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#The hex clown x reader
hexagonalhavoc · 3 months
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The Anomaly (Sally Face and The Hex Crossover!)
Sado x Reader (a little bit of Sally Face x Reader)
[Author’s Note: So I’ve been hyper fixated on Sally Face again so I decided to do a crossover. Enjoy!
⚠️Warning for spiders, especially a spider crawling on the reader]
     “So what are we looking for?” Larry asks, kicking around whatever damaged objects were in his path. You hold the Gear Boy in your hands as Todd and Sally use their flashlights to guide your way. 
“I’m not exactly sure but I’ve had my eyes on this place for a while. Nockfell is weird but this house just feels out of place.” Todd picks up an old photo from off the floor but it’s too worn to see what the image contains. 
At first glance, Nockfell was just a shabby little town. There was nothing strange about it. But the abandoned mansion on top of a hill stuck out like a sore thumb. It was only a matter of time before the residence would become a spot worth investigating, especially since no one seemed to know the origins behind this place. Todd spent hours searching for something but it was in vain. 
This wasn’t your first time going ghost hunting. You and your friend group had been on many adventures. You had seen things that you shouldn’t have seen but even so, something about this place didn’t seem right. You never felt this apprehensive during a ghost hunt yet something drew you in closer. 
You grimace when you see a spider crawl out of a crack on the wall. You’ve never seen so many spiders in one place and that was saying something given how old and decrepit Addison Apartments was. They were everywhere and varied in size but were all a dark color.
You’re quick to assume that the strange sensation on your neck is just your mind playing tricks on you but it continues to descend down your to your shoulder where you see that the feeling was very real. A small yelp escapes your lips as you fumble to get the spider off of you. In your panic you move back and collide into Sally Face. Despite his shock he’s able to steady you with two hands on your shoulders. 
“So you can handle ghosts and demons but a tiny spider is where you draw the limit?” Larry moves closer to you guys and brushes the spider off of your shoulder. 
“At least they’re not afraid of glitter ponies.” Sally teases back, patting your shoulder before letting go of you. 
You continue walking, deciding to go a little farther ahead since you have the gear boy this time around. Amused glances are exchanged between you and Todd as the brothers begin to argue about their irrational fears. 
You had never really known what it felt like to be a part of such a close knit friend group until you started hanging out with Sally and the gang. You never felt left out and there was no petty drama. Your friends have helped you change for the better as ever since you started joining their paranormal adventures you had become braver. You can’t believe it’s already been years since you met them in high school. 
You look over at Sally who was playfully shoving Larry. When your eyes meet he flashes a peace sign your way until Larry shoves him back, causing your masked friend to almost fall. 
It’s hard not to stare at Sally. Even with his face obscured he was still very expressive with his body language. There was something charming about him that drew you in and made you feel comfortable. He was calm but he had the brightest personality of anyone you knew. 
But what would he see in you?
“I think we’ve explored all of the first floor.” Todd opens a few drawers, adding whatever he thinks is useful into his bag. 
“About time, this place is massive.” Larry points his flashlight towards the stairs. There’s a few holes but it seems steady. 
You think it’s strange that you guys haven’t seen anything by now. This mansion is too spooky not be housing some ghosts. Hopefully some paranormal activity will be found soon, it’s starting to get dark. 
“I’ll head up first since I have the gear boy.” You say as you approach the stairs, looking at which places you should avoid. 
“Are you sure?” Sally speeds his pace so he’s beside you. A strange feeling of foreboding washes over him. He knows that you’re strong but this is unknown territory. But maybe he’s just letting his feelings get the better of him. 
You smile at your friend. “I’ll be okay. The stairs don’t look too bad.” 
You take your first steps up with one hand on the railing just to be cautious. You made sure to avoid the holes.
“See? The stairs are fine, you just need to know where to step-!” The wood underneath your shoes creak before snapping. You don’t have time to shriek as you begin to fall through the first floor and into the cellar. 
Your friends try to reach for you but they’re too late. The only thing they can do is stare at the Y/n-shaped hole on the floor. You land with a harsh thud that causes them to wince. 
They can hear a quiet groan and they’re filled with relief. If you’re making a sound it means you’re alive. 
“Holy fuck! Are you alright!?” Larry calls out to you. He points his flashlights at the hole you fell in, he can see you but it wouldn’t be smart to drop down. 
You sit up, reaching your hand out for the gear boy. Even if it can’t do anything to help you in your predicament it feels better to have it with you. 
“I’m okay!” You call out. “I can’t tell for sure but I think I’m in some sort of wine cellar.” The light of the gear boy isn’t very bright but it reflects off of bottles that line the walls. 
“We’re going to find a way to get to you, just stay put.” 
You don’t want your friends to leave you alone here but you know it’s for the best. It wouldn’t be wise of them to fling themselves down the hole so hopefully they can find out where the cellar door is. It’s hard to believe that none of you saw it in your thorough search of the downstairs. 
The footsteps of your friends start to fade until you can’t hear them at all. They told you to stay put but maybe you could try to find the way out as well. You couldn’t just sit here as your friends do all the work. 
It’s dark but you move forward, keeping one arm outstretched so you don’t bump into anything. It started to feel less like a room and more like an endless void you were wandering in. The only thing reminding you that you weren’t lost in nothingness was the occasional crunch of glass beneath your shoes from broken wine bottles. 
A green light fills the room and you almost drop the gear boy in your alarm. You’ve used the device plenty of times but never alone like this before. 
You press the button on the gear boy and sparks shoot out from it. All of the ghosts you’ve seen materialize from flesh and bone as if the decomposition process was happening in reverse. You’ve never seen an apparition form from spiders skittering towards the center of the room. 
You take several steps back, screaming for your friends but there’s no sign of them. You’re going to be dealing with this entity alone.
It has a human shape but it’s too pale, its smile is too wide. You can’t identify the time period of this ghost by its clothing and there’s no wounds that would indicate a cause of death. You’ve never seen anything like it. 
“I was hoping it would be you.” 
“…What?” 
“It’s exactly what it sounds like. I knew you guys would find me eventually, especially with your fancy thingamajig but you were the one who caught my eye.” 
Is this ghost flirting with you? You stare at it silently with your brows furrowed. You were prepared for threats, prophecies of doom, or just casual conversation but definitely not flirtations.
Even if this is weird you have to remember why you and your friends came here in the first place.
“Can you tell me about yourself? Or maybe this place?” You decide to get straight to the point, especially since this ghost doesn’t seem to be going through any emotional turmoil and should be easy to talk to. 
“Right, how rude of me not to introduce myself.” She takes her hat off and bows dramatically. “I’m Sado, I was the ring leader of a traveling circus before my…permanent retirement.”
Out of all the ghosts you’ve seen, Sado doesn’t seem bothered by her death. She’s also being receptive to your questions. Most ghosts just say some cryptic things then disappear before they can give you answers. 
“What happened to cause your…uh-permanent retirement?” You shift around uncomfortably. You doubt that she’s going to take offense but it’s not a fun question to ask.
The apparition takes a step closer to you, leaning in just a little bit. “What I presumed happened to all the other ghosts you’ve talked to. Nockfell makes it hard to stay out of trouble, corruption finds you easily here and once it has its grip on you, you won’t want it any other way.” 
You’re taken aback. Sado is leaning closer, both of you just staring at each other for a moment. You can’t see a thing behind her eyes but she’s staring deep into your soul. 
“You seem nice, if I were you I would get out of here while you still have the chance. There are no happy endings in Nockfell.” 
There’s a warning behind her smile. Even with her laidback tone it seems like she genuinely cares for your safety. 
Sado was like you once. She was fun and outgoing, maybe even rambunctious at times. When she was human she went by a different name that she can’t even remember that anymore. 
The rest of the details start to get fuzzy but she knows that for the last few years of her life she wasn’t human. Something had gotten its hold on her but she was far too stubborn. In the end, she was the one possessing the entity that tried to control her. It may have corrupted her in the process but she had won the fought for control and now she was more powerful in death than she was in life.
Before you can question her a light fills the room and the spiders scatter back into the dark crevices of the cellar. You squint at the flashlight being aimed at your face. 
“Y/n! Are you hurt?” The moment you hear Sal’s voice you bolt towards it. If you weren’t as shocked from your ghost encounter, you might have cried tears of joy to see your friends again. 
“Yeah I’m fine, what took you guys so long?” Sally helps you climb up to the first floor and you let out a sigh of relief. Hopefully the worst is over for the day. 
“The door was hidden underneath a bunch of shit. We only found you because Sally Face had one of his freaky visions again.” You hand the gear boy back to Sally, wanting nothing to do with it for the meantime. 
“Did anything happen in the cellar? You look a shaken up.” Todd puts a hand on your shoulder and you nod. 
“There was a ghost down there but can we talk about it later? I want out of this place.” No one opposed to your question as it was starting to get late. It had been a tiring day and you being separated from the group gave everyone a fright. 
There would be time to ask questions but it was time to get out of that creepy place. Sado is the only thing you can think about on the ride home.
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germvity · 3 years
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RISES THE MOON
leon s kennedy x reader // 10 // proprietorial heart
(big word yay :))
leon feels a small wave of jealousy- which dissipates as soon as it swells as you yawn, stretching. "come on, let's go get ready for our next trial." he smiles, helping you stand. you nod in agreement, waving goodbye to the fireflies and fish as the two of you leave.
tags: jealous leon bc we love that, more jake content 😩, violence/attempted murder, blood, injury, hurt/comfort
tag list <3 - @hex-touchstarved @trinswhimsys
trials moved on at a medium pace, not too slow so everyone was anxiously itching for the next trial to get it out of the way; nor too fast so everyone had a nice relaxing break to massage out knots from muscles and heal open wounds.
nights like these were your favourite. sure, routine could be stressful (especially in a murder game) but the even breaks between being active, and the added love from your adoring partner, make you happy.
leon was sat back against the headboard, gently massaging your scalp as you lay between his legs, head resting on his chest. the myriad of crickets and a few crows nearby were soothing to you; feeling yourself dozing off. leon catches on, and nudges your uninjured shoulder to keep you awake. "c'mon, last trial of tonight. you gotta stay awake." he urges, pulling you from the tempting lull of sleep. you give a throaty whine, nuzzling into leon's chest with a tired huff.
"i know you're tired, but we've got to do this." leon gently pets your cheek, helping you open your eyes to look at him. "fiiiine..." you sigh dramatically, wrapping your arms around his middle so you could cuddle him whilst still using him as a pillow. "what item do you want?" your boyfriend asks, a gentle smile on his face. "wanna find something to bring back." you reply, eyes falling closed again.
"god damn, was looping legion that tiring?" leon teases and you let out a sarcastic laugh. "yes, it is. frank never gives up." you complain, remembering how you kept him in a mad tantrum at a single pallet and how he refused to leave you alone after. "he's been hanging around ghostface too much. he's becoming obsessed with single survivors each match." leon notes, mainly to himself. "not necessarily. while they do hang out, frank's ego is bigger than saturn. god forbid you hurt his precious feelings." you giggle.
leon laughs too, gently running his fingertips over the healing wound on your shoulder. hissing with pain, you nuzzle into leon for comfort automatically. "i'm sorry!" he rushes to help soothe your tenseness. "i didn't mean to hurt you..." you smile as leon pouts, gently rubbing your side and giving your head soft kisses. "no it's okay." you reply, rolling your bandaged shoulder with pain.
"i didn't mean to-..." he starts again, but you cut him off, "i know. you'd never hurt me." you smile, and he smiles back, giving you a single nod. "never." is the final thing he says before the two of you are pulled into a trial.
clown. you hated him. as grotesque and ruthless he is, a top pleaser for the entity, he's such a dick. you crouch next to a finished gen, staring past it at where he was patrolling the hook like it was his last ever duty. "what a prick." you mumble, and leon hums from his hiding spot behind a tree. "we need to get jake... nea's 99'ing the door that way, if you could use borrowed time i can-"
"wait, you want me to save him?" leon cuts off, and you nod. "yeah? i'm gonna take some heat off of you, if he snags me i have soul guard. it's just that i know he will try to tunnel jake and you have what it takes to save him." you reply, and leon huffs. "what if he goes for me?"
"i won't let that happen. now c'mon. once he's off the hook, i'll run behind, you run in front and nea can open the gate- we all get out. easy." you stand, moving out of your hiding spot. "wait! what if-?" leon doesn't even get to finish his sentence as you pelt a rock on the clown's direction, hitting his back. the man turns with a cough, locking eyes with you. "c'mon! i'm here, c'mon! let's party!" you yell, gesturing for him to come over- but he doesn't want to leave the hook.
"leon, c'mon. sneak around him." you whisper, approaching the scene with confidence. the killer watches you carefully, only he can decide when you get too close. leon follows up, running through the main building to get to jake a bit faster. "c'mon, gates not open. still time to tango." you grin, staying ready on the balls of your feet. hawk grunts, taking a swipe at you, and you easily dodge it, leading him away as best you can before he turns back. "hey! what's wrong, y'scared?" you yell.
you had to keep his attention, you promised leon you would. "hey! don't be such a fucking wimp and chase me!" your words are desperate, but it worked. he turns back to you with a look of anger, deforming his chipped face paint. "what'd you say, punk?" he wheezes, approaching you with speed. leon slowly eases out from hiding, and as he watches you run, runs to get jake.
you stay close, slamming a pallet down on the angered clown, vaulting over it and passed him. you sprint a little, thank god for lithe, and hear him take another swipe at you. you move in behind jake, ignoring the coughs and wheezes. you were so close, this plan was working. "nea will open the gate when she sees us. let's-."
you're cut off by a bottle shattering, pinky-purple clouds swirling around you. you cough, the substance burns your throat, it slows all three of you down tremendously, and you try to gasp for clean air. you yell as the clown's knife slices through your back, downing you instantly. "y/n!" leon turns, and you hiss as he picks you up. "go!" you yell, wiggling as best you can.
the rusty hook hurts as he slams you onto it, but you don't scream. you're past giving them that satisfaction. "heh. don't talk if you can't deliver." the clown coughs, and you roll your eyes. "someone's upset." you scoff, watching the auras of nea open the gate, and jake dashes through it. but leon... oh leon. ever the saviour, is running your way. "oh no..."
"what, you realising that yer' friends don't care? ha! nothings getting you outta this." the clown hacks up a laugh, and you shake your head as leon makes a beeline for you. "move it!" he barges the clown as hard as he can, making the hefty man stumble. "leon, wait- no!" you yell, but he's already grabbed you. "you little-!"
leon dodges a swipe of the man's knife, and it slices through your stomach. you whine, urging leon to leave. "not without you! i can't leave you now!" leon yells, he's behind the hook, ready to run the other way if the clown came at him. "the others will come soon, and-"
"leon. relax, breathe. it's okay. i'll see you at camp, but i need you to go." you huff, glancing behind you. "no! if i can time this right-!" leon is cut off as the clown goes for him again, he runs around, and another hit lands on you again. leon grabs you, this time he manages to pull you off, and that endurance is sweet. you stumble, crying out as another slash carves your back. "leon-! i can't, you have to go!" you protest, but he simply runs with you, holding your hand tightly. "come on! the gates close!"
leon yells for nea, knowing she can help without getting hit. "leon- leon, he's gonna throw-!" glass cracks and you cough on your words as you stumble through the thick smoke. "let's go, people!" nea yells, taking place behind you, and keeping her eyes on the clown, who was advancing quickly. jake was waiting anxiously by the exit of the hell of this map, and smiles upon seeing you. "you crazy bastards. you did it!" he grins as the clown stops at the gate.
throwing a tantrum, the killer walks away as you all leave, throwing a bottle halfheartedly in your general direction before the entity swallows him. "hey, let me see those cuts?" jake asks, and you hum, the blood loss making you feel woozy. fabric gently presses over your shoulder, bandaging it up as jake carefully wraps your wounds. "this might sting, but this one is deeper. we need to stop it from bleeding." the woodsman mumbles, and you nod, sitting on a log as he pours some styptic powder onto his palm. "bite my scarf if you need to." he adds on, handing the fabric to you, ignoring the blood that smears on it. "thank you." you reply, tone hushed.
leon stands nearby, the jealousy of someone else patching you up, someone else touching you- it was consuming him. the blonde couldn't just watch, but he swallows his pride and walks over instead, holding your hand tightly and glaring at jake over your shoulder. unbothered by the looks leon was giving him, he finishes bandaging your wound. "that covers the other one too. be more careful next time." he scolds jokingly, and nea laughs. "yeah, like that would help your ass. always being 'careful' aren't you?" she nudges jake, who sighs. "surviving is important, not just for me." he shrugs, standing up. "mhm, sure. c'mon, let's split i'm starving!" she groans, and you laugh. "nea, nice work out there. you did amazing." you praise, getting up from the log with leon's help, and she smiles at you sadly.
"i miss seeing you at camp." she kicks a few rocks idly, waving jake off before turning back to you. "i miss you too, maybe i'll stop by when i'm feeling confident." you shrug. "i'll hold you to that." she sniffles through a smile, swallowing her sadness and wiping her tears. "ugh. i hate crying." the rebel laughs, and you smile slightly, embracing her tightly. "i'll stop by soon. we can hang out then." you promise, locking your pinky with hers. "you better..!" nea laughs, tears still falling. you wipe them with your hand- trying not to smear blood on her.
"i'll see you then, nea. go eat, you need it." you smile, bidding her farewell. nea nods sadly, waving to leon before heading off in the direction of the campsite. with silence, you turn back to leon, who was standing right behind you. "hey... that whole trial was a mess, huh?" you joke, giving him a smile. "you could of died..." he sighs, and your smile turns sad. "i could die any trial. doesn't matter what happens." you shrug, explaining the sad reality of the world you all lived in.
"i know, but you could of died saving someone like jake..!" he replies, and you furrow you brows. "someone like jake..? jake's really nice, what do you mean 'someone like jake'?" you cross your arms and he sighs. "forget it..."
"hey, you're tired- and worried, you don't know what you're saying. c'mon, lets go back to our place and we can eat and get warm. it's freezing out here." you suggest, and leon hums grabbing your hand tightly. "let's go..." he mumbles, and you nod, pulling him along.
"what's up?" you ask, swallowing your food and putting your spoon down. "hm?" leon looks at you, pushing a spoonful of stew into his mouth. "you're pouting." you huff, observing him as he quickly swallows, shaking his head. "no-!" he chokes on poorly chewed meat, and you laugh at his dismay, gently patting his back. "'m not pouting!" he coughs, covering his mouth with his arm whilst he recovers.
"mhm. sure. i was watching you pout. tell me what's wrong?" you lean your shoulder against his, hoping contact will soothe him. "it's embarrassing!" he whines, and you smile. "noo, tell me." you laugh, leaning against him further. the blonde huffs, resting his head on yours. mumbling something into your hair, you nudge him. "leon, tell me." you smile, and he sighs, finishing his stew and putting the bowl down.
"don't make me force you." you tease, and he looks at you sceptically. "mhm.. i know your weak spots." you grin, putting your own bowl down and leaning over his lap. "uh... i don't..?" leon stammers nervously, breath hitching as your lips find his neck. "i uh... you- wait-!" leon writhes under you as your fingers attack his sides, tickling him affectively. "you tricked me!" he yelped, trying to scramble away as laughter fills the room.
"tell me what's wrong!" you demand, smiling wickedly as you don't let up on him. "please! i beg- haha! mercy!" leon wails, laughter growing as you slip your hands under his shirt. "tell me and i'll stop." you bargain, and leon caves. "okay! okay, i'll tell you! just stop!" he yells, tears of laughter filling his eyes as you finally let him go. you giggle at the state of him, cheeks red and eyes watery. to make up for it, you rub his sides gently, kissing his neck, jaw and cheeks. "i... god this is embarrassing but i was really jealous of jake..." leon finally admits, and you stop.
"jealous?" you smile, and he flushes red. "i told you!" he huffs, looking away. your hand finds his cheek, pulling him back to you so you could give him a soft kiss. "don't be jealous of jake. we were friendly before but it was nothing like that. i promise." leon deflates, sagging into you as he holds you. "i've never been that jealous before... i'm sorry."
"why are you apologising? it's good to tell me how you feel!" you scold, and leon sighs. "i shouldn't be jealous! he wasn't even flirting with you..." leon whines, and you chuckle, kissing his cheek a few times. "is it weird that i love that?" you ask, and leon hums. "what? my jealousy?" he huffs out a laugh, and you nod. "yeah.. no ones ever felt that way over me before. it's refreshing." you shrug, huddling closer. "i'm trying not to make a habit out of it..." leon huffs, kissing your neck lovingly.
you hum, combing your fingers through his hair lovingly. "i love you, y'know that?" leon smiles, and you giggle. "i know. i love you too." you reply, giving him a gentle, quick kiss. "let me check your bandages?" he sits up, pulling away. "sure, i should get some fresh ones on anyway." you roll your shoulder, letting leon unravel it. "poor baby... i wish i could take all this away..." he sighs, kissing above your injury. "no.. it's okay. it's not that bad." you breathe out, giving him a kiss. "turn around, let me see."
you hiss as leon cleans your wounds, huffing out a laugh. "might not be in trials for a while whilst this recovers." you huff, letting him pull fresh bandages over your shoulder. "can it really get that bad?" leon asks, and you nod. "depends. it's just because i've gone into so many trials in this condition. it's up to us whether or not we get worse, apparently. we need to perform to the best of our ability to avoid no trials." you explain, and leon huffs. "no trials. that doesn't sound that bad."
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dontcare77ghj · 3 years
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Breaking The Fourth Wall
Wanda x reader x Vision
Wanda awoke to an empty bed and sunlight blinding her.
"Look, we've all been there, right?" Wanda chuckled as she sat on a chair in Vision's dressing gown. "Letting our fear and anger get the best of us, intentionally expanding the borders of the false world we created." Wanda wondered.
Wanda let out a sigh as she laid in bed at the image of soldiers running in fear, and screaming invaded her mind before pulling the covers over her head.
"Mama, are you coming down soon?" Tommy asked as he and his siblings rushed into her bedroom.
"Mama, our game is freaking out!" Billy exclaimed.
"The systems keep changing!" Luna recalled.
"Is she asleep?" Tommy wondered after their mother stayed quiet.
"Mama's not sleeping, honey," Wanda announced. "She's just resting her eyes." She said from under the covers.
"Kids, what did I say about bothering your Mama?" Y/N asked as she entered the bedroom. "I told you that she's not feeling well."
"But, Mom, my head feels weird. It's, like, really noisy. I don't like it." Billy told Y/N.
"Resting her eyes," Wanda repeated as Y/N pulled Billy in for a hug.
"It's okay, sweetheart. C'mon, kids, Mama's not feeling well. Let's let her rest, and find you something for your head, Billy." Y/N said as she ushered the kids out of the room.
"I feel like an ass," Y/N admitted, sitting in the living room. "I want to take care of Wanda, I do, but at the moment, I'm the only functioning parent in this house. Wanda's bedbound, Vis is MIA, and I've got three kids to look after." Y/N sighed. "They don't need to see her like this. They don't."
"As punishment for my reckless evening, I plan on taking a quarantine-style staycation," Wanda said, back in her striped chair. "A whole day. To myself. That'll show me." She nodded.
Wanda pulled back the covers on her bed to reveal she was still in her Halloween costume, causing Wanda to sigh loudly.
"I got to it first!" Tommy grunted, struggling to pull a controller towards him.
"You always get to it first!" Billy complained, pulling back against his brother's grip.
"Boys." Y/N snapped, moving forward and taking the device out of their hands. "Today is not the day for petty arguments, okay? I have to take care of the three of you and your Mama today, alright. I'm severely under-caffeinated and exhausted, so please, for me, be civil until I've at least had a coffee."
"I'll keep them civil, Mom." Luna piped up from the couch.
"We'll be good, Mom." Billy nodded as Wanda stumbled down the stairs, dressed in one of Y/N's shirts and Vision's dressing gown.
The kids all turned to stare at Wanda in confusion as she blundered into the kitchen.
"Wanda?" Y/N asked as she followed after her wife. "Sweetheart, what are you doing?" She wondered, watching as Wanda gathered items for breakfast.
"Cereal." Wanda simply said as the milk on the counter glitched.
"Why didn't you just ask? I could've brought it to you." Y/N said as Wanda sniffed her cereal.
"Well, I'm up now, so it doesn't matter," Wanda said as the milk turned, a grainy black and white.
"Yeah, I'm not sure what that's about," Wanda commented about the milk. "It's probably just a case of the Mondays. Am I right?" She chuckled.
After the events of last night, SWORD had had to create a temporary base about eight miles outside of Westview.
"Lucky for us, she pumped the breaks." A woman commented as she and Hayward stared at the red energy field. 
"Yeah. I feel very lucky." Hayward chuckled. "What's happening with the broadcast?" He asked her.
"Dead air. The signal's gone." She informed him.
"Make sure the team has everything they need. We launch today." Hayward nodded.
"Yes, sir."
Back inside the Hex, Vision was just beginning to wake up. Though, to his surprise, he was not waking up in his bed at home. 
He was waking up on a field, a field where a circus had set itself up around him.
Vision stopped in confusion as clowns, mimes and other circus folk walked around him.
What happened last night? Vision wondered, watching the milling people.
And then suddenly, it hit him. The memories of the night before, the pain he felt before collapsing and blacking out.
"You're the new clown?" A man in a leotard demanded as he approached Vision. "At least you're already in makeup." He sighed. "You're late for rehearsal with the escape artist. Come on." The man said, gesturing his head to the left before walking away.
Vision stared after the man in confusion before turning in the direction he nodded.
There stood a dark-haired woman, wrapped in chains. A woman Vision remembered from last night.
"Yeah, I'm not great at this gig, I gotta be honest." She admitted with a sigh. "It doesn't really speak to my skill set. I put in for the bearded lady, but this alabaster complexion wasn't fooling anyone."
As Vision's memory became more comprehensible, he began to stare at the woman quite intensely.
"Can I help you, creeper?" The woman asked, raising a brow at Vision.
"You don't remember me from last night?" Vision asked, causing the woman's eyes to widen. "We locked eyes. There was an unspoken understanding."
"Um, hard pass." She said, pulling the chains from her body before she began to walk away.
"No, wait. Wait up!" Vision called, rushing after her. 
"Y/N, have you seen Vis?" Wanda asked, shoveling a spoonful of sugary snaps into her mouth.
"Not since last night," Y/N told her. "I haven't heard from him this morning. I'm worried about him."
"Hm." Wanda hummed before walking into the living room. "Have you seen your Dad?" She asked the kids.
"No." Tommy shook his head, engrossed in the video game before him.
"Do you wanna go look for him?" Billy asked, turning away from the game as Luna put her book down.
"Well, if he doesn't want to be here, there's nothing I can do about it." Wanda shrugged, grabbing the TV remote and changing the channel.
"Mama's kidding, guys," Y/N said, causing Wanda to snort. "Your Dad's just busy, that's all."
"Mama, what did Uncle Pietro mean about re-killing Dad?" Luna asked, biting her lower lip in worry.
"Actually, what did he mean, sweetheart?" Y/N asked, turning to her wife.
"He meant nothing." Wanda scoffed. "And don't believe a word that man said. He is not your uncle." She told the three children.
"Well, then, who is he?" Tommy wondered.
"Here's the thing, guys. I'm your Mama, and as such, you were counting on me to have all the answers, right?" Wanda asked, causing the kids to nod. "Well, I don't. I have no answers. Zip. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Niente." She laughed as the kids stared at her and their other mother worriedly. "I'm starting to believe that everything is meaningless. You're welcome to draw your own conclusions, but that's just where I'm at."
"Jesus fucking Christ." Y/N sighed, pressing her head into her hands.
"So maybe I went a little too dark there, but they'll be fine. Vision is made of Vibranium. And have you met my wife? The kids literally inherited tough skin."
"Okay, kids, why don't you go grab your jackets for me, okay?" Y/N asked, ushering the kids out of the living room as Wanda collapsed onto the couch. "Okay, we're going to give you some me-time. I'm taking the kids to the park, Wand."
"Are you serious?" Wanda asked, looking up at Y/N with wide eyes.
"Yes, you need a break," Y/N told her. "I don't know what last night was, and I certainly don't know what's going on this morning, but you need some time to yourself."
"I ever tell you that I love you?" Wanda asked, causing Y/N to smirk.
"Not this morning." She told her.
"I love you." Wanda sighed, leaning up to kiss Y/N as the kids re-entered the living room.
"I love you too," Y/N said as she pulled away. "Now, who's ready to go to the park?" Y/N clapped, turning to the kids, a convincing fake grin on her face.
"But who's going to stay and look after Mama?" Billy asked, looking at Wanda in concern.
"Guys, I'll be fine," Wanda promised. "Go. Have fun at the park." She shooed the four out the front door. 
When the door shut behind her family, Wanda was left alone.
And the silence of the house brought a smile to her face.
Wanda settled back into the couch, her bowl of cereal on her lap, as she turned her attention to the TV.
The TV wasn't able to hold her attention for long as her head snapped to the side to see a house plant glitching.
And then the fireplace changed.
A chair followed, and then the TV altered.
Wanda put her bowl of cereal on the table before she forced the living room to change back to its modern setting.
"I'm fine. I'm fine, I'm fine." Wanda chuckled. "I'm fine. I'm fine." She promised reassuringly. "I'm fine."
"Darcy made it through that last firewall all right," Jimmy reported. He and Monica had been driving all night, too afraid Wanda's Hex would catch them if they even slowed down.
"What'd she find?" Monica asked, glancing over at the man before turning back to the road.
"R and D reports. All on the same project. Code name, Cataract." Jimmy informed her. "Hayward wasn't decommissioning Vision. He was trying to bring him back online. And nothing worked until,"
"Wanda stole Vision's body." Monica nodded, the pieces beginning to fit together. 
"That's why he was so focused on tracking Vision inside the Hex." Jimmy realized.
"Hayward wants his sentient weapon back," Monica murmured.
"Someone has to tell Wanda," Jimmy said, causing Monica to nod. 
"Look. There they are." Monica grinned as she and Jimmy got closer to several cars and a large metal storage container.
She and Jimmy quickly got out of the car and made a beeline for a woman already walking their way.
"Major Goodner." Monica grinned.
"Captain Rambeau." The woman smiled.
"This is Agent Woo." Monica introduced as Jimmy reached a hand out.
"Nice to meet you." Major Goodner nodded, shaking Jimmy's hand firmly.
"Thank you so much for coming. My mother would appreciate your loyalty." Monica said, taking the Major's hand in her own.
"She's not the only one we're loyal to, Captain," Goodner told Monica. "Let me show you what we brought you." She said before leading the pair over to the tent. 
At Goodner's nod, a six-wheeled vehicle rolled out of the container.
"Did we get your specs right?" Goodner asked as Monica took several steps forward.
"She's perfect," Monica murmured, staring at the vehicle in awe.
"Hello, excuse me? You tried to help me." Vision said as he rushed after the dark-haired woman.
"Doubtful." She scoffed. "I'm notoriously self-involved." She said, continuing to walk away from Vision.
"No. No. No. Please, just hear me out." Vision begged, rushing in front of the woman, causing her to stop. "All right. I believe that you were a part of a team monitoring a supernatural anomaly. And now, well, you're in it." He said, causing the woman to sigh heavily.
"Fine. I'll go out with you, but I'm ordering the lobster." She said before attempting to walk away.
Vision let out a heavy sigh before a plan came to mind.
"Oh no, look! That mime! His tray is too heavy!" Vision gasped, causing the woman to spin and face said mime.
"Oh, your bad back!" She groaned before Vision pressed his hands to her temples. "Oh! Ooh, okay. Whoa!" Darcy gasped as the wall broke.
"Awake?" Vision asked, holding his hands out in case the woman toppled over
"Uh, yeah?"
"All right?" Vision confirmed.
"Ooh. Oh, hello, self. You know, part of me secretly wanted a guest spot on the show, but seriously? That sucked." Darcy admitted.
"Look, uh, what is your name? Your real name?" Vision demanded of her.
"Darcy Lewis." 
"Dr. Darcy Lewis." Vision sighed in relief. "I intercepted a communication regarding your work." He recalled.
"Hey, the lions just got off stage. You're up." A man in a leotard told the two, who promptly ignored him.
"Dr. Lewis, I have questions," Vision told her.
"I have answers." She nodded.
"Brilliant. I believe it's time we take our leave." Vision said, noting the leotard-clad man approaching them.
"You're right, but first, we need him," Darcy said, pointing to a man who was throwing knives at a board.
Throwing knives at a board with an abnormal accuracy rate.
"Him? Are you sure?" Vision wondered.
"Yes. Trust me, we need him. Awake." Darcy told him.
"Alright." Vision nodded before he and Darcy rushed over to the blonde man.
The man snapped around when the two approached, but before he could say a word, Vision pressed his hands to the man's temples and broke the wall.
"Oh, shit." The man grunted, dropping his knives to the ground. "I never wanted to be back in the circus." He sighed, rubbing his temples before looking up. "It's good to see you, Darcy. And you too, Vision."
"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Vision wondered, cocking his head to the side.
"You do. You tried to choke me out once." He nodded. "I'm also your father-in-law. Clint Barton." He announced.
"We can catch you up on the road," Darcy said, nodding over to a funnel cake truck.
"I said you two are up." The leotard man said, appearing behind Vision and Darcy.
"No, I'm so sorry. But the three of us have a prior engagement." Vision apologized.
"They're not going anywhere." The man said, grabbing Darcy's arm. 
But Darcy wasn't having any of it and quickly turned around and punched him in the face.
"Oh no!" Vision hissed.
"My nose!" The man cried from the ground as Darcy high-fived Clint.
"Sorry." Darcy shrugged as the three began to run towards the van.
"Come on."
"Excuse me!"
"Out of the way."
"Where do you think you're going? Get back here!" The leotard-clad man yelled before the three loaded themselves into the van.
"To your house, I assume?" Darcy asked as Clint searched the car for the keys.
"Dr. Lewis, my questions, are my children safe?" Vision demanded.
"That I don't know."
"Are my wife's safe?"
"I don't know."
"And who is that imposter Pietro?"
"Beats me."
"Ah-ha! Let's get moving." Clint cheered, having found the keys.
"Excellent." Vision grinned. As Clint started the car, there was a second that Vision allowed himself to relax in his chair before there was a pounding at the window that caused him to yell.
"Get out of there!" The man ordered.
"Sorry, can't hear you." Vision said apologetically.
"What?"
"Drive!" Vision exclaimed, turning towards Clint. "I'm so sorry. We were double-booked by the agents."
"You have to be on stage."
"Never again, pal," Clint yelled out his open window.
"Step on it, Clint!" Darcy shouted.
"What are you doing?"
"Can't hear you." 
"You get back here! I need you! We need you!" The leotard man yelled, but it was fruitless.
The van had left the campground and was speeding towards Wanda and Y/N.
Y/N let out a sigh as she reached Vision's voicemail once more.
"Vis, please call me back. I need to know that you're okay and that you're safe. I need you, Vis, I need you now. I'm with the kids at the park. Something's wrong with Wanda, and I couldn't let them see her like that. Please, just. Please, just call me back. I love you." Y/N said before turning her phone off and turning her gaze back to her playing children.
"Y/N?" 
At the call of her name, Y/N turned around to see Agnes approaching the bench she sat on. 
"I thought that was you, hon." Agnes grinned, taking a seat beside her.
"Agnes, hi." Y/N gave Agnes a weak smile. "Were you out on a walk?"
"No, not today, hon. I actually went to your house." Agnes admitted. "I talked Wanda out of cutting her own bangs before she mentioned you and the kids were here."
"God, I shouldn't have left her alone." Y/N sighed, pressing her face into her hands.
"No, you did the right thing. No need to make the kids see their mother like that." Agnes promised. "You look like you need a break, Y/N. Say, why don't you bring the kids over to my house?" Agnes suggested.
"Oh, Agnes, are you sure?"
"Of course! Ralph just finished renovating the rumpus room, and the kids can play down there with Senor Scratchy, and we have some adult conversation." She told you. 
"That sounds great, Agnes." Y/N sighed happily. "Give me a second to round up the kids, and we can get going." She said as she stood.
"I'll help." Agnes offered. "I'll bluster Aunty Agnes' house of fun so much they'll never want to leave."
While Y/N had been at the park with the kids, Wanda had been enjoying the quiet of the house.
She'd been able to turn off her brain as she ate her cereal and mindlessly watched the TV. 
When her bowl was finished, Wanda rose from the couch and made her way towards the kitchen.
But it was when she neared the kitchen it started again.
The kitchen table glitched, reverting in style.
The light fixture was next, and the curtains soon followed.
And then the wallpaper to peel upwards, and the walls glitched between walls and windows.
The stairs flared, and Wanda snapped around when she heard the stork which had reappeared. 
"I don't understand what's happening." Wanda sighed, staring blankly at a wall. "Why it's all falling apart and why I can't fix it." She elaborated. 
"Do you think maybe this is what you deserve?"
"What?" Wanda asked, staring across from her in confusion. "You're not supposed to talk."
At Agnes' house, Agnes brought out a tray of snacks into the living room, where the kids sat playing with Senor Scratchy. Y/N was sitting in the kitchen, clutching a mug in her hands like it was her lifeline.
"Sweets for the sweets!" Agnes cooed, placing the tray on the table. "Penny, for your thoughts?" She asked Billy, who was gently patting her rabbit.
"I like it here," Billy told the woman.
"Oh, good. Is it because Senor Scratchy is such a good listener?" Agnes wondered.
"No. It's because it's quiet." Billy said before looking up at the woman. "You're quiet, Agnes. On the inside." He told her.
"And your colors are brighter." Luna piped up. "Brighter than the rest of the towns." She added in a low murmur.
"Do you think our Mama is okay?" Tommy asked their neighbor.
"Oh, for sure!" Agnes assured him. "You don't have to worry about your mom. She can do anything. She's a supermom!" She promised with a chuckle.
"Ralph says I sugarcoat things, but you try telling a ten-year-old that their mother is cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs." Agnes shook her head with a sigh.
"Now, why don't you three go play in the basement while I talk with your Mom?" Agnes suggested.
The three kids gave her a nod before picking up Senor Scratchy and walking down the basement steps.
"How are you feeling now, hon?" Agnes asked as she re-entered the kitchen.
"Guilty, tired, like a crappy wife and mother." Y/N sighed, taking a long sip of her drink. 
"Oh, that's not true, hon. You're a great wife. And a fantastic mother." Agnes promised, standing across from Y/N at the island.
"I left my wife during her breakdown, I don't know where Vision is, and I'm pretty sure our kids are borderline traumatized from watching Wanda this morning." Y/N shook her head. 
"Oh, honey, I have seen trauma. Your kids are just fine." Agnes promised. "And you made the best decision you could in the moment. The kids didn't need to see their mother like that." 
"I know. But I'm just so tired," Y/N told her. "I'm so, so, tired." She yawned as her eyelids began to grow heavier and heavier by the second.
"We're all set, Captain." Major Goodner said as Monica was safely secured into her suit.
"Thank you." She nodded before turning back to the glowing red force field.
"Darcy's not here to give her stamp of approval," Jimmy said as he walked over to the woman.
"I know. Darcy's in there, and I'm gonna go get her out." Monica said, causing Jimmy to smile. "This is our last shot, Jimmy." She added before her helmet was secured.
"Godspeed, Captain." Jimmy nodded at her.
Monica returned the nod before taking a breath to steel herself and then walking over to the vehicle.
"How much faith do you have in this thing?" Jimmy asked Goodner.
"It's our most heavily-armored space rover. She's gonna sail right through. Unharmed." Goodner assured the man before pulling on her headset. "Capcom, check," Goodner asked after watching Monica strap herself in.
"Good, check," Monica said, clicking the vehicle on.
"On your order, Captain," Goodner told Monica.
"Moving out."
"Contact in five, four, three, two, one." Goodner counted down as the vehicle raced towards the Hex.
But instead of Monica cruising through the Hex on one, the vehicle simply crashed into the barrier.
"What happened to sailing right through?" Jimmy demanded.
"The density is matching her," Goodner said, brows furrowing in confusion.
"I'm close. It's gonna give!" Monica exclaimed as she tried to push through the boundary.
"The structural integrity is failing. It's disintegrating." Goodner said, reading from the screen.
"No, it's being rewritten." Jimmy realized before picking up a walkie-talkie. "Monica, get out of there! Do you copy, Monica? Get out of there!" Jimmy demanded as Monica struggled to pull herself out of the changing car.
Before the entire vehicle could change completely, Monica managed to burst her way out of the top. 
Tumbling to the ground below with a heavy thud.
"Get a medevac, now!" Jimmy yelled as he, and several of the soldiers, began to run towards Monica. 
As Monica rose to her feet, she had to watch in shock as the vehicle was spat out of the Hex and launched through the air.
"Watch out!" Jimmy yelled, causing the agents to halt in their tracks and narrowly avoid being hit by the car.
Monica stared at the wreck of what she thought to be her only way back into Westview in disappointment. She continued to stare at it before an idea came to her mind.
"No, no," Jimmy murmured, watching Monica turn to the Hex with new purpose.
"I can get through!" She promised, pulling her helmet off and throwing it to the ground.
"Monica! No!" Jimmy yelled as Monica sprinted towards the Hex until her hands met the barrier.
Monica couldn't remember the first time she crossed through the barrier.
And there was a part of her that was grateful for that small mercy, but she wished she was better prepared for the pain she felt now. 
As Monica forced her way through the barrier, memories of her past, moments she'd rather repress, began to resurface
It almost felt like she was breaking as Monica pushed her way further through the barrier. 
Monica was being torn apart, and it took everything in her to continue pushing and keep Geraldine at bay.
But finally, finally, Monica was able to dive onto the other side, into Westview.
But when Monica made it into Westview, something was different. Something had changed in her.
Monica could see the energy all around her.
But Monica didn't have time to dwell on what was happening to her.
She needed to get to Wanda.
"So, Wanda killed me?" Vision asked slowly. 
"Yes. But not because she wanted to. You asked her to do it." Clint clarified.
"Why would I have done that?" Vision wondered.
"To save half the universe," Clint told him, a frown appearing on his face at the memory.
"Did it work?"
"For a second, but Thanos, the bad guy, rewound time and killed you himself," Clint said.
"So in summation, I died, came back and died again." Vision nodded.
"Yeah, pretty much." Darcy piped up from the back of the truck.
"And both Wanda and Y/N had to watch. Both times." Clint added, slowing the car down to a stop.
"Oh man, another red light? We're in the sticks. This is overkill." Darcy groaned.
"I believe, I think that Wanda is creating these impediments to stop me returning home." Vision said, sitting in a chair outside the truck.
"Also, it never rains in Westview, right?" Darcy wondered, staring at the droplets on the windshield.
"Not unless Y/N is making it happen," Clint said as the light flicked green. 
The car's occupants let out a happy sigh, and the truck began to move once more before coming to a sudden halt.
Men in trucks had pulled up directly in front of their van and started working on the street lights, causing everyone to sigh heavily.
"I'm not amused." Vision shook his head.
"Great, just take your time, fellas." Darcy groaned, leaning back into her chair.
"So if I am to understand correctly, my original code dates back to an AI called JARVIS? But my corporeal form was born of Ultron's plan for global genocide?" Vision asked, seeking clarification.
"Yeah, it was a hell of a time." Clint shook his head.
"Then, what am I now?" Vision asked.
"You're Vision." Clint shrugged, causing Darcy to sigh.
"Look, I'm more of a STEM type of lady, so I thought Wanda just flipped a switch on your head and brought you back to life." She told him.
"But that doesn't explain why you can't leave the Hex." Clint cut in.
"But what I do know is that I've been watching the show for the past week, and the love you three have is real," Darcy told Vision with a genuine smile.
"It's always been real," Clint added. "I've always known it. I wasn't always there to see it, but I saw enough to know that you have always loved one another. That the three of you belong with together." He told his son-in-law.
Wanda had finally forced herself to get dressed and felt a lot better than she had earlier when she heard a call that ruined her day.
"Wanda? Wanda!" Monica yelled, forcing her way into Wanda's home.
"What are you doing?" Wanda gasped, staring at the woman in shock.
"Wanda,"
"How did you get in here?" Wanda asked, now looking the woman over in anger.
"Listen to me. This whole thing is about Vision." Monica started.
"Get out of my house," Wanda demanded, glaring at Monica with a fire in her eyes.
"Hayward was trying to bring him,"
"Don't talk to me about that! Don't talk about my family! I don't wanna hear about it!" Wanda snapped, using her magic to push Monica out of her house. "The drones, the missiles, Pietro?" Wanda demanded, holding Monica in the air for all the neighborhood to see.
"No, wait, Pietro, that wasn't us." Monica stammered.
"All you do is lie!" Wanda exclaimed before throwing Monica to the ground. 
But Monica did not crumple to the ground. Monica stopped her descent and stared up at Wanda with electric blue eyes.
"The only lies I've told are the ones you put in my mouth," Monica said, taking small steps closer to the witch.
"Careful what you say to me," Wanda warned, creating a ball of red energy by her side.
"Do it then. Take me out." Monica shrugged. "See, see? This is where you and Hayward differ. He's gonna burn Westview to the ground just to get what he wants. Don't let him make you the villain." Monica pleaded with her once friend.
"Maybe I already am." Wanda swallowed harshly.
"I'm not afraid of you, Wanda. I lost the person closest to me, too. I get being scared. I know that feeling. The worst thing I can think of has already happened to me, and I can't change it. I can't undo it. I can't control this pain anymore! And I don't think I want to because it's my truth." Monica admitted. "Wanda, you have to," 
"Young lady, I think you have overstayed your welcome," Agnes announced, appearing beside Wanda out of nowhere. "Poor Wanda has been through enough," Agnes said, putting an arm around Wanda.
"This doesn't concern you," Monica told Agnes. "Wanda,"
"Run along, dear." Agnes dismissed Monica, already pulling Wanda away from her.
"Wanda, you have to take it down," Monica begged as the two started to walk away.
"No." Wanda snapped, turning around fiercely. "Don't make me hurt you."
"All right."
"Okay, let's wrap it up."
"Fucking finally." Clint sighed as the road before them began to clear of workers.
Just as Clint began to drive again, he was forced to stop by a woman walking into the middle of the road with a sign.
"Oh, come on!" Clint snapped.
"Come on, kids," Darcy whined, watching as a large group of children began to cross the road.
"Kids?"
"What's next, puppies?"
"I had no idea how much Wanda had endured before coming to Westview. The same for Y/N. I've had no idea how much the three of us have been through. Though I can't remember it." Vision mused. "For me, it feels like it happened to someone else, you know? But for Wanda and for Y/N, it was mere weeks ago." He shook his head. "What am I doing here, sitting, talking to you when I should be with them. This is absurd. I need to get to my wives. I need to go home."
"You always stop for dogs, Lewis, and that's final," Clint said before Vision phased out of the top of the van.
Flying away from them.
"So we'll just meet you there, then?" Clint yelled.
"Was he always like this?" Darcy wondered.
"Oh, here. Would you care for a cup of tea, dear?" Agnes asked, leading Wanda into her home.
"Sure. Thank you, Agnes."
"Okay, sit down. Be right back with that." Agnes promised, sitting Wanda down on the couch.
Wanda let out a sigh as she was left alone in Agnes' living room. 
As Wanda looked around her friend's home, she noticed things.
Three plates with sandwiches on them, three glasses of chocolate milk, a coffee cup, and a locket Wanda knew belonged to Y/N.
"Agnes?"
"Hm?"
"Are Y/N and the kids here?" Wanda asked, picking the locket up and holding it between her fingers.
"Oh, yes. I found them at the park and invited them here." Agnes responded.
"Where are they then? Where are the kids and Y/N?"
"Oh, I think they went down to the basement," Agnes told her. 
Without a word, Wanda rose from the couch and walked towards the basement door.
"Boys? Luna? Y/N?" Wanda called, walking down the stairs and further into the basement.
Much to Wanda's surprise, when she rounded the corner, she saw a doorway covered in thick vines.
Wanda called her family's names into the doorway, and when no one responded, she continued to walk forward.
At the end of the hallway, she found a small room. It, too, was decorated with vines, along with strange symbols and other items of intrigue.
One that particularly caught her eye was a glowing book. 
Wanda would have moved closer to the book but was distracted by the sound of footsteps.
"Wanda, Wanda. You didn't think you were the only magical girl in town, did you?" Agnes wondered, now standing across from her with Senor Scratchy in her arms. 
As Wanda stared at Agnes in confusion, Agnes raised a hand and caused the door to slam shut in a purple glow. 
"The name's Agatha Harkness. Lovely to finally meet you, dear." Agnes, Agatha, grinned before her eyes flashed a vibrant purple.
And with that, Agnes entered Wanda's mind and showed her who she really was.
Taglist will be open throughout the entire series
@x-uglyprincess-x @imthedoctorlove @loveinnoya @unknownalien3388 @bindythedemon @summersimmerus @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve @natasharomanoffismywife @mcsteamy4ever @monxpeet @amywinehouseisgod-blog @milleniumloki @buckybarnesplumwhore @kennedywxlsh @drpepperobsessed @madamevirgo @superbsccissorsdeanexpert @itty-bitty-witch @essenceproxima @severusminerva @okkulta @mrscasnovak @niki-is-a-thing @sunshinepower17 @pinkninja200 @iflostreturntoflynnrider @simp4mcuwomen @blackfarrahfawcett @angelicl-y @bromieeeomieee @persie33 @ambria @1awesomemeash @montygator17 @runaway-mom-friend @gengen64 @tiny-freak @abitofeverythinggg @aimezvousbrahms
158 notes · View notes
asgardwinter · 3 years
Text
Just Drive
fictober day 04 | “Fine, I give up.”
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summary | Clowns, escape artists and an unplanned getaway. That’s not what you imagined was going to happen when you went to work for SWORD.
fandom | Marvel
pairing | Darcy Lewis x fem!reader
warnings | a small amount of curse words
word count | 480
author’s note | this straight forward fluff and funny (just like most others). blame my wandavision rewatch :)
🍁 fictober 2021 masterlist 🍁 Darcy Lewis masterlist 🍁
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Saying you didn’t like being inside the Hex was an understatement. The small amount of time you were under Wanda’s control could probably be included in the collection of your worst moments.
Though you thanked the opportunity of seeing your girlfriend punching the circus guy that grabbed your arm.
“Get back here!” He kept screaming on the ground as you, Darcy and Vision made your way to the funnel cake truck.
Since you got in first, you took the driver seat and just started to look for the keys when your girlfriend complained.
“You can’t be our escape driver! You’re too bad of a driver to take us from here.”
“I don’t think this is really the time to bring my deficient driving skills to light.”
“If she can just get us out of here I think it’s perfectly suitable.” Vision said, receiving an irritated glare from her. “I’ve got too many questions…”
“See?” You interrupted him. “He knows things.”
“To your house, I assume?” Darcy asked him like the previous discussion didn't even exist, just helping you to find the fucking keys.
They were nowhere to find. You were almost becoming a contortionist — with no flexibility at all — to see if they fell under the seat.
“Dr. Lewis, my questions.” Vision finally had the moment to ask while you were near freaking out. “Are my children safe?”
“That I don’t know.” Darcy barely turned to him to answer.
“Who’s that impostor Pietro?”
“Not a clue.” You got in the conversation.
Darcy let out an excited “A-ha!” when she found the keys. “Come on, I’m driving.”
“Darcy, just give me the keys.”
It wasn’t even necessary for her to answer, she was looking at you with that face that knew you knew it was better for her to drive but was too stubborn to back down now.
“Fine, I give up.” You mumbled giving your seat to her and bracing yourself at the spot in between her and Vision.
“Drive!” You startled when Vision screamed, too lost into the ridiculous discussion to even remember that you were in the middle of a getaway. “Just drive!”
Well, that was just the beginning of the weirdest escape on the planet. Maybe the Hex was really a separate thing.
The drive to get to the center of Westview took long, too long. But if you had to describe it simply you’d say “It was worth it”. The moment you blew the horn of the food truck was for sure in the collection of your best moments, right after crashing with Hayward.
“Have fun in prison.” Darcy said from the deepest places of her heart.
Both of you exchanged a high five that ended with your tangled fingers, somehow. You had time to appreciate the frown in the director’s face.
You only needed to get out of there before the paperwork found you.
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ps: now I have a taglist!
48 notes · View notes
sunflowergirl522 · 3 years
Text
That’s Peter Part 3
Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader
Summary: You’ve been able to hop realities your whole life, running away to your favorite one with your favorite people when the blip happens. You come back to visit Jimmy to find out everyone came back and then get some bad news. When you go to find your boyfriend Peter you find out that he’s been snatched into a different reality.
Warnings: Language, grief
Word Count: 1331
Masterlist Previous Part
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When you opened your eyes again and Wanda let everyone go back to what they were doing, Peter was gone. You had walked around the neighborhood as children and their families shuffled home trying to see if you could spot him in the crowd. You don’t even see him when you spot Wanda escorting her boys home or when you follow them hoping to be led to where Peter’s been staying. When you come up empty handed you decide to find somewhere to spend the night. Luckily there was an empty house up the block from Wanda’s.
In the morning you take another lap around the block before spying into the windows of Wanda’s house to see if Peter went home. All you see though are things seemingly glitching out which was weird but you brush it off as a problem for after you find Peter. That’s when an idea hits you that maybe he’ll be on the tv again at the SWORD headquarters. You teleport there just to find yourself still in the hex and in a circus? Wanda must have extended the barrier when she used her magic last night. You’ve gotta find Darcy.
You run through the circus trying to avoid any of the clowns to prevent anyone talking to you. You hear someone yelling at people you assume are running away and run immediately to the source. You make it in time to see Darcy and Vision run into a funnel cake truck.
“Darcy!” Vision seems to shut the door before either of them would be able to hear you. “Damn it, gotta be fast.” You crack your fingers and roll your neck before teleporting into the van just as they drive away. You cheer a bit once you’re inside causing the two of them to jump. But you can’t help it, teleporting into a moving vehicle is tough, you have to time it all perfectly and it’s just too much work. So getting inside before they moved was something worth cheering over in your book.
“Jesus Christ Y/n! What are you doing here? I thought you were trying to get Peter.”
“Who is this?”
“Oh, hi I’m Y/n.” You hold out your hand for him to shake.
“I’m-”
“Vision, I know, I’m a big fan of you and your wife.” You beam at him before turning to Darcy. “I was looking for Peter but he disappeared last night. I haven’t been able to find him since, thought I’d have luck locating him with some help from the show. But now I see what Wanda’s magic act was for last night.”
“Well, you’re just in time to help me answer all of Visions questions. Take it away man.”
“Are my children safe?”
“That I don’t know.”
“Oh, I just came from your house, they seemed fine.”
“Good, what about that imposter Pietro?”
“Y/n you wanna take this one?”
“Pietro is my boyfriend Peter. Long story short he technically is Pietro just from a different reality. He has the same powers and he had a twin but well, it was reversed there. She was the twin that died.”
“Okay. Who was I before Westview and what are the Avengers?” You let Darcy explain that to him and sit in silence picking at your nails, a nervous habit you’ve picked up. If Peter were here he’d grab you hands to stop you and place kisses to each finger tip while telling you to be nicer to yourself. But what if you couldn’t find Peter now? Where could he have gone? “So, Wanda killed me?” Vision's voice breaks you out of your thoughts.
“It’s not that simple, you asked her to do it.”
“Why would I have done that?”
“To save the universe, well half of it.”
“Did it work?”
“It did until the bad guy rewound time and killed you himself. There’s a few extra steps but to sum it up-”
“I came back and died again.”
“And she had to watch.” It’s quiet for a bit while Vision takes in the new information and you start to feel overwhelmed with the topic of death that seems to wrap around you. Your mind gets brought back to your dad and how he’s gone and suddenly it feels like the atmosphere in the truck is trying to suffocate you. 
“I gotta go.” You force out before teleporting back to Wanda’s street. Immediately you’re greeted with Wanda holding Monica up in the sky with her magic. Monica’s trying to tell Wanda that Pietro wasn’t them and you sigh. Of course everywhere you go there’s talk of him but you can’t find him. What else were you expecting this is just like when the two of you first met. You gasp as Monica has a superhero landing. Why didn’t she tell you that she had powers too?
“I lost the person closest to me too. The worst thing I can think of has already happened to me and I can’t change it. I can’t undo it. I can’t control this pain anymore. And I don’t think I want to, because it’s my truth.” Monica's words hit you like a truck and you start to tear up. You need to find Peter soon otherwise you might just lose your mind. All you want is to confide in him and have him tell you that it’s all gonna be okay. When one of Wanda’s neighbors takes her away you run up to Monica.
“Monica! What’re you doing here? Is Jimmy okay?”
“I had to tell Wanda about what Hayward has planned for Vision. Jimmy’s fine, he's with my guys. Did you get brought in with Darcy?”
“No I came in on my own, I was just with Darcy though. She’s fine, she’s with Vision right now coming here.”
“We’ve gotta get Wanda to listen to reason.”
“Yeah, okay let’s go.” The two of you follow behind the two women to the neighbors house. 
“Let’s split up and find a way in.” You nod at Monica and go one way around the house while she goes the other way. You don’t have any luck though and as you’re rounding a corner you spot Peter next to Monica.
“Snoopers gonna snoop.” Monica jumps and turns to look at him and before he can do anything with the hand he raised you show up in front of him and grab his wrist. His eyes go wide at you popping out of a portal in front of him and he seems to freeze in shock.
“Peter, what the hell are you wearing? It’s awful. And what is that, a puka shell necklace?” You reach out to touch it but he grabs your wrist to stop you.
“Don’t touch that sweetheart.” 
“Alright.” You shrug and rip your hand from his strong grip and bring it to your side. This is definitely not your Peter. “Just wondering though,” behind your back you create a small portal and stick your hand through it appearing beside Peter’s head, “what happens if I do this?” You rip the necklace off of his neck and bring your hand back to your body ready to defend yourself if need be.
“God what’s been going on?” Peter looks around him confused until he notices you in front of him for what seems to be the first time even though the two of you were just interacting. “Y/n? What are you doing here baby? It’s dangerous.”
“Yeah well, I’m saving your ass apparently. Must’ve been under some sort of mind control.”You dangle the necklace in front of him before tossing it to the side.
“How’d you know?” Monica steps up to be next to you rather than behind you.
“Peter would never wear a fucking puka shell necklace or hold my wrist that tight anywhere other than in bed.” You shrug at her and turn back to Peter. “Seriously though, what are you wearing? You look like a stoner frat guy babe.”
That’s Peter taglist: @ellaenchanted91​
Peter Taglist: @amourtentiaa​ @simpforquicksilver​ @quickparkers​ @loveyou3000-mcu​ @elaineygrace​
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citydreamgrls · 4 years
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how much have you had to drink?
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george weasley x fem!reader
words: 2,387
a/n: maybe I did use too many differing pov’s but it is what it is,, enjoy!! :)
warnings: none ( i think )
I had been the first, and only person to prank the twins back at Hogwarts. Everyone else in the school was too afraid of their tricks that it was easier to stay out of a never-ending war with them. But I'd always been up for a good challenge, even if it was a 5 year long one.
As usual the twins joined me at breakfast, ignoring Angelina who had been telling me about the upcoming halloween party, and sat either side of me.
“Morning boys,”
“y/n,” they acknowledged in unison, both reaching for toast.
“Sleep well?” I asked George.
“Oh yes, perfectly.” He said sarcastically, taking a large bite of food.
“Almost as if someone slipped us a sleeping potion.” Fred joined in on the other side of me.
“Well I had to test my homework on someone,” I admitted, unashamed of my great potion-making skills. “Anything else strange happen last night?” I asked innocently.
“Nope.” they said.
“You sure? Because I managed to get some very lovely pictures of you too sporting some very sweet hairstyles.” I waved the photos of their sleeping forms in their faces, the little red pigtails flashing before their eyes.
Oliver Wood, having caught onto the end of our conversation leant across the table to see what I had.
“So that’s why you too looked like that this morning, I was beginning to worry I’d started sleepwalking.. Or styling.” He laughed, earning a glare from the boys beside me.
“You know we will get you back y/n,” Fred warned, but his threat was empty.
“Oh come on, you boys always go easy on me.” I laughed, taking a sip of my juice and immediately spitting it back out. “Gross!”
“Oh do we?” George asked, barely looking up from his book to hex my plate into slugs.
-  
As much as the twins and I battled, they were still my best friends and I had spent pretty much my entire time at Hogwarts at their side. Unless Angelina pulled me away to gossip about whatever ‘exciting’ thing was coming up next.
This time it was the halloween party.
“I just don’t get why I have to dress up Lina, I'm already a witch. Can’t I go as myself?” I huffed, resting my legs on her lap as we sat in front of the fire.
“The Weasley’s won’t let anyone in who isn’t dressed up, it’s the rules.”
“Oh that’s easy, they’ll let me come regardless.” I laughed.
It was as if they appeared at the sound of their name, popping their heads over the back of the sofa. Both Angelina and I jumped out of our skin, immediately reaching up to hit them in retaliation.
“Hey, you guys will still let me come to the party saturday if I don’t dress up right?” I asked with an expectant smile.
“No costume,” Fred started
“No entry,” George finished. And then walked off to the dorms.
“Oi, but it’s me-”
“No exceptions,” They called back.
I fell back into the sofa, ignoring Angelina’s smug face as she started discussing costumes once again. Tossing up whether to go as a cat, or some sort of muggle character. Not that she really knew any, but she just wanted to impress one of the boys in the year above.
“Will you help me y/n?” she pleaded, to which I finally gave in. Knowing I didn’t have anything better to do.
-
Saturday morning rolled around and I still hadn’t sorted my own costume, but at least Angelina was happy with her Daphne costume that I’d helped organise.
Fred and George had slipped away early from dinner last night, claiming that they had to ‘finish up party plans’. But I felt uneasy, having swapped their ties for two slytherin ones and then locking them in the dorms until 2 minutes before classes started that morning.
Yes it made me late for Mcgonigall’s lesson too, but seeing them rush in wearing the wrong uniform and having to explain that it had just been mixed up somehow to their head of house was well worth it.
Still, they could be planning payback.
-
The party was starting in an hour, and everyone was in their dorms getting ready. Including about three more girls than were usually in mine and Angelina’s dorm, racing around with masks and lip liner and other parts of costumes.
I walked in to see a hat with bunny ears laying on my bed.
“It’s all I could find,” Angelina told me, as she passed by to grab her purple jacket. “Dunno if it’ll be enough though.”
“I’ll sort something out, thanks Lina!” I shouted after her as she raced to use the bathroom before anyone else slipped in.
My only thought at the time was clown makeup, but I didn’t have any white face paint, and never really enjoyed its feel as it was. So I took a red lipstick and some dark eyeshadow to draw diamonds round my eyes. With the bunny hat on I looked far from scary, but paired with the clown makeup and a dark lip, I at least looked creepy.
Angelina leant me some fishnet tights to wear with my black skirt and I threw on a zip hoodie I had stolen from one of them twins years ago. I couldn’t remember which one if I was being honest.
-
Oliver and I had been sharing a bottle of vodka I'd brought with me from home, knowing it got everyone drunk quicker than wizard booze. Without realising it, an hour had passed, and I was yet to see either of the twins.
“You seen Fred or George tonight?” I asked the boy beside me, who was enjoying his stress-free evening.
“Yeah, Fred is dressed as a fighter pilot and I think I saw George in some kind of lab coat… or maybe it was a doctor?” He laughed to himself.
I headed up to their dorm room to see if they were there, and sure enough I just avoided a head on collision as they walked out.
“Whoa, nearly lost me there!” I screamed, stumbling back with a laugh. “What are you guys doing up here,”
“Nothing,” George spoke quickly.
“How much did you drink, y/n” Fred asked, helping me down the stone steps until we made it safely to the common room.
“Not loads, hey that’s not right.” I frowned at the boy holding me steady.  “Oliver said you were dressed as a Pilot Fred, not George.”
“I am George!” The boy, with the aviator sunglasses on, teased. “You’re as bad as mum honestly.”
“Yeah, at least our costumes are legit!” the other teased, flopping the bunny ear that had fallen over one eye away.
“Do you like it?” I spun round, the skirt bouncing around I did.
“It’s an interesting combination,”
“Well you haven’t kicked me out… yet.”
-
Unbeknownst to y/n’s knowledge, the twins continued to confuse her. Constantly running off to swap costumes, and mess with their friend further. Although it kind of backfired, as the more she drank, the less she trusted herself to tell them apart and gave up altogether. In the end they went back to their original costumes, Fred as the Pilot and George the bloody doctor. They both decided to tell y/n the next morning, when she could at least have a chance of understanding.
-
Everyone else was in bed, except for the twins and I who sat up singing by the fire and sharing the last bottle of gin that I could find in my stash.
“I’m gonna have to stock up my stash at christmas,” I laughed as the last swig was taken and we fell into each other's shoulders. I slumped between them, laughing at the memory of Ron and Hermione’s perfect dance routine to livin’ la vida loca earlier that night.
I felt a lump in my jacket pocket and remembered that’s where I’d left my cigarettes since being at home. I stood up, startling the boys and declared what I was leaving to do.
“I’m off for a smoke, see you in a bit.” They shook awake.
“Wait y/n, you can’t smoke here rememb- oh god she’s gone.”
“Well go on then George, stop her!” Fred grumbled to his brother, having already drifted back off to sleep.
-
George ran down the staircase, being careful not to make too much noise as his doctor’s coat flew behind him. He had only been a few seconds behind y/n, how could she have disappeared already? Still, he headed for the black lake, knowing that was her favourite spot to go when she wanted to be alone. He had watched her there many times, far away enough that she had never spotted him though.
“Y/n!” He whisper-shouted, running down the bank towards her. She was already sat down, the lighter in one hand and a cigarette balanced between her lips.
“What are you doing Fred?” she asked, mistaking him for the other twin.
“Oh about th-”
“At least it’s you and not George,”
The boy felt hurt by her words, always having looked after her without her knowing. Most of the time the lack of retaliation from the twins in their prank war was because George would sabotage it. He always felt guilty playing tricks on y/n.
“Why’s that?” He asked, playing along with what she believed to find out the truth.
The girl lit her cigarette regardless of his warning, and puffed out a breath of smoke offering it to the boy beside her who reluctantly agreed. Knowing that if his mother could see him now, she would have a heart attack.
“I always embarrass myself in front of George,” y/n admitted. “Whether it’s being drunk, or making stupid jokes. I just look like an idiot when I’m around him.”
“I don’t think you do,”
“I can’t help it though, it’s different with you. You’re like a brother to me Fred.”
“Actually y/n-” George started, wanting to come clean, but she kept going.
“But George, he’s just more than that you know. He always cares for me and makes sure I’m safe, hell he thinks I don’t notice when he watches me sulk down here.” She laughed lightly to herself, leaning to rest on the boy beside her. “I was so sure I knew him better than anyone else, but obviously not.” Her shoulders dropped in despair.
“Why’s that?”
“He probably just sees me as a friend right? I mean, I couldn’t even tell you two apart tonight, I thought you were him.” She scoffed.
George swallowed, knowing that him admitting to their prank would most likely cause some backlash from the girl. But he bit the bullet.
“I am George.”
Her body froze.
“Don’t joke.” She said flatly.
“I’m not, honestly. It was just supposed to confuse you earlier but I am George.”
Y/n stood up, dropping her cigarette into the water and headed up the hill towards the courtyard. George ran after her again.
“Please y/n wait!” He called out, grabbing her hand to stop her. She spun around, tears running down her face. “Oh god i’m so sorry, I didn’t realise you thought I was him, I just came to check on you.”
“I’m such an idiot god.” she huffed, trying to drag herself away but he wouldn’t let go. “I can’t even tell it’s you when you’re right here,”
“Yes you could y/n, that’s the whole point.”
“Still I just told you how I feel about you, with no intention of actually telling you, yet here we are with you being kind and nice and perfect and I’m just embarrassing myself once again.”
George followed her into the hallway and up the stairs, not wanting to call out until they were clear of the earshot of others. He managed to stop her just before the common room, pulling her aside into a secluded corner.
“Y/n, darling..” she had never heard him call anyone that seriously until now, and she couldn’t help but feel special because of that. “I have never seen you as an idiot, and you have never embarrassed yourself in front of me. In fact, I’ve always thought you were the perfect one.”
“Then why are you only telling me this now?” The girl asked him.
“I always thought you liked Oliver,”
“Wood?” she laughed and he hadn’t heard a sound better “God, he’s way too intense. Even tonight he wanted to talk game strategies with me, it was so boring.”
“Well that’s a relief.”
“So… you’ve always liked me?” She teased him slightly, playing with the seam of his costume. George just rolled his eyes and held her face, making her look up at him. Of course she had stood next to him before, but it was only in this moment that she felt the sheer height gap between them.
He leant down and kissed her lips, still clutching her face as her hands dropped from his coat in shock. He was soft and sincere, holding her as if he’d longed to do so for quite some time. Y/n smiled against George’s lips, making the boy blush to himself and thank Merlin that she couldn’t see him do it.
They broke away after what felt like nowhere near long enough, y/n rested her head into his chest and sighed happily.
“We should get to bed, it’s late.” George whispered and she nodded. “You tired?” y/n nodded again. “Okay darling let’s go.” He took her waist and lifted her off the ground, letting her wrap her legs around him and nestle into his neck.
He passed Fred who was slipping into unconsciousness on the common room sofa.
“Night Fred,” they called to him, and he just groaned back.
“Don’t worry, we can tell him in the morning.”
“George,” the girl in his arms groaned.
“Yesss..”
“Can I stay with you tonight?”
“Of course darling,” George said softly and took the girl up to his dorm so she could sleep comfortably in his arms, her little head tucked between him and the bed. He laughed at the bunny hat discarded on the chair, remembering how sweet she’d looked in it.
Even as a creepy clown George had wanted to kiss her.
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reidandweep · 3 years
Text
Riddikulus
Draco Malfoy x Gender Neutral Reader
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A/N- In no way do I support JK Rowling and her views. This work is all about the characters created by their true author, Daniel Radcliffe. I do not also dismiss the actions of Draco’s character. My imagine of Draco will always be a different interpretation.
Word Count- 5011 words
Warnings- Mentions of death, drowning, angst, mentions of animal hearts, and fluff.
Defence Against the Dark Arts had never been a strong point of Y/N’s. Even more so now that they had gotten used to having a new teacher every year. It seemed being in the same year as Harry Potter caused staff to come and go for many particular dark and sinister reasons. They were glad that Lockhart was no longer teaching, as his ways of education was rather, in the nicest phrase, absolutely shit. So far, Professor Lupin had done more for the children in teaching the subject, than both Professor Quirrell and Lockhart did combined. Y/N was truly hoping that Lupin was a permanent fixture to the position.
While Lupin prepared the class for each lesson, nothing could prepare the students for having to deal with the Boggart.
“Can anyone tell us what a boggart looks like?”
Y/N looked around at the classmates near them, instantly noticing Hermione’s hand shoot into the air.
“No one knows. Boggarts are shapeshifters. They take the shape of whatever the person fears most. That’s what makes it so…”
“Terrifying, yes. Luckily, a very simple charm exists to repel a Boggart. Let's practice it now, shall we? Without wands, please... Riddikulus!”
Y/N joined their classmates in repeating the incantation.
“This class is ridiculous.”
Turning at the sound of the snide comment, Y/N locked eyes with Draco Malfoy. In Y/N’s world, Draco was a mere speck in the distance, and that greatly offended Draco. No matter how much he called them a mudblood or caught them in the corridors with his cronies behind him, as they teased the young wizard/witch, Y/N all but let the worlds roll off their back; like water on a duck. Draco wished, just once, that what he and his friends said affected them, but yet it never did, and that pissed Draco off to know end. Not because his words did not hurt them. But because he wished that he could affect them just as much as they affected him.
Draco hated to admit it, but Y/N was a constant thought in his mind. They had made home in his soul and his heart long ago, and yet, he meant nothing to them. Draco often watched them from afar. He admired how they interacted with anyone and everyone. Draco craved that kind of attention. He craved the good mornings and hellos that others around him were graced to from Y/N. He wished that he had never called them horrible names. That maybe if he never, had, they would have been friends. Or even something more. But Draco was a teenage boy, and even though he was a wizard, he still dealt with his feelings the same way most teenage boys do… he hid them.
Y/N simply looked Draco up and down as he sneered towards them. Quirking an eyebrow at the boy’s useless act to cause her fear, Y/N watched as the look on Draco’s face faltered and was replaced by a look they could only describe as nervousness. The longer they stared at Draco, the more nervous the boy became. So much so, his cheeks began to turn red. But it wasn’t nervousness Draco felt. It was embarrassment. Because the longer Y/N looked at him, the more he felt himself fall.
“Good. So much for the easy part. You see, the incantation alone is not enough. What really finishes a Boggart off is... laughter. You need to force it to assume a shape you find truly amusing. Neville, come up here, will you?”
Y/N pulled their gaze from Draco, as the class laughed at the conversation between Lupin and Neville. They watched as Neville nervously stepped forward. Leaning to try and hear what Professor Lupin whispered to the boy, Y/N watched as the wardrobe began to shake.
Lupin stepped to the side.
“Right then. Wands at the ready. One. Two. Three!”
Sparks shot from Professor Lupin’s wand. As they hit the doorknob, the wardrobe instantly opened to show a figure of Professor Snape crawling out. Y/N was surprised. They never really knew how terrifying Neville had found Snape. It must have been greatly if he feared him more than the woman who tortured his parents.
As Snape walked closer to Neville, they saw the boy falter with his wand.
“Come on Nev!”
Neville quickly glanced back at his friend. Y/N motioned their hand in the form of the incantation. Neville quickly looked back at Snape as he approached.
“Riddikulus!”
Suddenly, the figure of Snape transformed, as the man’s usual clothing was replaced with the ugliest outfit any of the students had ever seen. Instant laughter erupted around the room. Y/N covered their mouth as the laughter tumbled from their lips.
From behind them, Y/N heard Draco and his cronies grumble in annoyance. Rolling their eyes, the young wizard/witch chose to ignore them and instead focus on the hilarious figure in front.
As the class continue to laugh, Professor Lupin walked forward towards the gramophone. Placing the needle down, loud music filled the room, as the students looked at the teacher.
Spinning around, Professor Lupin pointed at Ron Weasley.
“Ron! Forward!”
The Gryffindor did as Lupin instructed; shakily stepping forward. The class watched in eager anticipation as the horrifically dressed Professor Snape’s figure twisted and twirled in the air. The mass of magic soon transformed into the largest spider any of them had ever seen. Shrieks could be heard from some of the students, as Ron quivered in his shoes. Y/N couldn’t help but look on fascinated at the sheer size of the creature.
Lupin quickly set Ron in a secure stance, tapping the boy on the shoulders. Y/N watched as Ron successfully produced the spell, causing the giant spider’s leg to be placed in roller skates.
Once again, the class erupted into laughter once more; with even the Slytherin’s letting out a chuckle or two. Y/N couldn’t help but glance at Draco, seeing the platinum haired boy quickly wipe the smile off his face at the turn of her gaze.
“Alright everyone! Line up and remember, to keep laughing.”
Y/N eagerly lined up behind their classmates. Placed behind Dean Thomas, they looked around the tall boy to see what everyone was facing.
“Ready to face your fear, Y/L/N? Bet it is something ugly and grotesque, like yourself!”
Y/N glanced behind them to see Malfoy and his followers laughing at his jibe.
A look of indifference fell on Y/N’s face.
“I’ve had to deal with you for the past three years Malfoy. I’m sure whatever it is won’t be as horrid.”
Malfoy’s smirk dropped as he heard the students around him laugh at Y/N’s rebuttal.
Y/N turned back to see that they were up next, watching as Dean turned the giant cobra before him into a helium balloon version of itself. They couldn’t help but giggle at the silly creature.
High fiving Dean as he walked past, Y/N stepped forward and waited for the Boggart to take whatever form it wished.
Y/N wasn’t sure what to expect when the Boggart began to morph. They found many things frightening like heights or clowns. Even birds creeped them out. But what they weren’t prepared for was to see a hooded figure crying next to a hospital bed.
The class ceased their laughter as confusion fell amongst the students.
It wasn’t clear what was in the bed as the cover was draped over the figure completely. A loud continuous beep erupted from the machine next to the bed. Whatever, or whomever was lying there was dying.
Y/N stood still in their tracks as the figure next to the bed let out a heart-breaking sob. The cries grew louder and louder; filling the room.
Just as Y/N drew their wand to cast the incantation, the hooded figure lifted their head, and whipped their gaze to Y/N’s.
The words caught in their throat as Y/N looked into the eyes of themselves.
Draco pushed himself off the wall and walked closer to where Y/N stood, his worry for them coming to the surface.
Y/N couldn’t pull their eyes away from the boggart, feeling like they were relieving the worst day of their life all over again.
Professor Lupin soon realised that the boggart wasn’t being changed. Ready to step forward and take over, he was stopped by the young student walking towards the boggart and stood on the other side of the bed.
The class watched in bated breath, unsure of what was going to happen.
Suddenly, Y/N looked towards themself. Looking into their own grief-stricken eyes, they watched as the figure stood up and walked toward the life support.
“No don’t do that! Don’t turn it off!”
Before they could reach their own figure, the boggart turned off the life support. Y/N looked on in shock. Quickly turning their gaze down to their bed, Y/N saw the rise and fall of the sheet covered body stop.
Slowly, Y/N turned to face the boggart version of themselves, and before anyone could step in muttered the incantation.
“Reducto.”
Students shielded their eyes as the boggart disintegrated. Like I divine presence was in control, the record playing screeched to a halt and silence befell upon the class.
“I think that is all for today. You may leave, except for you Y/N. Can you stay for a moment?”
The class began to disperse out of the room, throwing confused and worried glances towards Y/N, who still stood staring at where the boggart once stood.
Draco stood still in his spot, contemplating whether to approach them or not. Before he could do so, Draco watched as Professor Lupin slowly and carefully escorted Y/N up into his office, closing the door behind them.
“Oi Draco, Crabbe and I are going to hex some first years before dinner. You coming?”
Draco tore his gaze from where Lupin escorted Y/N. Facing Goyle, Draco moved to step out of the classroom following the stupid Slytherin.
Y/N stood still in Lupin’s office, as though in a trance.
Lupin carefully walked around the student, moving objects around to make the room more spacious. He could tell that what had occurred was more than just a boggart.
“Would you like to discuss what happened?”
Y/N broke out of their daze and stared at the professor.
“There’s nothing to discuss Professor. I saw the boggart and failed to use the correct incantation. So, I apologise.”
Lupin shook his head at the person’s dismissal of the traumatic event that had just occurred. Moving to lean against the desk, Lupin took in the stoic nature of how Y/N stood. It was more than clear that what had happened was truly affecting them.
“What happened is nothing for you to apologise for. I am the one who has to ask for forgiveness. I did not step forward when needed to. You should not have to have seen or faced what you had.”
A distant look clouded over Y/N’s eyes. A look that Lupin knew all too well.
“Don’t worry Professor. It’s nothing I haven’t faced before. Now, may I be excused?”
Lupin knew better than to push the student. Nodding his head, he watched as Y/N walked to the door and exited his office without another word.
Walking down the corridors, Y/N took in the gaggles of students walking to the Great Hall for dinner. As they entered the Great Hall, Y/N moved to sit at their house table, when suddenly their path was blocked by Draco’s buffoons; Crabbe and Goyle.
“Finished crying, have we?”
The two boys snickered as Y/N just looked at them with no regard.
“Yes.”
Crabbe and Goyle were thrown of at Y/N’s truthfulness. Shaking it off, the boys continued to jibe the person in front of them.
“Now tell us mudblood, who was it dead on the bed? I bet Crabbe it was your blood traitor of a mother. He thinks it was your worthless muggle father.”
Y/N wished they had stayed in Lupin’s office because then what would occur would probably never have happened/
Y/N stepped forward to and gave the pair a venomous look.
Crabbe and Goyle ceased their laughter, freezing in fear at the stare they were held under.
“The next time you think about calling my father or mother names, it’ll be you both dead on a slab. You got it?”
The pair silently nodded their heads and watched as Y/N walked around them, continuing to walk to their seat.
“Whoever it was, I bet they’re more than glad they don’t have to deal with you anymore.”
At the sound of their words, Y/N whipped around, pulling their wand out of their robes in a frenzy.
“Aguamenti!”
A flourish of water sprayed out the end of Y/N’s wand, instantly knocking the boys to the floor. Students around them screeched as they moved out the way of the spraying water. Y/N could hear those around them laughing at Crabbe and Goyle’s misfortune, but they didn’t care. Y/N would not allow anyone to disrespect their family in any way.
“Y/Fu/N!”
Ignoring the shout of their name, Y/N continued to spray water at the two boys. Pushing them further and further back, Y/N neglected the presence of the tears falling from their eyes. Watching as Crabbe and Goyle unsuccessfully tried to fight against the sprays of water, Y/N felt nothing but rage.
“Finite Incantatem!”
Suddenly, the water ceased spraying from the end of Y/N’s wand. Turning to give a piece of their mind to whomever stopped them, Y/N’s words ceased once they saw the Head of Slytherin house behind them.
The glare shooting into their own stare would have usually petrified them, but the emotion of the days was already clouding their mind. Before Y/N could defend their actions, they felt a sharp tug on their forearm.
Students watched in silence as Professor Snape dragged Y/N out the hall; Draco being among them. He had witnessed Y/N attack Crabbe and Goyle. It seemed his wish of Y/N being affected by the words from he and his friends had come true. But at what cost? Them being dragged away before Draco could even do what he had planned to do; step in and be heroic? The minute he saw his two idiotic friends approach Y/N, he knew that whatever they were going to say would not be positive. Draco was ready to walk over and stop them, but before he knew it, they were on the floor, drenched, and coughing up water. He had missed his chance to help once more.
As Madame Pomfrey rushed into the Great Hall, Draco followed the nurse and Professor McGonagall as they escorted Crabbe and Goyle to the hospital wing. While many would have thought he was accompanying his friends to see how they were, the minute Draco left the Great Hall he headed in the opposite direction; to where he knew Snape would have taken Y/N.
Y/N knew that their actions were irresponsible but after the day they had, they truly could not care if they were even kicked out of Hogwarts. They were scarred from the Boggart incident earlier on in the day and angered by Crabbe and Goyle’s horrible words. The day had just been too much to handle.
Snape continued to pull Y/N down corridors, weaving through the different paths around the castle before he reached his desired destination. Y/N obviously recognised the professor’s classroom as they approached the door.
Forcefully, Snape pulled the student into the classroom.
“Sit.”
They did not have the will to fight back at this moment in time. Feeling the exhaustion from what had just occurred, Y/N took a seat on the stool behind them; hardly having enough energy and strength to hold up their own body. The tears continuing to flow in rivers down their tear-stained cheeks; pooling in the creases of their hands which barely held their head up. What Y/N had seen had truly wrecked them, but what Goyle had said was what broke the dam.
“Now, enlighten me Y/L/N. What bewitched you to try and drown two members of my house?”
Y/N rolled their eyes. Of course, that was all Snape cared about.
“Do not roll your eyes at me child. Answer the question.”
“It was simple misunderstanding Professor.”
Snape rolled his eyes at the student’s attempt at dismissing the subject.
“Well, it must have been something for you to not only cause harm to your fellow students, but to nearly flood the Great Hall and now sit in my classroom and cry about it.”
“Like I said. It was nothing Professor.”
Before Snape could retort back once more, a knock came from the door.
Both Y/N and Snape turned to face the archway as they watched Draco open the classroom door.
“What is it Draco?”
Draco’s eyes flittered between the pair. He saw the tears that had stained Y/N’s face and the grimace on Snape’s.
“Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you. He said it was concerning the events of last week’s full moon.”
Snape glared towards Draco and headed towards the door.
Turning to face Y/N as he stands in the doorway, Snape pointed at the student.
“Do not leave this room. You will face the consequences for your actions when I get back.”
As Snape whisked his cape in a flourish and strode down the corridors, Y/N couldn’t help the scoff that emitted from their throat at the man’s over the top departure.
Draco stood in the doorway and watched as Y/N wiped away the tears. He wanted to help them. He wanted to help them with all he had in him. Seeing them cry felt what Draco could only describe as his heart breaking. It consumed him with guilt that the people who he associated himself with had hurt Y/N. But, yet, he knew, that the words he has said in the past have been just as horrible too. Except he had never seen the words affect them. Until now.
Y/N felt Draco’s presence still in the room. They could make out his figure standing in the archway of the classroom, watching them. Staring at them as they continued to wipe away their tears. They weren’t in the mood for anymore bullshit.
“Don’t even start with your pathetic, sarcastic comments Malfoy. Your cronies have done more than enough today.”
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but before even a breath left his tongue, Y/N pointed their wand towards him.
“I swear to Merlin Malfoy, leave me alone for fuck sake!”
Draco watched as the tears continued to fall down their face, tracing their blotchy cheeks, and falling into the curve of their neck, below their crumpled collar. He wanted to help.
Moving towards the potion cabinet, Draco searched through the shelves.
“What are you doing?”
Rolling his eyes, Draco continued to search the cabinets.
“Malfoy, what-”
“Will you be patient? And put that wand down for Merlin’s sake, I am trying to help.”
Y/N slowly lowered their wand. Placing the wand on the table, Y/N threaded their hands through their hair and leaned their elbows on the surface in front of them. Their body felt more and more heavy as the seconds went by. Like the weight of what they had seen and done had been placed around their neck and was dragging them further and further into the depths of despair.
Draco couldn’t stand seeing them like this, so he worked as quickly as he possibly could. Grasping the necessary ingredients, Draco positioned himself on the stool diagonally from Y/N and began working on the potion at hand.
As the smell of lavender washed over the room, Y/N carefully lifted their head to see Draco stirring a mixture in the boiling hot cauldron. He concentrated on his work in silence, giving Y/N the chance to stare.
While Draco thought Y/N saw him as nothing but one of the other students in the school, as a speck in their life, he was terribly wrong. Y/N noticed Draco much more than he realised. They noticed how much he cared about his studies, how he truly enjoyed potions the most. They noticed how he always started the day by eating eggs on toast for breakfast, just a different form of egg every day. They also noticed that even though he and his friends called them names, he unconsciously winced every time a horrible word was said towards them; like it hurt to even hear such things directing their way. Y/N also noticed how when the boggart had shifted into what she had seen earlier that Draco stepped forward and unconsciously held his wand tighter. She just didn’t understand why.
Continuing to stare, Y/N watched as Draco meticulously dissected the crocodile heart to his side, putting the necessary amount in the cauldron. Once he had done so, Draco mixed in the drops of peppermint needed and stirred the potion until completed. Pouring his creation into a bottle, Draco grabbed a piece of parchment, and teared a small piece off. Writing on the scrap piece, Draco tied it to the bottle and placed it on the table.
Draco slid the bottle across the table until it was in front of Y/N.
“What is this?”
“It’s a Calming Draught. You can take it for whenever you suffer shock, trauma, or an emotional outburst. You’ve already calmed down mostly so only take a few drops. But if you ever need to calm down quickly, take a large gulp. There’s enough there to last a while.”
Y/N’s eyes drifted from Draco to the bottle he had placed before them. They still felt the dried tears on their face and the tension in their body. They knew that continuing to think about what they saw would just cause them to cry more. Grabbing the bottle, Y/N did as Draco instructed, and poured a couple of small drops onto their tongue.
Instantly, as if the most soothing wave had rushed over them, Y/N felt calm. The tension in their back eased as they breathed a sigh of relief. No longer did tears pool at their eyes at the thought of what happened. They could only feel serenity, and at that moment, they were extremely grateful to feel only that.
At the sight of Y/N visibly relaxing, Draco himself felt the tension from his shoulders leave. Happy that he had actually helped as he desired to, Draco stood from his seat and began to put away the ingredients.
Y/N didn’t know what to say. Draco had always been irritable towards them. Making snide and awful remarks, but, as they had realised, it seemed it always hurt the boy to do so.
“Thank you, Draco.”
Draco paused for a split second as he held the jar on the shelf. He quickly continued to put the ingredients away.
“I’ve written instructions on how to further take the potion. You will most likely need to use it again if you find the memories of today too much.”
Draco turned back to face where Y/N sat.
Whilst he saw that they had calmed significantly thanks to the potion, he still saw an aura of sadness surrounding them.
“I’ve lived with that memory long enough to get used to it. But I still appreciate your kindness.”
Draco clenched and unclenched his fingers. The boy wanted to ask further questions about what she meant. However, he felt he was in no place to do so.
As Draco successfully packed away the items, he swiftly walked towards the door, ready to leave.
“You can tell Crabbe and Goyle that neither of them has won their little bet.”
Draco stopped in his steps. Confusion fell upon him.
“What bet?”
Y/N swung their legs as they sat on the stool, fiddling with the string of the potion in front of them.
“Crabbe thought it was my, in his words, ‘blood traitor of a mother’ who was on the hospital bed. Goyle said it was my ‘worthless muggle for a father’. They were both wrong.”
Draco was unaware of the exact words that Crabbe and Goyle had said to Y/N. Now that he had heard them, Draco wished he had his own supply of Calming Draught, as what Y/N did to them was in no means near how bad Draco was ready to deal with the pair.
Draco stepped closer to Y/N.
“What did you mean when you said you have lived with the memory long enough?”
Y/N ceased fiddling with the string in front of them. Turning to look at Draco, she saw a look that she never thought would be directed at her by the Slytherin Prince. He looked concerned. Almost sad to hear their words.
“For a lot of people, their boggart is something like a person or a creature. Mine’s more of something I had to do. I had no choice and I live with that every day of my life. I live with the fact that I had to turn off my brother’s life support as I was the only person he had left. He was all I had left. Now, it’s just me, myself, and I. Has been for a while.”
Draco was at loss for words. He could not imagine being without his parents or to have to lose someone so close to him.
“What happened to him?”
Y/N looked down at their lap.
“Accident at work.”
Draco moved forward until he was near the stool next to Y/N. Slowly taking a seat, he watched in case they chastised his actions. They stayed quiet.
“When did he pass?”
Y/N could feel the tears coming back. But they knew if they continued to bottle it up, that they would just react how they had before. Draco might have not been who they thought they were opening up to, but this was a day of surprising events.
Y/N flashed a watery smile to Draco as they sniffled their nose.
“Um, about a week after I started first year. He was nineteen and had just gotten a job as an Aura. One of the youngest ever to be one. He was apprehending a dark wizard when he was hit with a spell that I have no clue of. He was in muggle London and was found by a muggle who called an ambulance. If he was taken to hospital in the wizarding world he would have survived. But I can’t blame the person who called the ambulance. They didn’t know about magic. They did what they thought was best. I did what I thought was best too.”
Draco reached out to hold their hand. Just as his fingers grazed theirs, Y/N pulled their hand away. Confusion laced their features.
“I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Why am I telling you this?”
“I don’t know either.”
Y/N stared at Draco, taking in his figure. He didn’t look like the confident, arrogant Slytherin that roamed the halls. He looked soft. Breakable like porcelain. Like if enough pressure would be forced on him, he would shatter into a million pieces. Draco looked how Y/N felt.
“Why did you help me Draco?”
There was so much Draco wanted to say. He wanted to tell Y/N how much he truly hated the horrible things he had said towards them. How he longed to have them say hello and good morning to him like they did to everyone else. How he was standing so close to them in DADA class earlier because he wanted to take down the boggart for them. How he was about to hex Crabbe and Goyle himself before they did. He wanted to say all this and so much more.
“I’ve always wanted to help you. I finally had the chance to now.”
Right as Y/N was about to ask Draco what he meant, the door to the classroom swung open once more. The pair watched as Snape walked through the door, his cape billowing behind him as always.
Snape looked up towards where Y/N sat to continue reprimanding the student. He ceased in his steps once he saw how close they and Draco were sitting. That their hands were inches apart. One look in Draco’s eyes and he saw himself at that age. Hopelessly falling into a feeling, he never stopped falling in to.
“Leave.”
Draco went to stand without an argument.
“The both of you.”
Y/N looked at the Professor.
“But I-.”
Snape whipped to glare at Y/N.
“I have greater matters to deal with than your hormonal outburst child. Now, both of you head to your dorms before curfew or I’ll have you both in detention for a month.”
Without a second glance, Y/N stood from their seat and followed Draco out of the classroom. The pair continued to walk in silence down the corridor. As they arrived at the moving staircase, Y/N noted that this would be where they departed. Just as Draco moved to walk down the steps, he felt a pressure on his arm. Turning around, Draco watched as Y/N stepped towards him. He could feel their breathe on his face. Draco Malfoy had never been so stunned for words.
“Thank you, Draco.”
As their eyes stayed interlocked, Y/N moved their hand from Draco’s arm and slid it down to hold his own. Giving the boys hand a squeeze, they let got, and moved to head up the staircase without another word.
Draco watched as Y/N strode up the staircase and passed a corridor. He watched until he could no longer see them. Looking down at his hand, he clenched and unclenched his digits, feeling the ghost of a touch that was there for a fleeting second.
Facing back to the stairs, Draco walked down them, heading to the dungeons. Just as he was about to pass the hospital wing, a sudden though came to mind. If Crabbe and Goyle thought they were spending the afternoon in there, they would think again. After Draco would be done with them, they were going to be in there for a week.
While Draco could be sweet and kind for Y/N, he was still the Slytherin Prince after all.
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make-me-imagine · 4 years
Text
🦇 13 Days of Halloween: Day 2
🦇  << With appearance from Gary. (if you know, you know)
Prompts: “I think that scarecrow just moved” and “I’m not a witch” 
Requested by: ‘Jay’
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader + Dean, Platonic
Gender: Neutral        Words: 2,823
Triggers: Mentions of death, victims, fighting, injuries, choking (not the kinky kind), etc, typical Spn stuff. 
Supernatural Tag list: @kaashi​ ; if you’d like to added let me know!
Notes: Ranking of Halloween theme = 6/10; takes place during Halloween, but not necessarily Halloween specific. Just kind of spooky lol. 
If you’d like to check out 2019 and 2018′s 13 Days of Halloween, as well as my 2017 general Halloween/Fall stuff here are the links: x2017x, x2018x & x2019x
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“Why are there always so many more cases during Halloween?” Dean asked, annoyance in his voice as he looked at the news report of the most recent case you took up “I mean, this is like the fourth one this month” 
“I’m assuming it’s because monsters can blend in more during this time” you said casually as you looked over a case-file.
“Y/n’s right” Sam agreed
“Yeah, well it’s annoying as hell, we need a break” Dean sighed as he stood up, walking to the kitchen “We’ll leave in an hour” he stopped at the kitchen turning back “Lets hope this one doesn’t involve any clowns huh Sammy?” he asked, smirk evident.
You looked at Sam just in time to see him try and hide the fear that crossed his face as he cleared his throat, trying to ignore Deans comment. You smiled, reaching out your foot and tapping his, gaining his attention “You know he’s just teasing you”. He just nodded, trying to smile at you. 
-
As you arrived at the most recent crime scene, you looked around as Sam and Dean talked to the police. Looking at the area where the most recent victim was found, you frowned as you noticed an unusual amount of straw littering the parking lot. You noted it in the back of your mind, though you knew it could be nothing, possibly just where a hay truck could have stopped. 
“Hey” You turned seeing your boyfriend approaching you “Anything?”
“Not really, an unusual amount of straw, but it could be nothing. You?” 
Sam glanced at the straw littering the lot “Hmm. Uh, not much unfortunately, the security cameras blanked just before the crime and came back on afterwards.”
“Seems like a bit more than a coincidence” Sam hummed in agreement.
-
After a long day of interviews and research, you found out there had been a similar string of deaths the previous two years during the same time, twelve deaths each year, the final taking place on Halloween night. On your current case there were five known deaths, and one missing person. 
The three of you had also found out that all of the recent victims had all visited the same farm over the last week and a half. Which you were now on your way to visit. 
“The connection to the farm might explain the straw at the crime scene” you thought out loud at you pulled off the side of the road, near the farm.
“So, crazy farmer?” Dean suggested as he and Sam got out of the car.
“Might not be a monster at all” Sam said as he opened the door for you.
 “Human or monster, they still killed four people” you said.
Approaching the farm, the sun was getting lower in the sky as it reached early evening, the farm house was old and falling apart. Around the property you saw various pinned up old scarecrows in each field, as well as old Halloween decorations littering the pathways. 
All three of you carefully scanned the area, the overgrown fields baring no vegetables, a tall overgrown wheat field that clearly had not been harvested in a long time. “Not much of a farm. No vegetables, no animals. Why would anyone visit it?” you observed. 
“Good question, let’s ask her” Dean commented, gaining both yours and Sam’s attention. Following Deans gaze you see a middle-aged woman with curly hair sitting on the porch. She’s already staring at you as she rocks back and fourth in her wooden rocking chair. 
“Welcome!” she called out as you approached. 
“Ma’am” Sam greeted as you walked up the porch steps, all three of you taking out your fake badges “We hope we’re not disturbing you but we are investigating the recent deaths in town, as well as the most recent missing persons case, and we found out that all of the victims had visited this farm and we thought you might have some information for us”
“Oh is that so?” she asked, surprise in her voice “Well, I get a lot of visitors but I do remember faces fairly well, so if you have photos?”
“What exactly do your...visitors come here for if not the farm?” you asked, gesturing to the barren fields.
“Oh, no, that farm hasn’t grown profit since my husband died last year. I’m an apothecary” she smiled.
“Like a witch?” Dean blurted out, making you and Sam give him the side-eye “Uh, I mean no offense in that, I just mean, don’t apothecaries sell...potions?”
She laughed “No no, not potions, just...herbs, soups, and medicine that some might see as potions, or ingredients for medicines and other uses, but -” she laughed before her eyes locked with Deans “I’m not a witch” she smiled, though, there was something behind her eyes you could quite place. You just knew it gave all of you an uneasy feeling. 
“Right, of course not ma’am” Sam recovered before taking photos out of his pockets “These are the victims, do you recognize them?”
She looked at the photos for a few moments humming to herself “Yes, I recognize all of these people, he, I believe” she pointed at one of the victims “Bought medicinal herbs for tea, I believe he said he had a bad cough, and the others just bought various teas and herbs, if I am remembering correctly that is” she smiled before leaning back in her chair.
“And what about this woman?” you asked showing her a photo of the most recent person who went missing.
“No, no I don’t know her” she shrugged looking back up at you “I’m sorry I cannot be of more help”
“Thank you ma’am, if you have anymore information or questions please contact us” Dean said, handing her a card, which she took with a smile.
“Have a lovely day you three” she said with a smile as you left.
When you got closer to the car Dean glanced back at the farm, the woman was now gone “I don’t know about you two but she gave me the creeps. We should come back this evening, check out the farm” You and Sam agreed as you drove off to kill some time.
-
As the sun set and it got dark, you, Sam, and Dean snuck back on the farm, wanting to check out the nearby stables and work sheds. After having done more research on the farms owner, whose name you found out was Regina Stormson, you grew more suspicious, for two reasons. One, her husband died like she said, but his death turned out to be quite similar to the recent deaths, and occurred at the same time as the deaths the previous year. And two, she was apparently eighty-seven years old, which was unusual seeing as she looked no older than forty. 
As you got prepared by the Impala, sticking a spare knife in your belt Sam stepped over to you “Are you warm enough?” he asked eyeing your thin jacket. 
You smiled at him “I’m fine Sam” 
He nodded “Remember to be careful and call out for me if anything happens”
You chuckled quietly “You know I have been a hunter for a few years now Sam”
He smiled at his own protectiveness “Yeah, yeah I know, I just worry”
“Yes, you do, and it’s sweet” you smiled before pressing a quick kiss to his lips before you all headed toward the farm. 
-
Sneaking past the main house, you made your way into the first barn. Looking around, the barn was full of hanging herbs, flowers, and small fabric bags, that looked remarkably like hex bags. 
Dean fiddled with one in his hand “Not a witch my ass” he scoffed. “So what are we thinking? Twelve sacrifices around Halloween every year to stay young?”
“Sounds logical enough, and definitely like something an evil witch would do” you muttered as you looked at a small bladed tool on a table “And it might be thirteen deaths if her husband counts as a sacrifice”
“Maybe he got in the way, or found out what she was doing” Sam suggested.
You walked over to the doorway, your eyes scanning the outside fields, your eyes double taking to movement from the corner of your eye. Eyeing a scarecrow on its post and seeing no more movement, you turned away, thinking it must have been a bird that moved.
Making your way to the stables, it was no surprise when you found the body of the most recent missing person. Dean sighed as he finished checking their pulse, they were dead. 
“Okay, lets get to the farmhouse and finish this”
Standing in the doorway, you hear a sound behind you. Turning quickly you see the same scarecrow from before, only this time, it was now facing you, rather than facing the farm as it had been before.
“Guys” you said, your heart pounding. There was fear evident in your voice as the boys turned to you, seeing you staring out at the field “I think that scarecrow just moved” 
Sam and Dean shared a confused and somewhat frightened look as they appeared at your side, eyeing the scarecrow “How do you know?”
“It wasn’t facing us before” you said “I know it wasn’t” 
Sam’s hand found it’s way to your back “Lets head back to the house now”
You and Dean nodded as you left the barn, all of you keeping an eye on the scarecrow. You took your eyes away as you scanned the rest of the farm before stopping suddenly when you notice something.
“What is it Y/n?” Sam asked as his hand found it’s way back to your back like before. 
“When we were here earlier, I noticed that there was a scarecrow in every field. Now there isn’t” you observed.
The boys looked around, there eyes grazing over each field. Four fields in front of you, two scarecrows missing. Hearing rusting and a snapping sound the three of you spun around, finding the previous scarecrow now missing. Five fields total, three scarecrows missing. 
“Go” Dean said as he pushed you and Sam towards the house. 
You all took out your weapons, as you quickly made your way towards the farmhouse. Looking at the distant house, you could see a shadow in the window, a figure watching you from the window. She knows you’re here.
Hearing more rustling and snapping, you turn just in time to see the final two scarecrows dropping from their posts with thuds. Turning past a barn you all stop in your tracks, two tall slumped over scarecrows blocking your path. You raise your guns, all of you knowing they probably wouldn’t do anything.
“We need to get to the witch” you spoke quietly, just as you did, both you and Sam felt something grab your shoulders as something pulled you back, both of you being thrown to the ground roughly by two more scarecrows.
Dean fired his guns at them, the bullets having no effect as they passed through the straw bodies. The two scarecrows from before grabbed onto Dean. Fighting the scarecrows, you and Sam pulled away from the two that attacked you.
Turning, you see that Dean managed to push away the two scarecrows that attacked him “Go!” you yelled at Dean as the scarecrows blocked yours and Sams path. 
Dean hesitated for a moment before he turned, and running for the farmhouse, knowing he had to get to the witch. Before the two scarecrows could chase after him, you shot at them, to gain their attention. 
Turning towards you, the four scarecrows now surrounded you and Sam as you tried to fight back, your knives and guns doing nothing to wound them. Instead, you reached into the exposed straw body of one of the scarecrows, deciding if anything, to tear it apart.
But the witches spell made them strong. Which you found out as a scratchy wood and straw hand wrapped around your throat lifting you off the ground.
“Y/n!” Sam called as he struggled to get to you, three of the scarecrows attempting to pin him to the ground. 
You scratched at the figure, knowing you couldn’t hurt it, as you struggled to breath you remembered you had a lighter in your pocket. Reaching into your pocket, choking for air, you managed to pull the lighter out, shoving your hand inside of the scarecrows body, you lit the lighter, failing the first few times.
The grip around your throat lightened when a bright light grew from inside of the scarecrow as you managed to light it on fire. As the fire grew the scarecrow lost strength, letting you go. You gasped for air as you rose, running over to Sam. Jumping on one of the scarecrows back as the continued to punch and hit Sam, you lit it’s cloth casing on fire as it began to burn.
As it quickly burned, losing whatever strength it had in it, Sam, understanding, took a lighter out of his pocket. The scarecrows however, seemed to have some form of consciousness, as they grabbed his arms, stopping him from lighting them on fire. 
Just as you were about to help him, you felt something grab your arm, flinging you into the barn, throwing you through the barn doors and inside. You heard Sam yell our for you between grunts as the two scarecrows left continued to attack him. 
Looking up, you see it’s the first scarecrow you noticed, it was also bigger than the others. You cursed yourself, knowing you had dropped your lighter when you were thrown. You looked around, standing and grabbing a pitchfork, lunging it into the scarecrows body to hold it back.
The scarecrow continued to step forward, the metal forks going through it’s body along with the rest of the pitchfork. You let go before kicking it back with your foot and running toward the doorway. 
The scarecrow was fast as it reached out grabbing your shirt and pulling you back towards it. Flinging you into the wall again, various metal tools fell off the wall and onto you. Looking back at the scarecrow you see it lifting the pitchfork, ready to stab you.
Rolling out of the way as the pitchfork is stabbed into the ground, you move to run, but instead the scarecrow grabs your foot, dragging you back. You grunted in frustration as you turned and kicked at it again, grabbing a nearby wrench and throwing it, knowing it would do nothing. 
The scarecrow began lifting you off the ground by your ankle as you struggled against it’s grip. You could hear Sam calling from outside as he still struggled with the other two scarecrows. 
Your body turned enough so that you were now facing the scarecrow. You looked into it’s blank face just in time to see it raise it’s other hand, inside of it’s grip was a small hand scythe. Your eyes widened knowing it was going to plunge it into your body.
As it rose it’s hand you closed you eyes, calling out desperately “Sam!”
Just then, Sam burst through the barn doors, seeing the scarecrow holding you up by your leg, ready to plunge the blade into your body.
“No!” he yelled as he moved forward, knowing he wasn’t going to make it, as the scarecrow finished raising his hand.
Just as the scarecrow was about to bring down it’s hand, you heard the sound of distant gunshots, coming from the farmhouse. The scarecrows hand froze, and suddenly it’s whole body went limp, both you and the scarecrow falling to the ground. 
You grunted at the impact as Sam made it to you, quickly pulling you away from the scarecrow and into his lap. As you sat up, you eyed the now lifeless scarecrow. Letting out a sigh you leaned your head back onto Sams chest as he ran his hand over you head, sighing out in relief as well.  
A moment passes before you heard Dean calling out as he ran towards the barn. He appeared in the doorway, his eyes scanning over the still burning bodies of the scarecrows you and Sam had killed. He walked into the barn, seeing you and Sam, along with the limp scarecrow body in front of you. He looked at Sam before nodding his head in assurance that it was over.
Rising from the ground you groaned in pain from having been thrown around, Sam had some cuts and scratches, both of you would definitely have some bruises later. Dean got some scratches and small bumps from his scuffle with the witch. But you were relieved you were all alright.
As you slowly made your way out of the barn and back towards the impala you sighed “I never liked scarecrows, they’ve always been creepy”
Dean chuckled as Sam wrapped his arm around your waist before commenting “They’re still not as bad as clowns though”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
Hope you like it! If you would like to be added to my taglist for any character or fandom, let me know!
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inosuketingz · 4 years
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the sheets are stained with blood [p.1]
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( gif not mine )
[ PART ONE ] PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR Victor Zsasz x fem!Reader Warning: Some swearing and mentions of violence. Spoilers for Birds of Prey Word Count: 1482 Summary: Zsasz survives the ending of BoP and somehow snaps even further after finding out what happened to Roman. Desperate to find a new obsession, he latches on to the reader while meeting her on a heist. A/N; Thought about this after watching BoP and decided to write it for my new tumblr acc. Also posted on my Ao3. Its gonna get smutty in future parts of course but this first part is quite mundane lol. Future parts will also feature some Helena x reader bc I’m a whore for Helena Bertinelli. Reader is a witch-y metahuman and is a part of Wonder Woman’s rogue gallery.
The TV plays the latest news report as you stuff a spoon of cereal into your mouth. The reporter stands in front of some nightclub near the city reporting on yet another death by stabbing.
"... she was found in the back alley of the nightclub last night, her body purposefully positioned in a life-like stance. Due to CCTV evidence from the previous stabbing murder, the Gotham police are suspecting ex-businessman Victor Zsasz to be the wicked man behind these crimes..." An image transitions onto the screen, showing a low quality image of a man with almost paper white hair and dark bags under his eyes. The reporter continues to drone on about the twisted results from the autopsy report.
"Yikes," you say to yourself before you grab the remote from the coffee table and switch to another channel playing reruns of Martin
You came to Gotham a few months back since Wonder Woman never let you have any fun in Boston, even though she's currently stationed all the way in London. You assume you’ll be able to keep away from the Bat's radar while he’s busy dealing with psycho clowns and knife-wielding serial killers.
A soft ping rings from your phone and you glance at the screen. Shipment's called off is all the text on your lockscreen reads. It's from an unknown number, but you know that it's another henchmen of the crime boss you’re working with for the time being. Putting down the bowl of cereal, you pick the cell up and tap in three letters before pressing send: Why.
It only takes a moment for you to get a reply. Got reports of the Birds of Prey being in the area. Better safe than sorry.
“Fuck,” you curse and throw your head back in anguish. You were relying on the cash you’d get from the heist for rent.
The phone dinged again. Meeting at the mansion to re-work the plan. In an hour, be there on time bruja, the new message reads.
Great. You thought all you were going to to tonight was show up at the docks, use your powers a bit, and run off with your share of the money. But no. God forbid you get your way for once.
With an annoyed groan, you force yourself off the couch and into your bedroom. You kick off your plaid pajama jogger as you push open the door. Your closet is over piled with clothes and you immediately regret not picking out an outfit earlier. You are a strong believer of wearing revealing outfits for yourself, and the amount of bodycon dresses you want to wear was overwhelming. Then you remember it’s winter and inches of snow are already forming outside.
To be a hoe or to care about your well-being. It is a conflicting life that you live.
~ ~ ~
You decided to go for a pair of black cargo pants and a turtleneck. The weather won this round. The mansion’s already filled as you park your car based on the amount of luxury vehicles filling the house's driveway. You hated working in big groups- it only led to problems. But, you’re down to do anything for the amount of checks you would be cashing with this entire heist.
Two burly men guard the front door of the mansion. One of them smirks as he watches you approach.
“Look, it’s the witch,” he tells the other and you roll your eyes. “Where’s your flying broom?” He teases.
“Shut the fuck up,” you mutter as you pass the two, pushing the heavy doors with a grunt.
The other guard laughs at your reply. “Careful, Hermione. It’s all fun and games until Wonder Woman comes and drags you out of Gotham.”
You don’t bother to look back as you retort “It’s all fun and games ‘til I cast a spell that leaves you two without your dicks tomorrow morning.” The silence as you continue down the dark hallway tells you they stopped smiling.
Are you actually going to bewitch their genitals away? No. But most people knew better than to assume you wouldn’t.
The corridor is dark, tinted red by the only source of light- an open set of doors leading into a grand meeting room. Expensive pottery and paintings lined against the walls of the mansion, all what you’d expect from Hernando del Rey.
Originally, you actually meant it when you decided to lay low in Gotham. You’d find a nice apartment, steal from the rich, and stay off the news until the end of time.
Then, you were contacted by Hernando del Rey, a Venezuelan crime boss straight out of a mob movie. Though you’re not necessarily a bad person- you define yourself as a chaotic neutral- you are dangerous. Del Rey wanted your powers, and you wanted the money- so here you are now.
You shove your hands into your pockets and swagger into the open doors. A group of about 20 people, men, women, and all those in between, sit at a long table. Some of the faces you recognize, either from previous meetings you’ve had with del Rey or from news reports.
One such face belongs to none other than Victor Zsasz. He immediately stands out from the others with his snowy hair and scruffy beard. He also looks like he hadn’t slept in days, so there’s that. Plus, ever since the CCTV recording of him at the last stabbing was leaked, his face is all you saw on the news.
His tired eyes watch you as you enter the room. You can’t tell if he’s giving you bedroom eyes or staring you down like a predator does a prey. Quite frankly, you aren’t in the mood to find out.
“My bruja!” del Rey, who made his seat at the end of the table, cheers when he sees your face. “The most important member of my team!”
You stretch your lips into an awkward smile “Hi.”
“Please take a seat.” Hernando motion towards the table. “Then we’ll begin.” You glance over in the direction of all the seated guests. Powers or not, way too many of them look like they wouldn’t mind killing you.
“I’m fine standing, thanks.”
Hernando shrugs and begins lecturing about the game plan with the new threat of the Birds of Prey. You only pay half of your attention, catching a few words here and there. You never listen carefully at times like this, since your job is usually to just show up, cast some hexes and head out.
“I didn’t know they let witches in on heists.” You look down and see Victor Zsasz in front of you. His head is leaning back, since he sits facing away from you. Now that you are closer to him, you can see his features more clearly. From the silver teen in his mouth, to his token scars that cover his body- the nastiest being one on his neck that you assume wasn’t given to him voluntarily.
You bend down slightly so you can whisper in his ear, “I didn’t know they let mass murderers in on them, either.” He scoffs and straightens his neck and you straighten your back.
“-Y/N and Victor Zsasz will be the ones going to Hyunwoo Kim’s estate tomorrow.”
Yikes.
“I’m sorry, why do I get put with him?” You confront the boss. “I don’t think our attributes really compliment each other, to be honest.”
Hernando del Rey sighs, like an annoyed parent dealing with a bratty child. “Zsasz will be doing all the work, Y/N. You’re only there to make sure he doesn’t act out. If he does, just use your brujeria to kill him.”
The inside of your cheek starts to bleed due to how hard you bite it to refrain from arguing any further. You’ve never seen del Rey angry and you want to make sure to keep it that way.
From the corner of your eye you see Zsasz is back to looking at you. The wicked smile he wears tells you that this wouldn’t be any good.
~ ~ ~
A tired sigh leaves your mouth as you enter your apartment. The lights are off, just like you left it. It’s pitch black, leaving you blind against the darkness.
You begin to take off your pair of pumps when you notice the energy is off in here. The voice in your head yells that you are not alone. Immediately, you begin to mumble a Haitian spell you learned while in Port-au-Prince once summer- one that allows you to find a foe before they find you.
You’re not even halfway through the first line when a strong force pushes against you and your neck is pricked by a sharp object. Using your elbow, you hit the light switch.
The lights flicker on, revealing Victor Zsasz staring at you with the same look from earlier.
“Hello, witch.”
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hexagonalhavoc · 5 months
Note
Romantic with Sado, please! Reader is a another game character, weak, silent, He/Him. Not Angst
Jailbreak 
Sado x Reader
     You never thought you would be in the npc detention center. You didn’t even know what you did wrong. Your memories are nothing but a blur, every time you get a snippet of the past you’re greeted with more questions than answers. You can’t even remember the game you came from. You were wearing some sort of circus outfit but that didn’t help to ease your confusion. Everyone else could remember what game they came from so why couldn’t you? 
You hated it here. All you could do was sit around in your cell and listen to your cellmates talk. It gave you such a headache to hear them all talk at once, screaming and banging on the blue force fields that kept them within their cells. 
It wasn’t unusual to see Irving roaming the halls and acting as a warden. You doubted anyone could leave this place and he made it very clear what would happen if they tried but he still patrolled regularly to make sure no one was planning to cause trouble. He walked with one hand behind his back and the other on his earpiece. The most entertainment you got was listening to him talk to people over the earpiece and even that was boring. 
“Yes I got her. There should be no evidence left that Dosa’s game ever existed.” A game being deleted? You lean closer and press your ear up to the front of your cell. Maybe you can’t remember your game because it was deleted. Irving starts to walk away from your area and it’s harder to hear what he’s saying. You can make out very few words.
“Game breaking…npc hostage…lured…” 
He starts walking your way so you move away and keep your head down. He doesn’t even seem to know you were there, you wonder if he would even care if you’re listening or not. “So keep an eye on her, she’s smarter than she looks. Once we’re sure that she is secured with no chance of escape we can get rid of him, there’s no point in keeping him here.” Irving slams his fist against your cell, causing you to flinch back. There was no reason for him to do that other than to mess with you. This wasn’t the first time he’s done something like this and he only seems to do it to you. 
Someone else is being detained here? But where? You don’t see any new faces. Whoever “she” is, she must be at the very end of the hallways in the cell that has the most security. This new prisoner must have done something really bad. 
And who was Irving talking about? Whoever was the topic of conversation was unlucky as your wannabe warden made it very clear that they wouldn’t be alive for very long. You shuddered at the thought of that. No one that had been locked up had deserved to die. Being a video game character was hard, if you do even one thing out of script you’ll be punished harshly. 
He’s no longer talking but he’s still patrolling. You’re starting to get irritated by the sound his tacky dress shoes made against the sleek floors. You wonder if he has some sort of personal vendetta against you because he’s right in front of your cell again. 
“I bet you feel pretty small in there.” Does he just like picking on you in particular? He ignores everyone else. It’s not like you’ve done anything to him, you haven’t uttered a single word to him. “You want out, right? I bet if you ask your friend for help she’ll let you out.” You lift your head up to look at him. Your friend? You have no clue who he’s talking about. You can hardly remember who you are let alone any people you might have known in the past. If you were braver you would have questioned his words but you just lowered your head down again, assuming that he was just trying to get to your head. 
In reality, he was trying to get into Sado’s head. With how powerful she is he’s unsure if she’s capable of freeing herself from her shackles. Normally you don’t try to provoke a powerful force like her but Irving has a sizable ego which makes him think he’s untouchable. 
He knows that you don’t remember Sado but Sado remembers you. And you ended up being the perfect bait to catch a normally allusive entity like she was. Who would have guessed that her kryptonite would be such a person like yourself? There’s no disturbance on her end so maybe she really can’t escape her confinements. Irving can’t spend his whole day tormenting you so he takes his leave. 
Everything has quieted down for now and so you sit in your cell, your finger drawing invisible patterns on the ground out of sheer boredom. 
The sound of electricity crackling fills your ears. That wasn’t a sound you were familiar with. Then you hear the commotion of your fellow npc’s as a dark void draws near, ready to consume everything in its wake. You defensively curl up into a ball in the corner of your cell. You close your eyes with your hands on each side of your head. Is this really it? Are you meant to spend your last moments in confusion? 
Click! Click! Click! 
That’s a familiar sound to you, the sound of someone’s shoes against the hard floors. It doesn’t sound as heavy as Irving’s footsteps. Slowly, you lift your head up. There’s darkness right outside your cell but it doesn’t dare enter. The voices of the others are gone. Your cell door opens but the darkness doesn’t spill in. 
You stand up and go the very edge of your cell. You’re afraid but there’s no point in keeping yourself cooped up in there. This may be your chance to escape. You have to hype yourself up but you stick your hand out of your cell and into the darkness just to see what happens. The void rips itself apart to make way for your hand. You shakily inhale and step out completely. It’s like an invisible force field prevents the darkness from swallowing you up like it did all the others but why? What’s so special about you? 
The darkness continues to split itself down the middle until you can see a figure down the hallway. This dark clothed silhouette walks over to you slowly, as if savoring each step of her introduction. Naturally, you should feel afraid of a stranger in the darkness approaching you with such a cheshire grin but you don’t. Something in your heart is telling you that everything is going to be okay. You almost feel nostalgic in the strangest way. 
Now she’s right in front of you. She’s so close but you don’t feel the need to shy away like you do with other people. Her smile is uncanny and her eyes are unblinking but you feel safe right now. 
“You don’t remember me?” 
You’ve never been much of a talker. The only thing you can do is nod. 
“That’s a pity.” She takes another step towards you. You’re so close that if she takes another step you’ll be touching. “And yet…you didn’t run away. You know you’re important to me, don’t you?” 
You nod once more. How can her words mean nothing but everything at the same time? 
She tilts her head to the side. A pale hand slowly goes to your face as if she’s trying not to startle you. Black fingernails gently graze your cheek but you hardly feel them. Is this the one Irving was talking about? The one that was such a threat she was locked away with maximum security? But she seems so gentle. 
“I’m not too worried about it. I’ll get us out of here and we can work on jogging your memories together. I wouldn’t mind falling in love with you all over again.” Her expression is still the same but her eyes look glossy and you can’t if it’s because she’s happy or sad. Her voice doesn’t much inflection in it. 
It feels like there’s a hand pressing on your chest and it makes your eyes water. You’ve never heard such words before. You never thought someone could look at you so tenderly. You slowly reach your hand out to hers but then the whole building shakes. You would have fallen over if not for the hands that steady you. 
“Well would you look at that, they finally showed up. They’re behind schedule.” Before you can question her she turns to face you. “You have two choices. You can let the space marines save you or you can come with me. We’ll see each other again no matter what you choose.” Sado was going to wait for one of them to free her but they had came too late. All she had to do was lead one of them to the Hex Artifact. Unfortunately she couldn’t complete the ritual on her own. If she wanted to get you both to the real world she would have to let them take the artifact. 
You grab Sado’s hand, making your choice clear. Her hand tightens around yours. “You made a good choice. Stay close to me, we won’t part ever again.”
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Supernatural Crack Attack Challenge Masterlist
I want to thank everyone who entered my challenge. I truly appreciate it. I’ve got a lot of first timers in writing crack and all of them did an AMAZING job! These fics had me giggling all the way to suddenly bursting out in laughter. If these fics don’t help brighten up your day, I don’t know what will. I hope you all enjoy these hilarious gems! Make sure to let the author know how amazingly talented they are, because well... they really are.
Also, PLAGIARISM is UNACCEPTABLE. These are the author’s original work and ideas, and they had put in a lot of effort to write these stories. REBLOG!! Do not copy, paste, or alter any of these stories without the authors consent!
THANK YOU!!
**SMUT WILL BE IN BOLD**
I Am You, And You Are Me Written by @theworldiscolorful​ (@purpleskiesandcherrypies)
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Summary: You woke up one day to find yourself in Dean’s Body
Warnings: Smut (oral, a bit of dirty talk, a bit of panty kink), Crack (what is smut and crack? Smack?)
Prompt: Switching Bodies
The Hottest Garbage Man Alive Written by @evansrogerskitten
Pairings: Jensen x Reader, Jensen x Jared
Summary: In our reality, Jensen Ackles is perfect and glamorous. What if in a different life, he was something ordinary like a garbage man?
Warnings: Crack fic! Oral sex (male receiving,) implied smut, fantasizing, AU
Prompt: Awkward Moments
Flammable Angel Farts Written by @deans-jiggly-pudding
Characters: Castiel, Dean, Sam, and Jack
Summary: N/A
Warnings: canon-typical language, fart jokes, crack
Prompt: Allergic Reactions
Sam Who? Written by @winchesterprincessbride
Characters: Dean, Sam, and Reader
Summary: After an unsolved case that may or may not have been a witch, the reader wakes up with no memory of her boyfriend, and it gets old for Sam and Dean very quickly.
Warnings: Crack
Prompt: Temporary Memory Loss
Something Isn’t Right by ME!! (This fic is posted on my main masterlist)
Characters: TWF 2.0 and Reader (mostly Jack)
Summary: Jack’s clothes don’t seem to fit right and when he meets up with the others, he’s finally enlightened as to why.
Warnings: Crack!
Prompt: Wardrobe Malfunction
Freaky Friday by @bamby0304
Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean, Rowena
Summary: Sam wakes up in a bed he didn’t fall asleep in… in a body that isn’t his. When he finds his own body asleep in the Bunker library he also finds you occupy the body, confusion ensues. Dean can’t stop laugh, you can’t stop freaking out, and despite everything Sam is- once again- the only person who can keep their head on… well, your head on… his head on? Jeez this is confusing.
Warnings: Explicit language. An attempt at crack. Body swap, obviously. Fluff? The slightest bit of angst? Implied smut.
Prompt: Curse
Hide and Seek by ME!! (This fic is posted on my main masterlist)
Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean Winchester
Summary: Sam and reader are babysitting and things get a little heated when they share the same hiding spot.
Warnings: Crack!, Not really smut… but… slight Smut? PG-16? Dry Humping, Tight Spaces, Things touching things… lol.
Prompt: Accidents
Talk Psychology to Me by @bamby0304​
Characters: Dean x College-Student!Reader
Summary: The morning after meeting and rejecting Dean, you bump into him again. The two of you sit for coffee, and somehow the conversation turns to pick-up lines… which leads to sex.
Warnings: Explicit language, A poor attempt at crack, Bad pick-up lines, Rejection, Psychology talk, Smut, Oral (male receiving), Unprotected sex.
Prompt: Pick Up Lines
Switched by @waywardrose13
Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam Winchester
Summary: Fucking Witches (that’s all you get)
Warnings: Witches/hex, language, some angst, a fight, Dean’s a dick, period talk, Sam’s a bit rude, fluff, crack!fic
Prompt: Switching Bodies
The Grass Is Always Greener by @hannahindie
Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader, Dean
Summary: N/A
Warnings: Alcohol, weed, language, cracky goodness, so much smut. Just…just filth. Like a pinch of plot towards the end, but it’s like…guys, it’s just…you shouldn’t read it if you’re under 18. Hell, you maybe shouldn’t read it if you’re over 18. I mean, for me, anyway. It could be worse. But it’s all over the place, and there’s just a lot of it. So….here you go.
Prompt: Drinking/Drunk
Research by @sculptorofbeginnings
Characters: Team Free Will 2.0, Unknown Female Character
Summary: Sam is enjoying the day doing some quiet research until Jack finds a very interesting book…
Warnings: Smut (only a little though), Daddy!Kink, Embarrassed Sammy, Clueless Jack, General Crack!Hilarity, if I did my job right.
Prompt: Jack Asks Questions
Every Dean Has His Day by @bamby0304​
Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam
Summary: After Dean drinks the potion that makes him act like a dog again, you’re stuck babysitting when it goes wrong. Days stuck with the older Winchester lead to truths being told. But is it just the dog in him talking?
Warnings: My poor attempt at crack (honestly, I tried). Scumbag in a roadhouse. Explicit language. Period talk. Fluff. A bit of angst. Smut (yep… smut). Dirty talk. Fingering. Unprotected sex.
Prompt: Potions
The French Maid by @myinconnelly1
Characters: Dean x Reader, Jack, Sam, Castiel
Summary: N/A
Warnings: Smut, 18+ , NSFW, roleplay, crack.
Prompt: Jack Asks Questions
Fallen For Me by @waywardmoeyy​
Characters: Jack Kline x Reader, TFW
Summary: N/A
Warnings: Self-doubt, Fluff, Crack.
Prompt: Clumsy
Baking With The Devil’s Son by @rubynationwins
Characters: Jack, Reader, Dean, and Sam
Summary: N/A
Warnings: Crack
Prompt: Jack Asks Questions
Animals by @winchesterwolf30
Characters: Dean x Reader
Summary: Dean wakes up one morning to find a very hairy surprise (takes place before the animal mind-spell.)
Warnings: None, except that I am TERRIBLE at writing crack, so, my apologies.
Prompt: Spells
Making a Princess by @samslittlespoon​
Characters: Sam x Reader
Summary: You and Sam are called to an emergency, only to find out it’s not the type of emergency you were expecting...
Warnings: Crack, Language
Prompt: Kids/Old People
See No Evil by @bamby0304​
Characters: Dean x Reader x Sam
Summary: A case goes awry and you end up being hit with a spell that turns you invisible. While the brothers freak you try to cheer them up. A few pranks turn to heated moments that you try to shy away from, determined to keep the brothers from getting their feelings hurt. In the end though, they tell you they see more than you might think.
Warnings: An attempt at crack. Bit of angst. Some embarrassment. Nudity. Fluff. Smut. Fingering. Dirty talk. Unprotected sex. Oral (male receiving). Admittedly… this is gonna be more smutty than funny… I couldn’t help myself.
Prompt: Spells
Jack’s Case by @rideandwritethethings
Characters: TFW 2.0 x Reader (Platonic)
Summary: Jack finds a case for the Winchesters and is unable to understand why they keep laughing at the information he’s giving them.
Warnings: Warnings: crack, a whole bunch of innuendos so like PG13? they’re bad jokes though I am Not Good At Crack
Prompt: Innuendos
What Were You Thinking? by @a-winchester-fairytale
Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam
Summary: While on a case, a witch plays a little trick on Dean, giving him the gift of too much information.
Warnings: crack
Prompt: Curses/Spells/Potions
Not Funny by @thatfanficstuff
Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean
Summary: N/A
Warnings: Crack, Clowns, dude, clowns. Canon typical stuff
Prompt: Disguises, Undercover/Costumes
Once again, thank you to everyone that signed up and followed through. There were a few writer’s, due to personal issues and timing, that reached out and couldn’t make the deadline or extension deadline. Thank you for reaching out and letting me know. There were others who didn’t even bother giving me a simple ASK or message, which I am disappointed in. In the future, please let me know. A small heads up is very much appreciated and considerate to the host. 
Hope you enjoyed the challenge and masterlist!! 
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Weasley twins x reader / All’s fair in joking and love
A/N Second birthday fic for Fred and George. This is my first one with both of them and reader so if it’s bad I apologise. This one wasn’t requested but I rolled with it anyway. Natural mix of angst and fluff. Also if anyone wants to request a (smutty) part 2 of this I’d happily write it.  I realise their birthday probably wouldn't happen at the burrow for the sakes of this story it does anyway enjoy <3 A/N
Word count: 2,189
Warnings: None except for some class A pranks ;).
“Happy birthday!” 
All the Weasley’s (except Charlie and Percy) along with Harry, Hermione and me had been waiting for the two birthday boys to wake up and make their way downstairs. Fred and George feigned surprise as though they didn’t get this almost every year and made everyone laugh with their dramatics. 
“Oh my god you guys!” Fred fanned his face as though he was about to cry much similar to a teenager or a pageant queen. Meanwhile George made an ‘ugly crying face’ prompting more laughter. 
“Come on boys I made you some birthday breakfast.” Molly ushered them down from the stairs with a large smile and began serving them pancakes as they sat down, the rest of us following. “And you can have any toppings you like.” Molly gave a small wink and then instantly regretted her choice of words as Fred and George both reached to pile everything and anything they could onto their pancakes. By the end you could no longer see the pancake itself under the weight of copious amounts of chocolate and sweets all mixed with different sauces of all flavours, it was enough to make anyone nauseous but not the twins. They dug in as the rest of us kept it simple with some chocolate and/or fruit. 
The conversation was light and fun as we all enjoyed breakfast that was until a loud scream erupted from the end of the table and everyone turned to see Ron screaming at his plate. He got up and ran away almost as if he had seen a- and then I saw it, a massive black spider covering Ron’s plate where his pancakes had once been. Fred and George burst into laughter and high fived each other. 
Molly told them to turn it back after a disapproving speech about April fools day jokes. They looked as though they hadn’t taken a single word in as they stifled more laughter. I heard George whisper to his brother, “we’re only just getting started.” I suddenly dreaded what the rest of the day was bound to bring but was excited to see nonetheless. 
They did not disappoint. 
Each member of the family had been got. Ginny’s hair had been transformed into a big ball of fluff atop her head as well as it changing colours every 5 minutes. 
Harry had been having uncontrollable sneezing fits one after the other, Molly thought he was ill and insisted he rest up. It wasn’t until Harry reached up and grabbed something in thin air just under his nose, it was a feather that become visible at this touch. Harry laughed it off with Fred and George, thankful that it wasn’t ongoing unlike Ginny’s hair. 
Bill had woke up to find his hair cut short. He had ranted to his mother who he suspected had done it whilst he was sleeping before it grew back to twice its original length an hour later, his hair was nearly hitting the floor. He found the twins and they confessed after Bill intimidated them in a way only an older brother could. 
Hermione had been more difficult to prank. They had thought about fake burning her books but that was a push to far even for them so they decided to use one of their own creations. They used a sweet she wasn’t aware of as yet, the nosebleed nougat and bribed Ginny into giving her one because no way would she eat anything they gave her. She accepted with only a tiny bit of suspicion but Ginny convinced her they were some old fashioned muggle sweets from the muggle store and since Hermione’s parents were dentists and did not approve of much sugar, she decided to trust Ginny and gave into temptation. Molly was not impressed when she had to fix Hermione’s heavily bleeding nose 5 minutes later. 
The only person left was me. They didn’t dare prank Molly or Arthur, that would just end in more trouble than its worth. I waited and waited, trying to anticipate for the worst. It wasn’t until 4pm that something happened but it wasn’t a prank, it was Fred pulling me into his room as I walked past on my out of the bathroom. I looked heavily confused at him as he smirked his devilish smirk at me. 
“What?” I asked, my voice was shaky for some reason. I was on edge, that must have been it, expecting the worst to happen. Perhaps George would jump out disguised as a terrifying clown with a chainsaw of some sorts.
“I need to tell you something.” Fred looked like he was about to burst with excitement or maybe it was nerves? But why would Fred be nervous, he was only ever nervous when he was being severely told off by his mother or if he was talking to an attractive girl whom he liked. I nodded encouragingly for him to continue. He took a large inhale of breath. “I think I’m in love with you (y/n).” 
My throat dropped to my stomach and your heart felt as though it had abandoned me out of shock but then I felt it pound hard against my rib cage. My face was a picture; eyes widened to the size of a quaffle, face fully red.
And then it struck me painfully like a bolt of lightning. He wasn’t serious. This was it, this was the joke. And it was a cruel way to end the day. I looked closely at Fred who kept up his nervous façade. Irritation clocked on my face and Fred’s eyebrows knitted together. 
“Very funny.” I applauded. “You got me but I’m gonna go and have dinner now because I’m pretty sure your Mum is calling.” I knew Molly wasn’t even half done with dinner but I had to leave that room and fast. Fred wasn’t to know of my past feelings for him but still it didn’t make it less painful to know the thought of us together was just a joke to him. 
The downstairs area of the burrow was mainly empty. I heard cheers from outside and assumed that they were playing Quidditch outside. Molly was preparing dinner along with what looked like a large chocolate cake and one lone person was sat on the sofa reading. I looked over and saw it was George, my curiosity peaked and I made my way over as Ginny flew quickly past the window.
“Hey Georgie.” George peered over what I realised was an old copy of one of Lockhart’s books. “You can’t be seriously reading that.” George looked confused and turned the book to look at the cover, once he realised he threw the book onto the table in front of him, a look of disgust on his face. I laughed as he smiled at me. 
“So why were you reading that?” I asked through my little fits of giggles. George sighed and sank down into the sofa. 
“I wasn’t. I just needed to hide from Ginny. Her hair still hasn’t gone back to normal and she’s gotten pretty good with the bat bogey hex. She’s always looking for a new test subject.” He heard the door open and checked to make sure it wasn’t his sister. 
I laughed again. “But she can’t do magic outside of Hogwarts anyway.” 
“I wouldn’t put it past her, she can be fierce when she wants to be.” George sounded almost intimidated. I laughed a little more before George turned suddenly serious and faced me. “(Y/n) what would you say to a person you liked but was also one of your best friends?” I furrowed my brow at the question but answered it anyway. 
“Well, I’d just put it simply. Tell them how I feel and then see their reaction. Honesty is the best policy.” I internally cringed at myself for using my mothers phrasing but felt comfortable with my answer. George twisted his lips thoughtfully and nodded. 
“Okay then,” George sat up straight and just as I had he urge to ask who it was he said, “(y/n) I like you and I mean in a more-than-friends way.” He took a large deep breath at the end and I was taken aback. Seriously both of them? George looked hurt as I laughed. This couldn’t be happening. I was already conflicted in my feelings for both of the twins I didn’t need their jokes to make things worse. 
“Really? You know it’s bad luck after 12pm to pull an April fools joke?” George looked confused. “Plus Fred’s already tried that one. You need to get your ideas straight.” I huffed and walked off to the kitchen, asking if Molly needed any help and to my relief she did. 
George stormed upstairs to his and Fred’s room. “What the hell, Fred?!” 
Fred turned from where he was sat on his bed to look at his brother. George looked livid. His face was red and his nostrils flared. “What?” 
“Don’t play innocent. I know you asked (y/n) out.” Fred shrugged, still throughly confused at what was happening. “You know I like her!” George looked hurt and angry and Fred began to feel bad.
“George, I didn’t-“ Fred started, sure he’d never heard George talk about (y/n) in any sort of romantic way. George gave him a glare which prompted Fred to stop talking. George laid flat on his bed and gave a groan of annoyance.
“You know this is so typical of you.” George’s irritation was clear in his tone. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you practically fall in love with every girl you meet and the one time I find the girl I want-“ George cut himself off out of anger. 
“What if I actually like her too?” Fred asked his voice raised to almost a full yell, loud enough for the people in the kitchen to hear. George scoffed at his brother before he saw Fred look guilty yet sure and defiant at the same time and George didn’t question it. Neither twin knew whether to be angry or not. 
“You do? Like seriously?” George’s voice was sceptical, it was the biggest prank holiday after all. Fred nodded slightly angrily at his brother. George just sighed and put his head in his hands. “Okay so now what?” 
“Last time we both wanted something we did rock, paper scissors?” Fred suggested seriously, George just laughed.
“Fred that was for the last piece of bacon.” George sighed rubbing his palm over his face. “It’s not the same. (Y/n) isn’t bacon.” Fred laughed a little and they both went back to thinking how best to resolve their situation. “We could both just back off.” George suggested. Fred’s face fell a little but it was the best solution besides having me choose which wasn’t fair. The twins shook hands and made their way back downstairs to tell me.
I was in the kitchen manually chopping up some carrots when the twins both arrived looking solely at me. They dragged me away into the living area.
“Look (y/n) we wanted to apologise for earlier,” Fred started.
“Yeah it wasn’t cool. But you should know we weren’t joking as we seriously do like you.” George continued and I widened my eyes in shock.
“But too avoid any heartbreak or awkwardness we’ve decided to let you go,” Fred once more chimed in with a sad smile.
“Like a bird from a cage.” George finished their sentence and they both smiled at me but I didn’t know how to react. Maybe it was for the best to move on but I had been trying that for the past 3 years and it hadn’t worked out greatly in my favour. 
“What if I don’t want that?” I said quietly but loud enough for them both to hear. George and Fred who were just about to leave, wore matching expressions of shock making me giggle. 
“What?!” They both said in a unison of shock and confusion. I laughed a bit more loudly. 
“Well what if I dated both of you?” The twins became even more surprised before becoming more interested in my proposal.
“Go on.” Fred encouraged.
“Well the thing is, I like the both of you too, have for a while actually and although I could never choose, I haven’t been able to think about anyone else in that way since I was 13.” Fred and George blinked their eyes as though waking up from a dream, I smiled sweetly at them whilst my brain imploded with worry.
The twins looked at each other and had a silent conversation between themselves. The silence made me more and more nervous. Fred was the first to turn back to me. He shrugged his shoulders and then smiled widely as did George. “It’s worth a shot.”
I went up and kissed them both sweetly on the lips. And just as I went to leave, I looked back over my shoulder at the still shocked twins. “Oh and happy birthday.” I winked and saw them smile once more before going to the kitchen as Molly called everyone for dinner.
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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winetae · 7 years
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⇁ as the cauldron bubbles (m)
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witch!au + aphrodisiac (m) 
⚬ pairing⇁Namjoon x Reader
⚬ genre⇁smut, fluff? || witch!au, enemies to lovers
⚬ warnings⇁ dubious consent at the end bc potion, sexy times in a classroom, cumplay, dirty talk ^^
⚬ word count⇁10.2k
what makes for a potent potion? step one. in one room, gather two people who seemingly dislike each other  step two. stir in a pinch of snark and four ladles of sexual tension step three. wait until everything simmers to a boil
✘ spoopy masterlist
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a/n;  behold !! the most basic of plots ! ty amy for reading this over & telling me to post it;; ilux100
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“Kim Namjoon, you can pair up with," there's a pause while the professor sweeps the room with his beady gaze.  "_____."
The sound of your name rouses you from your slumber, "Huh?"
Eyes glassy, you slowly blink away the spots of white light that speckle your vision. Still slightly disoriented, it takes a few drawn out seconds for the world around you to come into focus.
The first thing that catches your attention is how cold you are.  
The chilling temperature makes it easy to mistake the early weeks of autumn for the dead of winter—with every inhale, cold air rushes into your lungs and drives off any remnants of your drowsiness. Your hands are painted an angry looking red, like you've just dunked them repeatedly into ice cold water, and each joint is stiff, refusing to cooperate when you will them to move. Any attempts to magically dispel the numbness in your limbs are useless; you're not capable of wrapping your frozen digits around your fountain pen, let alone your wand. Left with no other choice but to cross your arms and shove your hands under your armpits, you try to warm yourself up in the most primitive way you know.
It's only then that you notice the room you find yourself in is dank and dark, illuminated by dozens of candles that are bewitched to remain suspended in mid-air. Even the inanimate objects aren't immune to the coldness that seeps through the thick stone walls, you remark internally, watching as the tiny flames flicker wildly, seemingly perturbed by an invisible gust of wind.
The classroom could really benefit from some redecorating, you think not for the first time, eyeing the glass containers that line the walls with distaste. The pickled animals floating about in glass jars and cobweb-covered cupboards look like they’ve been untouched for centuries. The style has long been outdated but your professor is either too lazy or too sentimentally attached to his pickled salamanders to change the decor. You shake your head in disapproval.
All talks of unsettling decorations aside, how are you supposed to concentrate in class when your ears are about to fall off from the biting cold? Something should really be done about the lighting and insulation, at the very least. No one in their right minds would want to work in such drastic working conditions. It’s no wonder you have such a difficult time focusing...
Next to you, Nahyun subtly motions to the side of her mouth, the movement pulling you from your grumbled thoughts. You mirror her actions only to find you've been drooling in your sleep. Mortified, you hurry to wipe the trail of saliva on the back of your sleeve. The material is left with a damp imprint that you hastily hide away by burying your hands in the large pockets of your robe. She shoots you a disapproving look and you can tell by the way her nose upturns that she’s going to reprimand you for dozing off once class is dismissed.
You’re mentally preparing your excuse, trying to piece together a speech that will worm your way out of her scolding, when a shout of outrage drowns out the rest of the class’ whispered conversations—the sudden outcry making you jump on your stool. You twist around in your seat, eyes straining to find the source of the noise. From where you're sitting, you can only make out the side of his face, but it's enough to see the displeasure pulling at the corner of his lips.
“What? Why?” Namjoon makes a distressed sound in the back of his throat.
The professor heaves a long-suffering sigh, suddenly looking like his wrinkles have deepened in the span of ten seconds. He levels Namjoon with a stern expression, arms crossed over his chest. If not for the spectacles that slowly slide down the bridge of his nose, he probably would have successfully intimidated his student with his show of authority.  
“I’d rather work with Jung than her.” The muscles on his face are strained, his expression stiff. 
Ignoring the way your insides tangle at his tone, you hiss out his name, offended. Admittedly, your grades aren’t impressive, but unlike Jung Hoseok, your concoctions have never sent anyone to the hospital.
While it's true your potions have made testers sick on occasion, your mishaps haven't been nearly as bad as Hoseok's. And, okay, while the incident with Minhee had been unfortunate (no one would voluntarily want a set of spiral horns to grow on their head), the damage certainly hadn't been irreversible or life threatening. Wouldn’t one take the temporary horns over whatever poisonous mixture Hoseok is capable of brewing?
As if to spite you, Hoseok chooses that moment to turn around in his seat and shoot you a smirk. He apparently doesn't care if Namjoon insults him in passing, so long as he's not branded as the worst student. Fighting down the overwhelming urge to throw dragon dung fertilizer in his face, you curl your fists at your sides, already thinking of three different hexes to try out on him.
How could Namjoon prefer to work with the certified class clown? When had your reputation taken such a hit? You can’t help but feel like you’ve been defamed and your blood boils at the injustice of it.
"Kim Namjoon." This time there is no mistaking the edge in the professor's voice—his warning razor sharp. "You will work on this month's assignment with _____."
The finality in his tone leaves no room for discussion, and even the dim lighting can't hide the way Namjoon visibly wilts in his seat, reluctantly accepting his fate.
Nodding in satisfaction, the professor resumes his task, pairing up the last few students that have yet to be called. As the rest of the names are droned out, you stew silently in your seat, fixing Namjoon’s figure with incredulity. Through it all, he hasn’t even looked at you once. Something about that irritates you, like a bug bite that demands to be itched.
You wish someone had asked for your opinion, because as far as you’re concerned, you’re equally displeased with this arrangement. For as long as you've known him, Kim Namjoon has always kept to himself. He says he prefers it this way, but you think it's because no one has the patience to deal with his obnoxious personality. Namjoon is smart, yes, but he's so far up his own ass that it makes it hard to be around him for long periods of time. After all, no one wants to befriend people who constantly reiterate how much better they are than you.
Although...maybe this is just from your perspective. Despite all the flaws you find in him, you’re not deaf to the gossip that surrounds him. According to the whispers you’ve overheard, his aloofness only adds to his ‘mysterious charm’.
Your nostrils flare as a snort escapes you. What a load of toad’s spit. There’s no doubt in your mind when you say Namjoon is as charming as one of the pickled bats in the shelved glass jars. How could anyone find him attractive? He never has anything positive to say—unless it’s about himself. His confidence borders on arrogance and you’re not sure why anyone would find that appealing.
The space between your brows creases as you ponder the question, your gaze set on his side profile.
Well, you suppose that from an objective and impartial point of view, his proportions are nice. He has broad shoulders and long legs, plush lips and a set of dimples you would find adorable if they belonged to anyone else but him. There’s also no denying that he’s scary smart. When he answers questions in class, you can’t help but grudgingly respect him.
It’s such a shame that his brusque personality overshadows all of his good traits because he has a lot of things going for him.
It also wouldn’t be a lie to say that your dislike for him stems from the fact that he seems to hate you for no justifiable reason. It’s not like you’re being delusional and making this up—his earlier adamant refusal to work with you proves that he isn’t your biggest fan. In your opinion, Namjoon’s hostility is unwarranted as you’ve never exchanged more than a few words with him. What have you ever done to make him dislike you? Whenever you accidentally make eye contact with him, he never fails to scowl in your direction, like your mere presence offends him.
So it’s no surprise that his behavior rubs you the wrong way. Who is he to pass judgement on you? You know your grades are far from piercing the top tenth percentile, but it's not for lack of trying... It’s upsetting that he would determine your worth based off some grade. You don't know what preconceived notions he has of you, but you're determined to prove to him that you're not a slacker and you're more than willing to pull your own weight.
With this thought in mind, you waste no time shoving your belongings into your bag once the lesson is over, eager to get a word with him before the next period begins. Your notes crinkle as you stuff them away, a bottle of ink almost spilling all over your textbook, but your attention is only focused on Namjoon who has already one foot out the door.
“Where are you going?” Nahyun asks from beside you.
“I’ll see you later after dinner.” It’s not really an answer, but she accepts it with a wave of her hand.
You swing your bag over your shoulder, uncaring whether or not the contents get knocked over in the process. Mumbling excuses while pushing aside the students in front of you, you’re careful not to bump into any fragile classroom equipment on your way out.
Outside, the corridor is already busy with students rushing to their next lesson. There’s a short moment of panic when you can’t spot him among the throng of students. Worried that you’ve missed your chance, your shoulders slump forward in defeat, but the worry soon deflates within you once you spot his figure rounding the corner.
Breaking into a sudden jog, your bag flaps by your side as you run, bumping against the bodies in your way.
“So, when are we starting?” You pant out as you reach him, drawing his attention to your slightly disheveled appearance.
There's an easy smile on your face—one that's intended to look inviting and friendly. The purpose is to show that you’re not holding any grudges against him and that you’re ready to leave everything he’s said in the past. A proverbial olive branch, so to speak.
Regrettably, he doesn't seem to take note of your efforts. He stops and gives you a once over, eyes lingering on your bulging bag—still open, messy contents on display.
“There is no we,” Namjoon hurries to correct, adjusting the bridge of his glasses as he does. Your curious gaze tracks the movement, following the slope of his nose, until finally your eyes meet his coffee brown ones.
From up close, you can almost discern the different shades of brown in his irises. It’s an interesting mix of colors that reminds you of ground coffee beans and the fallen leaves that dust the ground outside. For a short moment, there is silence—Namjoon stills as you examine him, his expression impenetrable—but the moment is broken when the light overhead is reflected on the frame of his glasses, easily distracting you.  
“Why do you wear those?” The filter between your mouth and thoughts doesn’t seem to be functioning correctly, and the question leaves your lips before you have time to stop yourself.
He makes a noncommittal noise in response, either not understanding your question or not bothering to deign it with an answer. You reckon it's probably the latter, but that still doesn't stop you from rephrasing your question for clarification's sake.
“Why do you wear those glasses if they don’t have lenses?”
There's genuine curiosity laced in your tone, your gaze fixed on the odd accessory like it's the most interesting sight you've laid your eyes on all week. And in a way, it is. You’re not sure if that’s a testament to how uneventful your life has been lately, but you choose not to dwell on the facts.
“It’s called fashion.” He spares you a condescending look, “Although, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
You hum, your shoulders raising into a shrug. He’s probably right about that one...  A glance down at your outfit reminds you that you’re wearing mismatched socks again—the gaudy, orange colored sock clashing with your pink, polka-dotted clad foot. At least your feet are warm, you pout, wiggling your toes in your shoes. You think it looks kind of cute! But then again, you have the color vision of a mole, so your opinion probably doesn’t count for much.
Your head snaps back up when you realize he’s walked away, leaving you standing in the middle of the corridor, mismatched socks and all.
Rude. Of course he would be the type to walk away mid-conversation.
“You never answered my question!” Huffing, you do your best to catch up, your legs struggling to match his pace.
Damn it, why does he have to have such long legs? You curse silently. One stride of his is probably equivalent to two steps from you, and you’re starting to think he wants you to break into a sweat when he suddenly quickens his gait.
“I don’t know how to be any more explicit,” he says, slowly coming to a halt before rounding on you. You instinctively take a step back, slightly overwhelmed by the way his frame towers over yours. From this distance, he looks more intimidating than before.
“I’ll do the project myself. Don’t even worry about it. Go do..." There's a slight pause as he chews the inside of his cheek, unable to come up with an answer. "Whatever it is you do, and just let me handle things on my own, understood?”
Your forehead wrinkles, confusion written plainly on your face. You're not sure if you understand what he's trying to say so you repeat back the words, your mind whizzing as it tries to process everything.
“Um—what? On your own? But we’re supp—”
“Look.” Impatience mixed with frustration reads on his face, his handsome features twisting into a scowl. “The assignment is worth a third of our entire grade. I can’t let you ruin that. So stay out of it.”
“But—”
“You want to pass this class, don’t you? I’m offering to do all of the work. Free of payment. Without any stipulations.” His sentences are clipped, his curt speech leaving you no openings to respond.
Taking your shocked silence for an answer, he gives you a short nod before bustling away to his next class.
Frozen, your mouth opens to call after him but no sound comes out. You’re sure you look like the fool he thinks you are, though you can’t bring yourself to care. It’s infuriating how little he thinks of you and how easy it is for him to disregard you. Does he believe you to be that incompetent? Or does he just think too highly of himself? Either way, you hate how he never lets you prove yourself  when you deserve at least that much.
The frustration that boils inside of you is what ultimately steels your resolve.  
As much as you want to work on the potion on your own and show him how capable you are, you’re painfully aware of your own limits. You have half a mind to leave him be and deal with the consequences of his arrogance but as he so kindly reminded you, the project is worth a crucial third of your grade. Realistically speaking, your grades can’t afford to suffer from any schemes of revenge. That’s why despite wanting Namjoon to regret his every decision, you convince yourself that it would be better to try to work with him instead of against him. Besides, the potion isn’t designed to be completed alone. You know that no matter how smart Namjoon has proven to be in the past, he won’t be able to finish everything on his own.
However, this proves to be easier said than done.
Getting Namjoon to see things from your perspective would be a thousand times easier if he would just stop ignoring you. He’s not even subtle about it; whenever he sees you approaching him, he turns on his heels and quickens his pace.
How are you supposed to work with him if he runs away at the mere sight of you? You blow a lock of hair away from your face as he once again manages to escape before you reach him. Namjoon’s lean legs are too much to go up against... At this rate, you wonder if you’ll even be able to talk to him before the end of the month is over.
It’s more tedious than expected, but you manage to intercept him in front of the library after lunch. You don’t miss the look that flashes across his features, but you choose not to comment on the displeasure your arrival brings him. It’s not like you've been looking forward to talking to him again, either. Truthfully, you would rather entertain a conversation with a brick wall than have to tolerate his presence.
Talking to him is but a small sacrifice in the grand scheme of things. Think of your grade, you remind yourself as you swallow down the lump of nerves in your throat. For some reason you can’t make sense of, your heart stutters nervously in your chest. Dismissing the flip-flopping in the pit of your stomach, you attribute the jitters to your dislike for him.
“It’s important,” you stress, grabbing the sleeve of his robe as he tries to retreat. He freezes, his gaze fixed on the firm grip that encloses his arm. The intensity of his stare is unsettling and you’re consequently forced to relent.
Slowly, you unclench your fingers, the slide of the fabric smooth against your skin as you let your hand fall to your side. “Stop avoiding me.”
“I’m not,” he denies too quickly for you to believe him. “What is it? I’m busy.”
You bite down your retort before a snarky remark spills from your lips. No matter how much you want to give him a piece of your mind, the objective of this conversation isn’t to antagonize each other. Trying not to lose sight of your initial goal, you do your best to remain civil despite him making it abundantly clear that you’re just a nuisance to him.
“We need to divide the work we have to do so that we can complete the assignment on time. The more you put this off, the less time we’ll have.”
“I’m doing it on my own so stop worrying about it.” There’s no denying the patronizing tone in his voice but you choose to sidestep it like everything else.
"Don't be ridiculous. It's a group project," you insist, unyeielding. "We're supposed to work together. I know you're smart Namjoon, but there's no possible way you can gather all the ingredients and make the potion on time by yourself."
Last you’ve checked, there are well over forty ingredients that are needed for this and a good dozen of them have to be prepared at least two weeks before the day of brewing. If he chooses to go down the solo route, he’ll be shooting himself in the foot. He’s smart enough to know this, too.
There's a reason you've been paired off in groups of two, after all. Namjoon’s intellectually gifted brain does not come with an extra set of arms. He needs you, even if his pride can’t handle verbally admitting so.
Namjoon's bottom lip juts out as if he means to voice his dissent but he ends up pursing his lips with a resigned expression. You have to bite down your triumphant grin (although you know you haven't done a gone job hiding your expression of satisfaction if the leveled look he aims your way is any indication).
“Don’t make me regret this,” he finally sounds out, acting like he’s the one doing you the world’s biggest favor. You’re tempted to call his bluff but hold yourself back from doing so. “Meet me in the library at eight after dinner.” Namjoon shifts his weight from foot to foot, looking like he would rather be anywhere but here. He adds as an afterthought, “Don’t be late.”
“I won’t!” You chirp out after him, a toothy smile on your face as your heart swells with elation.
As soon as you realize how much his grudging acceptance means to you, you stop in your tracks. Since when do his words hold that much importance? You don’t care about what he thinks in the least. You’re just glad because his agreement to work with you means that you’ve won the battle.
In truth, you’re surprised he hadn’t put up more of a fight. Considering that his stubbornness is second only to his arrogance, he let himself be persuaded with more ease than expected...
“It’s because of my feminine wiles,” you’re quick to inform Nahyun during dinner. “He couldn’t resist me.”
“Mmh, sure. Whatever you say.”
“Are you even listening to me?” A piece of broccoli lands on the table as you spit out your words.
She spares you a disdainful look, dabbing the sides of her mouth with her napkin, “I really wish you wouldn’t talk with your mouth full.”
As an apology, you make a show of gulping down the food stuffed in your mouth. You immediately regret doing so when some vegetable gets stuck in your throat in the process. Next to you, Risa pats your back as you try to cough the burn away.
“Do you even chew your food? How do you even fit all of that in your mouth...” She sneers, unimpressed. “Your cheeks are like fucking pockets or something. Like a chipmunk.”  
“Maybe that’s why Namjoon wanted to work with you,” Risa giggles mischievously, dodging when you try to hit her arm. You accept the glass of water she hands you with a glower. “He wants to see those skills for himself.”
“Stop that.” You elbow her side for emphasis, drawing a hiccuping sound from her lips. “I wouldn’t let Namjoon near me. Not even if we were the last two living beings on Earth.”
Your friend snorts loudly, not convinced by your words at all.
“When she’s not sleeping, she’ll make goo-goo eyes at him during class.” Nahyun’s voice chimes in. 
“I do not!” You protest hotly, betrayed, and proceed to stab a carrot with your fork to vent your frustration. “There’s a difference between plotting his downfall and wanting to give him the suck.”
“Maybe you’re planning on sucking the life out of his balls.” The image her words conjure up makes your face turn beet-red. “Death by ejaculation.”
You’re suddenly flooded with a very graphic image of you on your knees between his legs, your hands resting on his thighs as you look up into his dark brown eyes. It’s wrong, it’s so wrong, yet that hardly puts a stop to your overactive imagination. If anything, your mind goes into a frenzy; each improper scenario begets an even more obscene one—an endless loop of obscenity.
“Your ears are red.” 
Risa raises a knowing eyebrow in your direction, your group of friends erupting into snickers when you hurry to cover them up behind your hair. 
“Leave me alone,” your moan is muffled by the hands that cover your face. 
There’s no use arguing your innocence because you know they’ll just keep on teasing you. You huff in irritation, a pout on your face. The most annoying part of it all is the fact that you’re taking their banter too seriously. 
By now, you’re sure your face is flushed scarlet. You pat your cheeks, feeling the heat radiate off of them as you do. Why are you letting yourself get so worked up over this? Usually, you laugh off these jokes easily but for some reason you can’t pinpoint, the mention of Namjoon’s name has you losing your cool.
You just hope that you’ll be more composed in Namjoon’s presence because the last thing you want is for him to get the wrong idea... His ego would only inflate to immeasurable proportions if he thought that you got easily flustered around him. And that’s just something you won’t allow because contrary to whatever your friends might insinuate, you’re definitely not attracted Namjoon. He just happens to be smart and good looking, which is always a welcome combination but certainly not enough for you to be swayed over to the dark side. 
Thankfully by the time eight o’clock rolls around, you’ve shaken off all indecent thoughts. You march into the library, head held high, determined to show your friends how wrong they are. Weaving through the different rows of bookshelves, you’re careful to duck whenever a heavy volume whizzes past you through thin air whenever they’re summoned. You finally find Namjoon hidden away in the reference section of the library. His body is hunched over a thick tome, his fingers mindlessly flicking through the yellowing pages of text.
Namjoon nods in acknowledgement, pushing a dusty looking manual in your direction, “This one has a list of common ingredients used in ritualistic magic. I bookmarked page 546. You’ll find information on magical herbs used in any healing draught by skimming the chapter.”
He puts you to work at once, and justifiably so; there’s a lot of groundwork to cover before you can start making the potion. This particular assignment requires you to figure out the exact measurements that are needed as well as the time of preparation and fermentation of each ingredient. It’s a combination of theory, math, and in-depth knowledge of astronomy and the effects of the moon on the tides. There are a lot of calculations involved that make use of the lunar calendar and the position of the Jupiter, requiring complex formulas you rarely use. 
It’s hard. And more than once you want to groan out loud and pull at your hair in despair, but the knowledge that Namjoon is here has you swallowing any complaints. You would hate to hear him spit out, ‘I knew working with you was a waste of time,’ so with that in mind, you redouble your efforts.
The pair of you work in silence—the only sounds that can be heard are the scribbling of pen on paper and the sound of pages being flipped when you search for the necessary information. Immersed in your work, you don’t pay any attention to the world outside your self-made bubble. 
From time to time, Namjoon pauses to crack his knuckles, his gaze drifting towards your working form. He takes note of how you chew the cap of your pen when you stop to think, your brows furrowed as you concentrate. Seeing you so committed for once throws him off-guard; he can’t recall you being this focused in class—all you ever do is get into trouble by your professors for sleeping or daydreaming when you shouldn’t be.
It’s nearing midnight when his chair creaks as he gathers to his feet. Rubbing your eyes in fatigue, you watch him put away his textbooks and papers with longing, wishing that you too could pack up your stuff and call it a night. 
“You aren’t leaving?” He glances down at you when he notices you haven’t budged from your seat. “It’s late.”
“Not yet. I have to finish this for tomorrow.” You direct a glare at your worksheet you still need to read over and complete. “I’ll be here for a while.”
To your surprise, he leans down to examine the papers himself, propping one arm on the table and the other one on the back of your chair. 
Namjoon hums while leafing through the stack of papers, “Ah. The magical properties of the Mandragora root and its uses in potions... We went over this in class last month, do you remember? Following Levi’s teachings, the root needs to be dug up on the day of the moon for it to be the most potent. Preferably after the vernal equin—” 
But you can barely hear him over the thrumming of your heart. All you can focus on is the way he crowds your personal space, leaving you no room to breathe. His face is way too close. Try as you might, but it’s damn near impossible to listen to his explanation when his sudden near proximity has your mind reeling. 
He smells of sea salt, ginger lilies, and...something else you can’t quite identify. The bizarre blend of fragrances should have you pulling away, but instead you find yourself drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Before you do something ridiculous—like lean in closer to have a proper whiff of him—you turn your head away to stare at the words he’s pointing at on the worksheet. The sentences in front of you all blur together to form an inky block of text and you don’t realize you’re spacing out until the sound of a sigh snaps you out of your reverie.
“You’re not listening.” 
Your gaze flits up to meet his and you have the decency to shrug sheepishly. He taps the worksheet with his finger, redirecting your attention to the material you need to learn before the night is over.
“Can you even recall who Levi is?” Namjoon levels you with an expectant stare and you flounder, your mind momentarily at a blank.
“Um,” your eyes shift to your textbook, hoping that the book could provide the answer. “He was a French occultist.” The response isn’t as detailed or lengthy as you would have hoped to give him, but he nods right away, his lips quirked into a small smile. 
“That’s right. His methods are now obsolete, most of them proven false, but his works on transcendental magic perfectly exemplify the ceremonial magic that was popular in Europe during the nineteenth century.”
Namjoon’s voice drones on, the words failing to sink in. It’s not that you don’t make an effort to be more attentive, but your mind is just too preoccupied with other thoughts for you to concentrate on his impromptu lesson. 
Why hasn’t he pulled back yet? He’s so close that you can practically feel his chest vibrate whenever he speaks and it makes you wonder if he’ll stay perched next to you for much longer. How does he expect you to listen to him when he’s so darn close?
When you risk a glance at his face, your gaze can’t help itself from perusing his features. Your eyes flit from one beauty mark to another, lingering briefly on a faint scar near his eyebrow before trailing down to observe the way the muscles in his jaw work when he talks. 
It takes a second too long for you to realize he’s saying your name, but when you do, you meet his piercing stare with flushed cheeks. Embarrassment colors your face red because you’ve been caught staring. You can’t even play it off, your ogling too blatant to be ignored.
He says your name again, his voice low and so pleasing it makes you want to melt in your seat, and you gulp nervously, ignoring how quickly your heart jumps at the sound. Even as you try to appear collected, you already know it’s a lost battle. Knowing how observant he is, there’s honestly no use hoping he hasn’t noticed how distracted you are.
The air around you suddenly seems heavy, charged with tension. There’s a dryness in your throat that makes you yearn for a glass of water. You wait for him to say something more, but all Namjoon does is stare at you, his face not giving any of his thoughts away. The scrutiny makes you feel bare and exposed, like he’s dissecting your every reaction, and it takes everything in you not to shy away from him.
“Are you...” He trails off, letting his unfinished sentence hang in the air. You find it difficult to look away from him, especially when he’s peering at you so intently.
While you wait for him to continue, his face inches closer to yours. His movements are so slow that you even find yourself wondering if it’s just a product of your imagination. But as more time passes, all traces of doubt are erased. He’s impossibly close now. You just aren’t sure if it’s intentional or not... Either way, the nearness makes your head spin. 
It’s only then that you realize how he’s practically caging you between his arms. You’re so flustered you don’t know what to do with yourself. Pinned to your seat, you have nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. There’s definitely no mistaking how much closer he is to you now than before; maybe it’s in all in your head, but you swear you can feel his breath ghost over your skin. 
What is he...?
Blood rushes to your eardrums and you swallow thickly, expectant. In hindsight, you'll ask yourself why you let your eyes close, but in the moment all you do is hope the pounding in your chest isn’t loud enough for him to hear. 
But nothing happens. 
Namjoon makes an awkward coughing sound that has your eyes blinking open in confusion. 
“Er, I’m going to head on to sleep.” You notice at once that he refuses to meet your gaze. “I’ll see you tomorrow, same time.”
You watch him take his leave with a twinge of disappointment in your chest. Shaking your head, you do your best to rationalize your conflicting emotions but the answer you come up with is so preposterous that you dismiss it at once. Honestly, what’s gotten into you? How could you let yourself get this this way? It’s late and you’re just sleep deprived, you convince yourself.
Still, there’s no shaking off the embarrassment you feel whenever you relive the moment before he said his goodbye. Even days later, you’ll catch yourself thinking about it only to bury your head in your arms with a groan. You don’t even want to imagine what Namjoon thinks of you now. 
To distract yourself, you launch yourself in your work with determined focus. After checking over the calculated measurements with Namjoon, you both set out to collect the necessary ingredients for the elixir. In your zeal, you end up gathering a greater quantity than strictly needed. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but when you show the fruits of your labor to Namjoon, all he does is scold you for wasting ingredients instead of acknowledging your efforts.
It doesn’t sadden you. It doesn’t. 
"I guess substituting salamander blood for dragon blood was a bad idea."
"You. Idiot."
"Shut up, okay. I know I fucked up, y'don't have to rub it in." You mull over your limited choices, trying not to get swayed by the panic that rises inside of you. 
In your attempt to salvage the situation, you add a pinch of powdered moonstone into the simmering potion and hope for the best. Namjoon’s hand is too slow to stop you from doing so—your name spilling from his lips in warning a second too late.
Time seemingly slows down.
You watch the dust sprinkle down into the cauldron in a whirl of white, the sight but a crude imitation of winter snow. They fall through the air softly before speckling the mulberry colored substance and dissolving into the mixture.
The reaction is instantaneous; the fire under the cauldron crackles ominously as the contents slosh around, bubbling to a boil and threatening to spill over. You peer down at the mixture, trying to assess how badly you’ve messed up—yet again—when a cloud of smoke puffs into your face without forewarning. You sputter into the potion, feeling the vapor seep into your lungs smoothly like liquid silk.
Namjoon yanks you away from the cauldron by the collar as the lavender colored fumes suddenly veil your vision, making your eyes water from the unexpected sting. You can feel the weight of his glare on the side of your face, but you wisely chose to ignore it, still hacking in an unattractive manner. 
The tang of honey and wildberries is heavy on your tongue, the flavor stuck in the back of your throat like a strong aftertaste that refuses to be washed down. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, the palms of your hand sticky with a thin layer of sweat.  A warm tingling spreads from your mouth to your lungs—the feeling so intense you feel like you’ve just swallowed the strongest shot of single malt whisky. It’s so distracting that you barely register the grumbling beside you.
"Three hours, ____. Three hours of our work now down the drain because someone here made an elementary mistake."
"It's—" The sentence is cut off, silenced by a growl.
"I don't want to hear your excuses!"
"We still have time left," you say feebly, feeling yourself shrink in his presence. You can physically sense the intensity of his glare; your skin prickles under the weight of it.
"Not nearly." Namjoon snaps, his jaw clenched. “Can’t you do anything right?”
He then proceeds to shake his head, laughing to himself like he can’t believe what’s just happened. Your stomach sinks at the sound of his disappointment, your chest constricting all the more because of the look of exasperation he aims your way. 
Tears well up in your eyes as you realize the scope of the damage. So much effort you had put in gone to waste... How are you ever going to be able to rectify your mistake? You need to pass this class if you want to finish your studies and start your apprenticeship. All of your future plans will be pushed back because of your carelessness. 
“I’m sorry,” is all you can say. 
“Are you seriously going to cry?”
You try to deny his accusation but your pathetic sniffle gives you away. Normally you wouldn’t be this emotional, but tonight you’re feeling particularly sensitive. Maybe it’s your time of the month. Hormones or not, there’s no dismissing the heaviness that sits in your chest, restricting your every breath. 
To your horror and embarrassment, two big, fat tears trail down your cheeks and you have to clench your eyes shut to prevent anymore from spilling out. Namjoon is visibly taken aback from the intensity of your reaction and he pauses, unsure of what to do. All his anger seems to melt away, instead replaced with concern.
“Hey,” he says, crossing the space between you with a single stride. “Let’s not cry, okay?”
“I just,” your bottom lip trembles as you hiccup, “I, I ruined everything.”
He hushes your wail, his hand coming up to prevent you from talking any further. You look up at him through watery eyes, confusion twisting your expression. 
“No more of that. I’m so—” He avoids your inquisitive gaze, his palm still pressed your mouth. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. And it’s, it’s not your fault. It’s unfair to place the blame on you when I was in charge of checking over our inventory before starting the brew. I, um, and besides, there’s no point in dwelling on this. It’s now a thing of the past. I’m not mad at you but I will be if you keep shedding tears over something like this.”
Namjoon tries to sound stern but you’ve been spending so much time with him that you can see right through his act. He only lets his hand fall from the bottom half of your face once you nod your assent. The limb hangs awkwardly between the two of you until he shoves it away in his pocket. 
“I am sorry,” you manage to croak out softly when you’ve finally pulled yourself together. “I shouldn’t have been that hasty.”
“I told you it’s in the past now.” He shrugs in an attempt to act cool about it. “We just need to work hard on the rest. I guess all the ingredients you over-stocked on will prove to be useful, after all.”
You slowly let yourself be convinced by his words and redirect your focus on the potion. There’s no use moping about when you could be using that time to finish the assignment. You only have three days left until the full moon appears which is when you have to distill the brew. 
And while, yes, you could have gone without having a repeat of steps 13 through 28, there’s noticeably less tension between you and Namjoon this time around. Namjoon seems more relaxed around you, coming over to monitor your progress from time to time. You’re not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want you to break into tears once more, but he’s careful not to be curt with you. 
The extra amount of care, no matter how small, has you feeling warm and fuzzy inside. You welcome the attention he gives you with open arms. A small voice in the back of your head whispers something about how you shouldn’t be giving in so easily, but you pay her no heed. 
You’re cutting up bat wings when you feel it—a sudden shiver runs down your spine and has you standing straight up like you’ve just been shocked. Namjoon gives you a curious glance once he notices how you’ve frozen in place, knife still suspended in mid-air.
“You alright there?”
“Mm,” you nod, your confusion evident by the way you furrow your brows. “Just—ah, nothing. There must be a cold draft somewhere.”
Both of you go back to work but there’s a niggling sensation in your lower belly that makes your vision blur at the edges. You don’t realize you’ve minced up your bat wing into unusable smithereens until it’s too late. For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to care. This should have been your first warning but somehow you fail to notice that something isn’t right.
The determination you felt at first slowly dwindles. Your eyes turn glassy and unfocused, your heart rate speeding up without any prompting. There’s a tingling warmth that envelops your body from head to toe, similar to the feeling you get after you drink several glasses of mead. You feel lightheaded all of a sudden, your body too warm for your three layers of clothes.
A clattering noise pierces through the fog in your mind. You turn your attention to Namjoon who is rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. From this distance, you think you can spot sweat beading at his hairline. 
“It’s hot in here, isn’t it?” You don’t expect your voice to come out breathy, almost seductive. 
Namjoon’s head shoots up at the sound, his eyes zoning in on your figure. It’s then that you notice how big his pupils have become; even in the poor lighting, you can see his eyes darkening as the seconds tick by. 
The pools of black betray his growing arousal, and to your dismay, you find that you are equally affected. You’re short of breath, hands clammy with sweat, heart pounding so hard that you’re scared your ribcage won’t be able to contain it. 
Namjoon says your name cautiously, his eyes widening as he does, “You added moonstone into the potion, didn’t you?”
“Y-yeah. Why?” As comprehension dawns on him, you fidget anxiously, trying to decipher what the realization implies. 
You’re afraid that you’ve messed up some way, somehow, again. When he fails to answer right away, you make an impatient sound in the back of your throat, too tired for games. 
“What are the uses of moonstone in potions?” 
“Why can’t you just tell me?” You whine, frustration making its way into your voice. Now really isn’t the time for a tutoring session. 
“They’re used in love potions, primarily. But also in aphrodisiacs. I think the moonstone powder must have reacted to the crushed rose thorns we added earlier.” Sweat drips down his brow as he speaks and you can’t help yourself from wiping it off with the sleeve of your robe. Namjoon gulps, his adam’s apple bobbing up, before continuing, “You only added a pinch so I think whatever fumes we inhaled will be flushed out of our systems pretty quickly.”
“I accidentally made a sex potion?” your mouth drops open as his words settle in. 
“An aphrodisiac,” he corrects automatically. “That’s why, um, you’re turned on right now.”
“I’m not turned on!” 
Namjoon glances down at your chest quickly, like he can’t help himself, and you follow his gaze. A wave of shame crashes over you when you notice your nipples are erect and poking through your clothes. Just how fucking hard are they to be showing through your bra and jumper? You cross your arms self-consciously but the action only draws more attention to them. Your ears burn with embarrassment. 
“It’s okay,” reassures Namjoon. “It’s normal, I know this is just a bodily reaction to a stimulus and that it doesn’t hold any meaning. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”
“Uh.” You know he’s just trying to make you feel at comfortable, but you can’t help but feel bad about it all. Because he’s wrong. You know...that even without having inhaled the fumes, you’ve been entertaining thoughts you really shouldn’t be having about him. For two long weeks, you’ve tried to ignore the filthy images that are planted in your mind, but this damned concoction is bringing them all back to the forefront of your mind until all you can think of is Namjoon’s long fingers and large palms, his long legs, his soft looking lips... Your imagination runs wild with an infinite number of scenarios, each more salacious than the last.
Maybe aphrodisiacs make you lose your rationality because you can’t stop yourself from saying, “What if it does hold meaning?” 
Namjoon is smart enough to catch the implication of your words but he still freezes, tilting his head like he doesn’t quite understand what you’re hinting at. 
“I’ve thought about you before,” you confess in a small voice. Something in your chest leaps as you try to gauge his reaction.
He licks his lips then, and you can’t tell if he’s deep in thought or if this revelation excites him. 
“H...ow?” he finally asks, voice low and hoarse. The sound instantly shoots straight to your core. You want to hear it croon in your ear. You reckon you could listen to him talk all day about nineteenth century ceremonial magic but only if he keeps talking in that specific tone. “Ah, I thought so... Back in the library, that night... But you’re always so cold with me, I thought I had perhaps read the signs wrong...”
His dimples poke out as he laughs in disbelief. “All this time, I thought I had made things awkward between us because I projected my fee—”
You put an end to his rambling with a kiss. 
It’s not as smooth as you imagine it to be in your end; there’s some fumbling around as you try to match your heights. You wobble on the tips of your toes in order to reach him, but he easily leans down to accommodate you. Namjoon’s large hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer to his body. His lips feel softer than you imagined them to be and you feel your body melting into his. When he kisses you back, it’s like a current of electricity zaps through you. The fiery sensation from earlier comes back in full force, your insides knotting with pleasure. 
Every heated kiss has you wanting more. You’re insatiable, your thirst a long way from being quenched. Namjoon seems to understand your needs right away and he nips your bottom lip, his tongue licking into your mouth. 
Your body vibrates, hot all over. A pleased purr makes its way to your lips and Namjoon eagerly swallows up the sound. 
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” he whispers hotly against your mouth. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? We can stop now.”
“Don’t you dare,” you hiss, your fingers clutching onto his clothes, refusing to let him go. It would be the ultimate cruelty to leave you hanging now. “I want you now.”
“Here?” Namjoon chances a glance around the room, wondering if it was worth the risk. 
“On the desk,” you pant, breath cut short. Desire pumps through your veins and you feel high off the feeling. He hurries to comply to your wishes, hoisting you up onto the cleared desk with no visible difficulty. 
The fog thickens, your vision focusing solely on Namjoon and the trail of fire each touch brings. You expect Namjoon to be patient and take his time with you, but he ruins that particular fantasy when he tugs your tights and underwear off in one go. 
He spreads your legs open so he can have a better look. Your gaze never leaves his face, more interested in his reactions. He doesn’t disappoint; you watch him groan to himself, his hand reaching down to briefly palm the front of his slacks. You track the movement, only to bite your lip when the sight arouses you further. The bulge in his pants looks so inviting you instinctively outstretch your hands for a feel, but Namjoon swats your hands away in disapproval. 
Whatever complaint you have dies in your throat as soon as his fingers touch your core. It doesn’t take much on his part for wetness to gather on his digits. 
“This okay?” You nod in response because fuck, yeah.
There’s no drawn out foreplay; he hones in on your sensitive spot right away, intent on drawing out your moans and whimpers. He circles your clitoris with single-minded focus. His hungry stare eyes the way you glisten for him with such intensity, you’re convinced he’s seconds away from devouring you with his gaze alone. The heat of his stare makes you squirm harder against the stroking of his fingers. 
Tiny whimpers escape you before you have time to subdue them. But honestly, who could blame you? Under his skilled ministrations, just how are you supposed to stay silent? 
You’re losing your mind, is your last coherent thought before lust eats away at your insides. All that runs through your mind is a constant loop of Namjoon, Namjoon, Namjoon. You chant his name repeatedly as if your vocabulary consists of only that one word. 
“So pretty like this,” he awes, panting. “You smell so fucking good, I’ll definitely have a taste of that pussy later.”
Your mind barely registers that there’s going to be a round two, when he sits down in the professor’s chair, and pulls you into his lap.
“Pull my cock out,” he coaxes, his hands reaching to discard your sweater. You shiver when you feel his fingers ghost over your bare skin. “I want you to stuff yourself with my hard cock until you’re full.”
There’s no real thinking on your part; it’s as if he’s saying the words you want to hear. Even through the material of his slacks, his hardness is deliciously thick, and you can’t help but imagine how good the stretch will feel inside of you. Your mouth waters from anticipation. Belly taut with excitement, you pull down his zipper and reach for his erection. 
He’s smooth and hard in your hands. Stroking the head of his cock with a curled fist, you relish in the sounds of his throaty moans—the throbbing in your clit erasing all coherent thoughts from your head, leaving it blissfully blank. Your body immediately reacts to his arousal, the sound, sight and smell too much for you to handle. You rut in his lap, already desperate for friction—the pace is frantic, the movements clumsy. It’s not enough. A hiccuping sound leaves your parted lips as you try to relieve yourself. 
“Go ahead,” Namjoon chuckles, a hand on the small of your back. “Take what’s yours.”
The words have you keening, and you impatiently lift yourself up to your knees so you can line his thickness at your entrance. You’re so wet, fluids trickling down your inner thighs, that the head of his shaft slips, bumping into your clit as it rubs against your flesh. After failing repeatedly to relieve yourself, you whine low in your throat, frustrated. 
Taking pity on you, Namjoon stills your hips with one hand and guides his thick member with the other. You do the rest of the work, the growing need between your thighs almost unbearable at this point. When his erection finally slides in home, you can’t help but clench around his hardness, trying to pull him deeper inside of you.
“Fuck!”  
The stretch makes your head tilt back, your eyes closing. You’ve never felt so satisfied in your life; there’s no describing how good his warm member feels as your walls close in around it, the friction everything you could have hoped for. Fingers gripping the scratchy material of his sweater, you hurry to set a rhythm that suits your needs.  
“Tight,” he rasps, mouthing at your neck, hands busy squeezing your ass. The trail of wet kisses he leaves on your neck set your skin on fire. The feeling so overwhelming, you’re not sure if you want more or not.“So fucking tight, I’m, fuck, nnghh. Oh fuck!”
You clench around him, loving the way he squeezes your ass cheeks harder, his hips thrusting up into yours with abandon. You move your hips with purpose, head tipped back, moan after moan falling from your lips. The incessant noises of pleasure seem to spur him on, Namjoon’s hips raising up to meet the fluid rolls of your hips. 
“Namjoon, you’re so good inside me, feel so good,” you bounce up and down on his lap, unable to stop yourself from moving. Every new thrust makes your sanity weaken a little more. You’re so far gone that your wanton display doesn’t even affect you. 
“Yeah? You love me fucking you, just look at you,” there’s that familiar arrogance back in his tone, but for once, it doesn’t make you want to silence him with a spell. This might be the only time you don’t mind him getting cocky... Namjoon looks so good under you, his hair matted with sweat, that you honestly don’t care. His hard shaft fills you up so nice that any other thoughts are inconsequential. 
The pleasure that simmered beneath the surface of your skin is now all consuming. You feel it bubble to a boil with every thrust inside your soaking center, and you know it’s only a matter of time before the dam breaks. Throat parched, it takes a few tries before you can properly formulate a coherent sentence. 
“I’m c-close,” you warn him, still undulating your hips. 
“Good,” he growls, his eyes darkening even more. They’re like magnets, and you find you can’t look away from his gaze. 
You don’t expect him to rise to his feet and place you on the desk again, one of his large hands cradling your head so it doesn’t bump into the hard surface of the polished wood. You blink up at the ceiling, disoriented. “I’m gonna fill you up and then you can come. Want to rub you to an orgasm with my cum, okay?”
“Mmhm,” you nod quickly, too impatient to really care who comes first or where. 
“Gonna fill you up so good,” he groans, broken. His hands roam the expanse of your bare skin with such care, as if he’s committing each curve and crevice of your body to memory. “Fuck you good like you deserve.” 
He smiles down at you with such sincerity that you don’t doubt his promise for a second. The expression is so unfamiliar on his face, so radically different from his usual cold facade, that your heart misses a beat. Your tense muscles relax as you give your trust to him. 
The sudden forceful thrust makes your eyes blow open in surprise. From this angle, he reaches deeper than before; you feel like each snap of his hips against yours robs you of breath. Each slam of his hips makes your body jostle, the desk shake; and you have to hold on to the edge of the desk to stop your body from sliding off. 
Namjoon leans over you, your body now sandwiched between the hard desk and his body. One of his hands pull down the cups of your bra before he attaches his plump lips to one of your breasts. Wet heat teases the sensitive nipple, electrifying every nerve ending. All throughout, he doesn’t break eye contact, a gleam in his gaze that has your stomach turning. The nips and licks on your sensitive skin make you cry out his name; you’re unsure if you’re asking for mercy or for more. 
The pleasure builds at an alarming rate, and you’re convinced you’re about to cum all over his cock when he suddenly buries himself deep inside you, spurting his sticky fluid all over your walls with a cry of your name. He ruts against you, hands holding your hips in place, while he milks the last of his orgasm for all it’s worth. You feel the warm sensation ooze from within, and you gasp, back arching, wishing for that extra push so you could join him. 
“Got it all inside of you,” he pulls out slowly, careful not to let his cum spill. “Are you still close?”
“Mmm,” you nod, head lolling back, lashes wet from unshed tears. But you can already feel it slipping away from you, and you want to cry from the unfairness of it all.
His fingers are quick to rectify your problem. He plays with the stickiness at your entrance, coating his long digits with his pearly sheen, and uses the fluid as lubricant. It’s messy and slippery, but he drives three fingers inside of you, his eyes observing each shift of your expression caused by every curl and thrust of his fingers.
Your mind is hazy, hips meeting his movements of their own volition. The lewd, obscene noises remind you that his cum is inside of you, mixed in with your own arousal. The knowledge makes your head spin, and your stomach knots as you imagine how fucked out you probably look right now---hair mussed, eyes glassy, skin shiny with sweat and slick.
A plea disguised as a moan rips itself from your throat. Your hands reach out for him, your fingernails digging into his flesh as you call out his name. The flare of pain he feels when you rake your nails across his skin doesn’t deter him from his goal.
“You’re doing so well, so beautiful like this.” He praises with a sigh, body still draped over yours like a warm blanket. The words make you ache. “You’re so swollen right now, so pink and swollen, all fucked up because of me, isn’t that right?” He rubs soft circles around your bundle of nerves with the hand that’s not lodged inside you. “Hm? Are you going to come for me? I want to feel you come around my fingers with my cum in your dirty pussy.”
Maybe it’s the fact that Namjoon is the one spewing such filth, but at his words, something hooks the insides your stomach and yanks hard. 
You tumble to the edge without needing further prompting, your chest thrusting forward as tremors wrack your entire frame. Heart beating to the point of bursting, your mouth falls open in a silent scream of ecstasy. The aftershocks never seem to end, the vibrations making your entire body shake with pleasure to the point of oversensitivity. An overwhelming amount of pleasure, probably enhanced by the damned potion, has your vision turning white. All other noises fade into nothing. Darkness greets you then, pulling you into its embrace until you have no other choice but to fall.
A week later, when the professor calls your name, you hand him the bottled elixir without meeting his eyes. The clear mixture glimmers through the glass when the professor holds it up to the light. 
He examines the glass bottle carefully from all angles, “You didn’t have too many problems, did you?”
There’s an short, awkward silence as the both of you look at each other not knowing what to say. You look away first, not trusting yourself to answer the question without erupting into giggles. If only he knew the truth...
“No,” Namjoon finally answers, sheepish. He shoves his hands into his pockets as if that would disguise his fidgeting. “We work well together, actually.”
“I'm so glad you managed to put aside your differences for the good of the project,” the old man beams at the pair of you, a proud smile on his face. “I knew you would be able to do it! I should pair you two up more often.”
“Ah... yes, please do.”
It takes a monumental effort not to smack the smug smirk off his face. 
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sammy-moo · 7 years
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The Hunter’s Son Pt. 8
Characters: Sam x Reader, Dean, OMC (Jonah)
Summary: During a missing childrens’ case, Sam runs into a familiar face and one that looks much like his own. Now Sam has to tackle something just as difficult as hunting: fatherhood
Words: 1,929
Warnings: Fluffles
A/N: AND WE HAVE LIFT OFF!!!!
~Series Masterlist~ 
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Sam sat in front of his laptop while Dean sat in front of a book. Sam ran off ideas of what it could be. Dean kept dismissing them but you sat on the bed completely intrigued. Some of the things he had listed were things you had yet to read up on. Jonah on the other hand seemed to pay no mind to anything but the tv. Part of you questioned why none of this peaked his curiosity, but you then dismissed the thought. He was probably listening and just pretending to pay attention to the tv. In fact, you would’ve done the same but you were too invested in this.
First it was Sam being nervous about going to Plucky’s over his fear, then it was hearing how children’s drawings came to life as killers. Then a thought crossed your mind.
“Maybe it’s a witch,” you guessed.
Dean shook his head, “Usually witches leave hex bags around. There were none at the death sites.”
Sam sighed and leaned back, “I can go back and play bad come, really lean into them.” He then rose up, heading for the bathroom.
“And?”
Sam turned in the doorway to speak to his brother again, “And when I’m done, then you watch them. So if somebody freaks out, then that’s our creep.”
“So if somebody freaks out, that’s our creep.”
“Or he’ll lead us closer and you can track him.”
“Well what’s my cover?”
Sam shrugged, “I don’t know? Hang back? Act normal?”
“I have an idea.” Their eyes fell on you, making you start to regret that you even opened your mouth. “I can go. I can take Jonah with. It’ll look normal. Just a mom new to the town who wants to take her son to Plucky’s to make some friends. No biggie. Then once someone seems off I can go after them. We both can.”
“Uh uh. Nope. Not happening sweetheart. I’m not putting you in risk of your son drawing something and killing one of us.”
You rolled your eyes, “Well do you have any better ideas to blend in Dean? I mean, come on.”
Sam sighed, giving you a pleading look. “Dean’s right… I don’t want to put you in danger because of this case.”
“Sam, I am a grown woman. I understand you worry about something happening to me, but I’m learning about all of this stuff for a reason. I want to be able to protect myself and Jonah. God I want to help the two of you. I hate just sitting around like a waiting duck. Watching tv and reading lore gets a bit tiring. I’m sure Jonah is tired of constantly doing the same. So please, let us just get out of this damn motel room to break the pattern this once? I wanna put my knowledge that I’ve learned into wagered skill.”
Sam pinched his nose, “I’m going to regret saying yes but fine. Just please, stay out of Dean’s way if he chases someone down? And Jonah, I know you’re listening bud, no drawing on any of the papers. Please?”
Jonah turned and looked to Sam, “I understand.”
Sam thanked him before shutting the door.
Dean chuckled softly, whispering so only you could hear, “You know this is gonna make him jealous.”
“I don’t see why it would? I highly doubt he still has feelings for me Dean… Besides, I’d rather not risk telling him for it to ruin what we have now…”
Dean sighed a bit and Sam stepped out.
“Let’s go.”
All of you went out and piled into the Impala, heading to Plucky’s. Once you arrived, the three of you went in before Sam.
Sam headed to the break room while you and Jonah sat at the small cafeteria area. Jonah’s eyes widened as a girl walked by with a giant slinky. The two seemed to have the same idea. He followed after Dean as he went to the prize stand. You chuckled and shook your head, not entirely surprised. But with the disappointment came their determination. Before you knew it, you and Jonah were playing ski ball. Dean however went off to check each employee that came out, even deciding to talk to a little boy.
You sighed as you kept playing the game with Jonah, the machine dispensing tickets. However the door burst open beside the ski balls and the dude in the lion costume ran out.
“Dean!”
Dean and Sam hurried out after him. After a couple of minutes they came to inform you what was going on. Dean was going to check out the boiler room and Sam was going to scout outside the house.
Sam dropped you and Jonah off at the motel, leaving you to once again read or watch tv. Jonah sat on the bed pouting.
“What’s wrong sweetie?”
“I didn’t get the slinky…”
“I know. Maybe we can go back later and get one?”
Jonah shook his head, “No… It’s okay. I can always get something cooler.”
You nodded and turned off the tv, “Alright. Well you need to get cleaned up and ready for bed.”
Jonah got up and went to the bathroom. By the time he was in the shower, Dean came in with a big grin on his face.
“Where’s Sam?”
“He’s in our room getting changed. He’s got glitter all over him from the clowns,” he snickered out. “I thought I’d bring this over. Sam got it for us but I figured Jonah would appreciate it as much as I would. Had an urge to share it with him.”
You nodded and smiled, “I’m sure he’d appreciate it. Thank you. He’s in the shower right now but I’m sure he’ll be thrilled once he’s done.”
Dean nodded, “Well if you want to drink with us, you’re more than welcome to. Got some whiskey after this crazy night.”
“Man, Sam must be really bad then. I mean, skipping beer for whiskey?”
Dean snickered as he opened the door to leave, “You’re telling me.” Dean then shut the door behind him, going next door to his and Sam’s shared room. His brother was already in sweats and a v-neck, downing a shot. “Dude how many have you had already?”
Sam winced a bit from the burn of the alcohol in his throat, making a slight whiskey face as he spoke, “Two.”
Dean shook his head and made himself some.
The two had drank a handful of shots before you came over. Sam frowned as you shut the door behind you, setting yours and their room key on the table.
“You’re leaving Jonah by himself?”
“He’ll be fine Sam. He’s next door for one. For two, he’s watching tv and laying down. And lastly, he’s got my phone with your number on speed dial.”
Sam nodded, “Right…” He took his next shot.
Dean rolled his eyes and took the bottle from his brother, making you some. “Here.”
“Thank you.” You quickly took the shot, instantly regretting it. “Oh god. Please tell me we have chasers?”
The two snickered at you.
“Oh really? When did you need chasers? You never took them in college,” teased Sam.
“That’s because I was young, stupid, and wanted to get hammered. That and I was usually too drunk to care. Oh god… Soda or something please,” you begged.
Dean smirked and handed you his glass. You took a big drink making another whiskey face.
“You dick! That’s just alcohol!”
Dean started leaning back in the chair laughing, “Keep drinking and you’ll be too drunk to care.”
You groaned and grabbed one of the beers from the mini fridge. “I’m not letting you give me another drink in my life Winchester.”
Sam snickered and watched you take the seat across from Dean at the table in front of the window.
Dean held his hands up, “Alright. I’ll just stay out of it now. Even if you beg. Just know you did it to yourself.”
You rolled your eyes as you twisted the top off, taking a sip of the cool alcohol. “Because I will regret my decisions.”
Dean chuckled and the three of you kept drinking.
You had checked on Jonah a few times to find him asleep. It had been well past one when Sam was finally at the adorable drunk stage. But Dean however abandoned the two of you to sleep in your bed in Jonah’s room. His excuse was so the two of you wouldn’t disturb him while he slept, but you knew it was to give you privacy. But there was no way in hell you were telling Sam how you felt, especially if he was drunk.
You had long since took the spot on Dean’s bed, sitting cross legged and facing Sam’s. The two of you sat there just drinking and talking about whatever came to mind. Most of it had been about Jonah through the years or college.
Sam took another swig from his cup, looking down at it in his large hands and letting out a shaky breath.
“Y/N… I have a confession to make….”
You frowned a bit as your heart dropped. Anxiety and worry began to kick in as thoughts flashed through your mind making your stomach knot up even more.
“God this is gonna sound so weird… But just seeing you again. I was an idiot. I left you for Jess when I shouldn’t have… I mean, I loved Jess and I cherished what we had. I still love her but that’s not my point. Having you back in my life and spending time with Jonah- seeing you with Jonah, I’ve realized something. Maybe what Jonah and Dean have tried convincing me is wrong, but I need you to know… If you don’t feel the same way that’s okay but…” Sam took a deep breath, his hazel eyes flickering up from his glass and into your eyes. “I have feelings for you. I may have still had them but I do.”
Did you just hear right? Did Sam really just confess his feelings to you?
Honestly, you had no idea how much time had passed. Nor did you know that your mouth was slightly hanging open.
But Sam did snap you back into that moment. His expression was turning from one of relief into fear.
“S- sorry that was… That was uncalled for. You’re just the--”
“No,” you interrupted quickly. This made him confused. “Do you really have feelings for me?” Sam awkwardly nodded his head in response. You took a deep breath and looked into his hazel eyes, “Sam, I feel the same way. God, I was upset for a while but then I realized I still liked you. Then as time wore on I tried to see other people but Jonah never approved and when you came back…. All my feelings just came rushing back and I didn’t wanna say anything. I thought you didn’t feel the same way…. Especially after everything.”
Sam practically mirrored your expression you had moments prior. However, he wasn’t in his daze as long as you had been.
He practically sprung from the bed, planting his feet onto the floor and bending down, scooping your face into his large, sweaty palms. His whiskey scented lips pressed to yours.
You melted into the kiss. His lips were as soft as you remembered them being. You gently gripped onto his wrists. Of course this made him worry and pull away slowly.
“You’re fine.”
Sam nodded and kissed your forehead. “We should get some rest… Dean will be up earlier probably.” 
Forever Tags:  @sleepywinchester, @hay-yo-its-jo, @timeforsmut, @goldenangelbloodcastiel, @because-imma-lady-assface, @growningupgeek, @abbessolute, @keelzy2, @wideawakeandwriting, @super-not-naturall, @babypieandwhiskey, @wi-deangirl77, @ilsawasanacrobat, @impala-dreamer, @becs-bunker, @inlovewithbja, @squirrel--moose--giraffe–moose–giraffe, @mistressofallthingsgeeky, @petrovadixon, @theoutlinez, @samwinjarpad
Series Tags: @the-bottom-of-the-abyss, @fonduegames,  @unstoppableangel8
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hexagonalhavoc · 5 months
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Can I request How does sado Cuddle with the reader hcs
Sado Cuddle Hc’s 
Sado is very big on physical affection, even if you’re around other people. She doesn’t get jealous very easily but she still likes to make it clear that she’s with you and you’re with her. 
She likes to kiss the top of your forehead, especially when it leaves a lipstick mark. 
She’s surprisingly gentle with you and is very good at gaging your reactions. She learns very early on in your relationship what physical affection you are and aren’t comfortable with. 
She’ll randomly take her hat off and place it on top of your head. 
I don’t think she needs to sleep very much so you’re most likely going to be the one to fall asleep during a cuddling session.
Sado is a lot stronger than she looks and she will carry you everywhere if you fall asleep. She might carry you around even if you aren’t asleep or injured.
She likes showing off to you and that includes showing how great of a lover she can be despite all of the terrible things she’s done.
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hexagonalhavoc · 1 month
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I've been thinking about this all day, but what if the reader found out all the things Sado has done?
This is interesting and depends a lot on how Y/n is. 
Realistically, I’d say that Sado would try to hide it for as long as she could but you end up finding out. You’d be horrified and things between you and her end pretty quickly. You go your separate ways but Sado never really forgets, her life becomes business as usual but she’ll always be a little heartbroken about how things turned out but she isn’t willing to change to be better. Eventually the pain lessens but you’ll always mean something to her. 
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
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