#But I don’t make gifs and also don’t want to suffer through the bay movies again

[daphnedanvers]

DANVER'S RESIDENCE || @dancingdanvers

"Think you can manage some hot cocoa? ” Daphne’s voice was off as she rapped on her daughters bedroom door, knowing her anxiety from the storm she opted to try and get a little something in her system. Daphne had tried to leave her be to rest and process but in all honesty she’d been hovering since the storm. She more than anyone knew how dangerous severe weather could be and not knowing where her child was during one of the worse storms Aurora bay had seen in years still had the meteorologist rattled. She’d wrapped her up in a fierce hug when they were reunited and hadn’t let her go the whole night, going so far as to make her sleep in her bed. She knew Solane had been equally terrified and hearing what she’d been subjected too while holed up at the lounge had her blood boiling and her heart aching. How dare that woman say those things to her baby and what she’d been put through. Salone had suffered enough lately she didn’t that on top. She had some choice words for her and for Axel when she ran into them next. “How’s my little gem feeling, today? Is it a Disney movies day or do you think you might feel up to a little walk on the beach. I’ll even brush and braid your hair. I don’t want you to let what they said get to you, your not any of those things; you know. I also came to warn you, the men just arrived to lay the new hardwood where the water damage from the storm was so it may get a little loud so your beauty sleep is gonna have to wait. "

[ithebookhoarder]

Your sleepy head canons for the SW trio were adorable! Can I pretty please ask what the original star wars babies would be like with a sick reader? I just need some cuteness in my life right now and I'm rewatching the movies so yeah...

A/N: Um, yes you can! One fluffy dose of OG star wars coming up. 

Star Wars (Head-canons): Dealing with a sick reader

Masterlist:

Han:

This man is a marshmallow on the inside, even if years alone in the smuggling game has ensured that it’s deeply hidden away beneath that stoicism and devil-may-care attitude. 

You are one of the only people in the entire galaxy he lets see his softer side, whether it’s his casual affection during the day on the Falcon, or his little thoughtful gestures like fetching you caff when you’re flying or working your ass off on repairs. 

It’s why he’s actually rather sweet to you when you’re sick, ordering Chewie to take over whatever you were meant to be doing so you can get some rest.

“Han. I’m fine. It’s just a sniffle. I’ll live.”

“I know that, princess, but I don’t need you breaking my ship because you’re too busy coughing and sneezing to see what wires you’re tinkering with.”

You laugh, knowing his sass is his way of hiding the worry that’s brewing inside of him at the sight of you coughing and spluttering around the place. So, you surrender your tools to him and allow him to help you back to your quarters. It’s that or letting him drag you there over his shoulder, like some kind of deranged caveman. 

Once you get to your room, you half expect him to leave you there to fend for yourself, but you’re surprised to see him hovering around you, already working out a list of supplies. 

“You should lie down. I’ll grab ya some of that fancy tea you like so damn much.”

“Thanks, hon.”

“Do you need anything else? What about some more blankets? Some pillows? I can grab Chewie’s. He doesn’t need it-“

Who knew Han Solo could be such a secret mother hen?

Turns out, with all his travels, he knows a thing or two about fending off a cold. It’s actually rather cute. 

You’re too busy trying not to laugh to say no as he hurries about the place and effectively builds you a nest in your shared quarters. He’s also glued to your side, leaving his Wookie first mate in charge while he sees to your every need, even if it’s just holding you while you sleep off whatever it is that’s taken you down.  

“I told you you needed a better coat on that planet but nooo your stubborn ass said you didn’t need one.”

“Han. Stop. I didn’t catch this cold there.”

“Where else would you have caught it?”

“Things just happen. It’s ok.”

Han definitely doesn’t think it’s ok, but he doesn’t want to tire you out for arguing over something dumb. You’re just as stubborn as he is and arguments between you two have been known to go on for days sometimes. 

Instead, he agrees to disagree for now. As long as you rest and get better then everything else doesn’t matter. 

However, the next time you plan to leave the ship he just so happens to be waiting by the ramp, a thick, chunky coat in his hand. And a hat. And gloves. 

He grins and presses a kiss to your frowning face as you waddle out, almost suffocating but willing to endure for his sake and as a thank you for all his care the past week.

You also make a mental note to repay the favour next time he gets a little under the weather. You’re sure Chewie would enjoy the sight of his captain haggling with clients, while swaddled in knitwear. 

Luke:

Coming from a desert planet, Luke doesn’t know too much about handling things like colds. He’s more used to handling dehydration, sunburn, malnutrition or even the odd blaster wound or two from Jawas.

However, once joining the Rebellion, he learns pretty quickly after being struck down with surprising regularity. He’s an old friend to  colds and other conditions common on other planets and in space. 

That’s actually how he meets you, always being ordered to stop by the Med Bay by Leia the minute he starts sneezing. 

“I don’t need you spreading the plague, Luke,” she sighs, ushering him over to you and ordering him to let you take care of him. “You may be some mighty Jedi but even Jedis get sick.” 

You actually enjoy getting to spend time with Luke when he’s sick, and sharing your knowledge about cures and ways to avoid catching diseases in the first place. Luke also enjoys listening to you, admiring how clever you are and how kind, and careful, you are when handling patients. 

Thus, when you eventually get sick, he’s only too eager to return the favour. It’s time for him to take care of you, even if he knows you’re perfectly capable of doing it yourself. 

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should, Y/N. Let me help you. Please?”

You smile, agreeing as he takes up residence at your bedside for the next few days. Turns out, he actually has a tender bedside manner, and is incredibly good at keeping you distracted when you get fed up of being on bedrest. 

He’s also incredibly aware of changes in mood or your condition, sensing them through the force before you even do. Hence why he’s by your side the moment you take a bad turn, despite him being half way across the base for training.

If he’s out of breath then that’s just a coincidence cause nooooo, he didn’t run here. No. He was right outside and just so happened to be coming in when you needed him most. 

“Luke? What the-?”

“Here. I brought soup and some more pain killers from the med bay.” 

You take his offerings, grinning in delight as the smell of food hits your nose. “Hmm, my saviour.”

His smile is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen as is his blushing cheeks. “I’m just taking care of you. Who else is going to nurse me back to health next time I’m the one who’s sick?”

“Anything for my favourite farm-boy.” 

“Your farm-boy.”

His kiss as he settles in bed beside you is almost enough to make you feel better all on its own. 

Leia:

Like mother, like daughter, this woman is a public servant. She may also be a workaholic, but she has her priorities in order and you come before whatever meetings or plans she has for the day.

In fact, the first time you got sick and didn’t tell her, she was hurt. It was C3-PO that had outed you, saying something about you being in your rooms and unable to join in the meeting scheduled that morning when asked where you were. (You knew you shouldn’t have trusted that golden tin can) 

Leia had been on you in seconds, bursting in your room and yelling at you for a whole hour about how stupid it was to suffer in silence. 

“We have medical staff, Y/N, for this exact reason! You’d rather lie here in pain, suffering, when you could have called someone? Or even me? Don’t tell me you’ve been around Han too much, Maker knows I don’t need two stubborn idiots on this base.”

“I love you too, Your Majesty.”

“Shut up or I’ll tell threepio to come and watch you.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” 

She would dare, but you were more than happy to put up with the lecture, however, given that she was busy wiping at your brow and tucking you in whilst yelling. That, and you had enough of a headache without threepio making worse. 

It felt rather surreal to think you had royalty waiting on you hand and foot - even if Leia would have yelled again if you said that to her face. She loved you more than anything and made sure to tell you at least once a day. She wasn’t just a princess, she was your partner and that was all that mattered. 

Needless to say, you’d learnt your lesson; whenever you got sick again, you made sure to let Leia know you weren’t feeling great. 

That way she could make sure to keep an eye on you, or assign someone to do so when she was dragged from your side for some super urgent meeting she couldn’t avoid any longer. 

“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Leia. Go. You’re needed. I can survive an hour or so without you, but we all know this base won’t if you don’t get your ass over to mission control.” 

“You have a good point.” 

You chuckle as she steals a kiss before hurrying off to her duties. By the time you wake up from your nap, she’s back again and curled up next to you, watching you out of the corner of her eye whilst she works on the pad in her lap. 

She also sings you little lullabies when you’re sick and can’t sleep. They’re all songs her parents sang to her whenever she got sick as a kid. That alone makes you feel better, sharing something so private with her. 

Long story short, you may hate being sick, but you don’t hate being sick with Leia around to love and care for you. 

[cybernaght]

Lost Tomb Reboot aka Reunion: The Sound of Providence Season 2

I swear I wasn’t actually planning to write this thing, instead just opting for random picture spams of the season, starting with every time this show got Zhu Yilong’s Wu Xie wet, because that was a trend I had not expected and kind of lived for.

All that will still happen eventually, but here’s also my five cents on the season, because it is very very important for you to know just how worthy of love it is. 

You see, Season 1 was silly and fun, and definitely, undeniably, enjoyable. 

Then Season 2 swooped in, and completely won my heart. I cannot even express how much I adored it. Everything about this show is extremely extra in the best possible way; it is likely to have been the most charmingly over the top thing I have ever seen.

(Vague spoilers for : specific monsters, narratively significant moments, fate of the certain characters, including the protagonist.)

Some of it comes from the pace, which speeds up dramatically early in the season, and only slows down marginally to allow characters some breathing room. It’s not just gripping because it makes you want to hit play on the next episode, it also keeps you engaged because you can’t wait to see how the next wild set of events may be resolved and then topped. At about episode ten I was questioning how they could possibly produce a sense of further escalation. At episode twenty, I was wondering if anything can top dramatic impact of whatever was occurring only two thirds of the way through the season. 

I need not have worried: every single incredible character moment, every mind-boggling turn of the plot, every single bizarre threat would be blown out of water by the next one. 

Partly, this seemingly has to do with the writers attempts to ground the material. I am not sure what the novel contained, but I can discern that it was something along the lines of ghosts, ghouls and various supernatural circumstance. But when you are told  “this is a curse”, your reaction is naturally to go, “ah okay, so curses are a thing, and this is one of them, gotcha”. When you are told, “this is a heavy metal poisoning combined with a neurotoxin affecting the victim’s central nervous system and making them violently hallucinate”, your reaction is to question whether this is how metals, toxins, poisons, or, indeed, central nervous systems work in any version of reality. 

The show does this a lot. From human shaped swarms of killer moths, to flying brain-penetrating eels, to probably my favourite monster of the moment: the murder clams.

Seriously, I cannot stress enough that this show has murder clams. They move with their clam mussels. They jump with their clam shells. They will murder you in cold blood. 

There are ancient “laser corridor” style set-ups, there are shapes made out of fog recording its memory, there are group hallucinations generated by the sound of thunder, there are Mission Impossible style full face masks. There is a character who walked off a gun wound and sarin gas poisoning in order to die in the arms of his lover who looks like his dead sister. And by “looks like” I mean, “played by the same actress”. 

There is a whole character of Doctor Churros, who saves our hero from imminent death by washing his lungs with oil. 

This, I suppose, ultimately, is how The Lost Tomb Reboot (Season 2 in particular) lures you in. It turns what I saw as the show’s fault in season 1 into its biggest strength by establishing the world in which nothing is too outlandish and everything is possible. It so thoroughly breaks your expectations barometer, you grow to willingly accept whatever is thrown at you. 

The most beautiful thing about all of it, is that the fun and games and moments of barely controlled hysteria do not lower the stakes whatsoever. Moreover, somehow this show makes me believe that it could just about do something as irrevocable as, perhaps, killing off the protagonist 

You know how you can watch, say, a super hero film, and then the “all is lost” moment happens, and you kind of have to struggle to care because you know that they will pull through. It’s curious to see how that happens, but you don’t doubt for even second that it will. Well, when that moment arrived here, I found myself between ugly sobbing, and going into speculation overdrive to try and figure out how the Reboot would deal with that. By then I have seen that show be an high octave action movie, a supernatural mystery, a horror thriller, a buddy comedy and a spy flick: it was not a massive stretch to imagine it turning into a revenge tragedy.

Wu Xie dying had been building up since episode one, so you had hours and hours and oh-so-many hours to brace for it, and when the tragedy does not strike, the relief is visceral. 

Despite all the moments of hilarity (whether intended or otherwise), despite the chaotic turns of the plot, despite how utterly off the charts this show is tonally, when it matters, the narrative is pulled together in a way which not only makes complete sense within the world of the series, but is meticulously set-up, satisfying resolved, and delivers lovely emotional impact. Considering that the moral of the story is a very common “live in the moment”, paired up with “greed is bad”, it was surprising how much resonance its delivery actually created. 

Ultimately, however, this show is about found family, and, more specifically, about Wu Xie’s ability to create this family for himself and for every single member of it. He starts as one of the trio, and ends as one of a large group of old allies, new friends, and people he has graced with so much kindness that they follow him until the bitter end. 

Lost Tomb Reboot ensures that you get to know them all, and it’s pretty damn hard to not love this misfit group of adventurers in its entirety. 

(The only thing I could say is that I wish the series spent more time making sure the viewer knows and likes Zhang Qiling, but it seemingly had little purpose for him apart form sweeping in as an avenging angel every now and then. I get that he is a well established character in the series, and that his whole thing is being deadly and enigmatic, but considering that you got to know the other two legs of the famous Triangle so well, it’s a shame that this one was reserved to mostly being Xiao Ge Ex Machina. It would have been nice to know what he was about apart from “really damn cool”.)

Bai Haotian remained my favourite character. She is cute, sweet, romantic, and, for the lack of a better word, “girly”. She is not shy about her crush on Wu Xie, and is prepared to do a lot of reckless, dangerous things for him. None of the above undermine her intelligence, cunningness and authority. Xiao Bai is a young woman in a position of power, and she absolutely knows how to handle herself; for every time she is a damsel in distress, she gets to be the rescuer. For every time she puts herself in needless danger, she learns to collect herself and plan ahead. For every time she is bossed around, she turns and takes charge. Her journey is not the centred around getting the guy, but around discovering her self-assertion; she finds her place within his team not by being a romantic interest, but through her personal strengths. 

My absolutely favourite moment for her came when an antagonist used her affection for Wu Xie to get an upper hand on her, and she gets restrained, knife to her throat. Xiao Bai swivels away, knocks the attacker out and goes to town kicking him, to a great astonishment of this team, as she states that liking someone does not make her weak. 

And it doesn’t. Being in love has nothing to do with weakness or strength. Being a young, and excitable, and a woman does not equate to weakness either.

I’m not saying that this show is a feminist manifesto, because it is definitely not that. Every other prominent female character suffers a pitiful fate in service of creating motivation for the men of the story. But it does spend a lot of time making sure you, the viewer, know its heroes well enough to mentally befriend them. And if this means giving the female lead complexity, I cannot possibly be mad at that. 

So, this was it. This was the Lost Tomb Reboot. It brought me a ridiculous amount of joy and I will miss it a lot. 

And yes, the picture spams will be 100% an excuse to rewatch at least some of it. 

PS. Said spams miiiiight be gif based if I figure out a way to colour correct the damn things. 

[roscoeobrien]

No Control With You | Stiles Stilinski

Author: @roscoeobrien

Pairing: stiles stilinski x fem!reader

Summary: in which stiles stilinski’s girlfriend receives the bite after a terrible turn of events and begins to ignore him. when confronting her about it, he soon learns the truth and the reason why.

Warning: light swearing, hinting of smut- but nothing actually happens and i guess the mention of mates/mating along with angst and fluff near the end? idk? i’m bad at this.

Prompt: “I read that when you cuddle a pillow you’re missing human affection, so maybe you can cuddle me?”

A/N: this is for @stiles-o-dylan24 and her writing challenge for hitting 1k! if you’re reading this, i hope you like it and know you’re very talented and your writings is one of the first things i ever read on tumblr. you really helped inspire me to be brave and write my own stuff in the first place and i’m so sorry you even have to read this bad imagine because you deserve better. i have also read over this a few times but there may still be mistakes so i am so sorry for that in return xx

Words: 6933 ( i don’t have anything to say other than i am so, terribly, sorry )

Stiles’ leg bounced anxiously as he waited for Scott to walk out of the dreaded hospital room he had been in for what seemed now like an eternity, his clammy hands clasped in front of his mouth. His cheeks glistened from the salty tears still falling from his bloodshot eyes, the only sound he made being the quivering of his sharp/shaky breaths and the sniffles his nose forced out.

It had only been an hour or so since he had been holding your body- your bloody body- close to his chest, hearing his frantic heartbeat even with your human hearing thudding rapidly with panic against your ear as the pack made a break for the hospital to hand you in Melissa’s care. Your wound was black when you had arrived with little time left so it seemed, your voice weakly fading out into nothingness as you cried out his name, the sound causing Stiles a deep, mental pain.

How could I have let this happen? Was the question the teenage boy kept asking himself over and over again like a broken record, his brown eyes casting to the hall he hoped Scott would come running down any second now. This whole situation felt like a dream- more like a nightmare- that he desperately wanted to wake up from.

Many of his friends tried to comfort him, offering him their gentle touch and consoling words. It all fell at death ears, however, for they weren’t what he needed most in that moment. In that moment, all he needed was her and to know she was okay.

“Stiles,” Scott jogging down the hospital hallway to the awaiting pack brought everyone out of their own wandering minds with all the tragic outcomes which were close to becoming a reality so it seemed, specifically eyeing his best friend as his steps faltered.

The boy called was up on his feet in an instant, his hands feeling sweaty as he begged with his crystalised, honey-brown eyes. Please be alright. He prayed, feeling the tears swell in his eyes once more.

“She’s awake. It worked . . . the bite worked.” Scott released in the tense air, staring at his friend with his dark eyes holding the expression of stunned amazement as the rest of the pack released noises of what could only be described as relief. “Her eyes . . . they’re red. She-She’s an alpha, Stiles”

That statement should’ve stunned the boy, cueing his mouth to spill with an endless interrogation of how and why . . . but it did not. In fact, Stiles Stilinski remained stone cold.

His heart was thudding loudly in his chest, pounding his ears as he felt small breathes escape his dry pink lips. His mind felt like it was going one hundred miles around him as it focused on the fact that she was awake. Her body had accepted the bite. She was breathing, she was healthy . . . he could hold her in his arms again.

She was going to be okay.

“(Y/N)!” Scott’s foot nudging yours under the lunch table you and your friends were currently sat at in the school cafeteria gained your attention, snapping you out of your daydream to the present. Your firey gaze met his, the boy shooting you a wide-eyed look. “Your eyes are shifting! Calm down.”

“Yeah, you’re hurting your sandwich.” Malia chipped in with her usual deadpan expression, pointing to the now crushed sandwich suffering the consequences of your mighty grip.

With a weak growl, you closed your eyes and shook your head in hopes it would make your red alpha eyes go away. Thankfully, it worked and no one saw anything except your group of supernatural associates . . . but that didn’t make your anger dissolve in the slightest.

“Who does she think she is?” You snarled bitterly, glaring at a blonde-haired girl you shared a few classes with across the cafeteria. You hoped your stare alone would make her combust! Sadly, it did not. “She isn’t fooling anyone with that short skirt and bold makeup.”

Lydia took one stab at her salad as she rolled her eyes and released a scoff. “You’re just saying that because she’s talking to Stiles.”

Your werewolf hearing allowed you to hear the mentioned boy’s melodic laugh, the sound washing over you like a sweet heat wave as you bit your lip. This was beginning to get unbearable.

“You know, he’s been really worried about you.” Scott informed, shooting you a sad look which you adverted your eyes too. You already knew what he was going to say. “All he wants is to talk to you, (Y/N).”

“You don’t understand, Scott.” You grumbled under your breath, watching the hazel-eyed boy adoringly across the room. You admired his side profile and the way his cupid-shaped lips curled up in a polite smile. He was so enchanting, even from the beginning of your relationship . . . but now he was becoming irresistible to you. “Things are different now.”

“Oh come on, Stiles.” Your ears ringed with the head aching voice of the blonde as she advanced towards the Stilinski boy, her hand reaching out to caress his forearm lightly. She let out a little giggle. “Just one date. You won’t regret it.”

“That’s very sweet, Heather, but I-”

“He’s busy.” Stiles’ eyes lit up at the sound of your sudden voice, a small smile coming into place when he turned round to see you standing now right beside him. He took notice of your serious state, your arms crossed over your chest defensively with a glare.

“Oh, well,” the girl, Heather, gave you a short glance of snide before her attention was set back on Stiles. She let out a short, flirtatious giggle once more in a second attempt as she played with her hair. “maybe some other time then. I’d love to see you around sometime, Stiles.”

The teen opened his mouth to politely answer back, only to be cut off by your scoff. “Yeah, I don’t think you will.” You rolled your (Y/E/C) eyes at the girl, a bored look taking place.

When Heather scoffed and strutted away from the pair of you, Stiles turned to give you a friendly smile . . . only to see you now walking away from him quickly. The Stilinski boy jogged up to you as fast as he could, his hand gently finding its way into yours. “Hey,” his soft voice and touch made you whirl round in alert, feeling your body react. “It feels like forever since we’ve last spoken. I’ve missed you.”

“Well . . . umm.” You were quick to draw your hand away, biting your lip as you felt it rise. In an attempt to hide it from the boy, you scratched the back of your neck as a distraction. “I’ve been busy.” Lie.

“Well, when do you think you’re gonna be free next?” Stiles sweetly asked, tilting his head as he reached forwards to tuck a strand of stray hair back behind your ear. “I was wondering when we can have another one of our movie binging date nights.”

A lump grew thick in your throat, all instincts inside you screaming to be let out . . . but you had to hold back. You couldn’t do that to Stiles. You had to get away.

“I don’t know, Stiles.” You instantly felt a guilt claw at your stomach with the way the mentioned boy’s face fell. Her mind mentally shamed her, but she stuck to her gut. She had to remind herself again why she was doing all of this, why she couldn’t give in . . . no matter how much she wanted to. “It’s kinda complicated at the moment.”

“Oh,” Stiles’ eyebrows raised in question, his face edging closer to yours. You leaned back slightly, hoping that it would help keep yourself at bay. It didn’t, leaving you to suffer as Stiles innocently tilted his head. This boy. “Anything I can help with?”

You began to immediately feel warmth, releasing a deep breath you didn’t even realise you were holding until you stepped away from him some more with a shake of the head. “N-No. Nothing.” You denied, your breathing now hollow, feeling the sweat beginning to build up on your face.

“(Y/N),” Stiles noticed the weird behaviour setting in, taking a few steps closer until his hand gently came to rest on your forearm. Little did he know, he was making the problem way worse. “are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You gritted your teeth as your eyes closed, fearing what may soon appear beneath your eyelids. The temperature only seemed to rise within you when a familiar hand was delicately set on your forehead, your eyes widening as a rugged sound weakly escaped you.

“Babe, you’re burning up!” The amber-toned eyes of your boyfriend’s went wide with a sudden surprise, unable to hear the curses you let out under your breath at the realisation as his concern wafted through your nostrils.

A low growl tore through your throat as a sudden need surged through you, causing your arm to throw itself forwards before you could even stop to think. With your fingers now gripping onto the fabric of his plaid shirt, Stiles was suddenly brought closer to you until your noses bumped.

The deep breaths emitting from your lips made Stiles rendered speechless, unable to take his gaze off of your eyes. There was something different about them- and he wasn’t even talking about your wolf eyes which were yet to make an appearance. Something was hidden behind your (Y/E/C) irises, something that made your eyeballs darken as the teen found himself getting almost entranced in them.

“(Y/N)!” Scott was suddenly by your side, practically ripping you away from his best friend. You fought the grasp at first, everything around you sounding muffled as the Filipino muttered a short excuse/apology to the boy before he dragged you further away from the only thing your brain could focus on: Stiles Stilinski.

The thoughts raging through your mind only faltered when your alpha friend had placed you into the closest room; which happened to be a classroom, thankfully, not in use.

Once released, you grasped desperately at the wooden desk to support yourself in the act of getting back into focus. How could you have made such a fool of yourself, (Y/N)? You scolded, gritting your teeth as a growl was set free.

Scott, who had been watching you with careful eyes, turned his gaze sorrowful as he sighed and approached when you slumped against the back of the desk to rest. “Fighting it and running away won’t change a thing. I don’t know why you’re pushing it to the limit.”

“Shut up!” You bit back, ducking your head lower as you began to feel only the slightest bit at ease. This didn’t disperse the anger you held for yourself however.

“You need to tell him, (Y/N).” Scott protests strongly, his stance becoming more stern as his gaze felt like fire seizing your skin. “Things will only get harder going forward. You understand that, don’t you?”

When his words fell upon death ears, Scott knew it was pointless even trying to get an answer out of you. He didn’t blame you, of course not, he just wished you wouldn’t make this situation more hard for yourself; for Stiles.

And when he walked out of the classroom, he could hear your cries of annoyance filled with raging emotions he pitied you for. Closing his eyes, he let out a breath. This doesn’t feel right. He thought, clutching his fists as he exhaled. He had to do something, and although he knew he’d get shit for it later . . . he knew he couldn’t leave it like this. He couldn’t leave them like this.

The sound of Scott’s voicemail coming through the speakers of your nearly dead phone for the seventh time that night made you let out a noise of defeat, sighing up to the pouring sky causing you to be drenched head to toe from above.

After the fellow werewolf had texted you asking for your assistance in werewolf business, who were you to say no? You wanted/needed the experience, no matter how much you tried to deny it at times. Plus, part of you was hoping the McCall boy had summoned you with a way to finally get rid of your problem for good- but you knew that was hopeless thinking.

Hours had passed, yet there was no sign of Scott. No message. No call. No voicemail. Nothing. It was a complete radio silence.

This struck you as odd. Scott McCall was a lot of things, but he was never one to just ditch a friend- or even a stranger, for that matter- without a good reason or a serious hold up.

Part of you worried for the boy. Was he okay? Did he need your help? What if he was already here, possibly injured and just waiting for you to swoop in and help him? You fussed over every detail, resting your head back with a soft thud on the bark of the forest tree behind you to stop your mind from going too far. You had to remind yourself to stay calm, or else things would spiral out of your control and you would be alone with no assistance.

Not keen on giving up just yet, you waited fifteen more minutes before you decided to call it quits. It was getting dark, and the rain was making your clothes and hair stick to you like a second skin at this point.

Walking away from the tree you were taking refuge under left you exposed to the harsh weather, feeling your body beginning to become a victim to the pericing rain once more. And, with no ride to get yourself back home and a phone that would most likely die the second you unlocked it, you knew the bullets of water wouldn’t stop until you reached shelter.

Part of you had wished you had pushed Scott to teach you most of the werewolf basics like using your super speed and super hearing; because most of that would’ve come in handy now. The super speed would’ve helped you make your way home faster than any human ever could . . . and the hearing would’ve helped you identify whatever sound was screeching in your ears before it was too late.

A baby-blue powdered jeep pulled up right in front of you, a familiar head poking out of the rolled down window. You gawked at him, watching as he beckoned a hand over as his words had to raise so you could hear him over the rain. “Get in!”

The twisting feeling that entered your mind told you ‘no’ the minute a subtle heat began to rise- becoming more noticeable in the ice cold rain. However, debating all options, you knew better. The rain was getting worse, the rumbling of a possible thunder storm beginning to head your way as your teeth began to chatter from standing still in the freezing inviroment for so long. And with the way Stiles was watching you carefully, his eyes basically told you that arguing with him was pointless. Classic Stilinski, you guess.

He opened the door for you when you sighed and made your way over to the passenger side of the vehicle that had seen better days, his face beaming when you hopped up on the seat. However, a possible change of ways between you two that he had been holding out for was put down when you folded your arms in a closed off manner; staring at the rainy front of the car. “Take me home, please.”

Stiles wanted to say something- he oh so desperately did- but he knew that would only destroy the little progress he had made with you by actually having you sit in his jeep for the first time alone together in many weeks. So, with his keys now plugged in to start the vehicle and activate the windscreen wipers, you were setting off.

Throughout the car ride, stolen glances were shared between the two of you- yours appearing more discreet than the boy across from you. An itch in your stomach made you feel bad once more as your (Y/E/C) bore into his side profile again like before, admiring the scatter of moles dancing across his skin that you used to trace over gently with the tips of your fingertips when you both would have the rareity of relaxing together. Oh how you’ve missed the many nights of doing that.

“Something wrong?” The sudden voice of Stiles made your spaced out expression twist into that of a confused one, humming in question. Stiles took his eyes off of the road for a split second to turn to you. “You’re staring.”

“Oh! Um, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” You nodded smoothly, looking down at your hands resting on your lap. With a question pawing to escape in your mind and an urge to at least say something to the boy, you asked him a simple question. “What were you doing out at this time anyway?”

“Scott called me. He said he was busy with Kira, or something, and asked me to pick you up.” The Stilinski teen explained, shrugging with his hands steady on the wheel.

Son of a bitch. You rolled your eyes as the final piece of the puzzle as to why the McCall boy had not turned up at all coming together. It was a set up. That asshole had set you up. “Oh.” Eager to keep your gaze on anything but the boy currently gazing into every inch of your face, your head rolled to rest on the window to stare at the scenery.

You must’ve fallen asleep at one point during the journey home, for all you could remember next was being woken up by the crack of thunder as you lurched up to meet the familiar front of a familiar house. You frowned when the car stopped, your eyebrows knitting together. “Why are we at your house?”

Stiles shrugged in an innocent manner, but the proud-like smile he was displaying told you everything. He knew exactly what he was doing. “The rain was making it hard to see the roads clearly. Plus, with the thunder rising, I figured- since my house is closer- it would be safer if we just stopped here.”

A panic set in amongst your brain, the instinct to get away just like before in the cafeteria setting in. “B-But it’s late.” You tried to reason, staggering through your words.

The boy shrugged. “You can just stay over. I have some spare clothes you can borrow.” He hoped out of the car, opening your side to offer you his hand.

You ignored it, jumping out yourself regardless as you both walked to the front of the door; feeling the boy’s hand brush against yours a few times as you did so. The action caused you to freeze up and panic once more. This was all red flags, warning you at the possible disaster that was to come. You were sure of it.

“Isn’t your dad home? I would hate to intrude. I’d be okay walking home from here, Stiles.” Clutching at straws now, your steps faltered when Stiles began to unlock the door to the house that was like a second home to you. Scratch that, it was a second home to you.

Stiles let out a scoff with a small snort. “My dad’s on night shift tonight, (Y/N), remember?” You cursed under your breath when it dawned on you. It was Friday, the house was a Sheriff Stilinski free household. “Besides, he wouldn’t care anyway; he loves you. And don’t even bring up walking the rest of the way to your house in this weather- it’s not happening.”

Stepping inside, you were overcome with a feeling of sweet nostalgia. The Stilinski house was basically the same as you had least remembered it- the only new thing being the family consisting of a father and son had thrown away the takeaway boxes which normally greeted you and your boyfriend when stepping in around dinner time.

Stiles set a gentle hand on the small of your back, the tingling touch leaving as soon as it came as the boy began to descend up the stairs in the direction of his room. You weren’t far behind either, watching rather nervously as he shot you a quick grin over the shoulder when the door to the bedroom was pushed open.

Stiles’ room had remained the exact same, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. All the strings connecting to the latest supernatural crime happening in Beacon Hills was still up, the crime board itself being decorated with pictures and post-it notes belonging to none other than you.

Small steps forward carried you over to the board, your lips curling up in a soft smile as your eyes scanned over all the cheesy pictures of you and Stiles that had been taken on a Polaroid camera he had gotten you for your birthday one year. They all held such a special memory in your opinion- ranging from your first date to one of your many movie nights.

A specific picture caught your attention in particular, your hand gently plucking the item from the board. You were met with a wide grin that had not been mirrored in weeks by you as the Stiles in the photo sloppily kissed your cheek, his arms wrapped round you as his blue bedsheets kept you both warm.

“I remember that.” Present Stiles was now right beside you, staring down at the picture rather fondly as you were. “It was the night I finally convinced you to watch Star Wars with me.” He grinned, recalling the memory of all the pleading and begging that had led up to that moment.

“Yeah,” A small, unexpected chuckle escaped your lips as you nodded, tilting your head to smile brighter at the photo. “I don’t think you would’ve even allowed me to date you if I hadn’t of watched those movies.”

“I missed those nights, ya know?” The short hum of Stiles made your gaze look away from the picture, your heart hammering in your chest at the look that was now plastered on the Stilinki’s face. “Those nights were all our worries would just vanish- as if nothing supernatural related could harm us.”

Now it was your turn for your face to fall, unable to help yourself as your eyes returned to the picture once more. He was right, of course he was. Yet . . . he didn’t see what you saw in that picture entirely.

In that picture, you saw two humans. You saw your human eyes that would now turn red if you wished and a smile that could now produce fangs when angered. The picture contained two human beings in a loving relationship . . . unaware that that title would soon change in a matter of weeks.

“I miss those nights too, Stiles,” The pad of your thumb smoothed over the photo, your shoulder now flaunt against the Stilinski’s clothed chest. “but I don’t know if we’ll ever have one of those nights again.” You had to be open about the future with yourself, and it tore you in half doing so in front of the boy.

“Sure we can.” Stiles was quick to shoot pack, turning around to signal for you to do the same. Your eyes connected as he stared at you softly, the temperature of the room beginning to rise at the sight. “We can have all those nights: all those moments again if we wanted.”

“Stiles-” your own jittering lips were the ones to cut your sentence short, the after effect of the rain only beginning to kick in now as you suddenly felt as if you were in a freezer of a room.

Stiles noticed the action immediately, his arms coming to rest on your forearms as they rubbed up and down gently in an attempt to warm you up. It worked probably better than it should’ve, admittedly; for the feeling of dreaded warmth in the cafeteria came again. Shit.

“I’ll get you a change of clothes.” You shivered when his arms left you- whether that be from the cold or something else was beyond you- leaving you to stand and watch his retreating back as he dug through one of his drawers before making his way back over to you. “Here.”

A smile became present on your lips when you immediately noticed the familiar design of the Mets hoodie that had become a quick favourite on your list of clothes that you liked to borrow- and sometimes steal, but we ain’t talking about that- and wear on the many nights that you stayed over. “My favourite.”

“Yeah,” Stiles let out the lightest of laughs as he scratched the back of his neck, making his way over to the drawers again to pick out clothes for himself. “I thought you’d like it. It’s been awhile since you’ve worn one of my shirts or hoodies.”

There it was, the guilt of your actions setting in. Your fingers subconsciously curled tighter round the fabric as you stripped off your clothing, leaving them in a damp bundle on the carpet floor before you slipped the bigger item of clothing on your body that reached just below your thighs.

It didn’t take long for the tiredness to catch up on you both, Stiles being the one to suggest that you two hit the hay after he witnessed you letting out a big yawn. He was quick to leap onto his bed, his eyes appearing to be excited until he saw you made no move to climb in next to you. “Everything okay, babe?”

“Yeah. It’s just, I think I’m just gonna,” you shifted on the balls of your feet, an awkward feeling igniting as you gestured over your shoulder to the boy’s desk chair. “I think I’m just gonna crash on the chair tonight.”

Stiles laughed at first, thinking it to be some weird joke. You always shared a bed, even before dating. It wasn’t weird or out of the ordinary for you two, so why you were so hesitant now only fueled his concern. “You’re serious? But we always sleep in my bed.”

“I actually think I’m coming down with something from that rain.” You lied, going as far as to fake a sniffle as you waved it off. “I don’t want to get you sick, it’s fine.”

“You think I care about getting sick?” Stiles smiled, his eyes watching as you stubbornly planted yourself on his desk chair and shifted to remain comfy. “Come on, (Y/N), lay with me.”

“I can’t, Stiles.” You shook your head, nuzzling your head in the leather material that differed far from the comfortable pillow you were used to. “Goodnight.” You hoped that would somehow cut things off, your mind left to wonder just how torturous tonight will be.

A small ‘oomph’ left you when a soft material collided with the back of your head. Whipping round, you now had one of Stiles’ pillows resting on your lap. You were about to shoot the boy a look, but Stiles had already beat you to it. “Stop. No takebacks. Take the damn pillow.”

With the boy across from you beginning to settle down for the night once more, you chose to try and get some rest yourself as you tightly stuffed the pillow into the comforts of your arms. It took awhile for you to find a comfortable position in the chair, but eventually, you managed a decent spot. The feeling of warmth surging and clawing like a monster in your chest was still there, but you tried to shake it off.

It would go away, right? The night would fall and you would get some rest, leaving all your problems even if it was for only a moment . . . oh how wrong you were.

The feeling grew like a fungus, spreading to every inch and crevice of your body until it felt like a fire was starting from within your body and would not die out until it got what it wanted. The smell of your boyfriend’s shirt and pillow just underneath your nostrils didn’t help either, your enhanced smell making the scent stronger and unable to ignore.

The clatter of palms slamming on his desk so suddenly gained the awake Stiles Stilinski’s attention, sitting up on his elbows as he watched your breathing pattern grow ragged. “(Y/N)?” He asked slowly, seeing your body tense.

“I-I’m fine.” You grunted out, your eyes hurting from how much you were scrunching them up to hold back. You knew this was a bad idea. You shouldn’t have entered the house. “J-Just stay back and give me a minute, Stiles.”

“Are you sure? Babe, you don’t seem to look so good. Why don’t you come into bed with-”

“Its fine just give me a minute, Stiles!” A sudden outburst of loud anger mixed with panic flooded through when you heard his soft movements of getting out of bed behind you. You held out a hand in warning, vaguely shaking your head. “Just don’t come any closer . . . please.”

Thankfully, the boy seemed to listen as you didn’t hear him move any closer. Unfortunately, he didn’t silence himself as you heard his voice softly flow over to you. “Why are you acting like this around me?” His voice was in the early stages of breaking, your head lifting up but not yet facing him at the tone. “Why? Why are we like this now? Is it something I did? Is it my fault?”

“No.” Things were taking a bad turn and you were scared. The feeling was clawing harder and harder, and you didn’t know if you could fight it anymore. Scott was right, it was only getting worse the more you trapped it deep inside. “No, it’s not you, Stiles. You did nothing.”

“Then why do you push me away?” There it was; the break in the voice. God, it felt like your heart had been given an abrupt tug when you heard the sound. “Why do you act so weird around me now, as if you’re scared to be around me? Is it the bite? Because, if this is about you being a werewolf then, (Y/N), I couldn’t care less what you are. I just want us back.”

“It’s more than that, Stiles.” You shook your head, letting out your first noise of pain of the night. You didn’t know how long you could fight this and if you even could anymore. Your body was being pushed to its ultimate limits, and the walls were crumbling fast.

“Then tell me! Tell me so I can help you, (Y/N). You’re breaking my heart by seeing you like this. All I want is to just take you in my arms and help you forget all your problems like you do with me, yet you refuse. Why?” He’s almost pleading with you now, pleading with you to let him in; to allow him to understand.

“Because I don’t have control with you, Stiles!” There it was. The icebreaker that felt like someone had popped a ballon swelling up in your chest with a needle. You fell back against the chair, tears beginning to build as you hugged the pillow closer to your chest and clung onto it as if you were hugging someone. “I-I can’t be around you because . . . because I can’t control myself from going into heat and wanting to . . . wanting to,” you trialed off, your words becoming softer as you felt the tears blur your vision.

“Wanting to what?” Stiles’ tone didn’t give you any hint as to how or what he was feeling after your words, so you didn’t know if that helped or made it harder as you answered.

“T-To mark you, Stiles. To mark you . . . as my official mate.” Silence settled across the room, the tension metaphorically suffocating you with the words now loose in the air. I shouldn’t have said anything. You thought, closing your eyes as the feeling died down until it became a tiny flicker of light compared to the fire it had been beforehand.

“W-What?” There was a slight tone of emotion to his voice how. Surprise? Fear? Anxiety? Excitement? It was hard to tell with the way your mind was unable to focus. “I’m . . . I’m your mate?”

There was no point taking back what had already been given. With the tears now fading into nothing but salty wet lines on your cheeks, you turned your back to the boy and hugged the pillow to your chest once more as if you were hugging him. You didn’t give into the need to look, because you knew looking would only make it all the more difficult to forgive yourself for ruining one of the few normal things you had going on in your life.

Deep down, you knew no one was to blame but yourself. You could pin the blame on any of your friends as much as you wanted, but they weren’t the ones who had made your mistakes. They weren’t the ones to have locked the truth up for so long that it caused them physical pain and in the end quite possibly made things worse.

“You know,” Stiles’ voice was like the sun coming through the clouds as it made something in your chest- butterflies?- feel lighter than it had been seconds before. “I read that when you cuddle a pillow you’re missing human affection, so maybe you can cuddle me?”

You feared you may have received whiplash with how swiftly you spun yourself around to witness the sight of Stiles smiling- adoringly, for that matter- as he lifted up the covers of his bed, patting the spot next to him welcomingly.

That was when- for the first time in this situation- your feet called the shots. It rose you from the chair slowly, allowing you to collect the plump pillow before it carried you forwards in tentative steps; stopping only when you were now right in front of the Stilinski boy.

Stiles looked up at you and- even with the moonlight being the only light source provided- gave you a look that made you melt. It was the look that you had received before the rise of your relationship. It was the look that calmed all the waves that damaged you through life.

It was a look that made you forget about all your problems . . . and that nothing supernatural related could hurt you.

Gingerly, The Stilinski boy’s hand tangled with yours as he pulled you down gently until you rolled to be placed on top of his chest. From, there, his hands hugged around your waist; trapping you there so your eyes were forced to meet.

“I thought it was impossible for a werewolf and human to be mates.” Was all that came out of his cupid-shaped lips, his nose coming up to nuzzle and brush cutely against yours.

You hummed in a form of happiness at the action, your fingers crawling up to tangle and play with the messy brown hair of the boy. “No, it’s not impossible- just rare. You have to be born human to have one.”

“How long have you known?” Stiles pulled away from you ever so slightly, his thumb drawing patterns as the hoodie you were wearing rode up ever so slightly, exposing your skin.

“Since my birthday.” You honestly answered, seeing your boyfriend tilt his head in the cutest manner. “It was when the pack surprised me, you were in the kitchen, so you missed the cue . . . but when you walked out to greet me . . . I knew.”

Stiles’ lips quirked up softly, edging closer so his lips brushed lightly over yours. “You knew?”

“Well, not until Scott properly explained it, but I remember the feeling of just wanting to be with you, celebrate with you, laugh with you, cry with you. I just- I wanted our relationship, Stiles.”

Two fingers came under your chin, Stiles’ eyes glinting with a prideful joy at your confession. The look made your stomach heat up, but, this time, it was different. It didn’t cause you pain. In fact, it just caused you to feel one thing . . . and that was a deep lust.

“You didn’t have to want our relationship, baby.” Stiles mumbled after clashing his lips onto yours, pulling away as the sound of lips disconnecting sounded through the bedroom. “Not when you already have it and every peice of me. Well, every piece . . . except one.”

Thud. Your heartbeat rises dramatically, causing you to sit back from the position you were currently in which was lying down on his chest. “Stiles . . . are you,” you trailed off, unsure of what your gut was telling you.

“I am.” Stiles Stilinski answered back as soon as the question was fired, his gaze too becoming almost needy as his amber eyes scanned you over before he met your eyes once more. “I want this, (Y/N).”

“But-But what if-” Regardless of the reduced pain, you still had your doubts. What if you went too far? What if things got bad and you could no longer stand on the fine line of human and werewolf? What if-

“Hey,” gentle hands held yours, squeezing one time with a thumb swipe over the knuckle as your breathing hitched at what it meant to you both. When things got more serious and, well, passionate between you both, the pair of you opted for hand signs. One squeeze with a swipe over the knuckle meant that they were okay, they weren’t harmed or scared to take things further with whatever they were trying. They were okay with what was happening, and they wanted it to happen. “You’re not gonna hurt me, okay? Remember that.”

Unable to grasp at formidable words, your lips did all the talking for you. Launching forwards, you captured his lips in yours. A short hum of pleasure escaped him, his hand beginning to travel to the bottom of the hoodie to slide it up. You smirked. “I love you, Stiles Stilinski. So much. I’m sorry.”

The Stilinski cupped your cheek and admired you as if you were the all the stars in a boring galaxy, his legs tangled with yours in an act to become closer. “Don’t be sorry, baby.” He whispered comfortingly, feeling you lean into his touch. “I love you so much, (Y/N), no matter what.”

You grinned at him. “Even if I haven’t seen the last Star Wars movie?”

“It’s a god damn miracle I haven’t left your ass for that and if you don’t mark me as yours forever right now, there’s gonna be trouble!” Stiles exasperated, only quieting down when you silenced him with a lustful kiss.

“You don’t need to ask me twice, Sti.” You laughed at the way his face beamed at the nickname you hadn’t used for him in weeks, the sight allowing you the comforting, cushioned thought that even after all these months; nothing had changed. You were still (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Stiles Stilinski . . . the only change would be that Stiles would now have a permanent mark on his neck on display for everyone to see.

Stiles Stilinski was a sight for sore eyes, and there was no doubt you were absolutely mesmerized by everything about him. You had no control, yet- as you laid later on in the night not only in the comforts of the bed you had been missing for weeks on end, but also the pair of arms that felt like a sweet home to run to when things got tough that could now be given the label of your mate- you were learning to accept.

Little by little, you were learning to accept that you and Stiles could still be the couple you had thought to have vanished the minute the wolf fangs pierced your dying skin. You were learning that you had always been you- werewolf or not . . . and it took a loving Stiles and one hell of a mating problem to realise that.

━ 𝐑 𝐎 𝐒 𝐂 𝐎 𝐄 𝐎 𝐁 𝐑 𝐈 𝐄 𝐍

[ktrivia]

All Men Dream

Bucky x Reader

Summary:

Reader is enhanced with the powers to enter dreams. She originally entered Captain America's dreams just to see if she could, but kept returning to them because she loved spending time in the 1940s ease of life in his idyllic versions of the time. But what happens when the good Captain figures out something is amiss?

Author’s Notes:

When I originally wrote this chapter I had just had dental surgery and I guess the meds I was on (which probably helped with writing this) made me think I posted it. No joke, I just spent a half hour searching through tumblr and almost messaged @searchingforbucky​ to find my own damn fic. Turns out I just never posted it to begin with (insert shrugging emoji here)

I’m currently in the process of writing the next chapter and I greatly appreciate everyone’s patience during my long absence from this story!

If you would like to be tagged in this story (I’m so excited that people actually want to read this) please send me a message!

Also let me know what you think of this chapter! I always love getting comments, questions, and theories!

Chapter 5

Bucky’s POV

               I tried opening my eyes, but it felt like someone had poured cement over them. They were heavy and it took every little bit of focus to get them cracked open. As light filtered in and shapes began to form, I began to hear snippets of the voices around me.

               “Clint! Clint! Wake-“

               “Med bay!”

               “Blood coming from-“

               Turning my head slowly, I tried to see what the commotion was about. Why was I so tired? I saw Clint laying on a medical bed next to me with Natasha essentially on top of him as she shook his face violently. Had we gone on a mission and he’s been injured? Lifting my heavy head, I looked down at my body, inspecting it for wounds, but there was nothing out of the ordinary.

               As I looked past my feet, I saw her. Y/N was slumped over in her chair. Electrodes were still attached to her forehead and chest, but she seemed almost lifeless. Adrenaline shot through me as my eyes opened completely and the memories of her in my dreams appeared again.

               Scrambling off the bed was as ungraceful as it could be with the sedatives still burning from my system, but I stood up and started making my way to her as fast as I possibly could. I was stopped by a large body blocking me.

               “Buck! What did she do to you?” Steve questioned firmly while taking in my sedated state.

               “She didn’t. It’s those damn drugs Banner gave me to knock me out,” I explained without taking my eyes off of Y/N. Now that I was closer, I could see blood running out of her ears and nose.

               “Steve, we have to help her,” I said as I pushed around him. Steve grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

               “Clint’s not awake Bucky. We don’t know if she did something to him and it backfired and that’s why she’s bleeding.”

               “That’s bullshit and you know it,” I yelled. “He’s just sedated. She needs help. She purposely did this to herself so Clint and I would get out of there safely.” I wrenched my arm free and ran to her, dropping to my knees in front of the chair. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Banner running to grab the hospital bed I had been lying on.

               I placed my hands on each side of her face, tilting her head up to face me. With each thumb I gently pulled open her eyelids to check for pupillary response. When light hit them, her pupils both contracted which meant her brain had hopefully not suffered too much damage from what had happened, if any. Steve spoke as I manually checked her pulse, not trusting the low reading on the electrodes were showing.

               “What happened in there?”

               “She looked uncomfortable the minute she brought Clint into there,” I explained clinically while still checking her vitals. “She was still sarcastic and seemed outwardly upbeat, but she started getting really pale and I could see her wincing like something was hurting her. By the end, she looked like she was going to keel over and that’s exactly what happened. But instead of waking up and helping herself, she made sure Clint got out. I don’t know how she did it, but she made sure He and I were safe before breaking the connection. She saved our asses, Steve.”

               By the time I finished explaining, Bruce had arrived with the rolling hospital bed. Carefully, and without removing any of the attached electrodes, I picked her up and placed her on the bed. Tony unlocked the breaks on the machines reading her vital signs and brain activity so he could roll them alongside her as they rapidly moved towards the rooms exit.

               Steve, Wanda and I followed the two men and they began asking questions and trying to get explanations.

               “Wanda, was there anything malicious happening in her head?” Steve asked.

               “No,” Wanda replied with a shake of her head. “She showed them a field and an ice cream shop from one of your dreams. She was just trying to explain everything as best she could but there was a lot of pain there. It felt like she was being ripped in two. Her consciousness was almost splitting in half while trying to keep hold of Bucky and Clint’s minds.”

               Wanda’s answer explained why Y/N had seemed like something was hurting her. An edge of guilt started to fill me as I realized I had made her do this task she’d never tried before.

               “Bucky and Clint’s vitals were perfect until the very end of it except for that one little spike Bucky had in the middle,” Bruce explained when they reached the elevator that would take them to the med bay.

               “You see a stripper from the 40s while you were there, Manchurian Candidate?” Tony asked, sarcastic even while they were rushing someone to emergency care.

               “She brought us to an ice cream shop Steve and I went to all the time. It must have spiked my heart rate,” I answered absent mindedly as I watched the floor numbers tick down.

               When the door opened, doctors were waiting and ready for us. They grabbed the gurney and rushed Y/N into an exam room. I tried to follow, but Steve’s arm blocked me.

               “We need to finish debriefing and the doctors need space to work,” he commanded, but I could see there was a bit of guilt in his eyes too. I watched through the glass and the doctors begin doing diagnostic exams as Y/N just laid there, unmoving.

               Wanda and Steve were still going over what Wanda had found in her mind while Tony scrolled through a tablet someone had brought him.

               “I went deeper into her mind while I was in there and I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She lives a very normal life and unless she has some higher power to hide memories, there is nothing nefarious about her.” Steve nodded at Wanda’s explanation and was about to respond before Tony interjected.

               “I had Friday run a background check on her and she’s literally so normal she could be an extra in a movie. Both parents still alive, one brother, a cat at home in her Brooklyn apartment. She works, well worked, for a marketing agency. Her boss fired her for not coming in yesterday so he seems like a genuine asshole. Her work is actually pretty good. Seems like she does the design work and marketing plans on her own. Oh, and she creates slogans and jingles too-“

               Tony!” Steve interjected as Tony began rambling about Y/N’s job. “Are there any red flags at all?”

               “No. Not a single one. Her file is completely clean. Not so clean that it’s suspicious, but clean enough where her worst offense is a parking ticket.”

               The room fell quiet as everyone considered the information they learned within the last ten minutes. Not only did Y/N not work for one of our enemies like Hydra, but she lived a normal life with a normal family and probably normal friends. We had swooped in and interrupted that to the point of her being fired and who knows what else.  Steve spoke first.

               “Sam went and searched her apartment. There was nothing suspicious there, but he did grab the cat and bring it back here. Even if there was something going on with Y/N, there was no reason for the cat to starve.”

               We all nodded, remaining quiet again. Each of us alone with our own thoughts.

               “So, what we’ve all just established here is that we abducted, somewhat tortured, and potentially seriously harmed an innocent woman.” Tony said.

               “Yes,” Steve whispered with a small nod.

               “Then what do we do now?” Tony questioned.

Tag list (Please message me if you would like to be added to it):

@paradisiacalsparks @cals-cigarette @searchingforbucky @mavelfanatic @some-person-somewhere @marvel-th @unfortunately-im-awake @jessicakimba @fandom-addict-aesthetics @simplysaying @spnsquirrel @bxrnsfeyson @magnolialikes @buckyinantarctica @fluffymadamina @willowtree42095 @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @pieofawkwardness @mirajanestrauss987 @nerdypisces160 @in-avengers-we-trust @lilo-1398