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strawbeelemonade · 11 months

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Imagine: Being Miles Morales’ best friend but also your a bit insane

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🕷- Miles used to be so scared of you

🕷 - Even before you started a mutual friendship you sorta just…. kept appearing.

🕷 - He wasn’t sure when he became desensitised to you. but he likes to think his new double life of being a crime fighting upstart has given him a bit of a tolorence.

🕷 - Miles will now watch you eat an apple from the top down, core, stem and all, and literally not say anything.

🕷 - Your so consistently insane in such a harmless way, it’s kinda nice.

🕷 - He wishes you would stop picking up wild animals, though.

🕷 - Seriously stop. at least one of them will have a fatal disease.

🕷 - You keep venturing into the underground subway to play with the New York rats. Nothing bad has happened yet but that doesn’t mean nothing will.

🕷 - Don’t get me wrong. Miles isn’t overprotective or anything, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still worry. Your one of his closest friends.

🕷 - He’s not sure what he’d do without you.

🕷 - So please take the rat out of your jacket pocket. Please.

🕷 - Oh but it’s so cute!!

🕷 - You are Cinderella actually.

🕷 - Miles stumbles across you as his spider-sona surprisingly often.

🕷 - Not always when your doing something illegal, so he kinda forms this double friendship with you.

🕷 - It’s hard because he forgets your not supposed to know who he is!!

🕷 - He keeps forgetting to deepen his voice and act macho. You just make him relax so easily.

🕷 - I like to think His powers are particularly in tune with body language, even if he doesn’t mean or want to. And it can become so incredibly exhausting. all the extra information and interference is unrelenting unless he’s completely alone or has his headphones on.

🕷 - But you’re different. You let Everything rest on the surface. You say what you think, and miles found after a couple of months of knowing you that you’re actually more deep thinking then you like to let anyone realise.

🕷 - Your completely willing to sit in total silence with him. It’s so relaxing.

🕷 - The closer you both get the more he starts to see that you are actually a total sweetheart.

🕷 - You remember little things about him, your willing to go through great lengths for him. He knows that no matter where the both of you are or what your doing, you are ready to drop anything and everything to come to him if he needs you.

🕷 - He doesn’t demand it from you, but…

🕷 - You show up outside his dorm window at 3am all on your own ok?!

🕷 - He just mentioned he was having trouble sleeping!!! It’s not his fault!!! … but he’s not complaining either.

🕷 - So yeah, you put him at ease.

🕷 - Which is why it comes to no one’s surprise except miles when you bust him within the first two weeks.

🕷 - It scared the shit out of him. The next time you saw him as spider man you were like “Yo, Miles”.

🕷 - Y/N PLEASE.

🕷 - He asks you how you found him out, And you laugh and claim his mask made him look like he’s bad at Spanish. He socks you in the shoulder and you laugh harder.

🕷 - He then timidly asks if you’ve said anything to anyone.

🕷 - You tell him you don’t have deep enough conversations with anyone else TO tell.

🕷 - He understands what your trying to say.

🕷 - It’s actually a lovely little moment.

🕷 - As Spider-Man, he’s gotten to know an even crazier side to you. The fact that that was possible scared him a bit.

🕷 - Miles always wondered what you would get up to when he wasn’t around. You would disappear for hours, even days at a time. But you’d always come back.

🕷 - You were like an outdoor cat lmao.

🕷 - Turns out your a bit of an adrenaline junky.

🕷 - “Y/n this is a 7 story building and there’s no stairs how are you up here.”

🕷 - You liked feeding the pigeons… which was… yeah. Ok, fine.

🕷 - Miles wasn’t sure how his parents would react to you. He wasn’t ASHAMED but… Was he worried? Definetely.

🕷 - His dad is a COP.

🕷 - When He gets home from a couple hours of patrolling New York after school he has a heart attack when he sees you sitting on the couch nursing a drink while chatting to his mom.

🕷 - Your not fake, your still you. but you make a conscious decision not to pull out the rat in your pocket until you both head to his room to hang out.

🕷 - He’s much more emotional then he likes to make himself out to be. He’s still trying to figure himself out, He’s still only 14 after all.

🕷 - So hearing you drop deep emotional wisdom at 2 in the morning is a fucking EXPERIENCE.

🕷 - The deep conversations you have (and, now that he’s thinking about it the meaningless ones as well) feel like precious moments. They leave a lasting affect on him, your presence makes him feel safe.

🕷 - He’s not sure how to say all that out loud though.

🕷 - He doesn’t have to. you already know.

🕷 - His parents are happy to know that he’s made you as a friend. No matter how much or little they really know about you, anyone with eyes and two working ears can tell that your a good kid.

🕷 - You probably end up in the hospital a lot.

🕷 - Like a lot a lot. You are in so many wrong places at so many wrong times…

🕷 - An arm in a cast is considered a small case when it comes to you.

🕷 - Miles wonders how your still even alive this point!

🕷 - foreshadowing

🕷 - After you become more acquainted with miles’ family, you start getting visits from them!

🕷 - Especially If you don’t have any stable adult figures in your life.

🕷 - You get in a lot of accidents and fights. And it starts getting worrying. You don’t go looking for any trouble but you don’t let the criminal population of New York stop you from venturing out at night, either.

🕷 - In the waiting room Your all smiles and laughs. Nothing fazes you it seems, even under extreme amounts of pain. so it makes them relax a bit.

🕷 - But they are MUCH more willing to let you practically walk in and out of their house whenever you need a Homebase to fall back on.

🕷 - Mr. Davis does NOT enjoy getting called out late at night over a complaint of a homeless person loitering on a bench and it’s literally just you.

🕷 - What are you doing out here young lady/man/ster.

🕷 - Sorry sir I missed my bus

🕷 - But why were you sleeping outside!

🕷 - Eepy.

🕷 - Let them help you please you don’t have to do things on your own.

🕷 - You’ve only gotten lucky enough to be attacked a handful of times.

🕷 - But when the opportunity arises you are so ready.

🕷 - Remember how I said you were crazy in a harmless way? Forget I said that.

🕷 - Miles has literally watched you rip an old (albeit loose) stop sign out of the ground and beat a mugger over the head with it.

🕷 - He was not ready.

🕷 - You don’t even have any powers that he knows of. No super strength or healing. No heightened senses to protect you.

🕷 - Miles is in awe of you sometimes.

🕷 - he’s saved you from trouble a

Handful of times.

🕷 - you’ve literally got Spiderman looking out for you.

🕷 - If anything happens to you

He will freak the hell out.

🕷 - you might end up being room

-mates at his new school

🕷 - No matter how low he’s feeling he knows that you’ll find a way to make him smile.

🕷 - You find the craziest things to do, there’s no where you’re not willing to venture and there’s nothing your not willing to play with.

🕷 - Unfortunately Miles suffers from the terrible ailment of being a teenager 💔 (and also occasionally having terrible bouts of anxiety)

🕷 - often times he just feels so painfully uncool. He catches himself asking if he’s really cut out for this life. Not just about being the next Spider-Man, but also in the the-American-dream-is-not-real-and-I-don’t-have-a-future kind of way. He worries if he’s failing underneath the weight of his burdens. That he’s a loser.

🕷 - But you don’t let him feel that way when your around.

🕷 - You make him feel like he’s cool. You make him feel like he’s funny. like he’s the most interesting person in the world, your so unshakably and enthusiastically invested in him and his successes!

🕷 - You celebrate with him when he wins small fights. When he saves people. When he gets higher grades on exams.

🕷 - He doesn’t feel insecure standing next to you, even when your personality is as chaotic as it is.

🕷 - Miles isn’t sure sure how he got so lucky to have met you. He doesn’t realise you feel the same about him.

_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•_•

#miles morales #spider man #spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #not romantic btw #platonic #miles morales x reader #eyestrain #flashing lights

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gothicknightz · 1 year

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family ties | ethan landry

notes: oh boy you guys are gonna like this one. VERY MAJOR SCREAM SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!!!!!!!! I cannot get any more specific than that.

part 2 out now!

When she moved to New York with her best friend, they both had planned on getting an average college education, having fun, and graduating.

That was it.

Why couldn’t it have been that simple?

The four of them were stranded in the abandoned lobby of the theatre when Sam had gotten a call from the Detective, claiming that he had done some digging into Kirby and that she was let go from the FBI a couple of months ago for being mentally unstable, and he believes she is the killer.

She quickly turned her attention towards Sam, “What?” She snapped, her arm still wrapped up from her paired attack alongside Mindy on the subway.

Putting a foot down, she crossed her arms, “There’s no way we can stay here.” Attempted to try the entrance in which they came in, to find out it was locked, “Shit.” She turned around quickly to face the, “It’s locked.”

The group frantically looked for a way out of the theatre, as they weren’t going to be trapped with the possible killers. Tara had noticed some sort of fire escape, but that wasn’t until Ghostface appeared and attacked the group, which they fought back.

Chad decided it was a good time to be a hero, as he fought against Ghostface so that the girls could run. This proved to be a bad decision for him, as a second Ghostface came up and started stabbing alongside the other before ushering the trio back into the theatre.

As the five of them make their way back into the theatre, Kirby suddenly reappears out of nowhere and claims that she was knocked out by two Ghostfaces, but the trio can’t trust her after the Detective’s claims, who arrives subsequently after Kirby.

After what seemed to be a battle for trust, the Detective shoots Kirby, revealing himself as the third killer.

(y/n) screams as she was the closest, her heart racing in anticipation, afraid of what was going to happen next when the other two Ghostfaces de-mask themselves. Subsequently, after the Detective reveals himself to be the third killer, the Ghostface wearing Nancy Loomis’ mask revealed himself.

It was Ethan, (y/n)’s best friend. The friend she had planned on getting a college education and graduating with. The friend she had known for years, the friend who was responsible for their firsts.

Somebody she had trusted.

It was then revealed that Quinn was the final Ghostface, much to everyone’s shock, as they had seen and heard of the brutal murder Quinn had endowed.

The trio was cornered at each end by the three killers, with Sam slowly connecting the pieces that all three of the killers were related to none other than Richie Kirsch, one of the killers of the Woodboro Massacre in 2022.

As the trio was attacked and coerced back to the center of the theatre by the killers, the Detective sighed, “It wasn’t until I saw that photograph of what you had actually done to him, that I knew.”

“That I knew you had to fucking die- that you had to be punished, along with anyone else who stands in our way.”

Pushed and insulted by Quinn, Sam, and Tara were forced to stand in front of the Detective, with Ethan taking hold of (y/n), and holding a knife to her throat.

As the Detective went on about how he indulged in his son’s love for the Stab movies, and how they were a bit dark for him, he explained that there was no deeper bond than of a father and his firstborn.

“Despite the loss of Richie, I couldn’t have been happier after learning of a new addition to our family.”

The look on both the sisters’ faces was beyond puzzled as they watched the detective make grandiose gestures as he waved the gun in (y/n)’s direction.

“I knew it was a bit young for those two to get hitched, but,” the Detective paused, taking a breath for a brief smile, “She made it a lot easier to get us in here, and I’ve never been more proud of a future daughter in law, right (y/n)?”

The Carpenter sisters had another round of fear and shock as they turned their heads to one of the closest friends the gang had had, with even Mindy trusting them.

(y/n) was breaking away from a kiss with Ethan as Tara and Sam watched them in awe, the girl breaking into a fit of giggles and a content sigh.

“You know, Sam,” She said, turning towards the illegitimate daughter of the original Ghostface with her boyfriend slash fiance’s knife in hand, “You should really save the date.” She took a swing at the eldest Carpenter sister and laughed.

“Because it does fucking run in the family.”

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shurisasthmaticgf · 3 months

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daughter of hades blk! reader ⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

summary: you arrive to camp half-blood and are the only topic of conversation. rumors already circulate catching the attention of one particular cabin which means you now have a problem with one specific girl. everyone is dying to know who your father is but you're trying to protect your identity unsure of what will come when he claims you as his own. what nobody expected was it all to happen on your very first night.

character list: hades daughter! reader, clarisse, grover, percy, annabeth, male oc (briefly)

warnings: swearing, fighting, mentioned parent loss, clarisse is a bitch

You dragged your feet along the dirt pathway that led back towards the open grass training grounds of the camp. The other campers were enjoying their night after a long game of capture the flag you missed by a day. You were slightly appreciative that you got to camp when you did because fighting off a fury and minotaur in one day was enough. The entire idea of this place was just peculiar to you but you’d seen much stranger on the New York subways back home. One minute you were walking home from school half an hour after it began because some girl in your class lied and said you punched her. The next minute some winged lady with a bad pixie cut was trying to kill you. Not even three hours later, a minotaur nearly succeeded in the fury’s failed task.

Upon your arrival people were interested to know who the new girl was that escaped the minotaur's clutches. Rumors began to circulate that you were a daughter of Poseidon because of the minotaur fight. According to one of the girls in your cabin, a demigod named Percy killed a minotaur on his first night at camp and got claimed as Poseidon's first son shortly after. Since you’d also “defeated” a minotaur in everyone else’s eyes that meant to them that maybe you too were a child of Poseidon. Everyone seemed to like that narrative except one cluster of Ares children that had been eyeing you all day in way that felt a lot less than admiration. It didn’t help that the rumors followed your every step and grabbed more attention the longer you stayed in the open.

You had only made it a few steps outside of Hermes cabin and the amount of stares you were getting made your skin crawl. Just as you were about to give up on trying to make it to dinner, a familiar face appeared in front of you. The satyr greeted you, “Hey you’re outside again. I was coming to invite you to dinner. Oh and I made you something in arts & crafts.” He pulled a small crown of yellow and white dandelions from behind his back and placed it on your head gently. You couldn’t help but smile at the gesture, “Thank you, Grover. It’s beautiful.” The satyr stuck out his wrist proudly and said, “It matches mine too. Usually Annabeth and Percy are here to match with us too but they’re not coming back until late tonight so you’ll have to wait to meet them.” You weren’t sure if you were looking forward to meeting this Percy guy based on the fact that an entire cabin hated his guts and now you for even being associated with him.

As you followed Grover down the cabin step you eyed the other teenagers around you before meeting his gaze nervously and he glanced down at your right hand. Grover stared for a minute then said, “I don’t think the axe is helping.” He chuckled and reached for the axe but you pulled away before he could touch you or the weapon. There was an awkward silence before he told you warmly, “You have nothing to worry about y/n. you are safe now okay? It’s just dinner time and it’s taco tuesday. So I’ll take this and you get some food, and we can sit outside on the beach away from everyone else. Deal?” You nodded and swatted his hand away when he reached for your axe again, this time he asked, “Then how about you put it back?” You followed his instructions and closed the cabin door behind you before he led you off to the dining hall.

You picked at the last taco on your plate as Grover sat beside you and asked, “So do you think you know…” There was no point in letting him finish so you spoke up, “No. Daddy never told me or gave me hints about who he really was..."

Now that was a complete lie.

Truthfully, you did have an idea of who your father could be but there was no tangible evidence. The only lead you really had was poorly remembered dreams from your childhood. The dreams depicted you sitting on a throne of bones guarded by three vicious dogs with countless dead soldiers at your feet. Glittering obsidian and midnight blue marbling lined the throne room and the smell of bakhoor, incense, and spices clung to the back of your throat from your father's timeless cologne. As a child you recall him calling you "my little goddess" and teaching you that darkness and the dead were nothing to fear. As you grew older you realized that you truly were the only thing that mattered to him which is why you stayed out of sight for so long. He gave you the hints long ago but you never wanted to believe they were true. Especially after you arrived at camp to see that there wasn't even a cabin for your suspected father.

Grover continued staring at you prompting you to continue speaking, "Some could say Ares because I was always hot-tempered and starting trouble as a kid but…could have just been the absent father- dead mother thing? The Ares kids here aren’t my type of people.”

Grover nodded along and asked curiously, “Where’s the axe from?” You shrugged and answered, “I found it in my house as a kid. My grandpa was a huge nerd about that kind of stuff and used to collect and sell things like swords and knives and my grandma said it was probably just another collectible he didn’t sell before he died. As a kid I always thought daddy left it behind for me, kinda like a gift.”

The sound of a twig snapping drew both of your attention to a boy who was cautiously making his way to you both. Grover beamed and waved him over, “Ezra, hey!” The satyr turned to you and continued, “Y/n this is Ezra, son of Demeter.” You gave a genuine smile and the boy who looked around your age relaxed more and responded, “Nice to meet you.” The young demigod was fairly tall around 5’11 and his thick black locs with their puffy roots added an extra inch or two. Assorted colors of beads adorned each loc on his head right at the ends or the middle. He smelled of earl grey and cucumber in a subtle way that complemented the shades of green in his outfit and headscarf. Ezra stuck his thumb back towards the rest of camp, “Percy and Annabeth are back, and they’re looking for you.” Grover lit up and said, “Thanks man, I’ll be right over.” The demigod waved to you before disappearing down the path back towards camp. The satyr beside you excitedly stood up, “Percy and Annabeth are the ones I told you about. I know they’ll wanna meet you let’s go- wait. On second thought I’ll bring them to you, just stay here and I’ll be right back.” Before you could even say that you didn’t want to meet anymore new faces, Grover was already running back towards camp leaving you alone looking over the beach once again.

The peace and quiet lasted no more than three seconds because through the lapping of gentle waves a chorus of amused whispers and snickers behind you. The same group of Ares kids that had been eying you like a meal since the moment you arrived crowded around you. The ringleader of the pack you’d recognized as Clarisse, pushed you with the blunt end of her spear. The thick, chocolate brown ringlets that framed her face swung back and forth with her laughter as she looked at you laying on the ground with food spilled on your t-shirt. She laughed along with her cabin siblings and murmured, “Pathetic.” The end of her spear pressed further against your sternum making it slightly harder to breathe in. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips when you remained silent, “What? Cat got your tongue? ‘Cause you sure had a lot to say a minute ago.”

Clarisse kicked the retracted bo staff that you owned, in its current form it was no longer than a roll of quarters. Your fingers reached for it, opening and closing them desperately but stopped immediately when her foot pressed them into the dirt. one of her brothers mocked you in a whiny tone, “You think Daddy weft you a widdle gift?” He high fived Clarisse and laughed before she crouched down and grabbed you by the collar so your faces were merely inches apart. Clarisse hissed with words laced of venom and hatred, “Nobodies like you don’t get gifts from the gods. We all know you’re not one of the big three so why lie to everyone about it? You think you’re all special because you lied about fighting a minotaur and killing a fury? Lying about being Poseidon's kid?” You rapidly shook your head, “I never lied because I never said any of that.” She let out a laugh and continued, “Gods this is too good, too easy…let’s get one thing straight right now though. You’ll always just be a lonely little nobody. And I know for a fact your Daddy will never claim you as his own because you’re weak. That’s why you hide behind that little satyr all day, your little protector. But where is he now? Huh? Nobody’s here to protect you now.” She plucked the flower crown from your head and threw it aside allowing one of her siblings to stomp it into the dirt.

Anger coursed through your veins and your eyes filled with a fiery rage you hadn’t felt since your family fell apart when you were eight. You gritted your teeth together and tightened your jaw then without thinking, you leaned forward and spat directly into her face. The crowd of siblings had grown to a larger group of nosey teenagers that oo’ed as as Clarisse let go of your t-shirt and let your head fall back onto the ground with a thud. The young demigod flipped her prized spear in her hand and pointed it directly beneath your chin by your throat. The very tip of it electrified and glowed a fiery red only a millimeter from touching your skin which made you swallow thickly. For only a second pure fear flashed across your face which was enough for Clarisse to know she was winning already. A sinister smile crept onto her face and you pressed your head back further into the earth, begging to the skies above for someone, anyone to help.

Your eyes fluttered closed and you heard a deep voice in the distance, “Hit the ground.” The voice was familiar of someone you knew but couldn’t quite remember. Nevertheless, you followed the command and balled your free hand into a fist before bringing down against the hard dirt and gravel covered earth. The force of your fist fractured the ground beneath Clarisse and her siblings' feet causing them to stumble back. The retracted bo staff rolled back into your grasp which you held in one hand. with the other, you reached for her spear and snatched it from her grip whilst spinning it back so the pointed end now faced her and her siblings who were lying on the ground. You took a step back and twirled the spear in your hands for show then threw it to the side which she immediately scrambled to pick up.

Of the six Ares blood teenagers, three of them were on the ground unconscious while the other two staggered to their feet ready to fight back. You quickly extended your bo staff and whipped it across your body knocking one of the boys back before swinging it quickly in an X formation knocking out the girl beside him. Bringing the staff once more across your torso then over your shoulder and around your head, you knocked the boy out as well leaving Clarisse the only one standing.

Clarisse stood more angry than before now knowing that you were stronger than you looked, proving that she now had competition. Her cheeks felt hot as other campers watched the two of you standing before one another clearly questioning if she was going to be the one that walked away tonight. One of the smaller kids you recognized from Hermes cabin threw you the shield he owned. You nodded to him as a thank you and took a step back. Clarisse watched as you brushed one of your thick twists out of your face and raised an eyebrow which pissed her off more. Why weren’t you struggling? Why weren’t you afraid? The idea of you winning pissed her off the more she stood there which was enough for her to lunge forward with her spear. You held up the shield and caught the body of the spear in your hand and turned around to try and slip it from her grasp. The girl pushed you trying to shake it from your grip and when you held on tighter she huffed and threw you forward not realizing her most prized possession would be thrown with you. Crackling and hissing sounds filled your ears the moment your back hit the ground and knocked the wind from your chest. Clarisse looked at the half of her spear left in her hand while the pointed end was still lodged into the shield in your palm. Blood curdling screams echoed throughout the entire camp and everything seemed to still around you as the teenage girl stared in horror. You walked over to her and pushed her back with your shield before she could run up on you. She hit the ground once more and you snatched the other part of her spear from between the arm hold. All of your thoughts were clouded with anger as her words rushed back through your memory once more.

You climbed on top of her with each of your legs on a side of her waist so you were hovering above her torso with a smile far from friendly. You held one of her arms down with your knee while the other was trapped beneath her torso but she didn’t even try to fight you back anymore. She watched with her eyes now full of fear as you held the sharp end of her broken spear beside her face, dragging the tip of the blade on her skin but not hard enough to cause harm. You placed the tip underneath her chin so she was forced to meet your gaze, but a sudden cloud of darkness fell over you both. The curtain of shadows engulfed the two of you which took your focus from Clarisse long enough for her to free her arm and push you off of her. The shadows rose as you made your way onto your feet and stepped away from the crowd that had formed. The feeling of your heart pounding in your chest seemed to be the only thing you could focus on as the dark clouds fell from your head to surrounding your feet. When you could finally see ahead of you all that was there was the ocean, same as before.

“Y/N!” Grover’s voice broke through the crowd as he manuvered through campers and stared at you with darkness and shadows pooling at your feet. A girl with deep umber skin and black waist length box braids stood beside him and a pale, freckle- faced boy with a mess of blonde curls that brought out his ocean blue eyes. The three of them along with every other camper and Chiron who followed the crowd stared up above your head. You looked up to see a long royal blue and obsidian bident, a black snake coiling up the body with two navy prongs pointed towards the sky at the top. A glow of midnight blue surrounded the bident and illuminated around you. It lowered into your hand and the weight brought a smile to your face as you felt a wave of pride in knowing what this meant.

Chiron’s voice bellowed, “You have been claimed by Hades. King of the Dead. God of the Underworld. Y/N L/N.”

You turned to face Grover and his two friends with a sweet smile on your face as if you didn't just kick a whole cabin of demigods asses. "Hey I'm Y/N, daughter of Hades. Nice to meet you both." The blonde boy you knew to be Percy just stood with his mouth agape until the girl elbowed him. He scratched the back of his head and said, "Hi, I'm Percy." You smiled and shook his hand while the girl gave you a head nod, "Annabeth." Grover looked past you and motioned to the Ares kids on the ground, "You did all that?" Looking over your shoulder you saw some of them were now coming back to and you turned back unfazed, "More or less." Annabeth slung her arm over your shoulder and led you along with her two other friends away from everyone else, "Yeah I like you. We're gonna get along well I think."

⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆

authors note: i saw a lot of people posting their own fics about pjo so i thought i'd give it a try. i'm new to this franchise and i've only watched the show and movies. but i'm starting to read the books now so this is what i've come up with using the stuff i've seen, read, googled, etc. please be kind if there's something 'inaccurate' bc im still new to this!

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fanfic #black reader #black fem reader #clarisse la rue #hades daughter! reader #pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #annabeth chase #grover underwood #black reader insert

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richiekirschs · 10 months

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SHE’S MY BABY — Spider-Man!Lottie Matthews

spider-boy, king of thieves…

warnings— no use of y/n, fem implied reader (referred to as “unsuspecting girl”), lottie is vaguely hurt

[part 2]

The Yellowjackets had been spreading their theories about Spider-Man since he was first spotted in New York, just across the river.

It was surprisingly Misty who came up with the theory that he was actually from Jersey City, after how many times he’d been spotted on the ferry that takes you across the Hudson from Midtown. Nat had disagreed, stating that he was probably in Jersey City so often because of the amount of freaks patrolling the streets.

Most of your teammates think it’s stupid—with Jackie saying it’s just some asshole trying to get on Subway Creatures, and Tai saying the guy in the suit just wants to piss off J. Jonah Jameson. Laura Lee thinks he’s devilish. Nat indulges in the fantasies after having witnessed one of Spider-Man’s fights firsthand (and also because she likes to piss off Jackie.)

The girls are all over at your apartment tonight for the regularly scheduled movie night. Everyone takes turns— last time it was Tai, and now it was you.

You’re in the bathroom washing your hands when there’s a THUD! from the fire escape outside the bathroom window.

You frown, wondering if you should check. Is it your neighbors, smoking a blunt? Or is there maybe a cat that needs help?

You yank up the blinds to check, deciding it’s better to know than risk it distracting you the rest of the night.

It’s not your neighbors, and it’s definitely not a stray cat.

It’s Spider-Man.

You can’t do much but freeze and mumble, “You’re shitting me.”

He stares back at you with comically wide, unblinking eyes. He points at the windowsill and mimes pushing it up before silently pleading with his hands.

You sigh. Of course this would happen. All you can do as you unlock the window is pray that it’s actually Spider-Man, and not some douche in a costume looking to take advantage of an unsuspecting girl.

You push the window up and he tumbles to the ground of the bathroom, somehow remaining inhumanly quiet.

In the process, though, he aggressively knocks a (glass) bottle of perfume off of the counter.

“Shit!” you hiss.

“Are you okay?” someone calls. Maybe Nat? It definitely could’ve been Van.

“Yeah!” you call before turning back to the masked vigilante. “You have 30 seconds to explain yourself.”

Spider-Man holds up a finger, chest heaving, before reaching up under his mask and yanking it off.

It’s not a man at all. It’s Lottie, your best friend who was conveniently missing from tonight’s get-together.

Your jaw drops. “What the f—?”

You don’t get the chance to finish your exclamation as she bolts up to clamp a hand over your mouth. “Shh!”

You frown back at her, trying to convey your emotion with your eyes.

“I’ll explain, I promise,” she assures you. “But I’m hurt. I just got my ass kicked. I need you to help me, but you can’t tell the others.”

You don’t respond. Her hand is still over your mouth.

“Promise me!” she hisses, begging.

You nod frantically, and she slowly removes her hand. “I can’t believe you’re a girl. I was betting major money with Nat that Spider-Man was Jeff Sadecki.”

She narrows her eyes at you. “Jesus Christ. Are you going to help me or not?”

“I can’t do that if you don’t tell me where you’re hurt!”

She swallows, unable to meet your eyes. “Under my suit.”

You sigh at her. “Can you stand?”

“I think so.” She manages to stumble to her feet, and you help her unzip the suit, both of you flushed bright red.

“Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed, Lot,” you tease as she collapses onto the closed toilet. “We’ve changed in front of each other a billion times.”

“These aren’t ideal circumstances,” she groans.

Her wound isn’t too bad, but it probably hurts like a bitch. Sliced across her leg, the cut slowly oozes blood. Her knuckles are scraped up, too. There’s already green-yellow bruises forming around both wounds.

“It’s not awful,” you assure her. “They just need to be cleaned and get bandaged.”

You dig out isopropyl alcohol and a rag before a apologizing for the pain you’re about to cause her.

She whimpers as you clean the gash on her leg and wrap gauze around it, and you have to pray that she doesn’t see the way your face burns.

Someone rattles the door handle. “Are you still in there?”

Laura Lee. With a start, you realize you didn’t lock the door.

You and Lottie lock wide eyes with each other before you’re yanking her up and shoving her into the shower. She shoots a web to seal the curtain to the wall, tucking herself behind it.

The door swings open, and Laura Lee peers around from behind it. “Hey, we were thinking about ordering pizza—is that your blood?”

You look down at your hands, but it’s not yours. It’s Lottie’s, from where you had wiped it from her leg. You need to think of a lie, and quick.

“Oh,” you shrug in a hopefully nonchalant manner. “My nose started bleeding, and I put my hand over it while I got the rag.”

Laura Lee, of course, steps in to investigate. “Did it stop? We should say a prayer.”

You gently swat her prodding hands away. “Yeah, I’m fine. It stopped. I just didn’t get the chance to wash my hands.”

“Really,” Laura Lee insists. “We should say a prayer. This could be a sign of something.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, “of a ruptured blood vessel.”

You indulge in Laura Lee’s plead anyway, and pray that Lottie can resist her urges to laugh during Laura Lee’s prayer like she always does.

Lottie knows she doesn’t have much time.

She carefully slides the suit back on before slipping out of the very window she’d come through. From there, she makes a Pink Panther-esque getaway a few feet away from that window to the one that leads to your bedroom.

She carefully slides the bedroom window shut before flinging open a dresser drawer in hopes for some clean clothes. She digs out a Kean University pullover and plaid pajama pants. It’ll have to do.

She stashes the suit in the spot that she’d swiped the clothes from, and just as she shuts the drawer, she freezes. Someone’s coming.

There’s nowhere to hide. Your bed sits atop a wooden bed frame, meaning she won’t—can’t—fit underneath. Your closet isn’t big enough either. That only leaves…

When Nat swings the door open, she completely expects to find someone in a striped shirt with a sack of money over their shoulder. Something is being very noisy in your room, and she’s intrigued to know what could possibly be causing such a ruckus.

Instead, she finds… nothing.

She checks under your bed, even though nobody besides a small child could fit between the planks of your bed frame. She checks your closet. Hell, she checks the fire escape.

Nothing.

“Hm,” she decides, but there’s something… not right. There’s an itch under her skin that won’t go away.

When Nat leaves, Lottie can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

She carefully lets herself down from the ceiling with a breath of, “Holy shit,” and a hand pressed to her chest.

There’s still work left to be done, though.

Quietly this time, she swings back out onto the fire escape.

There’s a knock on your front door, and you frown. Everybody’s here, and Misty didn’t say that they had already ordered the pizza, just that they were thinking about it.

You quickly rinse your hands of Lottie’s red blood before following Misty to the door.

Low and behold, the new guest is Lottie fucking Matthews.

You feign surprise at the sight of her. “Hey, I thought you weren’t coming!”

She walks over to you, arms open wide, limping ever so slightly as she engulfs you in a hug. “It’s a long story.”

Through a faux grin, you growl, “Tomorrow, we’re going to get coffee, and you’re going to explain everything.”

“Deal.”

KITTY MEOWS! I kept seeing Spider!Lottie edits on TikTok and there was an itch in my bones that could only be satisfied by writing this…

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cosmicpearlz · 1 year

Text

too busy being yours

summary: being in a secret relationship suddenly kills you when another girl openly flirts with your man.

pairing: chad meeks martin x fem!reader

…………………………………………………………………………….

you and chad had been dating secretly for over five months now. the two of you decided to keep it a secret from the group because you wanted to enjoy each other privately. it meant sneaky into each other’s dorms and leaving a couple of minutes after the other person to meet.

“sorry i’m late! my painting class ran a little bit over time,” you rushed over to the benches your friends sat at with a bright smile.

“you’re just in time, we’re talking about the upcoming halloween frat party,” mindy said to you while you sat down next to chad. a knowing smile was shared between the two of you.

“someone’s been getting down and dirty,” he points to your paint covered skin. you playfully roll your eyes and shove his shoulder.

“yeah yeah whatever. i’ll have you know that-“

“hey chad, right?” ameila, a known cheerleader at blackmore stood in front of the group ignoring the burning stares of everyone.

“uh yeah?”

“i just wanted to ask if you were going to the halloween party on saturday.”

“we’re all going,” chad motions with his hand to the rest of the friend group.

“good, save me a dance,” she winks at him and walks away. you’re mood was instantly put off by another girl hitting on your boyfriend. you couldn’t even say anything because to everyone else, you guys weren’t dating just friends.

“anyways. y/n, what’s your painting this time?” tara turns her body to face you from the bench opposite to you.

“um the theme is new york related, so i was doing something about the subways. i think i’m gonna go back to my um dorm to wash off this paint,” you looked down at your shoes and back up with a weak smile. you decided to ignore chad’s worried look and got up from your seat.

“i’ll see you guys later,” you waved and walked away.

a knock on the door pulls your attention away from the book you were engrossed in. standing up, you walked and opened the door. on the other side stood your boyfriend who still had the worried look in his eyes.

“what’s wrong with you?” he pushed passed you and walked into your room. with the roll of your eyes, you sighed closing your door.

“well hello to you too shit.”

“babe.”

“what?” chad wraps his arms around your waist pulling you into him. his eyes kept their gaze on your face the entire time.

“what happened out there?”

“nothing, i wanted to wash the paint off of my body.”

“that’s it?”

“um yes? what else would be wrong?” the fact that chad didn’t see the bigger picture of another girl hitting on him was crazy to you. you didn’t want to bring it up, scared about being the overly jealous girlfriend. even though you were incredibly jealous.

“you’d tell me if anything else was wrong, right?”

“of course baby,” you pecked his lips and removed yourself from his arms to put your dirty clothes in your laundry basket.

“hey hey, i didn’t say that you could remove yourself from me,” chad picks you up from behind making you giggle while he lays you gently on your bed, hovering over your body.

“so i have to ask for permission to move?” you whispered as you caress his face with one hand.

“yeah.”

“oh really?”

“mhm,” he bit his lip before leaning down to kiss you once again. you loved moments like this with him. it was as if you were in your own little world.

you threw your shot back bitterly while glowering at chad and ameila taking shots together. she had grabbed his arm the minute you guys stepped into the house. pulling him to where the other cheerleaders and frat boys were. it didn’t help that his costume consisted of being a shirtless cowboy. your costume matched his being you were dressed as a dallas cowboys cheerleader.

“y/n you might want to slow down. this is like your four shot in two minutes,” ethan said to you while looking at mindy and anika for help.

“can’t.”

“is it because your jealous over the cheerleader and chad?” you looked at mindy’s smug face with wide eyes.

“why would i be jealous over that?”

“you’ve been staring at them the entire time. plus, we all know you’re in love with chad,” anika pitches into the conversation.

“you know what, i’m gonna go dance,” you shook your shoulders and headed to the dance floor. if chad wanted to play this game, he’ll be the one losing.

when chad turned his head, he expected to see you with ethan, mindy and anika on the couch but you weren’t there. he sends a questioning look to his sister. to which she points to middle of the room holding back a laugh.

he turns his gaze to mindy’s pointed finger and finds you dancing with some asshole. a certain fire was burning within him. how dare someone else dance with his girl? without missing a beat, he walks over to where you were completely ignoring ameila’s calls for him.

“howdy partner, she’s coming with me.” you stopped dancing to stare at chad.

“what was that? i didn’t hear you.”

“uh yeah you did.”

“well we’re having a good time, aren’t we?” you stayed quiet keeping your eyes on your boyfriend whose anger was growing by the second.

“this isn’t up for debate,” chad swiftly picks you up and puts you over his shoulder. one arm holding your legs and a hand holding your ass knowing that the shorts of your costume was short enough.

“chad what the fuck!”

“stop talking.”

“no, what is wrong with you? let me down!” he continues to ignore your pleads and the stares of other party goers. he walks upstairs and finds an empty room, only then did he let you down. chad crossed his arms over his chest matching the glare you gave him.

“what the fuck was that?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“that little stunt you pulled back there,” you moved your gaze from him to the floor.

“look at me baby,” he gently cups your cheeks making you look at him.

“you gotta talk to me. tell me what’s wrong,” with furrowed brows, you felt yourself get mad again. you remove yourself from his hold and crossed your arms over your chest.

“my problem is you and ameila.”

“me and ameila?”

“you heard what i said chad. don’t act confused.” he chuckles slightly causing you to get even more mad.

“oh so your laughing at me?”

“yes because there is no ‘me and ameila’. you’re being ridiculous,” you scoffed at the boy and started pacing.

“then why are you entertaining her? huh?”

“oh i see what’s happening,” you stopped your pacing to glimpse at his growing smile on his face. of course, he’d find this humorous.

“what’s happening babe? enlighten me.”

“you’re jealous.”

“am not.”

“are too. the evidence is there don’t try to deny it,” he points a finger at you with his stupidly handsome smile.

“you’re literally entertaining her!”

“i’m sorry if it seems that way but i’m too busy being yours to even notice another women. you’re my women,” chad tugged your arms uncrossed and moves you closer to him.

“it’ll help if she’d know that too.”

“you want me to tell everyone that i’m yours just like you’re mines?” you nodded your head at his words. maybe being public will stop the very obvious flirting towards him.

“i need your words sweetheart,” his breath whispered on your lips sending a shiver down your spine.

“yes, i want be with you publicly.”

“yeah?”

“stop being a tease,” you groaned and hid your face in chest while wrapping your arms around his waist.

“i’ll scream it to the world that i’m in love with you. everyone will know that i only have eyes for you.”

“good. and everyone will know i only have eyes for you.”

“hell yeah they would,” chad pulls back from the hug to kiss your lips. he’s been dying to do that ever since he forced you into the room to talk to him. he’ll never get over kissing you.

you jumped making him catch your legs, so that they were around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. chad deepen the kiss caressing your ass with his hands. a moan slipped through your throat and you pulled away from him. he tried chasing your lips desperately wanting kiss you again.

“easy there cowboy,” you whispered biting onto your bottom lip.

“can’t help myself when it comes to you.”

“let’s go take this rodeo somewhere else, yeah?” he places you down and keeps his lustful eyes on you.

“sounds good to me, i got a horse you can ride.”

“chad!” you slapped his chest with a laugh, feeling your face heat up.

“i told you i can’t help myself when it comes to your sexy ass,” he slaps your ass and opens the door for you, following right behind you. with joint hands you guys headed back downstairs.

#chad meeks martin x reader #scream vi #chad meeks martin x fem!reader #chad meeks martin

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fictionalmenmakemecry · 6 months

Text

Fuckin' with the Ecosystem- Chapter 4

Character: Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Summary: You decide it was time for a new chapter. You pack up everything in New York and drive back to Chicago with Carmy by your side. Due to the stress you both feel from the move, you're both on edge which leads to a mess you have to deal with.

Warnings: Angst, cursing, fluff

A/n: Chapter 4 is here! The further this goes the more twisty it's gonna get! I'm only getting started. Poor Carmy always has the best of intentions but seems to get caught on the delivery. Thank you for all of the support guys. I really appreciate it. I have a taglist going, let me know if you want to get added!

If you haven't read, here's: Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 and Chapter 3

Enjoy!

As you put the key in your door and walk into your apartment, it hits you that you're starting a new chapter. Once you made the decision to move to Chicago, you rang your landlord, letting him know that you were moving out. He wasn't too pleased to hear about it. You told him that you'd find someone to sublet it for the remaining 3 months you had left on your lease. You knew it wasn't going to be a challenge as New York was continuously dealing with a renting shortage.

The two weeks flew by. You felt like you were always catching up on what needed to get done. But never being able to finish a task completely. You put an ad out for your sublet, and to say people were desperate was an understatement. You had several responses in minutes and multiple viewings arranged. Once you picked the few people who were good to sublet, you handed it over to your landlord, as he had the final approval. Within a day of that, you had an official date to move out, and suddenly, everything felt real. Before this, in your mind, you felt like you could change your decision, and it would have been okay. But now, you don't have an apartment next week, so now you had to move, whether you had wanted to or not.

"Getting cold feet?" Carmy voice spoke out of your phone.

"No, no.. just seeing my things in boxes is... making it real" you looked around seeing your frames leaning against the wall and your possessions all over the place disorganized.

"Your flight is good?" You asked, bring your focus back on the task on hand.

There was a moment of silence.

"Yea, think so. Here, let me send you the link to my flights" Carmy muttered

Your phone vibrated with an email notification labeled as "NY flight".

"Okay... well... I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?" You asked, feeling your stomach flip realizing you'll be seeing him.

Since you've been so busy organizing everything, you forgot the whole point of the actual move. To start a new job in a new city, with great people and a close old friend. The stress was nearly over when it came to closing the chapter in New York, and was replaced that was excitement for Chicago.

"Sure will, don't stand me up." You sensed a smile off of him

You waited at the arrival gate, scanning the bundles of people coming out. Your eyes hopped face to face, until you finally recognized one. He walked up to you with open arms carrying his backpack on one shoulder. He was wearing his wool coat and white shirt combo. Always a classic for him. You gave a quick hug, breathing in his usual smell which was a mixture of cigarettes, deodorant and gum.

Carmy was relieved to see you waiting there. He noticed you before you noticed him. A warm sensation spread across his chest when your eyes landed on him and a smile broke out on your face immediately.

You both hopped on the subway, Carmy telling you everything that happened since you've been gone. He explained how Richie, Fak and Marcus has been busy breaking down the place. While Tina and Ebra have enrolled into a short eight week course in culinary school. Syd has been busy researching new flavors and themes for the restaurant.

"Suga' has been dealin-"

"IRS are being a pain in the ass" You cut him off walking down the street getting closer to your apartment.

"Yeah.. how did you know?" Carmy looked over surprised.

"We've been chatting on the daily. She keeps me in the loop. She's also been helping me find a place in Chicago." You grinned at him pulling out your keys as you came up to building.

"Oh.." He hummed and looked down.

"So, you know everything already. Why didn't you stop me?" He asked, him now feeling out of the loop.

"I like the sound of your voice babes" You mocked, opening the door.

You looked back at Carmy, who followed you into the lobby, giving you a smirk.

You both arrived at your apartment and swung the door open. He followed you in, dropping off his bag at the door.

"I have most of the small things packed away. It's alotta awkward big stuff I'm gonna need help with." You turned around to see Carmy looking around while walking further into your living room.

You felt vulnerable now that he was standing in your safe place. The place you called home for 4 years.

"I know- its not much bu-"

"It's.. its nice. Cosy," he landed his eyes back you, giving a gentle smile.

Your apartment was small and not the most modern. But over the years, you tried your best to make it yours. Your kitchen was a joke. You barely could swing a cat in it. But lucky for you, you worked in a restaurant which mostly kept you fed and you never really cooked anyway.

"That kitchen is an abomination," He stated, pointing at it in shock.

You chuckled knowing he was going to judge your kitchen.

"You wanna know the worst part?" You walked over and grinned.

You leaned over to the stove which was crammed in the corner of the kitchen. You opened the door of the oven. The door stopped 3/4 of the way before hitting the wall in front of it. You glanced over to Carmy who's jaw was open. He raised his arms to his head in dismay.

"What the actual fuck" He uttered, walking away with his head shaking.

With a busy couple of days ahead of you, you started getting errands done. Tomorrow was the final day, and there was still a lot of shit that needed to get sorted. He started breaking down your your bed frame and tables you had.

"Ikea piece of shit" He muttered to himself as he struggled with taking out a screw that was stripped.

"Who the fuck made this bed?" He yelled out to you from the bedroom.

You smiled to yourself, knowing he was going to love the answer.

"Take a guess" you yelled back.

"Dickhead Nick" He spat finally getting the screw loose.

You giggled to yourself hearing the string of curse words Carmy was uttering.

"Finally" He huffed, after half an hour of struggle.

You popped your head around the corner and watched Carmy gather the parts of the frame and put them all together in the corner of the room. The frame was heavy, but Carmy lifted it like it was nothing. You couldn't resist looking at his arms flexed with the movement of each piece. His arms against the tight sleeves of his shirt.

"You okay?" You snapped back to notice Carmy looking over at you, dusting his hands off.

"Yeah- yeah, sorry. I'm just tired," You walked away, feeling yourself blush from the thought of getting caught admiring him.

Carmy went to collect the rental truck as you finished off putting the last few things in boxes. That night, you both slept on the floor with a blanket and pillow. It didn't matter how uncomfortable it was. You were exhausted to the point of passing out.

You woke up with the sounds of your alarm. You picked up your phone to see 5:00 am. You looked over to the sight of Carmy laying on his stomach, his face smooshed into the pillow with his mouth half open. As you sat up, the floor boards creaked, making him stir. He stretched out his arms, yawning. His white shirt tossed beside him.

"Warm?" You rubbed your eyes.

He looked at you with his eyes half open. You flicked your eyes to the white bundle beside him. His eyes followed, and realized what you were talking about.

"Um- yeah. This place is fuckin' boilin' at night," he muttered sleepily, sitting up.

"Yeah, that's the one thing I don't like about this place." Your eyes traveled down to his bare chest. His gold chain resting against his skin. Your dragged your eyes away before he noticed.

You thought back to years ago when he was way more scrawny. He really had grown into his... physique. His shoulders were a lot more toned and built than you remember.

Hold up, you caught yourself. You stopped yourself going down that rabbit hole. It's been awhile since you've gotten any but you and Carmy have never been like that.

He leaned over and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing his hair all over, pushing his arms through.

"So... let's get ready, and pack the final things in the truck, sweep the place, and we should be good to go before traffic gets bad," you commented getting onto your feet and made your way to the bathroom.

"Heard" He mumbled rubbing his eyes.

You both worked your way through the apartment and played Tetris a little with trying to cram as much as possible in the truck.

"I'm tellin' you, if you take that out, you're just going to undo all the work we did last night." You grunted, getting annoyed with the constant struggle of your belongings.

"Lemme try." Carmy snapped back, glaring at you.

He handed you the box that you were both struggling to fit. You were beyond exhausted, and the thought of driving 12 hours put you in a further bad mood.

You watched, annoyed, as Carmy readjusted the lamp that was taking up too much space.

"I know you don't wanna have this in front with us, but you goin' hafta." He took out the tall lamp awkwardly, losing his patience with it. He wiggled it and angled it out. Then, he took the box off of you. He slotted it into the gap that was left behind by the lamp. He slammed the doors and turned to you, a small smile appearing on his face.

"What?" You barked, frowning back at him.

He stared at you for a moment.

"Nothin," he shook his head, the smile still on his face.

If he was honest, he couldn't stay annoyed at you when he looked over and saw how pissed you were, holding your lamp. He thought about how rough you both were . Your hair tied away from your face, and his just a bush on his head. Both sporting bags under your eyes. You standing there holding a lamp angerly, just shifted something inside him. To him, you looked ... cute? He couldn't place the words. He dismissed the thought quickly but with the remnants of the smile left behind. You both had a lot of shit to get through today, and he's thoughts weren't on top of the list.

You entered your old apartment for the last time. Completely empty. The walls looked bare after so long filled with your favorite pictures and posters. You walked through all the rooms and checked the closets to make sure nothing was left behind.

You glanced down the hallway to see Carmy leaning against the wall, playing with the truck keys absent-mindedly. Two months ago, you were minding your business, figuring out your next job in New York. With one phone call, now you're moving to Chicago to work in a non-existent restaurant.

You made your way back to him, and you took one more look before closing the door.

"Ready?" He asked, looking back at you.

You nodded, smiling back at him.

With a long road ahead of you, you decided to take turns driving the truck. Carmy offered first. You didn't know if because he saw how tired you were, or he was just being kind. Twenty minutes into the journey, you were conked out.

One arm on the steering wheel, the other resting on the door, he would glance from time to time over to you. You leaned up against the other side of the truck with your head against the window using your hoodie as a make-shift pillow.

Carmy had a constant knot in his stomach the last week. He felt excited to see the plan that you made actually happen. It really did feel like a new beginning had started. The restaurant being remodeled and you moving to Chicago, it felt real. For once, he was actually feeling hopeful about the future.

Along the journey, you made a few pitstops for bathroom breaks and snacks.

"Where... ar wehh?" Carmy lifted his head feeling the truck coming to a stop outside a gas station.

" I dunno, fuck middle nowhere Pennsylvania," you said before getting out of the car.

"Still? Fuckin' hell. How big is this state?" He groaned, readjusting his head.

You came back with two energy drinks, and you threw him a bag of chips.

"Thanks," he mumbled

"It's the only payment you're getting for helping me move." You smirked, cracking open a can.

You heard him give a light chuckle before putting his head down again.

Once the sun came up, you both felt more awake. It a crisp winter morning. Cold, fresh, but the sun was shining with a clear sky.

You pulled over for another pit stop.

"Huhh" Carmy readjusted in his seat, completely disorientated from his power nap.

"Needa pee" you said restlessly.

"Again?" Carmy complained

"Energy drinks run through me"

The truck came to a halt. You jumped out and raced inside, barely waiting for the automatic doors to open fully before going in.

Carmy sat up in his seat and decided it was his turn to drive. He made his way to the driver side. He thought to himself for a moment before turning on the truck, putting it into drive, and pulled away.

He had no idea what got into him, but he wanted to fuck with you.

He had moved the truck to the other opposite side of the gas station, to the point where you would have to turn around to see it as you walked back to the old parking spot.

He watched the door waiting for you to come out. His hand resting against his mouth, tapping his finger on the steering wheel.

You walked out in the direction where the truck was parked, to see it not there anymore. You swore you parked it right there, took glance around to your left and right.

Were you losing mind?

Did Carmy take off?

Doubtful but it did pop into your mind.

Carmy continued to watch from the driver seat. A sneaky smile emerging on his face, he watches you look around. He could tell you thought you were losing your mind.

He gave the steering wheel a light push, and a short horn blared out of the truck. He saw you whip around from the sound, and a smile popped up on your face.

You went to the truck and got in the passenger side.

"You fucker" you giggled punching him lightly in the arm.

"Gotta keep you on your toes." He chuckled, rubbing this arm where you hit.

"I thought you dipped." You said securing your seat belt.

"Na, I'm not that bad," Carmy pulled out of the gas station.

For the next couple of hours, you chatted about random things, trying to keep you both dying from boredom. The conversation would get interrupted with Carmy's road rage of people cutting him off and traffic building up as you got closer to the cities.

"Why the fuck would Google Maps bring us on this route, it's slammed" He glanced at his phone

"Cause someone wanted to avoid tolls" You rolled your eyes to him.

"You fuckin' think I'm willing going to pay 90 dollars to those bastards?" He lightly hit the steering wheel in frustration.

"Well it would only be half-"

"It's not about the money..." He broke off as you both crawled along the road.

Nine hours into the twelve hour road trip, and both of you were starting to feel it. You were looking rough to begin with, but now you both felt just as rough.

With you behind the steering wheel again, you glanced over and saw him gaze out the window, his head leaned back. You didn't know if he was asleep. The sun was slowly starting to make its way down. The dusky sky was followed by an early dark night.

"Pull over at the next gas station." Carmy spoke up, looking over at you.

"Why?" You checked your rearview mirror and blind spot before turning your blinker on.

"Chicago is a mess when it comes to one ways. It'll be easier if I drive the rest of the way" He explained licking his lips.

You didn't fight him on this. You hated driving in a new city, the stress of the traffic, especially in a truck that was a lot bigger than your old car, you were glad he offered.

You switched sides and felt a ping of sadness that the road trip was near to an end. You were glad that the move was finally over, but wished you appreciated being around Carmy more. You felt the need to cling onto every minute spent with him. The feeling that you got in your stomach, your gut. You haven't felt that in a long time. The peace you had with him when cruising down the highway.

"What's your address?" He asked as you pulled up to a stop at a red light.

You pulled up your email confirming your lease contract on your new apartment. He glanced over, his eyebrows immediately popping up.

"You're fuckin' kidding me, ight?" He scoffed.

"What?" A hint of worry in your voice.

"Could you have picked a rougher neighborhood?" He asked sarcastically.

"I asked Sugar an-"

"Suga hasn't a fuckin' clue. Why didn't you ask me? Or anyone else...." He ridiculed.

"It can't be that bad." You dismissed his attitude, trying to reassure yourself.

There was a moment of silence with the red light turning green.

"Fuck- okay. it's fine. But if any- I mean any shit goes on, you immediately call me or Richie, okay?" He took his eyes off the road staring at you.

"Yea- yes, of course" You nodded pressing your lips in a fine line.

As you traveled through Chicago, you looked through the perspective of it as your new home. You took note of maybe some cafes and shops you wanted to go visit. You started to see more and more neglected buildings as you got closer and closer to your new apartment.

"I didn't have many options." You blurted out.

"With the timeframe I had and what I can afford right now. It was between this place and another, but I would have to wait another week before getting the other place, " you explained, feeling uneasy looking out at the streets.

"W-why didn't you tell me? We could have worked something out? You know I would have fixed you up with somethin'," He said softly.

You looked over and saw his eyes soften. You felt guilt, layered on top of all the negative feelings that were in your stomach right now.

"I didn't want to be in the way. I felt like I was already a burden with taking you away from the restaurant for the last couple of days" You brought your head down not wanting to go down this train of thought.

Carmy brought his hand up to his face and rubbed his forehead. He didn't want to make the situation worse. He wanted to pick his words carefully, feeling your uneasiness beside him.

"Look, the place isn't probably that bad and it's not forever" He gave a small smile trying to comfort you.

"Six months" You whispered feeling completely disheartened by the change in atmosphere in the last couple of moments.

"Yea- that's good. That'll fly by" He smiled again.

But it was too late, his first reaction was the real one and not what you needed. To move to a big city by yourself is hard enough. To do it in the bad part of town is not something you wanted to also deal with.

"What number?" He asked, looking out his side window

"Two thirty," you whispered.

Carmy continued down the street at a slow speed, keeping track of the numbers on the buildings.

"Here" He pointed in front of him pulling over to the curb.

You didn't even want to look. The weight in your stomach was keeping you from looking up. The adrenaline from New York had worn off, leaving you with disappointment and worry.

Carmy hopped out of the truck and was looking at a building that was a little run down, but the entrance was clean, and there were no dodgy people around that he noticed right away. He looked up and down the street to see a corner shop and a laundromat closest. He instinctively took out a cigarette and light it inhaling the smoke. He turned back to the truck window to still see you in the seat, looking down.

"Shit" He muttered to himself knowing he fucked up. He had to say exactly what was on his mind. He couldn't just keep it to himself and wait til' you got here. He mindlessly kicked a pebble on the ground while finishing his cigarette, trying to think what would be the best thing to do. He didn't want to make things worse. You were both on your reserves when it came to energy and patience with each other. He didn't want to stumble at the final hurdle.

After a few minutes, you heard the door being pulled open on your side.

"Hey... Look, I'm sorry... this is a really nice building from what I can see..." He braced his arm on the door jam.

"You're just sayin-"

"I'm not... I'm really not. I'll promise to tell you if your apartment looks like a shithole when we go see it"

You looked up to see his dead serious face break into a smile. You felt a smile creep up on your face even though you didn't want it to.

"C'mon" He nodded up, bringing his hand out for you to grab.

He helped you down off the truck, and you went inside with him right behind.

As you went to the building managers office, he walked around feeling out the place. He walked to the mailing room, which was a mess with piles of neglected mail from past tenants.

The place overall smelt like stale bleach. It was dated and worn, but it was clean. He was grateful for that.

"Got it"

He noticed how quiet you were. He would looked over and you give him a weak smile. But deep inside he knew you weren't okay. He wanted to hug you and hold you. He never had the intension to hurt you and he was pissed off with himself that he did.

You made your way to the fourth floor and made a wrong turn on the hallway before turning back.

"Here it is, 46C," you hummed, sticking the key in the hole.

With the door swinging open, you both walked in. The layout was close to your old apartment. The door opened to the living room with a hallway to your left where the kitchen and bedroom lead.

You walked into the living room where blank walls faced you with two windows looking out to the street below.

"Bathroom isn't bad" you heard Carmy call out further in the apartment.

You walked over to see him sitting on the toilet lid.

"I see you're giving it a test ride," you chuckled.

"Someone has to." He shrugged jokingly.

Him seeing you chuckle, even if it was a light one made him feel somewhat better than he didn't completely wreck the evening.

You turned around to see the bedroom directly across. It could comfortably fit a queen bed, which was a relief. From the pictures, you couldn't tell if the bed would be cramped in it.

"So, I was thinking the bed would be here?" You whipped around, spreading your arms, imitating the size of the bed.

"In the middle?" Carmy asked walking in behind.

You nodded, turning around to face the wall.

"Yeah... I think that would work," you grinned seeing the potential in this room.

You continued to imagine how the rest of your belongings would fit in your new bedroom.

"Let's get started. There's a lot to move still," he made his way out of the room.

The curse words that were uttered from both of you as you awkwardly moved the big pieces of furniture first. It was a close call when it came to the mattress fitting in the elevator. Carmy was adamant that it was going to fit.

"No way in fuckin' hell was I gonna drag this shit up four floors." He gave out as he was crushed against the elevator holding the mattress.

Both of your faces were flushed red and sweat gleaming from the heavy lifting.

Carmy and you struggled as you dragged the plastic covered mattress down the hall to your apartment. It was the last of the big pieces with mostly boxes left to carry.

Another hour, and the truck was finally empty. You took your phone out of your pocket to check the time. Eight o clock shined back at you.

"Damn, getting pretty late" You huffed, pushing the stray hairs from your face.

"I'll return the truck tomorrow," you continued watching Carmy close the back doors of the truck.

You stood there looking at each other for a beat.

"I better head home," Carmy said, taking a few steps back.

"What? No- I owe you dinner. It's the least I could do", you crossed your arms, feeling the cold around you.

"You sure?" He checked, with his head down looking up through his lids.

With Chinese on your lap, you looked across to see Carmy lean up against one of your many boxes with his legs stretched out in front of him on the floor.

"You're right, it's pretty good," you hummed, enjoying the burst of flavor in your mouth.

Carmy nodded along, tucking into this food eagerly.

The apartment was mostly quiet with the odd random distant yell from outside, you presumed to be crackheads.

"I know you won't believe me, but I really do like this place" He looked up around your living room.

"The location is shit, but..."

"I know, but this place has potential." You smiled, finishing off his sentence.

"Yeah," He said in a soft tone, turning up the corners of his mouth.

His eyes lingered on yours for a moment. You traveled your eyes down his neck, chest, and down his arms.

You would be lying to yourself if you didn't notice his arms when he helped your lift heavy boxes. He refused to let you lift anything that he thought you might struggle with. He was considerate. Always thinking about you in a way that no one else would. Your friendship meant so much to you. In a moment like this, you felt that you might need his friendship a lot more than he might need yours.

Here you are, in Chicago. Working with one of your closest friends. Nothing else is here, only him. The vulnerability you felt in that moment, developed fear that you hadn't felt before.

"I can't believe you're actually here" Carmy spoke out, breaking your swirling thoughts.

"I know, it's just hitting me too," you said in a dissociated daze.

His eyebrows furrowed for a brief moment, wondering what you were thinking. Were you regretting your decision?

"I think you'll like Chicago," He said positively, keeping his eyes on you.

"Mhmmm," you murmured, your eyes glazed over and your mind in another world of your own.

"Y-you're not regretting your de-"

You snapped out of your trance and glanced over to Carmy to see his face covered in concern.

"No- no, no." You shook your head and smiled reassuringly.

He played with the food left over on his lap.

"Well... um.. you know I'm here, right?" He questioned.

"I know," you murmured, bringing your head down.

"I'm not goin' anywhere." He continued, leaning forward, trying to meet your eye line.

There was this sadness that you couldn't shake since getting here. You could feel it deep in your stomach. Was it anxiety? That reality has finally hit you in the face? The excitement that you felt earlier wasn't there and it worried you even more.

Carmy knew there was something up. You weren't present since you've arrived. It was a long few days for both of you, and it could have been exhaustion, but he didn't want to leave you alone. He felt guilty just walking away, especially when something was up.

You kept your head down, not wanting to make eye contact with him. You were afraid that if you did, you would completely break down and cry.

A moment later, you just heard him shuffle. You felt a warm hand on top of yours. You saw inked fingers grasp yours and a body of warmth wrapping you in a hug.

You couldn't hold back. You felt your tears spill over. You turned into his chest and buried your face into his white t-shirt.

"It's okay... you'll be okay. " He hummed and pressed you closer to him.

You sat there for a couple of moments. No other words were spoken. His embrace eased the anxiety that you were feeling. You had no idea what came over you. This was not the feeling you were expecting when first moving in.

You eventually pulled away, wiping your puffy eyes. Your face was red hot from all the crying.

"I-I'm sorry." You forced a smile on your face.

He looked at you with a comforting smile, his blue eyes flickering between yours.

"Don't be." He whispered, his arm still wrapped around you.

"I'm.... just glad to be here for you." His thumb caressed the back of your hand.

Both of you sat in your new apartment floor in between several boxes scattered. The apartment was cold and bare, but Carmy was radiating heat. You leaned into him with your legs against each other. You looked away from his kind blue eyes and sniffled. You wanted to savor this moment. The peace you felt with him.

Your soft hand under his rough fingertips made him realise that he would be happy staying like this all night. If you wanted him there, he wouldn't budge. His thoughts carried on from what your hand felt like to what maybe your lips would feel like. He could only imagine the tenderness he would feel against his.

What the hell is wrong with you?

She needs you. Don't fuck this up.

You eventually looked up at him again. Your eyes gazed at his beautiful messy hair, his fatigue blue eyes, and... his lips.

You went back to his eyes to catch him looking down at your lips. Your breath caught in your throat. Both of your eyes met in that second. Your faces inches away from each other.

Both of you scared to lean in. Both of you wanted it more than anything.

His rough fingertips grazing your cheek so lightly.

In that moment, you realized what you were risking. Did you really want to go down the same path you went down before? You move for a boy, fall for a boy... get hurt by a boy.

Carmy was all you got right now. You didn't want to risk anything that would make you lose that. As much you wanted to kiss him and give into every urge you had, the sting of your previous mistake was still there in the back of you mind. In this moment, you needed to take a step back before you did something you might regret.

You dropped your head not wanting to look into his eyes with what you were going to say next.

"Carmy...I-I can't," your voice barely audible.

"Fuck, I'm sorry- I don't..." He fumbled.

"I just... I've been here before. I can't make the same mistake,"

Carmy pulled away from you completely. His hands left yours, you felt the absence of heat immediately after he pulled away.

"I-I fucked up, I'm sorry" He shuffled to his feet.

"It's not that..." You tried to get words out, but before you knew it, Carmy had grabbed his jacket and was on his way out.

"Carmen," you sternly called out, getting up from the floor.

But the door was already shut. Your gut was twisting back and forth. You were so dazed on what just happened. It was too fast for you to even digest. You stood there for several moments trying to understand what was going on.

The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him. You felt your stomach churn realizing that you might have destroyed one of your closest friendships. You wanted him, you wanted to explain how you felt. You wanted him to convince you that you weren't making a mistake.

The deep feeling of anxiety in your stomach had emerged again, only this time much worse. As tears rolled down your face, you barely had the energy or will to tear the plastic wrapping off your mattress and root in the box, that was labeled 'bedding', to get a pillow and blanket. You let your body fall back on the mattress and instantly closed your eyes. This was suppose to be a new beginning in a new city. That clearly wasn't happening now that you've hurt one of the only people who you were close to in this city. The sirens in distance helped you phase into a deep sleep. Fatigue finally taking over your body. You didn't have any energy left to do anything else.

Carmy got back to his apartment, his stomach in knots. repeating the last moment he had with you. Remembering the pounding in his heart when looking into your eyes. Then, the sensation morphing into a sharp pain when you said his name in a negative tone.

He couldn't stop thinking about it over and over. He didn't even remember walking home. After you said his name, everything turned into a blur. The tone in your voice made him feel ashamed of himself. Were you disappointed in him as a friend when you needed him most? That you thought he was trying to take advantage of you at your most vulnerable? All these thoughts were whizzing around in his brain. His rational thoughts were no longer pushing through.

Should he have stayed to explain himself? Explain what he felt for you was something real that he's never had before. It's the surest thing that he has in his life right now, his feelings for you.

The last few days his thoughts made it plainly obvious that he wants to be more than friends. He was able to admire you when he usually couldn't. The everyday you. The you that was sleeping, eating, just living. He caught himself smiling to himself multiple times for no real reason. The only difference was, he was around you.

He kicked his shoes in the corner, dropping his jacket on the ground before dropping back on the couch. To say he was deflated was an understatement. The thought of seeing you tomorrow would usually make his pulse speedup but now, he felt a sinking feeling in his stomach.

He went through all the awful scenarios in his head. Were you going to ignore him? Or tell him to fuck off? Or tell him that you only ever saw him as a friend? Nothing else.

The last one drove a lump in his throat. He knew he wasn't going to get much sleep tonight. He didn't even care if he didn't. The only thing he wanted now was tomorrow to go by as fast and painlessly as possible.

Chapter 5

Masterlist of other fics

Taglist: wabi-sabi1090

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danmainacc · 2 years

Text

THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN IN THE WORLD

As Leo, Mikey, Don, and Casey ride in the Turtle Tank, Casey tells stories of the future…….and you.

Character: Leonardo

Writing type: One-shot

Warnings: none, just some tooth-rotting fluff and a few innuendod ;) and maybe the teeniest bit of angst if you squint

Author’s note: okay so it’s pretty obvious I am obsessed with Future! Leo and this idea randomly came to mind as I was watching The Thing ( don’t ask ) and just had to write it. ( credit to qoeww for photo )

...

“The Turtle Tank, baby! It’s how we roll in the past. I mean, the present. I mean...Ugh! Time travel’s confusing,” Mikey groaned, slumping in his seat in the Tank.

“They’re on the move. According to the subcutaneous tracker I put on Raph--.” “Wait, does that mean you put trackers on all of us?” Leo cocked his brown bone, giving his twin a suspicious and scolding look, Mikey doing the same.

“No. No, of course I did...n’t,” Donnie sheepishly denied, an awkward smile plastered on his face.

“Based on their trajectory, they’re headed--.” “To the tallest building in the city,” Casey finished, eyes wide.

“That’s right, Metro Tower,” Donnie nodded, confused at how he knew.

Casey shuddered, the memories coming back to him in flashes as he recalled the scary stories Commander (y/n) used to tell him.

“I heard the story so many times as a kid, but I never thought...And behold, from their perch atop New York City, the Kraang ripped open the sky itself. What came out was terror, and what rained down upon us was worse than death,” Casey recited.

Commander (y/n) might’ve been a little dramatic.

“They told that to kids?! Man, the future is harsh,” Mikey exclaimed, slumping in his seat once again.

“Well, I’m not gonna let that happen. We need to get into Metro Tower without being spotted. We’ll take the subway tunnels,” Leo firmly stated, turning to Donnie.

“Subways tunnels don’t offer much in the way of an escape if we need it. Are you sure about this?” Donnie cocked a brow, turning around to give Leo a serious look.

“Yeah, maybe we should--.” “Guys, we’re doing it my way. Remember?” Leo dismissed.

The two brother gave each other concerned looks before focusing back on the road, an uncomfortable silence settling over the Tank.

Casey looked around anxiously, fidgeting with a loose string on his glove.

Being sent to the past in itself was a nerve-wracking experience, but nothing was more concerning than watching his old masters fight like this.

In the future, the brothers were inseparable, the epitome of a strong sibling relationship. Everyone listened, everyone talked, everyone heard.

He had to find some way to get them talking, healthily at least.

“In the future, you guys are beyond amazing,” Casey started, catching the attention of the brothers.

“The mystic powers you’re able to harness from within are on a whole other level.”

“Of course! How have we not asked about my future?” Donnie smiled, putting the tank on auto-pilot and throwing an arm around Casey’s shoulder.

“Don’t let me down, I am expecting BIG things from me. How many Nobel prizes do I have. No! Don’t tell me. I wanna be surprised.”

“Donnie, you were the most brilliant, innovative mind of all time. Without you, the resistance wouldn’t have made it half as far as it di-is...without you,” Casey quickly caught himself, relieved to see that the brothers didn’t notice.

He didn’t want to tell them what happens, not yet, at least.

“You built weapons, tended to the wounded, and trained a select few how to build and program your tech.”

“I’m shocked, I am. Go on, continue to meet my expectations,” Donnie smirked, plopping himself back down in his seat and kicking up his feet.

“What do I do in the future?” Mikey asked, starry-eyed.

Casey turned around and gave the orange turtle a warm smile.

His plan was working.

“You are the most powerful mystic warrior the world has ever known,” Casey started.

“You trained the next generation of yokai and humans alike to wield mystic power, and protected the camp with your infinity chains at every turn.”

He walked over to Mikey, who was absolutely flabbergasted, and grabbed his wrists.

“And with those two hands, you sent me back in time!”

“Wowwwwwwwww,” Mikey marveled, staring down at his hands as Casey let go.

He quickly held them out, wiggling his fingers as he concentrated hard, a few beads of sweat rolling down his head.

It made Casey smile to see one of his former masters so fun-loving and care-free, the break from the constant worry of battle, refreshing.

“Ahem,” Leo nonchalantly cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact with the time traveling boy.

“What about me?”

Casey’s gap toothed smile grew wider, the pleasant memories of his Sensei...no...his father running through his head.

“You were our fearless leader. If there was a rescue needed, a cargo shipment to raid, hell, a patrol slot that needed to be filled, you were the man--er--turtle. You trained some of the younglings how to use weapons and hand-to-hand combat, and were the lead strategist when it came to coming up with ways to fight back against the Kraang!” Casey gushed, gasping after finishing the whole thing in one breath.

Leo smirked, resting his cheek in his palm as he soaked everything in.

“I like this. I like this very much,” He nodded.

That’s when Casey remembered one, teeny, little detail, and smirked to himself as he leaned back, casually.

He knew Leo and Commander (y/n) were together in this time, “boyfriend and girlfriend” he believed it was called. So maybe this information might put his former Sensei at ease.

“Oh, and you were married to the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Leo practically choked on air, and Donatello almost slammed on brake, Mikey’s eyes practically bulging out their sockets.

“WHAT?!” The three exclaimed in unison, frantically looking at Casey for some elaboration.

Casey nervously chuckled, confused at their sudden surprise. “W-Well, that’s what you used to call Commander (y/n). I think you guys get married 2 or 3 years after the Kraang first arrive.”

A lazy smile stretched across Leo’s face as he leaned back in his chair, relishing in the thought.

He already knew you were the one he wanted to marry, no doubt about it. You were his one and only. But so soon? And during the apocalypse? How did it work? Did the two of you make time for each other? Did the two of you do...adult things?

“Whoo hoooo! Looks like big bro put a ring on it,” Mikey teased, suggestively wiggling his brow bones at his older brother.

“She’s really that beautiful?” Leo sincerely asked, turning to Casey with hopeful eyes.

Casey returned a truthful smile, giving a firm nod. “Gorgeous. Despite the fact that she was living through an apocalypse, she could still very much compete with the women in the Before-Times.”

Leo grinned from ear to ear at the image, your already stunning self becoming even more radiant with age and development. He was over the moon in excitement.

Until he realized.

“Wait. What do you mean was?” Leo quickly asked, furrowing his brow bones as he turned to Casey with an icy stare.

The color practically drained from Casey’s face as he realized his mistake, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead.

This isn’t how he wanted them to find out.

Not like this.

“I--.” “AUTO-BREAK: ENGAGED!” The Tank stated in a robotic tone, the vehicle coming to a sudden stop.

The brothers were sent flying forward, their minds quickly forgetting Leo’s question.

Casey let out a sigh of relief as he stood up, scratching his arm.

‘Thank you, Pizza Supreme.’

...

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #nickelodeon

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 1 month

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He’s Back (Angst/Fluff)

BTTS!Turtles x reader

A/N: I’ve been toying with this small idea for some time, and decided that today was the day to write it down, finally adding Back To The Sewers to my list! Takes place around the time the turtles return from the future to their own time💚🐢

Warnings: Spelling💚

He had been gone for a year now. Your turtle boyfriend had been gone for a year. And every single day of that year, had been painful for you, as you had no idea where he had gone. Or any of his family members for that matter. It was as if all five of them had just vanished into thin air that day a year ago. And every single day throughout that year, you and your boyfriend’s friends looked for him and his family everyday. You, April and Casey had overturned every single stone in New York City in your search. But no matter where you looked, none of you could find them. It went too far that you and April stayed in New York, and looked the city through three more times, while Casey traveled to Japan to look for them there. He even got into contact with the Ancient one, and asked Usagi to look through the Battle Nexus. But nothing. The turtles were gone. And you had no idea where your boyfriend was.

You, April and Casey never gave up your search for the turtles and Master Splinter. But after having looked through every possible place the three of you could think of, all three of you opted to stay closely around the lair, making sure that it was ready for the day they might come back. You and April looked out for their stuff, and made sure it was clean, while Casey would do runs every now again, beating up and questioning any Purple Dragons he met on his way. But they knew nothing. No one knew anything. It was truly as if the turtles had just upped and left. And you were left confused and scared, fearing what had happened to the man you loved.

But it wasn’t long before you and your friends would get closure and answers to your many questions.

You had just gotten home from a late night shift, almost collapsing on your couch, still in your work uniform. You were so tired that you didn’t even turn on the light to your apartment. Instead you curled up on your couch, pulling out your phone, and opening your photo album. With a heavy heart, you scrolled through the pictures of you and your boyfriend. Your happy times together, kisses, hugs and all sorts of goofy pictures. Your heart ached, remembering each story behind every picture. His laugh and all the fun you had. Oh, how you missed him. What you wouldn’t do to get him back. To know that he was safe and to have him in your arms again. You missed him so much.

As you sat there, looking through all those happy pictures you had saved in your camera roll, you got a call from April. You looked at her name on your screen in confusion. It wasn’t typical for April to call you at this time of the night. So with a puzzled expression, you answered the call, asking April what was going on.

“Someone has entered the lair”, April said. “The alert Donnie installed on my phone just started blaring. Me and Casey are on our way down there”.

“I’m coming too”, you said, hurrying up from the couch, suddenly feeling very awake. “Don’t wait for me”, you said, as you started to put your shoes back on with one hand. “See what’s going on down there, and I’ll be right behind you”.

As you hurried out of the door, still putting on your jacket, your heart beating as fast as your running feet, carrying you down the street and directly towards the nearest subway station. During your train ride, you could not help but wonder what had entered the lair and triggered the alert. You hoped, with all of your soul, that it was something that could help you find your boyfriend, or at least let you know when you could see him again.

At your station, you ran from the train, out the station, headed directly towards Central Park. There, you made your way to the sewer that led directly down to the entrance of the lair. You lifted the manhole cover out of the way, before making your way down the metal ladder, closing off the hole behind you. Once at the bottom, your feet carried you through the tunnel, the sound of your feet echoing against the rounded walls, until you finally made it to the entrance of your boyfriend and his family's home. But then you heard something that made your heart halt momentarily, keeping you frozen in place. You heard Casey and April talking to someone. Calmly. Happily. And then you heard familiar voices. His voice…

You bolted into the lair, almost slipping on the floor when you entered the room. There you found April and Casey, talking with the turtles and Master Splinter, learning about where they had been for the past year. And there your eyes quickly landed on your boyfriend, resting on the couch between his brothers.

Your boyfriend stood the moment he saw you, everybody staying silent from the moment you bursted into the lair. For a moment the two of you just stood there, unable to believe your own eyes. But then, suddenly, both of you sprung into action, running to each other, throwing your arms around each other in a tight hug. A loud sup escaped you, the moment you felt him in your arms, burying your face against his strong shoulder, as he held you close, burying his beak against your hair, fighting to hold his own tears from falling.

He’s back. Your boyfriend is finally back in your arms, holding you as tightly as he did the night before he disappeared. He’s back, with many stories to tell after having missed you for a year, just like you had missed him.

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sweetwolfcupcake · 24 days

Text

Wildflower: 04

The Secret Garden

John Wick x Reader

Category: Short Series

Warnings: None really but creepy, questionable behaviour (what else do you expect in a yandere fic?)

Note: John is relatively younger in this fic( late thirties to early forties)

(The GIF is not mine, credit to the owner. Sorry, my pea-sized brain cannot keep up from where I downloaded it.)

Unedited

Wildflower 03

“You have given her the card?”

Another hit, another night at the Continental, another dinner with Winston.

The older man nodded, continuing to eat, eyes on his plate before they rose to meet John’s intrigued ones.

“You know that the card means…”

“She is under my protection and the hotel’s doors are always open for her— services included.” Winston completed.

“She’s a civilian, Winston.”

John could not get it. Winston seldom gave his personal ‘Access Card’ (As he liked to call it) to anyone– even in their world. John had it, Charon had it and he did not know of anyone else who had it until…Until two nights ago.

When he saw it among (Y/N)’s possessions, he had to look twice. It was, Winston's card, after all, and she fucking carried it around in her bag like an idiot.

“And how did you come to know about the card? I had it shipped to her discreetly.”

Well, that was the question he was dreading. But he would not let it show.

“I bumped into her during…a job.” He did not elaborate and hoped he would not need to.

“Wrong time, wrong place?”

John nodded. Fortunately, she had just caught the panicked rush. And she had dropped her bag somewhere along the way. John could only imagine what could have happened if the bag fell into the wrong hands– if the card fell into the wrong hands.

He had only gone through the contents to decide where to drop the bag safely. He totally did not go through her home address and ID.

Winston only hummed and continued to eat. His question, though, was still unanswered.

“She has nothing to do with our world, Winston. She does not need that.”

“Well she walked into our world, had a meeting with me, sat with us at the underground bar— everyone there saw it. I respected Artemis, and I wanted to keep my word.”

Yes, she walked into their world. Like a fucking lamb stumbling into a slaughterhouse. John sighed and continued to eat his dinner. He would rather eat by himself, in the confinement of his room, but he did not mind Winston. Besides, a dinner invitation from the manager of Continental held great significance.

He liked the silence and slowed thoughts when he was in his company, doing mundane things. Like a normal human being. That was the closest to an ordinary life he could ever get. The rest was unattainable luxury.

But in recent days. Even in the comfort of silence and solitude, his mind was filled with a certain name, a certain smile. A certain face. A certain voice.

It felt so uncharacteristic of him— it was puzzling. His hold tightened on the knife and fork, the image of her confused face as she looked around people rushing flashed in his mind.

Not again. Not again!

Gulping some wine, he tried to clear his head. He was thinking like that again. He should not be thinking like that.

She is a civilian. An innocent civilian.

He chided himself.

“Something troubling you Jonathan?”

Of course, Winston would notice.

He looked up and sighed in silence. Thankfully, Winston did not poke further.

—------

(Y/N) admitted that there were a lot of things she had not prepared herself for before moving to New York— the basics were, thankfully, sorted out in her head. And yet, the pace of life, the mouse problem, more cockroaches, and the general indifference came to her as bumps and jerks. But all was good.

Everything was good until two days ago.

Nothing prepared her for a literal shootout at a subway station and losing her bag in the process. Thankfully, she was not caught in the middle of the crossfire— it was just the panicked rush just outside the crime scene.

But what she was more thankful about, was the fact that a kind officer brought her bag to her doorstep by the same evening. Her wallet was in that bag with her address. She did not wish to think what would happen if it fell into the wrong hands. Crime in the city ran rampant.

She had heard of it, not much on the news, but more as whispers floating around in her relatively quieter town. But she never paid much heed to them. She had treated them as rumours— the news did not show much, after all. The news did not show even half of it. But above all, the general public’s indifference to such crimes baffled her.

Did they not want their city safe? Were they not afraid? What era was it?

She reflected on Alex’s words. They discussed the same.

“You eventually grow immune to it.”

He had told her. Not very helpful, but that was an explanation of some sort. People in the city must have grown immune to it— they learned to live with it. But could she grow indifferent as well? She did not think so.

But there was too much at stake. She did not wish to return to her hometown, was still not talking to her father other than one-worded texts, had a job in New York that paid well–enough, had already signed the recent contract and paid two months of rent and the overall living cost of the city kissed the skies and any spontaneous decision would end up burning her pocket— not just a hole in her pocket.

So, the only option left was to get up, dust herself and keep moving. Yet, among all the chaos, she was glad to have found a friend like Alex. His humour and insight always helped. Her thoughts moved to her encounter with John Wick a few days ago. Clearly, Alex and John knew each other. But Alex never elaborated other than calling John an ‘acquaintance’ and John…well, she might as well admit that she would be reluctant to approach him under most circumstances.

There was— she could not put a pin on it. But there was something almost ominous about that man. The way he looked, the way he spoke, the way he stood, carried himself— every aspect about him seemed to stand out. Not enough to gain immediate attention, but enough to steer clear of his way.

Now, that did not make sense. She realised. Neither did her observation that there was still something inexplicably melancholic about that man. His eyes were unreadable but sharp and so eerily calm that his gaze made her gulp– true. But there was a deep sense of sadness. It was subtle, but it was so ever-present that it seemed to have become a part of him. Nothing temporary but an inseparable part of him.

Now, that’s a bit of a stretch!

She chided herself. What was she doing? Wondering about a man she had met only a couple of times, weaving assumptions and stories?

She shook her head and took the last bite of her dinner. She missed how dinners were timely back in her home. She missed her home a lot, she was not afraid to admit it. But she was too proud to go back. So, whatever it was, she needed to get along with it.

—---

What was he doing?

John was at a fix. He had the night to himself— a chance to relax but why was he not under the covers, relaxing on his bed?

Why was he standing in the darkest corner of the room, watching her sleeping form? Her apartment was decent, he noticed and she was careless enough to not even feel a presence in her room.

What if it were someone else?

Someone dangerous?

You are dangerous.

His subconscious mocked.

John blinked, trying to convince himself that it was all for Winston’s sake— he had taken her under his wing and John, being close to Winston, must play his part in protecting her. Especially when wolves were lurking around, one had followed her from the Continental, sniffing behind, wrapping a sheep’s skin over to lure her near.

Alex Norton…

He was skilled with poison and guns, and while John had never crossed paths with him at work, they had shared a few respectful nods now and then at the Continental. But now…

Now he was keeping an eye out for Norton.

John gulped, keeping his eyes fixed on her form. If he could keep his reservations aside, he understood Norton’s fascination with the girl.

They were both starved creatures from hell, crawling out now and then, and she was an angel, offering the solace he knew he did not deserve.

She offered what people like him were deprived of. It was tempting to just pull her into the depths of the dark with him, let her light it up— but how unfair, how cruel would that be?

Did he not see and endure enough cruelty? Why would he want an innocent civilian to lose their privileges just because one starving, deformed, empty soul had suddenly realised how impossibly bleak and bitter his world was?

No, John had made peace with this life. He would not call himself ‘the best’, but he knew he was good—- good enough to win special privileges at the New York Continental– to win the confidence of Winston Scott.

He never truly understood Winston, or his ways.

As far as he knew, Artemis was like any other patron at the Continental and had been a part of the underground before he officially left his…tribe, in search of freedom— some semblance of it at least. He had it now, and it was the best he could get.

He must make peace with it.

He stared at the asleep woman for a good minute before looking away. He needed to leave. He wanted to leave. He really wanted…

John sighed and leaned against the wall instead.

He would just watch, and observe. He would keep a distance. Like he should.

****

So, we are getting at creepy John, I don't want it to be too slow, but I also want it to be realistically paced. I don't know hat I'm doing, but I am doing it anyway.

#yandere john wick #john wick x reader #dark john wick #dark!john wick #soft! dark john wick #yandere john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick x you

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darkdemeter · 3 months

Text

THE CONVICT WOLF: A COURTESY CALL AWAY

The DARK DEMETER WRITING CATALOGUE, WANDA MAXIMOFF COLUMN #1 —

—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—

Wanda Maximoff x Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader

A/N — Yaaaay, first chapter for Convict is here. Yee!

WORD COUNT — 3.3k

READER DISCRETION — This series as a whole contains sensitive material that some readers may find triggering ; Profanity — depictions of blood, murder and violence — some angst — criminal reader — Hydra's return — mystery — I think that's it?

— NEXT COLUMN

SUMMARY — They say that the past catches up with you at one point or the next. You've always been as careful as your notorious reputation allows. It's not enough when your anonymous client seems to know you a little more for your own liking. And Wanda leaves a new message for their missing teammate.

And people still get in your way. And they get hurt. If that is the way things are to be, you won’t so much as blink the next time your actions cause catastrophe. New York, as you predicted, is awake in full swing and beset by panic.

Those who managed to escape the train cart unscathed by injury ran for safety. Your bounty had skill given their history with Hydra but that was it. They were of no match to bring you down. Didn’t mean they went lightly on you, quite the opposite in fact. But you can walk off bruises and torn flesh. They can’t walk off being dead.

Civilians scream to the high heavens in their frenzy of fear, a coop of sitting hens incapable of flying away from danger. All they can do is scream and run in terror. The chorus of sirens flood the streets and traffic becomes a multitude of blocked channels with no direct or clear way through.

With guns holstered it leaves you as a mere blur in the crowd, police unable to pin you down. At least, not yet. You never remain the unsuspected figure in the background for long, it’s just a matter of time and how far you can make it before the law makes a beeline for you. But right now, you have to get the hell out of dodge and fast. How they managed to track you down, you don’t know, all you know is that once you get that paycheck you’re out of here.

And that record hits a new score of just nine minutes and forty-three seconds when the first man hiding behind a badge orders you to stop in your tracks. When the threat of his fire aims at your back you return fire. Only you don’t afford him the luxury of a threat. Your quick draw is too fast for him to fully grasp the bullet wound now embedded in his chest, his partner catches his crashing weight before it drops to the pavement.

Innocent bystanders shriek in their response to the shock of such horrors. An officer of the law that protects them downed without so much as a sweat off your brow. And as much as you would love to entertain the silly men and women in their uniforms and act as if their bullets affect you on some greater level, you have other places to be and a reward to cash in on.

Like a phantom you’re gone in an instant once you get off the main street and cut through a few of the neighbouring alleyways. Police communicate the loss of suspect and begin to pull aside civilians to ask them about what occurred down in the subway.

Wanda makes it to the top of the subway stairs, green eyes scanning the panicked faces and whatever damage that followed the attack topside. Was this Hydra’s doing? Surely it had to be. Known for their devastation on the public without remorse, this could only be that. An attack by Hydra, gunning right for the Avengers and the innocents they swore to protect.

“Wanda,” a voice calls across the way and Natasha is quick to join her side. “Did you see what happened?”

“No. I only just got up here. I wasn’t able to board the train in time.” The two women search the sight before them. They cannot find what - or who - they're looking for. This bodes ill for the Avengers. Once again they feel trapped in the dark without a clue of light to illuminate them on the path.

They’re blind to the face of their enemy.

“What do we do, Nat?”

The woman next to her only sighs and shakes her head. Uncertain herself. She makes eye contact with America’s blue eyed hero who currently questions the police to no avail. He shakes his head at her. “I don’t know. All I do know is that someone cried wolf.”

The wounds didn’t carry infection which is a plus for you. Treating infected wounds proved to be a great bitch. Fuck that ex-Hydra experiment or wolf soldier, whatever they called themselves back in their service to the secret rogue division. You apply a large dose of alcohol to the wound across your toned stomach, skin and cloth bleached with the auburn coloured liquid.

“Son of a bitch…”

The TV catches your attention. It’s volume set to low to keep from interfering with your pounding headache. But the news crew - one amongst many reporting tonight - were talking about today’s incident.

The remote is swept up from its place on the coffee table and you raise the volume by a few increments. The woman’s voice on TV now a tad bit louder for you to really listen to her report.

“That’s right, Vivian, behind me the police continue their search for their prime suspect that they believe to be involved in the subway attack that took place in the Second Avenue Line, here in the borough of Manhattan.”

You huff with a roll of your eyes, focus back to applying pressure to the wound and cleaning it with the sting of alcohol. As if the news actually knew the story. They had outsider knowledge. A miniscule understanding - no, you wouldn’t even call it understanding. The humans knew nothing of the danger they were potentially in with an ex-Hydra specimen on the loose. Fuck the sob story and the going-straight path your bounty was going for, they were likely responsible of crimes just as horrendous as you.

You did New York a favour once again.

“Witnesses describe a shootout aboard the train at approximately 10:30 AM that progressed into a brawl between the two assailants. Although terrified, civilians who were there recount they saw what they can only describe to be ‘werewolves’. Police have yet to uncover the second person involved but key descriptions describe the first suspect, who was also witnessed shooting and killing a police officer, yet they are also to be apprehended. Both image and video footage has been posted all over social media but investigators scrape the evidence and this is what they found.”

You lift your eyes to watch this so-called evidence that New Yorkers managed to capture. So much for running for their lives, the views apparently are more important. And there it was, one of the credited sources of footage capturing two hulking masses of fur duking it out in the streets. The fight is of no small degree, of that you can be well assured. People got hurt in the process. Rammed into the side of a car, you suddenly grapple hold of your target and swing them at full force across the street and they crash into a street light that bursts with electricity.

And still they paint you as the criminal at the end of the day. It’s easier to point the finger and move on. You didn’t have enough time to really care about the tainted reputation you carry. It’s all you’ve ever known. No point in trying to go straight for you. The straightest you’ve ever gone is to get away from Hydra when they fell apart. But Hydra always had a way of getting their hands back on what was theirs, one way or another. However, you understood that you are a constant risk to the public. A danger. In your right opinion, all werewolves were.

You gather the length of bandages in your hands and prepare to wrap your wound when they address you on TV.

“It’s speculated that this is the work of the Convict Wolf. After five years of no known presence, they have resurfaced with this attack. Truly a ghost that resumes its haunting.”

Ah, there it is. The recognition. The staple of your criminal career. A name to the face.

“The community is in an uproar over this revelation. Chief, what can you say to address these allegations related to this criminal?” The reporter holds her microphone to the mouth of the police chief. He stands tall, a bushy moustache and a stone-cold glare in his dark, worn eyes.

“This convict has been nothing but trouble for the past few decades,” he begins, clearly he’s under some obligation to choose his words carefully. The entire world isn’t exactly ready to commit to the idea that werewolves were among the flock of sheep.

“And they have proven to be tricky to catch but mark my words, New York, they will be brought to justice. The Convict Wolf will not escape us forever and once they have been convicted of their crimes in the court of law, they will be punished like the dog they are.”

‘Aw, that’s inspiring.’

The law truly believes they can catch and hold you long enough to deal out your long overdue punishment. The witch hunt for your hide continues on even to this day in the modern times of New York. Some things never change.

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟔𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟖𝟖𝟖 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐫𝐤

These hunts were never going to change. That much you knew by now. If only you were sorry for what you were about to do. But there was no mercy in this world for the bounty. You tried to be nice about it but the bastard wasn’t making it easy. You’ve run out of patience. Getting tossed from one corner of the warehouse to the other like some ragdoll.

That isn’t going to fly with you. You stumble onto your two feet after being tossed some fourteen feet, give or take, and from the rafters above. Dust from the unswept, greyed out and rock solid tiles is kicked up into clouds, wafting higher up in a disturbed state.

The roof above is worse for wear, half of the tiling broken and missing only to leave a bare frame of wood. The light of the moon gives you a spotlight to work with despite your ability to see perfectly in the dark.

He’s perched high above, weight causing the beam he’s on to creak and groan with the threat to cave beneath him. He merely stares down at you as if you were something to be pitied. You don’t like that. You don’t like people looking at you with such an emotion. It twisted your gut in awful ways.

“Come on then!” you bark in your challenge, the metallic tinge of blood coating your tongue. You spit the heavy taste to the side. He meets your challenge and that was his last mistake. You shake your coat off just before the transformation has a change to rip the precious artefact of clothing you own. Your now longer and clawed limbs grab hold of his pouncing form before he has a chance to pin you down. Your long digits snap his jaws shut and you hoist yourself up to your hind legs, spinning him until his back faces you. It’s sort of poetic in a way.

For an appearance so savage and animalistic, you also retain a certain level of humanity in this form that it’s unnerving. Terrifying. Uncanny.

Your arms slide along his until you’ve got him at the join of his built elbows and one of your hind paws kicks him forward. He goes chest first into the protruding rod half broken on the rusted machine that once powered the now abandoned factory. It still serves some purpose after its intended use now scraped.

When his chest is penetrated is when you twist his limbs, pulling them as far back as you can. The crack of bone and tendons twisting, tearing under the mass of pressure you apply so easily.

He howls in pain until all of New York can hear him. A flutter of bird wings being chased off by the agonised howl echoes throughout the warehouse. Your head extends forward and your teeth sink into the nape of his neck and you cleanly snap the column in half just as you tear his arms from his torso and you give another shove into his back with your hind paw.

He goes still and his body weight slumps forward with a final sigh. You let his body drop against the rusty pole. The air is finally silent and you have a moment to yourself. No hunt, no law, no bullshit. Soon his body would change back, it was most common for the body to do so but there was the odd case where the identity of the body remained as just an animal.

That’s what your species was a whole. Animals.

“The noise came from here, Chief.”

“Halt right there– What in God’s name…”

The chief of police and his subordinates march into the warehouse, gas lit lanterns swinging haphazardly with their rushed movements to see to the noise complaint. All they saw in front of them were two animals. One dead and one alive. Alive and dangerous.

The large shape of your canid head slowly turns to the officers, eyes a powerful red to combat the light of their lanterns. They don’t give a single thought to the potential identity of a human beneath the reflective surface of your savage eyes and bared snarl.

They just see a mindless and bloodthirsty beast. “Shoot it! Kill it!”

You take no guilt for your conscience. They provoked you. There is no mercy for their actions. You weren’t sorry for doing what you did.

Leaping at them and tearing through the men of the law, of the badge, that stood no chance against the haze of your brutality. Their blood smeared and painted the dirt and sides of the warehouse in large splatters. Limbs were torn from sockets and flesh and bone alike was minced between your bloody jaws.

Monsters aren’t meant to feel anything for their quarry. That’s what the human race is to you. It’s how you perceive their weak, mortal bodies and primitive, closed off minds; as your prey. And only your prey.

Your phone buzzes with an unknown caller ID and you’re dragged out from the ravine of memory lane. You’ve an inkling of who it might be calling you. You pick up and put the phone to your ear. “It’s done. Now about my money…”

“Of course. It’s been transferred right now…” The distorted voice of the caller drawls ominously and you cannot help the sliver of suspicion that crosses your mind. The fee you asked for up front was still mysteriously ‘locked’ until the remainder of the money was funnelled into your encrypted account. You can see the loading bar of the transfer happen in real time on your opened laptop screen. Fifteen percent. Twenty percent.

“A hundred-fifty thousand, as promised.”

You scoff with eyes wide at the declared amount your client says was the agreed amount. “I thought I made myself clear it was two hundred-thousand.”

“We had to cut a few costs. Our revival of the project you serve isn’t cheap and we need that hush money.”

You scowl in response to this, brows furrowing hard until the deep bevel between them forms.

How could you be so blind for even a second? It was so obvious.

This was Hydra’s courtesy call to you.

“If you believe to have seen this criminal, police urge you to call them right away, and to be warned that the convict is still at large and most definitely armed. Civilians are also warned to not travel alone or without means to protect themselves.”

Tony switches the display off and casts down the remote in his hands before using them to comb his hair back. His eyes are troubled by the revelation that a new criminal, a new source of trouble, is in their midst. He’s read the files - they all have - but for some reason you have always been able to give everyone the slip.

“What in the actual hell went on out there?” Tony finally asks his team but none give an answer. Not right away. With a shrug of defeat he wanders over to the kitchen to fix himself a dose of something strong to combat his growing frustrations.

“We’re not sure, Tony,” Steve finally answers with a sideways glance, “the attack was so sudden and Wanda wasn’t able to track down the Hydra assassin.”

“I should have gone with her.” It’s Bucky who sighs and hangs his head back in his own defeat. “If I had been with Wanda, we could have stopped this. Hydra assassins can move around undetected, be unassuming until it’s too late to do anything.”

“It’s not your fault, Buck,” Steve says to assure his friend but Tony doesn’t let up. His lecture hall has only begun for his fellow Avengers. “So we have a Hydra resurgence group on our hands and now we have to worry about the Convict Wolf. When does this madness end, guys?”

“Tony,” Steve warns firmly, blue eyes landing on Wanda who sits quietly on the end of the couch. She’s been staring off into oblivion for the entirety of their sit down meeting. She’s unfocused in the world around her and trapped in the land of her own thoughts.

Steve calls to her once, then twice, but she remains unshaken from her mind. The sketch shown on the news was uncanny but it was the eyes that continue to spear so deeply into her mind, those eyes that burnt with rage. With hate. She could still feel the bothering heat of you against her skin and the growl of your tone perverted her ears and made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

She saw you board the train. The exact same train.

And now they are gone. Vanished into thin air. Wanda feels as though the world shuts down around her. Like her organs are slowly giving in with each breath coming in and out slower than the last. She presses a hand to her ear out of habit, to speak into the coms long since discarded when the mission was called in.

Wanda’s eyes scrunch closed and her chin wobbles slightly. Ever so slowly and painfully, that air grows tighter in her lungs until it can barely escape. She’s losing to this and it’s only been several hours. Where could they have gone?

She hopes to just hear their voice crackle over the coms that aren’t present in her ear any longer. Fuck, she hangs to hope like a life line. She just needs that confirmation that they’re ok. But she can’t hear their voice on the other end. There is no earpiece to bridge the gap of communication.

Natasha is the first to approach Wanda in order to assure her. “Wanda. Breathe for me, ok?” Natasha begins to lead Wanda into the exercise of breathing but it helps little. Wanda abruptly stands to her feet. “I have to go.”

Her form flees to the privacy of her room and Natasha decides it better to leave Wanda to grieve. She sighs heavily when her own eyes become coated in that warm sheen that blurs her vision. “We have to look for them. They’re out there and if we don’t find them, it will kill her.”

As the Avengers discuss their next course of action before Fury’s next - and importantly stated - briefing, Wanda takes hold of her phone. The lock screen is a sharp reminder that buries the knife only deeper into her heart. She’s growing desperate at this point, not even 24 hours later and she needs that voice of clarity. She clicks on the name at the top of her contact list.

It goes straight to voicemail.

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t get to your call. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you.” Beep!

“Hey… listen, uhm, I know you’re probably just hiding out somewhere and… I-I’m sorry if I sound worried I just– I can’t help but think you’re in danger. So please, when you hear this, c-call me back. Okay? Bye…”

Thank you for Reading! (◕ ᴥ x)

TREEHOUSE TAGLIST —

@alexawynters

#gn reader #male reader #female reader #treehouse taglist #the dark demeter writing catalogue #wanda x werewolf! reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #werewolf reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #marvel #wanda maximoff x werewolf reader series #angst #werewolf #wanda maximoff

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plussizefantasia · 7 months

Text

Cozy Corner

Flufftober Day 5: Book Shop

Loki Laufeyson x f!reader

Word Count: 1.0k

AN: I loved writing this one. I love Austen and you can absolutely tell haha. I feel like I probably should have said this before but I don't have a beta reader, any mistakes are my own. (if you want to be a beta reader for me let me know) Please reblog if you enjoyed it!

divider credit: @royallaesthetics

Your favorite part of living in New York was the fact that you could find pretty much any kind of store you could ever think of, and it would only be a short walk and a subway ride away. Take your favorite bookstore, Cozy Corner. The owner was an older woman who had introduced herself as Martha to you within the first few minutes of your first visit. Martha had been a librarian at an elementary school in Brooklyn for 45 years before she decided that she wanted to open her store.

You had stumbled upon this place by accident. You had been looking for a new store to buy books from when you had decided that the huge Barnes and Noble in the city was way too hard for you to navigate. So you went for a walk and decided to see if you could find a small one on your path.

You had, and it turned out to be one of the best things to happen to you since you moved into the city. You could spend hours of your day here, lounging in the plush chairs that sit by Martha’s front window, reading whatever new books she had gotten. She keeps bringing you mugs of coffee, and you're not exactly sure where they come from given that she doesn't sell coffee but you’re grateful for it anyway.

Your favorite way to spend your day had become reading at the store, and the other regular that you have seen come in increasing frequency is just a bonus. At least that is what you tell Martha when she asks you what you think of the handsome man who keeps smiling at you without ever saying anything.

He is nice to look at, you won’t deny that. He’s tall and lithe and has an aura of confidence and power that you can’t seem to forget. Martha tells you he’s a fan of the classics, that he’s bought a copy of every Hemingway that she has in stock and she’s sure that the two of you would get along. You don’t know if she just wants to matchmake or if she genuinely thinks the two of you would get along but you don’t have the heart to tell her that you don’t think it’ll work out.

He’s gorgeous and intimidating and everything you’d want in a man but is too afraid to go for. Luckily you don’t have to muster up the confidence to speak to him, he speaks to you first.

“Is this seat taken?” He asks gesturing to the only other plush chair in the store. It doesn’t exactly match the one that you’re sat in but it doesn’t take away from the ambiance in the room at all.

You’re taken aback by his request but still manage to nod your assent. He’s never stayed this long before. Usually, he just comes in and presses the stacks for an hour or so before making a purchase and smiling at you as he leaves. Today he seems inclined to sit and start his newest purchase right away.

“Loki,” he says and reaches his hand out for you to shake. You do and give him your name in response. You don’t try to continue the conversation beyond that, afraid to interrupt Loki’s reading. He however doesn’t seem to have any qualms with conversation.

“Haven’t you read that before?” He references the semi-battered copy of Pride and Prejudice in your hands. You’re stunned by his observational skills and you admit to yourself, also a little flattered.

“It’s my favorite Austen novel. I read it at least three times a year.” You admit, pulling the book closer to your chest. You move it closer to your heart.

“I’m partial to Persuasion myself but I enjoy all of Austen’s work,” he replies and fully closes and puts down his book. It’s a leatherbound copy of Crime and Punishment, you remember reading it for a college literature class and are excited to be able to talk to him about something else.

You don’t even realize how long the two of you are talking until Martha rounds the corner with a sheepish expression on her face.

“I hate to interrupt you two but it’s time to close.” You take a glance at the clock and are surprised at how late it’s gotten. But what catches your eye is the fact that technically the shop should’ve closed two hours ago.

‘Martha!” you exclaimed “Why on earth did you let us stay for so long?” You quickly stand and go to collect your things grabbing the book on the table in front of you without really looking. Loki moves to the same. Martha tuts at you, “I was going to, but I saw how wonderfully you two were getting along and I didn’t want to stop you.”

Your chest swells with affection for the older woman and you fondly shake your head at her. “Well next time feel free to interrupt, you don't have to stay open just for us.”

‘Next time?” Loki asks and you turn to him.

“Yeah, unless you don’t want to continue our riveting conversation on philosophy in fiction?” You ask teasingly but with an undercurrent of seriousness. You thought the conversation was going well but now you worry that maybe he didn’t think the same.

“I’d be delighted to.” He tells you “But I also believe that it is much past our dear Martha’s bedtime and we should postpone our discussion for at least a few hours.” He smirks and looks towards the woman. She takes the cue and goes to collect the rest of her belongings so that the three of you can leave and she can lock up the store behind you.

With your jacket on, ready to face the slight fall chill that permeates the late-night New York air you step out of the comfort of the store. You turn to Loki and wish him a good night before making your way down the street and towards your apartment.

It isn’t until you get back to your palace and unpack your bag that you realize you’ve grabbed the wrong book. You smile without meaning to, it seems you have another reason to see Loki again soon.

#plus size reader #plus size!reader #fanfic #fluff #x reader #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #loki imagine #loki x plus size reader

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milesmoralesweetgirl · 8 months

Text

𝑮𝑼𝑵 𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑳. 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮！𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: this is very jess and rory based, ooc miles, almost none.

living in a small town was hard, most of the time, everyone knew you as the ‘sweet’ and ‘pretty’ girl with big ambitions and good grades.

you met miles, and he was so different. he was new in town, living with his uncle since his mom sent him for his bad behavior.

the town was pretty much ‘miniature’ as he would say. ‘three fucking turns and i’m back at the center of the town.’ not your words, his.

you met miles at your local library, and you two clicked immediately. no one expected you, the sweetness of the town, the ambitious girl to hang with him.

him, the town’s punk, pulling stupid pranks and laughing by the tracks, him who’s always looking for fights.

but he understood you in a way almost nobody did and it infuriates you sometimes.

the way you both listen to the same music, read the same books, have the same eating habit, you both were smart.

the only difference was while you always tried hard in school, always got A’s, he didn’t try in the slightest, even if he was just as smart as you.

eventually it happened, he kissed you. and you remember every second of it, the way his pretty eyes would scan your face before kissing you.

right in his room, the way he would mutter up a pet name that he usually called you in that breathless voice, that little ‘sweet girl..’ before cupping your face and kissing you.

what you didn’t expect is, that he would leave for new york just after that night, one way train, tho new york wasn’t very far from the small town you lived in, it hurt, he didn’t even call, he didn’t even mention that he was going.

you remember the way he talked about new york, always being at the washington square park, and as you got down from the bus that drove you to school, you stayed in it.

you stayed, knowing that it goes to new york, skipping school won’t hurt if you do it once, right?

as you got off, the sudden realization of you being in a city you don’t know in the slightest baffled you, it’s not you to skip school like that.

and after alot of embarrassing questioning of the people about the directions you finally arrived at the park, and your breath got stuck in your throat when you saw him at the bench, reading, skipping school.

“hey, dodger.” I say softly as i sit beside him, looking at anything but him as i hear him scoff.

“and what do you think you’re doing here, young lady? You have school.” he says, his voice laced with sarcasm, i tried not to show how hurt i am as i gripped the end of my school uniform skirt.

“i’m sure they can survive without me for once..” he chuckles at that, looking at me so softly, just like he looked at me that night.

“i heard there’s a good record store just around here, wanna check it out?” i ask with a smile and he closes his book, standing up.

“full of surprises.” he mumbles and i giggle, walking beside him, we stopped at the hot dog stand, giggling as we stand at the stairs of the subway

“do they allow hot dogs on the subway?” I ask, actually worried and he scoffs

“you’re such an out-of-towner!” i chuckle as he pulls me towards the stairs.

and a few hours later it was time to go, he went with me to the bus stop as i got on it, i waved at him from the window and suddenly he indicated to me to open it.

miles finally asked the question that had burned against his lips the whole afternoon

𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑺 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑨𝑳𝑬𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑽!

“why did you come here?” she opened the window and cast a sad look down at me with her large 𝘨𝘶𝘯-𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘭 e/c eyes.

“because you didn’t say goodbye.” she said, what could i do?

“goodbye, sweet girl.”

#miles morales x reader #spiderman #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman x reader #miles molares #miles morales x you #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 1610 miles fluff #earth 1610 miles morales x reader

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screamdream3828 · 1 year

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Heyyyy!! Could you do a sam carpenter x fem reader where the reader has been taking pills that led her to having nightmares about the killings, and one night when her and sam are sleeping she had a nightmare where sam is the killer and tried to kill her, so the reader wakes up like all panicked and shaky and the sam wakes up because of the reader and sam comforts her? If not then it’s perfectly fine!!🫶🫶

Here it is! This was really fun to write, so I hope you enjoy

Warnings - angst, mentions of violence, death

It had been months since the attacks in New York which left you with a particularly painful scar in your upper chest, courtesy of your former roommate and who you thought was your friend - Quinn.

After the events of Woodsborough, your girlfriend Sam was adamant to move as far away as possible. It seemed an easy choice to follow her sister Tara, and friends Chad and Mindy to college in New York.

You reasoned such a big city would be safe, no one would dare attack in all the hustle and bustle. It turned out you were wrong, and couldn’t yet escape the horrors of your past.

One of the ghostface’s, you later find out was Quinn - had cornered you on the subway alongside Mindy where you both missed the first train.

The pain of the knife plunging into your chest had you seeing stars and wondering if maybe it was it that time, they had finally won.

But you woke up hours, or maybe even days later - you weren’t sure, in hospital. Sam was sitting by your side, looking relatively unscathed apart from a few flesh wounds.

You thought everything would go back to normal. The wound on your chest was particularly deep, apparently Quinn had decided to twist the knife - literally.

The doctor called you lucky to have survived without any further damage, but you felt far from lucky. After three weeks in hospital, and a nasty infection - you are finally cleared to go home.

Sam immediately begins to look for new places, secluded and far away. But Tara argues running away would incur the same problems.

You had agreed, surprising yourself too. Whoever wanted revenge, or some stupid motive like to complete a movie - would find you no matter what.

Instead, you compromised on a small hidden away apartment that the five of you shared. It was riddled with security, impressive home systems giving you some peace of mind.

Even returning to your new home, the pains weren’t decreasing. Four weeks after the attacks, you would still wake up gasping for breath, choking on your own salvia as Sam tried to firmly pat your back.

None of the treatments seemed to be working, and the pain was near unbearable. You became miserable and withdrawn, unable to cope with the new reality.

A new doctor finally suggested some new medication, not promising it would ease all pain. You were desperate to try though, ignoring his warnings of the varied side effects.

At first they worked. The pain became a dull ache, and you started to enjoy life again - resuming your job, teaching at a small school.

But then the nightmares started.

Initially, they were basic enough. Flashes to the subway. Trying to scream but not doing it quick enough before a blade is buried in your chest deep, to the hilt

You wake up screaming. Always loud enough to wake Sam, who meets you with equally terrified eyes as it takes her some time to realise you aren’t in any immediate danger.

Sometimes loud enough to wake the others, who suffer from their own fair share of nightmares too.

Other times the dreams are ... more creative. In one, Sam is alongside you on the subway. Things seem normal at first, and your mind tricks you that this is a regular day, perhaps a commute to work or a trip for lunch.

Then a flash of black and white appears, and before you can even react - your girlfriend is a bleeding mess on the floor.

Those become the worst dreams. The possibilities of what could still happen, rather than the memories of what did. You think that’s the worst of it, that things couldn’t top it.

Four nightmares in a night, you go to sleep shaking and anticipated: restlessly drifting off, in the safety of Sam’s tight arms.

The setting is familiar. Not New York this time, but Woodsborough. Although you expect a nightmare, it can still be hard to adjust to the feeling, to remember it isn’t real.

You’re all gathered in Amber’s house, scared but high on adrenaline as Sam tells Tara to find her inhaler before you leave - alongside her close work friend Richie, who you admittedly found a bit creepy.

Liv returns to the room, frantic and covered in blood. You wait for the moment, for Amber to produce her gun and the bullet flying so perfectly through the air - stunning the group.

It doesn’t happen.

Instead, your girlfriend produced a knife - gleaming, clearly shined for the occasion, and slits Liv’s throat with a gleeful look.

Your mind doesn’t comprehend it’s a dream, you don’t realise it’s fake. All you can think about is the look in Sam’s eyes as she plucks her next victim from the crowd and rains down blow after blow with that knife.

She’s covered in blood. Saturated in it. Staining her pretty skin and clothes. But that’s not the scariest part. It doesn’t even match the look in her eye as she turns to you.

You’re paralysed to the spot, unable to drag your eyes away despite the chaos and destruction behind you. The smell of blood, objectively isn’t real - but you can almost taste it in the air.

”Oh sweetheart” she croons in that soft voice that you love so, so much. You try to control your breathing as your chest racks painfully.

She takes another step towards you, mouth stretched into a wide grin. “Come on now” she tuts, patronising as she steps over her own sister’s body like it was nothing.

Her face is right near yours, and for a moment you wonder if she is going to kiss you. “Do you really think I ever loved you?”

The words catch in your chest and they hurt more than watching your girlfriend of four years brandish a knife as though it was an extension of her limbs.

You hear the blade before you feel it. The whoosh of metal gliding through the air, the slice as it cuts through your shirt as if it was nothing more than a sheet of paper.

The pain, although not real - feels very real. The burn in your chest is all too familiar and you scream, and scream and scream.

“Hey. Hey. It’s only me”

Your eyes snap open to see Sam staring down at you, concerned and soft as usual. But all you can think of is her standing above you, mocking words as she slashes your chest with laughter.

You know she isn’t a killer. That it’s only a dream. Your Sam would never even offend you with words. You tell yourself how much she loves you. How much you loves her.

Your body shakes violently, eyes flickering all across the dark room as you can’t meet her eyes. Tears stain your cheeks and your chest burns.

”I.... it was....” your voice wavers and you have to take deep breaths, which just dissolve into uncontrollable sobs. It’s worse than any of the other dreams, and you can’t calm down.

”Just breathe. I’m here” Sam rubs your back soothingly, and you force yourself to stay motionless. Sam would never hurt you. Never.

You gasp against her black tank top, staining the material with your tears. She lets you cry into her shoulder, rubbing firm circles across your t shirt. “Let it out baby” she encourages

You’re almost too scared to tell her about the nightmare. You know she still has problems in public with people believing she was the killer. Another reason to hate Ethan and Quinn, for spreading such lies about your girlfriend.

Realistically you cannot control your dreams. But you don’t want Sam to think you doubt her, that you’re scared of her.

So you just focus on trying to regulate your breathing, fingers curled into the soft fabric of her top as you clutch it tight.

Her scent is strong, like blackberries and whatever cheap shampoo she decides to buy for that week. It grounds you. A reminder that your Sam is not bad. Not evil.

You know she gets some sort of satisfaction from killing. You aren’t stupid either. There’s some weight behind biology in the nature vs nurture debate.

She’s even tried explaining it a few times. That she’d never intentionally harm anyone. That it just felt ... right.

You saw the look on her face as she stabbed and stabbed and stabbed Richie. Blood smearing her face as she cleaned the knife in a gesture you remember replicated in the first Stab movie.

He deserved it. You felt no pity towards him as you had hugged your girlfriend tight after she had finished, clutching your slashed arm Richie had given you, barely hours before.

Although you weren’t there for the final showdown in New York, Sam and Tara had given you the basics to what happened.

You had also heard the rumours surrounding the supposedly leaked autopsy for Detective Bailey. Around forty stab wounds.

It was Sam. And you didn’t need to ask her to know she killed Bailey. But again. He deserved it.

”Can you go back to sleep?” Sam kisses your cheek, and you bury yourself further into her arms.

”I can try” you add, voice scratchy. She nods, winds her arms around you tighter and doesn’t say a word.

Your relationship works so well because you both have a deep understanding of each other. You know Sam. Inside and out. You accept that dark part of her who enjoys to end the life of someone who threatened your family.

And she knew you just as well. She knew when you wanted to talk, or wanted silence.

This was enough, you realised - and started to fall into a restful sleep. Comforted by the knowledge that no matter what happened, Sam would never hurt you. Ever.

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #scream fic #scream requests #scream #scream 2022 #scream 2023 #angst #sam Carpenter x fem reader #scream 6 #scream 5

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