#my mom says its not great bacon | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hippiegoth97 · 5 months ago

Text

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 13

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 12

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, alcohol use, anger, anxiety, smut, masturbation, squirting, unprotected sex, praise/degradation, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, crying, mild arguing, mentions of a dead parent

Word Count: 8.8k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 13: Human

Wednesday, April 12th, 1989

Your alarm clock wakes you up at 7:30am, blaring its harsh trill in a persistent rhythm. The sound hurts your head, your wound throbbing at the back of your skull. Eddie grumbles beneath you, not wanting to get up. You place a whisper of a kiss on his cheek before slipping out of bed to shut the alarm off. His good eye flutters open when the room is quiet again. "Come back to bed, love. You're so warm and cozy." Sleep saturates his voice, it's really adorable.

"I can't, Eds. I have to shower and get ready for my exam. You can stay in bed if you want. I know you're really tired." You stroke his hair, which makes him smile warmly at you. He just nods in reply, closing his eye to continue resting. You don't blame him one bit. If you didn't have your final, you'd be knocked out right next to him all day.

You go through your usual routine, taking your time as your head is pounding again. You take a shower first, carefully letting the water run over your stitches. It doesn't feel great, but the doctor said to keep the area clean and you don't have time to deal with an infection. You return to your room wrapped in a towel, quietly digging around your drawers to pull out some fresh jeans and a t-shirt.

Eddie's snoring again, you watch his chest rise and fall in the mirror's reflection while you dress. You hate to leave him alone all morning, you're sure he'll be a bit stir-crazy without you or anything to occupy his mind. Maybe he'll get curious and dig around in your room, if he hasn't before. You giggle quietly at that thought, picturing Eddie attempting to glean new information about you from old stuffed animals and journals you've long since neglected. You walk over to him, giving another kiss to his forehead. He stirs slightly, an indescribably cute noise escaping his mouth.

You tiptoe out of the room, not wanting to disturb him. You slowly close the door behind you, traveling down the hall to the kitchen. Dustin is at the island munching on some Eggos, and Mom is frying up some bacon and eggs. You see your portion, but she's making more than usual. It's probably for Eddie. "Mornin' kiddos! How'd you sleep?" Mom asks with her back turned.

"I slept alright, Eddie's still asleep." You reply, which makes her face drop slightly. Dustin also gives a worried glance.

"Is he alright? He looked like a zombie when you brought him home last night." Dustin asks, concerned about his friend.

"He's alright. Yesterday really shook him up. He did wake up at first, but I told him he can stay in bed if he wants."

"Well, I'll put a plate for him in the microwave. I'd hate for him to go hungry." Mom says, clearly nervous about today. You've scared the hell out of her with yesterday's incident. And tonight she has to break bread with her ex-husband's mistress and their kids. You feel so guilty for putting her through all this, you wonder if she still thinks Eddie is the right man for you.

"I'll leave a note before we go, I'm sure he'll appreciate it." You keep conversation light, getting a plate from the cabinet to serve yourself. "You ready for your tests today, Dusty?" You ask, Mom's focus has drifted away from him lately in favor of you and Eddie. Another thing you feel very guilty about.

"Born ready!" He says cheerfully, luckily he doesn't seem to have taken the shift in attention personally. He knows Mom has been doting on you for years to get into a serious relationship. And now that you have, she's over the moon. Well, at least she was. The jury is still out on whether that sentiment remains.

"Good." You smile at him, taking a bite of egg into your mouth. The three of you finish eating, and you go back to your room one last time to retrieve your bag. You scribble out a note for Eddie, which reads:

I'll be back in a couple hours, love. There's a plate for you in the microwave, please be kind to yourself today.-Your Girl ♡

You set it on the nightstand, hoping he sees it instead of freaking out when he wakes up to an empty house. You give him one last kiss, unable to resist. He hums lightly, and you worry you've woken him up now. He doesn't do anything else besides shift a little in the bed. You sling your bag over your shoulder, glancing back at him one last time before heading to the front door. Mom leads the way to the car, you in the front and Dustin in the back. The ride is pretty quiet, you can sense a different tense energy growing in your mother.

Dustin is dropped off first as the high school is closer. Claudia pulls away after saying goodbye, and she glances at you oddly. "What's up, Mom?" You ask, your voice faltering.

"Nothing, nothing." She shakes her head insistently, but you're not convinced. You look at her purposefully, and she sighs before speaking again. "I'm just worried, that's all." She says, a tinge of judgment hiding just below the surface of her tone.

"About what?" You want clarification as there's many things she could be referring to. You pick at your hands, anticipating what she's going to say.

"You and Eddie." She says plainly, knowing you're onto her.

"In what way?"

"Well, sugarpuff...I just, I worry that maybe he's not what you need right now." There it is. The other shoe finally drops. You scoff, not in disbelief of her feeling this way. It's more that you had hoped she'd be better than this.

"What's that supposed to mean? You think he's not good enough for me?" You're getting defensive, you've already told her it wasn't his fault.

She sighs again, considering her words carefully. "I don't mean it like that. He's a sweet young man, and he clearly cares for you. And I know you love him, honey. But...yesterday was easily the worst day of my life. I was worried to death. Getting the call at work that you were at the hospital scared the shit out of me." She can't help tearing up a little, the initial thought when she received that call was that you'd been in a car accident or something.

"I know, Mom. It was no picnic for me or Eddie, either. I've already told you, it wasn't his fault. Jason was being a piece of shit because we wanted to do the right thing." Your heart is sinking as this talk continues, you really hope she doesn't ask you to break up with him. You won't, no matter what she says. But to have her even ask would crush you both. Eddie already worries about being good enough for you. If Mom gives even a hint of that sentiment to him, he'll surely save you the trouble and cut himself out of your life.

"I understand that, Y/N. But I need you to understand something, too. You are my child, and it's my job to do everything I can to protect you. This mess had me and Dusty in shambles yesterday. So, if Eddie gets you hurt or in trouble again, I don't want him in my house. And I certainly won't keep that promise I made if that happens. Do you understand me?" Her question rings through the air just as you pull up to the college. She looks at you fully, her face hardened as she expects a quick answer.

"Yes, I understand." You say begrudgingly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. This is so fucking unfair, she's treating you like a little kid again. You get where she's coming from, you truly do. But she should know by now that Eddie does everything in his power to take care of you. One little mistake, and she doesn't trust him anymore. She's no better than every other fucker in this town that takes one look at Eddie and only sees trouble.

"I can tell you're not happy with me, sugarpuff. You get your bull-headedness from me, ya know. But I'm serious. One more mess-up, and you're on your own in regards to him. Now, go ace that test. I'll be waiting right here with my novel." She attempts to smile, but you don't buy it. The anger in your eyes shines through crystal clear. You get out of the car without another word. You'll say something you regret if you open your mouth.

You make your way to the exam room, unable to calm the seething feeling inside you. Great, now your testing flow is thrown off. Part of you wants to flunk this test on purpose, just to spite her. You could always blame it on your head injury, you could even get a redo if it came down to it. You're just so upset that she would threaten to ban Eddie from your house if he 'screws up' again. This wasn't his fault. Why can't she see that? You dread going back home after the exam. Eddie will know you're hiding something. But you can't possibly tell him what Mom said.

You take your seat, forcing the rage into a deep recess of your mind as you wait for the go-ahead to open your test booklet. You take your time, drawing out every answer in an effort to stall facing your beaten boyfriend. You have a secondary thought process going in your mind as you fill in the scantron bubbles, coming up with a way to hide what Mom said from Eddie. You don't want to lie, but he can't handle something like this right now. He's hanging by a thread as it is, so you'll have to put up an act. The very idea of doing this makes you sick, but what choice do you have? Ugh, maybe I should just tell him. You really don't know what to do at this point, turning the attention away from the subject for now.

You finish second to last, with only fifteen minutes left in the allotted time. Mom will be worried again, this plan is backfiring already. Your professor gives you an odd look when you return your testing materials, she expected you to finish way before everyone else. She's about to ask if you're alright, it reads plainly on her face. You can't take another person worrying about you, so you leave before she can speak. You make your way outside and get back in the car, clicking your seatbelt in place.

"That took a while. How'd it go?" Mom asks while glancing at her watch.

"It went fine." You reply shortly. You don't even look at her, you can't. She's really pissed you off this time. She sighs again, becoming rather annoyed herself. She wonders if she shouldn't have said anything at all. She doesn't mean to be harsh, she's just looking out for you.

"Okay." It comes out of her mouth barely above a whisper, and she puts the car in drive to take you both home. The whole ride is silent, suffocating. You hate it, but you refuse to let this go. There's certainly no hiding this from Eddie now, you're far from a good actress. Let's just hope everyone can calm the fuck down before dinner later on.

Mom stalls the car in the driveway, and you leave her behind to go inside. You leave the front door open for her, though you're tempted to slam it. You find Eddie eating his plate of food in the kitchen, struggling to avoid touching his nose or busted side of his lip. "Hey, darling. How'd the test go?" He asks as his fork stabs the split in his mouth. "Fuck." He mutters, letting the utensil clatter onto his plate.

"Oh, Eds." You gasp, setting your bag on the island to tend to his bleeding lip. You grab some paper towel, folding it for him to hold to his wound. "Here. And it went fine, there's something I have to tell you when you're done eating, though." You say cautiously, not wanting to spook him.

"Well, that doesn't make me nervous at all." He replies, raising an eyebrow at you as he holds the towel up to stop the bleeding. Mom shuts the door and walks past you without saying anything, retreating to her room as she imagines you aren't wanting her company at the moment.

"I know. It's not something I wanted to hear, either." His eyes widen at your words, curious what that means. Did Claudia say something? He starts to panic internally, hoping you're not going to dump him or something. "Eddie, don't freak out. What it is does not change a damn thing between us. Okay?" You take his free hand, emphasizing your point by giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Okay." He says, letting himself relax a little. The blood flow mostly stops, and he finishes his plate before putting it in the sink. You take his hands, pulling him along behind you back to your room. You really don't want to tell him what Mom said, but hiding and lying isn't something you want to be in the habit of doing. Eddie means too much to you for you to deceive him. You sit side by side on the bed, still holding hands. "What's up?" He asks, reminding himself of what you said. Nothing will change between us. He really hopes you mean that.

You nod awkwardly, preparing yourself. You don't want Eddie to be upset, or decide he can't be with you anymore. You can't lose him, he's your everything. "Okay, just gonna reiterate that I highly disagree with this. I have no intention of letting you go, ever." You look deep into his eyes, trying to drive home the fact that you can't live without him. He gives you a nod, nudging you to keep talking. "Mom was driving me to the exam. She told me how scared she was yesterday, that she thinks you're not 'what I need right now'. And she said...that if I get hurt again when I'm around you, that she won't let you in the house anymore." You flinch as you finish speaking, it's like the air has been sucked out of the room.

You glance at Eddie cautiously, waiting for him to respond. He takes a minute to absorb this, you have no clue how he's going to react. "Fair enough." He shrugs. Well, that was easier than you expected.

"Really?" You ask, confused.

"I mean, she's not wrong to say that, Y/N. You're her daughter, and she's worried about you. I know you don't think it's fair, but you're forgetting that this isn't the first time you've gotten hurt because of me." You're surprised he's taking this so well, but you suppose it's better than him trying to leave you.

"But that wasn't your fault, either. I was being a dumbass, biking into the road when I shouldn't have." You retort, unsatisfied with how this is all panning out. You still think it's bullshit that Mom said what she did. Eddie would never hurt you on purpose, it's been your own fault every time. You cross your arms, and Eddie scoffs.

"What do you want me to say, princess? I feel like you're looking for a fight here, when there isn't one." He searches your eyes, and you avert your gaze in annoyance.

"It's just not right, Eds. Hearing her say that, she sounded like every other asshole in this town that judges you unfairly." You hate the way Eddie's treated in Hawkins. He doesn't do or say anything to anyone. But because of his outward appearance, they assume he's a monster, or something.

Eddie sighs, using his thumb and forefinger to gently lead you to look at him. He speaks seriously, hoping he can help you understand. "Whether you like it or not, your mother holds me responsible for your safety since I'm your boyfriend. And so do I, Y/N. Clearly you don't agree with us on this, and that's fine. But you deserve better, and I damn well intend to be better."

You want to protest, shout and scream that he's perfect just the way he is. You don't need him to be better, he's everything you need already. But you're outnumbered, so what's the point in fighting it? "Okay." Is all you can say, anything else will surely lead to an argument. And you're too tired to handle that right now, especially when you have to deal with Angie in a few hours. "We've got a while before dinner, is there anything you wanna do?" You ask, wanting to spend as much time with Eddie one on one as possible.

He thinks for a moment, his features softening once he realizes you aren't going to fight him on the previous subject. He smiles kindly, letting your chin out of his grip. "Anything you want, sweetheart. I'm just happy to be around you." He wishes he could kiss you, but his busted face has taken his favorite things to do to you off the table.

Noticing his wanting for contact, you lean over and plant a warm kiss on his throat. He sighs, his hand snaking up to cradle the back of your neck. You leave a trail of wet marks on him, nipping the skin just below his jaw. He moans quietly, wanting more. "I love you, Eds." You whisper against his flesh, poking your tongue out to lick his sweet-spot.

His breath hitches, the next six days are going to be very trying for him. It'll take every last iota of willpower to keep himself from diving face first between your legs. "I love you too, baby. You're killin' me here." He whimpers, which only pushes you further.

You move his hair aside to purr against the shell of his ear. "Well, lucky for you, my mouth is fully capable of giving you what you want. Let me please you, darling." Slipping a hand down his front to graze over the bulge forming in his pajamas, he moans in your grasp.

"What about you?" He asks, meeting your lustful eyes. Your heart soars at his consideration for your own pleasure, he's always been so invested in it. You shrug, not finding it particularly important at the moment.

"You can watch me get myself off, if you want. Your mouth and hands are kinda out of commission at the moment." You take Eddie's earlobe between your teeth, nibbling on it just the way he likes.

"I think you're forgetting another vital part, princess." He chuckles lightly, and you stop your movements on him.

"Are you sure, Eddie? I don't wanna hurt you." You'd hate to make his injuries worse by engaging in such a strenuous activity. Though the wetness gathering between your legs tells you what you truly desire.

"I have an idea, if you're up for it." He gives you a devilish smirk, a glint of mischief in his eye.

"Shoot." You say, anxious to hear what he has in mind.

"There's still one more page in the book I made you that we haven't tried yet." He gestures for you to retrieve it, and you find the position Eddie is referring to. Number six: Conquest. You can't help going slack-jawed at the illustration, but it's perfect for the current limitations you both face. You look at him with widened eyes, and he laughs at your reaction. "It's good to know I'm still able to shock you, baby. You wanna lock the door?"

"Uh...yeah." You snap yourself out of it for a second, hopping off the bed to click the lock. You hear Eddie shuffling out of his clothes while your back is turned, he's very eager it seems. You turn back around to find him getting into position. He's laying his head on the pillows, knees tented together. You eye his stiff cock waiting for you, the tip leaking sticky precum. "Fuck." Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, your hands instinctively pulling at the hem of your shirt to lift it over your head.

Eddie watches as you undress, he'd be stroking himself while he waits if it weren't for the bandages on his hands. He wishes his left eye could look at you along with his right. The swelling has gone down a little, but it's still in pretty bad shape. You unbutton your jeans, making a show of sliding them down your legs. "You're so gorgeous, love." Eddie says, sending a flare of heat to your cheeks. You're standing in your bra and panties, reaching behind your back to undo the clasp. The straps fall down your shoulders, and you let the bra plop to the floor. "Can you stop for a second?" He asks as you're about to take off your underwear. His tone is needy, almost desperate.

You raise an eyebrow, before realizing why he asked. "You want me to play with them for you, Eds?" You bat your eyes at him while biting your lip. He nods wordlessly, and you apprehensively bring your palms up to squeeze your tits. You moan lightly at the contact, watching his reaction to you touching yourself. You feel bad that Eddie can't do this himself, but it's also very hot to have him helplessly observe you like this. It reminds you of your birthday, which was easily one of the best days of your life. "You wish these were your hands instead, baby?" You speak teasingly, walking closer to the side of the bed.

"I really do. Can you tease your nipples a little, sweetheart? I love the face you make when I do that." You do as he requests, your eyes fluttering shut as you roll the sensitive buds between your fingers. Your mouth falls open, letting out a low moan of his name. "Fuck, just like that."

"Should I touch something else, baby?" You open your eyes again as you pose the question. You really want to feel how wet you are, and tell him all about it. It'll drive him even crazier than you already have.

"Please, take off your panties and tell me how wet you are for me." You can't get enough of the begging in his voice, it's practically a drug to you. You slip your final piece of clothing off, kicking it away with your foot. You watch his gaze follow your hand as it seamlessly glides over your breasts, down your stomach, until it reaches between your thighs.

"Fuck, Eddie." You whine as you finally touch your slick folds. Your fingertips ghost over your clit, before dipping inside your entrance out of reflex. "I'm absolutely soaked for you." You pump your fingers in your pussy at an agonizing pace, preparing yourself to take Eddie's dick when he's ready for you.

"Such a filthy girl, fingering yourself while I watch." He says lowly, unbearably wound up by your little performance.

"Can I have you inside me now, baby? I want your cock so fucking bad." You whimper, tying a knot of pleasure inside yourself that won't hold much longer.

"You can if you want to, sweetheart. But I'd love nothing more than to see you make yourself cum. Can you make a mess for me like a good girl?" Oddly enough, he's the one in control now without even touching you. Shit, he's an evil little genius sometimes.

"I'll be a good girl for you, Eds." You pant, increasing your speed as he stares you down like a starving animal. "Oh, god, I'm so close already." You try to keep the noise down, biting your lip to stifle the moans. Your juices drip down your fingers, gathering into your palm. Eddie's taking in every last detail as you bring yourself to climax, holding back his own high for your sake. He wants you to ride him relentlessly, and the perfect way to get you to do that is to give you an orgasm first. For some reason, one is never enough for you. You always need at least one more to be fully satisfied, and that fact makes him positively wild inside.

Your eyes have screwed shut, and your lips stay parted just enough to let the sweetest noises escape. Your hips begin to buck forward every so often, jolts of pleasure striking your most sensitive parts. You're sheened over in sweat, he can sense you're just on the edge of total bliss. "That's it, keep going. Such a perfect little slut for me. Look at me while you cum, sweetheart." You force your eyes open, chest heaving as you feel the knot you've tied snap into smithereens.

"Eddie一" You bite your free hand to hold back the scream that's trapped within your lungs. Your legs shake, blazing sparks shooting through your body. Arousal rushes from your cunt, spilling onto the carpet. Your walls clamp onto your fingers, trapping them inside as you convulse through your high.

"That's my girl, you did so well." Eddie coos, it takes everything in him not to blow his load at the sight of you. Your knees buckle, and you slump onto the floor for a moment to recover. Your digits are still stuck inside you, you try to release them through your aftershocks. You finally pull them free, moaning at the loss of being filled up. "You ready for me, baby? Or are you done?" He asks, though he knows you're far from finished.

"You really need to ask?" You say breathlessly as you stand again. You climb onto the bed with your back to him. You rest on your knees on either side of him, taking his swollen cock in your hand. He groans at the contact, overly sensitive from waiting so long. You slowly drag his tip through your slippery folds, moaning just a tiny bit louder than you mean to when he touches your clit.

"Shh, gotta be quiet, angel." Eddie warns sweetly. He doesn't imagine Claudia wants to hear you two having sex after what's happened in the last twenty-four hours. You nod, savoring how good he feels against you. You sense he wants you to stop teasing, guiding his length to slowly push into you. His tip disappears into your dripping cunt, and he moans quietly at the beautiful image. You let him out of your grip, sliding yourself down onto him fully.

"Oh, my god." You gasp as he fills you up in the best way possible. You hold his knees just like the picture in the book, using your own as leverage to lift yourself up before sinking back down. "This is so fuckin' perfect, Eds." You confess to him, your stomach rubbing against his thighs as you start to ride.

"Wish you could see the view from here, my cock sliding into that pretty pussy of yours. God, it's fuckin' beautiful." Eddie groans, wishing you'd go faster. You're so hot and wet around him, hugging him the way he likes.

His words fuel your fire, and you bounce on him harder and faster. He hits your g-spot just right every time you land on him, you're quickly building up to come crashing down again. "You feel so good, baby. I'll never get enough of you." You confess, needing Eddie to know everything you think about him.

"I'll never get enough either, princess. Are you getting close?" He doesn't want to rush you by any means, but he's so very near to losing it. He wants to give you what you need, wishing he could use other parts of himself to help you get off. You increase your speed in response, which he takes as a big fat 'yes'. He might not be able to do much, but he can hold your waist to pull you harder onto him. He grips your sides with his bandaged hands, making you gasp. Your skin slaps against his, the two of you sweating profusely.

"Shit, Eddie. Just like that, fuck." You groan through clenched teeth, forcing yourself to keep the noise down. Eddie's tip kisses your sweet-spot harder and faster with his hands guiding you, pounding you into your next orgasm. "I'm gonna cum, baby. Have I been a good little whore for you?" You ask, tempted to look back at him for his response. But you don't want to disrupt the delicious sensation you're feeling.

"Always, babydoll. I'm right behind you, cum for me." He yanks you even harder into him, which sends you flying over the proverbial cliff into a chasm of ecstasy.

"Eddie!" You cry out, before biting down into his leg to conceal any further noise. You shake uncontrollably once again, with Eddie still rutting you into him. You try to keep up your movements to bring him down with you, which only extends your pleasure. Cum gushes out of you, flowing down your thighs, and onto Eddie's stomach. But he doesn't stop, despite the fact that you're both becoming very slippery.

"Shit, Y/N." He grunts, unable to contain himself. He keeps an iron grip on you as his load empties into your cunt. You continue moving until both your highs run their course, relishing every last thrust before collapsing against his thighs. Your breath comes out harsh and ragged, fighting for air.

"Well, looks like we'll need another shower." You joke, letting yourself melt into a satisfied pile of goo. You lay your head on his knees, sighing in contentment.

Eddie chuckles beneath you, caressing your sides with his hands. "That we do, angel. Not to mention some clean sheets."

"Mhm. What time is it?" You ask as your eyes drift closed. Eddie's gone soft inside you, but you can't be bothered to move just yet. He doesn't appear to be in any kind of rush, either, still running his large fingers along your waist and back. It's very soothing, therapeutic, even.

He turns his head to glance at the clock. "A little after noon. How about we get cleaned up and have some lunch, love?"

"I suppose we should, although I'd much rather sit on your dick all day." You say cheekily, clenching around him to emphasize your point.

"Jesus, Y/N.'' He groans, overstimulated from being sheathed inside you longer than usual. You giggle at his reaction, bracing your hands on his knees as you slowly remove yourself from your favorite place. The two of you hiss at the sensation, rather worn out now. You manage to stand, walking over to the closet to retrieve your bathrobes. Eddie gets up after you, taking the frilly garment to cover up with.

You scurry to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You go over to the shower to turn on the faucet, before helping Eddie remove his bandages. "I'll help you put on new ones once we're all clean, baby." You realize his hands are completely bare, something you've never seen before. "What happened to your rings, Eds?" You ask, hoping he didn't lose them.

"Left ‘em in my jeans pocket. I forgot about them until just now, actually. I can't exactly wear them until these cuts heal." You inspect his knuckles, which are all split open pretty deep from him punching Jason so hard. You tut at the state of them, you hate to see him injured like this.

"I'll dig them out of the laundry so they don't get lost, I know they're important to you." You say, unable to hide your sullen tone.

"Not nearly as important as you, sweetheart." Eddie's words cheer you up a little, a slight smile twitching on your lips. "There's that smile I love. C'mon, we've gotta wash up." He leads you over to the shower, stepping in after you. You assist him in washing his hair, making sure he's turned away from the water so he doesn't mess up his cast. You wash your own hair and body, which Eddie watches closely. He can't help getting a little hard again, but he has no intention of acting on it. You've both had enough, there has to be some energy left for tonight. This dinner will be far from easy for you, and he has to be giving 100% to support you.

You finish off the shower by sudsing Eddie down, smirking when you notice his erection. You let him be, you've got to show restraint at some point. He rinses off, and you help him dry off and put on fresh bandages before returning to your room to get dressed. You reach into the laundry basket to locate Eddie's dirty jeans, feeling around in the pockets until you pull out his rings. You hold them in your hand, noticing the true weight of them for the first time. "How do you wear these all the time? Don't your fingers get tired?" You ask curiously, the metal clinking in your palm as you toy with them.

"I dunno, I've had 'em for years. Got used to it, I guess." He replies, pulling on some clean pants and snaking his signature belt through the loops. You place the rings on your nightstand, standing in front of Eddie. He hasn't put a shirt on yet, a couple drips of water from his hair running down his chest. You wrap your arms around his middle, laying your cheek on his warm skin. "What's up, angel?" He asks, putting his arms over you to keep you close.

"I just like holding you, Eds. Is that okay?" You feel silly even asking, he loves it when you show him affection.

"Of course it is, princess. Always." He says sweetly, sighing when you nuzzle against his shoulder. "You're real cute, you know that?" He muses.

"Mhm, always." You quip, making you both laugh. "You're very cute, too, among other things." You say as you playfully twirl the tuft of hair on his chest with your finger. You pull away after a moment, letting him fully dress. Your stomach is begging for food, the sound growing louder as the minutes tick past.

You and Eddie spend the next few hours having a simple lunch and watching TV on the couch. You anxiously wait for your mother to corral you into the car for dinner, hoping this evening won't turn into a blowout. You lay against the armrest with Eddie between your thighs, stroking his hair mindlessly. His hands run up and down your legs in a gentle rhythm, you're both very touchy without even thinking about it. Dustin returns home from his own tests, giving you two a brief greeting and heading to his room to change his shirt. He comes back out to join you and Eddie in the living room. "How'd it go, Dustin?" Eddie pipes up, and Dustin beams at him.

"Easiest. Tests. Ever!" Dustin says, which earns him a high five from Eddie. He plops down into the armchair, crossing his ankles as he smirks in self-satisfaction.

"Good to hear, big guy." Eddie replies with a chuckle, shifting in his spot to get a little closer to you. The three of you talk for a bit, shooting the breeze. A little bit later, Mom emerges from down the hall. She's dressed nicer than usual, and she's wearing a full face of makeup. That's not like her at all. You assume she's trying to impress Angie, for some strange reason.

"Alright, kiddos. Let's hit the road." She says, eyes shifting nervously between your faces. Everyone gathers their shoes and belongings, heading outside to pile into the car. Dustin sits shotgun this time, with you and Eddie in the back. You stare out the window, knee bobbing as your heart rate steadily increases. Eddie notices your nerves, taking your hand in his from across the backseat. You glance over at him, plastering on a smile. He gives you a sympathetic look, telling you everything will be okay in his own special way. Mom pulls the car into a new restaurant at the edge of town, it just opened a few months ago. 'Applebee's Neighborhood Bar & Grill', the large sign with an apple in the logo says.

The parking lot is pretty full, you imagine it's very crowded inside. Mom glances at her watch, telling you that Angie wanted to meet up in the parking lot before heading inside. You all step out of the car, looking around to find a woman with two kids parked somewhere in the crowd. Your eyes fall on an elderly couple leaving after the early-bird special, some young adults going in to watch 'the game', until you land on a woman with bleached blonde hair. She's standing beside a cherry red convertible, with two small children that look the spit of her. "Found them." You say to the group, pointing to let Mom lead the way. Eddie stays glued to your side, not letting go of your hand.

"Hey, Angie!" Mom calls as the four of you walk over. The woman turns to meet her gaze, and you take in her appearance. She's exactly how you pictured. Blonde updo, trashy cheetah-print clothes, gaudy jewelry, and far too much makeup. The typical slut all the married men love to cheat with. Eddie notices your face hardening as you get closer.

"Relax, baby." He whispers in your ear, which softens you slightly. You nod without looking at him, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

"Claudia. Glad you could make it." Angie speaks in a high-pitched, nasally voice. Shit, the jokes are writing themselves. This is gonna be even harder than you thought. "I’m sure your Mom has told you, I’m Angie. And these are my kids, Jake who's seven and Polly who's five." She gestures with her spindly, red fingernails to acknowledge the children who stand silently at her sides. Jake is dressed in overalls and a striped t-shirt, whereas Polly is wearing a pink frilly dress with matching bows. They don't seem to understand who you are, or why they're in this strange place. They clutch Angie's stocking-clad legs, clearly very shy. You feel bad for them, their faces are a little puffy from crying. But then you remember why they even exist, averting your eyes to stop giving them any sign of sympathy.

"Hey there, kiddos! It's nice to meet you! I'm Claudia, and this is my son Dustin, who's seventeen." Mom nudges Dustin to say hello, which he does awkwardly. "And this is my daughter Y/N, who's twenty-one. And her boyfriend, Eddie."

Angie inspects you and Eddie suspiciously, smirking at how battered and bruised you look. You can sense a particular term blossoming in her mind, 'daddy issues'. Well, you're the one that gave them to me, bitch. You think as you glare at her. "Hi." You say incredulously, trying to set her hair on fire with your mind.

"It's nice to meet you, kiddos. George told me about you all the time. Both of you have gotten so big!" You want to punch her, knock that stupid smile off her overly-painted face. How dare she say such a thing, and how dare your father even pretend he gave a shit about you or your brother. Everyone stands in silence for a moment, not sure what else to say. Angie pipes up again, steering clear of the tender subject for the time being. "Well, I called ahead and got us a table! Shall we head inside?" She gestures with her hands to the entrance, clicking on her heels as she walks ahead with Jake and Polly.

"If she keeps up like this, there's gonna be two funerals this week." You mutter through clenched teeth, feeling your blood pressure rise as the seconds pass. Eddie stops the two of you walking, falling behind the group.

"What's wrong?" Mom asks as the others stop to look at you.

"We'll catch up with you, Ms. Henderson. I think Y/N needs a second." Eddie calls, and Mom shrugs before turning to walk inside with the others. Eddie turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Sweetheart, you've gotta calm down." He says, worried that you'll attempt to kill Angie before you even get your order taken.

You sigh harshly, trying to steady your pounding heart. "I know. I just- I can't." You look at him with pleading eyes. You just want to turn around and leave. You don't care what Angie has to say, you don't care about any of this. There's no way you can sit down and eat a meal with that woman.

"Yes you can, Y/N." You shake your head, holding back frustrated tears. "Look, let's take a breather, 'kay? But I'm not letting you back out of this. You're the bravest, and the strongest woman I know. Are you really gonna let that bimbo get under your skin in the first five minutes?" Eddie smirks to encourage you, knowing you're more than capable of handling this. He also knows if he frames this in a way to play into your petty side, you'll be on your best behavior just to spite Angie.

"I hate how good you are at pep talks." You pout, crossing your arms dramatically as you hide a smile. He always knows exactly what to say. "C'mon, let's get this over with." You sigh deeply, pulling him along. The two of you step inside, the restaurant is absolutely bustling. You see Mom and the others at a large corner booth at the back, pointing the way for Eddie to keep up.

"There you two are! I hope it wasn't something I said." Angie greets you when you reach the table. Anger flares behind your eyes again, but you feel Eddie's thumb stroking your hand to soothe you.

"Not at all. It's just been a hard week." You say in a sickly sweet tone, hiding your fury behind fake happiness. You're nauseated by this little act, but you know the saying: 'Fake it til you make it'. Dustin and Angie's kids are sitting on the one end, with Mom and Angie in the middle. This arrangement would force you to sit right next to the whore, when Eddie takes the lead to sit there instead. It ought to keep you from stabbing her with your fork.

"Thanks, Eds." You whisper in his ear, and his hand goes to your thigh to say 'you're welcome'.

"Well, the waitress came by with the menus already and I ordered both of you a beer. I hope that's alright." Angie says, handing two menus off to you and Eddie.

"That's fine. Thanks." You reply, taking a look to see what to order. You really aren't in the mood for food, but it would be rude to not get anything.

"Thank you." Eddie adds, avoiding Angie's gaze. She's taking a closer look at him now, from what you can tell.

"You've certainly picked a handsome one, Y/N." Her nasal squawk rings in your ears. You imagine her scream is probably only audible to dogs.

You notice Eddie's cheeks burning, he must be very uncomfortable under her stare. "Yep, he's absolutely gorgeous, even when he's beaten and bruised. And he's all mine." You can't help getting territorial on your final word, reaching over so she can see you grip Eddie's thigh roughly. He holds back a groan, regretting his decision to put himself between the two of you. "What sounds good to you, darling? Maybe we can share something? I'm not very hungry tonight." You look at him, drawing his face to yours.

"Um...I-I'm not sure. I haven't had a chance to look yet." He says sheepishly, fumbling to open his menu. The conversation turns to how school is going for you and Dustin, plus a few more questions about Eddie and how he got his injuries. The waitress comes by with your drinks, and you happily down a third of your beer in one go. You need some booze if you're gonna make it through this meal. You all rattle off your orders, and you notice Angie ordering a salad. Of course, to keep her slutty figure, right? Eddie struggles to drink from his glass, so you open up a straw and stick it in his beer. "Thanks, baby." He says, bringing the plastic tube to his lips.

Angie brings up your dad a lot more now that the food is going to take a while to be ready. It's odd, you know Mom hasn't told her anything about the last nine years. There's no way. But the manner that Angie speaks in, it's almost like she knows everything about you. Where the hell did she get that from? What is she playing at? The problem you're having overall, though, is that she doesn't seem that bad. Outside of her cheap hooker looks, she's a sweet, caring woman. There's nothing inherently wrong with what she's saying, or the way she's saying it. She's just trying to relate to you. And you hate her for it.

The food arrives a bit later, and the conversation dies down in favor of filling your bellies with burgers, salad, and macaroni and cheese. You and Eddie split a cheeseburger with fries, with you cutting the sandwich in half this time. Eddie's nervous about you holding a knife, but you seem to have cooled off a little for the time being. He glances at your beer glass, noticing it's almost empty. Oh, princess, he thinks to himself, knowing you're trying your best to hold it together. There's moments where he catches a glimpse of you fighting back tears, or concealing a potentially snarky comment towards Angie. He rewards you with some light caresses on your thigh, and your eyes snap to his for a moment.

I hate this, love. You send the words telepathically, hoping he can read your expression. He just nods, moving his hand to your back instead. Your lip trembles occasionally outside your control, it's taking all your inner strength not to fall to pieces. You can't let her see you cry. You can't let her think you're mourning George for a single second. You take a glance at Dustin, who's currently entertaining the little ones. They're actually smiling, giggling even as he shows them some basic magic tricks. Quarter behind the ear, severed thumb, simple stuff. The display is rather cute, and you forget how awful every other part of this evening has been.

The check comes around finally, and Angie insists on paying for everyone. Dad must have been rolling in it at the car dealership she was telling you he worked at. "Hey, Claudia? Can you take Jake and Polly with you to the car? I wanna have that talk with Y/N I was telling you about." She gives Mom a knowing look, which makes your eyebrows knit in confusion. What the fuck is going on here? Claudia leads the kids outside, leaving you, Eddie, and Angie alone at the booth. She scoots down a foot or so, giving you some space. She can tell you weren't too keen on being squished next to her during dinner. She looks at you anxiously, twiddling her manicured thumbs. "So...you're probably wondering what this whole thing is about." She says, waiting for a response.

"Yeah. I truly have no idea what the hell we could possibly have to discuss." You reply, letting your attitude come out to play a little bit. She scoffs, admiring your spunk.

"Well, there's some things I felt you should know before Friday. I can tell you don't like me very much, Y/N. I wouldn't either, if I was in your shoes. You have every right to be angry with me. But I want you to have all the facts before passing judgment." You watch her closely, wondering where she's going with this. When you don't say anything else, she turns to her purse to pull something out of it. It looks like a bundle of letters, envelopes torn open and creased at the rubber band binding them together. Angie slides them across the table, and you catch them in your hand.

"The hell are these?" You ask, assuming they're love letters your father wrote to her or something.

"Those are the reason why I know so much about you, Y/N. When George left your mother, she made it a point to track us down using a private investigator. Once she did that, she started sending those. Every birthday, Christmas, graduation, et cetera, she sent a letter to let him know just what he was missing." Your jaw drops at this revelation, Mom never told you about this. You look at the envelopes to find that, sure enough, they're all addressed from Mom to their new home in Chicago. "She also made a point to tell him to never write back, or call, or visit. She said he lost the right to be your father, and George agreed."

"You're damn right he did." You blurt out, unable to hide your frustration any longer. You lean forward, narrowing your eyes. "So...what? You want me to feel all warm and fuzzy inside after showing me this shit? He felt so awful about leaving my mother for you, his secretary, that he kept these fucking letters as self-punishment?"

"I don't expect you to do anything. I just一 I wanted you to see that he still cared for you, despite his mistakes." Her tone changes, she really expects you to buy this horseshit. Eddie watches wordlessly as you two Duke it out with your words, keeping his hand on you as some form of comfort.

"Well, clearly he cared more about getting some young pussy than being there for me, or Dustin, or my mom." Angie's mouth falls open at that, making her look like a blowup doll. Maybe that was part of her appeal to your father. "Is that all? Because I think we're just about done here." You almost spit your words, wanting to hurt her. You start to stand, before she speaks again.

"I want you to give the eulogy, Y/N." She almost shouts, an effort to keep you from storming out. You plop back down in your seat, looking at her like she's grown a third eye on her forehead.

"What?" You ask, hoping you’ve imagined that last part.

"I want you to give the eulogy at George's funeral. You can say whatever you want, no matter how brutal. I see now how much he hurt you, and I don't take your words personally." She speaks carefully, fully aware that you're brimming with anger and resentment. "I loved your dad, whether you like it or not. You can call me a whore, like the rest of this town does. I probably am one, if I'm being honest. It was wrong of me to break up your family."

"Did it take you a whole decade to figure that out?" You cross your arms, slumping back against the seat.

Angie sighs, placing her hands on the table to regain focus. "Look, obviously things didn't pan out how anyone thought they would. But please, I want you to have this chance to say goodbye, and to let go of the suffering we put you through. Not for my peace of mind, but for yours. That pain you're holding onto for dear life will eat you alive from the inside out, I promise you that." She implores you to listen, to at least consider this idea.

You just gawk at her, wondering if you've gone insane. The one thing you've wanted to do since you found out Dad died, is to tell everyone exactly how you feel about him and what he did. And here is the woman you’ve blamed for all life's problems, offering you that exact opportunity. "I'll think about it." You reply, standing to leave once again. You glance at the letters sitting on the table, before looking at Angie one last time. "Can I keep these?" You ask, wanting to know what exactly Mom wrote. You hope she didn't hold anything back.

"Yes, please. I've probably read them a thousand times. I don't need them anymore." She sniffles, carefully wiping away tears.

You take a second before speaking again. "Just, answer one question for me?" You ask, your own eyes beginning to water.

"Anything, hon." She gives you a small smile, which you can't help returning.

You're unsure why you're about to ask this, but it's like you're being compelled to. You have to know the answer to the one question you've had all these years. "Did he ever want to come back?" Your lip is trembling again, but you don't care if she sees you let go this time.

"Every day, sweetie. Even if it was only to say goodbye, one last time." She assures you, making your hand clench tightly around the bundle of papers.

To be continued...

#fanfiction #hippiegoth97 #smut #stranger things #eddie munson #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you

28 notes · View notes

countrymusiclover · 2 years ago

Text

14 - Best Birthday Gift

Part 15

The Texas Tire Family

Tags just ask - @supernaturalgirl30 @bvbwestfall @bubble-blu @patriciaplictisita @liesanddreams

Pushing open the bedroom door in our apartment I smiled brightly seeing that my husband was still peacefully asleep in our bed. He was doing his best to earn more money since Dale was getting tired of running his shop. I could tell that he was interested in opening up a tire shop since he was looking to work for Mandy’s dad. “Georgie, I have a surprise for you. Wake up sleepy head. I made some waffles.”

“Oh hey babe…you didn’t have to make me breakfast in bed.” He rolled over onto his side so he was facing me. His hair was a mess more than its usual curly mess and he still had his sleepy morning voice.

Sitting the tray down on the bed he scooted over where we could both sit on the bed. “Well I think that my husband and father to my two beautiful children should be treated well on his birthday. Especially when he is turning eighteen years old. That is a big deal.”

“Oh man I totally forgot. You are the best Y/n.” He sat upright starting to quickly dive into eating the waffles and bacon. Laying my head against his shoulder I smiled watching him for a few minutes. I would be turning eighteen in two months so then we would both be adults.

He turned his head holding out the fork feeding me a piece of waffle talking with his mouth full of food. “So what are we gonna do today. Movies or something?”

“I was thinking dinner at the Mexican place. I convinced Meemaw to make you some of your favorite foods for tomorrow night and let the kids help her make it. But tonight I want it to just be us.” I explained leaning forward pressing my lips onto his.

He moved his freehand up to rest against my cheek drawing me in closer to kiss him. He smiled, breaking it when we heard some tiny feet running towards our bedroom. “That sounds perfect, darlin’.”

“Hi daddy!” Aurora and Evelyn both giggled running inside climbing up onto the bed. The pair tackled their father in hugs and kisses almost every morning but this time they were longer since I said it was his birthday.

He made them both giggle and cackle their heads off when he tickled the crap out of them singing a song that he was taught as a child. “The stars at night are big and bright deep in the heart of the Texas. The prairie sky is wide and hot deep in the heart of Texas…remember always four claps never three.” I smiled knowing that no matter how old they are we could never stay mad at them. Our girls would be our whole world.

“What exactly were you two thinking. Stealing the truck and driving through downtown!” I raised my voice at our two daughters sitting in the lobby chairs of where the guys worked at.

Aurora raised her hand trying to say something but she had nothing. “Mom I, we just wanted to see Uncle Sheldon and Aunt Amy.”

“So you didn’t think to wake us and up ask could we take you!” I shouted at her.

Evelyn jumped backwards in her chair whimpering at my raised tone. I never ever really yelled at them until right now. “You guys were too busy with the new baby…”

Georgie turned his head in our direction. He was leaning his back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest frustrated with them. “Well that doesn’t excuse what you two did. You two aren’t allowed to watch tv for two weeks when we get back home and no random trips to Dairy Queen either. You both understand that?”

“I’ll ride back with Penny and Montana. I think it’s better if you have them with you.” Spinning around on my feet I crossed my arms over my chest. He nodded, staring down at me, handing me my jacket that I had thrown off terrified that they were injured when we first came inside.

Penny came inside from one of the doors waving to us when she walked up. “Hey, I can follow you guys home. You know, keep an eye on them if you want. That way you two aren’t worried about little Montana.”

“Uh thanks Penny. That’s great.” I responded following her outside watching our daughters climb in the backseat of her car. Georgie and I went to his truck with me carrying Montana in my arms. Shutting the passenger door with my right hand I cradled my son in my arm’s just watching him sleep like his daddy until what Eve said came back to my mind. “Do you think that Eve was right…that we are focusing too much on this little guy?”

Georgie sent me a look having one hand on the steering wheel. “In his defense he ain’t even one year old yet. So they have nothing to be jealous about.”

“Don’t act like you don’t think about it. Remember when growing up with Sheldon you and Missy always felt left out or ignored. I don’t want anything like that to happen to our girls.” Glancing in his direction we stopped at a red light where he rested his freehand to my cheek being able to tell it was worrying me.

“Hey, stop worrying about it. They are old enough to know that we have to give him extra attention right now since he is a baby. We won’t do what my parents did to them. I promise.” He vowed simply before we made the rest of the drive back to our place. The girls were sent off to their room leaving us alone laying in our bedroom watching Montana sleep in the crib.

Laying my head on Georgie’s chest where he wrapped his arms around my waist. “Even though I am angry at them I can’t stay mad at them forever. Honestly we couldn’t even make it an hour without them on your birthday once.”

“You’re right about that, darlin’. He replied, kissing me gently where I ran one hand through his curly hair remembering his eighteenth birthday.

We entered the restaurant where I was wearing a dark green dress and a Jean jacket thrown over it. I had some ankle brown boots on it. Georgie had on some jeans with a red shirt and we had Connie watching the kids for us. “You really didn’t have to take me out tonight. Especially since we are having dinner with my family tomorrow.”

“Georgie, don’t worry. You deserve to have some fun on your birthday. You only turn eighteen once in your life so let me treat you.” I shrug my shoulders, forking some of his chimechonga since we decided to split just one.

He smiled, shoving some food in his mouth pointing the fork end at me. “It is weird though by this point Eve would have been starting a food fight.”

“Oh right. Remember the time when Aurora decided to stick the cheese sticks in her mouth and pretended to be a walrus. I almost spit out my food that night.”

Georgie snorted, picturing the memory. “The victory dances that they would do when they managed to beat us at bowling when they can use the bumpers…huh crap Y/n. I think we have to head home.”

“You’re missing them too don’t you?” He nodded to my question where I grabbed my coat following him toward the door throwing some money down on the table. He pushed open the door to Meemaw’s house seeing that the girls were passed out under some blankets on the couch meaning that his meemaw was asleep in her own room.

He leaned his elbows on the back of the couch smiling down at the little angels. “Thank you for taking me out for Mexican. But I just want to stay right here. These two make my birthday great.” He kissed me slowly and I smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you too and happy birthday.” Laying my head on his shoulder I smiled Intertwining our hands together. “They really are the best thing to ever happen to you and me.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

270 notes · View notes

writingblognumber1 · 1 month ago

Text

Tbh I don’t love how I’ve written this and I’ve partly lost motivation for it. I hope I get better the more I write but imma upload these last 2 parts anyway. Hope you enjoy

Dad’s best friend Toji part 3

Not really all that smutty tbh

On Tuesdays, you have only one class and it starts at 10. You don’t get out of bed until 9 and when you look at yourself in the mirror, you feel shameful. Never have you let yourself get so caught up in your own feelings. You wanted him so bad it felt like you’d die if you didn’t have him, but you don’t want anyone who doesn’t want you. At that moment, you decide you’ll have more restraint on yourself. When you make it to the kitchen, there’s a note on the whiteboard that’s on the fridge. In messy handwriting, it says breakfast is in the oven. Despite the way you feel, it makes you smile. Toast, eggs, and bacon are tucked into the oven to keep warm for you. You eat quickly and head out for your class.

After class, instead of staying home the rest of the day, you decide to go see your friends for a little while. It’s a great distraction from the events of last night but your mind still finds its way back to Toji. Maybe it’s best to stay out tonight, with a friend. You don’t want to deal with the awkwardness. Your friends invite you to the bar, even though it’s Tuesday, and you say yes. Apparently the drinks are cheaper during the week.

After a few too many shots on a weeknight, you’re feeling good but also a little regretful. You know in the morning you’ll wish you hadn’t done this. Your friend returns from the bathroom and tells you there’s another bar they plan on going to, but you decline. They pout but you wave them away. You’re done for the night so you order an uber to take you home.

Upon entering the home, you notice it’s quiet and dark, except for the light on the staircase. You see movement in the corner of your eye and turn to find Toji sitting on the couch. There’s 2 boxes of pizza on the table.

“Did you have a night class or something?” He asks suddenly, a slight edge to his voice.

“No..”

“Then where were you? Your mom said you weren’t the type to stay out late.”

“Out. With friends. Didn’t know I had a bedtime.” He scoffs at you. Your eyebrows furrow with confusion.

“You could’ve at least told me where you were so I didn’t worry.” You’re in disbelief.

“Sorry to make you worry I didn’t realize you cared so much for my safety.” You sarcastically replied. Toji stands.

“I just want to make sure that, while your parents are away, nothing happens to you.” “Oh, please. Give me a break. You really think they care that much, Toji? Look around.” You gesture to the house. “They’re not here! They’re rarely here. Even when I was younger they were gone a majority of the time. If anything was gonna happen to me it would’ve already happened. No need to act like you’re so worried.”

“Maybe I was worried. Your mom says you’re a good kid and I expected you to be here when I got home. I even ordered us pizza!” You can’t help but feel a little guilty but at the same time, who did he think he was talking to you like this? Did he forget what happened last night?

“Well forgive me for not being here when the events of last night have been haunting me all day. I needed to get out.” Toji walks towards you until he’s only a few feet away. You can’t help it when you look him up and down. He looks tense. You feel an overwhelming urge to soothe him but you stifle it.

“Last night shouldn’t have happened.” You can’t help but laugh.

“Oh. Are you gonna scold me, daddy?” The words slip from your lips before you can hold them back. Your hand is cocked at your hip. Toji moves closer towards you.

“What did you call me?” His voice is low. Threatening.

“What’s wrong daddy? You don’t like it?” Before you can move or say anything else, Toji’s fingers are around the back of your neck. They slip through the back of your hair and he yanks your head back. Your mouth falls open and you gasp.

“Don’t play with me babygirl. You really don’t know what you’re getting into.” You can’t help but moan at his words, your fingers come up to paw at his chest. Your brain melts into nothing and suddenly you feel compliant. A sharp tug in your abdomen has your toes curling in your shoes. This is what you want, no, it’s what you need.

“Please, daddy. I wanna be your good girl.” You breathe out the words. Toji groans and suddenly he’s all over you. Your foreheads lay against each other and he delicately traces his lips over yours. You try to lean forward, to kiss him, but his hand has a tight hold on your hair, forcing you to stay put. He even tugs you back an inch from his face. Toji moves his head to the side of your neck and licks a thick stripe from the bottom of your throat to your ear. You shudder in his hold, arching against him. You’re reminded of your dream you had about him. His smell envelops you. It’s pine and sandalwood and sweet like cherries. Toji softly kisses your ear and whispers,

“But you’re not a good girl. I think you’ve been a bad girl and bad girls don’t get what they want baby.” He releases you suddenly and moves to the stairs. He doesn’t look back at you.

“Go to bed.”

You’re left standing there, head spinning and pussy throbbing, again. Your eyes burn with tears of frustration. You want to march to his room and demand he take care of you, but you don’t. Instead, you go to your room and let the exhaustion take over you.

#jjk #toji fushiguro #toji x reader

11 notes · View notes

fountainpenguin · 1 year ago

Text

"I almost held up a grocery store, where I almost did 5 years and then 7 more..."

---

Well, look what I've pulled out of the ashes! It's been a while, but we've got a new Come What May chapter today!

Chapter 6 - “Talk About Us”

Read on FFN || Read on AO3

Start from Chapter 1

---

No rest for the wicked! Kevin (and an undead iguana) head home from the Cake 'N Bacon with Foop in tow... Maybe the anti-fairy can help with Kevin's ghost problem? Wait, forget that… Didn't Grandmama say Kevin's got a cousin running around Dimmsdale? Finding Remy is WAY more important. Check it out!

(First 1000 words under the cut)

---

Talk About Us

Year of Water, Spring of the Aligned Raindrops

Saturday, May 15th, 2004 - 11:44 am

---

When it comes to I've had the weirdest day, it's hard to top going to lunch with the Grim Reaper and getting handed an iguana. Granted, this wasn't Kevin's first time eating lunch with the old coot, and Foop was still begging for the details. Yeah, Kevin didn't even know where to start with that one. "He's just a long-time friend of my mom's" didn't seem to be cutting it.

Personally, Kevin didn't see what the big deal was. The Grim Reaper had a creepy aesthetic to him - you know, like Marvin and Molly - but all in all, he was just some guy. He picked up odd jobs all over Peachfield to pay off his student loans. Hearing Foop gush over him as Kevin picked at his soup (and his uncle devoured a sandwich) kind of gave him the creeps, like listening to a Kindergartener gush about the local crossing guard.

Is it really THAT weird?

Denise Quinna Crocker was a vampire lover. She volunteered often at the Peachfield nursing home and hung around the elderly. The Grim Reaper also volunteered a lot at the Peachfield nursing home, although probably for a different reason. They shared a love for all things dark, bleak, and undead. And, well… he walked around in a big brown cloak and preferred writing with a quill. Denise Crocker was going to notice that. She'd always been an extraverted woman, and her nosiness knew no bounds. Did you know the Grim Reaper has a birthday? Apparently that's a thing.

"Super lame," Foop scoffed when Kevin tried explaining this over their table at the Cake 'N Bacon. The kid took a massive bite of clam chowder, then went back to coloring spikes and pitfall traps down every path of his kiddie menu maze. "Really, Kevin… I thought you were a cool Crocker."

"Death is overhyped anyway," Kevin muttered back. He'd finished his own soup, apart from some final chunks of celery and clams. He gripped his spoon like a bungee cord and stabbed it in the bowl. You know, the explanation of how he'd come to know the Grim Reaper may have been short, but lingering in the poorly lit diner with his uncle and a little kid - not to mention a hissing iguana - felt even more distracting.

Were people whispering about them? Kevin kept glancing around, watching Vicky weave back and forth between the tables with her pitcher. Was the iguana invisible or something? No one else had reacted to it yet. Once, when Vicky turned around with her scarlet ponytail bouncing, her eyes locked on Kevin's. She scrunched her nose at him, brows drawing low. Somehow, that look sort of curdled his skin. Kevin dropped his gaze to his empty soup bowl, his heart pounding like a crushed car on a conveyor belt. His phone hung like a brick in his hand. Great. Its cold, blank screen just surfaced the reminder that

Can we go yet?

The Cake 'N Bacon's clam chowder did taste delicious. It lifted Kevin's spirits a bit from the slump they'd plunged into after he was denied a visit to the Buxaplenty place, but it definitely didn't fill his stomach. He made a mental note to order a sandwich alongside the soup if he ended up eating here again, but he was more than ready to leave once their bill was paid. His skin itched like mad. He kind of wanted to wash his hands and splash his face just to shake off some of the general weirdness of the day, but he'd already used the bathroom once since they got here and he was pretty sure the waitresses would stare if he squeezed past them to go again.

At last, Uncle Denzel stood and shooed Foop off the other end of their booth. He said he had to swing by the Dimmsdale pet store to get iguana food and that he'd need to use the bathroom too before he left, so Kevin offered to walk home by himself. "I want to see more of Dimmsdale," he told his uncle, staring up with the widest blue eyes he could manage, and his uncle bought the lie.

In truth? Anything, even walking around the California outdoors on a hot day like this one, had to be better than another reckless drive in the back of the Unsuspecting Van.

"I'll go with you," Foop chirped, grabbing his crayons and menu from the table. Once they were in his hands, he vaporized both in a small puff of smoke. Kevin blinked tiredly at him, but didn't dare voice a complaint.

"Sure, let's go with that. I've never really talked with an anti-fairy before, except when you showed up on the doorstep this morning. This could be a great learning experience for me. I mean, I am supposed to be studying abroad for a semester. Maybe I can write a paper on anti-fairies for extra credit."

"You cannot!" came Uncle Denzel's cheerful voice. He rustled Kevin's hair with his big hand before scooting past him to the bathroom. "Oh! Kevin, take that sorry excuse for a lap dragon back home with you when you go. I've got errands to run and a tiny bladder to hold me over. You'll probably beat me there!"

Uhh…

So this was an interesting predicament. Kevin eyed the iguana, who'd shoved its face in Foop's soup bowl and started munching on the last traces of clams. That so-called "sorry excuse for a lap dragon" was still an oversized, shimmery green iguana with a crest like a rooster's and a big throat pouch now dripping with specks of soup. Its long toes ended in creepy, curled talons. Its yellow eyes rolled in its head.

Kevin glanced down at Foop, who stood stiffly beside him in his childish human disguise. He could almost pass as a normal kid, you know… if it weren't for the mustache, goatee, and wide lavender eyes. Those eyes blinked nervously up at Kevin. Apparently, Foop considered touching reptiles to be outside his job description as "Uncle Denzel's best friend" and Kevin really didn't blame him. Even if it sucked.

[Cnt'd on FFN / AO3 - Links at top]

#Fairly OddParents #FOP #Kevin Crocker #Denzel Crocker #Foop #Come What May #Little Crock #Big Crock #ridwriting #FAIRIES!#Nerdy blue bat son #Gary and Betty #Red babysitter #Mark Chang #Remy Buxaplenty #apparently art #fic announcement

26 notes · View notes

yssjj · 1 year ago

Text

erasing meaning from gangnam style

Since we’re an Asian-interest magazine, I’m going to assume that you know what K-pop is, if you aren’t vaguely familiar with it. Living through the 2000s has been a very exciting time for Korean identities in the mainstream. One could sense the time dependence of my identity in the US; in elementary school, I mostly interfaced with the American joke wondering if I had come from the North or South, which failed to consider that all of my grandparents had come from the North, and would never see their family or friends again due to US intervention. But by high school, my fortunes had turned around! At this point, we were being accosted in Marshalls by well-meaning parents who wanted to ask us about BTS because their daughter looooved K-pop, which raised another question: how did they know we were Korean in a primarily Chinese community?

But regardless of my personal bitterness, it’s important (to me) to consider how this happened. And it was a gradual change, to some extent, but really a large paradigm shift happened to change the visibility of the Korean identity in the US, around when I was in 6th grade. K-pop at this point had been what my other Korean friend and I watched on old YouTube during playdates for her to fangirl over, and for me to vaguely stare off into. It’s not like K-pop hadn’t had any international success, but it felt limited to the Korean-American diaspora and niche internet communities. “Gee” by Girls Generation is a song I would like to argue really first crossed the border into mainstream success, but I think that’s wishful thinking for an iconic song I happen to like (seriously, go watch it).

I don’t think it would be a controversial statement to say that “Gangnam Style'' was a really big deal. Statistically speaking, it topped iTunes charts in 31 different countries, it was the first video with a billion views, and it’s still the 11th most watched video on YouTube. But I’m sure just mentioning it brought you back to whatever you were doing while I was arguing about how stupid Harry Styles and Call of Duty were (I wasn’t a particularly critical-thinking middle schooler). Gangnam style was all over the radio, blessing my 7 a.m. rides to school in my mom’s Corolla, and I’d climb back onto my main after-school activity of the desktop computer to see the thumbnail on YouTube before clicking away and watching two very large buff men put together a mega burger made out of bacon instead.

Not that I had a global perspective of things at the time, but what was interesting about the virality of “Gangnam Style” is that it seemed to originate from completely different reasons across the US and its original target audience in Korea. I sensed this as one does through the American cultural hegemony, another middle schooler friend, who confided to me that it was great that Korea would be seen in such a positive light thanks to “Gangnam Style”. I wasn’t sure. I felt a little uneasy knowing that my cultural diplomat was PSY freaking out over a lady’s ass.

“It’s awesome,” the guy who oversaw our after-school pick-up told me.

“Did you know,” I said, pausing my round of Touhou 7 that I would bring in on a USB, “that it’s actually about capitalist critique?” I had learned this after Googling the lyrics because it felt a little rude to not know what a song in my own language meant. I wasn’t 100% sure what that meant, either, but they were words I knew went together according to Tumblr.

The entire video, really, made me a little nervous. Who was I in the eyes of others at school? PSY? Who even was he?

I didn’t really want to be associated with this goofy Korean man who wasn’t very handsome. I wanted to be taken seriously.

We can chalk this up to the nervous identity crisis and desire for acceptance of any middle schooler, but this difference in understanding “Gangnam Style” wasn’t just personal, but a symptom of cultural differences. Not just cultural differences, but a refusal to translate or understand the spectacle of Korean messaging in the US. We can look at this with post-feminist theory as well as the pervasive use of ironic justification in the 2000s-2010s.

Background history

In Korea, PSY was already known for being a runaway success, starting as an underground artist who began to produce hit after hit, starting in 2001 with the success of his first full-length album because of his non-traditional styling (compared to the extremely polished and conventionally attractive looks of K-pop groups), use of comedic lyrics, as well as vulgar lyrics criticizing Korean society. So “Gangnam Style” wasn’t a far departure from that.

The lyrics of “Gangnam Style” feature a guy who describes himself as “macho” and wants a girl who “looks quiet but parties hard when she goes to party,” or is “sexier covered up than a girl who is scantily dressed.” This narrator’s thoughts lean into the post-feminist sexism of the idea of a “girl who isn’t like other girls,” but PSY openly mocks the narrator’s preferences through the narrator’s parallel ideas on his own looks and perceived attractive features. This narrator brags that he also “can get crazy passionate” and “has bulging brains instead of bulging muscles.” While not necessarily as applicable in the Korean feminist scene during this time period, in the US this can be understood as the attempt to validate “alternative masculinities” that are not based on the traditions of physical power, but instead “intelligence” that became popular in the 2000s and 2010s.

The hook, “Oppa Gangnam style,” can be understood as the narrator calling himself a cool guy from the Gangnam district, which can be thought of as posturing that you’re from a rich, high-culture district. The classical comparison is to Beverly Hills, but you can also think of people who brag about going to Harvard, being snotty about New York City, or so on. It mocks the idea of constructed masculinity through materialistic attempts at class mobility with commercial goods (the Mercedes car) and images of lifestyle (lounging at a “beach,” going to high-end spas) by showing these as tasteless, corny, and crass. “Gangnam Style” critiques the materialistic culture of Korean youths, who aspire to come off as rich and upper class through elegance and “taste.” But PSY lampoons this through an overtly corny music video that claims that he is portraying these “elegant” people who ultimately are chasing after masculine ideals of being considered attractive and meeting women who are feminine ideals in aesthetics. These men treat women like objects because they believe that they can achieve their masculinity through materialism and class.

But how many Americans know that “Gangnam Style” is a satirical critique of Korean materialism?

At the risk of being unfair, my two examples certainly didn’t know. Most other K-pop music videos have English captions, including the videos that were released before “Gangnam Style” caused a huge growth in interest in the genre. But “Gangnam Style,” 10 years after it’s been released, still has no translations on the video itself. Which seems strange since so much of the music video is guided by the lyrics. If the lyrics are lost on the American audience, where does the international appeal come from?

International Appeal

The answer is that the themes behind the lyrics were never part of the appeal. Most of the appeal comes from the music video. T-Pain tweeted, “words cannot even describe how amazing this video is...”, which is directly linked to the skyrocketing popularity of the video as news sites began to cover it. So the virality of “Gangnam Style” in the US must be studied through the lens of pleasure removed almost completely from the lyrics. Taking the music video at face value, then, we can get a different reading using post-feminist themes of irony, the choice of objectification, masculinities, as well as the construction of the consumer through advertising and sexuality.

The positive response to “Gangnam Style” has generally been attributed to the absurdist nature of the scenes in the video, as well as the dance itself. The Washington Post claimed that “'Gangnam Style' has made an extraordinarily stupid-looking dance move suddenly cool,” ignoring the fact that the dance was chosen to look stupid in the first place.

The Sydney Morning Herald claimed that the video “makes no sense at all to most Western eyes" and it "makes you wonder if you have accidentally taken someone else's medication."

The deliberate removal of meaning from the video is reminiscent of Adorno’s concept of the culture industry. The video loses the power of “psychology” over the “structure” of the music video. The Western viewers thus avoid the confrontation of culture in the music video by brushing the visual themes aside as “meaningless.” So it becomes “uncritical fun” and viewers can thus transcend the need to even know the lyrics. There is a racial aspect to this as well—the Korean-focused message is brushed aside since it “makes no sense at all” to a Westerner. So the minority Korean message is subjugated and destroyed, made invisible by mocking the silly Asian man doing his silly dance. In this way it becomes pleasurable to an audience that may otherwise be alienated by its themes.

Another way “Gangnam Style'' is understood in the US is through sexuality, as advertisements and other video forms have already created this sexualized “set of images.” It is likened to LMFAO, probably in reference to “Sexy and I Know It” for their satire of the grandstanding of masculinity. But LMFAO creates satire through the focus on male genitalia and body humor. The comparison of “Sexy and I Know It” can be understood by “Gangnam Style'' being seen as a video about a satire on male sexuality instead of consumerism, with American viewers focusing on the nudity and Noh Hongchul’s pelvic-thrusting dance. The latter dance is actually a trademark of Noh Hongchul’s comedy acts, but the American audience doesn’t know this, and thus interprets it in the language of images they are familiar with. As Sut Jhally puts it in “Advertising, Gender and Sex: What’s Wrong with a Little Objectification?”, the viewers are informed through the “system of images'' that are present in American society, and also happen to be obsessed with “gender and sexuality.” The one English lyric in the song is “Hey, sexy lady”—which adds to this perception and leads to a later ironic reading of other scenes where women are sexualized.

So of course there is no closed captioning—PSY understands the appeal for American audiences includes taking the lyrics as nonsensical and meaningless.

Another distinctly American reading occurs for the objectification of women, notably the yoga lady image that became the icon of “Gangnam Style.” With the context of the lyrics, it’s clear that this is a direct critique of the sleazy nature that comes from commodifying women. The women present in the music video are also traditionally beautiful, with the woman who seems to be interested in PSY in the music video being an idol herself. Without the context of the lyrics that deconstruct the delusion of a romantic, classy lifestyle where women only have value from being traditionally beautiful, however, this scene is transformed into the post-feminist “irony” that Rosalind Gill talks about in her paper “Postfeminist Media Culture.” American viewers thus participate in the sexualization of these women by the constructed “silliness” of the music video. By making “Gangnam Style” absurdist and bereft of meaning, PSY’s yoga lady scene is seen as “funny” and “subversive” towards sexism, even though the original critique is on materialism and commodification.

The real absurdity is the American response to “Gangnam Style” as a force to “understand Korea” in the US by Obama, and even as a way to hail world peace by the UN.

Even Noam Chomsky was part of an MIT parody of “Gangnam Style,” partaking in “mindless fun.” I felt a little disturbed at the time that this might be the image of Korea constructed for the American mind as actual interest in the culture was swept away by the exaltation of the video as nonsensical and meaningless. As a 6th grader, this wasn’t how I framed it to myself, but the way the Western viewpoint became dominant over the original meanings of the video signaled to me that my Korean experience would become destroyed and overwritten by the white, American viewpoint. The post-feminist mindset also created a post-racial mindset where irony was used to mock other cultures, setting a white gaze in media much like the male gaze asserted by Laura Mulvey in “Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema.” That’s why so many TV shows were able to partake in blackface (like The Office and 30 Rock, just to name a few) and take pleasure in unashamed racial violence—to the white gaze, it is funny, because the original meaning of racial violence can be stripped away.

References

Gill, Rosalind. “Postfeminist Sexual Culture.” The Routledge Companion to Media & Gender, https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203066911.ch54.

Horkheimer, Max, et al. Dialectic of Enlightenment. Stanford University Press, 2020.

Jhally, Sut. “Advertising, Gender and Sex: What's Wrong with a Little Objectification?” (1989).

Mulvey, Laura. Visual Pleasure and Narrative Cinema. 1999.

#laura mulvey #male gaze #gangnam style #psy #korean identity #postfeminism #etc. who cares #writing

10 notes · View notes

isabellavolere · 2 years ago

Text

Transformers Prime—Part 3: First Day of School

Masterlist

<-Previous Part

Next Part->

The blast knocks you to the ground and you clutch your shoulder in pain. You turn over and its face looms over you, the red lights of its visor burning a hole in your mind. The triangle blaster lights up and you close your eyes, waiting for the shot that will end everything. A loud crashing makes your eyes jerk open and you see the red robot straddling the purple one, his fists colliding over and over again with the purple robots’ body. After one last solid blow the purple robot struggles no more and you struggle to your feet. The red robot turns to you and the last thing you see is him, the red body, the silver face, the broken off horn.

You awake with a start, your heart pounding and your breath unsteady. A drop of sweat drips down the side of your face and you swing your legs over the side of your bed.

You’ve been thinking about the day you met those strange metal robots for days, the scene playing on repeat in the back of your head, but at night the scene came alive.

You shake your head and stand up, wanting to get ready since today is the first day of your new school. You put on a white shirt with bold black letters that reads ‘Me? Sarcastic? Never!’ And a pair of navy blue cargo shorts. You brush through your tangled hair, braid it, and pull the strand of hair through a denim baseball cap. For the finishing touch you tie a red bandana around your wrist, then grab your backpack. When you walk into the kitchen you find your mom sitting at the dining room table eating Cheerios while flipping through a Real Style magazine. She notices you walking in and says “Morning y/n. I made you breakfast, it’s on the island.”

You thank her, grab the baCon’ she made, and go to the front hall to get your f/c Converse High Tops. When you come back to the kitchen, your mom takes out her phone and snaps a picture of you.

“Ack mom!” you say and shield your face in case she wants more pictures.

“I’m sorry, but look at you! My baby girl’s going to 10th grade at her new school in her cute little outfit,” She says.

“It’s not supposed to be cute, it’s supposed to be laid back,” you say as you cross your arms and fake pout. “Can I go now? Please?”

Your mom makes an overly dramatic sigh.

“Okay fine! No pictures. But, I’m driving you to school, let’s go.”

“What?” You ask. “I injured my arm, not my legs.”

Your mom rolls her eyes and replies “It’s your first day of school, I’m driving you there. Besides, I want to make sure the walkway is good.”

Yes because I’m sure so many sketchy things happen in the middle of Jasper.

You decide against voicing that last thought, instead shrugging your shoulders, earning a flash of pain from your right shoulder, and walking to the truck. After a 10 minute drive you reach the school and your mom pulls in along the curb.

“Wow. You know I’m not sure I can walk to school every day. That 10 minute drive will surely double if I walk,” you joke, living up to your sarcastic shirt.

Your mom lightly hits your leg and says “It’s a good thing that sense of humor of yours survived your biking wreck. What a shame it would be if you lost it.”

You grin and say “I learn from the best.”

Grinning back, she says “Have a great day at school sweetheart.”

Leaning across the truck, your mom proceeds to give you a death squeeze.

“Mom! I can’t breathe!” you say laughing. But she gives seriously tight hugs.

“Sorry, I’m just excited for your first day.”

“I think you're more excited than I am,” you say in a flat tone.

“Oh you’re going to be just fine,” she says.

You open the door, sling your backpack over your good shoulder, and walk up the front steps of your new school. It’s a two story brick building with a tan roof. Small square bushes line the sidewalk and a large oak tree stands by the side of the road. Students are scattered in front of the school and the idol chatter and laughter of the teenagers wafts through the warm and breezy day. You push your way through the crowd and walk through the double doors. You see a large circular desk in the middle of the school, with a small golden plaque on top of the dark wood that reads ‘front desk’ in a dark gray script. As you walk up to the desk you can see a man you guess to be around the age of 20 typing furiously on a small Chromebook. You can see several stickers of various video game logos placed haphazardly on the back of the computer. You recognize the pixelated grass block of Minecraft, the tilted white square of Roblox, the yellow gear and black 76 of Fallout 76, and many others. The man is wearing a bright turquoise shirt with bright pink flamingos, khaki shorts, black framed glasses, and has untidy brown hair.

Wow that shirt is an assault to my eyes. I wonder where he got it.

“Umm excuse me Mr…” you look down at his name tag. “Morison?”

He looks up and arranges his glasses, his hazel eyes pausing briefly on the bandages wrapped around your shoulder, before meeting your gaze and fixing you with a lopsided grin.

“You can call me Scott. How can you help?”

“Um, well I just moved here. Could you give me my class schedule please?”

“Sure thing! What’s your name?”

“It’s y/l/n, y/n y/l/n.”

You wait as he clicks on your name on the screen, fiddling with the end of the bandage that hangs by your right elbow.

“Ah, here we go. Let me print this out for you. So y/n, where did you move from, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Colorado.”

“Really? I’m from Colorado! What part are you from?”

“Parker. How about you?”

“I’m from Castle Rock.”

“Cool. It’s nice to know someone from Colorado.”

“Likewise!”

Just then a dull ringing reverberates throughout the school, signaling the start of class.

“Well, welcome to Jasper. I’m sure you’ll love it here," says Scott. “This is your schedule. Your first class is history with Miss. Grizwald. The class is upstairs, down the hall, third door on your right.”

You grab the schedule that Scott hands you, thank him, then turn around to look for your class.

“Let's see...Up the stairs, okay then down this hall. Yep, and the third door on the right,” you mumble to yourself as you shuffle through the school.

You find the class and take a deep breath before knocking on the door. A short, ancient looking woman opens the door. Her silvery hair is tied up in a tight bun on her head and a strong cloud of perfume reaches your nose. You can’t help your nose from wrinkling.

How old is this teacher? She looks like she’s at least 150 years old, and her perfume is going to choke me!

“Well?” She barks in a stern voice. “You are five minutes late!” you gulp but bravely meet her gaze.

“I-I-I’m a new student. My-my name's y/n ma’am.”

She reminds you of the substitute teacher from Percy Jackson.

“Well that’s no excuse to be late, hmm? Go find a seat, and be snappy about it!”

You quickly brush past her and start walking quickly down the center aisle. You hardly notice the kids that you pass until a head of messy jet black hair sitting a few rows away from the front catches your eye.

“Jack?” you blurt out and he looks up, surprise and recognition showing in his face.

“I’m pleased you seem to already have a friend, but do you think you can hold your enthusiasm until the end of class?” says Miss. Grizwald in a crisp voice.

You flinch and mumble a small sorry before rushing to find an empty desk. The only empty desk is two seats behind and one row to the left of Jack. Naturally. The desk is the only one left open for a reason. It’s covered in small doodles, previous peers’ names, and crossed out swear words. Wads of gum who’s color had long faded stick to the underside of the desk. When you sit down the chair squeaks and wouldn’t sit level, instead opting to sway from leg to leg.

The class is dull, and you and Jack spend most of it looking anywhere but each other. Every time you locked eyes, your faces would go promptly back to focusing on the class. When your morning classes finish you walk to your locker to drop off your books and get your lunch. The locker is a faded tan color and the paint chips off in a few places. It takes you a few tries to unlock the lock, but when you get the locker open the first thing you notice is the smell. It is a sharp metallic smell that makes you gag and you make a mental note to bring a car air freshener to hang on the door. By the time you find the lunchroom the tables are packed with kids. As you stand by the doorway scanning the room for an empty chair, you hear your name being called. You look around and see Jack and the younger boy from yesterday waving and gesturing for you to come over to them. You walk over to the two boys and greet them with a small smile.

“Hey. I think all of these tables are taken. Do you want to eat outside with us?” Jack asks.

You shrug and say “Sure.”

The boys lead you through a set of double doors to a small courtyard behind the school. A gushing stream filled with tiny pebbles rushes past several tall oak trees and ends in a glittering pond filled with orange, white, yellow, and black coy fish. In between the trees and the pond sits a long wooden bench, and is covered by all sorts of names carved into every square inch of the tan wood. You sit down on the bench under the shade of the oak trees and the boys follow. You open your lunch bag and start eating a turkey and cheese sandwich.

After a few minutes of silence Jack looks at the younger boy and says “You know, I don’t think I got your name.”

“I’m Raf. What’s your name?” He asks.

“My name is Jack,” he says and turns to you. “You’re y/n, right?”

“Yep, that’s me,” you Con’firm.

“I guess with all those robots we didn’t really have time for introductions,” says Raf.

“The Con’s, or whatever they call themselves,” you say as you furrow your brows.

You flash-back to the day that purple Con’’ shot you. You can see his faceless features, gun pointed at your head, arm ready to fire the shot that would kill you. Or would have, if it weren’t for that red robot.

“They were the ones who did that to your arm, didn’t they?” Jack asks.

You realize he was looking down at the bandage that was wrapped around the top of your shoulder and down to just above your elbow. Biting your bottom lip, you nod slowly.

“What happened to it?” Raf asks tentatively.

“Well, I might as well tell you the whole story. It all started when I came across these robots when I was dirt biking in the woods,” you begin. “I was riding down a path and saw a big crater up ahead. I was going too fast to stop so I kicked the bike out from under me and slid down the side of the crater. That’s when I noticed a bunch of the purple robots fighting a red robot. It wasn’t going well for the red robot, he was outnumbered and needed a distraction, so I got its attention and threw a rock at it, which wedged itself into where the heart of the robot should have been, causing it to explode.”

“Whoa whoa whoa hold on!” Raf stops you, his eyes wide. “You see this giant metal robot getting attacked by a bunch of other robots and instead of running away, you throw a rock at one of them!?”

“Yes I did. As I was saying, when I threw the rock all the robots started chasing me and shooting. Since my dirt bike was at the top of the crater I tried to climb the rock but it was too steep. The purple robots were coming for me so I started running around the edge of the crater, but one of the robots got a lucky shot and hit my shoulder. The impact knocked me to the ground and the bot that shot me caught up. He pointed his gun at me and would have finished me off if it weren't for the red robot.

He came and tacked the purple robot out of the way, then started beating it up. Now, I was hit pretty hard, but I will never forget when he picked me up and then sort of transformed around me. I don’t know how, but he turned into this Dodge Challenger and I was sitting in the passenger seat, or, I guess the body of the robot. Anyway, I-“

“The robot picked you up and transformed into a car around you?” Jack asks.

“Yes!” You respond, a little frustrated at the interruptions.

“Like I was saying, I began to hear voices coming from the car radio. I think the red robot knew who they belonged to because he was talking with them. As I was listening to the Con’versation I learned that the robots that were shooting at me are called DeceptiCon’s. So the red robot was driving through the forest when this gray robot sort of appeared and he slams on his brakes. Then he transforms again and I’m sitting in his hand while the new robot starts shooting at us. Apparently it was my day for near death experiences because the gray bot shoots the red bots’ arm and I go flying to the ground, landing at the gray bots feet.”

You pause to take a big breath of air and then Con’tinue with your story.

“So the gray bot picked me up and was threatening to squish me or whatever. All of a sudden someone yells Cliff, which I guess is a nickname for the red bot, and all these robots come from out of nowhere with their guns loaded. But of course they didn’t want to risk hurting me if they missed the robot so I summoned up all the strength I had left and kicked him in the face! It felt pretty good too. Well naturally he drops me, which is like 10 feet off the ground, and I-“

“You kicked him in the face!? That’s awesome!” Raf pumps his fist in the air.

You just look at him and say “Thank you, but hush and let me finish!”

Raf drops his hands in his lap and looks at you sheepishly.

“So I drop to the ground and run back to my dirt bike, then ride as fast as I can back to my house. I totally freaked out every time I heard a car. By the time I got home the adrenaline rush I was riding wore down, and I pretty much collapsed onto my bed. And then there was the whole thing with meeting you guys. So now here we are.”

As you finish your story, you can’t help but chuckle at the reactions of the two boys. Rafs’ eyes are the size of saucers and his mouth hangs open while Jack looks equal parts concerned and terrified.

They are silent for a long time before Jack asks, “So, if we’ve all seen the evil robots, are we all in danger? I mean how else would they have found us at the restaurant if they weren’t following you?”

You frown and look at him, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

“If you two are in danger because of me...” but you can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. You are all quiet again, each lost in thought. Dimly you hear the bell ring signaling that classes were starting again, but you are so lost in thought that the sound barely registers in your head.

“Well that’s the school bell. We should probably get to our classes,” says Raf.

“Yeah probably,” you respond. “I guess I’ll see you guys later.”

You grab the empty plastic bag that holds your sandwich. With all the talking you hardly ate the rest of your lunch. Quickly you begin eating the other food as you walk to your locker.

What if Jack and Raf are in danger because of me? What if they get hurt? I be the one to blame?

***

When the school bell finally rings, signaling that school is over, you rush to pack up your school books. You sling your backpack over your good shoulder and then walk out of the classroom, joining the wave of students pushing their way out of the school. As you are walking through the doors the sun shines brightly in your eyes and you bring a hand up to your face, hoping to shield your eyes, but it doesn't help much. You let the flow of students push you along but a backpack comes out of nowhere and hits you in the chest. You fall sideways and stumble into a girl who is sitting on the railing of the stairs, brows furrowed in concentration as she sketches something on a notepad. As you look at her more closely you can see that the girl is Asian. She is wearing a pink tee shirt with a navy blue tank top and jean shorts that has a bright yellow belt. Her hair is black and streaked with hot pink highlights.

“Sorry!” you say as you adjust the strap on your backpack.

“y/n, over here.”

You turn to see Jack and Raf standing under a tree a few feet to the right.

You walk over to them and say “Hey guys.”

Jack was just about to respond when you hear a car beep and you see a black and yellow Camaro pull up next to the tree.

“Oh, not again!” Jack mumbles as the door to the car opens.

The car makes a series of beeps and you frown slightly.

“It wants us to get in?” you guess, already dreading the answer.

“No,” says Raf. “Just me.”

“How do you know that?” Jack asks.

“It said so. Yours is over there,” he says and points behind you and Jack.

You watch as Raf gets into the passenger seat of the car. The Camero shuts the door and speeds off, kicking up a cloud of dust. You and Jack cough a few times before turning around to see a red Dodge Challenger and a blue motorcycle parked in the lot in front of the high school. Images start to flash before your eyes, the purple DeceptiCon’s, the muzzle of the bots’ gun just inches from your face, the inside of the Dodge Challenger, the little metal face on the steering wheel, and worst of all, the grin of that gray robot.

“That red car’s the one who you were talking about, right? The one that saved you?” Jack asks, seeming to have noticed your slightly paling face.

You nod slowly, eyes glued to the car that has haunted your dreams for days. After everything that has happened to you, after getting shot by the Con’s’, almost squished to death by that gray robot, nearly getting you and Jack killed…the red Challenger flashes his headlights twice at you and you suck in a breath. You know you can’t face him, not now. You turn around quickly and start walking down the sidewalk towards your home. You start to get lost in thought again when you hear Jack jogging to catch up to you. You both turn down an alleyway and reach the middle of it before the motorcycle skids to a stop in front of us, a blue and black leather-clad lady with a black racing helmet sitting on her.

“Relax, I just wanna talk to you,” she says.

“Don’t you mean you and your leather-clad friend?” Jack accuses.

“Kid, there’s a lot you don’t understand,” says the motorcycle as the lady pixelizes and vanishes.

“No, I get it. The first rule about robot fight club is you don’t talk about robot fight club. What you need to understand is that I don’t want a bunch of crazy talking vehicles following me around, trying to get me killed! I’ve seen what those purple robots can do to people.”

Jack quickly glances at your shoulder, then looks back at the robot, backing away. He turns around and is about to leave the alley when the red Dodge Challenger pulls up, blocking Jack's escape.

“What took you, Cliffjumper?” Asks the blue robot. “You were right behind me.”

“There was a red light!” He retorts.

The blue motorcycle transforms and rolls her eyes as Cliffjumper transforms as well.

“Look, Jack and y/n, is it? Your personal safety is exactly why Optimus Prime has requested your presents.

“Optimus who?” Jack questions.

“He’s the tall red and blue robot with the deep voice from a few nights ago, isn’t he?” you guess.

“Optimus has been especially worried about your safety. It seems like you're very popular with the Con’s. Two mash ups in two days? You’ve got to be a legend up at Con’’ HQ!” says Cliffjumper, smiling as you look up at him. “Hey there. Glad to see the Con’s didn’t hurt ya too badly. I thought you were scrapped for sure!”

“And because of that,” the blue robot says, redirecting the conversation,” you might be one of the few, one of the only who have ever seen us.”

“Dudes, what are you waiting for? Go with!”

You turn around and see the Asian girl with black hair and bright pink highlights that you had run into earlier. She was leaning around the wall of the alley and was apparently unfazed by the fact that she just found two humans next to two giant talking robots.

“Scrap!” Exclaims both robots at the same time.

“Well, should we bring her with us?” Cliffjumper asks, turning to the blue robot.

“I guess we have to,” says the blue robot, though you notice she doesn’t sound thrilled. Cliffjumper nods and transforms into his car form, revving his engine and opening the passenger side door.

“You wanna ride with me kid?” He asks.

You look back at the new girl and Jack, then slip inside the car. You reach over your shoulder to put your seatbelt on but Cliffjumper says “Allow me” and buckles you in. The belt gently tightens around you and the door closes with a soft bang.

“Uh, thanks,” you say uncertainly.

“I’ve got to say, it’s nice to officially meet you. Which reminds me,” he says as he pulls out onto the road, “I don’t think I properly introduced myself. I’m Cliffjumper, and my partner is Arcee.”

“I-I’m y/n.”

“Pleased to meet ya y/n,” He laughs.

It’s a smooth, rolling laugh that makes you smile. His voice is like that too, calm and smooth so that when he talks low his voice rumbles. It reminds you of the thunder storms that would roll through the mountains and valleys of the Rocky Mountains.

You lean back in the seat and prop your elbow on the side of the door, staring out of the window as buildings and houses pass by. Absent-mindedly you begin to mess with the door, stroking your finger up and down the latch. A shudder passes through the car and your hand retracts quickly, like you’d been burned. You fold your hands in your lap, mumbling a faint “sorry.”

“It’s alright. I guess I’m just not used to humans sitting in me,” Cliffjumper says.

I hadn’t thought that I’m sitting in Cliffjumper. This feels weird.

“Have you ever met a human before?” you ask curiously.

“I’ve only met one human, but I don’t like him very much,” He says.

You were kind of disappointed, you’d hoped to be the first person he met.

Seeming to read your thoughts, Cliffjumper quickly adds “But you’re the first human kid that I’ve met. And, the first person I’ve been able to drive around.”

You nod and look out the window, where the buildings and houses were much more spread apart.

We must be driving though the outskirts of town. I wonder if he’s driving me somewhere in the desert.

Sure enough you pass a green sign marking the end of the city limits.

“Umm, not to be rude or anything, but where are you taking me?” you ask, wondering how much farther the drive will be.

“If you told you I’d have to kill ya,” says Cliffjumper in a solemn voice.

A moment of silence fills the car, then he laughs and says “Kidding! You don’t think our base was in the town did you? It had to be somewhere no one would go snooping around to find it. Speaking of bases, we’re here.”

You look around excitedly, but all you see are spikey green cacti with pink and yellow blossoms scattered along a dusty, sprawling landscape. Towering mesas cast shadows that stretch across the sandy desert. You look through Cliffjumpers’ windshield and see that the road you have been driving on ends up ahead. A stop sign marks the end of the road but Cliffjumper flies past it, heading straight for a huge mesa that looms overhead.

“Uhh, Cliffjumper?” you squirm slightly in your seat as the wall of rock gets closer and closer.

“Do you trust me?” He asks.

“Wait what? What are you doing?” you brace, waiting for the impact that would come from driving head-long into a wall. Just as you were about to crash, a section of the seemingly solid wall slides to the side to reveal a dimly lit tunnel that winds through the rock.

“Huh. Thought for sure you would scream. You're braver than you look, kid,” Cliffjumper says, sounding impressed.

“I suppose after almost being killed by giant metal robots twice, little will shake me at this point,” you contemplate.

“Fair point,” says Cliffjumper.

You flash a grin, but your jaw practically drops to the floorboard as your brain struggles to comprehend what your eyes are seeing.

Masterlist

<-Previous Part

Next Part->

#Transformers prime #x reader #female reader #cliffjumper #optimus prime #tfp #reader insert #transformers prime x reader insert #arcee #jack #raf #miko

20 notes · View notes

natalievoncatte · 2 years ago

Text

Updating Tomorrow: Nothing to Fear

Kara remained stock still, barely daring to breathe. With a quick flick of her eyes, she scanned the area with her x-ray vision. There were sixteen hostages besides James, including Snapper Carr, and Kara knew them all. By some dark miracle, Nia wasn't here. She must have been out on assignment or conducting an interview or perhaps had simply stepped out for some innocuous reason. It itched the back of Kara's mind, the timing.

No significant injuries. No bombs, no weapons other than what they carried. The Joker himself carried only a revolver under his coat and the switchblade he was tenderly stroking against James's cheek, as if giving him an expert shave. His mirthless eyes bored into Kara.

"What do you want, Joker?"

His voice bubbled with mirthless giggles. "My face on the one dollar bill."

James flinched as the blade drew a fine line across his cheek, tiny drops of blood bleeding along its length. Kara sucked in a breath.

"I wonder," said the Joker. "How much is Superman's Pal worth to Superman's Cousin? What's ol Jimmy's measure? Your editor? The new guy? Beth from accounting?"

"Let them go," said Kara. "They have no part in this."

"They were here," said the Joker.

"If it's me you want, I'm here."

"You really think I'm going to throw away my insurance policy?" said the Joker. "I know you're fast, but how fast? Faster than a speeding bullet, but what about ten? Twenty? Can you catch them all and stop me from putting a smile on his widdle face?"

For emphasis, the Joker clamped his free hand on James's chin and gave it a little shake. James kept his expression flat, neutral. He practically ordered her: Stop him, don't worry about me.

She didn't dare move.

"Are we going to stand here all night, or are you going to get to the point?"

"You talk a big game," said the Joker, "but you've got a lousy poker face, Supergirl. You've got a tell. Crinkle." He tapped the center of his forehead.

Kara schooled her face still, fighting the revulsion swirling in her stomach.

"I'll ask you again. What do you want?"

The Joker's rictus grin went slack, pulling his features in a clownish, maudlin frown. "Oh, you think this is about a ransom? Okay, fine. I want two billion dollars, a Rolls Royce Phantom II, two helicopters, and an egg salad club with a slice of tomato and bacon. Oh, wait, that's Harvey."

He giggled.

Kara took a step forward. "Don't test me, clown."

"Oh, you see, that's why I'm here," said the Joker. "This isn't about money, Supergirl. I'm not here to rob banks. I'm here for a deeper purpose. A favor to an august colleague, taken from us before his time. ROSCOE!"

One of the Joker's men stepped forward and began, badly, playing a violin.

"Poor Lex Luthor. Can you imagine the ignominy, the shame? After all the work he put into being such a perfect arch enemy, the big blue boy scout just dumps him and leaves. Now, I ask you, did Lexie-Poo deserve that? Imagine what must have gone through the poor guy's head. Not only did his rival fob him off on you, the distaff counterpart, you weren't even the one to finish him off! Lex Luthor, the Great Alexander of Our Time, the Man of Tomorrow, genius philanthropist playboy scientist and fully functioning homicidal artist, shot dead by a woman who got the drop on him. Lex, killed by a secretary."

Kara's blood ran cold, and the world tilted around her.

Did he mean Lena? How did he know that?

"Oh yes, I know," said the Joker. "Lex left me a bequest, to be laid at my feet in the event of his untimely passing. A great treasure, a bounty of secrets that are mine, and mine alone."

Kara swallowed, or tried to, and found her throat going dry.

"Say, how's Mom, by the way? Did she make it to your last Earth Birthday?"

---

Nothing to Fear will update tomorrow!

#supergirl fanfiction #supergirl fanfic #supercorp #supercorp fanfic #supercorp fan fiction #kara x lena #the joker

9 notes · View notes

fragmcntdstars · 3 months ago

Text

FUCK . “ it was left over from mom's coronavirus stockpile , ” he tries . he'd wanted to wash his hands , to scrub them just as thoroughly as a surgeon preparing for a procedure , but he'd just run out of time . perhaps it would have been a better option – either way , it was too late . oh , well . he's matured && learned more ways to hide the evidence of his kills . he'd come quite the way from the teenage killer in woodsboro , even though he still bore those scars . always covered in make up . always made sure his hair was styled just right in order to avoid questions [ … ] he really didn't want to answer those questions anymore . still , rick pushes those thoughts , those memories , away as he reaches out for rosalina's hand .

“ please , just hear me out . ” he's fine talking to her back . actually , in this case , he would greatly prefer to stay talking to rosalina's back . if he looked her in the eyes , those gorgeous eyes he could spend hours in , he'd lose all the resolve he'd so carefully structured over the years . “ i was really stuck on something && had to work it through . i know its not an excuse , but i was actually planning on washing my hands . ” he's gently caressing her skin with his thumb , mind still racing as he belatedly tried to reason his actions .

she'd looked like sidney && he hadn't seen her , or anyone else from woodsboro , in decades . at the end of the day , it was purposeful , but not entirely his fault . martha , the genius woman , had helped him through recovery && had come up with the plan as well . somehow , it had worked better than he could have ever hoped . still , there were chances that he'd be drawn back . after all , he'd been stu macher before he'd ever heard of richard rogers , but that was what made it so perfect . then , after a few moments , he's realizing his trapped in his own thoughts . he clears his throat after giving a small shake of his head . if rosalina's sensed anything , he's screwed . well , he's been screwed . it was a constant state at that point , teetering between being in the clear && right back at a point where he was barely two steps ahead of prison .

“ i was serious about basing the new protagonist on you , you know . you'd be great in a thriller , ” he says as his hand leaves her wrist .

he'll let her run if she wants , but rick finds himself not wanting her to leave . his stomach growls , so he gently moves her to the side as he passes by , making his way to the kitchen before opening the refrigerator door . he hums to himself as he sets the pan on the stove , turning on the burner as he put slices of thick - cut bacon into the center of the pan . “ hungry ? ”

@fragmcntdstars .

IF THERE’S ONE THING that rosalina sanchez hates , it’s almost catching rick in the act . this isn’t the first time that it has happened ― it certainly won’t be the last . she knows that he’s either cleaning himself up or hiding something in there , her intuition never steers her wrong [ … ] but , there isn’t shit that she can do about it . no matter how many times she tries yelling at him to open the fucking door , no matter how many times she attempts to turn the doorknob … no other outcome arrives than the one she’s been expecting and ultimately receives . when he finally emerges , she’s standing there on the other side of the door looking like a mother who’s just caught her teenager trying to sneak back into the house after a party they’d been forbidden to go to . thin hands on her hips , one hip jutted out to the side , nothing short of pure exasperation plastered across her exotic features . she is very close to being utterly done .

HE THEN , OF COURSE , tries to pull the whole richard castle charm act on her . she can’t say that she’s surprised , though her expression does soften slightly as she gives her dark eyes a roll . a smile is plucking at the corners of her lips , despite the fact that she really wishes it weren’t . her head shakes in dark amusement , unruly hair cascading down her shoulders . her gaze returns to him , ever so slight grin present on her face , ❛ you want me to be your next hotshot heroine ? ❜ there’s doubt there , naturally . rosalina is quite certain that he’s just trying to distract her . on paper , it is a good idea , though . a former fbi consultant with psychic abilities would surely reel people in at the bookstores , especially if it’s coming from his hand . but , she is not so easily convinced . if she were , this wouldn’t be anywhere near as exciting for both of them . this is a cat and mouse game that she quite likes playing .

FOR A SECOND , IT actually seems like she might just believe what he’s trying to sell her . but , that is shattered when her nose scrunches and she takes a couple steps backwards , ❛ you smell like you just bathed in fucking hand sanitizer , rick . ❜ right back to being suspicious she goes , arms crossing over her chest as she not so subtly tries to peek around him and into his office . she intuitively knows that she won’t find a body in there ― he’s too careful to do that . but , she’d clearly caught him unaware [ … ] there might be something else that she can nail him with . however , that thought gives rosalina pause . she’s not sure if she actually wants to put him away . that would kill their little game . after a moment of stubbornness , she apparently gives up . throws up her hands and walks away down the hall while shaking her head , ❛ whatever . ❜

#araneorum #v; tbd #𝔭𝔰𝔶𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔠 𝔪𝔶𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔯 // richard c #oh man this was fun to write

3 notes · View notes

doasyoudesireandlive · 3 years ago

Text

Tiny white Matchmaker

Pairing: Neighbour!Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: Your very handsome neighbour, Mr. Barnes, comes knocking on your door looking for his cat.

warnings: fluff, kissing, description of sexual activity.

(This is my second fic so don't get your hopes up. Lazily proof-read by myself so there will be mistakes. Also English is not my first language!)

Hands feeling their way up your body, fingers intertwining with yours. Heavy breaths fills the air and the room is buzzing with electricity. Full, smooth lips kissing their way up your throat hitting that sweet spot behind your ear. You can feel the blood rushing down and your just about to -

You jolt awake to the sound of your doorbell. Groaning you swing your feet out of the bed. Stumbling through your room and into the hallway you tear open your front door and huff out a grumpy "What?!"

Your breath hitches because in front of you is your handsome neighbour Mr. Barnes. He looked concerned the moment you opened the door nut now a smile is playing on his lips.

"Sorry to disturb you Ms. Y/L/N, hope I didn't wake you?" he lets his eyes wander down your body. You look down too, remembering you answered the door wearing your care bears night shorts and a t-shirt with your best friends face on it. it was a thing at her bachelorette party and you kept the shirt just because of the good memories.

Blushing hard you look into his ridiculously blue eyes "No, not at all Mr. Barnes. I was just...working out?" he doesn't look convinced by your answer but he smiles at you and its like all the butterflies in the world has taken up recedency in your stomach.

"I'm just looking for my cat Alphine. Have you seen her around?" Hes holding up a poster with a picture of the cutest white fluffball you've ever seen.

"No, I'm sorry. You want any help looking for her? Give me a minute to get dressed and I'll help!" His eyes beaming towards you as he nods.

"Just give me a sec!" you sprint into your bedroom, desperately looking for something decent to wear. You grab your newest jeans off the floor and a simple sweater to go with. You look at yourself in the mirror, stroking your hair to try and tame it a little bit.

You walk back to your door, Mr. Barnes is standing there waiting for you patiently.

"Ready to go?" You nod and the two of you head out together.

You spend about an hour looking for Alphine and knocking on doors. Your stomach is gurgling loudly. Oh right, you didn't have breakfast this morning. Mr. Barnes must have heard it too. "I'm getting hungry. Let me buy you lunch as a thank you for helping me look for Alphine." You smile at him "Yes, that would be great!"

He gestures for you to follow him. He walks you down the streets and stops by an old vintage diner. It looks like its taken right out of the 1940s. Opening the door for you he mumbles a " ladies first" as he gestures with his hand for you to step inside. You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks and you walk in while thanking him.

You sit down in a booth, the waitress coming over right away. "Oh, James! Your girlfriend is so pretty!" she winks at him then turns to you giving you an heartfelt smile. "Im Dot, I'll be your waitress today. Here are your menus, please let me know when you have decided"

Mr. Barnes is blushing furiously by now "Dot, shes not my girlfriend. Shes just my um..."

"Just his neighbour. I'm Y/N" you say with a smile. The waitress reminds you of your grandmother. "Just a neighbour huh?" Dot smiles fondly at you and then at Mr. Barnes with a twinkle in her eyes.

Mr. Barnes clears his throat. "Have anything you want, my treat." You smile, scanning the menu with your eyes quickly then ordering eggs and bacon with a side of toast and black coffee. He order the same and winks at Dot.

"So... Mr. Barnes. This is such a cozy diner, I can't believe I haven't been here before." All 40s interiour makes the place feel nostalgic and homey. Looking in to your eyes he says "Please, call me Bucky. My mom used to take me and my sisters here when i grew up. Always loved the place. And the food is so good" The last word comes out of his mouth almost like a hum, just like he is already tasting the food.

"Bucky. But... Didn't Dot just call you James?" His eyes crinkle as he smiles "James is my real name, but I hardly ever use it. Bucky is my nickname. Dot has always called me James, at least as long as I can remember" A soft gleam comes over his face - almost like he is travelling back in time being caught in a memory.

"Y/N. Call me Y/N"

Your food arrives and you enjoy your meal together. Bucky tells you stories from when Dot was embarrassing him on his first date on the diner and how he once ate way to many pancakes. Suddenly you've been sitting there for hours, and you've laughed so much your stomach hurts. Bucky cant seem to stop smiling at you. You look into his blue eyes, feeling like you can drown in them.

"You finished, doll?" You nod. "Thank you so much for lunch, Bucky. We can split the bill?" He looks at you like you just grew a horn in your forehead. "No. My treat, I told you so doll" He winks at you, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter like crazy. You stand by the door waiting for Bucky as he is paying and talking to Dot.

You decide to call of the search for the day, walking home together. Its so easy to talk to Bucky, it feels like you've known each other for ages. Soon you are at your building. Bucky lives on the same floor as you so you ride the elevator together.

When you step out of the elevator you almost stumble over a tiny white cat. Bucky catches you and help you steady your feet.

"Alphine, where have you been?!" Bucky lifts up the little cat and it licks his jaw and lazily jabs for his nose with its tiny paw. "So you are the famous Alpine" you reach out to stroke the cat , she purrs and stroke against you. "She likes you!" Bucky says enthusiastically. You laugh softly. Bucky carries Alphine towards your door and you waits for you when you unlock it. "So... thanks a lot for helping me look for this lil menace. God knows where shes been all this time" he looks at you with stars in his eyes. "no worries! That what neighbours .. or friends? are for" his smile grows bigger and he is now beaming at you. Blushing you bid your goodbyes and you shut the door behind you. Oh my god he is so amaaazing!! You lean your back against the door and close your eyes.

Suddenly there's a knock on your door. You open it to find Bucky standing there. "Oh, Bucky. Did you forget something?" He just stares at you, eyes sparkling - even bluer than before. "um yes, doll. This" He steps forward, his hands coming up to cup your jaw and then he kiss you. Its like the world stops. Your hands pull him even closer, stroking up into his hair. Soft lips, kissing so good it leaves you craving more more more. Loud meowing makes you startle and pull back.

Alphine looks at you from the floor. Big baby blue eyes looking almost pissed as she once again meow insanely loud. Shes so tiny, where does all that sound come from.

You and Bucky look at each other, then at Alphine. And you laugh. Bucky strokes a few hairs away from your face. "If I knew that a missing cat would make this happen I would totally hide her in my closet" Bucky winks, making you both laugh.

#bucky barnes x reader #neighbour!Bucky x reader #alphine #tonje writes

291 notes · View notes

eddiemunsonwoofty · 2 years ago

Text

Fix me - Part Eight

Summary: You reach out to the local "freak"/drug dealer for some kind of escape after your mom dies. Turns out he's the escape you needed.

Caution: reader is 18. DNI unless you are 18+

Kissing, boob play, drug use.

..................................................................................

"No! Mom!" I screamed and sat straight up in bed. I looked around and didn't realize where I was. "Are you ok!?" Eddie yells as he runs in the room. His uncle, Wayne Munson wasn't far behind him.

Out of terror from my nightmare and embarrassment from Wayne seeing me in my slutty p.j.s, I broke down and cried. Eddie wrapped me into him. "Shhh, its alright. Its okay. Y/n, look at me." I tried to wipe away a few tears as I watched Eddie signal to his Uncle that I was fine...and to get the fuck out! "You're ok, I've got you, y/n. You just had a bad dream" he said softly as he held me close. "I'm so sorry, Eddie." I say, still pouring out tears.

"What are you sorry for?" He assured me. "You're fine." Eddie held me there on his bed, until I calmed down. "What was that about, y/n?" I had to tell him. "I've had this reoccurring nightmare about my mom, ever since she died. That's why I came to you in the first place. I was hoping it would give me an escape. To forget about her. "

Eddie leaned in and kissed my tear soaked cheek. "You don't want to forget about her, like just the nightmares, right?" His voice got sadder. "No, Eddie. Forget her. I don't have any memories of her from before she was sick. All I see now is her failing body, and I am sad all the time." Tears come down again. "The only thing that has helped is you these past couple days. You and smoking. When I'm with you, awake I don't think about her. When I got to bed high, I don't dream about her."

Eddie is speechless at this point. Its ok, because, what could he say? He just layed next to me and rubbed my head. "Do-do you...wanna get high right now?" He asked quietly. "I-I don't know Eddie. Maybe?" Eddie sat up and grabbed a different box than he usual had with him. He pulled out some weed and rolled a joint. "Here, you light it." He said as he handed it to me. "Go ahead and smoke what you want, I'll be back in a minute." He got up and left the room. Where was he going?

I heard him shuffling around in the kitchen. Pans clattering around, and his uncle chuckling. I lit the joint and looked at the clock. Fuck! Its 2 o'clock! Oh my God, I was going to be in so much trouble. Might as well live it up now, because I'm screwed when I get home.

I took a couple more hits. Whatever he gave me was strong, and I couldn't handle it. I found his ashtray covered under a pair of jeans and put it out. I grabbed his hellfire shirt that was on the floor, and put it on to cover me. I was much more interested in what Eddie was doing in the kitchen. So I headed in there. I found him and his uncle cooking breakfast (lunch. But breakfast food). The radio was jamming to some oldies and Eddie was plating up some eggs. "Hey, princess. I was just about to head back in there. Nice shirt." His eyebrows raised at me noticing his hellfire tee. He scooted the plate across the counter to an empty stool. "Sit." He nodded to the chair. "There's eggs, toast, bacon, and sausage. I didn't know which one you'd want." He was so proud of himself. And I was head over heels. This was the nicest thing anyone had done for me. "It looks great Eddie! Thank you!"

His uncle made his plate and leaned against the opposite counter. "Eddie and I agreed that food was the answer to this problem." He said smiling. I didn't know about Eddie's parents, but the smile was definitely a generational thing.

Eddie loaded his plate with as much as he could fit and came to sit next to me. My eyes widen at the site of it. "What!? I'm a growing boy!" He chuckled. We all laughed at that one.

These two men were wonderful. We spent the better part of an hour eating, talking, and laughing. I liked it here at Eddie's. I felt normal here. I felt safer here. Nightmares or not. It felt right being here...with him.

Eddie got up and went to his room for something and left me and Wayne alone. "He likes you, y/n." Wayne said stone faced. "Dont hurt my boy, okay?" Damn. What has Eddie gone through for Wayne to come at me with this. "I won't Wayne, I promise." I did promise. Eddie came back out with that joint in his mouth. "Want some Wayne?" He asked handing it to him. "Nah, kid I better head into work now. I got that double tonight." Wayne threw on his hat, grabbed his keys and left. When the door shut you could hear him holler "Behave!" Eddie and I busted out laughing.

"Well, princess, we're alone again. Are you feeling better?" "Much better." I say getting up from my stool and walking over to him. I took the joint that was dangling in his mouth and kissed him. Hard. I think I'm falling for him.

The more I held my kiss. The more passionate it got. It lasted long enough for the ash on the joint to grow long and fall off, burning my finger tip. It didn't stop me. Eddie came up for air and grinned at me. He grabbed the joint, hit it, then threw it in the sink. Man, he really doesn't care where his joints go.

Eddie picked me up and sat me on the counter. "I really like that shirt on you, baby. But right now it'll look better on the floor."

"Lock the door, Eddie." I said, tilting my head towards the front door. Eddie rushed and locked the door. When he turned around, I lifted his shirt off, leaving my pajama top. "Nuh uh, princess, the other one too." He said inching closer to me. Off came the top and I threw it on top of his. I sat there and watched him watch me. "You are perfect, y/n." He said. "Perfect." He walked over and cupped both of my breasts. He pressed his face into them for a moment, then proceeded to lick both my nipples simultaneously. "Oh my God, eddie." I moan out as I grab fistfulls of his hair. He stopped sucking only to kiss me more. "I want inside that mouth, princess." He growled. "Get on your knees."

"Yes, daddy." I obeyed.

#eddie munson #stranger things #strangerthingsedit #eddie #eddie stranger things #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson smut

22 notes · View notes

chelleztjs18 · 3 years ago

Text

Lost in Assistance - Ch. 2

Elizabeth Olsen x Fem!Reader

GIF: I don’t own this GIF. Found it on gifimage.net

Summary: Y/n is a professional celebrity's personal assistant in Hollywood got hired with two years contract to be the assistant of the famous and talented Elizabeth Olsen / Lizzie by her manager. Both Y/n and Lizzie hate each other since day one, and they have mutual friend. One is as stubborn as the other, will Y/n stay when Lizzie gives attitudes and tries her best to make her quit before the contract ends?

Warning: fluff, angst, smut (in future chapters), swearing words ( +18 only)

All chapters

You slowly drifted into your sleep right after you read Mitch's text reply. You are sunken in a very deep sleep that you slept on your right side the whole night. As the night went by, the moon finally parted and let the sun have its chance to shine again for another day to start. The sky is clearer than yesterday as if it's trying its best making people to like Monday. The sunlight penetrating through your tall ceiling to floor blinds in your room slowly gives shades of light to your spacious room that has a combination of black, grey, white with some hints of burgundy color here and there which all of them match with the dark hardwood floor.

More lights fill the room that finally stir you in your sleep. You turn and stretch on your back followed by a yawn. You checked out the time and it's 8 AM. Just like most people nowadays do as soon as they wake up, you try to find your phone that was found under your burgundy pillow case wrapped pillow. You scroll through your phone to check your work schedules, deadlines for today and if Mitch has emailed you about the infos of the new job you two were talking about yesterday. You didn't find any email yet from him so you decided to get up and go downstairs to have a coffee.

You squint your eyes as you walk out of your room as the effect of the big brightness difference between your room compares to the rest of the parts of the house that have a bunch of big windows surrounding you. You can smell the coffee your mom brewed and the bacon your mom cooked from even the first steps of your staircase.

Passing the spacious living room, you easily spotted your mom in the kitchen since your house is an open floor type with minimalist interior design and has a high ceiling. You like it that way because you are claustrophobic and the minimalist style just because you like everything simple with a lot of touch of wood element in it.

"Morning Ma." You greeted her and gave her a hug as soon as you got in the kitchen. "Morning dear. I only brewed a little bit of coffee and made bacon, didn't know if you wanted pancakes or something else." Your mom replied. "Thanks Ma, i think i'm just gonna have a toasted bagel with cream cheese and some bacon you made." You open the fridge and get your cold brew coffee and some cream cheese then make your breakfast.

You and your mom are having breakfast in the small dining room that's right next to the kitchen and talking about everything while you multitask doing some work on your laptop, then you hear someone come into the house.

"Hellooo?! Anybody home? Y/n?" You recognized who it was as you heard footsteps approaching. "In the dining room!" You said a little loud. A good looking medium height ginger guy with a short beard and great taste of fashion walked in.

"Good morning! Oh my gosh! Mama Leah! I missed you! How are you?" Mitchel picks up his pace to your mom and gives her a tight hug. "I'm great. How are you and Pierre?" She asked as she replied back with even a tighter hug. "We are great!" Mitch rubs your mom's arms as she is still in his hug.

"Good morning Mitch. So far I can remember I have a bell on the front door." You said it jokingly. Mitch walked to you and gave a cheek to cheek kiss as his way to say hello to you.

"Then what's the point of you giving me one of your spare keys? Wasn't it so I could come anytime? At least I warned you with a Hello when I came in" He rolled his eyes playfully. You quickly replied in a theatrical tone. "Well,okay I stand corrected. Mitchel my love, you can come anytime you want." You smiled and had a sip of your cold brewed coffee. "Oh my gosh, you and your morning cold brew coffee. Please don't tell me you still use that cold brew machine from years ago when we were still roommates." He rolled his eyes playfully. "Nope,I got a new fancier one. Tell me again why are you here?" You tilted your head a bit and looked at him waiting in confusion for an answer.

"Oh yeah, I was driving in the area,thought I would just come by to say hi and drop this off myself. It's the infos about Olsen's personal assistant job offer, the contract and agreement so you can read it before the meeting on Wednesday at 10 A.M, the address is in there too. You don't have to bring any resume, I still have it in file, I'll ask my secretary to prepare it for you." He gave you a brown envelope.

You checked the envelopes, there are a bunch of papers filled with contract and agreement information as well as details of what the client expects, the do's and dont's and a lot more.

"That's a lot to read, seems like she is quite a demanding person?" You asked. "Not really,it's just her manager Jane Vernon, she is really into details and she is a perfectionist. Just like you. On the contrary, Lizzie is actually very nice but I heard she can be a little stubborn sometimes. I met her before." He explained but his eyes widened in surprise after checking the time on his watch.

"Uh oh, I gotta go. I have a meeting. Good to see you and you too Mama Leah. Love you guys!" He grabbed a bagel then waved bye as he left in a hurry. "Alright, bye! Next time don't forget to ring the bell." You still try to mess with him about it. "Ya.. yaa.. yaaa." He answered mockingly. Both you and your mom laughed.

The day is slowly coming to an end. You have lost track of time and been working on your translating work for a few hours in your office upstairs. You are trying to finish all your deadlines before you start working as Lizzie's personal assistant. After you get all done, you check all the files in the envelopes Mitch has brought you this morning.

"Hmm. Okay, let's see what we got here. Elizabeth Chase Olsen. 28 years old. 5'6" tall, 121lb. Shoes size 8.5. Clothing size Medium. AB negative blood type. Lives in L.A. hmmm actually not that far from here. She went to acting school for a year in Russia, which means she can speak a bit of Russian. That's cool. Allergic to cats, hates onions, likes the room temperature 69 degrees when it's hot outside and 70 when it's cold outside." You mumble as you continue reading everything.

You decided to check on some interview videos of her just to know more characters from her body language since you're pretty good at it.

"Hmm gotta admit she has pretty eyes. She seems kind but Mitch said she can be so stubborn sometimes. We'll see." You talked in your mind as you feel so intrigued when you see her in the video. You checked the time then you decided to go to your room that's next door and go to bed.

Ch. 3

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #lizzie olsen #lizzie olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen fanfiction #lizzie olsen fanfic #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff fluff #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #slow burn #fem reader

198 notes · View notes

redrobin-detective · 4 years ago

Text

Just one single glimpse of relief

TW: OC death, death themes

“Hey,” Sydnee looked up at the sound of the voice. It was familiar, safe, and it stopped her tears for a moment. She can’t remember where she was or what she’d been doing. All she knew was that she was scared and upset and didn’t know what to do. It felt like she’d been crying forever when the voice appeared. “Hey there, it’s Phantom. Can I come closer?”

Sydnee gasped as the town hero, Phantom, approached her slowly. Syd was a bit of a nerd and she couldn’t get enough of those superhero movies. She always tuned in to Phantom’s fights on TV; he was as close as she’d get to a real life Superman or Captain Marvel. She’d never seen him up close before though. He was younger than he appeared on TV, not more than his early teens. Sydnee, almost 24, was hit by a wave of mortification over how they’d described the hunky, we-thought-he-was-older kid on Margarita Night. This day just got better and better, not that she remembered it.

“How are you doing?” Phantom asked quietly, floating near her but not getting too close. He was watching her warily but not unkindly. She saw how some folks treated him, he was probably worried she’d throw a shoe at him. “What’s your name?”

“Sydnee, with an extra e not a y. Uh Tanner, Sydnee Tanner,” she mumbled. Ugh why were words so hard. Her head felt fuzzy and very far away, she thinks she was going to start panicking again. What was she even so upset about? “I don’t know what’s going on. Where are we and what happened. I don’t- I don’t remember anything.”

“It’s okay,” he said soothingly, floating a little closer. The soft glow he emitted brightened up the dark place they were in. Was she in a collapsed tunnel? What had she been doing here? She’d never been claustrophobic but the debris and rubble of the place seemed to close in on her. “Hey, hey, just look at me.” She turned and met his kind eyes, soft and easy. “We’ll walk through it together. What is the last thing you remember?”

“I was late to work,” Syd said, the memory popping up before her. “I um work at the Donut Delights bakery in that strip mall next to the middle school. My cats had knocked over some of my houseplants in the night so I had to clean them up and was running behind. I open the store on Wednesdays - oh it’s Wednesday! - so I knew I’d be in trouble. But I made it, just barely. I was starting up the ovens when.” Syd furrowed her brow and took in the hero before her. The one who was almost never seen outside a fight. “There was a ghost attack, wasn’t there?”

“Welcome to Amity Park,” Phantom said grimly. “I’ve been here a couple times; the jalapeno bacon topped donuts are my favorite. My mom and sister buy them sometimes if they want to bribe me into doing something.”

“You weirdo, only crazy people eat that weird flavor,” Sydnee chuckled. “You have a family?”

“Of course, we all have a family out there somewhere. What about you?” He asked gently. There was something about the soft way he was talking to her, the way his eyes flickered around the dark like he was looking for something. He had news he didn’t want to tell her and she wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet. Just a few more minutes of denial before she faced the revelation she couldn’t bear to touch yet.

“Yeah, mom and dad and two younger sibs. Folks divorced forever ago, I barely remember them actually being together. Mom is is living it up in Dubai working as a pastry chef in one of their fancy hotels. Dad’s an auto-mechanic down on Maple street, Duke’s Car Services. Pretty sure you got tossed through the window a year ago.”

“I’ve been tossed through many windows but I know the place you’re talking about. So a big family, any friends? Boyfriends? Girlfriends?”

“I have a boyfriend,” she continued on hastily, taking the distraction for what it was. “I like him, a lot and we’ve been dating since high school. Everyone says I should marry him and we’ve talked about it, casually, but I’ve never dated anyone else and wonder if I should see other people first. You know, test the waters before I settle down with my high school sweetheart like my folks did and look how they turned out.”

“Mhmm,” Phantom hummed nodding, encouraging her to continue.

“DeShawn is great though, he’s very supportive and sweet in his own kind of absentminded way. He’s got epilepsy real bad though, I have to drive him everywhere since he’s always at risk of a seizure. Annoying sometimes but its nice, you can learn a lot about a person from a conversation while you’re alone together.”

“Very true, I’m learning a lot now,” Phantom smiled. “What about your siblings?”

“I have a brother and a sister, Kennedy is finishing his sophomore year of college and Janelle will be a senior in high school. She was a surprise baby, one last attempt of my parents to reconcile before the big D. It didn’t help but I got a great sister out of it, she’s a real firecracker.”

“Janelle,” Phantom’s eyes lit up. “She’s the one always dying her hair. I see her in the hallways of Casper, she’s hard to miss. I think she draws too, she won an art award I think.”

“Yeah!” Sydnee said enthusiastically, she reached out and grabbed ahold of Phantom’s arm. It was cold but solid. It reminded her that she really couldn’t feel anything, nothing but him. “Yeah, I swear her hair is a new color every time I see her. It’s a dark purple now, it looks pretty good on her. She was a peachy orange for picture day last year. Mom called her up screaming when she saw the photos.”

“I thought it looked cool,” Phantom grinned, “not that I was there for picture day. Ghost attack, you know. My mom was upset with me too.” They laughed lightly for a minute before it gently petered off leaving them alone in the dark. Sydnee didn’t have any feeling in her toes, in any part of her. She felt light and disconnected and all over out of sorts. She was pretty sure she knew what had happened but she couldn’t face it yet. But talking to Phantom, it seemed a little easier.

“I remember the attack now,” Sydnee stated quietly. “It was a big ghost bear only it was the size of a pickup truck. It rammed into the store there was chaos and screaming. It was so loud, the screaming of the customers, the bear, building coming down on top of us...” her lips wobbled. “We’re still in the store, aren’t we? I haven’t wanted to turn around because... because I know my body is buried underneath the concrete back there.”

“Yeah,” Phantom breathed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get here in time. Most everyone in the area got out but you and a few others in the store got trapped under the rubble. Mrs. McDaniels who lived on Eustis street and was the first woman in her family to go to college plus Eddie Drake who came down from Chicago to check out the ghost stuff with their boyfriend and was a tattoo artist.”

“Did you talk to them too?” She questioned in surprise.

“Briefly, Mrs. McDaniels didn’t stay long, just long enough to tell me, and I quote, “stop wasting time on her dead ass and get to the others.” She already passed on. Eddie, they didn’t take it well. We talked for a while and I think they need a little more time to accept it, see their loved ones first. I warned them that the longer they delay death, the harder it is and the more you lose yourself. You’re the last, all the way in the back of the store. When you’re ready, I’m going to bring your body out.”

“Thank you,” she whispered before breaking out into hysterical laughter. “God I bet I’m a wreck, I think I put my shirt on inside out I was in such a rush this morning,” she sniffled. “What do I do now, as a ghost? I don’t have to, like, attack people, do I?”

“No,” Phantom sighed. “Most ghosts are just normal people, no one else but other ghosts will see you and you’re not going to be strong enough to interact with the real world for a long, long time. You can stick around a bit if you want, watch over your family but it’s like I told Eddie, you forget things pretty quick. Or you can move on, that part I can’t help you with but I’ve helped a lot of others go that route and I’m told it’s easy.”

“Easy, then why haven’t you?” She questioned angrily, the full weight of the situation crashing over her. She shoved him and he floated back passively. “I’m a freaking ghost and you’re here talking to me like you’re my therapist or something. Who’s gonna take DeShawn to his appointments? Or praise my sister’s creative messes? Or badger Ken into picking major? My life is over and you think you can float there and lecture me about it being easy to move on!”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Phantom soothed, scratching at the back of his neck. “I’m so sorry Sydnee, I wish I could turn back the clock an hour, two hours, and prevent this from happening but I can’t. I’ve tried to mess with time and it doesn’t end well for anyone. I just want, I just want what’s best for you now. You can stay or you can go but I want you to make the decision that you feel most comfortable with. That’s all I can do for you.”

“I think I’d be sad,” she said, crying again, “being able to see everyone but not talk to them, to watch them cry over me. I don’t want to forget them either.” Phantom watched her, easily and earnestly. “What made you choose to stay? Why didn’t you go?”

“I’m a little complicated but I can tell you, when I’ve done all I need to here, I’m not hanging around a second longer than I have to. Being a ghost has it’s perks but it’s also, it’s being stuck in a place you longer fit, watching the world go on without you.”

“Okay,” Syd hiccupped. “Okay, yeah okay.”

“Okay,” Phantom nodded. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No, please don’t,” she grabbed his hands again. “Please I don’t, I know I died alone but I don’t want to do... this alone. Please stay, ugh, calling you Phantom is weird sorry.”

“I don’t know if it’s any less weird but you can call me Danny,” Phantom, Danny, laughed. It was an ordinary name for a superhero but it fit. There was a special thrill in knowing the ghost boy’s name but it’s not like she was going to be around to tell anyone. It was scary, to think of not existing but also sort of comforting, like a long nap with nothing pressing to get up for.

“Can you tell them that I love them, in my place? I know it’s a lot and I’m sure you’re super busy saving the town and everything-”

"It’s not a problem. I’m sure they know but I’ll be happy to pass on the message,” he smiled and it made him look so young. For a second she was struck by how sad it was that she was relying on a kid a decade younger than her for support. But he was here and he was kind and he was what she needed right now. Maybe one day, he’d have his own person talking him through this last step.

“Okay, Danny, thanks really. For talking, for staying. I’m scared but I, I think I’m ready.” She closed her eyes and squeezed his hands tightly. “Do you, will it hurt?”

“No,” he said, his voice warm despite his inherent chill. “No, Sydnee. No, the hurting is all over now. All you have left ahead of you is peace. Thank you for all that did, you’ll be missed.”

“I’ll see you on the other side. Goodbye.” The world faded to a pinprick, consumed by light. The last thing she saw before she went into it was a stranger’s smile.

XxX

“Here’s the last,” Phantom said solemnly, delicately setting a broken body he’d carried out of the dilapidated building and on the sidewalk next to the others. “This is Sydnee Tanner, she was the only employee in the store at the time. She has cats at home who will need taking care of. Her dad works at Duke’s Car Services along with siblings and a boyfriend.”

“Don’t know how you know all that but thanks for getting these folks out,” Sheriff Newton sighed. “Damn shame. Keep up the good work kid, we’ll save the next ones for sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some rather unhappy news to break to several people.”

“Do you mind if I tag along? I have a few messages I need to pass on.”

#danny phantom #me: makes up a random OC for the sake of the story #also me: oh my gawd sydney oh my goodd im so sorry baby Im sorry #the exciting continuation of Robin gets weirdly existential and peaceful about death #just the image of Danny saving the living then going on to talk to and help the dead he couldnt save move on #it fucking gets me okay?#he really is the bridge hero for the living and the dead alike #i love him so fucking much #well now Im emo for the rest of forever #title from Taylor Swifts epiphany #amazing a story title that DOESNT come from the 18-19th century death poem #i must be mad #Im reading it over again and its like way longer than it needs to be bc I kept adding more and more to sydnees story

174 notes · View notes

twilightprince101 · 4 years ago

Text

So I made an SCP entry for Bugsnax...

I thought with the ending and all of the disturbing stuff that this game has, it would fit perfectly with SCP stuff. Not to mention, there has to be an SCP equivalent in the Grumpus world. GCP? SGP? SCG? I dunno man, have some horror writing about muppets.

SCP-3470: Sentient Sustenance

[Heavy spoilers for Bugsnax ending]

Item #: SCP-3470 aka “Snaktooth Island”

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Due to its nature of being a landmass the most SCP teams can do is obscure its location to the populus. Efforts have been made to create rumors of numerous shipwrecks--akin to SCP-605 “Bermuda Triangle”--to deter the public from exploring the location. If unauthorized ships are witnessed crossing into the restricted zone, they are to be terminated immediately. Addendum: Due to the recent insubordination of Dr. [REDACTED]. All authorized personnel that enter or exit SCP-3470 are to be subjected to a rigorous screening process to ensure that no instances of SCP-3470-A are brought out of the restricted area without B Class Permission or higher. Further precautions being considered are a 10 minute test in which personnel seeking access to SCP-3470 are to be placed into an empty room with an instance of SCP-3470-A. If SCP personnel show any signs of wishing to consume SCP-3470-A, they are to be removed from the team immediately. Permission from Professor [REDACTED]. Is awaiting approval.

Description: SCP-3470 is a large landmass off of the coast of [REDACTED]. Spanning 50 mi^2 and nearing 1.5 mi in height. Several sections of SCP-3470 are flux in weather patterns, ranging from lush forests to arid deserts in the span of 3 miles. Although similar in appearance to locations such as [REDACTED]. And [REDACTED]. , further research concludes that flora are substantially different in chemical composition, containing traces of [REDACTED]. Which was only recently discovered. Due to this, nearly all flora encompassing the island are inedible, as digestion induces hazardous effects ranging from intense stomach pains to spastic vomiting.

The most significant aspect of SCP-3470 are various instances of sentient life, which are to be referred to as SCP-3470-A-[1-100]. SCP-3470-A take appearances of common food items, such as SCP-3470-A-1 [“Strabby”] taking the form of a ripe red strawberry with what appear to be dollar store googly-eyes [all instances of SCP-3470-A share the final trait]. All instances of SCP-3470-A vary in physique, behavioral patterns and similarities to their respective food item. Each instance also appears to have a “name” that it repeats ad nauseum despite not having observable mouths or vocal chords, making them easier to classify. Chemically however all are similar, containing faint traces of [REDACTED]. . This can be witnessed upon any attempt to alter SCP-3470-A instances from their base form, dissolving into an unknown inedible fluid, losing sentience in the process.

Due to SCP-3470’s flora being inedible, SCP-3470-A instances become the landmass’s only source of sustenance. Consumption of SCP-3470-A induces a drastic and instance side-effect of modifying the consumer’s limbs, thereby becoming SCP-3470-B. The limbs of SCP-3470-B instances vary depending on the instance of SCP-3470-A that has been consumed, alongside how many instances have been consumed prior to said event. Fundamentally however, all limbs modified take on the appearance of whatever the SCP-3470-A instance was impersonating. The more instances a subject consumes the more of their body transforms, beginning with the hands and feet and extending to the entire torso and face. The internal functions of the body remain intact along with full autonomous control, however the structure and physique of transformed limbs change drastically, such as an SCP-3470-B instance’s arm transforming into a banana after consuming an instance of SCP-3470-A-12 [“Banooper”]. These transformations subside in time [correlating to amount of SCP-3470-A instances consumed], with SCP-3470-B limbs reverting back to their original state, containing faint traces of [REDACTED].

Addendum 3470-B: Increased Exposure

Proceeding with experimentation with SCP-3470-A instances under Prof. [REDACTED]. , extended exposure and consumption of SCP-3470-A instances results in increasing addictive tendencies and side effects. File below contains audio files of experiments with Personnel D-125.

Dr. [REDACTED].: D-Class 125, approach SCP 3470-A-45.

D-125: What is…? Ok, seriously what the grump is this??? Like, I signed up for this expecting a lot of horrifying stuff, but-did someone slap googly-eyes on a piece of corn?!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : 125, please approach SCP-3470-A-45.

D-125: Yeah, yeah, alright. So… (to A-45 after approach), what are you supposed to be then? Did Dr. [REDACTED]. Have their kid put their arts and crafts project on display or-

A-45: Cobhopper!

D-125: GRUMPIN WHA- IT JUST TALKED?! IT MOVED IT’S LOOKING AT ME!!!

Dr. [REDACTED].: (whispering) so much for being the ‘toughest D-class around… ‘

D-125: So you’re telling me I just… eat it? The eyes too?

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Correct. Do not worry, upon further testing the eyes seem to be made of a material akin to valentine’s candy hearts (lie).

D-125: Huh… alright then. Down the hatch, I guess?

Sounds of eating, cries of A-45

Dr. [REDACTED]. : D-125, describe the flavor.

D-125: It’s… good actually! I was honestly expecting the insides to be guts or poison or something, but it’s actually pretty good! Nice and buttered to, a bit of salt? Reminds me of my mom’s barbeque.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : And the sensation of your leg transforming?

D-125: Huh? (125 looks down and notices their leg transformed into a head of corn). Oh… Well this is pretty cool I guess.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Any uncomfortable sensations?

D-125: Not really no. It’s weird… I can still feel my toes, but it’s like a peg leg. Actually, I think I can see a few kernels wiggling if I try. Neat!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Is… that it?

D-125: Yeah I think so, *chuckles,* this is actually pretty cool!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Hmm… (To recorder) Despite initial panic from witnessing A-45, subject D-125 has adjusted to transformation with record pace. Further research required.

D-125: Heya doc!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Greetings D-125. Have you adjusted to recent transformations?

D-125: Yeah it’s been going alright. The pineapple hair is a pretty nice dew all things considered, and the bacon tongue makes me look like a snake. I like it!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Pleased to hear it. Now, approach SCP-3470-A-52.

D-125: Alright, what’s on the menu today then? Who’re you little guy?

A-52: Sodi-D Sodi-D!

D-125: Huh, a drink this time. Change of pace I guess.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Please consume A-52.

D-125: Right away ma’am. Sir. Whatever.

Sound of soda can opening and drinking, cries of A-52.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : (To recorder) Upon the first drop of A-52’s fluid, transformation has already occurred, transforming the subject's ears into what appear to be soda can tabs. No further transformations appear to occur on consecutive gulps-wha (To D-125) Sir?!

Sounds of crunching, further cries of A-52, then silence.

D-125: Not bad! I don’t usually drink soda, beer’s more my thing personally, but it was pretty sweet! Just the right amount of sugar. And hey, new accessory!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : ...D-125, why did you eat A-52’s shell?

D-125: Huh?

Dr. [REDACTED]. : The… the can. Nobody has attempted to consume the can.

D-125: Oh. Uh…

Silence for 7 seconds

D-125: I dunno, I guess since the eyes were edible on the other guys, I thought the can would be here? Wasn’t too hard to eat, kinda like biting into ice. Didn’t hurt.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Very… interesting. This will be recorded for future experiments, thank you D-125.

D-125: No prob. And hey, call me Chuffee.

D-125: Hehey, candy corn teeth! Pretty sharp too, should make eating these things even easier!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : D-125, you’re nearing complete bodily transformation. Have you been experiencing any discomfort as of late? Any anomalies?

D-125: Nope, in fact I feel great! I used to have this crink in my back for the longest time, but now it’s gone! I’m more limber than I’ve been in ages!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Fascinating… very well then, thank you for your time.

D-125: ...wait, what? That’s it?

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Hm?

D-125: There isn’t any more left? I thought there would be a bit more.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : *sigh,* D-125, we’ve went over this last time. We cannot give you more than one instance a day due to 3470-A’s high caloric count. The instance you just ate was over twenty th-

D-125: You know you keep saying that. Didn’t you guys want to really figure out what’s with these things? When I ate that soda can you said yourself that nobody’s tried that before, so let’s go further! I’m still hungry anyways, I’m craving a burger if you got any like that.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Sir, please exit the room. I cannot give you any more than what I am authorized.

D-125: ……..You know, it’s interesting how your window is so high up there. I can hardly see you.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : ...excuse me?

D-125: You heard me [REDACTED]. , I can barely see you from down here. You can see exactly how I change, the new stuff I get… but I can’t see yours.

Silence for 15 seconds.

D-125: I know you’re holding out on me up there [REDACTED]. .

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Sir, I’ve told you countless times already. I can’t give you any more than I’m authorized.

D-125: (Sarcasm) Oh yeah, suuure. For all I know you guys are feasting away on these things up there, while leaving me for dust! Like seriously, a single popcorn kernel?! That’s it?!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Sir, that is all I can give you today. Please exi-

Sound of a door opening

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Wh- Professor [REDACTED]. ?

Professor [REDACTED]. : Hello D-125.

D-125: Oh great, another snob to tell me what to do. If you aren’t gonna feed me, then just shut up already! My stomach’s growling like crazy, and I’m not leaving until I get my meal!

Professor [REDACTED]. : Not to worry D-125, I’m fully prepared to grant your wish.

D-125: ...wait, really?

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Professor, what are you-

Professor [REDACTED]. : I listened to the log of your previous meal, and you raised a good point. If we at the SCP foundation wish to fully understand what these creatures are capable of, we must push the boundaries of what we believe are possible. So then…

(Sound of metal grinding, several overlapping cries of SCP-3470-A instances)

D-125: Oh, my…

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Professor, what are you doing?

Professor [REDACTED]. : Eat until you can’t eat anymore. Consider it my treat, to you.

D-125: Ooohohohohoooo yes!!! Now we’re talking!!! Come to papa little guys!!!

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject so far has consumed 34 instances of 3470-A. Since consuming number 21 he has shown increased signs of vigor, despite eating half of his body mass.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Professor, please, stop him. This is-

Professor [REDACTED]. : (continuing) Upon complete transformation of limbs to SCP 3470-B instances, any further consumption appears to override a prior one. His leg, previously resembling a head of corn has transformed now into a roll of sushi. His tongue, once a strip of bacon, now a wad of chips.

D-125: (While eating) Mmmph! Oh my god, what are you a jar of pickles! More the merrier!

Sound of sloppy gulping, glass crunching, cries of SCP-3470-A-35

D-125: Ooogh, some noodles too! Love japanese food!

Sounds of rapid slurping, rapid glass crunching and licking.

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject appears to have increased vigor in consuming 3470-A instances, not leaving a single crumb or shard left uneaten. A query: what is the chemical makeup of instances contained in glass jars or bowls? The bowls themselves? Further research required.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Chuffee please, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!

Rapid, feral sounds of crunching and slurping.

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject has now eaten approximately eaten 1.5 times his body mass yet continues to feat, now with no regards for table manners whatsoever. I have already called for a janitor to wait outside.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Chuffee stop!! You-

Laughter, slowly increasing in volume

D-125: This!! This is the best I’ve eaten in my entire life!!!

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Chuffee please-O-oh… oh my-

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject’s left ear has disconnected itself from its host. There appear to be no signs of blood or even markings indicating he has had one at all-there goes a tooth!

D-125: Hooooh I knew you all were holding back on me!!! This stuff is delicious, amazing, spectacular!!! I’ll never go hungry again, no more rotting on the streets!!! This is all mine, you hear me?! Mine, MINE, MINE!!! HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAH

Laughter continues for several seconds, sounds of objects falling to floor as volume slowly decreases, ending with a loud clatter.

Dr. [REDACTED]. : Ch-Chuffee, I- urp!

Sound of vomiting

Professor [REDACTED]. : Subject, after eating nearly twice his body mass, has had each limb separate from his core torso one by one, now fully resembling their respective food items, until his eyes transformed into SCP-3470-B instance, resembling the mixed nuts that made up his head. Soon after, his torso and head fell apart, scattering into mixed-nuts. I can not recognize Subject D-125 in the slurry.

More sounds of vomiting

Professor [REDACTED]. : These results are quite fascinating. Further research is required into these various side effects. End tape.

#bugsnax #scp #scp foundation #bugsnax spoilers #secure contain protect #my writing #my writings #twi talks #spoilers #((I love writing fucked up stuff like this))#tw horror #tw body horror #body horror #horror

239 notes · View notes

jabbagabba · 4 years ago

Text

La La Land

Read Prologue, One

Warning ⚠️

Triggering subjects: disassociation, manipulation, mind control, gaslighting (READ AT OWN RISK)

Wandavision: Spoilers (up to episode 7, just to be safe) cheesy sitcom talk, the fifties, the ‘dinner table’ scene, The nickname ‘kiddo’

Oh, Kiddo

“Uh oh.” You didn’t need to check the recipe book to know that cookies weren’t suppose to make smoke invade the inside of the oven.

“Still better then the last batch.” Wanda said, a small cough falling from her mouth as you tipped the burnt treats into a small bin under the counter.

The sight of the now empty tray made you sigh sadly, the burnt pieces of dough was going to take decades to scrub off!

“I’m sorry about the tray.” You let it drop into the sink. “I promise, as soon as mom comes back, I’ll get you a new one.”

Wanda scoffed playfully, a point of her finger making the tray levitate in front of her. “Don’t be silly, kiddo!” You watched in awe as it turned back to its shiny silver. “I have an amazing cleaner.” You both giggle.

“Well I should at least do the dishes myself.” The sight of Wanda trying to argue made you hold your hand up in silent protest “No, no. You aren’t the only one who has hands.”

“You wash, I dry?” The perfect compromise.

The kitchen fell into peaceful silence except for the bubbly soap that filled the sink. It was the perfect start of a new day (maybe not for the oven) and you couldn’t help smile at the warmth that swelled through you.

“Busy hands make the heart grow fonder” Your mother’s words echoed inside of you as you finished the final dish.

The thought didn’t stay for long before the sound of a plate breaking made you jump, turning quickly as it hit the floor.

“My wife and her flying sources.” Vision quipped as the last of the shattered plate fell off his shoulder, dressed in a respectable suit and dress shoes.

“My husband and his indestructible head.” Wanda replied with a teasing smile. The perfect couple was a sight to behold as you grabbed the glass from the air above her and placed it back in the cuboard.

“Aren’t we a fine pair?” Vision gave his a wife a small kiss on the head and turned to you with a small smile. “Good morning, Kiddo.” You greeted him, drying your hands on the skirt of your dress. “I’m starting to think you came with the house.” Wanda chuckled.

“Mom will be back soon, I promise, the house will be teenage free before you know it.”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” He lets the newspaper in his hand slide across the countertop. “I’m only teasing.”

“What do you say to silver dollar pancakes, crispy hash browns, bacon, eggs, freshly squeezed orange juice, and black coffee?” Wanda’s words made your mouth water, it felt as though you hadn’t eaten in days and a full breakfast was just what you needed.

“I say. ‘Oh, I don’t eat food.’” He smiled.

“Well, that explains the empty refrigerator.” Her words confused you. There wasn’t even the carton of milk you were sure was there earl-

“Wanda?” Vision’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, she simply hummed in question.

“Is there something special about today?”

“Well, I know the apron is a bit much, dear, but I am doing my best to blend in.” You watch as she crosses the kitchen.

“No, no, there on the calander. Someone’s drawn a little heart right above today’s date.” He lets his chin rest on her head while you move closer to see. Sure enough, there it was.

“Oh, yes.” Wanda said with tense shoulders. “The heart.” She looked over at you for some guidance, the confused look she saw didn’t help calm her nerves. “Well, don’t tell me you have forgotten, Vis.” She turned in his arms with a look of accusation and hands laid on her hips.

“Forgotten?” He scoffed. “Oh, Wanda, I’m incapable of forgetfulness. I remember everything. That’s not an exaggeration. In fact, I’m incapable of exaggeration.”

“Well, then tell me what’s so important about today’s date.”

You had to stifle a laugh when you looked at him; mouth blown out like a fish and eyes wide, a stern look from Wanda made you cover it with a cough.

“What was the question again?” Vision turned quickly. “Oh, well. Perhaps, you’ve forgotten yourself.”

“Me? Heavens, no. I’ve been so looking forward to it.” You let Vision pass you, choosing to keep to yourself and take a sit at the table.

“As have I.” He said proudly with arms folded. “Today we are celebrating...”

Why were you so hungry?

“You bet we are...”

Why were you always, so hungry?

“It’s the first time we....have ever celebrated this occasion before.”

“It’s a.... special day!”

Something doesn’t feel right

“Perhaps an evening... of great significance...”

Can you feel her clawing?

“Kiddo?” Her voice makes you jump in your seat, letting out a small hiss from hitting your knee underneath the table. “You alright?”

“I...” Silly you, always dozing off. “I’m just peachy keen, Wanda!” A series of knocks on the door makes her pause and you’re quick to stand. “I’ll get it!”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that...” She trailed behind you, a polite smile on her face as you open the door.

You barley grab the large plant that’s shoved in your face, the woman breezing past you with her hand out.

“Hello. dear, I’m Agnes. Your neighbour to the right.” Wanda lets out a awkward laugh but takes her hand anyway. “My right, not yours.” She’s loud and very, very talkative. “Forgive me for not stopping by sooner to welcome you to the block. My mother in-law was in town, so I wasn’t.”

You pull the plant away from you with a huff. Wanda gives you an apologetic look, grabbing it from your hands, both of you watching as Agnes makes her way through.

“So, what’s your name? Where are you from, and most importantly, how’s your bridge game, hon?”

Very talkative indeed.

Wanda laughs as she crosses the room -leaving you to close the door - and sent Agnes a friendly smile.

“I’m Wanda.” She gestures to you over the woman’s shoulder. “And we call her ‘Kiddo’.”

“Easier that way.” You add as you smooth out your skirt once more, choosing to sit on the edge of the couch. Agnes turns to you with a smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry dear!” You wave her off with another friendly smile. “Wanda, Kiddo, lovely names for two lovely ladies.” You all share a small giggle.

“Golly.” Agnes’ eyes scan the room. “You settled in fast! Did you use a moving company?”

“I sure did.” You wanted nothing but to rip off that stupidly large bow off that equally obnoxious plant, but you didn’t want to be rude. “Those boxes don’t move themselves.” Agnes chuckled and you were itching to move it from the table Wanda placed it on.

“So what’s a single gal like you doing rattling around this big house? With a daughter no less.” You and Wanda were quick to explain.

“I’m not her daughter.” You move back as her dress skirt fills your vision, looking over at Wanda. “Just visiting.”

“I’m married.” She added with a gleeful shine in her eyes.

“Oh, I don’t see a ring.”

“Well, I assure you I’m married.” She covers her hand with the other. “To a man. A human one and tall.”

Agnes was a very suffocating presence; her dress bold and checker patterned, your polka dots looked rather bland compared to it and when she took a seat next to you - practically in your lap at one point of readjusting - you had never felt so small.

“As a matter of fact, he’ll be home later tonight for a special occasion. Just the two of us.”

“Oh, is it someone’s birthday?”

“Not a birthday.”

“Well today isn’t a holiday, is it?”

Were there any holidays in March? You - like most days - were left completely blank.

“No, it’s not a holiday...” Wanda’s hands fidget, you couldn’t help but join, opting to pick at a thread on your sleeve.

Today was.... hmm, what was today? You tried to remember if Vision or Wanda spoke of anything special, but nothing really stood out from the crowd.

“An anniversary then?”

“Ye... yes!” The relief on her face was almost comical. “Yes! It’s our anniversary!” Agnes couldn’t hide her excitement, grabbing your hand mid pull of the thread and held another one for Wanda to take.

“Oh, how marvellous.” She turned forward, putting both of your hands in her lap as Wanda joined on the couch. “How many years?”

“Well, it feels like we’ve always been together.”

“Lucky gal.” Agnes shook your hand with a smile. “Isn’t it just, having such a wonderful influence like that?” Wanda blushed. “The only way Ralph would remember our anniversary is if there was a beer named ‘June 2nd’. “ At least she was entertaining, right? “So, what do you have planned?”

“How do you mean?”

“For your special night. A young thing like you doesn’t have to do much, but it’s still nice to set the scene.” You and Wanda shared a glance as Agnes turned once more. “Say, I was just reading a crackerjack magazine article -“ She gave you both a playful slap on the thigh as she stood. “- called ‘How To Treat Your Husband To Keep Your Husband,’ and let me tell you, what Ralph could really use is, ‘How To Goose Your Wife So You Don’t Lose Your Wife’.”

Maybe you were just a bad judge of character or you were simply just insecure, but Agnes, to her credit, had quickly found a way to pull on your hearstrings in a perfect way.

Or maybe she was just very funny.

“Hang on. I’ll go grab it and we can start planning.” She turned to you before leaving and pointed a perfectly manicured finger. “Now, I hope you don’t have plans, Kiddo! Suducing a man is a lesson no school could teach you, Though a pretty gal like you shouldn’t need a whole lot.” She laughed and you couldn’t help but feel the warm rush to your cheeks at the compliment. “Oh, this is gonna be a gas!”

With a final giggle and smile, Agnes was gone. You moved closer to Wanda as she let out a happy sigh.

“Before she comes back,” She turns to you fully. “- can I throw that horrid plant out?”

———

“-and you don’t have a song? Nothing special you played at your weddding?” Agnes asked, the magazine sitting on her lap.

“No, nothing special.” That seemed to be the go to answer for Wanda; no song, no inside joke and not even a favourite date. Maybe that was the new era of marriage?

“I’ll just loan you some records then.” Agnes said before pointing to the notepad in your hand. “Mark that off the list, Kiddo.” You nodded and did just that. “What are we up to?”

“We’ve got wardrobe, music and...” God, you had horrible handwriting. “Oh, decor!” Agnes let out a happy hum and looked back at the article.

“Hmm... oh, what about seduction techniques?”

“Oh, I have those.” The loud chuckle made Wanda frown, suddenly unsure.

Agnes was really good at that.

“Of course, you do.”

“Just out of curiosity, what does it say?” You both leaned in, the chair you were sitting on unfortunately made it impossible to see over her shoulder.

“That you should stumble when you walk into a room so he can catch you. It’s romantic.”

“Any other tricks?”

“You could point out that the death rate of single men is twice that of married men.” She suggested with a smirk.

“Now, that’s romantic.” The shared laughter is quick to die down when the phone rings. “Oh.” Agnes hands you a glass of apple cider, a small enough glass to blur the moral line of underage drinking, and raised hers with a grin.

“Drink up, dear.”

“Vision residents.” Wanda said politely over the phone, the voice of her husband making her grin. “Vision, sweetheart.” You had to stop yourself from grimacing at the bitterness of the drink, not a hint of apple was in it. Alcohol was truely disgusting.

“Don’t worry, dear. I have everything under control.” She turned towards you both with a knowing smile, debating whether or not to wrap the cord around her fingers like the giddy school girl she felt like.

Agnes took another sip and clicked her tongue. “Oh! I knew you looked familiar.” She said, adverting you attention. “You’re Lori’s girl, aren’t you?” You couldn’t explain why your stomach dropped. “Lovely woman, real smart cookie. Didn’t she want to be an actress or a.... hmm, oh....um -“

“A journalist.” The bitterness of the cider in that moment seemed like heaven, and you downed the rest in one go. Agnes giggled and nodded.

“That’s right, a journalist, very modern.” The conversation died after that, instead filled with tonight’s plan for Wanda. But even when you laughed and giggled along, deciding which record of Agnes’ to put on, that pit of dread remained.

You just wanted to know why.

———

So maybe baking wasn’t your strong suit, or even a decent hobby, but you did know how to set a mood. The candlight that filled the living room and the smell of vanilla (Agnes had enough of it to make you dizzy) was just the right amount of sweetness and romance.

“All done!” You call with a proud smile on your face. You turned as Wanda peaked her head out from the kitchen door.

“Aw, Kiddo, what would I do without you?” She had her hair curled to perfection, and makeup that made her look like a porcelain doll. She was the perfect wife and you had to admit, Agnes was right about you taking notes. “Are you sure you’ll get home okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” You grab your coat from the dining chair and give her a final smile. “Have fun.” She disappears back in the kitchen and you try to hide the knowing smirk on your face as you hear the front door. “I know, I know, I’ll be gone in two min-“

“You never told me you had kids.” A male voice, one you had never heard before, interrupted you. Your coat buttons were long forgotten as the couple strolled in; Vision looking just as horrified and confused as you.

“I... uh.”

“I didn’t know you were joining us for dinner, Kiddo.” Vision said with a nervous laugh. “Mr. Hart, this is my...”

“Cousin. Just flew in.” You can’t stop your hands from fidgeting as Vision nods.

“Yes! Yes, my cousin, Kiddo.”

“You’re name is ‘Kiddo’?” Mr. Hart is hostile, and his wife has to slap his shoulder when he glares at you.

“Oh stop it, it’s a lovely name.” She steps from behind her husband and lets out a small gasp. “Oh, how every atmospheric.” You forced a polite smile, blowing out one of the candles when she turns.

“What’s going on here, Vision? You blow a fuse?”

“Why don’t you take a seat...” You are quick to grab onto Vision’s hand and pull towards you with a smile. “And we’ll go and fetch the lady of the house.” Vision almost trips on the way to the kitchen behind you, you were a lot stronger then you looked.

“What’s going on?” This was not at all what you thought was going to happen. Maybe you had too much cider? “Where is she?” Vision didn’t wait for you to answer, already out of the kitchen before you could even think of a answer. “Wanda!” She was only there a moment ago.

“Vision.” Her smile fades to horror and she’s quick to move her hands away from Mr. Hart. “Oh! Oh!” She looks back and fourth from Vision and the Harts. When she caught glimpse of you, she nearly fainted, covering her chest as her cheeks bloomed a bright red.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Well, what is... yeah, what is the meaning of...” His stammering wasn’t helping, at all, to calm anyone’s confusion. “Oh, the meaning of it! You want to know the meaning of it.... and the meaning of it is that this is the traditional Sokovian greeting of hospitality.” Wanda nodded, quickly making her way over as Vision covered her eyes. “Guess who?”

“Is that my host behind me?” She faked a laugh and you chose to find interest in your shoes.

“It certainly is.”

“Lovely to make you acquaintance.”

“Yes!” You wished the floor would suck you down to a hole in the ground, the awkwardness almost suffocating. “See, I forgot to tell you my wife is from Europe.” You look up with a grin as Vision put a hand on your shoulder. “And... so is my cousin.”

“Oh, how exotic!” Mrs. Hart said with a grin of her own, how on earth did they buy that?

“We don’t break bread with Bolsheviks.” Her husband grumbled.

“Oh, hush, Arthur!” She slapped his chest playfully with a chuckle. “Have you no culture at all ? And that dress!”

“Yes! It’s... “ Vision can’t help but take a double take at his wife’s appearance. “It’s so... Sokovian, Is what it is! Yes!”

“Can I just see you in the kitchen for a moment, sweetheart?” Wanda was light and fast on her feet, making sure to pull the fabric from a lamp before going to the kitchen.

“Oh, Yes!” Vision gestures to the candles and follows his wife.

You turn to the couple, with the brightest smile you can muster.

“Please.” You say with arms wide. “Take a seat, make yourselves comfortable.” The minute they reach the couch and sit, you get to work on the candles. You only get five done before Vision barrels through the door.

“Can you help Wanda? She’s just... “ Mrs. Hart glances over her shoulder with an eyebrow raised. “- finishing dinner.”

You are quick to excuse yourself.

———

“Oh, where is she?” Wanda tightens her apron for the third time, eyes glued to the door. She had changed from the silk, now wearing a modest evening dress.

“Oh, thank heavens!” Agnes had barley even walked past the window and Wanda, wasting no time, opened the back door wide. “Oh, Agnes! You’re a life-saver.”

“What kind of housewife would I be if I didn’t have a gourmet meal for five just lying about the place?” Both you and Wanda grab for the various tins and trays, trying to save the poor woman’s arms. “Not that Ralph ever wants to eat anything but baked beans which explains a lot about his personal hygiene, mind you.”

“I can take that.” You weren’t expecting her to drop the large pot so carelessly, not being able to catch it in time as it hit your foot with loud bang on the floor. “Ow.”

“Oh, my!” Agnes dropped to her knees, wiping off your shoe and picking up the pot and lid. “Butter fingers.” You chuckle and wave it off.

“It’s okay.” She gives you a bright smile and placing everything properly on the bench.

“- sure she’s absolutely fine in there!” The sound of Vision’s voice booms through the kitchen, a warning that made you both flustered.

“Oh, thank you, Agnes. I think we’ve got it covered from here.” Wanda said, placing her hands on the woman’s back and pushing gently.

“Are you sure dear?” Agnes asked, getting a small “mhmm” back from her. “Many hands make light work. And many mouths make good gossip.”

“You’re so naughty.” Wanda scolds playfully, you were kept busy with unpacking several vegetables from her wicker basket.

“Oh, shall I pre-heat the oven then, dear?” The witch was quick to steer her around from it as you moved out of the way.

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Oh, alright then. Well I know you’re in a pinch so this menu can be done in a snap.” Agnes made sure to snap her fingers, always one for the theatrics. “Lobster Thermidor with mini-minced turnovers to start.” She moved back towards the counter, Wanda letting out a breath as she followed. “Chicken à la king with twice-cooked new potatos for your second course.” She gave you a pat as she passed you. “And steak Diane and mint jellies for your main.”

Wanda had to move back as Agnes turned once more, finger inches from her face. “Do you set you own jellies, dear?” You both nod. “Good girls.” Wanda grabs her waist again and pushed but as she inches from the outside, she calls out to you. “Recipe cards are on the counter.”

Wanda closes the door, hands up as you read one of the cards.

“So, I guess we should start with-“

“No time, Kiddo.” With a flick of her wrist; every cuboard opened and you had to duck your head down to advoid getting hit with a frying pan. “Sorry.”

The kitchen quickly was in complete chaos; the smell of various veggies and seasonings overwhelmed your senses, and while you tried desperately to grab a wooden spoon from the air to stir, the kitchen bar devider opened.

Yeah, take out the papers and the trash, or you won’t get no spending cash

You and Wanda both watched in a mix of confusion and fear, apparently Vision could sing. You reached up on your toes once more and pulled the spoon down with a satisfied grin.

If You don’t scrub the kitchen floor, you ain’t gonna rock and roll no more

Oh, right. Mrs. Hart was inches away from a stressed out witch and her teenage sidekick surrounding by levitating kitchen supplies.

Time to close the shutters.

Yakety yak! Don’t talk back

You closed them with a sharp slam.

———

The past ten minutes had to be on the list of “worst moments ever” of your life, the world felt a little too off center and you had to remind yourself that breathing wasn’t just a personal choice. Wanda wasn’t doing too great either; the chicken went from borderline ash to newly laid eggs, it was starting to feel a little too warm in here. If you weren’t panicking so much, you might have remembered that the large coat you wore that had wool lining was easily removable.

“How’s the potatos, Kiddo?” Wanda turned to you with a frown at your apparence; you were covered in flour and unmoving from the corner, bowl in hand and eyes shinny.

“Am I moving?” You ask.

“No.” She gently grabs the bowl from your hands, grimacing at the mush inside and pulling you to the table. “Why don’t you have a seat? Hmm, take a few deep breaths and just re- oh no!” It was too late to save the cream from spilling on the floor.

Wanda almost wanted to join you at the table.

“Oh, what was I supposed to do next? What was the main course again?” She let the cards float around her, hands quickly turning them.”it was... steak.” Wrong card. “No. Steak...steak Diane!”

“Yes?!” You manage to look over at the closed blinds, Vision’s voice following again soon after. “I’m just coming... Fred.”

Wanda - after taking her own advice - had finally managed to put the kitchen back in order, all pots and pans back perfectly in their cupboards. You were finally calming down, able take a minute to process as she floated the lobster to the pot of boiling water.

But both of you felt the familiar panic burn through your veins when someone came rushing in from the living room, Wanda letting out a startled gasp and throwing the meat out the window. It was only after the window slammed shut that you realised it was just Vision.

“How can I be of assistance?” He asked with huff. Funny, you wouldn’t think a robot would need to take a breather.

“Well, the chicken is no longer a chicken and the lobsters just flew the coop so the steak is the last man standing.” Wanda replied, grabbing the recipe card from the counter. “It says here I can cut down the prep time with a meat tenderizer.”

“Excellent plan. Where’s the tenderizer?”

“I’m looking at him.” He gingerly took the mallet with a small “ah” and was forced to look up when the divider opened once more.

“Hoo-hoo in there!” Mrs. Hart’s head popped in and Wanda was quick to move, almost ruining the poor woman’s curls when she closed it.

“Hoo-hoo back to you!” She pulls at the strings of her apron with a sigh. “Finish the meat, find the lobsters.” She turned to you. “Lose the coat, Kiddo.” Her apron is pulled from her hips and Vision barley catches it. “We’ll be right back.”

You stand, pulling off the emerald green coat. One look at your dress and Wanda lets out a gasp.

“Can’t go out like that.” She grabbed the coat from you and folded it on your chair, the dress was covered and she had hoped that the coat would have been an effective shield.

“I can go home and change.” You say with a wipe of your cheek. Wanda stops you from moving.

“No, allow me.” She clicks her fingers and - with a dramatic puff of smoke - your old dress is replaced with a beautiful turquoise one, white lining on the collar and floral skirt to match. It was gorgeous. “Perfection. Now, lets go.”

You give a quick “sorry” at the door, startling Mrs. Hart as you trail behind your frazzled friend.

“I hope you’re hungry.” She said with a smile.

“Starved, is more like it.” Mr. Hart replied as he pushed off the couch, a frown permanently placed on his face.

“My head is starting to feel woozy.” A low growl from your stomach seemed to agree with Mrs. Hart, luckily a loud bang from the kitchen covered the sound.

“Were either of you aware that married men are killing single men at an alarming rate?” Wanda’s hands never stopped moving, and the nervous chuckle only made Mr. Hart more frustrated.

“What are you going on about?” Another loud bang made you all jump and you had to stop yourself from cursing. “And what’s going on in there?” You luckily didn’t have to stop him from moving as Wanda fell ontop of him, his hands catching her by the arms.

The room seemed to spin, things were moving so quickly you could barley keep up. Wanda was still in the man’s arms when a loud knocking filled the room, you were sure you were going to faint.

“Who could that be?” Wanda practically ran to the door, happy for the distraction and Vision was quick on her heels. Mrs. Hart pulled at your sleeve, a kind smile on her face.

“Are you alright, dear?”

“I... uh,” The words got lost in your mouth. Could everyone just calm down for a second? The slam of the door forced you both out of the small moment.

“Who was that?” Her husband asked.

“A salesman”

“Telegram!” Vision felt the glare of Mr. Hart. “A man selling telegrams.”

“Wouldn’t you know it.” Wanda added, hands behind her back. “Good news is more expensive.” You couldn’t hear what Vision said after that, but by the way his wife frowned and pulled her apron off him, it must’ve been yet another problem. She glided past you, the sight of a pineapple behind her back didn’t answer any questions, but you let her go on her way regardless.

“Well.” Vision said, hands on his hips proudly. “I think tonight’s going swimmingly. Anyone for Parcheesi?”

“My head is spinning.” Mrs. Hart replied, feet dragging her to the couch.

“Oh, Mrs. Hart -“ You grabbed her arm, gently helping her down as Vision fanned her face.

“Did you hear that? My wife’s head is spinning. Generally speaking, I don’t like her head to do that.” You could feel the annoyance radiating off him. “You know, I’m beginning to think you’re not management material, Vision.”

“Sir, if you could just wait a few -“ The glare he gave almost made your knees buckle, looking at Vision for help as he continued.

“You know, I had high hopes for you. But from what I’ve seen here tonight, you can barley keep it together. I mean, look around.” He gestured around him with his hands. “There’s all the chaos going on in your household. Now, when are we gonna eat?”

“Dinner is served.”

Oh, thank God.

The table behind you was set to perfection; each plate the perfect distance apart, and each with a set of cutlery and wine glass. You’re stomach was growling and you were quick to move to your seat - the only glass filled with some kind of juice - and gave Wanda a grateful smile.

“Breakfast for dinner? How very-“

“European.” Mrs. Hart interrupted, eyes glued to the table.

“Ohh! Let’s have a toast!” Vision moves to his end of the table, the Harts following as you raise your glass. “To my lovely and talented wife.”

“To our esteemed guests.” Wanda adds with a smile. You all clink your glasses with a small “cheers” and take a sip of the juice. It was sugary sweet, but did nothing to fill your belly. “Well, please eat before it gets cold.”

You don’t have to be told twice; sitting besides Mrs. Hart - who Vision was quick to offer a chair to like a gentleman - and letting your napkin rest on your thighs.

“So,” She said as everyone settled properly in their seats. “Where did you two move from?” She grabbed her napkin. “What brought you here?” You cut a small piece of the sausage and raised it to your mouth. “How long have you been married? And why don’t you have children yet?” Wanda let out a small laugh, so many questions!

“I think what my wife means to say is that we moved from...” You took another bite, warmth filling your body, and it took everything in to not gulp down the whole plate.

“Yes, we moved from...” Wanda’s face was a exact mirror of her husband’s, both struggling with empty memory.

“And we were married...”

You couldn’t stop eating, fork always full of egg and toast, the conversation becoming background noise.

“Yes, yes, we were married in...”

“Well? Moved from where ? Married when?” Mr. Hart’s voice snapped you back, another bite and you swallowed it down with a gulp of juice, eyes now between each end of the table.

“Now, patience, Arthur. They’re setting up their story. Let them tell it.” His wife waved him off with a smile and bite of food. Wanda stumbled once more, her fumbling only causing the tension to rise.

“Yes, what exactly is your story?”

“Oh, just leave the poor kids alone.” You took another sip, gagging as you felt something on your tongue.

“No, really, I mean,” It was slimy and thin, and as you pulled it out with your fingers, confusion filled you at the sight of a brown leaf. “I think it’s a perfectly simple question. Honestly.” It dropped to your plate and you picked up the almost empty glass, the bottom was a dark orange, and the hundreds of little pieces floating in it made you feel sick. “Why did you come here? Why?”

Something’s Wrong

Mr. Hart slammed his hand down on the table, startling you to the point of completey dropping your glass, juice staining the carpet by your feet. You were left helpless as you stared at the man in front of you.

“Damn it, why? Why did you...” The air from his lungs vanishes, face turning red as he chokes.

“Oh, Arthur, stop it.”

Why won’t you move?

“Stop it.”

This doesn’t make sense

“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”

Mr. Hart grips the table, letting out another failed attempt of breath before vanishing under it, still chocking.

“Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.”

This is wrong, all wrong

“Stop it.”

I want to go home

“Vision, help him.”

And just like that, the world makes sense again.

You let out a shaky laugh as Vision helps the man up from the floor. You take one more bite of food as Mr. Hart checks his watch with a sigh.

“Well, would you look at the time?”

“Yes. We’d better be going.” Mrs. Hart replies, standing as you follow suit, making sure to tuck your chair in.

“Well... are you both alright?” Wanda asks, giving you a small smile as they walk to the door.

“We had such a lovely time.” She turns quickly and wraps her hands around Wanda’s eyes. “This guest is leaving your home.” She laughs.

“Yes, thank you for coming.”

You pay them no mind; body moving passed them on autopilot, you didn’t care to hear them say goodbye, didn’t care when Mr. Hart told Vision about a promotion, or when Wanda offered you the guest bedroom since it was just “too late to walk home alone, you didn’t care.

And when you finally slipped into the covers, eyes shutting as sleep took hold of you, you finally felt at peace.

Your mind was yours, and yours alone for the first time that day, and you wanted nothing more then to wake up under the star-lights in your bedroom.

Tag list (open, just ask)

@white-wolf-buckaroo @y-napotat @learning-howto-be-myselfx3 @fruitiseavey

All my stuff is open, and I’m always happy to hear from people so feel free to let me know what ya thought. I always get stuck halfway through writing but I hope it wasn’t too hard to read

Off to the sixties we go

#daughter!reader #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #wandavison x reader #wandavision imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #teen!reader #stark!reader #marvel x y/n #wandavision x you #marvel x you

216 notes · View notes