by the Justice League. Tucker is helping with getting all their files transferred to document their history. Jazz and Sam have been giving reports on their behavior, lab and home safety measures, and their actions. Others have begun questioning the general public on Amity. There’s currently a few magic users there trying to determine if they can shut down the portal.”
Something in Danny screamed out at the idea of the portal being gone and he tensed. “No! They can’t shut it down! Please, you can’t. It’s— I— you can’t.”
“What? What are you talking about? We have to at least look for a way to shut it down!”
He was crying. Why was he crying. “You can’t,” Danny repeated. “If it’s gone…” he trailed off. Why did he feel so strongly about this? The portal had done nothing but cause him problems since it had turned on. “I died there. I died for it,” he whispered. Something in him knew it was important. His ghost half refused to accept that the portal could just disappear. “If it’s gone, if it can just be turned off, what was it all for?”
And even that wasn’t the full story. The portal was his parents’ life work. It was the thing they spent time working on. It was what stole them away from Danny and Jazz. They missed Jazz’s recitals to work on it. They missed Danny’s science fairs. Every forgotten dinner or event could be tied back to that portal. And if it was gone, what was the point of it all?
Tim sighed and squeezed his hand. “We can’t just leave it open, Danny. It’s not safe.”
“I can design a door. A better one. One that actually works. Just… Leave it. Please. I can make it safe.”
Tim bit his lip and stared at Danny for a minute. “I’ll let them know it’s an option. I don’t know if they’ll go for it. Constantine is not happy with it existing. But I’ll see what I can do.”
Danny’s shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank you.”
Tim gave a half smile. “What are friends for? Now, think you’re up for something to eat? What do you want?”
Danny groaned. “Don’t wanna.”
Tim ruffled his hair. “Sorry, Polaris. Non-negotiable.”
“Chocolate pudding?” asked Danny.
“Sure. We can—”
Before Tim finished, a knock sounded on the door. “Someone ask for chocolate pudding?” called out Kon.
Tim laughed. “Come on in!” Without delay, the door opened and Kon walked in. It shut on its own behind him.
Even Danny couldn’t hold back the smile. He really had some great friends. “Spying on me, are you?” he asked.
“Not my fault you were talking so loud. Woke me up and everything!”
Danny, very maturely, stuck out his tongue. The grief he felt over his parents was hiding, ready to rear up again at any minute, but for now he had two friends with him. He would focus on that.
For the first time, Danny ate the entire pudding container and drank an entire vial of ectoplasm and wasn’t ready to pass out when he was done.
“Can we put on a movie or something? I don’t want to sit in the dark and quiet right now,” said Danny.
“’Course, Polaris,” said Tim. “What do you want to watch?”
“Kon, where’d we leave off in your movie list?” asked Danny.
But Kon held up his hands and shook his head. “I’m definitely going to fall asleep halfway through if we’re watching a movie. Pick whatever you want and don’t bring me into it.”
Danny pouted at him, but didn’t push. Kon hadn’t spent the last however many days sleeping. So he squeezed Tim’s hand and asked, “Then how about we put on some Star Trek? Short episodes and if we fall asleep, we’ve already seen them.”
Tim’s teeth were bright in the dark as he grinned. “I can definitely arrange that. You just lie there and keep looking pretty and I’ll pull it up. TOS or TNG?”
“What the hell does that mean?” asked Kon.
Both Danny and Tim ignored him. “I’m far from pretty,” retorted Danny. At Tim’s look, he rolled his eyes and said, “TOS.”
“Coming right up!”
Mounted to the wall facing the foot of the bed was a TV, smaller than the one in the living room, but still bigger than the one he had in his living room back home. Within minutes the opening, “Space, the final frontier,” rang through the room.
“Sorry, bit loud,” said Tim before adjusting it down a touch.
Danny didn’t bother replying as the episode started. Then Tim handed over a water bottle and settled back on the floor.
“What are you doing down there?” asked Danny.
“Getting comfortable? Where else would I go?”
Danny rolled his eyes, not that anyone could see. “This bed is huge. Sit next to me.”
“Won’t that jostle you?”
“Kon, move me over closer to the edge. Then you and Tim can join me.”
Kon laughed. “I think I’m going to go back to bed. I’m a morning person, unlike you two. But sure, I’ll move you to make room for Tim.”
Danny grit his teeth as Kon put his hands under his shoulders. Then he was wrapped in the strange sensation of TTK and his entire body was picked up and moved closer to the edge of the bed. Even as gentle as he was, pain radiated at the movement.
Danny clenched his eyes shut and stopped breathing until it passed. When it did, he slowly blinked open his eyes until the black spots faded and patted the bed next to him. “Get in, Secrets.”
“Are you sure?”
Danny glared and Tim grinned sheepishly as did as instructed.
But then he still tried to leave too much space. “Get closer.”
Tim grumbled under his breath, but shifted over a few more inches. He was sitting more upright than Danny was, but it was fine. Danny leaned his head against Tim’s side and finally let himself pay attention to the episode.
Next to him, Tim stiffened, but then relaxed and rested a hand on Danny’s head. “I’m glad you’re here, Polaris.”
Danny just hummed and let the show and Tim’s warmth help chase away the panic and grief he could still feel waiting for him.
---
Within two days, Danny was mostly able to sit upright. Frostbite’s medicines really were miraculous. Though he wished he could go to the Far Frozen and get stuck in a pod unconscious for a few hours and wake up fully healed.
He was video chatting with Ellie on the PDA Tucker had left him, complaining about being confined to bed.
She grimaced in sympathy. “I hate being stuck in one place.”
Danny laughed, then winced. “Trust me, gremlin, we know. You can’t even stay in the same city for more than a week.”
Ellie frowned and looked off to the side.
“What’s wrong?”
“What if—” she cut herself off and bit on her lip. Danny let her collect her thoughts. “I’ve been thinking of joining you. In Gotham.”
“What?” Danny was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open. Ellie had never expressed an interest in coming to stay with him before, instead prioritizing her travels through both Earth and the Realms. “You want to come here?”
She frowned and glared at him. “You told me Superboy is there! And he’s a clone, too. I want to meet him.” Then she looked away. More quietly, she added, “’Sides, who’s gonna be able to keep your ass safe from ghosts if someone decides to attack while you’re injured? You certainly can’t protect yourself right now.”
For the first time since his parents captured him, Danny felt his core trill in happiness. She cared about him. “Of course you can come. I know Kon’s been hoping to meet you one of these days, too.”
She grinned widely at him. “Great.” She spun her PDA around and showed off the aerial view of a city. When she turned it back, she paused on the gargoyle she was sitting next to. “Because I’m already here. How do I find you?”
Danny’s mouth was hanging open again. “You— Ellie!” But he was grinning and holding back laughter, too. “I have no idea. Let me call in Kon and Tim. Maybe one of them can direct you.”
He didn’t even have to call for them before Kon was pushing open his door. “You need us?” he asked.
“Ellie wants to visit. Can one of you tell her how to get here?”
“Sure,” said Tim. “Where is she?”
Danny shrugged and held out the PDA. “Somewhere in the city. But I don’t know where.”
Tim blinked at him for a moment before shrugging and taking the device. “Well that makes it easier.” He looked down at the screen. “Hey, Ellie.”
“Oh my god, you’re Superboy! Huge fan,” she exclaimed. Kon had shoved himself next to Tim so he could see her.
He grinned. “I’m a huge fan of you, too. Sam’s told me some stories.”
“Glad you’re not dead anymore.”
Danny smacked his face when he heard her say that. Tim froze, wearing a fixed smile that Danny could see right through.
“Just tell them where you are,” said Danny as loud as he could.
“I’m getting there!” protested Ellie.
Kon burst out laughing. “I like you, Ellie.”
Danny couldn’t quite make out her reply, but it was enough to get Tim back into the conversation. “Turn invisible and fly down to the street. Show me the nearest street sign, okay? And then I’ll help you get here.”
“Or I could just fly out and meet her and bring her myself,” offered Kon.
“Yes!” cried Ellie. “That!”
Tim shrugged. “Just show us the nearest street sign, okay? I’ll figure out a good landmark for Kon to meet you at.”
Danny let his mind drift as they discussed potential meeting spots. Not even ten minutes later, Kon left.
Tim ran his hands through his hair and returned the PDA to Danny. “They should be back within twenty minutes. Anything we should get ready for Ellie?”
Danny shrugged. “No idea when the last time she ate would’ve been. Couldn’t hurt to have something ready.”
“Fine. I’ll blend you a smoothie and put a pizza in the oven. And set up the couch for her to sleep on.”
“Thanks, Secrets.”
“’Course, Polaris. Need anything before I go?”
Danny waved him off. “I’m good.”
Once he was alone, he pulled up the group chat with Sam, Tucker, and Jazz.
Danny: Ellie’s come to gotham Jazz: Oh good! She arrived. How’s she doing? Danny: You knew she was on her way? And didn’t tell me Danny: Betrayal! Danny: She and Kon haven’t made it to the apartment yet. He just left to find her Sam: Oh good. Have Ellie talk to him about the benefits of stealing child support from an unethical creator Tucker: I’m sure both Tim and I will be *thrilled* to help him out Danny: He’s not stealing his child support? Sam: Nope. He’s an idiot about it. Danny: We gotta fix that Jazz: Tell us when she’s there! Jazz: Have Tim or Kon send a picture of the two of you Danny: Really? I’m still bed bound! Jazz: Picture. Jazz: It’s an order.
Danny groaned, but he was grinning through it. His friends were the best. He closed out of the chat and pulled up a game to kill time until Ellie got there.
He only made it through a level and a half before he heard a squealed, “Danny!” and running footsteps.
Ellie came to an abrupt stop at the side of his bed. Her hoodie had a few new patches since the last time he saw her, and she was frowning as she looked him over. “Are you really going to be okay?”
Danny held out an arm. “Come here, gremlin.”
She hesitated, but when he didn’t say anything else, she climbed into bed with him and Danny wrapped his arm around her in a gentle hug. He wished he could hug her tighter, but this would have to do.
“I’ll recover. Promise. I’m already doing better.”
“This is you doing better?” sniffed Ellie.
Danny winced. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. “I know. It’s a lot. Feels like a lot to me, too. But I’m okay. Or I will be.”
She sniffed and turned her face into his shoulder. Her voice was so soft he could barely hear it. “I can’t lose any more brothers.”
Danny’s eyes burned at that and he patted her shoulder. “I’m safe now. I promise. You’re not gonna lose me.” He wiped away his own tears as she shook under his arm. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and wished things had been different in so many ways.
-----
A wild Danielle appeared! I've been waiting to introduce her. Next big introduction will be some of Tim's siblings.
Honestly, there's a few things I was excited about introducing this segment! Can you guess the other big reveal I've been sitting on?
I'm going to wait to write any more of Arc 3 until I get all of Arc 2 on AO3. I've ended up rewriting more than I planned on, so editing is taking longer than I expected. Also the wrist. That hindered things a bit, too.
If you want notifications when I update, please check out my Subscription Post.
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scoobydoodean · 2 months
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Curious if you have anything for "Dean doesn't care about demonic vessels" / Dean calls Sam a monster whenever he makes a concerted efforts to exorcise care about the humans in the vessels. If not, is it something you'd consider tracking or expanding upon?
The first time the death of a vessel comes into question is in 1.22, when Sam, Dean, and Bobby capture "Meg", and the real Meg (Meg Masters) is still alive and possessed by her. Dean is the first person to say they need to exorcise "Meg" immediately to save Meg Masters from possession, while Sam wants to leave Masters possessed so they can potentially get more information out of "Meg" (this is all after "Meg" revealed John's location, so Dean already got what he wanted—Sam wants Azazel's location). Bobby then interjects, saying that exorcising "Meg" will kill Masters.
Sam (quietly to Dean): Maybe we can still use her. Find out where the demon is. Dean: She doesn’t know. Sam: She lied. Dean: Sam, there’s an innocent girl trapped somewhere in there. We’ve go to help her. Bobby (comes up to them): You’re gonna kill her. Dean: What? Bobby: You said she fell from a building. That girl’s body is broken. The only thing keeping her alive is that demon inside. You exorcise it – that girl is going to die. Dean: Listen to me, both of you, we are not gonna leave her like that. Bobby: She is a human being. Dean: And we’re gonna put her out of her misery. Sam, finish it.
This is an interesting discussion, but one where Sam is the absolute least concerned about Meg Masters. Overtaken by the desire for vengeance at this point, Sam just cares about potentially getting information from "Meg" that will lead him to the demon. It's Bobby and Dean who care about Masters, but push for different solutions. Dean believes Masters is suffering and cannot be saved, and is concerned with immediately ending her suffering and violation. More darkly, he may also want a little payback against "Meg" the demon. Bobby, from his own POV as a husband who lost his wife to possession, immediately jumps to wanting to wait and see if they can save Masters somehow, but this is... also likely a pipe dream. "Meg" is... to put it quite bluntly, a creepy, murdering, rapey demon. She is happy to kill humans at her leisure at this point in the series. She has zero incentive to preserve Master's life and they were never going to be able to save her. Meg Masters immediately thanks them for exorcising Meg when she retakes control of her body, even knowing she is going to die. There's really no good solutions in the situation, but Dean is still the one to reflect after on Meg and another of Azazel's children who he kills to save Sam, considering the gravity of the vessels lives.
Dean: Hey, Sam? Sam: Yeah? Dean: You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there. Sam: You didn’t have a choice, Dean. Dean: Yeah, I know, that’s not what bothers me. Sam: Then what does? Dean: Killing that guy, killing Meg. I didn’t hesitate, I didn’t even flinch. For you or Dad, the things I’m willing to do or kill, it’s just, uh .... it scares me sometimes.
I do think Dean is a little less fair with himself when it comes to Meg, given that at the point where they went through with the excorcism, they already had the information on John's location that Dean had wanted.
In 3.04, Sam calls Ruby a "cold bitch" after *she dismisses the weightiness of him killing two vessels. However, Sam kills a crossroad's demon and her vessel just because he's angry in the following episode. Sam's prioritization of vessels doesn't seem to materialize until 4.04. "Metamorphosis" (which I'm guessing is the basis for the claim you're asking me about):
SAM I'm sorry, Dean. I am. But try to see the other side here. DEAN The other side? SAM I'm pulling demons out of innocent people. DEAN Use the knife! SAM The knife kills the victim! What I do, most of them survive! Look, I've saved more people in the last five months than we save in a year.
First, this wasn't the motivation for honing Sam's powers when Sam originally agreed to start using them. His motive was revenge on Lilith. We also know he isn't being honest with Dean or himself here about the full scope of his motivations. As is slowly revealed to us over the course of season 4, Sam is attracted to the feeling of power that the demon blood gives him.
That aside, if you actually take this discussion in 4.04 in context, this is the first conversation where Dean knows Sam is working with Ruby and that Sam is honing powers he developed via her guidance. Dean's plea to use the knife comes right before Sam reveals that he is actually able to save some of the victims by using his powers. Dean doesn't claim the victims are unimportant after that—he pretty clearly suggests that saving the victims being a good thing is the start down the dark path paved with good intentions and that it won't end the way it's started.
DEAN That what Ruby want you to think? Huh? Kind of like the way she tricked you into using your powers? Slippery slope, brother. Just wait and see. Because it's gonna get darker and darker, and God knows where it ends.
He casts doubt on the idea that there aren't ulterior motives and dangerous downsides in play that Ruby isn't being honest about. These concerns materialize as reality by the end of the season. Ruby is using him in the exact manner Dean feared, and as Sam's powers grow, he needs more and more blood to not just grow stronger, but to maintain his powers. By 4.20, he cuts a demons throat and then stabs her, completely uncaring of the vessel, in his desperation to feed. In 4.21, Ruby notes that his appetite has grown, and in 4.22, Sam needs to drink a whole person and he begins to turns into a demon because of all the blood he has consumed.
This "conflict" about the knife killing vessels also isn't a repeated discussion between the brothers. It happens in 4.04 only as noted above. At the end of 4.04, Sam decides he is done with his powers after getting scared by what happened with Jack Montgomery. In 4.07, he decides to use his remaining powers against Samhain, and Dean asks him to use the knife instead. However, Samhain's vessel is 1) a villain 2) already dead. The next time Sam's powers come up is in 4.09 when Ruby urges Sam to use his powers to stop Alastair. After Ruby emphasizes their precarious position, Dean stifles his objections. No one is concerned about Alastair's vessel—they're concerned about not being killed. Dean (though he suspects) does not know about Sam using his powers again until the end of the season in 4.20 when Sam kills a vessel to drink their blood then flexes his powers on the demon possessing Amelia Novak. In other words, at no point after 4.09 does Dean even have an opportunity to object to Sam using his powers, and the vessel discussion is only relevant the first time they discuss Sam's powers, in 4.04. In 4.20, Sam shows he doesn't really care that much about vessels by feeding on and then killing a demon and vessel. So Sam's whole "save the vessel" angle also doesn't come up again after 4.04.
The point being... I think there are various points where Sam and Dean could both have showed more care toward vessels, but we can hardly say that SPN presents a consistent narrative where Sam cares about demonic vessels and Dean doesn't. I think framing the discussion in 4.04 in that way in the first place is fairly disingenuous, given Dean wasn't upset at Sam for wanting to save vessels. He was angry that Sam lied to him and broke a promise to uphold what Sam himself called Dean's dying wish (to please not hone demonic powers with Ruby because Dean believed it was the culmination of Azazel's plans for Sam and a continuation of their family's generational traumas). He's scared because he sees the path paved with good intentions down which Sam could tumble. He's scared because he only found out about all of this because Cas warned him the episode before (in 4.03) that if he didn't stop his brother from working with Ruby, the angels would.
You brother is headed down a dangerous road, Dean, and we're not sure where it leads. So stop it. Or we will.
He's scared because he's spent the last 40 years being coerced and tortured by demons and was corrupted toward becoming one and doesn't want his brother to suffer that same horrific fate—simply by some other means. He's scared because Sam lied to him about all of this, which suggests that deep down, Sam knows there are parts of this that aren't good and he might be hiding more things from Dean or even himself (4.04).
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bella-rose29 · 9 months
Text
Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 5
Christmas Eve part 2
Word count: 4.1k
Warnings: swearing, family members are mean (are we seeing a pattern?), can you tell that I love lebkuchen from the number of times it got mentioned, they kiss again but for like 2 seconds, then they kiss again later for longer than 2 seconds 👀, reader's grandpa isn't supportive of her job (but it's ok because lockwood saves the day), a pigeon was harmed in the making of this chapter (but it lives!), drinking (alcohol), lockwood talks about his family and the Christmases he spent without them, reader comforts him, there is so much communication but somehow so much miscommunication at the same time??? and I'm annoyed at myself for doing this (but it's necessary), this part does not have a happy ending at all (I'm sorry)
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"Well," Lockwood started, looking around at everyone gathered. "I suppose it started in March."
He paused for a moment, trying to figure out where to go from there. "We were on a job, just the two of us, in Kensington. A couple wanted their house clearing out before they properly moved in, and called us. Everything was going perfectly fine, and then we realised that our clients hadn't told us everything about the property, and we were dealing with three Limbless in an enclosed space." Y/n remembered that job well. It was one of the few cases that she'd actually gone on with just Lockwood, and they had been arguing for most of it about the best way to get rid of a Limbless.
Their argument had attracted the other two that were out in the garden.
"Y/n was brilliant, of course, using her Talent to locate the Sources of the three of them while I covered her, but I got held up in the corridor by some Type Ones that had appeared and she was left on her own. I only just got there in time to throw a salt bomb at the Limbless behind her and give her the extra second that she needed to wrap up the Source, but I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life. I really thought I was too late and that I'd lost her." His voice sounded thick with emotion, and when Y/n met his eyes they were watery. She tried not to frown, since it was strange for her to see him so affected like this. Lockwood cleared his throat, and looked back at the crowd. "Then of course I realised that I couldn't live without her and I asked her on a date. She said no, despite my attempts at baking her favourite cake and all the flowers." He cracked a smile, and people around the room laughed.
"Well you did look rather pathetic, Ant. I sort of wanted to watch you suffer a bit more." That much was true at least, since any time she got to watch him squirm was entertaining to her.
"Well you certainly got your share of that, darling," he huffed, and Y/n bit back a snort at the frustrated look on his face. "I had to ask her about six times after that first one before she finally said yes. We've been dating since the middle of April."
"It was eight, but who's counting?" Something about his story didn't sit right with her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe it was how close it was to what had actually happened on the job, or maybe it was the dread of all the questions she'd get about her job once people started mingling, wanting to know if she had a backup plan in case this line of work failed, or if she realised how dangerous it was.
Maybe it was the way that Lockwood had looked at her when he was talking about losing her.
~~~
"What are your intentions with Y/n?"
"Don't be stupid," John said, whacking his brother Sam on the arm.
"No, but really, what are your intent- oof!" Sam had been tackled to the floor by John, and Lockwood did his best not to flinch.
He'd been dragged into the library a few minutes ago by Y/n's brothers, and although he was the smallest, Tom was currently the most frightening as he stared Lockwood down from across the room, despite the two eldest brothers currently scrapping on the floor.
"Did... did you want me to answer that, or...?"
"I mean, it would be nice to know," Will piped up, eating straight from a packet of lebkuchen in the armchair opposite. Lockwood didn't think he'd ever seen the man without some sort of food nearby. He sat forward in his chair slightly, trying to come up with a good enough answer that would mean he could go back to the party. John and Sam stopped punching each other to hear his answer.
"I'm mostly just happy that she even gave me a chance, if I'm being honest." That much was true, but Y/n's brothers didn't need to know that he was talking about her acceptance of a position at his company and not the mythical relationship that the two of them had been in for eight months. "I know that I'm incredibly lucky to have her, and I can promise you that I won't do anything to screw that up."
Sam and John seemed happy enough with his answer, and Lockwood started breathing a little more easily. Tom was still staring at him, and Lockwood could have sworn that the boy hadn't blinked the entire time. Will snorted, shaking the bag around to get the last crumbs of lebkuchen out. "Yeah, sure. What's the real answer? No more of that crap, because it's obvious you rehearsed that to make us happy." When Lockwood didn't say anything for a moment Will prodded him again. "Go on."
He clenched his jaw, wondering how he could say anything nice about Y/n when she hadn't said anything nice about him for nearly three years, and looked out the window. A memory flashed up, and despite it having only been that morning, he was surprised at how quickly he'd forgotten the interaction.
Since when had she memorised how he took his tea?
He didn't think that Y/n had ever made him tea before, always making it a deliberate point to make a pot for everyone but him, and yet that morning while they sat in bed she had done it perfectly as though it were second nature. Then his mind drifted back to the night before, and he felt his face warm up at the memory of the mistletoe. He cleared his throat.
"I guess..." Lockwood sighed through his nose and clenched his jaw again. It was starting to ache. "I guess that's true, what I said before-"
"You guess?" Will interjected. Lockwood hadn't thought that he would be under this much scrutiny, but he was starting to sweat uncomfortably. He'd rather be dealing with Barnes right now than be sat here.
"It is true," he amended, making wary eye contact with the man. The packet of lebkuchen was neglected in Will's hand, hanging limply as he sat forward to question his younger sister's boyfriend. "She's incredible - the most incredible girl I've ever met - and I truly am aware of how lucky I am that she chose me. I'm not exactly... easy... to be around sometimes because of my agency, but she deals with me perfectly. She deals with me more than she should, to be honest." He frowned, thinking again about how he needed to figure out how to apologise to her. Nothing he had said was a lie; in fact, he didn't think he'd said anything more true about Y/n the entire time that he had known her. She was incredible, since her Touch was so powerful and unlike anything that he had ever seen before. And he did count himself lucky that she, despite his horrible words, still decided to work for him. And she did deal with him, more than anybody should, and she did it by being just as much of an arse to him as he was to her.
Maybe they were good together after all.
A thud on the window made everyone turn to look at what had made the noise, and Tom finally broke eye contact with Lockwood.
"Pigeon," Sam said, having been closest to the window. "I think it might be- oh no, it's just got up and flown off. Don't tell Mum though, she'll have a fit if she sees the mark it left."
"Alright, I think we're done here. You're free to go, Lover Boy," Will said, waving his hand vaguely at Lockwood and scrunching up the empty lebkuchen packet. Lockwood got up to leave, but upon opening the door a body fell face first into his chest with a small 'oof!'
"... Darling?" Lockwood asked, confusion lacing his voice. The figure looked up and offered a smile.
"Oh, hi! I was just... wondering where you were, Anthony." He tried to not let it show how much it affected him to hear his first name in her mouth, but the slight intake of breath that he took probably gave him away. It didn't help that Y/n was in that dress, since she looked so stunning that he couldn't focus on anything but her.
"You're so obsessed with each other," Lockwood heard Will mutter from behind him, and he realised with a start that they had just been staring at each other and blocking the doorway, penning the others in the library. When they went to move, however, Sam stopped them.
"Mistletoe! You can't break tradition!"
"Ugh, again? Did Mum plant an entire fucking garden of it?" Y/n said, peering up at the sprig that hung over their heads. "They're not gonna let us leave without doing it."
"Alright. Let's get it over with then," he whispered into her mouth, and he couldn't help but feel the exact opposite when she pressed her lips to his.
~~~
"So," Y/n's grandfather Richard started, and internally she groaned. He had used the tone of voice that meant he was about to start asking about work, and she was dreading this conversation. "Being an agent. Are you still sure it's what you want to do with your life, Y/n?"
"Yes, Gramps. I'm sure. I have been doing it for years now."
"But there are so many other things you could be doing! Jobs that you could actually be good at!"
That stung a little, and Y/n sat back slightly in her chair. She loved her Gramps, and most of the time he was one of her favourite family members, but he'd been alive before the Problem had started and didn't understand that things had changed since he was a kid. He believed in her in most other ways, just not when it came to her life as an agent, which was one of the only things she was truly passionate about (other passions included drinking tea and hating Lockwood).
"I don't mean to intrude," a voice piped up, and once again Y/n found herself wondering how the hell Lockwood managed to always turn up at the right time. "But Y/n is one of the best agents in the country, sir. Her Talent is so incredibly unique and that's what makes her so brilliant at her job." He perched on the arm of the chair that she was sat on, and she frowned when she felt the urge to rest her head against his thigh.
"Well how can you possibly know that!"
"Gramps, this is my boyfriend, Anthony? You met him briefly last night?"
"Oh, is it? Right, well I suppose you would know then! Tell me, is she too much of a pain sometimes?!"
Lockwood hesitated slightly, glancing down at where Y/n sat in the chair and frowning a little at her Gramps' question. "If anything I'm the pain. I don't know why she keeps me around to be honest." He sounded so sincere about it that for a moment she forgot that he had ever said anything horrible about her. The rest of their conversation faded into background noise as she remembered what she'd overheard earlier.
It was probably breaking all sorts of moral laws to eavesdrop on her brothers' interrogation of Lockwood, but then again she'd made her boss her fake boyfriend to fool her entire family, so she figured that she was well past being entirely moral about things. And besides, she hadn't been intending on listening in at first, she'd just been walking back from using the loo and happened to hear them. She couldn't get Lockwood's words out of her head, and she'd been replaying them over and over since.
"She's incredible - the most incredible girl I've ever met - and I truly am aware of how lucky I am that she chose me."
What the hell did that mean? Was it a lie that he'd made up to make them happy? But then she'd also heard Will prodding for the truth and his exclamation that whatever Lockwood had said before (which she hadn't heard) was obviously fake, so did he just come up with a better lie?
Tonight, she thought. Tonight I'll talk to him.
~~~
When the last guests had stumbled out of the front door, singing loudly and bumping into each other because they had had too much to drink, everybody left in the house let out a sigh of relief.
Y/n mumbled a tired 'good night' to everyone as she pulled herself upstairs, and Lockwood followed after her. He'd been helping her father tidy up a little before turning out the lights, to save some of the food that needed refrigerating and chucking other things in the bin. She had been worried when her dad first started talking to Lockwood, but then she'd heard her father laughing and had decided that they would be perfectly fine together.
Now she collapsed face first onto the bed, not yet worrying about the chill in the room.
"I can see why you were dreading that," Lockwood said, his voice sounding too loud. She'd had to down a few drinks that afternoon to deal with the sheer number of questions and comments from family members and friends, and now her head was aching slightly.
"Can you get me some water?" she asked, but since her face was still buried in the duvet it came out muffled. Lockwood's footsteps shuffled around for a while, and then went silent, and Y/n huffed in annoyance. Of course he'd just get himself ready for bed and not worry about her, that was so typical of him. She pushed herself upright, wincing when the room wobbled a little and the pain increased in her head, then frowned when Lockwood reappeared, something in his hand.
"Here. I couldn't find any painkillers though, so I'll just go and fill that up when you're done so you can try and sober up before bed."
Oh. Maybe he wasn't being so typical after all.
"Thanks," she muttered, taking the glass from him and eyeing it warily.
"It's not poisoned, darling. If I was going to kill you I wouldn't do it in a way that might mean you could come back to haunt me."
"Charming."
He sat down on the bed next to her with a sigh, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. "You know," he said, not looking at her. "This hasn't been... the worst Christmas I've ever had."
"No? You're spending it with me." He gave her a wry smile, finally bringing his gaze up to meet hers.
"Yeah, that's not really that bad."
Oh.
"Really?"
He hummed in answer, nodding slightly, then got up and walked over to the fireplace. They sat in silence while Y/n finished off her water and Lockwood got the fire going, and once she headed over to sit next to where he was crouching she realised how cold she had been before. He sat back, leaning on the chair behind him. Y/n was hunched over her knees, empty glass dangling in her grip. She could have done the same as Lockwood with the armchair behind her, and god knew her head needed something to rest against because despite the water dulling the ache it was still pressing against her temples, but she didn't think she could see Lockwood's face at that moment.
"The first Christmas after Jess passed was the worst."
Her head snapped to look at him where he sat to her left, but he was staring into the fire, eyes transfixed on the flames but looking at something far away. She didn't say anything, instead just letting him go ahead in his own time.
"The ones after my parents died were hard, sure, but at least I had Jess around and we knew what the other was going through. Then she was gone too, and I was nine years old in a big house that was suddenly empty of the family I had spent my life being loved by."
She knew that his family were dead since the absence of any of them was shockingly present in 35 Portland Row, but he had never told her anything. She'd had to learn it all from Lucy, George, and Holly.
"That first one was horrible. I don't think I stopped crying for longer than an hour the entire time, and I couldn't sleep because I kept replaying it over in my head. I could have helped," he whispered, and Y/n could see that his eyes were glistening in the light of the fire. "I could have saved her, if only I hadn't-" he cut himself off, his voice growing too strangled to continue. Quickly she placed her hand on his arm, turning her body to face him.
"Hey, hey," she said quietly, drawing him into her arms. Her glass had been abandoned on the floor, her hands now holding Lockwood's body in her lap instead. His head was resting on her chest while his arm wrapped around her stomach, the other supporting his weight, and Y/n told herself that she was only allowing this to happen because she hadn't yet sobered up.
She wasn't sure how long they were there for, her leaning back at an awkward angle to allow room for Lockwood to lie on top of her and curl into her side while he sniffled, but after a while she found that she didn't mind stroking her fingers through his hair (which was surprisingly soft) or having his weight on her (it was like having a weighted blanket).
"Thank you," he muttered after a while, sitting up and wiping at his face. He paused in his movements when he realised that their faces were much closer together than was normal for two people that didn't like each other. The memory of that morning when she had smoothed out his collar and he had been about to say something came back, and when his gaze flicked between her eyes and her lips she drew in a breath.
"Anthony?"
And then he was surging forward, kissing her with the same passion that he had hated her with while she reached up to grab his shirt, not caring that she was wrinkling the fabric that she herself had smoothed out that very morning. How could she think of anything but him when the two of them had finally crashed together like a tsunami hitting cities?
How could she think of anything but him when he pulled her on top of him?
And how could she think of anything but him when he sighed her name into her mouth and it sounded sweeter than the tea he drank?
And then she was thinking about him entirely, and remembering everything that had happened since they met, and suddenly kissing him was a terrible idea.
"She's not good enough for the company."
She pushed away from him with a start when those words blared in her mind like warning alarms, the memory of what she had overheard in the library around four months after starting to work for Lockwood and Co. She hadn't heard anything before, but the disdain in Lockwood's voice told her it was about her. She had run upstairs to make sure she didn't hear any more of what he thought about her.
"Y/n?" he asked now, voice hoarse from crying and kissing, and his expression was desperate as he watched her press her hand to her lips and take shaky breaths. "Y/n? What is it? Wh-"
"Don't," she snapped, standing up and trying to forget the feeling of his hands on her body. "Don't... just don't, Lockwood." He was getting up too, scrambling after her and reaching out to stop her from slipping away.
"I don't understand-"
"Don't understand what?! We can't- we hate each other, Lockwood!" The venom in her voice made him stumble back a few steps. "You never wanted me at your company and you made sure that I knew that!"
"I-"
"I heard you telling the others that I wasn't ever going to be good enough for you, and then a few hours later after a job you're telling me that my Talent is incredible?! What am I supposed to think?! And then you spend the next however many years being a complete dick to me and complaining about me, so I do the same because clearly being nice didn't work, and now you're here at my fucking family Christmas event pretending to be my boyfriend and kissing me when you don't need to-"
"Of course I need to! I know I was horrible to you-"
"An understatement," she scoffed, crossing her arms.
"-but I'm trying to figure out how to apologise to you because I know that I've fucked up and I need to fix it!"
"So you kissed me?!"
"No! Yes! That wasn't an apology!" He rubbed his hand over his face, clearly frustrated with how it was going. "It was a mistake- no, Y/n, I didn't mean it like that!"
"A mistake?" she whispered, her eyes stinging with fresh tears. "Kissing me was a mistake?"
"No," he said, tone filled with desperation. "No, Y/n, I just meant that I shouldn't have done it before apologising to you because then it would seem like... I don't know! Like I was doing it just to try and trick you into accepting my apology or something!"
"Were you? Doing it to trick me? Because right now I can't tell what the truth is, Lockwood!"
"It wasn't a trick. It was never a trick, and I'm an idiot-"
"Yes, you are."
"Would you just listen to me?!" he shouted, anger seeping in to his body, and Y/n took a step back at the look in his eyes.
"What, like how you listen to me?"
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Yesterday, on the platform, when I was talking about my family being a lot and how it was hard for me and I'm actually related to most of them, and I couldn't imagine how hard it would be for someone to be introduced to all of that in one go. You just assumed that I meant it would be hard for you because your family is dead, and then when I tried to explain you cut me off and gave me the cold shoulder because you didn't fucking listen, Lockwood. What I meant was it would be a lot for anyone, no matter their own experience. Hell, even George has said that he would rather be blocked from the Archives for life than ever meet my family, and he's got almost as many relatives as me!"
Lockwood didn't say anything for a minute, instead just standing still and staring at her while the fire in his eyes died down, and Y/n shook her head. "This?" She gestured between the two of them. "This will never work. We will never work. Because you never wanted me and no matter how much I want you to like me in the same way that you like the others, you never will. And I will never be good enough for you." That was one more person to add to the list of people that she needed to meet unnecessarily high expectations for in order to be even noticed. She wiped at the tears that had slipped down her face while she was talking, the salt making her cheeks itch.
"You're right," Lockwood finally said. "I won't ever like you in the same way as the others." He stopped there, looking down at the floor. When he went to speak again, however, he lifted his head to an empty room, and the bathroom door shutting him out.
Y/n ignored his attempts to talk to her through the door, shoving the duvet and blankets that she had quickly grabbed into the bathtub and plugging her headphones into her walkman so that she didn't have to hear the rest of his cruel words and excuses.
She had craved something different with him, and it had fucking destroyed her.
And now she had to wake up on Christmas Day and pretend that she was hopelessly in love with the fake boyfriend who had just broken her heart.
part 6
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Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife
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simp4wom3n · 8 months
Text
The Quiet One Pt V
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Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Fem!reader
Summary:With Ghostface closing in on them, Act 3 finally begins as everyone teams up to hopefully once and for all take them down. ~ Word Count: 9.8k ~ Warnings: descriptions of gory injuries, blood, and anything that comes with Scream, Scream VI spoliers!!, hella swearing
A/N: OMG HEY!!!! IM BACK!!! It has been such a ridiculously long time since I have written, and I'M SO SORRY. Life really got in the way for a while, but I am back. This fic is so damn long it took me ages, but I hope it's everything you guys wanted. I love you all! COME ON MOTHERF*CKER!!
Pt1 ~ Pt2 ~ Pt3 ~ Pt4 ~ Pt5
Stepping onto the brisk streets of New York, a cool breeze brushed against your skin, painting a rosy hue on your nose and cheeks. The gentle breeze caressed your scar, providing needed relief to its subtle throbbing as you walked hand-in-hand with Tara, who was engrossed in conversation with her sister, while the rest of the group led the way to the station. Eyes scanning your surroundings hastily, your brain attempted to adjust to your new vision as you watched people walk past, utterly oblivious to the psycho that was tormenting their city.
You had never been more jealous.
While meeting Tara was undoubtedly the best part of your life, walking nonchalantly down a busy street at night without checking your shoulder regularly sounded pretty nice. Was it worth throwing your love for Tara away for? Absolutely not, yet you would be lying if you said there wasn't a little voice in the back of your mind that liked to remind you how every day your life could've been - especially after everything you've suffered, as if Woodsboro wasn't enough.
As if sensing your discomfort, Tara paused her conversation with her sister to glance at you worriedly, her eyes scanning your rigid posture and distant eyes moving too fast for her to track. She squeezes your hand to grab your attention as your eyes finally meet hers, your lone e/c eye standing out against its pale white counterpart. "You okay?" she whispers softly, her eyebrows creasing slightly. "Yeah," you sighed dejectedly, "just kinda wishing I had a normal life... you know, without all this Ghostface shit".
You watched as Tara's face fell slightly at your words, causing you to panic, "It's not your fault! I love you and everyone here. I just hate worrying about who will be alive in the morning." Her expression was slightly lifted as a small smile formed on her lips, but guilt continued to gnaw at her eyes. You could hear her whisper, "Yeah, I get it", as she briefly looked away to look at others a few metres ahead of you. She lets go of your hand with a comforting squeeze as she quickens with each step. "I'll be right back."
Watching as she walked off, a gentle hand on your shoulder pulled your attention from the small girl now talking to Mindy. "Did I say something?" you ask, knowing it was Sam standing next to you. "No, she just likes to run off sometimes," she jokes lightheartedly, a slight chuckle falling from your lips. "Tell me about it.". Mindy glances back at you as Tara approaches Chad and Danny. "She's a difficult girl to understand, but if there's one thing I know for sure, it's that she loves you. It's a little obsessive, honestly." Your cheeks flush as you look at Sam questionably, "Sam being sentimental? Never thought I'd live to see that." "Oh shut up" she shoves your shoulder playfully as a comfortable silence falls between the two of you.
Curious, you gaze at Tara as she returns to her position beside you, intertwining your hands without hesitation. You enquire softly, "What was that all about?" while she keeps her gaze fixed on the approaching station stairs. "Nothing. I just needed to talk to them about something.". Despite feeling it was about you, as said friends kept looking over their shoulders at you, you stopped yourself from pushing it.
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As soon as you stepped foot in the station, you were greeted by an overwhelming influx of people, many of whom were dressed in Halloween costumes. Mindy steps back from the group in front to stand by your side as you take in your surroundings for the first time. Like you, she looks through the crowds, her expression more serious than you're used to on her. You excused her unusual behaviour until you both walked into someone who stared at you wide-eyed, horrified by your scar.
"What the fuck are you looking at?! Fuck off! Jeez... some people."
Now, you were the one who had to look at Mindy with wide eyes. This type of aggression was uncommon for the typically gentle and humorous girl, so the fact that she even displayed it, especially to defend you, it shocked you, to say the least. "Damn, Mindy… thanks," you muttered under your breath as Mindy returned your timid smile, "They deserved it."
Walking further onto the platform, the group waited momentarily whilst the train came to a stop and the doors opened. With tons of people trying to squeeze through the small doors to fit in the tiny space left on the packed train, it became a free-for-all. It happened in a blur; your hand separated from Tara's as Danny dragged her onto the train, leaving you and Mindy amongst the wave of people.
Amidst the chaos of people jostling your shoulders, your attention shifted away from Mindy's presence and focused solely on reaching a concerned Tara. Mindy's frustration became evident through the curse words she hurled at those around you. As you pushed your way towards your girlfriend, an obnoxious person dressed as Ghostface forcefully pushed you from behind, causing you to stumble onto the train and into Tara's embrace, the girl grunting softly at the impact. The echo of Mindy's furious tirade filled the air as you finally turned to witness her forcefully pulling off their mask.
Tucked in Tara's embrace, a soft chuckle escaped your lips at the scene before you. That was until the doors of the train started to close. "Shit… Mindy!" you exclaim, feeling a surge of guilt wash over you as you desperately try to reach the door, only to be held back by Tara. You watch Mindy's sudden realisation of the closing doors, a loud 'fuck' escapes her lips as she tries to navigate through the remaining crowd in her path.
The doors shut just as she's about to reach them.
You pound your fist against the door in frustration, mirroring the same exasperated look on Mindy's face. Grabbing your phone, you motioned for her to do the same through the glass as you texted her. The whine of the train starting to move fills your ears as Tara pulls you closer, her body wrapped around your free arm.
In the midst of all the chaos, it escaped your attention that Ethan had also managed to miss the train, although you couldn't quite fathom how. Your phone dings with a text from Mindy. "She's taking the train right after us with Ethan," you inform the group, slipping your phone into your back pocket and releasing a quiet sigh.
"She'll be okay. She's Mindy." Tara comforts you softly, gently stroking your arm as you gaze down at her, nodding in response. You embraced your girlfriend in a tender and heartfelt hug. You were burdened with guilt. You're not sure where this sudden protective nature had come from, and although your heart felt some relief knowing that she cared, you couldn't help but feel responsible for it.
She was protecting you, and look where that got her.
Letting go of Tara, you gently kissed her forehead and intertwined your hand with hers. Until now, you were completely absorbed in your thoughts, oblivious to the tension brewing within the group. Taking your gaze off your girlfriend, the source of said discomfort became obvious.
Ghostface.
Everywhere.
"Oh, what the fuck" you cursed as Tara's grip on your hand tightened. Everywhere you looked, there were individuals wearing the costume that perpetually plagued your nightmares, and their unwavering gazes seemed to be fixated on you. "Why are there so many of them?" Chad asked, his frustration evident in his voice as he, too, grew tired of encountering the same pale mask wherever he went.
Everyone's faces are ridden with anxiety. "How many stops do we have?" Tara inquired with a heightened sense of urgency, eager to get off the train just like the rest of you. Sam gazes at the map, undoubtedly internally pleading that it's not too many. Looking back at the group, she hesitates slightly, revealing the news couldn't be good. "Ten", she speaks solemnly. Tara's eyes are filled with concern as you exchange worried glances, causing your heart to race at an abnormal speed.
The subway lights start flickering, intensifying the eerie atmosphere inside the train. Your vision, already impaired, struggled to follow every Ghostface amidst the flickering lights. It became nearly impossible for you to keep track of them, adding to the waves of anxiety that were rushing over you.
As the train came to a halt, the lights flickered into a steady glow, and a voice over the intercom announced your arrival at 79th Street. In a matter of seconds, as you glanced down the carriage, your gaze met that of one of the masked individuals. Your face fell. A sense of fear filled the air, your breath catching in your throat as both of you remained motionless, captivated by the piercing gaze of those intense black eyes.
As if they had never been there, your intense gaze was interrupted when they vanished behind someone getting on the train. You felt a sinking feeling in your stomach as you scanned the area, desperately searching for any sign of them, but your efforts proved futile. The others remained clueless about what you just saw as the train started to move again, the lights resuming their irritating flickering.
You pulled Tara closer to you as the carriage grew dim, the silhouettes of your friends becoming the only discernible shapes in the darkness. With a tender embrace, she places her hand on your back, tracing soothing circles that bring you a sense of calm. You locked your gaze on the floor as the cabin continued to flicker around you.
"This is 72nd Street", the announcer speaks monotonously, the train coming to a stop as you look up from the floor, noticing your girlfriend's concerned gaze directed towards you. Attempting to avoid her gaze, your sight lands back on the Ghostface from before, again staring daggers at you. You try to maintain an equally stern gaze, which you manage until they start moving towards you at pace.
"Guys", you quickly inform the others about the imminent danger. The atmosphere instantly tense up as all eyes fixate on the approaching figure. Tara and Chad both step forward to protect you. The Ghostface suddenly stops right in front of you, causing your friends to freeze in an effort to avoid giving away any reaction, just in case it's not the real killer.
Attacking a perfectly innocent person on a New York subway was the last thing you needed, especially with the rumours surrounding Sam.
With a sudden and effortless motion, the person in front of you removes their mask, making Chad flinch. Instead of those frightening black eyes, a teenage girl's soft brown eyes fixated on you, brimming with a curious intensity that seemed almost unhinged.
"Holy shit, your makeup is so good! I saw it from across the train, but, oh my god, it looks so much better up close. How did you do it?" she chirps out in excitement. You freeze, immediately recognising she is talking about your scar.
Your perfectly real scar.
You find yourself speechless, unable to form a response as the unexpected question catches you off guard. Without hesitation, the girl extends her hand towards your face, her fingers inching closer to your scarred face. Taken aback, you witness Chad's hand swiftly grasping the girl's wrist with a firm grip. The expression on the girl's face is filled with surprise, whilst Chad displays determination.
"Get away from her before I make you." Your eyebrows raise slightly at his words, your lips quirked into a small smile as you revelled in your friends' newfound sense of protectiveness.
It made you feel human again.
You softly thank Chad, who gives you a curt nod and a smile as your face lights up with a smile that hadn't adorned your lips for many days. Since Ghostface's return, your life has been completely turned upside down. Your friends began to turn against you as the blame game singled you out as its victim, tearing apart the very essence of your being.
However, at this moment, as you bear the marks of your past and the lasting impact it has had on you, a newfound determination surges through your veins as you observe the individuals surrounding you.
These were your people. Your family.
You were determined to go to any lengths to protect them, even if it meant sacrificing yourself for their sake.
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With your hands still interlocked, you finally emerge from the sweaty train and lead the way up the stairs, closely followed by Tara and the others. You quicken your pace up the weathered stairs, your gaze searching for a blonde who had agreed to meet you here. A voice you recognise calls to you as you reach the peak of the staircase. "Hey," you hear her say, your eyes meeting Kirby's as you shift your gaze towards the woman.
As she approaches, she effortlessly inserts herself into the group, seamlessly blending in as you all make your way towards the theatre. "I've talked to Bailey. I've got everything set up," she explains before noticing the lack of numbers in the group. "Where are Mindy and Ethan?" she asks, her voice tinged with a mixture of worry and suspicion. Clenching your jaw slightly at the reminder of the people you left behind, Tara jumps in to respond, "They're five minutes behind us."
"Let's get you all inside.", Kirby speaks, nodding in response before she redirects her attention to the theatre, which is now just a few steps in front of you. As the dilapidated structure looms before you, its imposing presence casts a shadow over the group. Everyone's steps come to a halt as Sam directs her attention towards Danny. "Not you."
Turning towards them, you watch as shock comes over Danny's face, "What?" he says, his voice tinged with disbelief. "Don't trust anyone, remember?" Sam speaks softly yet assertively. "We don't know you. Not really.". His face contorted with hurt as he leaned towards Sam. "You know me," he said, trying to convince her to let him protect her.
"You're not Woodsboro. I'm sorry." Whilst you felt bad for Danny, despite knowing that Sam would never willingly let anyone protect her, the revelation that being part of Woodsboro meant you were trusted filled a small part in your heart that you weren't aware was missing.
Releasing Tara's hand, you gently wrap your arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as you watch the interaction. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile graces Tara's lips, a sign that she's starting to see the return of the girl she loves after the emotional and physical turmoil you've both endured over the past few days.
"It's okay. It's okay, I get it." Danny finally speaks up. "Be safe, okay?" he pleads Sam, leaning in and kissing her cheek tenderly while delicately caressing her arms. Sam's face reveals a hint of guilt as she replies, "You too." before swiftly turning around and continuing walking. The rest of you cast sympathetic glances at Danny before joining the girl on the way to the theatre.
"Good call."
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As Kirby unlocks the doors with a reverberating clank, a surge of nervousness courses through you as the doors swing open, revealing the dimly lit theatre. With Tara clinging tightly to your side, a sense of unease washes over you as you cautiously enter the room, fully aware of the gravity of the situation. "I cleared the whole place before you got here. This is the only way in or out." Despite your best efforts to pay attention, Kirby's words seemed to go unnoticed as you surveyed the familiar surroundings, a sense of unease growing within you.
"So, this is the only way in or out. He steps in through the first door, both doors lock automatically, trapping him inside. We turn it into a kill box." Kirby continues to explain enthusiastically, clearly entertained by the fact that this is finally her chance to bring one of these psychos to justice. "Weapons?" Sam questions. "One gun and I hold onto it." Sam gives Kirby a disapproving look, but before she can say anything, Kirby interrupts her, "I'm the only one with a badge here. That's the way it's going to be. We're safe here."
As much as you want to believe what she says, this was Ghostface you were dealing with. Despite the lingering uncertainty, you made an honest attempt to maintain trust in the plan's success, not only for your own sake but also for the sake of the others, particularly Tara.
"I'm gonna check in with Mindy. See if they're close." Sam interrupts, breaking the suspenseful silence that had fallen amongst the group. As Sam walks away and Chad follows, Tara squeezes your hand for your attention. "Come with me?" "Of course", you reply softly. She guided you to the old confectionary stand, a room that had unexpectedly become an escape for the two of you, as it felt like the only safe spot in the entire building.
Besides, it was Tara. You would follow her wherever she went.
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"When was the last time anybody used this place? It's so old," Tara comments as you walk through the door. Although not well-maintained, the room decor still manages to evoke a strange sense of comfort as you softly chuckle at her words. "Yeah," you respond softly as you both make your way to the counter, gently letting go of Tara's hand and resting your elbows on it.
As you spot an old box of Milk Duds across the counter, your hand instinctively reaches out to grab them, only for your hands to collide with the girls next to you. A faint blush tinges on your cheeks as her hand pulls back, causing a soft chuckle to escape your lips, "I-I'm sorry, you can have them". You apologise, holding the box towards her, a hint of nervousness evident as you gently bite your lower lip. She pushes your hand back towards you with a slight smirk. "Take them."
"No, I mean…" you stuttered, her touch sending a shiver down your spine as you savoured the rare moment alone you'd shared with her for a while. "If you want them, you have them," you eventually finish. "You think I want these?" she chuckles, prompting a shared embarrassed laughter between the two of you. Your eyes lock, smiles forming on your faces, entirely captivated by each other. "Kind of", you joke, raising your eyebrows at her. "They're like a hundred years old. Maybe that's your thing."
Your soft laughter trails off into a comfortable silence as you look down at your hands, your heart racing, but this time from a much more pleasant catalyst. "I really missed you. I don't know why I told you to back off." You smiled gently at her, tears starting to well in your eyes. "I was so stupid. This whole time, all I really needed was you."
The more she spoke, the more flustered you got. Instead of enjoying the sentiment, you couldn't help but let your mind destroy it.
You're different from the person she is talking about.
She fell in love with the girl whose face wasn't mutilated and would probably scare off young kids. Whilst Tara and your friends could look past it, understanding the trauma you had gone through, you would never be able to walk down the Street without being met with horrified gazes from every direction. And even though Tara would undoubtedly try to protect you from it, you were convinced that her efforts would be futile.
"I'm not the same anymore," you said dimly. Tara frowned at you, gently taking hold of your trembling hand. "What do you mean?" "I just... someone mistook me for a Halloween costume for fucks sake... I'm not the same, and I never will be." You speak, deliberately avoiding eye contact with your girlfriend, as if her reaction would confirm the truth behind your words.
She could never see you the same.
Instead, her delicate touch caressed your cheeks, mindful of your scar, as she tenderly lifted your gaze towards her. Your teary eyes met hers as she looked at you with a tender smile. "Y/n... scar or no scar, you are still the same girl I fell in love with. Nothing will ever take you away from me, especially a scar that makes you look pretty badass if you ask me." you chuckle at her words, a few stray tears escaping, which she gently wipes away.
"I love you," she says, her gaze locked with yours, ensuring her words reach you. "I love you too," you speak with a chuckle, leaning closer to her as she wraps her hands around your neck and draws you in. The moment your lips connect, it feels like heaven. The taste of her lips is a sweet revelation, and you plan to savour every moment. The room seems to blur as the outside world dissolves, leaving only the two of you. The warmth between you intensifies, and a current of desire courses through your veins. Sinking deeper into the kiss, you wrap your arms around her waist, squeezing her tightly as your lips begin to move.
As you tried to deepen the kiss, a sudden jolt of pain shot through your scar, causing you to pull back. Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath to suppress the pain, you eventually look towards your girlfriend apologetically as she looks at you worried. "Sorry," you chuckle lightly, "It's... still a little tender." You offer the girl a gentle smile as her hands glide down to your hips. "Don't say sorry. We'll just take it slow." Her seductive gaze locks with yours, setting your senses ablaze and causing a familiar blush to creep onto your cheeks. Briefly taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you lean in again. Nothing else mattered at this moment.
Or so you thought.
As your lips are seconds away from colliding, Tara's body is slammed into you as a scream erupts from her throat. Your eyes go wide in panic as you scream her name, only to see Ghostface standing behind her with a knife in her back. She is ripped from your grip as she is thrown to the ground. Although your instincts told you to help her, the masked individual who was now staring straight at you told you otherwise.
Without warning, their knife comes swinging towards you. Taking a swift step back, you barely dodge the blade as they go to swing again, their arm colliding with you. With a grunt, you harshly grip their arm before pulling them around you and throwing them into the wall. The shattering of glass from the poster frame intensifies the chilling encounter as another swing of the knife inches dangerously close to your face. Dodging the swing, you swiftly regained your footing and delivered a powerful punch to the psycho's face. As your fist made contact with their chin, they crumpled to the ground. As the cries of Tara echo in your ear, in a fit of anger, you direct your attention towards their fallen form and deliver a forceful kick to their stomach.
Frantically realising that there was little time they would be on the ground, you swiftly pivoted and rushed to your girlfriend's side, urgently helping her to her feet and guiding her towards the door. With a sudden burst, the door swings open, startling you as Sam and Chad's faces, filled with terror, appear on the other side, their expressions clearly reflecting the echoes of Tara's bone-chilling scream. They quickly notice your dire situation and urgently drag you from the room.
"Come on, go, go, go!" Sam screams as you run out of the room, and Chad slams the door behind you. "It's Kirby! She's the killer!" Sam yells at you, "No shit!" you scream back, desperate to get out of this place. Running towards the caged exit, you grip its rusted bars and pull at it desperately. "That's locked. Come on". Your face falls further, "Are we trapped?" you yell in disbelief. "She made the whole theatre the kill box. For us."
"Hey, what about that? There's an exit door." Tara directs everyone's attention to an opening on the roof, positioned just above a set of scaffolding. "Maybe it leads to the roof or something," you suggest, looking at your girlfriend, who nods in agreement. "There's only one way to find out. Let's go." Chad quickly takes the lead, leading the group towards your potential escape route.
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"Bailey's on the way, but-" Sam's words are abruptly interrupted as Ghostface unexpectedly pounces on you from the shadows of the stage. Tara frantically tries to evade the swinging knife, ending up on the floor in an attempt to do so. Unfortunately, you are unable to do the same as the blade slices the side of your arm. You firmly grasp the wound on your arm as you clench your jaw in pain. You watch as the Ghostface continues to swing at Chad and Sam before Chad manages to tackle them onto the floor.
"Y/n! Come on." you hear your girlfriend exclaim, her voice filled with urgency, as you catch sight of her and Sam moving towards the stage. You swiftly move as Chad forcefully slams an old movie camera into their masked face, causing their head to snap back and hit the ground with a resounding thud.
Chad follows you with the camera in hand as you join the girls backstage, both of them looking around frantically for an exit. "This way! Come on!" Tara's voice echoes through the air as she swiftly dashes towards a small tunnel backstage. You eagerly trail behind her along the narrow path, acutely aware of the ominous footsteps of Ghostface closing in from behind. Until now, your lack of vision in one eye hadn't posed much of a problem. Yet, as you sprinted through the narrow pathway, you kept crashing into the walls while Chad struggled to guide you in the right direction.
As you cast a quick glance over your shoulder, a chilling realisation washes over you - Ghostface is steadily closing in. "Fuck, they're fast," you exclaimed, as Chad also realised their proximity. "Get fucked", he shouted as he made the quick decision to hurl the bulky camera at them, immediately slowing them down.
With the additional advantage, you all made it back into the confectionary area as Chad threw the popcorn machine behind you. They quickly push it out of the way as you all turn around to face them. With a slight tilt of their head, they launch a series of aggressive swings towards you and Chad.
The knife narrowly misses both of you as you attempt to position yourselves for some kind of counterattack. Swinging down at Chad, he manages to grab their arm as you grab their shoulders, throwing them back onto the counter. Sam and Tara swiftly seize their arms, desperately trying to subdue them, while you deliver a decisive blow to their face, sending them crashing to the ground once more. As they fall to the ground, Tara quickly runs up to them and boots them in the face.
You couldn't help but think how hot it was.
"Go! Go!" Chad exclaims, swiftly grabbing the old bubblegum dispenser from the counter. With a determined gaze, he raises it above his head, preparing to deliver a decisive blow to Ghostface. Tara and Sam guide you away from him, leading you towards the door, expecting him to join you momentarily.
His piercing screams quickly disrupt the plan, causing everyone to turn their heads in disbelief. Your jaws hang open in shock as you see another Ghostface standing beside him, clutching a knife pierced in his side. "No! Chad!" Tara screams, sending a shiver down your spine. With Sam holding her back, you watch in suspense as the two masked figures surround Chad and lift him up to his knees.
They absolutely butchered him.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you witnessed the relentless onslaught. You watched him get stabbed over and over and over again as if it was never going to end. You were frozen to your spot. He somehow mustered up the strength to tell you to run, but no one could move. "Go," he sputters out, his determination to save the rest of you clear. In a swift and chilling motion, the Ghostfaces allow his lifeless form to crumple to the ground. With synchronised precision, they wipe their blades clean, sending a shiver down your spine.
Finally getting over your shock, you immediately grabbed the two sisters and dragged them out of the door. "This way. Up here. Come on." Sam directs your pointless running as she tries to get you both backstage. Before you can make it, one of the Ghostfaces pounces from behind the screen. Instinctively turning around, you are stopped immediately as the second Ghostface traps you, waving their knife mockingly.
You're surrounded. Whipping your head back and forth, you watch as they both close in on you, the tension in the air palpable. Thinking quickly, Sam assesses the situation with a determined glint in her eyes. Without hesitation, she swiftly grabs some bricks from the debris-laden floor, handing one to you and another to Tara. In that instant, a silent understanding passes between you - do anything to survive.
As Sam moves the two of you so that you find yourselves back to back, forming an impromptu defensive triangle, the weight of the brick in your hand provides an unexpected but reassuring comfort. The cold surface of the brick grounds you, grounding your resolve as you prepare to face whatever unfolds.
"Ready?" Sam asks, and you swiftly reply, although Tara's distressed cries hinder her ability to respond, overwhelmed by panic and fear. "I need you to be ready. Ready?" With your free hand, you firmly grasp Tara's, offering a comforting squeeze while she inhales deeply. Her hesitation overwhelms Sam, prompting her to urge Tara to look at her. As Tara meets her gaze, a newfound determination fills her voice as she declares, "I'm ready."
"Come on motherfucker!"
Just as the fight was about to begin, the deafening echoes of gunshots reverberated through the vast theatre, prompting an instinctive duck for cover. The ominous figures of the two Ghostfaces hastily retreat into the shadows, leaving an unsettling silence shattered only by your heavy breathing. In the dimly lit ambience, a figure emerges from the stage, and a collective gasp escapes the group as the familiar face of Kirby comes into focus, blood streaming down from a fresh wound on her temple.
"It's okay!" Kirby's voice rings out, a desperate attempt to reassure, though her pained expression reveals the gravity of the situation. The vivid red streams on her face contrast with her pale complexion, creating a chilling scene that leaves everyone motionless.
"Stay the fuck back!" Sam's voice pierces the tension, laced with a mix of fear and anger, earning a confused glance from Kirby, disoriented yet resolute. "We know it's you, Kirby," Tara adds, her tone unwavering as Kirby hesitantly approaches the group. "One of them knocked me out," Kirby pleads, her expression changing to one of desperation. Her eyes are genuine, making you want to trust her more, but your trust issues weren't easy to overcome.
"Kirby, stop!" A deep voice slices through the air, redirecting attention to Bailey, who strides into the theatre with a drawn gun, his gaze fixed on Kirby. "Get away from the girls!". The urgency in Bailey's command prompts an instinctive protective response as you push Tara behind you, eyes fixed on the unfolding standoff.
"What are you doing?" Kirby pleads desperately, the air thick with accusation and uncertainty. "Did you kill Quinn!? Did you kill my daughter!?" Bailey's vengeful glare intensifies, scaring the shit out of you.
He clearly wasn't afraid to kill for his kids.
"Jesus Christ!" Kirby exclaims, her eyes darting between you and the detective in disbelief. With her focus back on you, she pleads again, "Whatever he's been saying to you, don't listen to him." The desperation in her gaze transforms into one of resolve as she turns back to the man threatening her. "He's probably the killer," she speaks assertively.
Your gaze remains fixed on Bailey, his expression unwavering even as the damning accusation hangs in the air. Suddenly, the figure of Ghostface appears behind Bailey, and Kirby's frantic scream fills the space, warning him of the imminent threat, "Behind you!" she screams. Disregarding her desperate plea, Bailey swiftly pivots and unleashes three deafening gunshots that pierce through the air, each shot finding its mark, striking Kirby in the chest, and causing her to crumple to the ground.
The aftermath is a haunting symphony of laboured breaths and the lingering echoes of her cries. As your focus shifts back to the killers, you watch in horror as two Ghostfaces stand alongside Bailey, their presence casting a sinister pall over the unfolding chaos. The dim lighting accentuates their ominous figures, while Bailey, wearing a sadistic smirk, reveals himself as an orchestrator of this grim spectacle.
"Great job. Both of you."
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"You?"
A palpable tension filled the air in the dimly lit theatre, engulfing you as the truth unravelled right before your eyes. "Yeah, of course me." Bailey teases with a smirk growing on his lips, "Frankly, I expected more from you two after what you did to us."
"What do you mean 'us'?" Tara questioned hesitantly. Bailey's smirk grew into an insufferable smile as he looked to his left, where one of his accomplices was moving to remove the mask. Your heart pounds inside your chest as the white face and black fabric are torn away, revealing your friend's face.
Ethan.
The seemingly unassuming roommate revealed himself with a sinister grin. "Ta-da!" Bailey laughs, finding the shock on all of your faces amusing. The sick look on Ethan's face made you want to puke, the revelation that someone you considered a friend had been out to kill you all along.
The feeling made Woodsboro feel like nothing. The two killers were Sam's boyfriend, whom you had hardly met and someone who you hated from the beginning.
It was nothing compared to seeing the real side of your friend.
With a smirk plastered on his lips, he begins to taunt you about how unsafe you were the whole time, "Mindy was right; it was easy to juke the roommate lottery. All I had to do to meet you was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad. Fuck it felt good to kill him.". You felt a surge of anger coursing through you as he spoke, causing your jaw to clench and your grip to tighten around the brick in your hand.
The idea of Ethan pretending to be his friend for months, only to have been plotting his demise the whole time without any hint of remorse, ignited an unbearable anger inside you.
"This one was your grandmother's Sam. Nancy Loomis?" Ethan smiles at Sam, pointing to his mask with his bloodied knife. "Really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? And speaking of family, my name isn't Ethan Landry, is it, Dad?"
"Dad?" Tara speaks for the rest of you, your faces growing more shocked. As the shock washes over you, your focus shifts to the second masked figure who still stands menacingly staring directly at you.
"But, if you're Ethan, that just leaves… Mindy?" Sam breathes out in disbelief. Your expression twisted in confusion as you looked back at the memories of how much Mindy had loved Anika. It seemed impossible, yet who else could it be?
Shock filled the room as Quinn removed her mask, leaving you all in stunned silence. "Hey, Roomies. Didn't see that one coming, did you?"
"But you died?" Tara spoke, a hint of anger behind her voice. "Yeah, kinda didn't, though." Quinn quipped mockingly, "It was a good way to get off the suspect list, stab Gale Weathers, stab Mindy on the train, that sort of thing."
Bailey's proud smile made you feel sick as his proud eyes bore into yours, "I made sure I was first on the scene so I could switch her body out with a fresh one. You'd be surprised with what a grieving father can get away with."
Your anger was starting to burst at your seams, being played for fools and having someone come back from the dead to kill your friends, pulling very tight on your last nerve.
"I got Stu Macher's mask. He was my favourite.". You rolled your eyes at her giddy proclamation. Of course, he was.
Bailey, clearly the leader of this psychotic trio, took slow and calculated steps towards Sam. "Number three and number two. Which just leaves…" Pulling out the most weathered mask from his jacket, he holds it out towards Sam, his eyes menacing. "I'm gonna need you to put it on."
Sam stands tall and looks back at the man with a matching expression, slapping the mask out of his hand as you watch his jaw clench in anger. Ethan is quick to react and slashes his knife towards the girl, slicing through her upper arm with a hiss.
You are quick to catch Sam as she falls back into you. She quickly recovers as she grasps her arm, now dripping with a familiar crimson liquid. Bailey's two minions begin to move around you, circling you as your anger finally comes spewing out of you; you step in front of Sam with rage filling your eyes. "You did all this as a family?" you yell at them incredulously. "Hell yeah, bitch! Sam should know why better than anyone!"
You immediately knew they were talking about Billy, yet the true origin of their motive still escaped you. What family had Sam ever hurt for them to hate her so much to go on a murderous rampage?
"They still haven't figured it out. Maybe we overestimated them." Ethan mocked as the confusion was clearly evident on your faces. Sam was the most confused of all, knowing that she had never done anything wrong. "I don't know what you believe, but I didn't commit the murders in Woodsboro…"
Bailey's laugh fills the theatre, slightly offended that Sam would think that they would believe some stupid internet rumour. Instead, he reveals that it was, in fact, Quinn who had started the malicious rumours, making life in New York for Sam absolute hell.
Each time you think the betrayal couldn't run any deeper, they manage to beat themselves yet again.
"You're a killer, just like your father was.". "I'm not…". "Yes, you are, you motherfucker! You killed our brother!". The gears could finally tick inside your heads as you looked between each other in an attempt to connect the dots. As far as you were aware, the only person Sam had ever 'killed' was… Richie.
Oh shit.
"You're Richie's family?" The realisation also struck Sam as her face sank. "Ding-ding-ding, now she's finally getting it." You shook your head in disbelief. A family seeking revenge for their dead son, okay, sure. Seeking revenge for a murderous psycho by killing his victims who had killed him out of self-defence? Too far.
Yet clearly, nothing was too far for this family, as Ethan revealed the sickening detail that they had killed their own mother because she had refused to avenge Richie. You knew all Ghostfaces were, on some level, psychotic, but this was getting insane.
"Great job with the parenting…" Tara quipped at Bailey, her words bringing the tiniest of smiles to your lips, her sarcasm never failing to entertain you, even if it's whilst you are surrounded by killers.
"You shut your whore mouth!" Quinn screamed at the girl, your jaw clenching at the insult as you looked at her, infuriated. The temptation to throw the brick in your hand at her face almost overcame you until you felt a gentle hand on your wrist.
"I loved my son. So I helped him build this collection." You shifted your gaze towards the older man as he looked amongst the exhibitions with a reminiscent smile. "All of this is Richies?"
The more you seemingly find out about Richie, the more Sam's expression seems to fall. The guilt she had felt after Woodsboro was reborn as her ignorance about her then-boyfriend increased tenfold.
Knowing that this was all Richie's made the space somehow more bone-chilling than before. As your eyes scanned the numerous exhibits, filled with items that belonged in an evidence box somewhere, a part of you pangs with guilt for the other siblings who were clearly the least favourite.
"This is where you have to die." Your attention is brought back to him as he redraws his gun and points it directly at Sam. Instinctively grabbing for Tara's hand, you spare Sam a quick glance, noticing her expression shift as she tilted her head at the man.
Oh, he was fucked.
"He was pathetic, you know?". You watched the deadpan expression on Bailey's face break. "That's not true…" he shook his head. "He was a man-baby who made his girlfriend do almost all the killing." You had to hold back your smile as you watched his facade breakdown. "He was a strong, virile young man!" "He was a weak little bitch who cried before I cut his fucking throat."
As the words leave Sam's mouth, Quinn lunges towards the three of you with a bloodcurdling scream. She is quickly and effortlessly stopped as Tara clocks her in the face with her brick. With teeth and blood flying out of her mouth, she falls to the floor.
A sign that their moment is finally over, your senses are heightened as Act 3 appears to finally kick off. Before you can make any moves, gunshots ring out from behind you as you turn to see Kirby apparently coming back from the dead.
Her resurgence doesn't last long as Ethan quickly rushes towards her with his knife ready in his hand. You're quick to follow the boy as he reaches Kirby and stabs her in the stomach. Finally reaching them as Kirby falls to the ground in pain, you run straight into Ethan, throwing him into the ground. He quickly gets back up and runs away with a maniacal laugh as you shift your focus back to Kirby.
Noticing the knife still sticking out of her stomach, you look at her with a grimace as you realise it's the only way you're gonna get a weapon anytime soon. "Sorry, but I need this." She gives you a small nod as she squeezes her eyes shut.
Gripping onto the handle, you pull the knife out swiftly in an attempt to minimise her pain. She howls in pain, and her hand grips on your arm, her nails digging into your skin as the wave of pain washes over her. Finally relaxing, she opens her eyes back up and looks at you with a tiny smile.
"Fuck 'em up."
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As you stand up, you see Ethan reappear from behind a wall, his eyes set on you. Turning towards him, he begins to charge towards you with a sick grin still plastered on his face. "What are you gonna do, scar-face…" he calls out mockingly as he closes in.
That made you snap.
With a new vigour burning inside of you, you lunge towards him as you pull the knife above your head. With a loud grunt, you drive the knife down into his chest. His smile finally washes over his face as he looks at you surprised. Ignoring it, you continue to pump your knife in and out of his chest as if he were a piece of meat, his blood splattering all over you, but you couldn't care less.
Out of breath, you push his limp body off of you as he keels down with blood sputtering out of his mouth. Standing still, you look at his blood-covered body with laboured breathing. Noticing he is still alive, you move to stab him again until you hear your girlfriend's voice from behind you.
"Y/n!" she calls, your head instantly turning in her direction as you notice her beginning to climb the scaffolding behind her sister. Taking your chance, you quickly run towards them, weaving in and out of the display cases before you reach the base of the scaffolding.
Looking for a place to hold your knife, you settle on wiping it off on your shirt, adding to the mural of crimson colours, before placing the knife between your teeth.
As you begin climbing, the gash in your arm aches as new blood begins to flow from the wound. Biting painfully onto the knife, you continue your ascent as you see Tara at the top, reaching her hand down to you. Hearing noise behind you, you turn your head as you watch Bailey and Ethan begin to circle you like sharks, smelling your blood.
With a final grunt, you reach the top and grab Tara's hand as she helps pull you towards the balcony. Watching the two sisters scale across it in front of you, you take the time to try and settle your breathing, which is easier said than done when you're clutching a knife between your teeth.
Moving to follow them, you take the knife out of your mouth and carefully hand it to Tara. Climbing carefully along the railing, you are seconds from making it to safety with the others before another shot rings through the air.
A burning sensation instantly erupts in your leg as you lose your balance and fall backwards. Screaming your name, Sam and Tara barely manage to catch you as your hands barely grip the slippery railing.
Peering over your shoulder, you watch as Bailey moves towards a set of stairs and Ethan moves to stand directly underneath you. "Shit. Not good," you whisper to yourself as your gaze returns to the sisters' terrified looks.
With your injured arm weakening by the second, a noise from the balcony catches your attention as Quinn appears behind Sam, brandishing a bloodied knife in her hand. As Quinn moves towards her, she is forced to let go of your arm, and she turns to face her.
With Ethan taunting you from below and Quinn and Bailey closing in on the girls, you overcome your panic and realise it's your life or theirs.
"Tara, let me go". Your words cause the girl to look at you in shock. “No, I-” “Tara! Let me go.”. Your grip continues to slip as she looks at you as if you have lost your mind.
"Tara… Please." you give her a small smile as she looks at you with tears in her eyes. You watch as her lips begin to quiver, and you feel her grip loosen. Giving her a nod, she finally lets go of your wrists, causing you to plummet down from the balcony.
Turning your attention to the killer below you, you land with a loud bang, and your injured leg collapses beneath you. In an instant, Ethan is plunging his knife into your stomach, a meek whine escaping your lips as you bend over his arm. Twisting his knife inside of you, your loud cru echoes through the theatre as tears threaten your eyes.
Finally, bringing your head up to look at the boy, his smile sent a shiver down your spine as your breathing became more and more laboured. Just as you thought your time was coming to an end, another figure comes falling down from above you.
It was Tara.
Before you can say anything, she lands on her feet with a knife in her hand. Catching Ethan off-guard, she grips his hair and rips his head back. Looking at her with his mouth open, she lifts up her knife and plunges it into the back of his throat. You can hear him gargling on his own blood as she twists the knife, blood splattering on her face.
"Now die a fucking virgin."
Pushing him so that he falls to the ground with a thud, Tara quickly averts her attention back to you, who, to her surprise, was wearing a smirk on her lips. "That was really hot." you chuckled in pain as she kneeled down next to you, noticing the knife was still in your abdomen.
"Shut up," she said before moving to lie you down. Knowing she was about to pull it out, you exhaled shakily before nodding at her, and just like you did Kirby, she pulled the knife out quickly, earning a pained groan from you, before immediately applying pressure to your wound.
Gently removing her hand from your stomach, you move to sit up and attempt to ignore how her hand is now stained with your blood. Making into an upright position, you look at Tara, who is scanning you for any other wounds, whilst you watch her face with a tender gaze.
The bang of a gunshot, followed by the thud of a body that vibrated the creaky floors above your head, brought you both back to the situation you were in. "Help me up," you say quickly, urgently trying to get up and help Sam, presuming it wasn't her body that you heard fall.
As Tara wrapped her arm around your waist gently, she pulled you to your feet; the faint sound of Sam's voice talking to someone calms your nerves. The throbbing from your bullet and stab wound was a rude awakening as to the shape you were in, not to mention the blood that covered almost every inch of your body.
Before the two of you could move towards the stairs, the sound of screaming rang through the theatre as you both looked up. Your jaw dropped. Bailey and Sam came flying over the railing before plummeting into the displays beneath them. As the glass shattered beneath them, you were quick to notice their lack of movement.
Pulling Tara off of you, you pushed her towards her sister. Running to her side, you hobbled as fast as you could towards them. Thankfully, Tara had managed to shake her awake by the time you got there. As she helped Sam to her feet, you sighed in relief as you looked over at a still motionless Bailey.
As the sisters check over each other, your sights remain on the unconscious killer in front of you. "What are we gonna do about him?" you ask, nodding your head in his direction.
You watch as the gears turn in Sam's head, weighing the options between ending it now and letting him die somewhat peacefully or giving him a taste of his own medicine.
She chose the latter.
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Hidden behind the curtains on the side of the stage, you watched Bailey through a small slit, waiting for him to move in order to signal Sam that your plan was in action.
It was simple, really. Make him go crazy, and then you kill him.
After a few minutes, Bailey finally began to stir as he moved to sit up. You quickly poked your head around the corner into the hidden hallway, where Sam was standing in her father's costume; you gave her a nod before she pulled a phone out of her pocket and pulled it to her ear.
The sound of Bailey's phone ringing echoed through the now disturbingly quiet theatre. Repositioning yourself so that you can see him, you watch as he rapidly looks around him before standing and bringing his phone to his ear.
You can't hear what Sam is saying to him, but you watch him make his way to the stage as planned. "Oh yeah, what's that?" his voice grows louder as he finally appears on the stage.
Now, the fun part.
As planned, from your place on the ground, you reached your uninjured leg out and kicked a floorboard. Before you could even retract your leg, Bailey snapped towards the noise and fired two precise shots into the heads of the mannequins that lined the stage.
"You put on your true face, huh? Your birthright. Poetic that you're going to die in it…" Exhaling quietly as he spoke, you moved to a spot against a wall where you could relax your weakening body for a minute as Tara played her part.
A noise sounded from the other side of the stage. Closing your eyes as you leaned your head back onto the wall, you listened as Bailey once again flinched and fired his gun, this time the sound of shattering glass filling the stage.
"You know the truth now. Murder's in your blood."
It was your turn again. As quietly as you could in your state, you reached your arm over to the brick that Sam had given you. Picking it up, with the strength left in your arms, you threw it into the back corner of the stage, away from you.
The sound of Bailey's gun firing once again filled the air as he screamed frustratedly, "Stop fucking around and show yourself!". Knowing that it was Sam's turn, you quietly crawled towards the curtain, pulling it aside slightly so that you could peer through.
"I'm a fucking police officer! What are you gonna do, huh? Who do you think they're gonna believe?" he screams once again. A faint smile lands on your lips as you watch Sam appears behind him, wearing the mask and all. Before he even notices her presence, she quickly spins him around before, as you would put it, stabbing the shit out of him.
As crazy as it sounded to say, the sound of his screams was like music to your ears. His family had singlehandedly taken everything from you, so watching him suffer was like heaven to you.
Spotting Tara appear from behind her hiding spot and walking towards Sam, you decided to do the same. With a groan and the help of a wall, you pulled yourself to your feet before weakly hobbling out from your place behind the curtains.
As Sam finally stops stabbing him, and he pleads for his life, you watch with a mixture of admiration and concern, confused as to why she is giving him any chance to live.
She didn't entertain it for long.
"But you did fuck with my family, so…". You watch with wide eyes as Sam gruesomely stabs him straight in his eye, the blade clearly reaching his brain as he falls to the ground, twitching.
"Aw, now we're matching." you joke, earning a laugh from the girls as you look at the mutilated body of the once detective who now also had only one functional eye - had he been alive, that is.
"Let's get out of here," Tara says softly as she grasps your hand with hers. Her touch never fails to make you giddy, but something was off this time. As she tried to pull you towards the stairs off the stage, your head began to spin uncontrollably as a wave of nausea hit you like a truck.
Your legs collapse underneath you as Tara catches you, her face ridden with worry. "Y/n?!? Hey, you're okay, just breathe.". Your vision was fading in and out of a blur as the feeling of your limbs began to escape you. Sam kneels down on the other side of you, matching Tara's expression, as you try to nod to Tara's words.
"Yeah… I just… need a little break." Your eyes begin to flutter shut as you try your best to keep them open. "Keep your eyes open for me, okay," Tara speaks as calmly as she can as she notices the blood beginning to spill from your wounds again.
“Yeah… of course…”
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Opening your eyes slowly, you groan softly as the bright light hanging above you stings your eyes. Carefully rubbing your eyes, still careful of your scar, you move to sit up slightly, noticing you are in an empty hospital room. Confusion washes over you, as last you remember, you were on a bloodied stage, and yet here you were.
Doing your best with your aching limbs, you move a pillow behind your back in order to give you a better view of your new environment, admittedly much nicer than your previous one.
Scanning the room, you notice the small TV in the corner of the room is playing The Babadook. You know you didn't put it on, so someone must be here, and it's not particularly hard to figure out who it must be.
With your attention focused on the screen, you fail to notice when Tara walks in the door with a bag of chips in her hand. As she notices your moving figure, a loud gasp escapes her lips. She drops everything in her hands to cover her mouth, her eyes immediately watering.
The sound makes you immediately turn to her, a smile growing on your lips as your eyes meet hers. As the fact that you are awake and alive sinks in, she runs over to the side of your bed and brings her hands up to your face.
Gently cupping your cheeks, her teary eyes look into yours as your hands gently grip her wrists. "Hi," you chuckle softly, the wave of relief finally hitting you. "Hi," she chuckles back even softer, her eyes scanning every detail of your face.
"Is everyone okay?" you ask with furrowed brows as she nods enthusiastically in response. "Yeah, yeah, we're all fine.". The sigh that escapes your lips rids your mending body stress, all of it melting away as soon as you know you have all made it.
Your eyes return to Tara's as she whispers softly, "I can't believe you're alive.". You smile sincerely at her words. "I'm not going anywhere." At your words, she lets go of your face and climbs onto your bed. Your eyes were filled with curiosity. You watch as she wraps her arms around your neck and buries her head in your shoulder.
Instantly reciprocating, you wrap your arms around her waist and hug her with all the strength you can muster. You can feel her tears falling onto your bare shoulder, entangling one of your hands in her hair as you gently play with her hair.
"We made it, Tara. We made it."
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imtryingbuck · 3 months
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theo
Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.
Word count: 1,886
Warnings: angst. swearing. fluff. small mention of abuse of a child. mentions of an affair. mentions of dying during child birth.
Masterlist   Series Masterlist
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When Bucky got back to the house all he wanted to do was climb into bed with Theo, pull the covers way over their heads and block out the rest of the world surrounding them. Standing in the foyer taking his jacket off he could hear noises coming from the living room and unlike how it was at Michael’s it was laughing.
As drained as he was, a smile formed on his lips at hearing Theo’s laughter.
“Bucky!” Jumping up from her spot on the couch she runs over to him with a huge smile on her face, standing on her tiptoes she presses a kiss to his lips. “I-I hope you don’t mind but Matt came to visit me.”
“Of course I don’t mind pretty girl.” He greets Matt with a nod, his attention mainly on the girl in his arms.
He knew he needed to tell her and Matt about Eliza before they heard it from anyone else but he really didn’t want Theo to be mad at him even though he didn’t pull the trigger. But he knew he needed to do it.
“Pretty girl, I need to tell you something. Matt as well.” Taking Theo’s hand he led her towards the couch she was sitting on before. “Eliza… she’s dead, Michael did it.”
Bucky’s eyes were on her, watching for a reaction - her eyes widened that it was her father that did it. Matt looked surprised but didn’t look all that bothered, he did however lean over and whisper “You’re now free.” In Theo’s ear pressing a kiss to her temple.
“Why did he do it?” Matt asked.
“He found out that she had paid three men to shoot Theo.”
“What? Wait… Dory you were shot? Why didn’t you tell me!”
“It… it didn’t come up, sorry.” She winced rubbing her arm nervously.
Before anyone could say anything Sam started giggling like a little child, a smile pulling at Theo’s lips at hearing his chuckles - as she always did. “I’m sorry, but Dory?”
“Well yeah, Theodora - Dora - Dory…” Matt explained. “It’s not as bad as her name for me.”
“Why what is it?”
“Chew.” Theo beams proudly.
“Why?” Sam couldn’t contain his laugh any longer.
“Because I couldn’t say Matthew when I was young so it was Chew.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie but it wasn’t the whole truth, when she was around five or six she received a beating that left her jaw swollen so therefore she couldn’t talk all that well to Matt - since he was the only one that ever spoke to her nicely. But from that moment he called her Dory and she called him Chew.
Everyone began laughing and soon enough the conversation changed to something else entirely different. Not long after, Sam made everyone take a vote on what food should be ordered - Steve did say Chinese which Theo didn’t mind trying but Sam forced everyone to vote for pizza, threatened them that if they didn’t he would start singing… everyone quickly voted for pizza.
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“You know if you blink she won’t disappear, right?”
Bucky nodded, finally dragging his eyes away from Theo as she danced with Wanda both doing the Waltz - terribly mind you but still. “I know.”
“She told me she loves you.”
“And I love her.”
“You know when we were younger, I never understood why they all hated her and I truly believe that my sisters and brother didn’t really know why they had to hate her either.” Matt says as he fiddled with his glass. “What they did, no one deserved to suffer the way she did.” He shakes his head at the memories of watching as Eliza beat Theo, at the memories of finding Theo curled up on a dingy mattress in the basement blood in between her legs.
“I always tried you know, I tried to get them to stop it but that just made it worse. I even took a beating myself once, Theo made it stop by pushing me out of the way.”
“She said that you always tried to protect her.” Bucky tells him, looking him in the eyes he could see it clear as day that Matt still held so much regret.
“I failed her is what I did.” He lets out an un-amused laugh. “I left her there the second I turned seventeen, I moved out and I just left her there.”
“Matt you was a kid yourself alright? You can’t blame yourself or think you failed her.”
“I suppose you’re right but that doesn’t mean I didn’t fail her.” Both men smile when Theo’s laugh hits their ears. “You know it’s been a really long time since I’ve heard that noise.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I think she was eight the last time I heard her laugh and I think it because we were playing and I was putting on different voices for the toys.” It was a bittersweet memory because they were playing happily together until Brandon came in and for no reason just started beating on her, Matt remembers begging him to stop and even tried to pull him away from his baby sister.
“But anyway, I just want to thank you for everything.”
“You don’t need to thank me. Listen if you ever need a job I’ve got one for you, here’s my number.” Once Matt had his number saved in his phone Bucky pats his brother in law on his shoulder before making his way over to Theo.
“Can I talk to you pretty girl?”
“Of course.”
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He takes her hand and leads them into his office, but first he grabs something off the side table in the foyer. Sitting them both down on the couch she gives him a smile which makes her dimple dips in.
“I went to your father’s house and we spoke, he gave me this.” He hands over the photo frame to her, she takes it carefully, turning it over, she looks up at him and his heart aches as her head tilts with confusion. “It-it’s your mom, baby.”
“S-she looks like me.”
“She was beautiful.”
“Did-did he tell you her name? I don’t know it.”
“Jessica.”
“Jessica.” She repeats, her eyes going back to the photo. Her right hand lets go of the frame and moves to her cheek feeling the dimple. “We have the same thing.”
“I know, it was the first thing I noticed when I saw it.”
“Did he say” clearing her throat, she looks back up at him quickly before dropping her eyes back to the photo and shakes her head.
“Did he say what pretty girl?”
“Did she love me?” Her words were whispered.
“Baby, she loved you so much. Hey Theo look at me, your mom loved you so so much and I just know that she still loves you.”
“So why did she leave me?”
“She didn’t have a choice baby.”
She jumps up off the couch, shaking her head. “Yeah right! She died when she was giving birth to me!”
“No she didn’t?”
“How do you know? You wasn’t there!”
“Baby.” He stands up and grabs a hold of her arms to stop her from pacing. “Baby, Eliza killed her because she found out about the affair and you, Michael was given a choice to pick either you or your mom and your mom begged him to pick you. She didn’t leave you because she wanted to.”
“So… so I killed her?”
“No! God no baby, baby she died because she was in love with a married man.”
“B-but it’s my fault.”
“No it isn’t, I swear to you it’s not your fault. It’s Michael’s fault for not being faithful to his wife, its Eliza’s fault for pulling the trigger. Not yours my pretty girl.”
“S-s-so she didn’t leave me because she wanted to?”
“No baby.”
Theo collapses into Bucky’s arms as tears pour from her eyes, her whole body shaking as she cries. The photo frame containing the photo of her mom, the first time she had ever seen her mom, gets squashed in between their bodies. From as young as she could remember she was told by Michael and Eliza that her mom had died giving birth to her, she always carried that guilt of killing her own mom but now hearing the truth she didn’t know what was worse. Dying whilst giving birth or being murdered because she loved the wrong man.
“I’m-I’m sorry Bucky.”
“What for angel?”
“For everything.” Pulling away from him and wiping her cheeks she looks down at the photo. “I never got to meet her.”
Bucky knew that she was three months old at the time of her mom’s death so therefore she had met her but being so young of course she wouldn’t have remembered, he didn’t have the heart to tell her the truth but the words slipped out before he could even process it. “You were three months old when it happened.”
“Oh, but I don’t remember, does that make me a bad person?”
“No! No it doesn’t, and you’re not a bad person Theo.” He takes the photo frame from her trembling hands and opens the back. “Michael said that your birth certificate is here.”
And it was. Theo’s finger rubbed over Jessica’s name before folding it back up. “C-can I show Matt my mom?”
“Baby you don’t have to ask. Come on we’ll show him together.”
Hand in hand they leave the office and go back into the living room where everyone was, she gets Matts attention and shows him. His face lights up at finally seeing the person who gave him his baby sister, his thoughts were they looked so similar. Soon enough everyone was surrounding her all praising the beauty of the woman who birthed their friend, a woman that they would never get to meet.
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Bucky told Matt that he could stay the night so he wasn’t driving home at the late hour, Theo told Matt that she would make him breakfast if he said yes and who was he to say no to that offer? When showing him to the room he would be sleeping in for the night Theo showed him her studio, Matt never knew that his little sister had such talent - his eyes were full of pride as he took in the paintings, even telling her that he wanted a few.
When they got into their room Bucky took the photo frame from Theo’s hands and neatly placed it on the side table next to a photo of his mom.
“Come on pretty girl, let’s get you into bed.” He tells her when he sees her trying to stifle the yawn that tries to make an appearance.
Climbing into bed after the most exhausting day he had in the longest time, he’s quick to wrap his arms around her, he feels something tickling his chest and when he looks down he sees that Theo grabbed tabby off the bedside table and pushes the bear in between their bodies. She smiles shyly up at him, he presses a kiss to her lips then to her head and pulls her and tabby closer to him.
“I love you.” He whispers softly as her soft snores hits his ears.
<Previous   Next>
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Tags: @sapphirebarnes @bellabarnes1378 @unaxv @skulliecadaver-blog @mrsnikstan @sebastians-love @pattiemac1 @julvrs @undf-stuff @violetwinterwidow01 @cjand10 @angrykitsune01 @drdbnkl2008
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golden-barnes · 1 year
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Operation milkshakes, hospital visits and custody of Mr Bear
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Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader Summary: Sequel to Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together. Bucky and Reader are finally on their little coffee date, but Amaya gets hurt. Then there's a shared custody to heal a broken arm. {wc: 2.7k} Warning: a bit of bucky being insecure again and a bit of insecurity from reader . Some sexual references bit of tension but its mostly fluff. Amaya gets hurt but it's brief. if you don't like a milf reader pls don't interact I don't want to get hate like last time lmao a/n: I have been writing this for years it seems and I finally am able to finish it and I'm so happy I hope you guys enjoy it. I am gonna try and finish all of my stories this month to be able to do other stuff. I am so sorry if it's shitty as hell, I tried my best to fight the writter's block Reblogs and comments are appreciated.
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Is Bucky embarrassed that he has been texting none stop with his student’s mom? Yes, but who will stop him from feeling like he is walking on cloud nine? For the past few weeks, Bucky has been texting you back and forth whenever you had a break. 
Unfortunately, you haven’t been able to get that cup of coffee because of work, but Bucky knew he had found his match. Funny, intelligent, and the sweetest person he has ever met. 
Fuck, I feel like a love-struck schoolboy. Bucky thinks, cursing at himself while passing the exam papers to his students. Amaya smiled at him, basically giving him a knowing smirk. Holy shit, he feels blackmailed by a 6-year-old. 
She has no idea that Bucky and her mom are on a talking stage, but that doesn’t stop her from smirking at her teacher, who her mom has told her auntie that her teacher was cute. And that was enough for her already planning your wedding where she gets to be a flower girl. 
 Bucky sat down at his desk when he felt his phone vibrate. The notification had your name on it, almost making Bucky jump out of his seat. 
Hey, one of my clients canceled for Friday. U wanna get that coffee? 
Bucky couldn’t seem to write yes faster. He felt so happy, but shit, what was he going to wear? His closet comprises of henleys and sweaters. The occasional tank tops are there, but they weren’t the norm. He dresses like a middle-aged librarian, and he is proud of it. But, on the other hand, maybe he was overthinking it.
“Dude, it’s a coffee date. Not a Michelin restaurant.” Steve rolls his eyes at Bucky’s rant. Bucky told his best friends about inner turmoil and why he was so stressed. Sam just laughed at him.
“We don’t know about that one Rogers; she is a fancy lawyer for a fancy firm. She’s probably making the big bucks.” Sam winked at Bucky, which made him feel even more stressed. 
What if they dated, and she felt embarrassed to show him to her lawyer friends? He is on a New York Public school salary, it’s a miracle he has enough money to live alone, but he was going to be rooming with Steve. 
“Sam, stop torturing him, please. I can see the smoke coming out of his ears.” Wanda explained, heating up her lunch and smirking at her extremely stressed friend. 
“He is just so fun to mess with.”Sam whined while Bucky couldn’t help but scoff. 
“I am glad my suffering is your enjoyment, but I am about to run away to New Jersey and live as a hermit because I haven’t been on a date since college, and I have no fucking clue what to wear. Help me.” Bucky rambles, almost out of breath. Sam bites back a chuckle while Steve just looks worried. Wanda sighs; being the only person with brain cells in the teacher’s lounge is difficult.
“Bucky, wear that brown blazer you wore at my engagement party. Maybe a blue henley underneath. You did say she thought you looked hot in those, so who cares, honestly. “ Wanda Maximoff, the voice of reason to these messy elementary school teachers once again. 
Bucky should stop asking these things to Sam and Steve and just ask go directly to Wanda. 
(Y/N) wasn't doing that great either. She really liked Bucky; he was a hot guy but caring and smart. He made her laugh with his dorky quotes and references. He was well-read and gave her excellent book recommendations. 
More importantly, Amaya loved him. Every day she would show up rambling about something he had done in class that made her very happy. Whether it was telling her a funny story using Mister Bear, Bucky’s teaching assistant that Amaya adored, or handing her a fruit roll-up when the other kids weren't looking. Bucky was her favorite teacher, but it mostly felt like he had taken a father role that she needed.
One thing that made her stress out was how she was perceived. She had been on dates before, and every time the men went home running with their tails between their legs after feeling threatened by her confidence and career. 
Being a single mother and a powerful lawyer really fucked over her chances of dating. Apparently, knowing your worth and what you want doesn’t make you that appealing to men, especially these insecure, fragile masculinity-having assholes. 
But Bucky seemed different; he knew she had a kid and an influential career and still wanted to date her? He was different. 
“You still overthinking this date?” Her coworker and close friend, Jen, asked her. Nat rolled her eyes, knowing (Y/N) like the back of her hand. 
“She has been making a pros and cons list on her computer for the past hour. Girl, he likes you. No grown man texts you romantic quotes at 3 am without sending a you up? Text.” Natasha rambles but (Y/N) sighs. She knows what Nat is saying is correct, but still… She didn’t want to make things awkward for ‘Maya. 
“She has it really bad, but he seems so sweet. It’s just a coffee date; get to know him in person.” Jen tried to comfort her. She patted her shoulder, sorta giving (Y/N) a side hug. 
“Now on to date outfits. I say a plaid skirt and a sweater. The skimpiest skirt you have.” Nat grins evilly. 
“It’s a coffee date, not a hookup.” (Y/N) laughs at her suggestion. 
“Whatever you say, but that man’s shoulders are so broad that it wouldn’t be surprising if your legs were on them after the night.” Nat shrugs, but (Y/N) and Jenn laugh at the sexual joke. 
“I am trying not to give Maya a sibling yet.” (Y/N) threw a piece of paper at Nat. 
“Yet is the keyword in that sentence.” Nat winked at her comment. 
Bucky was shifting his weight on the chair. They had decided to meet at this cute little café that opened about a month ago. It was right next to a bookstore that Bucky loved so much, and coincidently (Y/N) took Amaya a lot to get her story time books. 
“Sorry I am late; traffic was horrible.” Bucky swore his breath was stolen from his chest because the minute he saw her, he felt like his lungs didn’t have air. 
“I- uhm, I get it. You look beautiful, by the way.” (Y/N) smiled at his compliment while sitting right before him. 
“You don’t look bad yourself.” She winked at the teacher, who started sweating bullets once she began to compliment him. 
“Are you ready to order?” The waitress asks the couple. (Y/N) nods while Bucky just looks puzzled at the menu. She smiled at him.
“Give us a minute, please.” (Y/N) said kindly. 
“Do you have any idea what you are going to order? If you don’t mind me asking?” Bucky asks sheepishly, but the woman just smiles. 
“I am dying to try this plum strudel, especially since Maya isn’t here to steal my pieces. And I need a milkshake.” (Y/N) explained; Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.
“Amaya is a bit of a sugar fiend, isn’t she? I can’t even eat my fruits in peace without her looking at me as if I stole them from her.” Bucky joked, (Y/N) rolled her eyes because she knew her daughter.
“It’s not a shocker. It’s practically my fault. When I was pregnant with her, all I did was eat candy. I have a sweet tooth, but she’s like a sugar monster.” She explained, reminiscing all the pregnancy cravings she had. Bucky laughed at her comment. 
“You sure you don’t want coffee?” Bucky asks all of a sudden. Finding it weird that she is ordering a milkshake at a café. She shook her head.
“Oh god, no. It would be my 5th coffee this day. I’ve had back-to-back meetings, and every meeting has a coffee run. Then there’s the coffee between every 15-page contract I have to write.” Bucky chuckles because that seems like he is the same in a completely different way. 
“I get you. After grading my 10th paper, I’ve already drank 3 cups of coffee. My record is 7 in one day. I was planning on getting the milkshake too.” Bucky joked, (Y/N) laughed. 
“So we are two coffee addicts on a coffee date, but we aren’t gonna drink any coffee. Got it.” (Y/N) smirked at Bucky. He felt his ears getting red. Suck it up, Bucky; she hasn’t even said anything sexual. She is just being funny. Bucky said to himself. 
“It appears that we are. I hope you don’t mind, but I’mma order the same thing as you. I love plums. My ma makes the best plum pie I’ve ever eaten.” Bucky rambled, trying to stop himself from buckling under her gaze. Suddenly (Y/N)’s phone rings. 
“Hey MJ, what’s up? Oh what? I am on my way.” (Y/N) hangs up, her face turns somber, and her eyes are filled with tears. 
“I am so sorry, Bucky, but I have to go. Amaya fell, and the babysitter told me she won't stop crying. Her arm might be broken, and I must take her to the hospital.”  She says, gathering up her purse. She was shaking, trying to stand up, but her legs were shaking. Bucky stands up to help her. 
“Can you drive?” (Y/N) shook her head, worried because Amaya was always careful. She runs around like any normal kid but is ultra-cautious about getting hurt. Bucky extended his hand, and she grabbed it. 
She gave him the directions to her house so Bucky could drive her home. She hadn’t really said anything during the entire ride; Bucky didn’t know what to do, so he did what he did best. Ramble on.
“You know I broke my arm around the same age. But mine was in a fight.” Bucky said, which got (Y/N)’s attention. 
“Back when we were kids, Steve was the smallest kid in our classroom, and there was this kid named Tom; he kept pushing him and making fun of him. So one day, I stood up for him and decided I could fight Tom. I should mention that Tom was 2 grades above us, so anyway, he pushed me so hard that I fell. Broke my arm and wasn’t allowed to go to recess anymore. My teacher, Sally, knew that Tom was a bully and got me a lesser sentence.” Bucky told her. She smiled.
“So you were a troublemaker as a kid. Kinda like my ‘Maya.” She joked, smiling, talking about her little girl. 
“Oh, Amaya is a little angel in comparison to me. She is manipulative as hell, but she’s a sweet kid. Takes after her mom.” Bucky complimented. (Y/N) sighed at his compliment. 
“I tried my best. It’s not easy, you know. Being a single mom. Sometimes I think I don’t do enough and that I am never there, but-” 
“Listen, I have been a teacher for a while now. I have seen parents who don’t care and never show up for their kids. You aren’t one of them. I know for a fact that every Wednesday, you take her to a museum or an interactive place. You are her person, and I think you are a fantastic mom. “ Bucky interrupts. He grabs her hand, and she squeezes it. Bucky parks in front of her house. Her big ass house. He keeps forgetting that she is, in fact, a well-paid lawyer. 
Amaya did indeed have a broken arm. Bucky had to carry her to the car and into the hospital. He even sat with her when she was getting her X-ray while (Y/N) talked with the doctors. 
“I wish all dads were like you.  You really made this a lot easier for her.” The nurse said, looking directly at Bucky, who was holding a very tired Amaya. Bucky felt his ears getting warm. 
“I’m not her dad.” The nurse scoffed at Bucky’s correction. 
“Could’ve fooled me with how she’s so attached to you.” She noted. (Y/N) walked into the room with the doctor.
“Hey, ‘Maya.” The little girl in Bucky’s arms stirred at the sound of her mom’s soothing voice. (Y/N)’s eyes were puffy, probably from crying at seeing her baby in pain. Bucky wanted to hug her and Amaya, but he couldn’t really move with a child in his arms with a broken arm. 
“The doctor needs you to sit on the little table over there to check you out.” (Y/N) said, which caused Amaya to slightly shake her head and grip Bucky’s arm with her non-broken hand. (Y/N) looked at Bucky in the eyes, almost pleading with him to help. 
“Amaya, if you sit there, you’ll get to take Mister Bear for the entire month.” Bucky wasn’t new to bribing kids, it’s sometimes the last resort, but Bucky knew how much Amaya loved Mister Bear. The little girl smiled weakly and turned to look at her doctor. (Y/N) smiled at Bucky, she mouthed him a thank you. Bucky was sure his cheeks were glowing red.
“Please, Mister Bucky, sign my cast.” Amaya said, giving him a pen to sign her super bright pink cast. Finally, she calmed down after they put the cast on her, and she got to pick a color. Then, they returned to (Y/N)’s house, where MJ, the babysitter, was still in the place, worried for little Maya.
Bucky laughed, signing his name on her cast and adding a roughly made butterfly. Amaya giggled at the butterfly. Bucky didn’t even notice (Y/N) walking towards them. 
“How are we gonna do the custody for Mister Bear?” She asks, noticing that Amaya is walking towards MJ so she would sign her cast. 
“Well, I use it as a teaching tool, so I have to have it during the day.” Bucky explained. (Y/N) nodded.
“And I can’t pick up Maya this week because I am in court all day.” She added. 
“I can bring him over after work if you want. “ Bucky suggests. (Y/N) extends her hand for Bucky to shake it. 
“I can agree to that, Mr. Barnes.” She said, smiling at Bucky. 
Bucky could die right now, and he would be happy. But who would’ve known that a ruined date could be saved by a shared custody agreement of a teddy bear with a 6-year-old? 
For the past week, Bucky brought Mister Bear for Amaya to play with. After giving the girl the bear, he wouldn’t leave the house. Oh no, no. (Y/N) would give him food, and he would even eat dinner with them. They talked for hours about shows, movies, their childhoods, and just everything they could think of with a glass of wine. Amaya would go to bed, and they would stay up talking, even if they had to wake up early. 
Bucky and (Y/N) had told Amaya that he was staying over for dinner in exchange for Mister Bear because saying, “Hey, mama and your teacher like each other a lot, but you can’t tell anyone” is too much for a 6-year-old. 
What they didn’t count for was that Amaya was too smart for her own good. She knew it was strange that Bucky stayed for dinner and that her mom would wear her “special” perfume whenever Mister Bucky came over. So is this how she’s gonna get a dad? And all she had to do was break her arm. 
Bucky was talking to Steve when Amaya approached him with a book. Both men turned their attention to the little girl with the bright pink cast. 
“Mister Bucky, Mister Bear and I want to read this book tonight. Could you bring it over later?” Steve’s eyes widened, and he turned to his best friend, bewildered by the revelation made by the kid. 
Bucky nodded, trying not to speak because he felt like Steve would have a heart attack if he had verbal confirmation that he was going to (Y/N)’s house every day. 
“James Buchannan Barnes, are you sleeping with your student’s mom?”Steve whisper-s creamed once Amaya was out of hearing range. 
“I am not sleeping with her… We just eat dinner together, and I bring Mister Bear for Amaya. It’s our custody agreement.” Bucky tried to explain, but Steve looked like the vein on his forehead would pop. 
“Fuck Bucky, you are in deep shit now,” Steve whispered. Wait until Bucky tells him he is utterly in love with his student’s mom. Oh shit, what?
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The Iceman Cometh - Dean x Reader
“The Iceman Cometh” - Dean x Reader
Rating Mature
Dean x Reader
Tags: Sweaty Dean, Turning Up The Heat, Ice Play, Mild Smut, Nipple Play, I Will Again Be Accused of Blue-Balling
Word Count: 1700
You normally love a sticky, slippery, and sweaty Dean. But, this. This is pushing it.
I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "Ice-play" square.
A/N: I just wanted to mix things up and write something short and fun.
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Image created in Canva (photo used/found online: Facebook - Una Vida SPN)
You normally love a sticky, slippery, and sweaty Dean. But, this. This is pushing it.
“I’m sorry, what?” Dean fists his hands leaning on the motel office counter.
“AC’s out in the only room I got left!” The old lady with coke bottle glasses and Wilma Flinstone pearls repeats herself. Her cigarette-laced voice is scratchy and a couple squeaks higher this time.
You groan. Dean side-eyes you but doesn’t turn his head to acknowledge the irritation.
“It’s 100 degrees out. We get some kinda discount for pain and suffering?” he asks.
“I’ll knock ten bucks off the bill.”
“Ten bucks?” You huff out an incredulous chuckle.
“We’ll take it.”
Before you can yell at him, Dean’s already slapped a credit card on the counter.
~~~~~
Of course, this had to be the first motel with a vacancy during the two-hour trek through the Nevada desert region.
The hotbox of a room smells of mildew, cigarettes, and vinegar. You plod through the humidity and stale stench. Every bit of odor clings to your perspiring skin so there’s no escaping it. Dean curses as he taps buttons and thumbs dials on the window air conditioner, just to verify it's inoperable. You drop your bag on the bed and beeline to the bathroom. 
Dean needs a shower more than you. He was the one who wrestled and skewered a ghoul in a sacred burial ground. But you’re gonna be salty about his decision to stop. You’d wanted to keep going, offering to share driving duties. Who cares if neither one of you had slept in over 24 hours? 
Your pants are around your ankles in a second. The loose porcelain bowl seesaws under your weight. Regardless, you sigh in relief, weeing out all the water you’ve been guzzling to stay hydrated. 
The rap of Dean’s knuckles on the bathroom door interrupts your steady stream of piss. “I’m gonna grab somethin’ at the diner we passed.” Dean’s second preferred method of appeasing you is feeding you. “Be back as soon as I can. Save me some COLD water, baby.” 
A hard tug of the motel door seconds later rattles the paint-by-numbers sagebrush framed on the wall behind the toilet. 
Dean left without taking your food order. You grind your teeth.
~~~~~
Forty minutes pass before the familiar engine rumbles into the lot and headlights flash through the sheer curtains.
The diner was a good fifteen minutes away, one-way, if Dean had been going the speed limit. The Impala’s warp speed must have been activated for him to have actually ordered and brought back dinner. Your stomach somersaults with distress and hunger pangs.
Dean opens the door only to hover within the threshold, a human doorstop.
You’re in a tank top and boy shorts. The best thing you could use to fan yourself is a file folder Sam stuffed with case material before you and Dean left Kansas.
Dean stretches and drops the bag of takeout on the nearby kitchenette table. He eyes you with a frown. “I’m sorry it’s shit in here. I’d say we could sleep in Baby, but it’s worse outside. Seriously.”
You’re laid atop the bed stripped of its scratchy and threadbare comforter, which is now a heap on the floor. “You know, all the times you’ve had to put that car back together again piece by piece; maybe one of those times you could have installed some air conditioning.”
He raises a finger to signal you should wait for something impressive. He dips half his body back outside, foot holding the door open. There’s bumping and huffing. Then the green cooler appears, held triumphantly in his hands. “I brought ice! Waitress at the diner sold me pounds of the stuff.” He’s sensibly in only a t-shirt, having left his duffle and jacket in the room when he’d left earlier. 
“The iceman cometh.” The eyeroll is excessive, but you can’t seem to not.
“Eat, grumpy. My turn for a shower.”
~~~~~
He crunches ice chips. You suck on one cube, swirling it from one cheek pocket to the other until it melts, and then repeat with another. Forearm to forearm, you both sprawl out on the queen-sized mattress. You snapped at him earlier about the heat the boob tube would create. He stews alongside your percolating tension. You’ve allowed the bathroom light to stay on. A yellow fluorescent haze slices from the open door and spills over Dean.
There’s no escape from the heat.
“Pulse points,” he mutters.
“Right,” you snip. Your hand scoops ice out of your red solo cup. You circle a cube along your inner wrist.
There’s a shake from his side of the bed. You glance over. He’s shirtless, clad only in his boxers, rubbing ice up and down the back of his neck. Which only pisses you off more.
This hunt was supposed to end days ago. You were supposed to be celebrating your anniversary at the bunker today. You had some fun times planned. A surprise dinner of all Dean’s favorites and a movie marathon in the Dean Cave.
“I’m sorry,” you and Dean mumble simultaneously.
“We’ll get back on the road soon, sweetheart. I was spent and seeing double. Even if I can’t sleep, it’ll help just not being in motion.”
“I’ve been a major bitch.” You laugh at Dean’s deer-in-headlights reaction to your admission. “You don’t have to agree or disagree on that count, babe. You know how I get when shit doesn’t go according to plan. And, this fucking heat is not helping.”
“We both pop our tops an equal amount. That’s what makes us perfect for each other.” The backs of two of his fingers skim your elbow.
“Except when we both blow up at the same time.”
“Nah, that’s even better. Then we get to have angry make-up sex.”
You whoop out a laugh. “That’s never happened.”
“It could now?”
You grin. “But I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at everything else.”
He shrugs. “Take it out on me, then.” He reconsiders. “Or, let me cool you down?”
It’s your turn to raise a brow.
Dean grins. He tips his head way back with the cup to his lips. He shakes his hand and the ice crackles. Cup back in his lap, you spot one cheek puffed out like a chipmunk. His face crinkles up.
“You’re gonna give yourself brain freeze, idiot.”
“Worth it,” he mumbles.
His lips lean in to press a kiss. You giggle at Dean’s clumsy attempt with a mouthful of ice. A surprised squeal follows when he slips an ice cube between pursed lips to run across yours. He pulls back and smiles, crooked and unhinged. He plops the cubes into his cup sounding like a penny slot machine and sits it on his side table. 
He pulls you in close for a kiss, expertly grabbing your cup from your hands. You can’t be bothered to care where he hides it.
His tongue is so cool. A popsicle with a mind of its own that you want to suck on for days. He’s very agreeable to the way your lips wrap around it. He moans. You love the particular sound of that one. It strains out of his throat. Thankful. Relaxed.
He’s fiddling with more ice, having wedged your cup between two pillows. “You’re always so hot,” he quips after you relinquish his tongue.
You skim one leg between his thighs. The skin contact is tacky and sticky. “You’re always so cheesy.”
“Not always,” Dean says with a smirk. “In this instance, I’m just stating a fact.”
You hiccup a gasp at the ice cube he presses to your wrist without warning.
Dean glides it slow, a serpentine slither, to the crook of your elbow. He swirls the spot and lets it melt and drip from your body to the sheets. His green eyes concentrate on the task. 
You can’t help but lose yourself watching him. His body shimmers in a sheen of sweat. Every minute shift highlights the beautiful angles of his face. Perspiration beads up under the hairline of his forehead. You can’t resist kissing and sipping at his upper lip. He grins and returns the gesture.
He uses another piece of ice to continue upward to your shoulder. He traces the shoulder strap of your tank. A hop over it and he’s sliding down the outline of your collar. It’s a quick ride into your cleavage where he lets the remnants melt and add to the already damp material.
His tongue laps at the wetness that’s collected there. You sigh and lean back. He hums and kisses the curve of your breast, slides the strap down, and then nuzzles into the notch of your armpit.
After a few seconds, he rises up in order to gaze into your eyes with the most innocent of expressions; even though he’s freed one of your tits from the confines of your clothing.
More ice rattles by your ear like maracas.
You’re in trouble.
You purse your lips at the biting cold against your neck. It’s electrifying and refreshing. He outlines your collarbone back and forth for emphasis. A shift and he’s leaning beside you, up on one elbow to drink in the sight. One leg drapes over yours, locking you into place. You feel the growing bulge in his boxers. There’s no escaping what he has in store.
He juggles two cubes between his fingers and journeys along the crest of your breast. He’s grinning with mischief and lust now. Then his mouth parts when the ice meets your nipple. Your flesh hardens and tightens on contact. You groan. Your core clenches.
He gnaws on his bottom lip as he circles the dark pebbling bud. Air squeaks out of your mouth. You squirm. It’s a beautiful freeze burn of contrast.
Once the ice melts, his fingers, also chilled, take over kneading and pinching. His patience gone, he bends down and latches onto your cool tit. He nurses with that sinful mouth and grazes your nipple with tongue and teeth until your skin tingles back to life.
You are so out of your head with the noises he’s making and the show he’s putting on, that you're ill-prepared for his cold fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts.
You shriek giggle, “Dean!”
He ends his sucking with a loud pop. He whispers against your lips, “Happy Anniversary, sweetheart.”
~~~~~
Update: Got inspired and filled another bingo square with these two. You can read "Just A Little Spice" here.
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wekiamo · 2 years
Text
still love you pt. 2
heyy finally part 2! 😭 sorry for the wait. anyways i’m glad y’all like the fic! reblogs are appreciated and requests are totally welcome!
warnings: swearing, murdering, stabbing, blood, fluff! if something’s missing tell me in the comments
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you screamed.
“[NAME], NO!” tara screamed even louder than you did. she started to cry even more. you couldn’t die, you and sam were one of the most important things in her life. you were always there for her and she was always there for you, you both had some kind of sister connection. you always had so much fun, you loved deep conversations - actually, you loved anything that made you spend more time with each other. you could never lose her and she could never lose you. was she losing you right now? that’s one thing she would NEVER want in her life, ever.
while tara was still screaming for your name, denying that you were dead, sam had covered her mouth and started sobbing. sam couldn’t even think of ever losing you, that she’d panic. she can’t imagine a life without your jokes, without cooking a new recipe with you every day with the same playlist going on, without crying on your shoulder and you crying on hers, without holding hands with you everytime she gets nervous.
“her screams were way better than i thought, i bet you had your fun, huh? great job, son” bailey praised as ethan came back from the dark room, alone.
ethan nodded and smirked in response.
“we were having a little fun. wanna join?” quinn asked, walking to stand beside sam and tara so he could see them - sam with blood in her arms and tara with blood in her cheeks.
“no thanks, i think we’ve had fun enough, haven’t we?” the tall boy looked at his father, then his sister, making bailey nod - quinn was not satisfied at all, she wanted to tease and hurt them more before actually killing them, but she tilted her head in agreement.
“so, tara” bailey started, walking towards the girl whose expression was totally readable - a mixed feeling of anger and sadness. “how do you want to die? would you rather get stabbed in the mouth, the neck, the eye-“
“fuck you” she said almost whispering between sobs.
“oh you liked the last option, tara? wanna be stabbed in the eye?” he chuckled. “fine”.
tara could not stop crying. it was just all too much for her.
“what about you, sam? how do you want to die?” quinn looked at the girl, tilting her head
she didn’t respond, she only stared. she looked at each one of them, starting with tara, then bailey, then quinn, and stopped at ethan.
“motherfucker you don’t even have the RIGHT to ignore my questions” quinn yelled at sam then slapped her hard.
oh how sam wanted to jump on her and make her scream so loudly that anyone in this city could hear, but she couldn’t. not right now. sam was getting more and more out of control - if she could get away with this situation, she’d kill them, ALL OF THEM, brutally.
“how do you think it was to get a phone call and acknowledge that my son was fucking murdered? huh?” bailey grabbed sam by her neck roughly, making the girl unable to breathe “he died in YOUR hands. now you’re going to fucking pay for this and for all we’ve suffered” he got his hands off of her
“he was crazy, him and his pathetic girlfriend went on a killing spree because of a FUCKING MOVIE. he was so useless he didn’t even get to kill more than one person ” sam laughed “he deserved to die. but you guys are all insane too, just like him”
“ENOUGH” quinn raised her arm with her knife, about to stab sam’s neck when you stepped in
“get the fuck away from her. NOW” you said, pointing a gun to her, holding it with both of your hands. you were far from them.
“what the fuck?” ethan turned to you, looking genuinely confused.
“[name], you’re alive!” tara said with a tone of relief in a slight grin, unable to completely smile due to what’s happening now
“you’re just like your brother, aren’t you,you little shit?” sam asked not waiting for a response, looking at ethan “thank god you’re alive, [name]. you’re just in time” she continued
“what the fuck is happening here, isn’t she supposed to be dea- HEY” tara took the knife out of quinn’s hands and grabbed her by the shoulder, stabbing her in the chest. “what happened quinn? why so quiet, bitch?” tara teased. “i’m gonna fuck you up” quinn said, falling down to the floor quickly.
“weapons down, bailey” now you were pointing the gun to him
sam was gone. you didn’t mind where she was going, because you knew well she was coming back for her revenge.
you were now getting closer and closer to bailey, gun still pointed at him. “lost another poor little baby, didn’t you?” bailey’s face was covered in fear, and he didn’t know what to do now. “how sad is that?” you teased him, pouting your lips
“you’re going to pay for everything. first richie and then quinn? double the price now” he said, looking obviously furious by seeing another child of him get killed, but this time right in front of him. that made him even more angry
“oh, am i? how?”
“behind you, kid”
you did not even turn to see what was going on behind you, but you could hear someone’s steps getting closer and closer.
bailey started smiling like a crazy psychopath. well, he was one. “it’s over for you now” he said, and you turned your head to see someone in a ghostface costume standing beside you.
“no, i think its over for you.”
“what-”
in no time, he was getting stabbed everywhere. arms, legs, chest…
repeatedly. and he didn’t stop screaming in pain. he was screaming like a fucking baby. not he knows what it feels like to be stabbed in his own skin. that goes on for almost a whole minute.
until it stops. and the person in the ghostface costume unmasks - sam.
“my dad is a serial killer. but you know, i’m better than this”
“thank you, thank you” bailey, still alive somehow, thanked sam with blood visible all over his body. it even made you pity him for a second, seeing him all bloody.
tara was now standing beside you too. she gave sam a look you didn’t really understand at first, then tilted her head.
“i think you liked that last option more than tara did” sam said before stabbing him in the eye. now you understood. she got her revenge, once again. she had a relieved look in her face, and you did too.
“cool” tara said with a slight grin, once again.
suddenly, quinn got up and started running in your direction. you quickly turned to ethan and threw your gun at his hands, and
ethan shot quinn in the head.
“aw man, i wanted to do it this time again” tara said in frustration, remembering how she shot amber
“ethan, you’re with us?”
“yes, and i’m so sorry for everything - i was forced to do everything and i tried to convince them not to do any of this, but it wasn’t my choice.” the boy said, frowning “please trust me”
sam and tara looked at each other, then they looked at you”
“i guess it’s true girls, we can trust him”
ethan smiled softly, getting closer to the three of you.
“why did you kill anika? and chad? you could’ve told quinn and bailey you didn’t get to kill anika and chad, and let them go” tara said still mad and untrustful of him
“i didn’t kill anika. that was my dad, and again, im very sorry. about chad, i dont think he’s dead. i was very careful with the knife”
“are you sure?”
“yes. we can go look for him”
“you’re not the ethan we know. where’s the super awkward ‘am i gonna die a virgin’ weirdo?” sam asked and they all laughed.
you looked at him, he looked down at you.
he grabbed you by the chin and leaned in to kiss you. it was passionate and genuine. you felt comfortable in his touch and started playing with his perfect curly hair - someting you knew he loved - and still seems to love.
“i love you, [name]. i’m sorry you had to go through all of this”
“i love you too ethan” you said, kissing him back.
“ew. anyways, let’s go and look for chad!” tara said, and sam followed.
you and ethan were still kissing. for a moment, you forgot how much of a good kisser he was.
“you’re still good at this” you said, pulling away from the kiss
“i know, honey” he joked, and you both laughed. “now let’s go with them”
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