#if this is just some elaborate ''let's have winston feel kind of bad about something but n a new way this time via having romantic interest'

[whumphoarder]

Death by Waffles

Summary: When Tony decides to adopt a cat for Morgan, Peter is almost more excited about it than the six-year-old. He just failed to mention one minor issue before coming to visit at the lake house for the weekend.

Or, in which Peter is horrifically allergic to cats but JUST LOVES THEM SO MUCH.

Word count: 1,638

Genre: Fluff, slight whump, humor

A/N: Thanks to @xxx-cat-xxx & @sallyidss for beta reading and giving me ideas! 

Link to read on Ao3

“I still think we should have called him Winston Furrchill,” Tony says with a shrug, watching Peter, who’s sitting cross legged on the living room floor, grinning ear-to-ear, stroking the long-haired cat’s fur.

“That’s so boorrring, Daddy,” Morgan complains. She grabs the little feather teaser and dangles it in front of the cat’s face. He lifts a paw lazily to bat at it. “All your ideas were so boring.”

“What are you talking about?” Tony balks at her, eliciting giggles from Peter and a dramatic groan from the six-year-old. “My ideas were gold. Mr. Meowgi. Bill Clawsby. Genghis Khat.”

Peter snaps once and shoots a finger gun Tony’s direction. “Luke Skywhisker!” he throws in, causing Morgan to groan. “Ooh! Call him Nick Furr-y!”

“No! His name is Waffles!” Morgan exclaims, throwing up her hands in exasperation and causing the kitty in question to dart across the room and dive into his favorite hiding place—the cardboard box that his brand new, untouched, three-hundred-dollar cat tree came in. Tony just rolls his eyes; it’s behavior like this that makes him almost regret spending the last four days in the workshop designing that damn feline an elaborate catwalk and perch system spanning every room of the lake house.

(Almost.)

Morgan sticks her lip out in a pout.

“Aw, Mo, we were just teasing,” Peter says, patting her arm with a kind smile. “Waffles is a great name—I love it.”

That seems to console her. She grins back at him. “It’s ‘cus when we brought him home, he was really scared the first day and he just wanted to hide under my bed. So Daddy said I could eat breakfast in my room with him so he’d feel safer, but then I had to go to the bathroom and when I was gone he stole my waffle,” she rambles.

Peter quirks an eyebrow. “Your cat ate a waffle?”

Morgan nods. “Uh-huh, and then he puked it up again on the carpet!” she explains cheerfully.

“Ah yes, fond memories…” Tony mutters.

“So I named him Waffles,” Morgan concludes. “But I almost called him Syrup, ‘cus he got that on his paws when he walked on the plate, and then he ran around everywhere and it was all sticky. Mommy says that’s why we got ants after.”

While Peter snorts out a laugh, Tony just runs a hand over his face and sighs. “It’s been a long week.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Peter laughs, rubbing a hand at his eyes. He uncrosses his legs and gets to his feet to walk over to the box where Morgan is trying to lure Waffles out again. “I always wanted a cat, but May never let me get one—said they were too much hassle.”

“They are,” Tony says emphatically.

“Are not,” Morgan disagrees. As Peter sits down by the box, she picks up the bag of kitty treats and starts shaking it, causing Waffles to poke his head out. She pours out three little treats onto her open palm. He sniffs them suspiciously, then turns his nose up and buries himself back in the box.

Morgan turns to Tony and shrugs. “I don’t think he likes chicken flavor anymore. You gotta get him the salmon ones, Daddy.”

“But you told me this morning that he doesn’t like salmon,” Tony argues. “He only eats the premium chicken with gravy.”

Morgan shakes her head. “No, no that’s his wet food. He only eats dry salmon, and wet chicken. And sometimes tuna, but only that one in the blue bag.”

“And waffles,” Peter throws in with a wry smile, sitting down to start stroking the cat inside the box. “Don’t forget the waffles, Mr. Stark.”

“At this rate, I’m thinking it’d be better to just install a cat flap and let him find his own mice for dinner,” Tony grumbles.

As if on cue, Waffles meows irritably and leaps out of the cardboard box, straight onto Peter’s lap. However in doing so, the cat’s fluffy tail tickles the kid’s nose. Peter sneezes twice—rather violently—startling the cat to the point that it shoots across the room and climbs halfway up the drapes.

“Waffles!” Morgan cries and races after him.

Sniffling a bit, Peter gives a sheepish smile. “Whoops.”

Tony rolls his eyes and extends a hand to help lever the kid up again. Peter rubs at his eyes again—which Tony notices are redder than usual. He raises an eyebrow suspiciously. “Are you sure ‘too much hassle’ was the only reason May was against you having cats?”

Something flashes across Peter’s face, but it’s gone just as soon as it appears. “Yeah, yeah of course. Well, that and she’s more of a dog person, really, but they’re not allowed in the apartment.”

“Hm.” Tony glances at his watch. “Alright, well it’s almost His Royal Highness’ dinner time.” He gestures to the kitchen. “Let’s go see if we can get him to choke down some caviar and truffles or something…”

X

Three hours later, Tony can’t ignore the signs any longer. After witnessing Peter’s third sneezing fit since dinner, he privately pulls the kid out into the kitchen. “Pete, c’mon,” he sighs. “Just admit it already.”

Taking a tissue from the box Tony holds out to him, Peter shrugs innocently. “Alright, you got me. Guess I’m coming down with a cold.” He wipes his nose.

Tony raises an eyebrow. “A cold that began ten minutes after entering our home and has only gotten progressively worse since?”

Peter chuckles a bit. “Yeah, go figure, right? Perfect timing for my weekend off. What does Doctor Banner call that again?” He tilts his head to the side in thought. “Starts with an L…”

“Pete…”

“Leisure sickness!” he recalls, his face lighting up. “That’s the word. Think I’ve got that.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony starts ticking each symptom off on his fingers. “Your nose is running, your eyes are watery, you’re sneezing—”

“Which is all from the cold,” Peter cuts him off. He coughs twice into his elbow. “See? Sick.”

Tony scoffs. “In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never once admitted to being sick unprompted.” He pauses a beat. “Including that time you were actively vomiting.”

Peter rubs a hand at the back of his neck and gives a sheepish grin. “So I'm really demonstrating growth, then, huh?”

Tony ignores him and soldiers on. “You’re itching,” he says, gesturing to the red welts emerging on Peter’s forearms and neck. “You’re getting a rash—”

Peter tugs his hoodie sleeves down to cover them. “I think that’s the new laundry soap I’ve been using...”

Tony blinks at him. “Your eyes are bright red, kid.”

Peter opens his mouth to retort something, but then closes it again. He drops his gaze to the floor and lets out a hard sigh. “Okay… okay you’re right,” he admits. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t wanna say it around Morgan.” He looks up and, with a totally straight expression, whispers, “I’ve been smoking weed, Mr. Stark. I’m actually tripping balls right now.”

“Peter, just admit that you’re allergic to cats!”

“Huh?” Morgan cries from the living room where she has her kitty on her lap while she watches Curious George. “Peter’s allergic to Waffles?!” The cat dives off her lap and out into the kitchen, hiding behind Peter’s leg.

Peter winces. Then his nose wrinkles up and he sneezes four times into his wad of tissues. When he draws in his next breath, it’s more of a wheeze.

Tony heaves out a sigh. “Alright, we’re done here.” He bends down and scoops the cat up. “Waffles is staying in Pep’s office for the remainder of this weekend.”

“What?” Morgan blurts.

“Yeah, what?” Peter echos, snatching the cat back from Tony’s arms. “You can’t do that!”

“Pete, he’s making you sick,” Tony points out as Peter sneezes yet again. “If you’re already this bad in three hours, how do you expect to breathe in a couple more days?”

Peter looks stricken. “But… But you don’t understand.” He hugs the cat a little tighter and Tony swears he can see fresh hives emerging on Peter’s neck. “I just love him so much, Mr. Stark,” he says earnestly. “I would honestly die for this cat.”

Tony sighs and pats his shoulder consolingly. “Yeah, and that’s looking more and more like it might become reality, kiddo...”

X

It takes some convincing—and a bit of bribery—but eventually he gets the kids to agree to his plan. In the end, Morgan and Peter settle for a six-foot-tall ‘Royal Castle Kitty Condo’ (complete with a litter moat) in exchange for Waffles’ temporary banishment. He then sends Peter to the guest room while he and Morgan transfer the cat’s most essential supplies into the office, grateful for once that Pepper’s staying downtown this weekend.

Waffles promptly makes himself at home on the very top of her bookshelf—after first knocking over two glass figurines and a meticulously ordered stack of papers, sending legal documents flying around the room.

(Tony wonders just what kind of royal castle equivalent he’s going to have to bribe Pepper with when she gets back.)

X

It’s 12:16 a.m. when Tony remembers that they forgot to give Waffles his anti-hairball paste that evening and comes grumbling out of bed to do so.

It’s 12:19 a.m. when Tony opens the office door to see Peter, sitting on the floor with that damn cat curled up in his lap, wheezing out a high-pitched chant of, “Who’s a good kitty? Who’s a good boy?” between puffs of his inhaler as he strokes Waffles’ fur.

It’s 12:21 a.m. when Tony just gives up trying to reason with the kid and goes raiding the bathroom cabinets for Benadryl.

X

Link to all my fics

If you liked this story, you might also like:

Beanimia

Morgan Stark, M.D.

Fevers, Bananas, & Math Lessons

#fluff #domestic fluff #irondad #irondad fic #morgan stark #Peter Parker & tony stark #cats #allergies #sick peter parker #peter parker whump #my fic #tony stark has a heart #peter parker is a little shit

[hopewritcs]

dancing in the kitchen. seven.

pairing: romantic steve x reader, familial dustin x reader, friendship nancy x reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: without giving too much away: the reader is Y/N Henderson, Dustin’s older cousin who’s staying in town, due to some family issues. takes place soon after s2.

note: finally chapter seven!! i had a lot of fun in this chapter, delving into both y/n’s thoughts and steve’s!! 

other chapters: masterlist

tag list: @stevieboyharrington, @lola-winston-harrington, @fuckthatfeeling​,@thekidsofneibolt, @labgeek, @tyedyedstars, @samisimportant, @madhatterweasley, @pity-mee, @l4life, @veryweirdintrovert, @restlessmelodrama,@darkuserboxes,@princessnancy, @hipsmcgee, @wtf-richarddd (if you wanna be added to the tag list, let me know!!)

Y/N had made sure everyone was asleep before she went to bed.  Dustin had elected to stay downstairs in the living room with the other kids, all of them in sleeping bags with a dozen or so pillows between the group of them.  They were all around each other, sitting up so they could watch the movie while the older teens had been on the couch.  

But by the time they got around to picking a second movie, everyone was exhausted.  Dustin was the first to fall asleep, though Y/N knew that the next morning he would deny that.  The younger teens followed suit, falling asleep soon after.  Y/N snuck between the sleeping bags to turn the television off.  

Y/N was sharing her room that night with Nancy and Dustin offered his room up to Steve and Jonathan.  So the older teens got settled in for the night before getting ready for bed.  Y/N and Nancy were on the former’s bed, pillows in their laps as they caught up on school gossip.  They were giggling, but trying to keep their voices down to keep from waking up the whole house.  

A knock startled the pair out of their conversation and they turned to look to see who was entering the room.  Seeing Claudia, both Y/N and Nancy giggled loudly before stopping themselves and smiling, saying hello Y/N’s aunt.  

“Just checking in before going to bed.  I’ll be gone before you kids wake up in the morning.  I wanted to make sure you handled everything today.  How were Dusty and his friends?  Good, I hope.” Claudia stood in the doorway to the bedroom with a smile on her face, despite looking exhausted herself.  

“Everything was great, Aunt C!  Don’t worry about us.” Y/N said with a wave of her hands and a bright smile.  “Go get some sleep.  I’ve got all the munchkins under control.  Me and Nance can fight them off if they get annoying.”  At that comment Nancy laughed but nodded her head in agreement with her friend.  

“Goodnight Mrs. Henderson.  Thanks for letting us all stay over.”  Nancy smiled appreciatively at her friend’s aunt. 

“Oh it’s my pleasure, girls.  I love having all you kids here.  The house feels full and happy.”  Claudia explained with a smile.  “Well, goodnight.  Don’t stay up too late.”  Claudia walked into the room, leaning over to kiss both girls on the forehead.  “I love you both.  Sleep tight.”  she waved, her hand hovering over the light switch (which she wound up leaving on) before closing the door behind them.  

“On that note, I’m going to go brush my teeth and hair.”  Y/N laughed, tossing her pillow at Nancy with a smile and leaving to go to the bathroom.  

Hours later, Y/N was tossing in her bed.  She had a restless couple hours of sleep, often finding herself waking up just staring up at the ceiling.  She had so many thoughts on her mind.  Maybe Nancy was right.  Everyone has a past, and maybe hers wasn’t as bad as she’d been working it up in her mind.  She’d been a classic “mean girl”, but she was better than that.  ...Wasn’t she?  She liked to think so.  

Back when she was younger, Y/N spent hours running around with Dustin, Mike, Will, and Lucas.  She would “babysit” them and make sure none of them got into trouble.  Usually that meant following them around at the park for a couple of hours.  For the most part Nancy would often hang out with her when she could.  

And somehow as she got older, and moved around, and went from school to school and place to place, Y/N felt herself distancing from that kind person she felt inside.  Maybe it was because she hit puberty, she’d grown taller.  Didn’t feel as gawky as she had in her pre-teen years.  Or maybe it was the group of friend’s Y/N had fallen in with at her last school.  She couldn’t exactly admit to being the typical mean girl to everyone she knew in Hawkins.  Fanning the rumour mill with her whispers and giggles in the hallway.  

Hell, Y/N didn’t even recognize that girl.  

She fell from that high horse, hard.  And she never wanted to go back to it.  

After realizing she wasn’t going to get much sleep, Y/N got up and got out of bed.  She pulled a sweater on over her head, closing the door behind her and leaving Nancy to sleep for a few hours more.  She just knew she wasn’t going to fall back asleep herself, and she quietly padded down the stairs, yawning as she hit the ground below.  

A figure startled her, someone who was rummaging through the fridge.  When the person found what they were looking for, they turned around and nearly dropped the container upon seeing Y/N there too.  

“Make a sound or something next time.” the gruff voice hummed, doing his best to keep his voice down (there was still a handful of kids asleep in the living room a couple feet away from them).  

Y/N covered her face, shaking her head with a small chuckle before she spoke.  “I didn’t mean to scare you, Steve.”  she explained, walking more into the kitchen.  “Midnight snack?”  she asked, an eyebrow raised as she turned to look at the clock on the counter.  “Or...six fifteen am snack?” she corrected herself.  

“Want some?” he offered her the tupperware as he opened it.  “I didn’t expect anyone else to be awake cause normal people are usually sound asleep before eight am.”  

“I guess I had a lot on my mind.  Couldn’t sleep very well.  Figured I’d come down here and sit on the back porch for a bit.” Y/N explained with a shrug, going to grab a couple of forks from the drawer and handed one over to Steve while she grabbed a forkful of leftovers.  “Why are you up?” she asked, going into the fridge and grabbing the pitcher of iced tea.  While Y/N grabbed two glasses and filled them with ice, Steve dug into the leftovers and replied to her question.  

“Same as you.”  He shrugged, doing his best to sound like it wasn’t a big deal.  Because it wasn’t.  Anymore, at least.  Okay, fine, Steve had a nightmare and he didn’t want to tell Y/N about it.  How could he do that without explaining everything that had happened in Hawkins.  “Restless night.  Bad dreams or something.  Can’t remember a thing.”  He elaborated on it, since he did feel bad lying to Y/N.  Or, not telling her the truth.  He’d mentioned it to Dustin one day when he picked the middle schooler up after school.  

Steve had volunteered to pick Dustin up from school.  Nancy, Jonathan, and Y/N had gone ahead to the Byers house to study for a quiz.  But Dustin needed a ride to the Wheeler’s place.  Since Steve had driven him and Y/N to school, it was only fair he also took him over to Nancy and Mike’s later too.  Steve offered to take Y/N too, but she politely declined.  She had to stay after school for a meeting with her English teacher and Jonathan had offered her a ride home.  So that left Steve and Dustin alone.  

“Christ, shithead, take any longer and I’ll be an old man.”  Steve complained, groaning as Dustin got in the car.  It was their usual banter, so he knew that Dustin wouldn’t bug him about the complaint.  

“You already are an old man, dude.” Dustin laughed, shaking his head as he took off his baseball cap.  He ran a hand through his hair, then put the cap back on top of his head.  

“And you’re a pain in the ass.”  Steve said, pulling away from the middle school parking lot.  

“Am not.” Dustin huffed under his breath.  

The two boys were silent for a moment, but when they hit the first stop light on their route Steve turned to look at Dustin.  He was trying to figure out the right way to ask the question he wanted to ask without Dustin getting all Dustin on him.  

“Why are you looking at me like that Steve?”  

Steve rolled his eyes, driving down the street and clearing his throat before he spoke.  “So does your cousin--does Y/N know about everything that happened here?  About Dart?  The lab?”  

Dustin shook his head, eyes wide and staring at Steve as he shifted in his seat.  “No.  Why would she know that?”

“Cause she’s living here now?  What if that shit happens again?”  Steve asked.  He didn’t want to say that out loud, but given how he’d been having nightmares--thinking about that night for weeks on end--he needed to say it.  “Not that I think it’s going to.  But...she should know.” 

“Oh, yeah. One night after dinner I’ll just come out with it like, Hey Y/N, I know you’re getting settled in here and dealing with some bullshit of your own that mom won’t tell me, but remember when you asked if Mews had run away?  Yeah, a demodog ate her.  His name was Dart.  Good animal.  Liked nougat.  No fucking way am I telling her that.”  Dustin hit Steve’s shoulder as he shook his head, settling back into his seat.  Glancing back at Steve, Dustin spoke again, “Do you really think it could happen again?”

“What?  No.  No.  I’m just...worst case scenario dude.  What if something happens.  Something unnatural.  And Y/N’s involved.  Shouldn’t she know?” 

Dustin had left the car after that, since they’d pulled up at the Wheeler residence and he left Steve hanging without an answer. 

Steve knew that Dustin wouldn’t tell Y/N.  But he hoped he could convince the younger Henderson to do so.  Keeping a secret so big from someone who was now so involved in their lives was just wrong.  

At least that was the rational thought to it.  

The irrational, impulsive side was trying to get Steve to open up to Y/N.  She was the first person since Nancy that Steve was feeling like he could actually open up to.  She had a voice of her own.  But was also so kind and seemed to take care of her younger cousin.  And had the maturity to make a whole meal for everyone and make sure they were all settled in and enjoying themselves too.  

But, Steve wasn’t listening to that part right then.  

Y/N on the other hand was staring at Steve, eyes half worried and half sleepy as she studied him.  Attempting to believe if he actually didn’t remember the dreams.  But she decided to drop the subject, grabbing a throw blanket she’d taken from the linen closet last night and left on the counter.  

“Let’s go outside.  So we don’t wake them up.”  Y/N suggested.  Before Steve could answer Y/N already had the two drinks and blanket balanced in her hands and managed to open up the sliding back door without needing a hand leaving Steve to follow behind her and close the door.  

Y/N was sitting on the bench outside, legs curled up beside her but she left enough room for Steve to sit beside her.  On the small table she’d put the two drinks before opening up the blanket.  She held one end of it up to Steve who took a moment before sitting down beside her, happily taking the blanket.  It was a crisp December morning.  Cold enough to see your breath in the air.  

Y/N grabbed her glass of iced tea and smiled.  “I would have made coffee, but the machine might have woken the kids up.  I don’t know if any of them are light sleepers.  Dustin isn’t, he could sleep through the end of the world.  But I wouldn’t want to risk waking anyone up.”  

They were finally able to speak at a normal volume.  Steve shook his head.  “It’s fine.  Though coffee would be nice.”  he laughed lightly as he took a forkful of the food.  “This is still really good.”

Y/N had cut him off before he could continue his thought.  “Well good to know food doesn’t spoil overnight.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, “I mean it’s really good, Y/N.  Leftovers or not.”  Steve said with a shrug.  “You gonna cook pancakes this morning for everyone?”  

“I don’t think Dustin would have it any other way.”  Y/N put down her glass, rubbing her hands together to get them warmed up.  Seeing her struggle to get warm, Steve pulled the blanket up toward her, covering Y/N up to her chin.  Y/N leaned a little closer to him under the blanket, her legs shifting to face Steve as she rested her chin on his shoulder.  “Sorry.” she explained, hiding her face in the fluffy blanket while she spoke.  “I don’t think ice in the glass when we’re outside was a good idea.”  Y/N giggled.  

Steve put an arm around her, shrugging his shoulders.  “Probably not the best idea.  But I don’t mind.”  

Y/N found herself leaning against Steve.  Maybe for warmth.  Maybe for comfort.  “I love the cold weather.  But I think coming outside before the sun’s fully up is a mistake.”  she giggled.  

“What, seeing your breath in the air isn’t a good thing?” 

“I meant having to curl up under the blanket.  I definitely should have also grabbed gloves or a coat too.”  

Steve thought about the position they were in.  His arm around her, her head on his shoulder. He wanted to help her, but didn’t actually know how to help keep her warm.  “I guess you’ll know better for next time.” 

“You offering to sit outside in the cold morning air with me another morning too?” Y/N asked, nudging Steve’s arm.  

“I wouldn’t mind it.”  

And it was an honest answer.  An answer that hung in the cool December air between the two of them.  Y/N had turned to face him fully at that moment and he was looking back at her.  Their breath visible in the air, mingling together due to how they were seated.  Both of them looked like they were about to say something else.  Do something else, maybe.  But neither of them spoke or moved.  They just sat there.  After what felt like hours of stillness, both teens were startled when they heard a noise.  The sliding glass door opening.  

“Y/N?”  Nancy’s voice called out.  “I know you like cold and possible snowy weather, but if you’re outside in just your pajamas i’m going to drag you back in before you get frostbite.”  Nancy poked her head out of the sliding glass door, stepping out in a jacket and some slippers.  She turned her gaze and saw Steve and Y/N on the bench--both of whom seemed to be taking in a deep breath and looked like they couldn’t get farther away from each other on the bench.  Nancy just laughed as she trotted toward them.  “Am I interrupting something?” 

“No!”  Y/N’s voice was way more high pitched than normal as she stood up.  She was barefooted, still in her pajamas, and freezing now that she didn’t have the warmth of he blanket surrounding her (or Steve’s embrace).  Y/N gathered the stuff from the table and began walking toward the kitchen, stealing a glance back at Steve, who was giving the two girls distance as he folded the blanket back up.  

“So, you and Steve were sitting at opposite ends of the bench for no reason whatsoever?”  Nancy side-eyed her best friend once they were inside.  

“You just startled us is all.  What if it had been Dustin or one of the other kids?”  

Nancy stopped short, covering her mouth as she gasped.  “So something did happen!”

Y/N shushed her friend.  “Be quiet.” she scolded, eyes darting back and forth.  Y/N emptied out the drinks and turned to Nancy, making sure to keep her voice low.  “I think we might have kissed.  If you hadn’t surprised us.  I don’t know, though.  Maybe that was just in my head.”  Y/N wiped her hands dry on her shirt and moved to the cabinet.  It was getting close to a normal hour now, she could see some movement in the living room too, so she figured it would be a good time to start making pancakes.  

“Well shit Y/N, I’m sorry.”  Nancy sighed, shaking her head as she leaned back on the counter.  

“Don’t.”  Y/N said with a small smile, looking up at her friend as she gathered the ingredients.  “It was nothing.”  

“Do you want some help?”  Y/N and Nancy both turned to look at the voice, Steve had put the blanket back in the closet and then came into the kitchen.  

“You can cook?” Nancy asked, raising an eyebrow at him.  

“Not well.  But I can set a table and get coffee going.”  Steve shoved his hands into his pajama pants pockets as he swayed on the balls of his feet.  

“That would be great Steve.  Thank you.”  

And the group in the kitchen went about their business.  Steve grabbed enough plates for everyone, setting the bigger dining room table with plates and silverware.  Nancy was getting other things for the table--bread and some fruit.  

Y/N was focused on making the pancakes and sides for the pancakes.  She even decided, since she hadn’t seen the kids wake up yet, to make some home made whipped cream for the toppings too.  

The first kid to pop his head up was Mike, who immediately started shouting for everyone to wake up.  “Guys! Y/N’s making pancakes!  Wake up!”  And he ran into the kitchen, standing next to Y/N and watching as she flipped the pancakes in the pan over.  

“Morning Mikey.”  Y/N said, glancing at him.  “Can you take the cinnamon, syrup, and whipped cream to the table for me?”  He nodded, gathering everything she’d asked and started walking toward the dining room table.  “Thank you.” she called after him.  

And soon enough, everyone was up and heading into the dining room to eat.  They began doling out sides and toppings for their pancakes.  But with ten mouths to feed, it was going to take a while before she was done.  For the first couple minutes she told them she could bring in the ones she had done, and they should start eating without her.  But they all refused.  Or, Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan had convinced them to all refuse.  

Y/N took the tray out of the oven and walked into the dining room, placing it down on the table.  “Dig in.”  she exclaimed, taking the seat that Nancy had saved for her.  

The whole table lit up with conversation as they all continued to stack their plates with food.  Everyone was talking, laughing, enjoying the meal.  Y/N had been surprised with a cup of coffee put by her plate.  She put in the amount of sugar that she liked and took a sip.  She figured it had been Steve to put the cup in front of her and when she looked up at him, the smile gave it away.  Thank you, she mouthed at him.  

After breakfast, Y/N began clearing the table as she usually did when Steve and Nancy both stood up to stop her.  “You made breakfast, Y/N.”  Steve said, shaking his head as if disapproving of the girl for going right to clean things up when they had all finished.  

Nancy put her hands on Y/N’s shoulders and began walking her out of the room.  “You should go shower and relax.  We will take care of cleaning.”  

Y/N stopped at the foot of the stairs and glanced toward the group of kids at the table.  “We?”  

“We.”  Nancy laughed, nudging her friend up the stairs and then turning toward the group.  “Okay.  We’re all pitching in to clean up.”  She clapped her hands together and as Y/N got up the stairs she heard Nancy giving out some clean up duties.  Y/N could only smile.  

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things x reader #dustin henderson x reader #steve harrington fanfic #dancing in the kitchen

[reikomatsuki]

Soft Light and Sweet Dreams

Hi. I made a “little” McHanzo drabble off of a comic @vimeddiee posted that F’d me up. It was only made better by @bunroo who made a post about characters just being super cutesy and domestic. Also, I haven’t posted, or even finished, a fanwork in about five years now. I was a little too nervous to. It’s almost 3k words and it’s 2am. Read the tags, please.

It had been a few months, almost a year, since Hanzo followed his brother to the watchpoint Gibraltar. He expected his brother and a rundown watchpoint embedded in a cliff in Spain. What surprised him was that his brother lived there. And he lived there with a ragtag group that called each other family.

He stared at the group as they suddenly and wholly welcomed him. A small Korean girl, Hana, a hyper Brazilian man, Lucio, and a quick British woman, Lena, immediately overwhelmed him with positivity and smiles. Smiles that faltered when he told them his stay wouldn’t be permanent.

He met everyone that day. All names and faces stored in his memory. Filed away for later. One, however, stayed at the forefront of his mind.

Jesse McCree.

Outwardly friendly and humble. Deceivingly so for he had quite a sense of humor. Accompanying that personality, and his ridiculous old west attire, there was something alluring about him. He called it his “Southern Charm” but no matter the name, it was infuriatingly attractive. His accent and sun-kissed skin were sexier than sin and it drew Hanzo even closer to the man. This sturdy, pure-hearted man pierced the armor he put around his own heart as if Jesse was the archer.

A small prick of fear stabbed through him the same way. Worry followed after. He knew he didn’t want to stay and didn’t want any attachments. So he pulled himself together and readjusted his armor. Made it stronger and silently challenged the man to do it again.

He rejected his feelings and McCree's efforts at friendship with short, stinging quips and monosyllabic grunts. But only to protect them both.

When Jesse commented on the Sake Hanzo liked to drink, he was scoffed at. After practice, or sometimes during, McCree would compliment his bowmanship. He only received a quick hum for his efforts. Even though his rudeness was apparent, Jesse handed out patience at a rate that Hanzo felt he didn’t deserve.

Despite his unfriendly disposition, Jesse stuck around him most days. They quickly became drinking buddies and training partners. Sometimes at the same time. Until Jesse took an arrow to the forearm and Hanzo took a bullet to the calf. Then Angela prohibited drinking in the shooting range.

Hanzo did talk to other members of overwatch and was quite fond of his brother’s master. The omnic seemed to radiate harmony and Hanzo felt soothed when conversing with him. Genji joined most of the time and others would occasionally pop in and out. Genji and Hanzo would discuss their past, gently glancing the mention of what had happened between them and the clan.

One night, after staying on the watchpoint for a good three months and a long unsuccessful talk with Genji about that night years ago, Hanzo found himself drinking on the edge of the cliff, staring out into the ocean.

Hanzo rubbed his face of tears he hadn’t cried for hours and took another swig of Sake. Alcohol warms from the inside out but always leaves you feeling cold again. So he drank more, trying to fight the nightly breeze. The sound of spurs approached from his left and stopped a comfortable distance away.

“Howdy, Hanzo.” came the soft greeting, “This seat taken?” he attempted, gesturing towards the ground.

He was only met with silence.

Despite no response, he sat anyway. One leg folded up and one gently hanging off the edge. Multiple moments and glances in Hanzo’s direction pass before he finally opens his mouth to speak.

“Hanzo, I know it ain’t none of my business but-”

“You are correct. It is none of your business.” he bit back.

“-but this can’t be ignored. I know your brother. I’ve known him for years. He’s forgiven you, Hanzo!” he rose his voice, only slightly, but it upset Hanzo’s alcohol addled brain.

“Don’t you think I know that? I know he forgives me! He told me himself! I don’t need to hear it from some drunken cowboy that has no business in my affairs.”

Jesse wasn’t mad. Hanzo didn’t think he’d ever seen him mad. But he nodded his head as if confirming a suspicion he had been pondering for awhile and let the silence build for a moment. Hanzo wished he would just open his mouth already. Silence plagued him for too long to feel comfortable with it now. Especially with Jesse.

Finally, spoke, “You have to forgive yourself as well, darlin’. It ain’t healthy to be angry when you look in the mirror. I would know. I’ve felt my fair share of shame, anger, betrayal… abandonment. You name it,” he scooted over and grazed his metal fingertips along Hanzo’s temple. The cool metal sent a chill down his spine but he kept still, “but you have to learn to love yourself the way you deserve.”

Hanzo’s image of Jesse blurred and he distantly registered the drops of water landing on his hand. Jesse, this wonderful man, had all of the answers, didn’t he? And as if he knew what Hanzo needed, he pulled him in for an awkward, sitting embrace. It was endearing nonetheless. Jesse let Hanzo take all the time he needed before softly slipping out of his unsure grip.

“C’mon darlin’,” he whispered, taking the small gourd from Hanzo, “Let’s get you to bed.”

That night, Hanzo realized he loved this ridiculously captivating cowman. Realized that the clan was gone, he could love himself. He could love this man. He could forgive himself as his brother did and, yet again, find harmony in his soul.

It took Hanzo another month before he announced that he was staying as a permanent member of this family, and told his brother privately that he planned to woo the cowboy. Both parties deemed a celebration was in order.

Three hours after sipping on tea and eating a feast of epic proportions in the common area, procured by the ever kind Reinhardt, he worked up the courage to pull Jesse aside. Though he almost stumbled twice and his face felt warm enough to boil the tea in his hands, he was able to get through his proposal of a “partnership of sorts”. Of course, Jesse was confused.

“Partnership? You mean for missions?” he asked innocently.

“No. I mean closer to a… domestic partnership.” Hanzo elaborated. Jesse stared at him for a good twenty seconds that felt closer to twenty years.

“Darlin’, are you asking me to be your boyfriend?” he asked, holding his sweet tea up to cover his smile.

Hanzo looked off to the side casually so he didn’t have to meet Jesse’s eyes, “Yes.”

Jesse took off his hat and looked flushed himself, “Aw hell, darlin’. You got me warmer than a patch of grass in the sun. But,” he brushed back some of Hanzo’s hair from his cheek, “I would be honored to be with you, Sugar.”

Hanzo let himself smile. Small as it was, it blinded Jesse and he couldn’t help but press his forehead to Hanzo’s and just laugh for a moment. Hanzo joined him.

Seven months later, here they were Late July was upon them and so was the heat again. They were down by the local shops searching for knick-knacks to liven up the new room Jesse talked Winston into giving them. Hanzo and Jesse had been sharing a room for five months. The cramped, one person bunk was a bit too much for both bare on most nights, even with two fans on them.

Their room was one of the old commanders' room and it looked like it too. Gray and dusty, like no one went in there for ages. The desk littered with old Overwatch papers and a slightly outdated computer, but only by a few years. The room was bare, save for the essentials.

Jesse demanded that, while the sheets were in the wash, and the dusting had been done, that they go find something fun to put in there. Hanzo covered his snort with his hand and agreed.

They weren’t able to find much other than two beautiful blue cloths to put on the nightstand, a ceramic cactus that was far too large, a radio, and a painting of a water lily. Jesse picked out white curtains and tore out the blinds. Hanzo counted aloud how many times they both sneezed cleaning out their new room and lost count after 79.

As the sun was setting, they finished their project. It felt like a home. It was also about twenty degrees cooler, so that was a plus. After a drink or two, they decided to give their new bed a test run. Hanzo is half sure it almost broke.

Soft music played through the room as Hanzo listened to Jesse’s heartbeat. Steady breaths ruffled Hanzo’s bangs and brought him a peace he hadn’t felt in years.

“Jesse?” he chanced, not knowing if he would still be awake after that performance.

“Yeah Han-y bee?” came the rumbly reply.

“I love you.” he heard his heart beat harder against his ribs.

“Oh, darlin’. I love you more than you know.” his hand slid around to lift Hanzo’s chin. “You're the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me.”

They shared a kiss that took Hanzo’s breath away although it was rather tame.

“Marry me, Hanzo?” He spoke with a sincerity he hardly ever held on his face or in his words.

He found it. His happiness. His peace. His love.

“Yes.”

They kissed again.

Not long after that, they got word of an increase of Talon activity in Greece. They were scouring the ruins for something. Winston put together a rushed mission to stop them from finding whatever it was they so desperately needed. Hanzo and Jesse were on the list of operatives that were to head in. Hanzo wishes he could remember exactly what happened but he couldn’t. A head injury. Caused when an entire section of the ruins came crashing down on him. And Jesse. He was out for months.

Angela was the one to bare the bad news. The only one allowed by his side was Genji who held his hand during. And held him after. While his body shuddered with the power of the sobs he couldn’t stop. Tears made tracks down his face. And he distantly registered that they were landing on his hands.

After a few moments to calm his crying, he was given the only things left of Jesse. A red serape and his hat. They let him go back to his room after one last check.

Genji tucked him in like he was a child and placed the serape over Hanzo’s covers. The hat was placed on Jesse’s pillow. And Hanzo was left to mourn. When mourning became too tiring, he closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, Jesse was there. One cheek pressed against the pillow and a smile on his perfect lips. Sunlight streamed in passed the open white curtains and created a halo of gold around him.

“Hey there, sleepyhead.” his voice rang like bells. It was melodic and beautiful.

“Jesse...?” that one word wavered in his throat. He lifted his head and Jesse placed a metal hand on his cheek.

“Wasn’t gonna let you wake up alone, darlin’. Gotta kiss those eyes...” soft kisses were placed on his eyelids that held back tears, but only just. Jesse pulled back. Hanzo tried to reach for him but his hand wouldn’t move forward far enough.

“Jesse…” his image blurred.

“Wait…” he couldn’t feel his warmth anymore.

“Don’t go…” the sun was gone.

And he woke up.

“Come back…” Tears fell from his face. His hand was outstretched for Jesse who he knew wouldn’t be there.

It’s another month after he woke up. These dreams haunt him every night. A tease of Jesse. Just a glance every time he closes his eyes. So he closes them as often as he’s allowed. Everyone visits. His brother almost as much as Angela. Sometimes together.

Today is better than the last and he’s convinced of getting up and taking a walk by Genji. They walk around the track once before Hanzo would prefer his bed again. Genji relents after a few attempts at convincing him to get more sunshine. His brother leads him back to his room and is only gone for a few minutes before the alarms sound.

Hanzo’s heart pounds in his chest and he wishes he knew where his bow ended up after everything. Athena’s voice cuts through the blaring, “Agents! Talon operatives have infiltrated on the Northside!”

Hanzo simply sits in his room. He’s lost. Not for the first time in his life, he’s lost. He wishes more than anything that Jesse was here. He could fight his way through with Jesse on his side. Without him…

His communicator beeps to life.

“Hanzo!” It’s Genji. “They’re headed your way. Stay in your room. We’ll come get you.”

He doesn’t answer but Genji seems to know that he got the message and disconnects.

All he says is “Let them come.” and wraps Jesse’s serape around his shoulders. He only hopes they’d send him to Jesse. The door opened. And he never expected that they’d send him Jesse. Looking up, he sees the broad shoulders and kind face. Scruffy beard. Tan skin. He was wearing a Talon uniform but Hanzo didn’t think he could find it in himself to care.

“Hanzo,” Jesse spoke. Monotone and bleak but exactly what Hanzo needed. When Hanzo rose, so did Jesse’s gun. But Hanzo still didn’t care. He walked to him quickly, scared he’d fade away if he wasn’t fast enough. Jesse’s eyes followed him along with his new six-shooter.

The embrace was sudden and not very warm. Jesse seemed physically colder than before. Or maybe it was the gun now against his skin.

He pretended the cold metal pressed to his temple was Jesse's cold, metal fingertips and not the barrel of his gun. Pressed to him the same way it felt in his dream.

He couldn't help the tears of relief, sorrow, and confusion that swept down his face. What happened to his cowboy? The one who sang him lullabies on sleepless nights and soothed his mind after deep talks with Genji. Every private moment. Every touch. Every kiss. Every word.

He thought Jesse was gone forever. How is he here?

The mechanical way he brushes his hand along his spine brings Hanzo to his senses and he realizes that this is not his Jesse. This is not his love. This is not the man whose smile could warm his icy heart and restart its beat to sync with his.

The leap back was sudden and scared the other Talon members Hanzo hadn’t seen till now. Grunts. Escorts. So Jesse could do this. A smile was painted on Jesse’s perfect lips. A vindictive mimic of the one Hanzo lived for only months ago. And was willing to die for today. Was.

“Jesse… what’s-”

Jesse shushed him and slowly stepped towards him.

“No questions, baby. Just sleep.” the gun was aimed with purpose this time.

“No! Wait!” He reached for Jesse who was just out of reach. “Please don’t! Jesse I-!”

“Goodbye, Hanzo.”

Jesse took his breath away one last time.

He never got to hear the gunshot. Never to ask why or bid his new family and love a farewell. Never got to live the life he wanted with Jesse. His darling Jesse. The man that was his rock. His unwarranted guide in life. His love. His end. The light of the sun was held in those eyes. The eyes that glared at him as the trigger was pulled. Ending his life too soon. Or maybe too late. Jesse wouldn’t mourn him. Couldn’t. Jesse didn’t love him anymore. Couldn’t. The world didn’t fade like Jesse’s image did in his dreams or how it did when he realized he loved him. It simply turned off. And he was no more.

#mchanzo #character death #hanzo shimada #jesse mccree #violence #betrayal #I actually cried when I re-read this #good luck #my drabbles #first drabble

[seasons-of-ceres]

Okay angst Queen. Idea. Talon creating a new kind of drug that makes their enemies their allies for a period of time. Making a person turn on it's own teammate/friend or whatever. So what if Mercy/Tracer/Sombra And their S/O went on a mission to find out more about the drug And destroy it. But talon got to Tracer/Mercy/Sombra, making them turn on their S/O. Maybe Ana coming up with a sleep dart to save The day? (angst with fluffy ending would be fantastic, Queen)

A/N: THERE. I have finished it, I’m sorry this took me forever :)

“I do not like this.” You growl, voice echoing within the darkness. “Not one bit.”

An abandoned Talon storehouse. McCree wrestled the location from a Talon grunt in Dorado, Winston confirmed via satellite its blurry existence in the Congo. The smarmy heat of summer seeps into the blackness surrounding you, and for a second you wonder if this isn’t some elaborate trap. Maybe Doomfist is crouching in the corner like an uncaged tiger baiting his breath for helpless prey. Angela can only roll her eyes and sigh, falling in step behind you while the light from her staff lights the way.

“You are only paranoid.” She says. “We will be fine, Genji and McCree are a call away.”

“This place is giving me bad vibes and I’m not cool with that. The ninja and the cowboy should be the ones inside; that’s what my gut tells me and its rarely wrong.”

“I spent three hours fixing that gut a week ago, and it is not guiltless –”

“Shh, did you hear that?”

Footsteps. You heard them. Somewhere ahead of you, coming closer. Your cochlear implants do not lie, so there is definitely something in here with you. You draw the electric rod from your side holster and push a thumb against the trigger – coils of blue lightning shed more light on the path ahead, but there is no one. Angela makes a comment about adjusting your implants on the way home, but you shake your head. There, not even three feet away, is a series of footprints in the dust.

“My ears may be shit,” you announce loudly. “But my eyes see just fine. How about you reveal yourself before I “accidently” short-circuit your heart?”

Someone laughs and Angela falls against your back with a half-muttered apology. You huff and swing the rod around, grabbing Angela’s hand and pulling her through the tangle of overhead wires.

“You like hide-and-seek? Sure, sure. I’m more of a Marco Polo player myself, but I doubt you’re feeling that charitable.”

No response this time, only Angela coughing through the dust and then pausing against a crate. The footsteps circle widely around the two of you, but you still can’t pinpoint their origin. Then, a glass window smashes. Light floods the cramped room, and Angela lunges at you.

“I’m fine, babe, what are –” She shoves her staff against your throat, pushing down hard with a blank look in her eyes. Spots in your vision, you stretch for your electric rod. It collides with Angela’s side but she doesn’t scream, only drawing her pistol and firing three successful shots into your back as you run away. Collapsing behind a crate, you’re already calling for backup when she starts walking towards you.

“Angie, snap out of it, I don’t want to hurt you.” You dash out from behind the crate, ramming the butt of the rod into her stomach, wincing as she doubles over with a gasp.

“Please, don’t get up. I’d rather not do that again.”

Angela hisses, wrapping her hands around one of your arms and then – of all things – she bites down on your hand.

“Motherfucker.” The two of you fall again, Angela bats your rod away while clamping down into the bone. “Oh, you are not going to like this.”

“Genji here. Where are you?”

Oh, thank God.

“Look for a smashed window – second floor – Jesus Christ, Angie.”

You grab a fistful of her long hair and wrench her head back. Your heart is racing but it isn’t enough juice to trigger Discharge, so you use your other hand to rip open the front of your shirt. Angela thrashes, finally letting go of your hand and spitting out mouthfuls of blood. She watches your hand plunge beneath the bandages she wrapped around you this morning, eyes clearing as you dig into the scarred flesh of your chest. Three fingers slide inside, wriggling as flesh and sinew before stroking the closest rib. Your body flies into a panic and you throw your head back as a current of white fire zigzags down the front of your body. It travels along your arm before running across Angela’s body. She freezes, body spasming in place before dropping like a weighed stone against your chest. You can see a dart at the base of her neck, and register a similar one stuck in your arm.

The world shuts off.

You don’t register the room when you wake up, you don’t register much to begin with. Consciousness is really strange like that, knowing you are awake but doing nothing about it. The are fresh bandages wrapped around you, the beeping of a nearby monitor, and the lemony fresh scent of whatever cleaning product Angela ordered. That’s when everything clicks, even thinking the tiniest bit about her makes everything clear up. You can hear the monitor go off as you sit up slowly, and then the clattering of feet as Lucio starts pushing you back down.

“Hey there, hold up a minute.” He’s smiling but it’s one of those frantic smiles.

“Where’s Angela?”

“She’s alright, how about you lie back and I’ll grab Ana – “

“Where is she?”

Lucio frowns and folds his arms over his chest, blowing a raspberry and deliberately walking backwards towards the door. He blocks is completely and then, with all the practised patience of a very tired parent, unfolds his arms and places them on his hips.

“If you can get pass me, I’ll let you see her. But don’t think that just because I’m support means I’m going down easy.”

“Why isn’t she here?”

“She was. We got the drug out of her system but there was another problem.”

“I’m listening.”

Lucio moves back and takes a seat in a nearby chair.

“Aside from a traceable sedative, looks like a series of tiny nanobots got included in the mix.”

“What.”

“Winston says they’ve clustered around her brain stem, that’s why she was acting strange. Mentally, she was checked out but her body was controlled by the bots. The surgery is still happening.”

“Oh God.”

“Hey, don’t you worry. Everything is going to be fine.”

“You have an undercut.”

“Yes,” Angela giggles. “Does it look alright?”

“The back of your head is so fuzzy, I might actually die.”

You flop onto the bed beside her, the surgery for all intents and purposes a success. Winston is examining the bots and Angela will examine the sedative later. Lucio has control of the medical bay, and has barred Angela from work until Winston gives the all clear. It’s awfully nice of him, and it even better for you as Angela has nothing to do aside from “get better”.

“This is the best.” You throw an arm behind her, fingers stroking the back of her skull and down her neck.

“You are being ridiculous.”

“Only because I love you.”

#overwatch #angela ziegler #mercy #Hex writes #with a little bit of Lucio and implied Sombra being a sneaky sneak

[overdrivels]

So, occasionally I have ideas for stories that I can’t write because it would literally be a wall of exposition. This is one of them. So I’m just going to put it down in bullet points so the idea can be vaguely given life. This thing is so long, I don’t even know where this was going.

In short, this one is about the reader who wakes up with amnesia after one particular mission with no memories of the last ten years. The past you and present ‘you’ are nothing alike, and it jars a lot of people, especially Hanzo, who you are--was?--dating.

So...

Basically, you wake up and have no idea where you are. You understand that you’re in a hospital of sorts which looks a little familiar, but you’re not 100% sure.

Mercy comes by and is very happy to see you awake, starts to talk to you, asking you where it hurts, if you want anything, just being caring. She also goes off in short sentences to explain the mission that you don’t really remember being on--names you don’t recognize, places that you have no reason to go to for any mission. But you’re very confused to see her because you know it’s Angela, but you don’t really recognize her? She looks different?

You eventually ask her what she’s talking about and why she looks different. New haircut?

Mercy just kind of segways smoothly into diagnostic questions when she realizes there is something afoot. She asks the standard questions like “Could you give me your name?” “Alias?” “Date of birth?” “What is the current year?” You kind of take it all in stride like it’s a bit of a joke because medical professional questions and all--standard protocol even if everyone knows the answers.

Bless Mercy’s extensive years as a trained medical professional, she keeps a straight face even as your answers become more and more alarming. She excuses herself when she’s done and just tells you to get some rest.

Before she goes, you ask her about Commander Reyes. You know that he’s hard on the people under his command and so you wanted to know when you’d be ready for active duty again and what he has to say about this mission. She almost cracks, but tells you that you need to worry more about yourself right now and everything will be dealt with. You almost fight her on that one, but eventually you just give up when she gives you a look. 

Meanwhile, Mercy needs to give the news to everyone but does not want to cause a mass panic. So she gives the news to Solider: 76, Winston, and Ana. You have amnesia, and don’t remember the last 10 years of your life. You still think you’re in the old Overwatch under Commander Reyes, and is back to being a young punk trying to prove herself. She has no idea how long this will last, if it’s permanent, or maybe you’ll even be fine by the time she gets back. Medical science may be very advanced, but memories are pretty much just electrical signals--haven’t figured it out yet.

No one, except Ana, takes this very well. They strategize on how to best break this to everyone, if they should, even.

Ana has seen worse. She’s good at dealing. 

They do, because you can’t hide this shit from people especially with Overwatch being as small as it is and everyone looking out for everyone else here.

While Soldier, Ana, and Winston are busy breaking the news to everyone else, Mercy has to let you know your actual condition. You fucking laugh in her face when she tells you because that’s ABSURD. That’s something out of a sci-fi movie.

When you realize she’s dead serious, you’re like, OH FUCK. She has to give you a brief history lesson and the more she tells you, the more fucked up you think this is. Talon? Switzerland? Blackwatch? Commanders, dead? Alive? What?

You try to digest this with very mixed results. On one hand, Omnic Crisis is pretty much done. On the other, TEN YEARS of your life gone? What about your comrades? Your friends? Your family?

She leaves you digest this and you very nearly make a fucking break for it because she’s lying--she’s playing an elaborate joke--Commander Reyes loves jokes (the kind that make you want to punch him in the face but laugh about it a week later)--this is wrong!

But she’s right. You look at yourself in the mirror, and you have no idea who you are. Everything is different about you. There are new scars, pains, things hurt that shouldn’t hurt. Your body, your voice--you know it’s you, but it’s not you. And that scares you more than anything. So you grab the first set of clothes you see, put them on, and run. Run, fast. Anywhere else but here. 

Meanwhile, the Overwatch crew are discussing how to approach your amnesia. From how Ana (and Soldier) described you, you were kind of a punk. Trying hard to show off your skills, prove that you deserve your spot, broke rules to do things for the sake of doing them (when off duty), and just generally being young. But the newer Overwatch crew? They knew you as the one who watched over them, checked their equipment twice, the voice of reason alongside Ana when emotions got too high or missions were going bad.  Always calm and thinking things through even when everyone else is stricken with fear. To hear about this person in ‘your’ skin was...unsettling.

Hanzo does not react, but everyone’s looking at him sympathetically because you two were dating and everyone knows that before the mission, you and Hanzo had a fight (the two of you were loud enough to wake the fucking dead). So, it’s rather awkward for him especially since you won’t know that you’re dating--it’s so very confusing.

Genji is all the more sympathetic, but Hanzo just bites back and tells him to not tell you anything. You’re probably confused as fuck, no need to keep adding to the confusion.

It may be the truth, but it doesn’t hurt Hanzo any less.

They all need a bit of time to deal, but too bad!

You fucking run right into their little meeting and no one knows how to react. You pause for a second because hey, there’s that’s asshole cowboy and Lena. For a second, you forget you’re running just to stare and be like, “Are you fucking serious, McCree? Ten years later and you’re still hung up about that fucking rodeo?”

The room just goes dead silent.

Remember, a lot of them know--knew--’you’ as the calm voice of reason. They are reasonably shocked. Reasonably.

Jesse McCree is just like, “Well, nice to have your sass-ass back, too.”

Before you know it, you’re surrounded by people you sort-of know, and definitely don’t know. People trying to figure out what you’re like, who you are, and trying to get to know you. It’s overwhelming, and you can’t run anymore. But maybe, maybe this is okay...

Hanzo and some of the older Overwatch though? They stand off to the side. They kind of pity Hanzo, but don’t really say it because they know he’ll be pissed. (On top of that, Ana kind of knows you had a thing for Gabriel back in the day--not sure if it was because of respect or if it was an actual crush, but eh.)

Think about it. it took Hanzo probably forever to get into a relationship. He has eyes only for ‘you’, but not the past you, the future ‘you’ who encouraged him and listened and just was so patient with him. Now, he doesn’t even know you, but it hurts to see your face because it’s the same person he loves, but...not.

And then, what about you? Would you still end up loving him in the end? It’s terrifying to know what ‘your’ younger self would do, if they’d like him, if they’d even fall in love with him. It’s stressful, okay?

So he does everything in his power to keep your relationship with him a secret. Even goes as far as to remove all evidence of it. Photos, trinklets, anything. It’s heartbreaking. 

So, everything kind of goes okay. People are friendly to you, doing their best to make you feel at home, you’re still not remembering jack-shit, and get moments where you are seized with fear because it’s all make-believe and everyone’s just tolerating you until the ‘you’ that they know gets back and the current you disappears.

You sometimes see it with the younger ones, who talk to you like you’re someone else. 

With the old Overwatch crew, you can see them hesitate sometimes when talking to you. Soldier, Ana, Mercy, Reinhardt, and Torbjorn are the only ones who really take it into stride--almost treat you just like you remember the way it should be. Until you really look at them and remember, no, it’s not the same.

And that fucking guy with the tattoo who glares at you all the time doesn’t fucking help. But you glare at him all the same because if he wants a fight, he gets one.

Hanzo, you learn his name later on. Everyone’s acting weird about him, and so you pick up on that and basically size him up. “You have a problem with me?” “Come over here and face me, I ain’t afraid of you.” It’s like 30% real and 65% bravado. The other 5% is just for fun. He never engages you, and it makes you seriously wonder about your other self’s relation to this guy. 

You spend a lot of time wondering about ‘your’ relation to other people, but don’t ask. No need to hit home the fact that you’re potentially unwanted.

Hanzo, on the other hand, is not taking this very well. He’s reverted back to his old prickly self where he can’t approach you, but can’t help watching over you. Because even though you have no idea who he is, even through the last conversation he had with you was really more of a screaming match (which he will wholly take responsibility for because a fight about the safety of the members vs. the mission should’ve never even been a question in the first place), even though you’re not ‘you’, he still cares about you.

Genji has tried to get you both to talk, but it never goes well. Your old personality does not match the person he knows despite the fact that you look like ‘you’ and that this you is just a different version of the ‘you’ he loved--loves--he just can’t do this shit and that starts up a whole new thing. 

You eventually corner him, challenging to a contest or a sparring match. Because that’s how everyone in Reyes’s command dealt with internal issues. You got beef with someone? Fight it out. Cards, drinking contest, sparring, boxing, video games, you name it. That was the old way.

This fucker just stares at you and goes, “No.” Now you’re offended because what sort of asshole does that? So you do the thing that was natural--no, not back off, that’s too reasonable--you fucking confront him about his damage.

 And that was a bad idea. Because as much as Hanzo cares, he did not fall for a you who’s ten years younger in the body of the person he loves, and this situation stresses him out more than you know.

“Enough! You may have her body, but I do not acknowledge you as her, you imposter!”

....

....

Oh shit. The anxiety and fear and everything comes and drowns you all at once. You knew it was true, that everyone was just tolerating you, and everyone’s just waiting for the future ‘you’ to come back. So you do what you should’ve done in the first place, you run. Because this is not your home, this is not where you belong. You have no one here for you, and you need to leave. NOW. 

Hanzo cannot regret his words fast enough, and it’s not long before people are either running after you or telling him to run after you. He goes because he’ll be fucking damned if this plays out the same way as last time--the two of you arguing before you wind up in a hospital bed without any way of anyone knowing if you’d ever awaken.

I have no idea what goes beyond this point. Just angst. Maybe an encounter with Talon and Reaper. I don’t know. I’m surprised you even made it this far. 

BAD END: You never get your memories back. You leave Overwatch, and try to pick up the pieces of your life. But unfortunately, Talon is still after Overwatch members. An experienced body with an inexperienced mind--no match for Talon’s best. I’m sorry to say, but it ends for you.

Normal End: You stay with Overwatch, you remember bits and pieces, but you never rekindle your relationship with Hanzo. He doesn’t initiate anything, and you just don’t ever recover from the fact that he hates(?) you.

Good End: You slowly regain your memories, start to remember people and Hanzo becomes more patient and starts to appreciate the ‘new’ you. It goes well. You carve a space for yourself in Overwatch as the ‘new’ you, the ‘you’ that everyone knows from this time period is pretty much gone. But everyone learns to accept it, and it’s fine.

This should probably be the best end, but eh.

BEST/DISNEY END: You remember. You fucking remember everything. The first to know is Hanzo, who you call to your room and he’s nervous as fuck because the two of you aren’t a thing anymore, so does that mean your younger self is into him?

The first thing you do is apologize for the argument you guys had way back before you lost your memories. One moment he’s confused, the next he’s scrambling to get you in his arms because this can’t be happening. It’s a cruel joke, but holy shit he wants to believe, and you assure him that you remember and start rattling off things like the place you first kissed (Ecopoint: Antarctica and nearly froze to death), what his favorite food was (miso soup made with a combination of 2:6 red miso:white miso), and so on.

Hanzo just breaks down, apologizing and thanking you for coming back and he just keeps going. You’re back to being the one who comforts him, but you are totally crying, too.

There’s some fluffy angst because this disaster is finally over, he got to apologize, and you’re back with him and still love him.

Everyone else is kinda happy that you’re back to normal, well as normal as can be. 

You guys live happily ever after. The end.

#that was long #very sorry about that but I just had this idea that I don't know how to write for #because my writing is just full of unnecessary exposition #and brevity is the soul of not-me #hanzo x reader #my writing

[unproduciblesmackdown]

classic saturday night activity for me to speedrun [marge simpson laughing to marge simpson concerned / pensive groan] on my own post by kicking things off like “haha it’s funny how potentially the thing for winston is if he has a crush on anyone he just has to hope they like him back b/c Appealing Winningly to anyone is not an option for him XD” to “oh right, actually that’s sad b/c i’m Earnest about this character” lmfao & then catch me 5 min later getting quietly upset about the moment where winston is reasonably visibly discouraged by rian, with inebriatedly mysterious intent, specifies that a quality of winston’s is only attractive to her Abstractly when coming from him in particular, & yet there is not really any recourse for him but to either give up on this crush completely (probably extra difficult at that moment anyways, what with the collective lack of sobriety) or just kind of keep the pace with trying to appeal to her whether or not it’s hopeless which it might be b/c it also often comes back to “if we’re supposed to recognize that nobody could just Like winston” i’m bitter lmfao even if one does bring it upon oneself simply by caring too earnestly about any billions character......the quant may be somewhat insulated from the [emotional hurt & tumult] shredder but on the other hand his feelings may not matter at all due to them potentially not mattering to any other characters & me resenting this possibility b/c well it matters to me b/c you took your wouldbe one off joke character & were (wisely & righteously) like actually he’s very human & since i’m posting the gif i gotta bring it around to that moment, like, first of all of course i’m always noticing & considering all the instances of “winston getting outwardly discouraged / put out at the end of an exchange” & going :[ about it b/c it happens so often without much balancing it out re: being even a small, unmitigated Win for him, & this Moment with rian is one of the few times we see him thusly discouraged by someone’s response to his efforts to have a positive interaction but then also just sort of forge ahead vs just withdrawing & if this is all some extended “well of course nobody Likes winston or much likes him either” i’m going to be like what tf billions. but if it’s also like “once again if someone does like winston in any way, it must be In Spite Of him, really” i will also be unamused. like makes sense if rian has to warm to someone she just met & who Did try to antagonize her upon their first meeting but what’s the point if it’s like “well, rian just dislikes winston in a different way from everyone else” l o l. tl;dr [i think about winston for 10 sec, &/or humorously comment on his L’s, & then become genuinely put out myself lmao] classic saturday night like i said

#saturday nights Are for marinating some quiet distress about billions [in that when it airs an ep releases at midnight...] #winston billions #kneejerk approach like I Apologize For Caring About This Character So Much but then going wait tf no i do not lmao #To Whom! no one but myself ig & i accept that fate. hence the [everything since march 21st 2019] #if anything i'm On The Offensive re: being invested (haha) in the quant #grr i hate [the potential that winston as As Much A Person as any other characters / winston's feelings are not regarded Seriously] #rips a door off the hinges #and again the mystery like. say rian Is just like ''haha god no are you kidding'' re: Liking Winston #and so then winston withdraws in concluding discouragement....would that be the End of that subplot; what would be the point of it #b/c we've seen that [F in the chat for winston] ending to plenty of scenes & that's just The End. he goes back to work presumably #if this is just some elaborate ''let's have winston feel kind of bad about something but n a new way this time via having romantic interest' #seems unnecessary lol #but anyways yknow like. if we could get Confirmation that one character; i.e. Rian whether or not she Likes him in a crushly way; does take #winston seriously as a person who also has feelings......well that would be nice #i remember we do not know that anyone else is at all interested in him like this even as a Regular Friend and i get annoyed / smad