#WinterVenom | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jokekinsjoke505 · 6 months

Text

Stay with us (part 2)

(part one)

Ed (age 26) X male reader(age 26) X Lorraine Warren( age 25)

Warnings: this is just going to be fluffy and a bit angst

tag list: @wintervenom.

(3 weeks after the incident) I woke up slowly opening my eyes only to shut them quickly again due to the bright light. I felt a very uncomfortable feeling in my nose and throat I put my hand on my nose only to feel a breathing tube I looked around the room only to find Ed and Lorraine sleeping in the corner I snapped my fingers to try and signal them that I was awake but it didn't work so I said "Ed. Lorraine. I'm okay" I whispered and that was enough to wake them both I was immediately met with hugs and tears from both and once I made eye contact with them both……. I then understood that somebody gave a fuck about me I then felt Lorraine lean over and kiss my cheek making me look at her "Don't do that please" I said as my lip quivered due to the love I had towards them that knew would probably never be returned. I then felt a rough hand on my cheek i looked to my left and saw that it was Ed "Y/n. About your letter. Is that true?" Ed asked me making me look quickly at them both before looking down nodding in shame " Fuck I'm so so sorry guys. It's okay if you guys wanna cut contact with me" I said as I felt a tear run down my cheek but was quickly wiped away by Lorraine who then cupped my face into her hand making me look at her in the eyes. Then unexpectedly she kissed me while Ed held me close scared to lose me " I- w-…w-what?" I said in shock not understanding the situation but then Ed hugged me again squizzing a bit before saying "y/n we love you too" I then felt another tear run down my face.

(time skip to 3 months)

Me, Lorraine, and Ed have started dating but have to hold it a secret due to how much people look down on a truple that a woman can't date two people and how much people look down on two men dating. But when we were for example either in my home or their house we would cuddle, kiss, tell each other 'I love you' and also be able to look at each other without having to hide the love in our eyes. I also started going to therapy and fixing my mental health.

I walked in the door of the warren house and was immediately greeted by Judy who ran to me yelling in happiness "Y/n!!!!!" I quickly lifted the 8-year-old and hugged her then I sat her back down, took off my coat, and went to the kitchen where Ed and Lorraine stood and I quickly was greeted by kisses making me chuckle a bit "So how are you two doing?" I asked while taking a sip of the coffee cup that Ed had prepared for me before I came here "Oh a lot of work… We're heading to the countryside of Burrillville town. Do you mind babysitting Judy for a bit" Ed said and I smiled "Yeah of course I can" I said looking at Judy who was looking at the TV. I then felt a soft hand upon mine " Thank you Y/n that means a lot to us that you're willing to take care of Judy while we're working" Lorraine said to me while smiling before kissing me and I kissed back while smiling a bit into the kiss.

Later that day after spending some time with them they left and I gave them both a goodbye kiss and watched Judy saying goodnight to her parents due to how late it was and that it was time for Judy to go to bed when it was time for them to leave I grabbed Judy from her parents and held her in my arms and I could feel that she was falling asleep already making me chuckle "okay bye goodluck to you two and please try and stay safe" I said to them and watching them drive away then after they were out of sight I closed and locked the door and went upstairs and went to Judy's bedroom while I had her in my arms and when I laid her down onto the bed she woke up and looked at me and said "I love you, papa, goodnight" before falling asleep when she said that it was like being strucked by millions of shock bombs and I sat there for a moment in silence before leaning down kissing the top of her head and whispered "goodnight Judy I love you too" while kissing the top of her head. I stayed there until she fell asleep then I sneaked my way out of her bedroom and went to the guest bedroom and got ready for nighttime.

alright folks this is the end of this story but there will like come like moments between this lovely truple.

#ed and lorraine warren #the conjuring x male reader #the conjuring x reader #ed warren x reader #ed warren x lorraine warren #lorraine warren x reader #Lorraine warren x male reader #Ed warren x male reader #Ed X lorraine x reader #ed x lorraine x male reader #the conjuring universe #the conjuring #the conjuring 2 #the conjuring 3 #the conjuring fandom #the conjuring fanfiction

44 notes · View notes

subverbaldreams · 3 years

Text

Asylum in Winter

Chapter 1: Shadow

Wholly inspired by this brilliant WinterVenom sketch by @frostbitebakery. Linked with permission -- THANK YOU!

contents: WinterVenom, brainwashing, hints of Stucky, escape from HYDRA, 1.1k words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I knew him.

It’s an effort for the soldier to form the concept. Even harder to turn the concept into words.

Bucky?

A name. What does it mean?

Images flip through his mind. Disjointed. Meaning lost before he can begin to grasp it. A slithering, tingling sensation rides up and down his spine. It has been doing this ever since the bridge. A HYDRA agent that had died during the fight. The agent’s skin had turned black and seemed to melt into the soldier’s skin, a living shadow which crept into his body and coiled around his spinal column. Resting. Watching. He doesn’t think a thing like this has ever happened before, but he has no way to be sure. He has been hot ever since that moment. Fevered. Malfunctioning.

Bucky?

Flash to another bridge. A train. Falling, falling.

Heat in his spine. Always moving.

BUCKY!

His head rocks to the side with a slap that leaves his ear ringing. He blinks, coming back to the bright room, the technicians. His handler stands in front of him. His handler has slapped him across the face.

The slithering goes haywire inside of him and a strange feeling boils up in his chest. Rage. He’s used to feeling the battle rage during the mission. During the fighting. But never with his handler. It feels separate from himself somehow. Alien.

The slap helped. It’s jogged a few pieces into place so that he can speak. He looks up into his handler’s craggy face. The entire room narrows down to those lined, cold eyes. They should be the only thing that matters to him in all of existence. But they aren’t. Not anymore.

“There was a man on the bridge,” the soldier says. “Who was he?”

Discomfort, bordering on pain. He’s not built to think about anything outside of the mission. Yes; that’s exactly the problem. That’s why this is so hard. The shadow inside him ripples gently across his insides, almost as if to soothe him. It reminds him of a different touch.

Blue eyes, blond hair. A smile. A caress.

That slither through his spine. Constant motion and heat. Pieces of pictures that won’t come together to make any kind of sense. That face keeps playing in his head.

Blue eyes, blond hair. A voice. A name.

Bucky?

His handler says something. But the soldier is distracted. The slithering has paused at the base of his neck and the shadow speaks inside of him.

I fix you, soldier.

The voice is deep. Deep like falling from a bridge onto snow and stone. It’s not his own voice, but it resonates through him as if speaking from his very bones. Not like the voices that come from the machines, the ones that blast his mind apart and rearrange the shattered pieces until nothing fits right. This new voice makes sense out of the chaos. In the quiet space after it finishes speaking, the soldier is suddenly able to form a second thought which ties back to the first.

The man on the bridge. I knew him, the soldier tells the shadow. Pleading. He is lost. He has only just realized that he is lost. That he may have been this way for a very, very long time.

I KNEW him.

Despair.

I know, the voice assures him. I will help you.

Something sparks in his chest then. If he’d been more self-aware, he would have called it hope.

“I knew him.”

Out loud now. Words.

His handler sighs with a disappointment that cuts through the fog and rips at his chest. The other inside of him, the slithering voice, squirms in discomfort as well. It is uneasy with the handler. It wishes him to be gone. The soldier is aware of this, but has no other context in which to put that knowledge.

His handler pulls up a chair and sits in front of him. Speaks of the mission, the mission which is Everything, but the soldier can’t get those blue eyes out of his head. Something about them is so vital and important that it’s breaking him inside. This is not the mission, and because of that, it flutters just outside of reach, leaving him unable to focus on anything at all. The presence in his spine comes forward again, speaks to him in that bone-rattling silence.

I give you a new mission, soldier.

The soldier’s attention turns inward, fixating on the voice. It speaks with authority. It cuts through the fog. He’s listening.

We will go and find the man from the bridge. That is our mission now.

The soldier’s back straightens.

Yes.

The voice has given him what dangled so torturously out of his grasp. New orders to fit the new need burning inside of him. He looks up into the face of his handler. Layers and layers of fog strip back from his mind as the new orders slot into place like machine parts on an assembly line.

“Do you hear me, soldier?” his handler asks.

We find the man from the bridge, says the voice inside of him, drowning out every other sound.

Yes.

He wants this. He is eager. That is a new feeling. The soldier’s face stretches in a baring of teeth. His mouth feels full of so many, many teeth.

“Gotov podchinit'sya.” The voice from inside of his bones comes out of the soldier’s mouth, melted together with his own voice. This does not bother him. It feels right; it feels natural for them to say the words in unison:

Ready to comply.

His handler jerks back from him, eyes going wide. All of them do: the ring of technicians and agents spreads out from him like the shock wave of an explosion.

“What the hell was that?” His handler recovers quickest and snaps the question at one of the technicians. “What was that?! Did you change his teeth?”

The soldier tries to stand. He is able to raise himself slightly, but he stops. Trembles from head to foot. Something inside of him is shutting down. He is never to harm his handler. Never to defy the Will of HYDRA.

Give me control, says the voice in his mind.

“SIT DOWN, NOW!” his handler barks, and the soldier falls back into the chair.

I knew him.

But he’s not meant to know. They’ll put him back in the machine and the knowing will vanish. Hollow misery fills his chest.

Soldier. I will take care of us, the voice insists. You are my perfect match. I will let nothing harm you.

Now, give me control.

“Yes,” the soldier whispers.

“What?” his handler snaps.

But the soldier is not able to answer. He’s surrendered to the voice in the back of his spine and now the slithering sensation is running through his entire body like hot water, burning him from the inside out. Moving to the surface of him like lava boiling up from under the earth.

When they try to get up this time, it is easy.

[on AO3] [all my works]

#WinterVenom #james bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #my fic #stucky #bucky barnes #frostbitebakery

3 notes · View notes