#got me needing to crawl through the code to give him a hug

[abyssyby]

what are your opinions on syslus getting jealous? like i usually don't consider him as someone who would get jealous, but i do eat those fics up and wonder in what circumstances he might actually experience jealousy (as in romantic ofc)

wanted to know your opinions because i love your characterization of him the most (you could write something with that too if you're comfortable, id be very grateful)

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: hi anon! dw, i eat those jealousy fics up too— love it when he gets all huffy n puffy over someone else getting your attention ngl.

i personally think, given his draconic qualities of wanting and needing to hoard, claim and possess, sylus is inclined to be one to get jealous. not simply because he’s petty and he doesn’t like others looking at or touching what is his (though i see him disliking that very much too)—but because he will always have the wounds of isolation in his heart. Though he portrays himself to be incredibly secure and collected, he still hoards each ill-gotten memory of abandonment and rejection like etchings in his bones. 

and now that he has you— who chose to be with him, to belong with him, to bind your soul to him so that he would never live or die alone—he bears the incredible weight of being unworthy of the one who loves him. 

so to me, his jealousy is rooted in this: this belief that no one has wanted him before you, and so why now? the pain of not being all you need, because you should be able to lean on him, rely on him on anything your heart desires. the trauma of being seen as a monster; when will you snap out of it and find someone easier to love? 

and though he tries to keep himself in check, communicate as much of the things that shake his heart and wound his loyalty, sometimes in can get a little much for him too

sylus x reader | angst, comfort, fluff, jealous!sylus, clingy!sylus, exploring a few deeper wounds of his jealousy!

“You like him—your partner.” he points out one evening as he walks beside you beneath the canopy of falling golden leaves. dried foliage crunch beneath your feet as you stroll down the paved path between the rows of overarching trees. 

He’d come to pick you up at the association, one hand occupied with a canvas holder with two tall cups of boba tea. 

He waited on a bench across the street, mindful of how people perceive him. Considering how you’ve stressed about your colleagues seeing him out in the open and fraternizing with you. 

So he wears his cap to hide his hair and his sunglasses despite the sunset to hide his eyes, changed his leather coat into a long, brown velvet one. He waits until you notice his presence, instead of ambushing you into their territory, as you so colorfully put. 

There, as he waited, he saw you emerge from the double doors speaking lightly to another man he recognized as the one you are paired off with often. One you’d mentioned was your hunting partner— assigned, designated, and in someways, chosen. 

You slurp at the straw, boba congealed into a mutated blob restricting any airflow into your mouth. “Hm?” 

He knows you’re listening, he resumes his musings. Needs to keep speaking, fueled by the bubbling bile in the base of his throat he absolutely despises feeling. “You seem comfortable.” 

The tone is unmistakable— it wasn’t accusing or a jab, but a mindful observation drenched in a distant dismalness. Giving your lungs a rest at trying to inhale your drink, you look up at him. His eyes are far off, the smoothness between his brows are crumpled, so minuscule only you could have caught it. And his soul, intertwined with yours, flickers like a candle disrupted by a breeze. 

“We’re friends,” you tell him, preferring his warm hand now to the cup, lending an icy one to his searing touch. His shoulders melt, fingers close in on yours like he’d been dangling from the edge of a cliff, now relieved to have found leverage. 

You continue. “He’s very kind.” 

“I’m glad to hear that, sweetie.” he says, although it comes out monotonous. Words from a script he simply read on cue. Your brows furrow, and you feel that flicker again. 

You dig your heels into the dirt and tug him to a stop with you. With a sigh, he parallels you and meets your gaze. 

“Sylus—,” 

“Your day is the most important of all the reports I listen to, your gossip, your rants, your rambles.” he knows he might be talking too much now, that it might be overdoing his sorrow, but… 

When he saw you exiting with your partner, laughing hysterically at just a single word from him. So simple, so basic. Likely taken out of context, an inside joke or a tail end to the rest of an unheard story. 

But when he heard such a laugh for the first time from you and he was far from the cause of it. When he saw how much you actually talked with your hands and your face more than your words, how you spoke and spoke and spoke to your partner in those few moments more than you ever did to him. 

He felt it in his chest—muscle tearing open fiber by fiber. In his lungs that fill with smoke. And in his mind, the beast, snarling at him to take you away. 

And to what? back to him who could never make you do the same? to him who grates on your nerves? to him who is so difficult to remember, however more to love? 

His face is a mixture of anguish and disappointment, a storm raging behind his carmine eyes that focus on your face. Eyes that search yours for any confirmation, any indication that you want to go—leave. Because you should prefer ease, you should prefer comfort and security. 

While he can give you all of that, he can give you anything you wish for and all it takes is for you to say it out loud— it will always come with a cost. 

His life is danger. His being is monstrous. His love is scorching. 

Your cold boba-tea frozen hand is a balm to the world in his mind that alights itself in flames as you cradle his face. His hand comes up to hold yours, press it closer to his skin. He shuts his eyes, breathes in the scent of your wrist— pulse and perfume. “Do you wish more from me?” 

“Oh, Sylus.” you frown, quick to pull him down and plant a cold kiss on his cheek. A grumble escapes his throat as he leans into you, fully lets his head fall onto your shoulder. Closer, closer, closer. “No.”

“I want to claim all your laughter. Have my ears be the only one that hears it.” his words rumble in his chest, rough and aching—like it hurts him to admit.

His voice is reminiscent of a tremble of thunder, rattling stained windows of a cathedral; such power in a whisper.

“I want to be all you need. All you want.” he grounds out into your ear. Your knees buckle at the weight of his confession. He holds you to him by your waist, positioning you in a firm cage of his arms.

Outside, you are a picture of two bundled up lovers sharing an innocent embrace, caressed by the autumnal breeze. Seeking warmth in each other. 

But beyond appearances, you are a raft Sylus is desperately clinging to as he is cast out to an angry sea. Inside, he fights the battle between making sure you are his and being a reasonable, rational partner. 

He nuzzles his nose into your neck, uses your scent to keep himself from causing a scene or saying something that might scare you off more. He only wants to do right by you, only wants to be what you deserve. 

And he’s stronger than this petty jealousy that courses through his veins at the sight of you giving someone else a smile he wants to have too— like the morning sun he wants to usher into the darkness. He wants it, like a deprived child, he wants it to be mine, mine, mine.

“What did he say to you?” he asks plainly, resolve slipping from his fingers at the memory of your laughter. Growls it. Cringes as he says it, but his head is too filled with smoke that he can’t find his filter.

Your throat dries. His voice is entirely different now, a caving of the earth, lightning striking a tree open in a forest. For a moment, fear grips your heart, but it dissipates just as quickly as it comes when you see his eyes.

Red rubies, a diamond slit of obsidian right in their centers. His brows knit painfully together, like he’s warring with something. Holding it back and keeping it from attacking you. 

“Nothing.” you say, and immediately you know it’s the wrong answer.

He looks away. Not because he dislikes your answer, although he very much does, but because of the way you say it. 

Whispered, careful, guarded. 

Proving his fears to be true. How can he ask you to love a monster? He isn’t easy, he’s far from it, he can be meticulous and cold and absent—all of which you don’t deserve. It’s not a choice he’d make for you, so why would you choose him? 

“Nothing I can remember now, Sylus.” your voice cuts through his thoughts like bullet in cold air. He finds you catching his gaze, begging him to look back at you. Your fingers catch his chin, like he does to you so many times, and guide him back home. “Not now that I’m with you.” 

His heart swells thrice its size at your reassurance. At how your careful fingers remove his hat and brush away the matted down hair by his ears. How you kiss his cheeks, his nose, his mouth—uncaring of who might see or catch you. Uncaring of getting caught. So willing to show the world he is yours. 

How you see right through him. That despite his humiliating show of possession, you pinpoint its exact origins. 

“Tell me what you’re afraid of.” you’re so calm and he is filled with gratitude. You lead him to a nearby bench and he practically curls himself around you as you sit. His arm wounds around your shoulders, slips his knee beneath your thigh so your one leg dangles off of his, and his nose is buried back into the junction between your jaw and your throat. 

“I want you to be happy.” he says, hesitant. His mouth moves, opens like he needs to say more— but no other words follow. 

“I am happy.” you nudge him gently. “My boyfriend picked me up from work today, and he looked handsome in his new coat. And he gave me boba tea.” 

He snorts, fingers splaying out on yours as you begin to play with the ring on his middle. He’s keenly aware of the wind that blows your hair in your face, his other hand comes up to shield your eyes and hold some bundles back behind your ear. Painfully honest, he whispers, “I’ve never heard you laugh like that.”

You lean your cheek onto the top of his head. You feel his lungs draw breath, even and slow, but know his heart is racing. He seems to fixate on the ring you spin on his finger, brushing his thumb over the nail of yours as if to encourage you to keep doing it. 

Leaning deeper into his frustrations, you ask, “Does it sound different?” 

He snuffs, a dragon puffing smoke out his nostrils. “It was radiant.” he says, breaking your heart even more. 

You pause, scooting that little bit closer to him as the dimming sky turns the air into a nipping chill. You huddle close and lend him your undivided attention. 

“I hate that it was for someone else.” he confesses quietly. 

You brush his cheek. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t make me happy, sylus.” 

His eyes squeeze shut as you ask, “You’ve made me laugh plenty of times, my love, help me understand why this shook you so much?” 

You’re lost. After everything you’ve been through, all you’ve shared, you can’t help but feel the sting of distrust as he worries for your loyalty. And rarely is he like this, aside from the times he acts on his jealousy— pulling you close, making sure whoever tries his or her hand at claiming you knows who they would be up against by a press of his lips to your temple or a caress of his hardened fingers to the soft curve of your jaw. 

But the way he is now—genuinely upset, wary and at the verge of a quiet surrender he struggles not to make a show of—makes you mourn something that looms in the distance. What if he thinks you’ve but put a mask on before him? or does he not believe that who you are with him is the barest form of you there is? You believe firmly he does not think so little of you that you would prefer someone else over him, but… 

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing to push his anxiety down. You’re relieved to see him so open to share, at least. Look forward to him bringing you some clarity. But you don’t expect clarity to come in the form of jagged shards of broken glass. 

“In the worst of my nightmares, there is one thing that truly petrifies me.” slowly, he takes your fingers in his and brings them up to his lips to cool them with his breath. thawing the freeze, keeping you comfortable. “And that’s when you look at me, turn and walk away.”

You hold your breath, because you’re sure that the next one you let out will usher with it the tears that burn behind your eyes. 

“When you see—truly see—the fiend I was. the monster I am.” he mutters, a muscle in his jaw feathering at how tightly he’s clenching his teeth. “How shameless and greedy I am—how proud I am to be. 

“And you, my dove. Beautiful, brilliant sun. Why burn to ashes when you can burn in light?” 

It’s silent.

Whether it was the cold or the tension, you don’t have time to figure it out before you’re trembling. Ribs rattling, muscles tensing. It is your turn to use him as a raft as you drown in his devotion. For now, you see—that as much as he loves you, he thinks he is poisoning you. Knowing that, his fears then lie there: that his poison has begun to spread and will be the cause of his loss of you. 

“Stupid.” you choke, squeezing your arms around his shoulders, pressing your tear-streaked face into his neck. Then, you laugh, grim and wet and raw—a laugh you yourself had never heard before. “Idiot dragon.” 

He wraps you in his coat and rubs circles on your lower back. The park has cleared, a single streetlamp illuminates the pair of you. There is no sound but the rustle of leaves and the thrumming of your hearts. 

“I burn where I want to.” you grit—not angrily, just through the uncontrollable rattling of your jaw. “I burn with you.” 

He stares. To say he was taken aback by your words would be an understatement. He is dizzy, knocked back and shattered into a wall. He could crumple at your feet, he could kiss you until you both see stars. 

“We were talking about some dumb lunch thing where another hunter took the last empanada right before his eyes and before he could cuss her out, it turned out to be the captain and I thought it was funny because it happened to me last week and now it’s all so trivial and it’s not even funny—“ you ramble, words stuttered and stumbling out of your mouth like a waterfall. explaining yourself, doing everything you think will soothe the earthquakes in his mind. 

As you speak, Sylus watches you with the softest of looks. wiping stray tears away with light fingers, brushing more of your hair back from your eyes, placing his palms over your cold cheeks, your frozen ears—you barely notice, too engrossed in telling him everything. Anything, really, to show him that he will always be ground zero. He will always be the only one ever to witness you as your purest self. 

and you doing so means worlds to him. 

“And this afternoon, Tara was supposed to—don’t, don’t kiss me! I have snot!” you shriek as he leans to press his warm lips to your freezing face. he chuckles as you scream, drawing you closer, closer, closer. Saying I don’t care with his actions as he kisses you anyway. Slow, warm and consuming. I love you.

And so easily, he forgets why he ever doubted you, feared you’d love him any less than what you already show him. When you so simply complete his day with your voice, when you so effortlessly choose to love him then and now. He places his heart back in your hands, unconscious how he’d clutched it tight in his, and feels the weightless joy you wash over him once more. 

He tucks your squeals into the chest of treasures in his mind, along with the atrocious laugh you gifted him as you called him stupid. Never mind the one you gave your hunting partner now, his is much better.

Your light is his to hold, keep and hoard for eternity—and you, yourself, offered it to him as you burn.

✧˚ ⋆｡ more sylus thoughts ✧˚ ⋆｡

thank you so much for sending in this ask & for reading! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[actuallybean]

Holy Virgin* | Part Fourteen

You've shared everything with Sam but one thing—your faith. It’s never been a problem… until Heaven turns its gaze on you, and suddenly, devotion takes on a darker meaning. *Contains sexual material, pregnancy, thoughts of suicide/attempted suicide, virginity and has some religious themes: Minors DNI Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader (Platonic), Castiel x Reader (Platonic) Tag list: @mostlymarvelgirl @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @catsinacottage Part Fifteen Supernatural Masterlist | Main Masterlist

After days of silence, hushed prayers, and dread cloaking every hallway, the morning brought something that almost felt like peace. The faint gurgle of the coffee maker, the metallic scrape of forks over plates from the kitchen, the low rumble of Led Zeppelin leaking from someone’s headphones — these were the small signs of life coming back to center.

You stretched, warm under your blanket on the couch, still nestled between the comfort of old flannel and the rhythmic sound of Sam’s quiet breathing beside you. His long frame had somehow folded into the couch, and one of his arms still rested protectively across your thigh, his hand lightly curled over the swell of your belly. You smiled, fingers brushing over his knuckles. Safe. At least for now.

Eventually, you slipped out gently from under his arm, careful not to wake him. You wandered barefoot through the hallway, hoodie slung over your sleep shirt, a soft chill crawling over your legs. One hand instinctively supported your bump as you descended the steps into the war room.

Dean was already there.

He stood over the war table, eyes narrowed at a thick manila folder while sipping coffee from a mug that read ‘Best Monster Hunter In The Midwest.’ His laptop screen showed several open tabs: midwife forums, natural birthing articles, even one titled ‘How to Birth in a Barn if the World Ends.’

“You planning on becoming a doula now?” you teased.

Dean didn’t even look up. “Only if I get a cool vest and a walkie-talkie. Pretty sure that’s standard.”

You grinned, slowly stepping closer. “You know that’s not what doulas do, right?”

“Well, excuse me if I don’t have a uterus. I’m working with what I got here.”

You laughed, then perched on the edge of the war table. “Where’s Sam?”

You gestured toward the hallway. “Still out cold on the couch. I’m giving Sleeping Beauty his rest. He was up until 3AM reading about cervical dilation like it was the Da Vinci Code.”

Dean raised a brow. “Wow. That’s dedication.”

“Yeah, well,” You sighed and sat down. “This ain’t exactly a ‘wing it’ situation. No hospitals. No docs. No anesthesia. Just good old-fashioned pain and prayer.”

There was a beat of silence.

You swallowed. “You think it’s stupid that I came down here to talk baby names?”

Dean looked up, his expression softening. “No. I think it’s the most normal thing you’ve said in days.”

You hesitated, brushing your hair behind your ear. “If it’s a girl… I was thinking Mary. For your mom. If that’s okay.”

Dean blinked — just once — and something flickered behind his eyes, something sharp and fast and grateful. He cleared his throat, looking away for a second like he needed the composure.

“Yeah,” he said, voice lower. “That’d be real nice.”

“And for a boy… I haven’t figured that out yet. Maybe something strong. Biblical, but not like plague and doom biblical.”

Dean chuckled. “No Abaddons or Malachi Jr.’s?”

You rolled your eyes, hugging your hoodie a little closer around your stomach. “Definitely not.”

“Okay, okay,” came a sleepy, gravel-dragged voice from behind. “What about something classic? Like… Chris”

You turned your head to see Sam padding barefoot into the war room, hair tousled from sleep, wearing an old MIT sweatshirt and the faint imprint of the couch’s armrest pressed into his cheek. He rubbed the back of his neck and blinked at the table full of research.

Dean snorted. “Chris? Really? That’s the hill you wanna die on?”

Sam shot him a look. “It’s a solid name.”

Dean took a long sip from his mug and muttered, “Yeah, real solid… just rolls off the tongue while someone’s yelling at you.”

You laughed, grateful for the familiar rhythm of their banter. For a moment, it felt like old times — before Heaven came knocking, before prophecies and visions, before divine pregnancies and holy warnings.

You shook your head. “I don’t know. I want something meaningful, but not heavy, you know? Something that doesn’t carry too much history, but still feels strong.”

Dean leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “What about Jesus the Second?”

Sam stopped mid-step, eyebrow arched. “You’re kidding.”

Dean grinned. “I’m just sayin’. You are the modern-day Virgin Mary. Feels like the natural progression.”

You deadpanned. “Dean. I’m not naming my kid Jesus the Second.”

“But think about it,” he pressed, dramatically gesturing to the air like he could already see the name in lights. “You’re in a Walmart, someone calls it out — the entire store partly kneels. That’s power.”

You let out a laugh so loud it echoed off the war room walls. Sam rolled his eyes, but there was a grin tugging at his lips as he came to sit beside you on the edge of the table.

“Don’t encourage him,” Sam said as he gently bumped your knee with his.

Dean raised both hands. “Hey, I’m just brainstorming here. You don’t like Jesus the Second, we can always fall back on something classy. Like Chad.”

You groaned. “Please no. I’d rather name the baby Lucifer before I name him Chad.”

Sam chuckled. “That’s fair.”

There was a lull — a warm, thoughtful silence.

Sam gently placed a hand over your bump, just as Dean had done last night. His palm was large and careful, as though he could feel every flutter beneath the surface.

“You feeling okay this morning?” he asked softly.

You nodded. “Yeah. Just… needed to see you guys. Needed to laugh a little. Things felt normal again, for a second.”

Sam offered a faint, hopeful smile. “We can still have that… as much of it as we’re allowed.”

Your heart softened. You reached for him, brushing your fingers gently against his cheek before leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips — soft, brief, but full of warmth.

Dean stood and reached across the table for a notebook, flipping to a half-scribbled page. “Okay, what if we made an actual list? We got time. We workshop it like a movie script. Something with gravitas.”

You grinned, propping your chin on your hand. “Something that sounds good when you yell it across a playground or whisper it during a prayer.”

Dean raised his mug like a toast. “To the future badass, whatever their name ends up being.”

Sam added, “And to you. For still being able to laugh through this.”

You smiled at them both — your family, your protection, your anchors — and felt something shift inside you. Something not divine, not holy or prophesied. Just simple, grounded hope.

Then — the room began to shimmer.

Not physically — not in light — but in pressure. Like the air had suddenly thickened. The blood drained from your face before you could even process it.

Sam noticed first. “Hey—hey, are you okay?”

Your lips parted, but the sentence never came.

Your head jerked back. Eyes wide — and then rolling white.

Sam lunged forward just in time to catch you as your knees gave out.

“Shit—SAM!” Dean shouted. “She’s seizing!”

Sam caught your head, gently cradling it, panic flashing across his face. “She’s not shaking—she’s stiff. It’s a vision. She’s having another vision!”

Dean’s voice dropped to a raw whisper. “Goddammit. Come on, sweetheart. Breathe!”

✦

The world came in pieces. Disjointed. Blinding.

Blood. Heat. Your own scream ripping through the air like thunder.

You were in labor — that much was clear. Harsh white light burned your eyes as your legs trembled, braced and pulled back by steady hands. The room swam in sweat and panic, thick with urgency.

Sam’s voice pierced the haze — desperate, breaking, somewhere close. Dean was shouting, but you couldn’t tell if it was at you, at God, or just into the chaos.

You couldn’t see the baby. Not yet.

But you saw yourself — hunched forward, spine curved like a bow drawn to its limit, your face ghost-pale and drenched in effort. There was blood. A terrifying amount of it, dark and slick and spreading fast between your thighs. You gripped the sheets, soaked and clinging, as if they were the only thing anchoring you to life.

A baby cried — high, alive, echoing somewhere just out of reach.

But before your eyes could find them, before your arms could reach, your vision blurred. Your breath caught. You watched yourself collapse back against the mattress, still breathing — but barely. Still here — but only just.

And then, like a pane of glass cracking from within, the light shattered — and the vision was gone.

✦

Your body seized once—an uncontrollable jolt that shot down your spine like a current—and then everything went limp.

The world dropped out beneath you.

You collapsed fully into Sam’s arms, boneless and trembling. His warmth surrounded you instantly, strong arms pulling you tight against his chest as your body shuddered and your lungs fought for air.

“Hey—hey,” Sam breathed urgently, holding you like something fragile. “You’re okay. I got you. You’re okay.”

Your eyes fluttered open, but they didn’t register much at first—just shapes, shadows, the golden ring of the war room lights spinning above you like halos.

Then Dean’s face came into focus, hovering just over Sam’s shoulder. His eyes were wide with panic, jaw clenched, trying not to look as scared as he felt.

“You with us?” he asked, voice rough, grounding. “C’mon, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

Your lips parted on a ragged, gasping breath. “I… I think so.”

Sam exhaled with visible relief, adjusting his grip so you were cradled closer against him, one hand curled behind your head, the other rubbing gentle circles into your lower back.

Dean stayed kneeling beside him, tense and ready. “What was that?”

Your eyes darted between them. Your voice came out cracked, hoarse like it had been scraped raw from the inside. “I think I had a vision... I saw the birth. But this time…”

Your stomach lurched. You tried to sit up but Sam anchored you carefully, his large hands warm against your ribs. “Take it slow,” he murmured.

You blinked up at them, dazed. “This time… I felt it. The pain. All of it.”

A beat passed.

Dean’s throat bobbed as he swallowed hard. “But you made it, right? Like—like in the vision? You’re okay in the end?”

You hesitated. The silence stretched too long. The edges of your fingers tingled from leftover shock. Your heart thundered like it had been chasing something holy and horrible at once.

“I—I don’t know,” you whispered, trembling. “There was so much blood…”

Dean’s mouth opened, then shut again. He looked at Sam, who didn’t say anything—just held you closer, like he could protect you from a prophecy with sheer will.

Dean finally spoke again, his voice tighter this time. “You’re not gonna die, alright? Mary didn’t die, so why would God change that now? Huh?”

His words felt like a question aimed more at Heaven than at you. Like he was praying someone—anyone—was still listening.

Sam let out a breath through his nose, and when you looked up at him, he gave you the smallest, softest smile.

“You’re here,” he said simply. “That’s what matters right now.”

He shifted your weight slightly so your legs weren’t folded uncomfortably beneath you. You realized only then how badly you were shaking. Your knees felt like water, your hands cold and useless against the heat of Sam’s chest.

His fingers found your side and moved in slow, grounding strokes—up, down, up again—anchoring you to the present, to him.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated. His lips brushed your hair. “I’ll always have you.”

You let your head rest against his shoulder. His flannel was soft, and it smelled like cedar and safety. For a moment, you just breathed—his heartbeat thudding steady beneath your ear, his hand never still against your side.

But Dean was still watching.

You lifted your eyes to him, quietly wrecked.

“There was a moment… when I thought I was going to die. Not from fear. From purpose. Like I wasn’t meant to survive it.”

Dean’s face twisted, like your words physically hurt him. “Don’t talk like that. You hear me?”

“I saw it, Dean,” you whispered. “I felt the crown of thorns. I felt… fire and light and pain like nothing human.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. His hand paused for a moment, then resumed.

“You’re not alone in this,” he said, almost fierce. “I don’t care what God showed you. You are not doing this alone.”

You didn’t reply. You couldn’t. Not when the ghost of divine agony still echoed in your womb, your lungs, your soul.

But you held on to him—held on—and closed your eyes against the memory.

And for now, that was enough.

✦

The kitchen smelled like burnt toast and old coffee — familiar, homey, but also tinged with the faint, ever-present undercurrent of bunker life: exhaustion, battles fought, prayers whispered in the dark. The morning light filtered through the narrow, barred window, casting long, golden shafts that stretched lazily across the worn linoleum floor and pooled on the kitchen table where you sat.

You were wrapped in one of Sam’s oversized flannel shirts — soft and worn just like you liked — and your favorite leggings, stretched thin in places but still the only things that felt comfortable against your growing belly. Four months along now, and the weight of this new life was becoming more real with every passing day. You traced the curve of your stomach with a gentle hand, feeling the baby’s quiet movements beneath the fabric, a faint flutter that made your chest tighten with equal parts awe and nervousness.

Beside you sat a chipped ceramic mug, stained with the ghosts of a hundred early mornings. Steam rose in delicate curls from the lukewarm tea inside, but you weren’t really drinking it — more holding it like a lifeline, warming your hands against the coolness of the bunker’s still air. The warmth seeped slowly, a quiet comfort on a day that felt both ordinary and extraordinary.

In front of you rested the battered, well-loved baby names notepad — your little project, your secret notebook of hopes and dreams inked in the margins of your life. Its pages were creased from folding and unfolding, smudged with grease from late-night snacks and fingerprints from endless brainstorming sessions.

The notepad was a patchwork of your and Dean’s scribbles, a mixture of the ridiculous and the sincere. There were names scrawled in Dean’s unmistakable bold, all-caps handwriting — names like “JESUS THE SECOND” that had been heavily crossed out with dramatic, angry lines of ink, and a frowny face doodled beside them, almost certainly Sam’s doing. Another of Dean’s ideas, “WINCHESTERELLA,” was similarly obliterated beneath your own impatient, frustrated scribbles. And there, mocking the seriousness of the page, was “BABY YODA,” again in Dean’s handwriting, followed by your emphatic “NO.”

The absurdity of it all made you smile despite the heaviness that hung in your chest. Dean’s attempts at humor — trying to lighten the burden of what was coming — reminded you that no matter how strange and terrifying this journey was, you weren’t walking it alone.

But beneath the layers of crossed-out jokes and silly nicknames, real contenders had begun to emerge. Names you’d carefully collected from ancient scriptures, forgotten saints, prophets, and angelic tongues whispered only in the most secret scrolls of Heaven. Some were circled with hopeful certainty, others lightly erased as second thoughts crept in, but the last two names you’d written remained clear, crisp, and untouched by doubt — the ink darker than the rest, written in your softest cursive.

For a girl: Zahaviah.

The name felt like a secret treasure you’d discovered tucked deep in the pages of a dusty, forgotten biblical lexicon hidden in the bunker’s library. Delicate and rare, it was Hebrew in origin, meaning “golden one of the Lord.” The syllables rolled off your tongue gently, like a prayer and a promise all at once. It felt holy and fierce, a name fit for a child born into battle but kissed by divine light — someone who would carry the fire of faith with a quiet strength.

For a boy: Eliorin.

This name was far more obscure, whispered only in the footnotes of ancient angelic hierarchies and old, secret texts. Derived from El, meaning God, and or, meaning light, the poetic suffix gave it an almost ethereal softness. Light of God. It didn’t carry the weight of judgment or the threat of fire, but rather hope — a beacon shining steadily through the shadows. It was a name that sounded like a promise of peace and protection in a world that desperately needed both.

You stared down at the names for a long moment, your thumb tracing the corner of the page absentmindedly. Beneath the flannel, your belly shifted softly, the baby moving — stretching or kicking, or maybe just reminding you, quietly but insistently, that you were not alone. That life was growing here, fragile but fierce.

Somewhere down the hall, faint music drifted in — Sam’s voice humming along to an old classic from the library where he was probably buried nose-deep in another ancient tome, researching everything he could to keep you safe. Dean was likely elbow-deep in the garage, working on some ridiculous project or trying to figure out how to deliver a baby with nothing but duct tape and a first-aid kit. You could almost hear him muttering under his breath about ‘winging it’ and ‘doing this the Winchester way.’

But here, in this quiet, golden morning light — with just the scratch of pen on paper, the faint warmth of tea, and the gentle rhythm of a new life inside you — something like peace settled over you. It wasn’t the peace of certainty or safety; it was the peace of love, fragile and fierce, anchoring you against the fear.

You picked up the pen again and wrote beneath the names with careful, deliberate strokes:

“Let them be born into love, not fear.”

Your eyes flicked to the margin next to “JESUS THE SECOND,” where you doodled a tiny, mischievous halo. You knew Dean would see it later, probably laugh until he nearly choked on his coffee. For now, that small moment of levity was enough — a reminder that even in the darkest times, laughter was still a kind of salvation.

You sighed softly, setting the pen down, and laid a hand gently over your belly. No matter what came next, you’d face it — with hope, with love, and with family by your side.

✦

The warmth of the kitchen lingered even as the day wore on, but eventually, the pull of routine—or at least the closest thing to it—guided you toward the quiet sanctuary of the bathroom.

You stood for a moment in the doorway, blinking slowly at the fogged-up mirror and the faint scent of eucalyptus from Sam’s body wash. The overhead light hummed softly above you. Your body felt heavier lately, slower, like it was moving to a rhythm only the baby understood. You were beginning to learn the language of discomfort—how to arch your back just right to ease the ache in your spine, how to breathe through the pressure in your hips, how to hold your belly like it needed reassurance even when you were alone.zz

The mirror was already fogged around the edges, but the middle strip still held a reflection — soft, watery, real.

You stood in front of it barefoot, slowly peeling off the oversized flannel shirt you’d stolen from Dean’s closet again that morning. The cotton fell from your shoulders like a curtain, pooling at your feet beside your leggings and underwear, folded with care on the closed toilet lid. The hum of the bathroom light above you was the only sound, along with the slow start of water heating behind the glass pane of the shower.

You looked at yourself.

Really looked.

Four months. It was undeniable now. Your body wasn’t what it had been before. Your waist, once soft and unremarkable, had given way to a gentle curve pushing outward — your belly round and firm like the moon. A subtle line now bisected the skin from ribs to hips, that faint linea nigra marking the quiet miracle underneath. Your breasts were fuller, heavier, nipples darker than you remembered. The skin stretched across your stomach was taut and warm, sensitive to the touch, like it belonged to someone else and only recently returned to you.

Your hips had widened too, and your thighs touched just a little more, your balance just a little off-center. There were tiny, half-moon indents on your lower belly where your nails had unknowingly pressed in recent nights, holding yourself as you dreamed of things too big to say aloud. Sometimes you felt beautiful. Other times foreign. Like a home being renovated while still living in it.

You exhaled softly, resting a hand on the side of your stomach. The baby shifted — not quite a kick, not yet, but a whisper of motion that reminded you they were there. Growing. Becoming.

You turned sideways, cupping your belly from underneath, watching the gentle silhouette of creation. You didn’t feel like a goddess, but you understood why people once believed women who gave birth held divinity in their blood. Because even now, even after everything — the fear, the danger, the impossible story you were living — this felt sacred.

Steam curled around you as the shower reached its rhythm. You stepped inside, letting the warmth spill over your shoulders, your back, sliding down your skin in ribbons. The water clung to your lashes, kissed your collarbones, filled the air with that comforting sound of safety. You pressed your palms to the cool tile and just stood there for a while, letting yourself feel everything and nothing at once.

You didn’t hear the door open.

But you knew him.

Sam’s voice came gently above the rush of water, quiet enough that you had to turn your head toward the sound. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You blinked the steam from your eyes, and he was there — bare-chested, barefoot, loose pajama pants riding low on his hips, hair a little damp already from where he’d run his fingers through it. His eyes were gentle, almost shy, his hands fidgeting slightly by his sides like he wasn’t sure you’d want him there.

“Come in,” you said, smiling softly.

Sam entered like the air itself bowed to his frame. He stepped in, slow and careful, reaching out to slide the glass door shut behind him, enclosing the two of you in mist and warmth. You felt his body heat mingle with the shower’s. Felt his hesitation melt the moment he saw you — all of you — and did not flinch.

His hands, large and warm, rose to rest lightly on your sides. Then, without asking, he lowered them, palms spreading gently across the curve of your belly, reverent and slow. His touch wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t greedy. It was sacred.

“They’ve grown,” he whispered.

You smiled, a little laugh in your throat. “So have I.”

He glanced up, his gaze sweeping over you as if taking stock of every inch of your changed form. “You’re beautiful,” he said. And he meant it — every syllable.

“You have to say that,” you teased.

“I don’t,” he said. “But I do anyway.”

His thumbs brushed delicate circles across the roundest part of your belly. Your skin quivered under the touch, and you felt the baby move faintly again — not a kick, just a hello.

Sam dropped his forehead against yours, eyes fluttering closed. The water streamed over both of you, clinging to his shoulders, running down your spine. “I love you,” he murmured. “I love this baby. I love this—us.”

You rested your head on his chest, your hand over his heart. “Do you think it’ll ever stop being terrifying?”

“I hope not,” he said, pulling back just enough to look you in the eye. “Because if it stops being terrifying, it means we stopped caring.”

There was a silence — soft, comforting. Then, almost too casually, Sam added, “So… I was thinking. You know. When this is all over. When you’re not glowing like the Virgin Mary and terrifying Heaven on a daily basis…”

You raised an eyebrow.

“…maybe you’d wanna marry me?” he said.

Just like that.

No ring. No kneeling. No plan. Just Sam Winchester, half-naked in a shower, hands on your belly, offering his forever like it was the most obvious next step.

You blinked.

He cringed a little. “Okay, okay — that sounded better in my head.”

You started to laugh. You couldn’t help it. “You asked me to marry you in the shower. While I’m huge. And naked.”

“And glowing,” he offered.

You rolled your eyes and pulled him down into a kiss — slow, full, grateful. It wasn’t passionate. It wasn’t hurried. It was quiet and clean and lovely.

When you pulled away, your forehead rested against his again. “Yes.”

He froze.

“Yes?” he repeated, like he hadn’t heard right.

You nodded, and this time tears swam in both your eyes.

“I’ll say it again when we’re dry and you’re not worried about soap in your eyes,” you teased. “But yeah. Yes.”

And in the warmth of that small bunker shower, under the water and hope and steam, Sam kissed you again. His hands stayed over your stomach the entire time. And the baby moved, ever so slightly, like they knew — like they understood that love was being built all around them.

[respectthepetty]

I crawled through sixteen episodes of Fourever You, so I could drag myself into the finale for THIS color coding! I had my doubts in some of these episodes, but here I am, living my best color-coded life because North is a Green Guy and Johan IS a Red Rascal.

And now that they are together, they perfectly complement each other as two chile peppers would!

Hill and Ter are also two great color-coded boys in love since bright and happy Yellow Yal Ter brought reserved and quiet Blue Boy Hill out of his shell.

EVERYONE IS COLOR CODED AND IN LOVE!

Well, expect for Typhoon, but his sad story is coming in Part Two, which I better be getting this year like Director New said. Or else!

Because I also want to know about his little friend Dao's spicy story with Arthit!

Oh, and apparently the continuation of Tiger and Duennao's story too.

Since they still aren't a couple; they just act like it six days a week.

But back to the couples who are official couples being cute.

Well, and Johan being so possessive that he won't even let his mom hug North. Peak Red Rascal behavior. Love to see it in fictional men.

Johan keeps up the behavior when they go home to visit their families. He hides his Green Guy behind him as he tries to not act his red color.

But that doesn't last long since he argues with his father at the slightest hint of his man's name on his dad's lips.

So even though The Alamo shirt looks blue, it feels green to me since North is truly the only thing keeping his man calm at any given moment.

All Johan needs is to look at North, and the entire world ceases to exist. Look at Johan. He ain't listening. He hasn't heard one word from North's pretty little mouth.

All he heard was North would leave him, and he jumped into sugar daddy mode. He said, "take all my money because I already gave you my heart." North, buy a bouncy house. No! A bouncy CASTLE! Use that man's money for good.

And invite your bestie Ter since he is going through it as he visits not only his family which includes the dad who yelled at him for being gay, but also Hill's family which includes the grandpa who separated them for being gay. It's a homophobe hoedown.

I know it's a lot, but they have each other!

And Ter has a sister and a mom rooting for them as the mom wears Hill's blue, and the sister is basically a Pride flag.

Plus Hill's grandma is not only supportive, but she kept the blue birthday jar Ter gave Hill in his room, so the women in these families are getting a spring wedding from these two even if Hill and Ter don't know it yet.

But I think these color-coded boys in love know it.

Well, at least Hill does.

Because his grandmother gave him the same necklace that his dad gave his mom when he knew she was the one.

And Hill has always known this pretty boy is the only one for him.

Sidenote: I actually gasped at how beautiful and young Cooheart looks here. That twenty-eight year old does not look a day over seventeen.

Kudos, Yellow Yal, for being the sun in Hill's blue sky, the star guiding him at all times, and the moon in his dark night. Way to be that man's everything, so now he can give you everything (like a bouncy castle!).

And even if Johan and North never get married, I'm sure they will be together forever too.

Since North probably already unknowingly signed no less than sixteen documents that Johan had his lawyers draw up which makes it legal for Johan to own North in at least twenty-three countries regardless of martial status and escape is punishable by death so . . . 'til death do you part, North. Congratulations, buddy!

Basically, every color-coded boy in love got his happy ending, and I was thrilled to witness it.

NOW BRING ME PART TWO!

[croissantlover24]

Writing idea:

Spaniard has a body in this idea.

Moon getting upset with Spaniard for not going along with a current plan Moon has, since Spaniard thinks the plan isn’t a good idea and needs to be thought over again.

Spaniard tries to explain, to get Moon to rethink things, while Moon is just getting more mad since the tool he made won’t listen to him, especially after getting a body.

While all of this is happening, Sun and Earth are trying to get Moon to calm down at least a little. Sun is trying to tell Moon that it’s ok, while Earth is trying to get Moon to see where Spaniard is coming from.

Then, as Spaniard tries to get Moon to understand, Moon yells at him.

Sun and Earth watch as Moon says something along the lines of, “You’re my creation! I’m your creator! You will obey me!”

Spaniard looks genuinely nervous and goes quiet. Sun and Earth go quiet too. All three of them look at Moon.

After a beat of silence, Earth asks Moon to please go calm down.

Moon looks at her for a second and huffs, then glares at Spaniard before just walking off to calm down.

Once Moon leaves, Earth goes to see if Spaniard is ok. Spaniard hugs her back when she hugs him. He stands there, not realizing that he’s shaking.

(I love this idea so much; I know I say that a lot but this might be my favorite)

Spaniard listened when Moon shared his plan. He analyzed each word he was told and created a mental simulation to imitate the context. He ran Moon’s idea through an algorithm. He tried everything to make it possible.

It just wouldn’t work, and he told the lunar animatronic such. He had been getting more comfortable around his creator ever since he got a body, but just in case, he knew Earth and Sun were nearby, cleaning the daycare. He offered Moon alternatives and other ideas.

Moon didn’t like that.

“What do you mean, it wouldn’t work?” Moon hissed, mildly vexed.

“It’s success is unlikely, so—“

“No,” Moon interrupted, “I looked through it. It’ll work.”

“I put it through a simulation and—“

“You know those simulations aren’t accurate!!”

Spaniard flinched at that. He didn’t understand why Moon was so mad at him suddenly. Sure, their conditions weren’t the best, but he’s seen his creator last longer under worse conditions.

But then again, maybe it’s that the advice is coming from Spaniard that made him so angry.

Earth looked over and called, “Moon, relax. Spaniard may have a good idea.”

Moon scoffed but didn’t reply to his sister. He gazed at the computer, his glare a thousand knives aimed at Spaniard’s soul.

“The algorithm said—“

“I DON’T CARE WHAT THE ALGORITHM SAID!!!” the lunar animatronic screamed.

Sun and Earth walked over now, begging Moon to calm down. The computer took several steps backwards, afraid of his creator.

The nighttime animatronic ignored his siblings and advanced upon his mistake. “You are my creation,” he growled lowly in that kill code voice the computer (and Sun) was so used to, “understand? I created you, you mistake. You. Will listen. To ME!!!”

Spaniard squirmed uncomfortably beneath Moon’s outrage, feeling like his skin was crawling with bugs. He shivered, his fear apparent on his face.

“Moon,” Earth called, disappointment seeping into her tone, “leave. Go calm down elsewhere.”

Moon rolled his eyes but did so after glaring at the computer one last time.

Spaniard visibly relaxed when the lunar animatronic was gone. His shivering subsided, his panicked “heart” finally ceasing its race.

Sun shifted in the background awkwardly as a layer of silence settled between the three.

Earth embraced Spaniard, the computer hesitantly returning it. “Are you alright?” she asked, genuine concern seeping into her voice.

“I’m fine,” the computer replied in the monotone tone he used to use before his sentience. Earth frowned but stayed quiet. She grabbed Sun’s arm. “Come, Sun, let’s give him some space.”

The computer watched them leave, hearing Sun mutter something about Moon sounding just like the Creator.

Spaniard sank into a chair with a shaky sigh. He never felt safe around Moon—that was true—but he thought they were making progress. He thought his creator may finally consider him family soon.

His dreams all shattered above him, weighing him down with the burden of knowing he was nothing but a disobedient tool to Moon. He knew that was true, because he was cycling through the cameras and saw his creator saying just that.

“Never should’ve given him a body,” Moon murmured bitterly. “He never listens…. Useless…” The lunar animatronic cursed beneath his breath.

Spaniard listened to the slander against himself for some time before sighing and closing the cameras.

His eyes began to leak.

What was this?

Water ran down his face. His throat felt tight.

Was he crying?

It certainly seemed so.

Spaniard sat with his knees up, silently bawling. Of course Moon hated him. Of course his creator would never like him. Of course, of course, of course…

He was pathetic to think otherwise.

[elusiveelysian]

i just wanna save the three game toys, is that too much to ask?!?! /lh

everything here is platonic, so don't get the wrong idea.

after the musical memory game, we grab bunzo so he can't pull back up. the bunny toy is confused but won't hurt us, mainly because the game's over but a part of him wants to see what we're doing. mommy tries to pull bunzo back up using the rope that holds him up, but we just sort of.... cut it. so now we have mommy, complaining about how this achieves absolutely nothing and teasing about how maybe you don't need part of the train code because you've already taken a "reward," we also got bunzo who has never been confused but now just.... follows us about and helps in some puzzles/games. then we have just.... us?? and we're so proud of ourselves, so whenever she says something snarky, we just go, "yea, well at least i got bunzo!" and bunzo's just yeah! they got me and you dont. so now we have us and bunzo, being pieces of shit and just being smartasses to mommy, while mommy could not be more annoyed even if she tried.

then with the wuggy buddies, we just slowly lure them out of their holes and play with them like their dogs while bunzo warns us of any unfriendly buddies coming this way. mommy just looks on in disappointed anger, but every time she's about to say something, the wuggies start like barking or some shit, and she's just so done. when we inevitably befriend all the wuggies and "win," (i like to think we get into a spat with mommy; she's trying to convince us that just because we "tamed" all the wuggies, doesn't mean we win and we're just doing the same thing we did with bunzo, "but i have the wuggies, and you don't, so i win.") we all just head back to the game station and we leave most of the wuggies there as to not cause problems for our next game, but we do take two wuggies with us as well as bunzo.

now, pj pug-a-pillar is part pug, so he's rather easy to convince. you and your crew of two wuggies and a special little bunzo don't even listen to mommy or the rules. you're just treating pj like a real dog and trying to get him to play. mommy's becoming cocky like, "ha! pj isn't some dumb mutt!! he isn't gonna fall for your tri--" cue pj falling for our tricks. mommy says whatever and starts the game anyways. after all, pj is still programmed to attack when the lights are on, so maybe they'll attack. the game begins, but literally no one is paying attention because they're too busy playing. when the lights turn on, pj doesn't attack cause he's too busy playing. mommy is growing increasingly annoyed and we tell her that we can get out of together, that we have the room to take her and everyone else in and we can have them watch over children once more. she considers it, but inevitably stomps away, saying that she will not fall for our tricks. we all head to the end of the game and everyone is confused about the exit being blocked off when pj suddenly starts moving towards the window. the wuggies grab onto to him and we carry bunzo up and into the observation area. after going into the room, we all determine that only us and bunzo would be able to fit, so the others agree to backtrack and go back into the game station while we and bunzo go explore the hole. the wuggies hug us tight and pj gives a nice, big kiss (lick) and we go our separate ways.

you know about the theory that huggy wuggy is still alive and crawled back into the vent/conveyor belt system? well that is #real and true here, so after seeing the fur on the wall, we're dead set on crawling through those vents and hunting him down to help, so we head into the vents for a toyhunt. i headcanon that bunzo's got some good hearing, so we're pretty much set as huggy whimpers in the vents. we finally find the guy, and to say he's not happy to see us is an understatement. while he won't outright attack us, he's growling and snapping his jaw in our direction, well at least to the best of his abilities. in the fall, dude sort of got a huge tear in the side of his face, so his jaw is kinda hanging. upon seeing bunzo calmly wait with us, he allows hinself to calm down, do you can stitch his face up. after he's all fixed, he finally closes his mouth and shields his teeth and allows himself to be calm for once in his life down here. we take him with us so we can reach the end of this game mommy made.

now for the last toy who needs saving.

after the chase sequence, when she's stuck in the machine, huggy pulls the lever out of pure instinct. after seeing what the machine is doing and seeing mommy's pure fear at the idea of death, (or, maybe it's because of that 'him' she mentioned. you may never know) we immediately rush to turn it off, but we can't figure out how to. so we watch in shock and sadness as mommy meets her fate. we stand their silently, trying to calm our breath as bunzo whimpers quietly and huggy stands as still as a tree. your breath hitches and you and the toys tense up and watch a large, long hand reach for mommy's corpse and drags her through the shutter before disappearing. you all stand still before you pull bunzo to your front and hug him tightly, before going forward.

as your walk the catwalks of the game station, walking towards the small room at the top, you wave down towards all the friends you made in the adventure. they wave back and tge wuggies jump around excitedly. the toy companions jump down and joins them while you make your way towards where you hope poppy is.

she's tied up in web when you get there, but you get her and the code out safely. you're a bit put off by her cold attitude, yet you do make your way down to the train yourself, having finally gotten all of the code. you watch as all of your new friends get on the train too. you start the train. and lay against the back wall, finally having a moment to breathe after all that has happened. while yes, you saved sentient toys and kept them from harming you, you still did and a lot of running and had to do a lot of difficult tasks. not to mention killing mommy.... and the hand. it all hurt your head, but at least it was finally over.

that's what you thought, at least. as the train begins heading for the unknown, poppy gets cut off as the new toys you helped bang angrily at the door of her train car, trying to get into to stop her. you, meanwhile, pull the emergency stop and fall into unconsciousness as you slam your head into the controls. when you open your eyes just a few moments before slipping into total unconscious, you see a sign reading playcare and the sound of pounding at the door behind you.

[bbybaku]

cranky no nut november boyfriend shigaraki

yes i know its july. 

1.8 k words 

slow burn but there is smut 

warnings: angry shig, humiliation, degrading, oral (fem recieving), use of vibrator, shoes on bed, angst, fluff, mentions of masturbtion

your boyfriend, tomura shigaraki, had made a bet with his friends, about who could last the longest during no nut november.

you thought a month wouldn’t be that bad, right? you guys could handle it.

the first few days were nothing. you two were busy and didnt think that much of it. 

but the first weekend shiggy had invited you over to watch a movie. which was usually code for “let’s fuck”

you went over to his apartment, about 20 minutes into the movie you slipped your hand under the blanket, feeling around for his cock.

“hey” he said softly but irritated as he picked up your hand and moved it.

“what? we always-“ you asked

“i’m taking this month seriously, i can eat you out or something but we cant, you cant” he said

 you were not expecting him to take it this seriously.

you knew your boyfriend he never took anything seriously? why did he have to take this stupid month seriously.

“well, do you want?” he asked as he ran his fingers over your clothed clit.

“no let’s just hang out tonight” you said.

“okay” he said then kissed you on the head and pulled you into his lap.

you could feel his erection. but you knew you had to ignore it. 

week 2 was easy because shigaraki was out of town for a work trip.

you didn’t know how he was doing it. no sex was one thing, but not even masturbating?

you had been touching yourself every day to the thought of him, the pictures you had of him and sometimes 

the movies you had made together.

the night he got back he came straight to your apartment.

he looked pale.

you went in for a hug, but he pushed you away.

“no” he snapped “ i just wanted to see you”

you gulped “oh okay”

you cooked dinner and he told you about the trip.

the space between your thighs ached the entire evening.

you asked him to stay the night but he said he no.

and he left. 

it was day 15. you needed him. your hand could only do so much. you couldnt do what he could do. he knew your body better than you did. 

you texted him to hang out. 

the two of you got coffee then made out in the car. 

his mouth tasted so good. your body presses against the console, arms around his neck. the kiss starting equal but he very quickly shoved his tongue in your mouth. he took your jaw in his hand and held your face while his tongue circled yours. you sucked on his bottom lip. his hand found your tit. your hand found his crotch. 

shigaraki instantly pulled away, he was pissed “how many fucking times do i have to tell you no?” 

you sighed “im sorry i just-” 

he pushed his hair out of his face and took your jaw in his hand again. “look at me. i want to be inside of you so bad. i think about you all the time. i love you so much but we just cant right now.”

 his tone made you want him even more. it was embarrassing how hot you got  when he was irritated. and he knew it. 

“i hate this stupid challenge” you said through his grip on your jaw. 

“do you want to be like that?”  he talked down to you with a smirk.

“we can always go back to my apartment, and work on your attitude” he said letting go of your face and grabbing the gear shift. 

you had soaked through your panties a while ago. you were excited but knew you wouldnt be filled up the way you wanted to be. 

the drive to shiggys apartment was agonizing. the sexual tension was higher now than it was on your first date. it felt like you were getting stopped at every red light, the car in front of you was always going slow. and both of you were sweating. 

he had one hand rubbing your thigh and the other on the steering wheel, except at stops when he would run it through his shaggy hair. when he finally got to his apartment complex the two of you practically sprinted inside. 

“elevator?” you asked pressing the up button repeatedly. 

he took his hands out of his pockets and said “stairs” 

the two of you raced up to the fourth floor, you beat him but just barely. once both of you were in the hallway he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder.

once in his apartment he didnt even turn the lights on, he took you to his bed and threw you on it. 

he stood over you and sighed. “its your lucky day” he then pushed you up to the headboard and pulled off your panties. so eager, you were both still wearing shoes and the window was open. 

you shivered at the cold air on your exposed heat. 

shigaraki just stared for a minute. he loved vulnerability. 

he loved having you at his mercy. 

he pushed your skirt up and grabbed onto your thighs. 

“i knew you would be soaked.” he shook his head “such a whore” he said.

and just like that he dove right in.  

he licked up your folds and you bucked your hips to meet him. 

his grip on your thighs tightened and he pushed you into the bed.

“dont move” he met your eyes when he said it.

he started sucking hickies on your inner thighs, his fingers teasing at your clit. 

you held his head in your hands, not directing him, but rubbing his scalp. 

he occasionally hummed into your thighs at the feeling. 

he pulled off of your inner thigh and brought his mouth and nose to your entrance. you whimpered, expecting him to relieve your ache. 

he blew cold air on your exposed heat. 

you cried out. 

and shigaraki crawled up to meet you at eye level. 

he straddled you and leaned down “beg.” he whispered 

“please” you whispered

“i dont get anything for this. why should i be nice if i dont get the reward of your tight little pussy? or getting to fuck your pretty face. make it worth my while. give me this one little thing.  i said to beg like the whore you are.” 

you gulped. “please tomura. i touch myself to the thought of you every day and nothing satisfies me like you do. i just want you. i want you to fill me up and please let me come. please sir.” 

“hmm okay, i guess but its embarrassing that you touch yourself so much, you really are a whore.” he said as he repositioned his mouth at your entrance. 

he once again pinned your hips to the bed and brough his mouth to your entrance.

his long slender fingers ran through your folds a few times before stopping at your clit and rubbing circles. 

you moaned in pleasure, finally. shigaraki was relieving your ache. 

he sucked on your entrance and drank your juice like it was water from the tap. you could feel his tongue at your entrance, he tease then run his tongue through your folds. 

your entire body was shaking and the knot in your stomach was about to release. 

“please i - can i please” you whined. 

shikaraki hummed yes into you, his grip on your thighs tightening 

the hum was what sent your over the edge, your walls tightening and releasing around shigarakis mouth. 

he pulled off for a moment and looked at you “that was fast. youre so easy, y/n, you know that?” 

and at that he went right back to what he was doing, only this time it was his finger. at your entrace and his tongue on your clit. 

his tongue going all around and eventually stopping and making out with your bud. 

you were crying at the pleasure. 

his long fingers going in and out, and in and out. at no particular speed or regularity and occasionally stoping to curl inside you. 

your hands went to shiggys hair, but you couldnt control yourself the way you had earlier. your hands were shaking as the held onto his head.

you came again, it was so fast you didn’t even have the time to ask.

you could feel him smiling on you.

shigaraki pinched your thigh, acknowledging your high, but showed no sign of stopping.

he maneuvered a little bit, grabbing something under the bed while still fingering you. 

if you thought you were a mess before, you were wrong. because you were even more of a mess when shigaraki started rubbing around your clit with a vibrator. 

your back arched and you grabbed onto the sheets, so as not to pull on shiggys hair, “pleASE. m-gonna c--um” you barely got out. 

your lower body convulsing. 

tears started streaming down your face, it hurt so good. “dont cum yet, baby. i want you to wait this time. like i have to wait.” 

“no-oh-oh-o” you sobbed 

shigaraki mustve been getting irritated because his grip on you tightened, and he pinched your inner thigh. 

“please” you whimpered, running your fingers through his hair as gently as you could. 

“no” he said sweetly. 

your vision was starting to blur and you were still crying, “isnt this what you wanted darling?” shigaraki asked. 

you only sobbed in response, you were loosing the ability to form coherent sentences. 

the knot in your stomach released without warning, and you came on shigaraki’s vibrator. 

with that he sighed and stood up, going to the bathroom to help you clean up. 

despite your scattered brain, you knew your boyfriend well enough to know that he was in agony. 

“does it hurt?” you asked him between deep breaths. 

refering to how bad he wanted you, and how hard he was in his pants. 

he waled back in with a towel and said “yes” looking down at the ground. 

“well what if we” you started. 

“no, im tired of having to explain this to you.”

“please, i just want you so bad” you begged as he climbed on top pf you.

“i said no! just fucking shut up” he snapped

“why?" you whinned

he found your wrists and pinned your hands beside your head on the bed. 

“everyone gets a different penalty. do you know what mine is if i fail? huh? do you want to know”

"um i-” 

you went to speak but no words came out. 

shigaraki leaned down “my penalty is to send the group chat a video of us having sex” 

“oh” you said feeling yourself blush

he gulped and looked away “which i really dont want to do because you are mine.”

he released your wrists and fell on top of you, “youre all mine” 

“please just wait 2 more weeks” he whispered into your neck. 

masterlist

[spiderking-of-queens]

Chapter Fourteen: Castle Byers

Summary: You try your best to get your friends to drop their Russian spy hunt before getting a concerning call from Mike about Will. (Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, 3k words)

A/N: Half of this is about Will bc SOMEBODY had to give that boy a hug 😭 

Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23​ @dessmxsworld​

Masterlist

July 1st, 1985

After your early shift at Melvald’s on Monday morning, you headed to the mall in the afternoon to work at the theater. You did your best to avoid Scoops and whatever fresh spy escapades Steve, Robin, and Dustin were participating in. 

You knew it wasn’t necessarily fair, but you couldn’t help being a little angry at Steve. He was the same as you: unable to resist getting involved in whatever mayhem your younger friends were a part of. But this time, it felt different. It felt more careless. Especially now that Robin was involved. You just needed time away from them to cool down.

So at the end of the evening when you began to make your way to the parking lot, you were relieved that you had made it through the day without running into the three of them. That is, until you saw them sneaking up to the roof of the mall in their raincoats. 

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” You muttered to yourself angrily. 

For a moment, you tried to convince yourself that you hadn’t seen it, but you couldn’t let it go. You at least wanted to make sure they weren’t about to be captured by Russian spies. So you followed behind them quietly and found them perched at the ledge of the roof with a pair of binoculars.

You put your hood up and walked out into the pouring rain over to them, then squatted beside Dustin.

“What the hell are you doing?” You whispered, and he nearly dropped his binoculars and jumped out of his skin.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N! You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?!”

“I asked you first.”

“Robin cracked the code,” Steve said, struggling to speak with the rain drops pelting his face. He was the only one of the four of you that didn’t have a jacket with a hood. Of course he was too cool to bring a rain jacket. He had to wear his stupid bomber at all times. 

“Fantastic,” You muttered sarcastically. Then something caught your eye as you studied the scene below you. “Oh my god, are those guns?”

“Yup,” Steve replied with a sigh.

“Great. Even better.”

One of the guards opened the loading dock door with a keycard, and another man with boxes went inside. 

“Hey, what’s in there?” Robin asked Dustin, who had returned to looking through the binoculars. 

“It’s just more boxes.”

“Let me check it out,” Steve said, reaching for them. Dustin tried to pull away from him.

“No, I’m still looking!” He protested. 

“Lemme see it!”

As they were fighting over them, Steve lost his grip and they smacked against the side of the wall with a loud metallic “clang!” This got the attention of the guards, and you all instinctively ducked down, your backs pressed against the side of the roof.

You sat there for a minute gasping for air in panic, and then looked over to see how the others were doing. Dustin was frozen in shock, and Steve and Robin had apparently reached for each other’s hands at some point. They sat together panting, fingers intertwined before Steve noticed and quickly released his grip on her. 

Watching this happen shocked you so deeply that it almost made you forget that you were hiding from people who would kill you if they found you. You weren’t sure what to make of it, but for some reason, it seemed to agitate you further. 

You looked back at Dustin and grabbed his arm.

“Come on, we need to go right now,” You whispered as calmly as possible, nodding towards the door of the roof. He nodded back and turned to Robin and Steve to make sure they heard, too, then followed you as you crawled away. 

After you slipped through the door and shut it quietly, the four of you quickly made your way through the back corridors of the mall towards Scoops Ahoy.

“Well, I think we found your Russians,” Robin panted as she tried to keep up. 

At this point, you were so angry that it took everything within you not to explode. You grabbed Dustin by his arm and pulled him along as he tried to protest.

“We are leaving. Now. I’m driving you home. Go get your things,” You muttered, pushing him through the back door of Scoops Ahoy. 

“Okay, mom…” He grumbled and disappeared through it, too scared of this new, more forceful side of you to object. 

“Robin, can you give Steve and I a minute?” You asked her, hands on your hips. She seemed slightly scared to see you like this, too, and quietly slipped through the door as well. 

“What?” Steve asked you impatiently, knowing full-well that he was in trouble and wanting to get the fight over with. He was used to you scolding him by now, unlike your other friends.  

You glared at him, but he didn’t falter. 

“Steve, I get that you hate your life now, and I’m really sorry about that. But this is without a doubt the dumbest shit I have ever watched you do. And you have done a lot of dumb shit. I’m not gonna just sit by and let you go along with this because you’re bored. Somebody’s gonna get seriously hurt. This isn’t monsters or superheroes anymore. This is real-life shit involving real people with very real guns, and they would probably love to kill you in many different very real ways. We need to tell the police or somebody who can actually handle this.”

He was clearly taken aback by this, and struggled to find words to defend himself as his mouth gaped open like a fish. 

“I… I’m just… Dustin is the one who…”

“Nah uh. I’m not buying that this time,” You interrupted him. “This isn’t about Dustin. He didn’t even have to fight you on this one. You were willing and ready to participate in this as soon as he told about it.”

“What… that’s not true! How would you even know that? You weren’t there.”

“Because I know you, Steve. And I know how miserable you’ve been. And I understand, I really do. But I’m begging you, please do not entertain this any further. Robin has no idea what she’s even getting herself into. If you really do care about her at all, then you’ll tell her to drop it, too.”

“What makes you think I care about Robin?” He scoffed.

You rolled your eyes at him, annoyed that that was the only thing he had heard.

“Steve… please. You fight like an old married couple, and I saw you guys on the roof. You care about her. Don’t try to deny it. Just… promise me? Promise me you’ll let this go?”

He finally seemed to understand how deeply you meant this as he studied your face, but he still shook his head sadly. 

“You know Dustin won’t. You said it yourself, they don’t listen to me. And if he won’t drop it, then I can’t. I’m not gonna let him do this on his own. You know I can’t. And I know you don’t want that, either.”

You chuckled angrily at him, rubbing your eyes with frustration. Then you threw your hands in the air in resignation. 

“Fine. Whatever. Put yourselves in danger, I don’t care,” You grumbled. “Just leave me out of it. I’m taking Dustin home and I’m gonna do my best to talk him out of it because I actually care about his safety. Thanks for your help.”

He called your name as you walked through the door, trying to get you to stay and continue your argument, but you ignored him and commanded Dustin to follow you to the parking lot.

On the drive to Dustin’s house, you did your best to make him see the gravity of the situation. He seemed to understand, but you knew that he would probably still go ahead with his investigation anyways. There really wasn’t anything more you could do. You thought about speaking to Joyce and Hopper at work in the morning, but weren’t sure if they would even believe you. Demogorgons and Mind Flayers were one thing, but now Russians? It did seem a bit far-fetched, even if it was true. 

As soon as you walked into your house, the phone rang. You didn’t know where your parents were and you were closest to it, so you answered, not expecting it to be for you.

“Hello?”

“Y/N? Thank god. We’ve been trying to get a hold of somebody forever. It’s Mike. Have you seen Will today?”

“What? No. He wasn’t with you?”

“He was, but he got mad at Lucas and I and left in the middle of this storm. We can’t find him. It’s been hours. We checked his house, but nobody’s home. I’m really freaked out.”

You thought about work that morning and how Joyce called in to take the day off. Something else was going on, something bigger than Russian spies. You took a deep breath and tried to stay calm for Mike. 

“Okay, where are you now?”

“We used the spare key to get into Will’s house.”

“Alright, stay there. Maybe someone will come home. I’m on my way, okay? Just hold tight.”

As soon as you hung up, you snuck back out quietly as if you had never been there and made your way to the Byers house. 

Once you got there, you ran through the rain to the front door and let yourself in, doing your best not to drip all over Joyce’s floor. Mike and Lucas stood up quickly in anticipation, then let their shoulders slump when they realized you weren’t Will.

“You haven’t heard from anyone else?” You asked them as you lowered your hood, gauging their reactions. 

“No. This is really bad, Y/N,” Lucas said with fear in his eyes. 

“We should have just played D&D with him…” Mike whispered and fell back down onto the couch.

“Okay, don’t panic. Is there anywhere you can think of that he could be that you didn’t check? Anywhere at all?”

They pondered this for a moment, then each shook their heads in defeat. You tried to think of places, too, and confirmed whether or not they had checked them. So far, he wasn’t at the library, the school, the arcade, The Henderson house, the junkyard, or the cinema.

You remembered a conversation that Joyce and Will had one night when you agreed to look after him. Something about him spending the day at “Castle Byers.” You didn’t know what it meant exactly and hadn’t heard about it in a while, but you hoped it would shake something loose in their brains. 

“What about Castle Byers? Do you guys know where that is?”

They both lit up at the mention of it and looked at each other.

“Oh my god, of course,” Lucas said.

“We’re so stupid,” Mike added, frustrated with himself. “He’s gotta be there. It’s in the woods behind the house, towards Lover’s Lake. It’s not that far, we can walk it. Let’s go.”

He and Lucas started to spring into action, but you put your hands up and stepped in front of them.

“No, no. You guys stay here. I’ll go find him.”

“What?! Are you crazy? I’m not staying behind and waiting. He needs us!” Mike argued and tried to push past you. 

“Listen!” You said, putting a firm hand on his shoulder and pushing him back again. “I understand that you’re worried about him and you never ever listen to anything anybody tells you to do, but I am begging you to just sit and wait here for ten minutes. It’s pouring rain out there and we don’t even know if he’s actually there or what’s going on. Just, please, for once, let me keep you guys safe. I’m begging you.”

“What do you mean we don’t know what’s going on? Did something happen?” Lucas asked you with an eyebrow raised. 

“No,” You half-lied. You had a gut feeling that Joyce and Jonathan not being home was a bad sign, but there wasn’t any concrete proof yet. “I’m just trying to be safe.”

You could tell Lucas could see past this, but Mike was too focused on getting to Will to care about anything else.

“This is bullshit, we’re going!” He yelled at you.

“STAY,” You commanded impatiently, then softened when you noticed the shocked look on their faces. “Just… please. Somebody should be here in case Jonathan or Joyce comes back, anyways. For all we know they could be out looking for him, too.”

“She’s right, Mike,” Lucas said quietly. “Maybe we should hang back, just in case.”

Mike clearly wasn’t happy about this, but he walked away from the two of you and slumped back onto the couch, crossing his arms angrily and avoiding looking at you. 

“Thank you,” You said to Lucas, grateful to him for being the voice of reason. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. I promise. Will is gonna be fine.”

He nodded at you in reluctant agreement and you put your hood up before going back out into the rain. 

You walked straight towards Lover’s Lake as Mike had instructed, calling Will’s name.  You never got a response, but you eventually saw the shape of a makeshift stick fort and ran towards it. 

Will was sitting on his knees in front of it, staring at its tattered remains. 

“Will!” You cried out in relief and joined him on the ground, putting your hands on his shoulders. He looked up at you but didn’t seem to fully register that it was you. “Thank god. What happened? Are you okay?” 

You couldn’t tell if he had been crying or if it was just the rain, but when his face scrunched up in pain, you knew that it was the former. 

You took your coat off and put it around his shoulders even though his clothes were already soaked through. 

“Will, please talk to me,” You begged him, then gave him a minute to collect his thoughts, returning a hand to his shoulder. 

He shook his head at you and let out a whimper. 

“Stupid,” He mumbled quietly. 

“What’s stupid?”

“I am. For thinking things could ever be normal again.”

Your heart broke at his words. You wished more than anything that life could return to normal for him again, too. For all of you. 

“You’re not stupid, Will.”

“Yes I am! Why can’t I just be like everyone else? Why can’t I want the things my friends want?”

“What do you mean?”

“All they care about are their girlfriends. I just want things to be the same as they were before. I wanted to play D&D in Mike’s basement all summer the way we used to. I don’t want things to change. I don’t want to be…” He trailed off, stopping himself from saying what he fully wanted to say. “It’s just so stupid,” He repeated instead and began to cry. 

You pulled him into a hug, unsure of what to say to make him feel better. You looked at his fort and noticed a baseball bat beside him. There were shredded pictures and drawings scattered around. You realized then that he had destroyed the fort himself, and hugged him tighter. 

The truth was that you felt a similar way your whole life. Like an outsider. Abnormal. Sitting alone in your room playing make believe in your mind instead of participating in the real world, avoiding things that came naturally to others your age. Avoiding change. 

The difference was that Will wouldn’t have to go through this alone. You wouldn’t let him, and you knew his friends wouldn’t either, no matter how much things would change. Their love for him was something that never could. 

“It’s not stupid, Will,” You croaked out, trying not to cry as you pulled away to look at him. “I know I don’t completely understand what you’re going through, but I do understand feeling like you’re different, and like the things you want are gone. It hurts like hell. But you’re going to get through it, and we’re all going to be there by your side no matter what happens. I know it doesn’t feel like that right now, but it’s true. Mike and Lucas were just going crazy looking for you. I made them wait at your house and Mike practically bit my head off. They would do anything for you. You’re not alone. Okay? I promise.”

He wiped his nose and looked at you. 

“They’re looking for me?” He asked in disbelief. It made you want to cry more. 

“Of course they are. Who do you think called me? They were worried sick. Come on, let’s go see them. Get you out of this rain.”

You tried to pull him up off of the ground and guide him back towards his house, but he froze, your jacket falling off of his shoulders. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked him, but he didn’t respond. He just reached up to touch the back of his neck. 

You could tell that whatever it was, it was something different. Something worse. 

“Will, what is it?” You asked again, although you were pretty sure you knew the answer already. 

“The Mind Flayer,” He said quietly, standing up beside you and staring into the darkness of the woods. 

Then you heard voices calling behind you. It was Mike and Lucas. You had taken too long finding Will, and they must have grown impatient. The two of you turned to see them running into the clearing. 

“Will! What happened? Are you okay?” Mike asked him frantically. 

Will looked back at him calmly, emotionlessly, and said, “He’s back.” 

That was all he needed to say for them to understand what he meant. 

Your heart dropped. For a moment, you hoped this really was just drama between friends. That Will’s biggest problems in life for the foreseeable future would just be growing up and finding his way in the world. You hated that your suspicions about something bigger going on were right.

You wanted to run from this the same way that you ran from Dustin and Steve’s hunt for Russian spies, but you knew that it wasn’t possible anymore. Not with this. This time, you didn’t have any other choice but to rejoin the fight. 

[heyiwrotesomethings]

A Compulsive Gambler?!

Yumeko Jabami x She/Her Reader

A/N: Could you imagine Yumeko dating someone and they have no idea she’s, ya know, a gambling freak? I bet she would have a hard time pulling back like, she’d still gamble with her SO but in a sneaky, more subdued way. Something like, ‘if you can guess what number I’m thinking of you can pick what we eat for dinner’, or something like that. Seems innocent enough but she just can’t help herself into turning some interactions into gambles. Anyway, hope y’all enjoy! Word Count: 5,170

For perhaps the first time since Mary met Yumeko, the girl was a nervous wreck. The usually carefree gambling addict was pacing around the near empty classroom while she twisted the ring on her thumb around and around again with no sign of stopping. Finally, Mary had had enough. If Suzui wasn’t going to be useful and ask what the hell was going on, she would do it herself.

“What the hell is your problem? Are you going through withdrawals or something?” Mary asked with an annoyed huff.

“Oh Mary-san!” Yumeko practically moaned, the back of her hand raised to her forehead with over dramatic flair, “I don’t know what to do!”

“About what?” Mary asked, accompanied with an annoyed eye roll.

“My girlfriend is coming to visit tomorrow and she’s going to be staying with me over the weekend!” Yumeko blushed cupping her hands over her face at the mere thought of it all. It just made Mary more annoyed.

“And? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“You have a girlfriend?” Ryota blinked, the poor boy seemed to always be falling behind.

“Yes, we’ve been together since our last year of middle school. We went to the same high school too until I transferred,” Yumeko gushed while she hugged herself, twisting and swaying slightly on her feet, “I love her so much! It’s been hard to be away from her all this time!”

Ryota scratched his cheek. “Then... why do you seem so uneasy?”

“Well that’s easy!” Yumeko cheered, a dazzling smile over her lips. A moment passed by and Yumeko appeared to pale considerably and a nervous sweat dotted her face, her body trembled and yet, the smile stayed in place. Mary and Ryota side eyed each other before staring back at Yumeko, waiting.

“She doesn’t know about my severe gambling addiction!” Yumeko finally disclosed.

“What?!” Mary and Ryota spoke in unison.

“Yes, it’s hard to believe isn’t it?” Yumeko sighed. “I’ve kept it hidden from her all this time because I feared what she would think of me if she found out. That, and I wouldn’t want her to get hurt from tagging along. I love that girl dearly and I can’t risk losing her.”

“How are you going to keep your secret, Yumeko?” Ryota’s worry for his friend was plain on his face.

“That’s where I’m hoping you two will come in!” Yumeko grasped a hand of Mary’s and Ryota’s in both of hers, a pleading pout on her face. “Help me keep her occupied and away from any mention of gambling!”

“Are you an idiot?” Mary scoffed, not waiting for an answer. “This school is all about gambling! Not to mention we’re in the midst of this insane election. You’d be better off just having her wait off of school grounds rather than parading her around for all your enemies to see.”

“Please Mary-san, it’s only for one day!” Yumeko cooed. She tried to wrap the blonde up in her arms, but Mary stood and held her away at arm’s length.

“I’m not gonna go out of my way for this fool’s errand. I’ve got to go meet with Ririka now. Figure it out yourself, but if you want my advice you should just come clean.” Mary said, giving Yumeko one last shove as she made her way out of the classroom.

“Oh yes, do you think Ririka-san would help? Maybe we could get Itsuki in on it as well!”

“You’re on your own!” Mary called from the hallway, making Yumeko whine.

“I’ll help you Yumeko.” Ryota predictably volunteered.

“Thank you, Ryota!” Yumeko bounced giddily, “Hopefully everything will run smoothly tomorrow if we play our cards right!”

***

“(Y/n)!” Yumeko jumped the girl as soon as she saw her approach the gates of the prestigious academy and showered her face with dozens of little kisses that made her girlfriend laugh and try to wiggle away from the continuous onslaught.

“Yumeko! I take it you missed me too then?” (Y/n) smiled, catching Yumeko’s face in her hands so she could land a few kisses of her own.

“Of course! You know it was one of the hardest decisions of my life to transfer here. I need to make up for lost time!” Yumeko grinned in return. She was about to steal another kiss when someone cleared their throat behind her.

“Oh, right!” Yumeko recalled, pulling (Y/n) to her side until they were near flush together. “Ryota, this is (L/n) (Y/n). (Y/n), this is Suzui Ryota, one of my friends!”

“Nice to meet you.” Ryota said. He was no stranger to feeling out of place, but after that intimate display he had never felt more awkward.

“Nice to meet you too, Suzui-san. I hope Yumeko hasn’t caused you too much trouble.” (Y/n) joked.

Thoughts of millions of yen in debt, gambling for nails, house pets, guns in a seedy basement, among other things, flashed almost violently in Ryota’s mind but he managed to keep a somewhat pleasant expression as he answered.

“Not at all! Yumeko’s a model student,” he lied.

“Oh god, I thought you’d be in the classroom by now. So much for a quiet morning.”

“Mary-san! Good morning!” Yumeko pivoted, still holding (Y/n) close, “Come meet my (Y/n)!”

“Hi. Saotome Mary. It’s a pleasure. Excuse us a second.” (Y/n) blinked and Mary was halfway through the courtyard before she noticed Yumeko being dragged along with her.

“Are you stupid?” Mary whispered harshly with no preamble once she found a secluded spot in the trees.

“Mary-san, what are we doing?” Yumeko asked, tilting her head like an inquisitive puppy would.

“How about what are you doing?” Mary hissed back. “The whole school must know you’re dating at this point!”

“Well that’s good isn’t it?”

“It’s the exact opposite of good! Do you have any idea how many people are gonna try to use her against you now? Use your head a little!”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to help me, Mary-san.” Yumeko giggled, “but you really do care about my happiness, don’t you?”

“Shut up!” Mary blushed, pushing Yumeko away before she could hug her. “I just don’t want some innocent girl to get caught up in this crazy school. Just be more discreet from now on. She already sticks out like a sore thumb without the Hyakkaou uniform.”

“I’ll do my best Mary-san!” Yumeko clapped. “It’ll be hard though since she’s just so kissable.”

“I didn’t ask.”

When they got back to the gate, they only saw Suzui looking around desperately while sweating bullets. When he finally saw Mary and Yumeko walking towards him, he ran up to them, breathing heavily.

“Ryota? Where did (Y/n) go?” Yumeko smiled.

“Iki... Ikishima’s girls took her! Tried to.. stop them but—“ Ryota panted and wheezed, stopping the retelling of his account once Yumeko rose her hand to his lips, directing him to silence.

“See? What did I tell you?” Mary groused. “And Ikishima of all people...” Mary shut her mouth tightly upon seeing the look on Yumeko’s face. The pure disgust and hatred that rolled off of her made Mary’s skin crawl.

“Ryota, Mary,” Yumeko eerily called, “it’s time for me to get my (Y/n) back from her visit to the trash heap. You’ll accompany me won’t you?”

It went without saying that Mary and Ryota followed after their friend. Whether out of fear or support, it could have gone either way. Even Mary thought it wise not to berate the usually carefree girl with ‘I told you so’s’ in this state.

They hurried to the bowels of the school and pushed through the beautification committee members. The members didn’t retaliate, one look at Yumeko’s face was enough to make them part their ranks like Moses and the sea. Yumeko approached the big metal door and knocked three times, loud metal echoes rung out over the hum of generators and fluorescent lights.

A wild laugh sounded upon the knocks. An eager cry of, ‘she’s here!’ could clearly be heard from inside as quick steps over linoleum could be heard tapping in rapid succession towards the door before it was wrenched open with a heinous squeak from its hinges that nearly matched pitch with Midari’s own delighted squeal upon being face to face with Yumeko.

“Yu-me-ko!” Midari sang, “so glad you could join us!”

Yumeko breezed past Midari without so much as a glance and went straight for (Y/n) who was tied to a chair in the middle of the room like some crime movie.

“Oh my (Y/n), are you alright?” Yumeko cooed, freeing (Y/n) from the gag and turning her face in her hands to look her over.

“I think so,” (Y/n) shivered, “just what kind of school do you go to where people are kidnapped at gunpoint?!”

The thought of Ikishima pressing that dirty gun against (Y/n)’s head made Yumeko want to curb stomp Ikishima’s head into a fine paste, but the deranged girl would have just loved that, wouldn’t she? Instead she worked on untying the ropes from (Y/n)’s middle, comforting her girlfriend along the way.

“It’s alright my love! The beautification committee is just really serious about following the dress code. They won’t bother you anymore.”

“Yumeko,” Midari moaned from behind her, “I brought her her so you would gah—!”

Mary slapped the girl hard over the back of her head and gave her a warning look. Midari shut up more out of the delight of being hit more than anything else.

“...’Gah’?” (Y/n) flicked her eyes over everyone in the room, trying to get some kind of explanation for what the hell was going on.

“‘Gah?’” Yumeko repeated right back with a smile. “Whatever does that mean, my dear?”

“I don’t know, the girl with the eye patch said it.” (Y/n) replied, finally loose from her bindings, she rubbed her hands over her arms where the scratchy rope had dug in.

“Oh sweetheart, you must be seeing things. I see no such girl here.” Yumeko said, causing a whimper to fall from Midari’s lips. “Let’s get to my class now, shall we?”

“Anywhere is better than here.” (Y/n) sighed, choosing not to question Yumeko about the girl who had taken her. She clearly didn’t like her and after being dragged here against her will, (Y/n) couldn’t say she enjoyed the crazed girl’s company either.

“That’s my girl,” Yumeko cooed, pulling (Y/n) tightly against her side. They walked past Midari as she blubbered and crawled over the floor towards Yumeko only to have the metal door slammed in her face.

“Come on, we’re already late!” Mary griped. “Some of us have scholarships to keep!”

“I just can’t wait to be sitting in a classroom with my (Y/n) again,” Yumeko sighed dreamily, “it will be just like old times!”

“Yeah.” (Y/n) smiled though she was still coming to terms with being held at gunpoint for wearing the wrong uniform. Yumeko hadn’t even seemed to be phased by it. Like it was something that was part of the school policy. We’re all rich people schools like this? Whatever, (Y/n) wasn’t going to let this one setback, no matter how momentarily terrifying, ruin her weekend with Yumeko.

Before they could make it to their classroom, the were jumped by another second year student with literal stars in her eyes as she grabbed Yumeko’s hands.

“Yumeko, I’m so glad I caught you!” She cheered.

“Oh hello Yumemi, what are you doing outside our classroom?” Yumeko asked.

“Waiting for you! It’s been so long since the Dreaming Creaming Sisters have performed and I need you to pretty please join me for a concert!” Yumemi sparkled.

“Dream—“ (Y/n) tried to muffle her inelegant snort with her hand but the action immediately drew in Yumemi’s attention, the idol’s face darkened slightly.

“Oh? What’s so funny stranger?” Yumemi asked with faux sweetness.

“I, um, sorry. It’s just uh, a unique group name you’ve got there.” (Y/n) answered sheepishly.

“Well, I’d like to see you come up with a better rhyme for dreaming!”

“Scheming, beaming, redeeming... meme-ing.” (Y/n) listed the first words that came to her head, making Yumemi’s smile tighten further with every suggestion.

“Who’s your friend, Yumeko?” The idol asked, fake interest rolling off her tongue.

“This is my girlfriend (Y/n)!” Yumeko said with pride. “Isn’t she just so cute and smart?”

‘Smart ass maybe.’ Yumemi thought to herself.

“Anyway, I’m sorry but I can’t perform with you right now. I’ve got class and I don’t want to leave (Y/n) alone.” Yumeko explained, hugging the girl for emphasis.

“I didn’t know you were part of an idol group now, Yumeko.” (Y/n) said as Yumeko guided her towards the doorway.

“It’s just a side hobby really.”

Before they could enter Yumemi pulled (Y/n) out of Yumeko’s hold, hugging her from behind, her starry eyes dancing with mischief.

“You’ve never seen Yumeko preform then, have you (Y/n)-san?” Yumemi asked, still hugging the other girl close as she weaved her trap.

“Yumeko has sang to me before, so I know she can sing very well.” (Y/n) admitted bashfully. “I’ve never seen her act as a full blown idol before though.”

“Isn’t that something you’d like to see? We could have it all set up in a matter of minutes, wouldn’t that be great?” Yumemi coaxed.

“I wouldn’t want Yumeko to do something she doesn’t want to do. Besides, her class is starting soon.” (Y/n) said.

“I didn’t hear a no.” Yumemi sing-songed while (Y/n)’s face buzzed with heat.

“If you’d like to see then I don’t really mind, (Y/n).” Yumeko grinned, pulling her away from Yumemi, “I like the idea of singing directly to you in a sea of people. They’ll all know exactly how much you mean to me.”

“Yumeko..” (Y/n) hid her face in the giggling gambling addict’s chest.

“Oh for the love of— are we going to class or not?” Mary yelled impatiently.

“I’m afraid I have a concert to prepare for Mary-san. Will you come watch with (Y/n)?” Yumeko asked.

“Fine whatever.” Mary bristled.

They all made to leave when Mary halted Ryota with a hand to his chest.

“Wh- what?” He asked, jumpily.

“You are going to stay here and take notes. They better be good ones too.” Mary threatened.

“But—“

“Notes, Suzui.” Mary commanded. The poor boy gave a resigned nod and with drooping shoulders he sulked into the classroom.

***

While Yumeko and Yumemi prepared backstage, Mary and (Y/n) found their seats and made light conversation as more bodies filed into the seats around them. Despite dating Yumeko, Mary found that (Y/n) seemed to have a good head on her shoulders.

“Saotome-san, what is that boy taking bets for?” (Y/n) asked.

“It’s just some weird niche idol thing Yumemite does. Don’t worry about it.” Mary dismissed, though inside she was worried this would become a bigger gamble that she couldn’t possibly cover up.

“This rich people school is so weird.” (Y/n) commented offhandedly.

“Tell me about it.” Mary agreed.

The house lights dimmed and the stage was set aglow. Upbeat music began to play and the crowd around them cheered as Yumeko and Yumemi entered the stage.

They sang their opening song and (Y/n) watched with delight, her heart beating faster every time Yumeko would meet her eyes throw a flirtatious wink or smile her way. (Y/n) would wave the red glow stick she was given in return.

“Now it’s time for the event you’ve all been waiting for!” Yumemi yelled over the crowd, causing them to cheer again. “The rematch of the century!”

“Rematch? What is she talking about Saotome-san?” (Y/n) asked.

“Ah, there just seeing who can do best in various idol based competitions.” Mary responded, truly hoping that that would be it, but Yumemite wasn’t done talking just yet.

“Before you all got here, one lucky seat was chosen for the spotlight! Let’s see who it is, shall we?”

Yumemi swept her hand across the packed auditorium and one light after the other blinked across the sea of bodies while the audience cheered. A bright light shone on (Y/n) and she blinked at the sudden brightness, surprised when the light didn’t immediately flicker back off.

“And there we have it! Our visiting guest from another school, how lucky you are!” Yumemi said with mock surprise as if she hadn’t had the thing rigged from the get go.

“You’ve won the opportunity to go on a date with one of us, the Dreaming Creaming Sisters! How will it be determined who you go out with? Well, it all depends on which one of us wins this gamb—“

“Game!” Yumeko hurriedly interjected, a faint gleam of sweat streaked down her cheek.

“Well, yes, I suppose ‘game’ is also accurate.” Yumemi cocked her head at the strange outburst. Yumemi didn’t really care what Yumeko called the gamble, she just had to win it. What better way to get back at the girl than to steal her girlfriend away for a night.

“The rules to this game are simple Yumeko-chan! There will be three rounds: perfect pitch, name the tune, and choreography memory match. Win two out of three, and you’ll get to go out with our lucky chair holder! Lose, and you’ll be paying for mine and (Y/n)’s night out. I’ll warn you, I’m not cheap!” Yumemi said with a showy laugh.

“But, I’m already dating Yumeko,” (Y/n) frowned, “I can’t go on a date with someone else!”

“Just hope Yumeko wins then.” Mary sighed. At least Yumemi’s way of gambling wasn’t too obvious. Her gambles were big and grand, but to an outsider they weren’t immediately discernible as anything but stage entertainment.

“Let’s make this quick, Yumemi-chan!” Yumeko smiled, hoping she could keep her desire to up the stakes in check.

Yumeko won perfect pitch, matching nearly every note with perfect accuracy. Yumemi won name the tune as many of the songs were conveniently of a western selection. Last was the choreography memory game and (Y/n) was nervous.

(Y/n) knew that Yumeko had a splendid memory, but the girl also detested demanding physical excursions such as this. She was probably already tired from dancing at the start of the show. To (Y/n), it was not looking to good for her girlfriend.

But to (Y/n)’s surprise, Yumeko followed the impromptu routine like a champ. Yumeko refused to let Yumemi outdo her, all for the sake of keeping (Y/n) close.

“She’s going to be so sore after this.” (Y/n) marveled. “You know I used to have to threaten her to make her go to gym class?”

“You could actually make her go to gym class?” Mary rose a brow, impressed. She hadn’t seen Yumeko attend gym class since the first week of her transferring. While Mary was still a house pet, she took great pleasure in watching Yumeko suffer through that class period.

Minutes went by and the two girls each adorned a a sleek sheen of sweat as they continued to dance, matching each other step for step. The fans were going wild at the display, waiting to see how would win the dance battle of a lifetime.

Then it happened in a flash. Yumemi, in her desire to get back at Yumeko for their last gamble against Natari Kawaru, tried to add a very complex step in her next turn and fell to the stage which led to her loss.

“Jabami Yumeko wins!” The MC announced.

Saori appeared from behind stage to help Yumemi back to her feet. Though pissed and embarrassed, Yumemi hid her feelings well and congratulated Yumeko on her win.

They closed off the concert with one final song and then the event was over.

“Have a nice dinner on me!” Yumemi sparkled, shaking (Y/n)’s hand after the show before walking back to her dressing room with Saori in tow. The poor manager was sure to get an earful from the idol once they were away from polite company.

Yumeko practically collapsed in (Y/n)’s arms.

“(Y/n), I’m so tired! Carry me!” Yumeko whined.

“After all that hard work you did? Happily.” (Y/n) hoisted Yumeko onto her back and the sweaty girl squeaked joyfully, wrapping her arms around (Y/n)’s neck.

The trio talked about the show as they walked (or in Yumeko’s case, carried) through the halls, slowly making their way back to the classroom for the next class period. Mary paused in her next comment as loud, purposeful steps were quickly catching up to them.

“Jabami Yumeko!” A voice filled with contempt called from behind them.

“Oh, Sayaka! How good to see you!” Yumeko smiled, sliding off of (Y/n)’s back to try to greet the secretary with a hug.

Sayaka dodged the attempt on her life, zapping her taser in warning as she glared at the demon before her. (Y/n) wondered if all the students were allowed to carry such dangerous items at school.

“You are in violation of school rules!” Sayaka sternly informed. “You did not fill out the proper paperwork to bring an outsider into Hyakkaou.”

“Really Yumeko,” Mary scoffed, “those are like, the easiest papers to fill out.”

“I’m sorry Sayaka, it must have slipped my mind.” Yumeko apologized.

“Your apologies mean nothing to me. Escort the girl out now.” Sayaka clipped.

“All I want is to spend time with my girlfriend. Surely you could make an exception just this once, Sayaka, friend?” Yumeko pleaded.

“Don’t refer to me as your friend,” Sayaka’s jaw clenched, “better yet, don’t refer to me ever.” Then Sayaka’s expression switched from hostile to something akin to a hopeful curiousness. “Did you say girlfriend? Like dating... monogamously perhaps? As in, you aren’t looking to be dating someone else right now? You want to spend more time with her than anyone else?”

“Yes!” Yumeko nodded, smiling obliviously.

Sayaka turned her attention to (Y/n), walking up to the other girl and grasping (Y/n)’s hands tightly in hers.

“Never break up with her,” Sayaka said, the closeness of her face scaring (Y/n) slightly, “please.”

“I um, wasn’t planning on it.” (Y/n) stuttered in reply.

“My, what do we have going on here?” A silky voice called from behind the group. Sayaka gasped and removed her hands from (Y/n) as if they had burned her.

“President! Vice president! What are you doing here?” The secretary asked.

“I’ve been hearing rumors of Yumeko stirring up my aquarium with a new fish.” Kirari’s lips curled in an interested smile as she eyed the unfamiliar girl. “This must be the one, hm?”

“This is (L/n) (Y/n), my girlfriend. She’s visiting me over the long weekend and I wanted to show her around the school to maximize our time together. Unfortunately I didn’t fill out the proper forms, you’ll allow it won’t you president? Please?” Yumeko explained with a cute pout that made Sayaka livid.

“Of course.” Kirari easily complied, tapping a blue nail against her smiling, equally blue lips. “She’ll just have to gamble with me first.”

Oh no. She said it.

“Gamble?” (Y/n) looked at the president questioningly while Yumeko and Mary hosted a silent eye battle between themselves to figure out how to deescalate the situation.

“Yes, dating Yumeko, I can imagine you must be amazing at it to catch her eye,” Kirari produced a pack of cards from her blazer, “any preferences?”

“I’m not much of a gambler, neither is Yumeko. I’m not quite sure I understand.” (Y/n) answered.

“Not much of a gambler, Yumeko?” Kirari’s lips rose into a highly amused smile.

“What she means to say is that I’ve dabbled in some friendly school gambles while I’ve been here. It’s kind of a tradition at this school, (Y/n). All in good fun.” Yumeko laughed.

“Yes, try telling that to the house pets.” Kirari mused.

“Could you just, shut up for like, five minutes?” Mary seethed, turning to the masked girl standing silently at Kirari’s left, “I thought I told you to keep your sister occupied today so this exact thing wouldn’t happen.”

Ririka shyly removed her mask, looking contrite. “I tried but she wanted to know what Igarashi-san was doing.”

“Could someone please explain to me what is going on here?” (Y/n) asked holding her hands out expectantly as she looked over each face in the little group they had formed in the middle of the hall.

“How about this,” Kirari circled the girl, “you beat me in a gamble and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“And if I lose?” (Y/n) questioned.

“No penalty. This is highly entertaining for me as it stands. I just want to know if I can see what Yumeko sees in you.”

“Then I guess I don’t see the harm in it.”

“Excellent. Let’s take this party to the student council room shall we?”

Yumeko nervously twirled her ring as she watched (Y/n) sit across from the president. Kirari had all sorts of gambling dirt of her, as much as she loved (Y/n), she hoped the girl would lose this one.

“Blackjack?” Kirari asked as she shuffled the deck.

“I don’t know how to play that actually.” (Y/n) said.

“That’s fine. Texas Hold ‘Em?”

“No, sorry.”

“How about gin rummy?”

“Haven’t heard of it.”

“Thirty-one?”

“Nope.”

“Ten card no peek baseball?”

“Is that a real thing?”

“What card game do you know?” Kirari tried instead.

“...Go Fish?” (Y/n) replied.

“A woman after my own heart.” Kirari said, causing Sayaka to pout severely.

Kirari dealt the cards, spreading the remaining deck face down between them and the game was set. The pairs flowed evenly for the first couple minutes until (Y/n) had to go fish and Kirari obtained a small lead on her. (Y/n) just as quickly turned the tides a few turns later with a good guessing streak that landed her five more pairs.

The casual luck and easy going attitude (Y/n) presented while gambling with the president made Yumeko even more attracted to her girlfriend by the second, but still she hoped Kirari would turn it back around somehow.

It appeared luck wasn’t on Yumeko’s side however, as (Y/n) won the game with three more pairs then Kirari. The president smiled, mildly impressed by the outsider’s victory.

“Well then, what questions do you have for me?” She asked, shifting in her seat to cross her legs the other way.

“So this is some crazy gambling school, right?” (Y/n) asked with no preamble, not pulling any punches.

“Crazy would be subjective, but gambling is as important in this school as breathing. I’ve made sure of that.” Kirari answered.

“And Yumeko gambles.” (Y/n) said, mostly looking for acknowledgement that clarified the validity of the statement.

“Yes, one of the best in the school.” Kirari praised.

“It’s not dangerous though, right? She hasn’t done anything too drastic?”

Yumeko bowed her head, twisting her ring with a bit more force. A blush coated her skin as her heartbeat pounded in her chest. This was like a gamble in itself and oh, how intense it felt!

“Mm, hard to say.” Kirari shrugged, “I feel as though our definitions of these terms may differ.”

(Y/n) turned to face Yumeko who looked every bit the part of a scolded puppy. She didn’t need to ask any more questions. Not for Kirari to answer anyway.

“Yumeko, just what have you been up to?” (Y/n) asked, covering Yumeko’s hands to cease their twisting.

“(Y/n), I’ve been hiding something from you.” She sniffled, “I’ve been hiding it from you for a long time!”

“What is it?” (Y/n) asked gently, patting the girl’s silky hair.

“I’m, I’m a compulsive gambler!”

“Really?” (Y/n) was stunned.

“Yes, it’s true. I’ve had so many gambles I know you wouldn’t approve of.” Yumeko blinked her tears away as she allowed the truth to be out in the open. “I’ve gambled myself into millions worth of debt just so I could gamble even more, I’ve bet my finger nails, I’ve played Russian Roulette, I’ve bet my free will against become a pop idol and never being able to date again... I’m sorry you had to find it all out like this.”

“Yumeko...” (Y/n) was speechless, she didn’t know what to make of all this. Her sweet, adorable girlfriend had an intense gambling addiction that made her put herself in harm’s way on the daily?

“Please don’t break up, please don’t break up, please don’t...” Sayaka mumbled quietly to herself, rolling something that looked suspiciously like prayer beads in her hands. All the poor secretary wanted was for the snake to have a keeper that would pull her attention away from her president, was that so much to ask for?

(Y/n) sighed through her nose and pinched Yumeko’s arm harshly.

“Ow!” Yumeko whined.

“That’s for keeping secrets.” (Y/n) huffed, pinching Yumeko’s other arm, “that’s for putting yourself in dangerous situations. And this,”

Yumeko closed her eyes, waiting for another stinging pinch. Instead, she received a sweet kiss on her cheek.

“This is an apology for making you feel like you had to hide from me. I love you.”

“I love you too!” Yumeko sniffled, knocking her head into (Y/n)’s chest as she hugged her tightly.

“This doesn’t mean you’re getting a free pass anymore though, no more life changing gambles!”

“...how about three a week.” Yumeko asked shyly.

“Once a month max. You’ll kill me, my heart won’t be able to take the stress.”

“This day has been exhausting.” Mary groaned. “I thought I wasn’t going to let myself be dragged into this idiotic mess.”

“You’re a true friend, Mary-san!” Yumeko clapped.

“Ugh,” Mary ignored her, “come on Ririka, we’re running late for our next election gamble.

Ririka hurried over to the blonde and they exited the room together. (Y/n) and Yumeko followed after giving a cheery goodbye to the amused president and her disgruntled secretary.

“Lessons are over for the day,” Yumeko grinned, hugging (Y/n)’a arm as they walked towards the front gates of the school. “I bet you’re hungry, we didn’t even have time for lunch.”

“Food sounds awesome right now. Any suggestions?”

“I know a few places that might be good. We can go over them while we get ready in my apartment.”

“Sounds great.”

“Don’t let money discourage your final decision. Remember that Yumemi has graciously agreed to pay for our date tonight!”

“Oh yes, how could I forget my almost date with a pop star. How are your legs feeling by the way?”

“They’re so sore (Y/n)! Every step hurts!” Yumeko whined.

“Alright,” (Y/n) bent forward, “up, up.”

“Yay!” Yumeko cheered hopping onto (Y/n)’s back.

Yumeko refused to get off of (Y/n)’s back until they got home... which made taking the bus a little awkward.

~~~

Bonus Scene

Ryota sat stalk still in his desk, watching the hours tick by in the darkened classroom only lit by the soft light from the street lamps outside. He looked down at his notebook, filled with notes, two identical hand written copies for Mary and Yumeko. He looked back at the door, waiting for it to slide open.

“Yumeko, Mary-san,” Ryota weakly called, “please come back soon, I’m so hungry.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Baby, It’s Cold...

Warnings: this fic includes dubious/nonconsent, fingering, lying, manipulation, and general Ransom naughtiness

This is explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: You go to meet your online admirer but not all is as it seems.

Note: Our Chris-mas fic is here! I tried to keep the holiday details as vague as possible and hope you all enjoy what I came up with. As a reminder, y’all chose Ransom Drysdale + Sugar Daddy + Silverfox (= yes please)

I hope y’all enjoy!

Let me know what you think! (Like, reblog, reply, leave some words, a gif, nonsensical emojis)

Your nerves wouldn't stop. It was the tap of your fingers, the urge to chew your thumb, and the way you shifted in your seat just when you got settled. The flight was long enough to calm down and definitely not long enough to prepare yourself. 

You scrolled through your phone, offline for the journey. You swiped through the photos saved in your gallery. Hugh had paid for the ticket. A gift for the holidays he said; his gift, he added, was you. It was cheesy but it made you smile. He always had a way of surprising you. One moment, he was stern and demanding, the next he was flirty and fun, and sometimes, he could be sappy. He was different than any man you’d met; well you hadn’t exactly met yet.

It had started on your Insta. You liked to post pictures of pretty things; flowers, birds, critters, and the odd monument. Sometimes, even, yourself. He messaged you about some photo of a vintage book. It was random and awkward. You weren’t quite sure how you managed to bring the quality to text but you did always find a way.

But it continued and you got to know him. He knew a lot about books; he said he worked in publishing. As a photography student, you weren’t as impressive. You assumed he was older; a few years, he said. Well, that wasn’t so bad. He also suggested you keep some prints; it could make for a good coffee table book. You liked hat he humoured you but you were like any other arts major; you were waiting for your green apron.

As they announced the landing over the speaker, you buckled in. You played with the locked buckle. You had lied to your mother. You told her you were staying on campus for the winter break. What would do if she knew if you were meeting a stranger? Huh, you were meeting a stranger and you had kept it all a secret. Your romcom had just become a horror in your mind.

Well, you had the app on the phone. The one that would send your location if you didn’t log in within the next eight hours. But it could be too late by then. Shit, this was stupid. So stupid. You could hide and tell him you missed your flight. Well, fuck, you’d texted him just before boarding.

As the plane descended you went through every worst case scenario; catfish, liar, murderer… Hugh was hot as fuck and you had to admit, a rich guy with eyes like his, was way out of your league. You bit your lip as you looked at the pic of him at the beach; was it the abs that made you so dumb or the smirk?

The large wheels rolled over the tarmac as the pilot steered past the other planes and into position. You waited as disembarkment began and the attendants reminded passengers to remain seated until told otherwise. You felt the wine in your stomach swish. Hugh had paid for first class; you had enjoyed the complimentary drinks a little too much. The first had been for courage, the second for foolishness.

Finally, it was time to get up. Time to face your naivety. Why did these things seem like a good idea until the last minute? Rather, why did you think they were? This was like that blind date in your freshman year that turned out to be a prank by your roommates. Sophomore year saw you relocated.

What if the same was going through Hugh’s head? What if he was disappointed? It was easy to seem cooler than you were behind a screen. It wasn’t exactly like you broadcasted the fact that you spent all your time in the library or the fact that your study group was the majority of your socialization. Well, maybe you’d both be let down and you could laugh about it together.

You grabbed your carry-on and followed the rest of the passengers down the ramp and into the tunnel. You felt like you were in a movie or a dream. It was surreal. Had you really flown all this way to meet this online pal? 

As you reached the escalators, you turned your phone off of airplane mode. There was a message waiting for you. ‘At the gate.’ It was all too real as you sent back an emoji and neared the belt to grab your bag. You extended the arm and rolled it behind you as you headed for the last barrier. You were waved through customs and met another set of escalators. You bounced your leg as you descended.

You got to the bottom and walked around as you searched those waiting around the gate. Blonde hair, you couldn’t miss it. Blue eyes, tall, broad shoulders… he was the type to stand out in the crowd. 

“Hey,” you felt a large hand on your back and another on the handle of your bag. “Right here.”

The deep voice was the same from your phone calls. You smiled and looked over as he took your bag entirely and wrapped his arm around you.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” You turned to him and his hand rested on your hip as he faced you.

The air went out of you and your lips parted. You blinked and sputtered. “H- Hi.” 

“You okay? How was the flight?” He asked.

You were in shock. Your entire body jittered and your breath was trapped in your chest. It was Hugh but he was about twenty years older than his photos. Most of his hair was silver, with only a few strands of blonde, and though he hadn’t aged poorly, the difference was stark. Handsome as he still was, he had lied.

“It was… fine.” You forced out. “I…” You shook your head and pouted as your thoughts raced, “Hugh, you’re… older than I expected.”

“Call me Ransom. Everybody does.” He leaned it, “Why don’t we talk about this in the car?”

You looked around. You couldn’t really just turn around and go home, could you? You lowered your chin and sucked in your lip as you thought. What else had he lied about?

“Sure,” you said thinly. “I…”

“Babe, it’s me,” he coaxed, “I’m exactly who I said I was. And you, you’re even more gorgeous in person.”

You glanced at him and nodded. You hooked your shoulder bag over your arm and he grabbed your hand as he pulled you with him. The wheels of your suitcase rolled loudly behind him as the buzz of the crowd drowned out your panicked mind. You let him guide you, in disbelief. You didn’t know what else to do.

You were outside as the haze cleared. You approached a car, sleek and sporty, though you were never good with types. Hugh, or Ransom, opened the trunk and dropped your bag inside. He went to the driver’s side and opened the door as you stared across at him. You mirrored him and lowered yourself into the passenger’s seat. The doors closed almost in unison and you stared through the windshield at the unfamiliar parking lot.

He cleared his throat and turned the engine. You snapped your belt into place as he shifted into gear. You flinched and crossed your arms. You peeked at him in the rearview and his hand crawled onto your thigh. His eyes met yours in the mirror and he smirked. You were paralysed as he steered with one hand and his fingers tapped against your jeans.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he said, “Or… happy holidays. Whatever’s politically correct.”

He laughed and you only managed to choke on your spit. You felt like you should be mad but did you have any right to be? He hadn’t exactly catfished you. Not completely. And he had paid for your ticket and from what you could tell, he was just as rich as he claimed. Yet, that wasn’t exactly why you’d come. Sure, it was all just in good fun, you didn’t expect a whirlwind romance, but it was still jarring.

“Why don’t you just relax?” he purred, “I know it wasn’t too long a flight but flying always takes it outta me. And you’ll need your energy. I have lots of surprises in store for you.”

You nodded and leaned against the door. You hugged yourself and lifted your leg over the other and Ransom’s hand slipped away. He seemed unbothered as he sat back in his seat and turned his attention to the road.

The radio flicked on and filled the tense silence. You clung to the unknown lyrics to keep from drowning in fear.

🎁

Despite your doubts, you couldn’t help but be astounded by Ransom’s house. Almost four years in a dormitory and the Holiday Inn was like a palace to you, but his place was even more than that. A modern façade with a blanket of store across the sprawling yards which seemed to have been perfectly laid to match the straight lines of the structure. 

You stayed in the car as Ransom climbed out and took your bag from the trunk. You jumped in your seat as he tapped on the window with his knuckle. You looked over at him and undid your belt. You got out, your bag dangling from your wrist, and he touched the small of your back again as he led you forward.

“We’ll have dinner and then you can open your gifts,” he said, “That’s when the fun will start.”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed as he unlocked the door with a code and ushered you in.

You watched him hang his jacket and reluctantly unzipped your own. You put your bag down but kept a hold of your phone.

“You’re nervous,” he intoned.

“Why did you send me those pics and not something more recent? You lied.” You said.

His mouth slanted and he raised his brows. “They were me. Not much of a lie.”

“Enough of one, don’t you think?”

He chuckled. “I think you at least owe me a little leeway. Considering.”

“Considering what? You offered to pay. Don’t hold that over me.”

“I’m not but… you’re young, you’re impulsive. I mean, you came all the way here and now what? You’re going to tuck tail and run home? Spend the last of that bursary money so you can hide?”

“Don’t patronize me,” you huffed as you stepped out of your boots.

“I’m not.” He said firmly. “I’m giving you advice and it’s hard to see when you’re young but we both know you’re smarter than your age. We both know what this is and me being older isn’t going to affect that.” His eyes roved over you, “Is it?”

You lowered your lashes and thought. You wetted your lips and looked down at your phone. You unlocked it and opened the app. You keyed in your password and turned off the alert. You’d come this far and you were fairly certain he wouldn’t murder you. Besides, your mother would kill you once she found out you’d come all this way.

“It’s just gonna take me a bit to get used to it,” you tucked your phone away, “But promise me, that’s it. The only lie.”

“Promise,” he said gently, “Now, dinner should be here soon so why don’t you get changed.”

“Changed?” You snorted, “What--”

“Up the stairs, the room at the end of the hall, there’s a red box on the bed. It should fit. If it doesn’t, I’m sure it’ll still look great on you.”

You smiled as your cheeks burned. He was older but he still had charm and had aged into his looks and not out of them. 

“Alright,” you said, “I… what’s for dinner?”

“Another surprise,” he replied as he neared and leaned in, “I’m more excited about dessert.” His breath tickled your cheek, his lips too, and you shivered. “Now go, we’ve both waited long enough for this.”

You drew away and turned to head up the stairs. He tapped your ass and you squeaked. You looked back over his shoulder and he winked. “Can’t help myself,” he raised his hands, “But I’ll try.”

You continued up the stairs and tried not to gape at what had to be expensive art. The furniture was no less extravagant and as you entered the room at the end of the hall, you closed the door and pulled out your phone. You typed in Ransom instead of Hugh Drysdale and pages of results popped up. Editor, Publisher, and Owner of Blood Like Wine Publishing. Jesus Christ, were you really that daft?

Well, he was famous enough to reassure you he wasn’t going to kill you. You tossed your phone on the bed beside the box and carefully untied the black ribbon around it. You shimmied the lid off and revealed the red velvet. You lifted it up, a short little piece trimmed with white fur. It was the most ridiculous thing you’d ever seen but scandalous nevertheless.

You stripped as your nerves only got worse. You slipped into the dress, it was tight around your chest and the short skirt had a slit along the thigh. You wanted to laugh at yourself. There was a pair of heels at the foot of the bed and you sat to slip on the stilettos. You stood and wobbled. You felt so dumb but a glance in the mirrored door of the closet gave you pause. Not bad.

You slowly made your way down the stairs. You held tight to the railing and as you came to the bottom, you looked around at the airy halls. You wandered into the next room and back to the kitchen. You stopped in the doorway as Ransom looked up from the counter. He carefully plated the food from the containers surrounded by paper bags. Expensive, boujie take out.

“The other way,” he smiled, “Past the stairs. I’ll be in shortly.”

“Oh, okay,” you spun and caught yourself on the wall. 

You found your way to the room across the hall. There was an artificial fireplace in the wall burning and a low table with two cushions planted deliberately on the floor. There was a bucket with ice and champagne in it and two glasses waiting. You crossed to it and touched the petals of the stemmed roses in the tall crystal vase.

You turned as you heard footsteps. Ransom entered with two plates. He passed you and set them down on the low table. He spun back to you and took in every inch of you. “Wow, you look… great.”

“Thank you,” you shied away and he caught your hands. He pulled you close as the candlelight gleamed along his silver hair.

“Come here,” his hand grazed your arm and he caught your chin, “Amazing.”

He brushed his lips against yours and pressed them more firmly. You let him as you heart hammered and he pulled away as he nibbled your bottom lip.

“Let’s eat,” he breathed. “Before it gets cold.”

You followed him to the table and sat on the cushion. It was difficult as your skirt rode up and you bent your legs beside you awkwardly as Ransom popped the cork. He poured the wine and you sipped at the foam. You could still feel the glow of the grigio you’d downed on the plane.

“So, did you bring your camera? Tomorrow we might go out and you can get some photos. It’s beautiful in the winter. Cold but makes warming up all the better.”

“Yeah…” You took a bite of the salad. “So, why didn’t you tell me who you were? If your age doesn’t matter, then--”

“You didn’t ask me for money. Not even when I mentioned it. Most women, I tell them who I am, they google me, and they do a poor job of tiptoeing around my checkbook.” He shrugged. “And I like you. I wanted to get to know you without everything else.”

“Get to know me?” You scoffed. “That’s what you call it?”

“My intentions were innocent. At first. I thought your pictures might make a good book and then I found one of you. Business isn’t everything.”

“Oh,” you fluttered your lashes, “It’s not?”

His hand snaked over to your thigh and he squeezed. He played with the fur along your skirt.

“I have enough money.” He said, “What I want isn’t so simple.”

🎁

You finished dinner and washed it down with the champagne as Ransom cleared the plates. As came back, you sat on your knees and watched him cross the room. There was a table stacked with presents in the corner. You only just noticed it as he looked it over and picked out one wrapped in gold paper.

He neared and held it out to you. You took it and ran your finger over the edge. “Your gift is in my bag,” you tried to stand and he waved you off.

“Later,” he said, “Open it.”

You slid your finger under a fold and tore. You slowly unwrapped the box; black and shiny. You crumpled the paper and dropped it on the table. You wiggled the lid off a revealed a pair of black furry cuffs. You giggled.

“Thanks,” you looked up at him.

“Stand up,” he said.

“W-Why?” You tilted your head.

“You gotta try them on,” he grinned, “Come on. Just a little bit of fun.”

“I don’t know, I never--”

“I know you didn’t come here just for steak so come on, get up.” He demanded, “And turn around.”

You bit down as you stared up at him. You wanted to laugh but the lines in his forehead warned you he was serious. He bent and took the cuffs from you and set the box aside. You stood, numb and shaky. You didn’t believe it. He wasn’t going to--

He spun you around and swept your arms behind you. You tried to pull away as he caught your left wrist in a cuff and quickly hooked the other. They closed tight around your wrists and he tugged on the link as if to test them.

You stared at the artificial flames licking at the glass. He cupped your ass and dragged his hands around to grip your hips.

“They look nice,” he purred, “Oh, baby.”

He bent and nuzzled your neck as he brought his arms around you and kneaded your tits. He pushed them up as he nibbled at your skin.

“These… are perfect,” he kissed you and teased your flesh with his teeth. “Fuck.”

He pulled down the top of your dress and bared your chest. You wriggled and he hugged your waist he kept you close.

“What are you doing, baby? Where are you going to go?” He tweaked your nipple, “Dressed like a little slut.”

“Hey,” you gasped and he retracted his hand to smack your ass.

He hushed you as his fingers crept down your thigh and he rolled up your skirt an inch at a time. “What are these?” He snapped your panties, “You don’t need those.” He pulled them below your ass and they fell to your ankles. “Let me show you what an old man does better than any kid.”

He reached around you and tickled your pelvis. He raised his head and inhaled the scent of your scalp as his hot breath glossed over your head.

“Don’t be shy now… or would you feel better with a camera?” He taunted. “Hmmm?”

“Hu--Ransom,” you uttered.

“Come on,” he forced his hand between your legs and flicked between your folds. “What did you think this was? How long did you think I’d wait?”

“No, but--” You gasped as he toyed with your clit, “Ransom.”

“Say it again,” he swirled his fingers. 

You gulped and moaned as he rubbed harder. Your legs quaked around his hand as he slid his fingers further back. You felt your arousal slicken as he spread it over your cunt and poked around your entrance. He slid a finger inside of you as he wiggled his crotch against your hands.

“Is this what you came for? Or did you want all of me?” He pushed another finger in. “You want me inside you, baby? Stretching you?”

You groaned as he curled his fingers and pressed the hell of his hand to your clit. He rocked his hand and cried out. Your legs cramped as your feet curled in the high stilettos.

“It doesn’t really matter what you came for,” he pushed on your shoulder until you bent forward. He caught the middle of the cuffs and held you like that. “I’m gonna get what I want.”

You closed your eyes and whined as he pulled his fingers out of you. You quivered and he spanked you before he withdrew his hand entirely. You felt him fumbling behind you as you shook your head. As you had been since you met him, you were off-balance. You couldn’t decide if what he wanted was what you wanted too.

You felt a prod along your ass. He brushed his tip down your cheek and poked between your legs. He wetted himself on your folds and pushed along your entrance. Slowly, he slid into you, grunting as he sank past his tip. Deeper and deeper until you threw your head up and moaned. He filled you completely; painfully and delightfully.

“Yeah, you want me.” He hissed as he thrust and jerked your body. “You want to be mine, don’t you?”

You hummed as he moved against you, your shoulders straining as he tugged on the cuffs.

“Say it. Say you want to be mine.”

“Ah,” you moaned, “I want-- to-- I-- I’m yours.”

“You’re mine, baby,” he snarled, “All mine. Aren’t you?”

“Y-y-yes,” your eyes rolled back as he sped up.

He rammed into you so hard your legs buckled. He growled and followed you down. He bent you over the table as swept the bucket and vase out of the way. He got to his knees as he pinned you over the top and crushed your hips against the edge. Your cheek was hot against the cool table as he jolted you.

“Mine,” he grunted, “Baby, all mine…”

He rutted into you as his voice mingled with yours. You whimpered as your legs tingled and your core bloomed. You let out a feral whine as you came, convulsing beneath him as he gripped the table above your shoulder. 

“You want me.” He rasped, “You want me to cum in you.”

“I-I-I…” You twisted your hands as you struggled to think; struggled to do more than murmur wildly.

“Fuck.” He swore and you felt him burst. 

He slowed as he slapped the table and when he stilled, he held himself over you and his breath sent a shudder through you. He sat back on his knees and slid out of you. His cum spilled down your thigh and you slumped down against him. He pinched the velvet bunched around our waist.

“You got more gifts to open, baby,” he slapped your ass as he stood, “You think you can keep up with an old man like me?”

[arcadejohn127-9]

may i request a fluffy hc? this is a platonic relationships with the brothers during mc's wedding and then the brother's realize then they've known mc for such a long time and that theyre growing up as a human and like may be a small addition of angst. Maybe even some interactions with mc's spouse and the bros?

This, this right here - oh yeah

This just brings me back because one of my plot devices for a fanfic I wrote years ago was the MC leaving their husband at the alter because they couldn't say "I do" and ran off to catch up with the Demon they wanted to be with

Of course I keep all my things as gender neutral as I can but you will be in the 'bride' position but considering that this spouse is also gender ambiguous - the title doesn't really mean much. Also personally I wouldn't care if I walked the aisle or it was future partner. As long as someone does it then there's no issue.

Additional: I'm just a pasty white man whose only been to one wedding; my parents - so my only experience is a Christian/Catholic white people wedding - I just wanted to add this as I'm aware in other cultures and countries weddings are very different.

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

It was your wedding day. A day you've been planning for years now with your spouse. They made you the happiest person in the world and you couldn't of asked for a better person to live your years with. Of course, You had to invite the most influencal people in your life to be your best man- well men.

That's right, standing by a priest was 7 of the most powerful demons in the Devildom. All watching you make your way towards your spouse. You were grinning, tears in your eyes. It was safe to say your spouse wasn't any better, jogging on the spot to finally seeing you. They couldn't believe how stunning you looked, mouth covered by their hand as they sobbed.

Mammon was bawling his eyes out by the time you took your spouse hand. He tuned out the priest as he clung to his older brother. Lucifer just stood there stiff, lips twitching as he looked to the side, hiding his forming tears. Levithan smacked mammon for being embarassing but he wasn't any better; you were getting married!!!

Satan was death glaring your spouse; hoping it'll sent a mental image that he will come for them if they hurt you even once. Asmodeus was holding Satan's hand, wiping his eyes before the tears could come. Not wanting to ruin his makeup before the pictures were taken.

The twins stood with their brothers, watching you speak your love and devotion to your spouse. Belphegor sniffed, leaning against his brother. Beelzebub patted his little brothers head, face cold as massive tears ran down his face.

They've watched you grow to become the person you are today through the exchange program and now you were being whisked away. Planning to stay in the human realm with your partner and live a happy married life. The brothers and Everyone else was absolutely shattered by this.

Diavolo, Barbatos Simeon, Luke and Solomon were all sitting on your side. Luke was much like mammon; bawling his eyes out hugging Simeon. Simeon was soothing the young one. Barbatos was holding his young masters hand, giving it reasurring pat's as he silently soothed the large demon. Diavolo sniffling and grinning as he watched you. Solomon was the calmest one out of Everyone but that didn't mean he wasn't going to miss you. No, he'll your adventures together and sad you're giving up being his apprentice for a normal life.

"it's okay to cry Lucifer." Mammon murmured, seeing his brother struggle.

But Lucifer refused. He refused to cry especially Infront of you. But what he didn't realize was the single tear of sadness and joy falling down his face.

They were all sad to no longer have you so prominent in their life but beyond joyed you've come so far. You found someone you love and they love you back. Your time at the academy has ended and your trips to the devildom will be limited. The brothers just have to rely on phone calls and being summoned to see you.

They grieved whilst they celebrated such a wonderful day.

Lucifer:

Stares down your spouse whenever he can

Big brother mode ™

Low-key maybe even high-key dad energy from Lucifer

He was in charge of making sure everything went well and was on time

Only accepting the best for his young human and willing to pay for the entire wedding

Even Diavolo agreed to pay for everything

He thinks your spouse is a wonderful partner but will forever be bitter how they stole you from them

"Lucifer, it's been a honour to know you and I want to thank you for coming to the wedding."

"yes, don't disappoint them or I will crawl out of hell just to rip your wind pipe - your atonement for breathing and speaking in their air."

"y-yes sir! I promise I will make (Y/N) the happiest person in the world until we both die!"

"or you mysteriously drop."

Mammon:

Has threatened the spouse because he knows your worth

Bummed out all of them got to be best man

He's your number one! Your first! Why are the others your best man??!?

he and asmo were in charge of the bachelor party for both of you and your spouse

Safe to say he got WASTED

"Oi human, I'm watching ya - one sad tear from them and you'll see how demonic I can be."

"i understand, I promise that'll never happen."

"Knew you'd be a good match! Now if anyone says something is missing, ignore that - do your partner's best man a favour."

Levithan:

Didn't want to go - he embarassed himself at the bachelor party

But didn't want to miss his best friend's wedding

He didn't want to ruin your big day because he knew he'd get jealous but to not see you or be there for you is just cruel

Also got wasted and cried to you about how evil your spouse is for taking you away from him

Almost fought your spouse when drunk with Mammon tag teaming with him

"I hope you're forgiven me now, I promise to give you summon whenever they miss you."

"or you could just let me keep my best friend.....make them happy please..."

"i will, I'd rather drop than ever hurt them."

Satan:

he was STRESSED

He was doing management with Lucifer and almost wrecked the place due to his brothers attitude

All he could do was read as many books as he could of marriage and just hope it worked

But he felt reassured knowing who you were marrying, it was their time to shine as a perfect partner and they did just that

Satan was one to stop his older brothers from destroying your spouse

"Hello, you did well with your vowels."

"oh thank you, Satan - heh never going to get use to that."

"Let's hope you never have to say my name whilst begging for mercy, I'll be keeping tabs."

Asmodeus:

He was the one who helped you pick out all the outfits and the dress code for your guests

Was very proud that his party was such a hit for everyone

Has flirted with your spouse and gets happy whenever they don't get swayed by his charms

Ready for all the marriage gossip!

Has teased about you two starting a family

"asmodeus, it's a shame to say I'm now married, your charm has failed."

"You are but one loss in my amazing track record, let's hope you keep up this energy or else~"

"I'm extremely happy with (Y/N), there's no need."

Beezlebub:

Him and the second cake hit it off IMMEDIATELY

he was all over it and it was a sight to behold

But before the wedding he was spending time with your spouse

He was making sure that they were the perfect fit, he trusted your judgment but he was determined to protect you

Happy to see how kind and honest your spouse was

"I have to ask, can you eat ANYTHING? I've heard so much from (Y/N)-"

"I can eat humans."

"I see....noted."

Belphegor:

Refused to sleep until the wedding was over

This man isn't effected by coffee but he STILL chugged it down in hopes he could make it through the whole thing

Did end up falling asleep due to the priest took too long talking

Lukcily beel got him to wake up when you were sharing vowes

Has told your spouse that he once considered genocide of humans

It was an interesting experience

"I'll kill you if you hurt them, you know I will - give them what they're worth and i don't care if that's the entire world - give them the damn world."

"I'll give them the world and the entire galaxy."

"good, I won't let you trample on them and give them less than that."

[blessednereid]

LFLLLL Prologue: Mutual Pining

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

WC: 3.5k

Taglist: @rogershoe

~

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        Lydia's House

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"Lydiaaaaaa!" You had barged into Lydia's house unannounced that afternoon. You had work that afternoon, but you called in sick, not physically, but emotionally. And only Lydia could help you. 

"LYDIA LORRAINE MARTIN!"

"Y/n, what's wrong?" Lydia's mom, Natalie, had come out of her office because of your shouts.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Martin, I didn't realize you were home. Your car wasn't in the driveway," you apologized.

"It's fine, dear. Lydia's upstairs taking a nap. You know how much of a heavy sleeper she is."

"Thank you, Mrs. Martin."

"Please, I've told you many times. Call me Natalie."

You nodded before heading upstairs, where Lydia's room was. 

You opened her door, and as you thought, she was lying on the bed, snoring and drooling. A sight you had gotten very used to since you first met her in third grade. 

"Lydia Lorraine Martin. We have a code-red!"

Immediately, Lydia jolted up from her bed and began flailing her arms in the air. She lost balance before falling off the side. 

"Oh, MY- Ugh." You went to help her sit back upright on the bed, sat next to her, and laid your head in her lap. 

"Y/n, what's wrong? Why did you wake me up?"

"We have a code red!!"

'Code reds' were what you and Lydia had when you caught real feelings for a guy. 

When you were younger and in middle school, Lydia had gotten a crush on the cutest guy in your math class. 

On Valentines Day, she wrote him a card and put it in his locker. The card said, "I think you're cute♡︎ What do you think about me?" Later that same day, she found out that almost all of the kids in your two's class had read the card. And on top of that, the guy was a huge jerk about it. 

Since then, you and Lydia vowed to never catch feelings for anyone until you were at least twenty-five. 

"Who is it, babe? What happened?" Lydia asked with a concerned tone. 

"It's Isaac."

"Your partner for the World History project?" 

"Yeah, him," you sighed. "We started getting closer, and he started talking to me, and we bonded over our moms' death, and there were carnival rides and vampires and freezy pops!"

"Woah, Woah, Woah! Slow down!"

"So basically, I did what you told me and took him to the county carnival, right? Then, he told me about his mom dying, and we talked about that, and then we went on rides and fought about their pace, and he was fine after like a two-hundred-foot drop. So then, we went on a rollercoaster, and after that, I was cold because I was wearing a light jacket."

"Okay, keep going…"

"So then he warmed me up by giving me a hug and then led me in the building, and we just hung out there until like five? Then when we were doing the slideshow, he started asking me about my room and shit, and when we were done, we watched that show I told you about, with the high school vampires."

"Oh, the babysitter one?"

"Yeah, that. So, he was actually interested. And then we just kept watching it together throughout the week since we finished the project. And then when we were presenting today, you know I have that stage fright. He just held my hand and calmed me down, and he listened to me after we were done, and he actually cared about it instead of dismissing it.

"Not that you dismiss it, Lydia." She nodded. 

"Anyways, after that, GB had to talk to us, and she ratted me out about writing his name down, and then he got slightly mad at me but not really, and then I explained. And he just told me he would see me tomorrow for our movie night…" you trailed off, debating whether you should tell her the last part.

"So that's when you realized?"

"After that, I turned away, and then he kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear, 'see you tomorrow or something like that!"

Lydia chuckled. "So you have a code red?"

"Lydia, I have a hang-out with him tomorrow. I'm not gonna be able to fucking think straight!" 

"Babe, just go and see how it goes. Maybe it's a 24-hours thing, you know? Just adrenaline. It affected you like this because you don't go out."

"Lyds, it's not like that. It's different."

"Y/n, that's what I tell myself before every hookup," she deadpanned.

"Okay, yeah. You're right. It's just a 24-hour thing."

"It's just adrenaline, babes. Nothing more, nothing less."

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  Movie Night

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'Nothing more, nothing less…"

Those were the words that kept repeating in your head as you twisted Isaac's hair around your fingers around Isaac's hair as his head rested in your lap.

"Y/n, are you okay?"

You blinked rapidly.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine!" 

"It's just, you're not watching the show?" 

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about something."

"Whatever you say, princess…" 

Princess. The pet name made your heart flutter, and you thought you would explode. 

"Give me a minute, please!" was all you said before picking up your phone and dashing out the room.

You headed to the bathroom and dialed Lydia's number right after texting her "Code Red Emergency."

"It's not a 24-hours thing, is it?" she said when she picked up.

"No…"

"Okay, here's what we're gonna do…"

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

 Previous Day

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

╭╼|══════════|╾╮

       Isaac

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

He watched you as you turned around. His nerves crawled through his spine, and he curled and unfurled his fingers before finding the confidence–, no, before finding the ability to move.

When his lips touched the side of your face, his heart was set aflame. 

'How did I just do that?' he thought. But entirely different words came out of his mouth. 

"See you," he said, and he internally pumped the air when he saw your lips curl upwards into a smile.

When he reached class, his actions had finally sunk into his mind. 

He went to his seat where his friend, Dillon Karis, sat beside him. Dillon was the only friend of Isaac, and they had known each other since middle school. 

"Dude!"

Dillon turned his head to his friend, whose urgent tone caught his attention.

"You know that girl I was telling you about?" Isaac said enthusiastically.

Dillon scoffed. "You mean the one who's been taking up all your Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday nights?

"Yeah, I remember her."

Isaac rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Dude, I think I may actually like her…"

"Holy—" Isaac cut him off.

"Shut up!"

Dillon took two breaths to calm down before speaking.

"Explain. Now!"

Isaac threw his head back.

"I don't know. It's just the way she makes me feel." He smiled. "It's like… the way my mom used to tell me about how she felt about my dad? It's weird."

"Bro, you barely know her. Are you sure?" 

"No, I'm not sure, but I think."

"Well, let me know. This is interesting. Shoulda brought some popcorn today, as I had planned," Dillon burst out laughing, and Isaac followed.

"Dude, I have to go to her house tomorrow."

"Why? I thought you already turned in the project." 

"We have our movie night," Isaac said before realizing what that might sound like to his friend. 

"Oh shit! So y'all already been going on dates?"

"No! No…" Isaac pointed his finger at his friend, signaling him to stop.

"Dude, so what are you gonna do?" 

"I don't know…"

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Movie Night

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Isaac was now highly flustered as he laid his head in your lap. You didn't bring up the kiss, so he assumed he either made you uncomfortable or you didn't like him enough to care. 

He looked at your face to see if there were any signals or indications, but he saw that you were completely zoned out. 

"Y/n, are you okay?"

You blinked before saying, "Oh yeah, I'm fine." 

Isaac raised his eyebrows before turning his attention back to the television. 

When you dashed out the room with little explanation, Isaac took his emotional matters into his own hands. He had decided to get rid of his feelings, sure that they were unrequited.

He headed out of your room and knocked on Stiles' door. 

"Come in!" he heard faintly, and he opened the door.

"Isaac, what's up?" Stiles had barely looked up from his work.

"I know we don't know each other that well, but I need some advice, and I figured that you probably know a lot about girls…"

"Not really, but I'm flattered you would think that. Please come in!"

Isaac stepped into the room and sat on Stiles' bed.

"Is this fine?" to which Stiles nodded.

"So, Isaac. Tell me what's going on," Stiles said before clasping his hands together. 

Isaac took multiple deep breaths. He was about to ask your brother how to get rid of his feelings for you. Who does that?

"I have a crush… on this girl. And I know that she doesn't like—" 

"You know, or you think?" 

"I think, but she's given no sign of liking me…"

"Okay, continue."

"She doesn't like me. And I was wondering if you knew if there was anything I could do to… get rid of the feelings I have…"

"Oh boy. Isaac, I wish I knew. I'm in that same position. However! I wouldn't tell you if I did know. Because you never know, right? Unless they've told you that they don't like you, you don't know for sure. And even then, it could happen in the future."

That was not the advice Isaac was hoping for, preferring to put himself out of his misery before he could get in it. 

"Alright, thanks, Stiles."

"No problem, bud!" 

Isaac walked back to your room, where you were laid down on your back. 

"Hey, where did you go?" 

"Nowhere, I just needed to… uh.. get some air." 

You squint your eyes, and even Isaac wasn't convinced by his lie, but he didn't say anything else before he laid beside you. 

"Lydia is having a party next Saturday. You should come."

"Oh, I don't think—"

"Please, Isaac? It'll be good for you to get out of your house like Mrs. GB said."

He couldn't resist the tug on his heart when you flashed your pouting eyes, and he had to give in.

"Fine, I'll see what I can do. That's not a promise." 

"Yay!" You exclaimed before pressing a kiss to his forehead. The action made Isaac's heart race, and all he wanted to do at that moment was kiss you. 

In fact, it was all he thought of for the next few minutes. 

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Isaac's Daydream

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"Love?" 

"Yes, babe?" you responded to him. 

"This is the spot. Stop going ahead of me." 

You mouthed an "Oh" before laying down on the blanket he set by the flowerbed. 

"So, whose house are we breaking into right now, Mr. Lahey?" you teased. You and Isaac were sitting in the backyard of a foreign house you had never seen, but you followed Isaac anyways.

"Yours."

You scoffed a 'what' as you had never seen the house in your life.

"Mines. Ours." He smirked.

Your face of pleasant surprise made his racing heart slow, as he thought you wouldn't like it. 

"This is our house?" 

"Well, it was my grandparent's house. They left it to me when they died. They said I can only get it when I turn 18, and now since we're together, It's our house."

You leaped onto his lap and kissed him feverishly. 

"This is the best surprise ever!"

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Reality

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"Isaac!" You yelled, and Isaac didn't know what you had said before. 

"Sorry! I just zoned out."

"It's not a problem."

╭╼|══════════|╾╮

You

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

"So, do you want to watch a scary movie?" 

You actually weren't planning on doing any of what Lydia had suggested you do, which was to just come outright and tell him you like him. 

Instead, you chose to suffer in silence, thinking there was no way possible that Isaac liked you back. And even if he had, you two would be better off as friends… Right?

At least that is what you chose to tell yourself.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Isaac Leaves

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

When the movie was over, Isaac went home, and you prepared for bed. 

That night you dreamt of things you wanted in your life that you couldn't have. 

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Your Dream

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"Hey, Isaac?"

You two were curled up together on a couch watching a movie, much like your reality. However, a few things were different.

"What are we having for dinner?"

"Babe, we're in a hotel, and the only restaurants have a pre-set menu. If you want food, you either get what they have, or we Postmates." 

"But neither sounds good. I want Pasta!" 

He sighed. "Then lets Postmates pasta, babe."

"But I want you to make it," you pouted. 

"Okay, how about this." You turned to face him to hear his proposition. 

"I get you dessert with the food they have here, and I make you pasta tomorrow?" 

You smiled and wrapped an arm around his neck.

You hummed before saying, "That sounds perfect," and he kissed you with a burning passion.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

       Morning

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"Y/N! WAKE UP!" Stiles woke you up from your dream. 

"WHERE'S THE FIRE?" You flailed around before falling off the bed. 

Stiles chuckled loudly. 

"MIECZYSŁAW STILINSKI!

"IT'S A FUCKING SUNDAY!" 

You groaned loudly before grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him, effectively knocking him down but not ceasing his laughter.

"Relax, Relax! Dad's taking us out for breakfast."

You rolled your eyes heavily. "Ugh, I hate you. GO! Let me change!"

"Wait! Wait! I have a question…"

"What?" 

"What's going on between you and Lahey?"

You looked down and away from him. "Nothing," you murmured. 

When you looked back at him, his eyes were narrowed, and his forehead was crinkled. 

"I don't believe you one bit."

Your face heated. 

"There's nothing going on, Stiles."

He scoffed. "We may be fraternal, but we're still twins, Y/n. Whatever, I don't like him anyway."

"Why not, Sti?"

He moved his face closer to yours, and you craned your head back for air. 

"Because I'm your brother, I'm never gonna like any guy you date. None of them are worthy of my sister."

"Well, you don't have to hate him because nothing is going on."

"Hmmm... Sure," he stated simply before walking out. 

You got ready, wearing an off-shoulder baby blue top that was slightly… starchy in texture, as well as a pink plaid miniskirt and black slip-on sneakers. 

When you got downstairs, your dad and Stiles sighed a heavy "finally," and you mocked offense. 

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Waffle House

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

You got in the car and began driving. You looked out the window enjoying all the sights while Stiles tried to coax your dad into talking about cases. 

Your dad turned and pulled into the parking lot of the Waffle House.

You sat at the counter and talked until someone came to get your drinks order. 

"So, Stiles, when are you going to bring a date home?" your dad asked with a squint. 

"Not anytime soon, He's still stuck on Lydia."

Stiles blushed. "Well, I mean, It's working. She knows who I am. "

"No, she doesn't. But… I do know this girl—" Stiles cut you off. 

"If it's not Lydia, then no, thank you. I'm stuck on her like white on rice."

Your dad interjected your argument. "Stiles, you sound like a stalker. Normally, we arrest people like you."

"Okay, Let's change the subject. Y/n, wanna tell dad about Isaac or should I?" 

You rolled your eyes. "Why should I? There's nothing going on?"

"Wait, who's Isaac?" your dad said while whirling his hand beside his head. 

"He was my partner for a project I had for World History."

Stiles laughed. "We presented on Friday. What have you guys been doing in your room?"

Your dad's eyes widened. "Why is he in your room?" 

"We just watch movies, Dad! We do nothing else!" 

"I highly doubt that. In fact, why don't I ask Isaac right now?" 

You blanched. "What do you mean?"

"He's coming up behind us," he said, looking past your head. 

You began choking when you saw him in your peripheral version. 

"Can I get you something t- Stiles!" Isaac popped up from behind you and began to ask for your drink orders. 

"Hey, Isaac," you said as you turned around. 

"Hey, Y/n!" His intonation was normal, his facial expression was off. 

╭╼|══════════|╾╮

Isaac

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

"What do you want to drink?" he asked, though his focus was on your dad's squinted gaze pointed directly at him. 

"Can I get a coffee?" Noah spoke up first. Isaac jotted down his order.

Stiles followed. 

"I'll get an Arnold Palmer!" he said while raising his hand. 

"Is that on the menu?" Isaac asked confusedly.

"No, but it's half of a lemonade, half of an iced tea in one glass."

"Okay… Arnold Palmer." 

"Y/n," the lovestruck boy said with a smile. "What about you?" 

The corners of your mouth turned up. "It's not on the menu, but is there an option for an iced coffee?" 

"Uh, I'm sure there is." He knew there wasn't, but he also knew you didn't like hot coffee much. 

"Are you sure? I don't want to--"

"It's fine, Y/n," he reassured.  

He walked away and headed to the kitchen to tell the cooks the drink order. 

"I need an iced coffee, a regular coffee, and A half-and-half lemonade-iced tea. Please," he added. 

Isaac glanced outside the kitchen window and gazed at you softly. He admired the way your eyes glimmered in the sun and how your hair bounced with every gesture you made. From this, he began to appreciate how amazing your hair looked and how the light refracted off of it. 

He smiled a lopsided grin as he watched the way your lips move. He imagined how they would feel on his. Soft. Smooth. He had the notion that you were probably experienced in that field, more so than he was. 

No. He couldn't imagine that. When he thought about the things he just thought, it sounded creepy and perverted. Besides, there was no way that you liked him back, so even thinking about it would just lead to further heartbreak. 

He grabbed your table's drinks and walked back, trying to ignore your smile because he couldn't stop the race that his heart ran whenever he saw it.

"Alright, here are your drinks."

"Isaac, can I talk to you outside?" asked Stiles.

"I'm actually working, so I can't do that. But, I can take your orders."

He jotted down each of your orders and went back to the kitchens.

╭╼|══════════|╾╮

            You

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

"Stiles, I swear to God, I'm gonna hurt you."

"Not my fault you're over here pining after Lahey but won't do anything about it."

"Up your ass and off your high horse, Stiles!" You did your best to be quiet with your statement, but your dad still heard. 

"Hey, hey!"

"Sorry, Dad," you and Stiles said simultaneously. 

You watched the cooks prepare the food in front of you, but you hoped to see Isaac somehow, even though he was in the back.

You thought about his messy hair and how it felt in-between your fingers... How his eyes dilated with each smile, and the tiny specks of green in those ocean blue eyes were always able to calm you down.

You noticed how his lips were never chapped and how his cheeks looked like apples when he smiled, and the one dimple that was prominent in those moments as well. 

You wondered if this was how Lydia felt for the boy that caused their entire concept of code reds or if you began to feel something much more for the boy with the shy demeanor and quiet voice. 

When Isaac came back, you thought about how you could try to confess your feelings. But, you knew that if Isaac was barely willing to talk to you for a long time, it would be a snowball's chance in hell that he liked you the same way. 

"Alright, here's your waffles and your hash-browns, Y/n. Your sandwich, Sheriff, and your All-Star breakfast, Stiles."

"Thank you, Isaac," you said with a smile.

He turned to leave before you called out. 

"Um, Isaac!" He spun around on his heel at your calling with a questioning look on his face. 

He walked back towards you, prepared to write something else down on his order pad. 

"Movie night, tomorrow?"

He smiled. "Yeah, sure." 

"Dorota, you cannot tell me you do not like him."

"Mieczysław, I do not." 

Your dad cut in. "Sweetheart, and if you do?"

"I don't. Can we just leave it at that?" 

~

[crispychrissy]

Connected - Part 4

Summary: Dr. Austin's theory is put to the test, and she shows Tony, Bucky, and Steve the woman behind the mystery. Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2976 Warnings: Angst, medical stuff, stretching the medical science behind the super soldier serum, discussion of Bucky's previous trauma & a mention of the horrible things the Nazi's did A/N: I apologize for the late posting, I fell asleep so hard last night I didn't have a chance to queue this, and then I was out all day (good 14 hours out and about) so I am just now able to post the new chapter since I'm home now. As I mentioned in a prior post, I no longer have a forever taglist, but I will still tag series specific people if they request. You can also follow this story & others on my Ao3 as well. The series was beta’d by the lovely @idjitmonkey and I hope you enjoy! Please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged in the series. :)

Series Masterlist – Marvel Masterlist

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Bucky made a quick call to Shuri who, after a thorough interrogation as to why he was asking, assured him his arm would not be affected by the magnets of an MRI machine. So now, Bucky was laying down on his back inside the machine and staring at the small glass covered camera embedded in the inside curve of the plastic above him.

“Stop staring at the camera, Barnes, you’re giving off some crazy resting murder face right now,” Tony’s staticky voice came through the pair of disposable earbuds he was wearing to protect his hearing from the noise of the scan. “Might sell these scans to Ripley’s Believe It or Not. You actually do have something going on in that head of yours.”

“As much as I know you want to answer, Sergeant Barnes, please do not speak or move,” Dr. Austin’s voice came through after what sounded like a small scuffle for the microphone.

Bucky blinked several times in an unnatural yet controlled fashion, and when he heard Steve’s laughter coming through the earbuds, he had to fight the urge to smile, knowing Steve got the message he blinked out in Morse code.

F-U-C-K Y-O-U T-O-N-Y

The scan was over almost a half an hour later, and Bucky couldn’t hide his exhale of relief once the table began to slide out of the massive scanner. Confined spaces still made his skin crawl and flash back to the cryo tube he was kept in, but the MRI was surprisingly open in design and not like the ones he usually remembered seeing in hospitals. When he brought it up to Dr. Austin on their way back to her office, she smiled at him and explained most of the soldiers they treat have PTSD and claustrophobia, so an open MRI design was necessary for the comfort of the patients she treats.

It made sense, and when they entered her office and Bucky’s stomach growled for the fourth time in the last fifteen minutes, she tossed him the orange he’d been eyeing earlier before taking a seat at her desk and flipping open her laptop.

“Normally we have to wait for the images to be reviewed by a radiologist, but I’m well versed in how to read brain scans,” Dr. Austin explained, clicking a few times before leaning forward to study the screen. “Oh, wow.”

“What?” Bucky asked, using his teeth to bite a chunk of the orange’s peel off since his right hand didn't have nails long enough, and his left didn’t have nails at all. Once he could see the flesh of the orange underneath, he slid his flesh finger under the remaining peel and began to remove it in large pieces, trying to avoid getting sticky juice on his metal hand.

Dr. Austin spun her laptop around to show Bucky the image on her screen. It was a scan of his head, he could tell that, but the mess of swirling bright colors on the inside where his brain was made his eyes hurt. There were bright greens and blues swirled with more vibrant reds and pinks dancing around inside the image. “This is your brain.”

“Looks more like those posters… the ‘this is your brain on drugs’ pictures if they were made in the sixties, Doc,” Tony said. “I’m guessing it’s not supposed to look like that?”

“No. There’s so much brain activity that it’s likely what’s been burning through your energy and why you’ve been hungry all the time,” Dr. Austin explained. “Any type of brain activity, including emotions and problem solving, requires energy, whether it’s planning a complex strategy of attack for a mission or a simple math problem or crying at a sad part in a movie. Overworking the mind usually leads to tiredness, which leads to sleep, naturally refreshing those energy reserves. Most humans don’t expend enough energy, even when the brain is very active, to require major replenishment. Take Mr. Stark for example.”

Tony looked up and raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes, you’re a very intelligent man, and I’m guessing that when you’re elbow deep in your inventions or developing something, you don’t sleep and will go days without rest… so you find you get somewhat hungry at random times, right?” Dr. Austin asked.

“Well, yeah, I usually keep snacks around the lab that I nibble on so I don’t have to leave to make an actual meal. It ruins the momentum,” Tony said, confusion in his voice. “Pep’s found me passed out over the kitchen counter halfway through making a sandwich.

“Your body shut down and went to sleep before you were even able to replenish that energy via food since sleep is more efficient. So, that is a normal human mind.” Tony opened his mouth to protest, when Dr. Austin rolled her eyes and switched analogies. “Fine, that’s a standard engine, if you will, that can easily be refueled by a small energy source for a limited amount of time before it needs to be shut down and rebooted,” Dr. Austin said, slowly twirling her right pointer finger in a circle.

“Alright, I’m following you so far.” Tony’s head was slightly moving along with the circular rotation of her finger.

“Now, in the case of our super soldiers here, imagine that engine, but amplified almost five hundred percent,” Dr. Austin began to rotate her finger faster and faster until it was a blur of movement. “The need for sleep is suppressed by the serum, since alertness is crucial in combat, so that reboot requirement is easier to put off. In order to keep this kind of engine going at the same speed and level of activity for prolonged periods, it would burn through a small snack, or a small source of energy, too quickly and would signal the driver of the car, if you will, that it needed more.”

“So you’re saying that something is making Bucky’s brain so active, and he’s burning through so much energy, that it’s manifesting as hunger to make sure he keeps up with what’s being expended?” Steve asked, his mouth slightly open in shock. “I mean, I always remember being hungry after mission strategy and planning meetings, but I just assumed it was because I was bored or had skipped a meal.”

Dr. Austin shook her head. “Nope. You were using your brain in overdrive, doing quick calculations and mission scenarios in your head to find the best possible plan of action, much faster than any normal human brain would be able to calculate. It makes you an excellent strategist, but that kind of brain power burns a lot of energy.”

Bucky snorted in disbelief and leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “It makes sense. I was a good sniper when I was first in the Army during the war, but after Zola… after he injected me with that bastardized version of the serum… I could calculate trajectory angles and wind velocities and distances in my head in seconds, didn’t have to write them out to do the calculations. Didn’t even need a spotter anymore.”

Dr. Austin nodded. “Exactly. The serum allowed you extra mental acuity at the expense of more energy consumption.”

“But that doesn’t explain why Bucky’s brain is lit up like a psychedelic Christmas tree,” Tony said, gesturing to the laptop image. “Barnes obviously isn’t doing any kind of advanced calculus in his head right now.” Tony looked at Bucky. “You’re not right?” Bucky shook his head and Tony continued, “so why is his brain so active?”

“And that leads me to my theory about Y/N,” Dr. Austin said, standing up from her chair. “Follow me, gentlemen. And Sergeant Barnes,” he looked over and raised a brow as he trailed after her into the hallway, “please let me know if you feel any increased feelings of hunger or exhaustion. The effects might come on quickly, so please let me know if, or when, you feel anything.”

Bucky nodded, and looked over to where Steve was walking to his right. Thanks to their childhood friendship, Steve could always see anxiety and nervousness in Bucky even when he tried to hide it, like when he saw Bucky off the morning he shipped off to Europe. Bucky kept his face stoic, but when Steve hugged him goodbye, Bucky was practically trembling under the Army-hardened mask he had worn then.

Steve reached over and clasped a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze of reassurance.

The doctor led them down several hallways, until they reached another wing of the military hospital which held secure patient rooms that could be locked down if necessary, whether due to outbursts of violence due to psychological issues from recovering soldiers or to hold prisoners who had been injured and needed medical intervention. Dr. Austin stopped in front of a room at the end of the hallway and gestured to the one-way mirror in front of her.

“Gentlemen, meet Y/N Y/L/N.”

The three men stepped closer and looked into the room, all eyes frozen on the figure sitting upright in the hospital bed. Y/N had shoved herself in the farthest possible corner of the bed, her knees tucked under her chin and arms wrapped around her legs. The photo in her file, and even the video of her they’d seen looked nothing like the woman before them. She looked almost emaciated, her skin a sickly pale that was almost translucent, and her stringy grease matted hair twitched slightly as her body trembled.

“Jesus,” Steve breathed. “She… she looks like those prisoners… the ones—”

Bucky swallowed and nodded. “From Natzweiler, yeah, I remember.” Bucky took a deep breath, fighting against the telltale tingle in his mind of a long since forgotten memory beginning to rise up like a wave. “Doc… is she eating?”

“She was when she first got here, but only if the food was left for her after she passed out from exhaustion,” Dr. Austin explained. “Now, ever since things have escalated, she rips out her IV’s, pulls out NG tubes, and refuses any food we bring her. I’m not going to sedate her just because it’ll make it easier to feed her, we haven’t reached that level of intervention yet, but we’re getting close. She told one of our staff yesterday, in Russian, that she was not going to eat any of our poisoned food, that she wasn’t some kind of lab experiment and that we were animals for not just shooting her in the head to get it over with.”

All of the air in Bucky’s lungs came out in one hard breath like he’d been punched in the chest, and he had to brace himself against the windowsill to keep his knees from buckling. “Fuck.”

“Bucky?” Steve gasped at Bucky’s sudden weakness, grabbing onto his friend’s arm and placing a gentle hand on his back. ”What? Are you feeling the stuff Dr. Austin mentioned?”

Bucky grit his teeth and closed his eyes at the onslaught of memory fragments bombarding him. “No, I’m… I don’t know, maybe? I just… she’s…” Bucky’s thoughts were so jumbled he could barely form a coherent sentence, even in his head. He made a choked off noise that sounded more like a sob before he lifted his head to look at Y/N. “She’s reliving my captivity with Hydra. This… this was after I was transferred from the facility the Russians held me in after they found me to the one where Zola did his experiments. They were, umm, they were testing the limits of the serum, trying to figure out what I could survive.”

Steve’s face dropped and he took a sharp breath in. Bucky’s captivity and torture was not something he talked about often outside his therapy sessions. Steve only knew a handful of stories, ones that had come directly from Bucky’s mouth, and even then they were very hard stories for him to tell—lots of starting and stopping, frequent breaks, and plenty of tears. But here, with two extra people with him, and one being a stranger?

“Buck, you don’t have to talk about it,” Steve whispered.

“No, I need… she said exactly what I said to the guards who brought me food one day.” Bucky swallowed hard, flexing his fingers against the painted metal of the windowsill, the cold against his flesh hand grounding him. “They were testing different poisons and how the serum would fight it off… arsenic, ricin, even different kinds of snake and spider venom. I had seizures, strokes, and my heart stopped so many times I lost count.”

“Fucking hell,” Tony murmured, leaning against the wall behind them, his face a few shades paler than it was ten minutes ago. “Y/N is reliving your memories, reliving your life.”

“We need to find a way to pull her out of this,” Bucky said, straightening up with determination even though his bones felt like liquid and his mind was full of numbing static. If Y/N was reliving his life, even if it didn’t seem like the moments were in order, he knew it was only a matter of time until she would experience how the Winter Soldier was born, how he was forged, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Dr. Austin nodded and looked back at her patient through the glass. “If my theory is correct, which I believe it is based on your shared memories and brain scans, Y/N’s mind has somehow melded with yours. And your memories, powered by your mind’s energy, have somehow taken over hers, suppressing her personality completely. I don’t know if it was some kind of dormant mutant ability that was activated by the trauma of her captivity and torture, or something else… but there is obviously some kind of link between the two of you that we don’t have the technology to test for and verify. You’re essentially feeding her your memories, which is why your brain is lit up like that and why you’re expending so much energy.”

“It’s like she’s stuck inside one of Stark’s virtual reality headsets and can’t take it off, experiencing everything I went through while my brain keeps playing her different…” Bucky trailed off and his eyes widened before his head snapped to look at Y/N through the glass.

In a flash of movement, Bucky grabbed Dr. Austin’s ID badge from where it was clipped onto her white coat and darted for the door to Y/N’s room, scanning the badge so the door opened with a green light and soft click. Bucky, ignoring the shouts of his name and hands trying to grab at him to pull him back, opened the door and shut it firmly behind him, engaging the door’s auto-lock safety feature that he knows secure wings of hospitals have. The group outside would need to find another ID badge to get in, which would buy him some time.

Y/N’s wide and terrified eyes settled on him, and she tilted her head in an almost confused dog-like fashion, her eyes softening with an air of familiarity. Bucky could feel the hunger gnawing at his stomach turn into sharp cramps that almost made him double over, and there was a soft circle of darkness starting to creep in around his vision.

Bucky took three large steps forward, and even though she flinched away at his sudden movement, Y/N didn’t scramble away to try and avoid his hands as he lifted them. Her weary bloodshot eyes were full of unshed tears, and the closer Bucky’s hands got to her face, the more she began to tremble.

“You’re safe,” he whispered to her in Russian, before repeating the same sentiment in English.

The moment his fingers, both flesh and metal, touched the skin on either side of her face, it felt like he was on the wrong side of an attack from Thor’s hammer. Whatever weakness and hunger he’d been feeling was burned out of his body at the sheer shock cascading through his entire being. It didn’t hurt, but it was bordering on wildly uncomfortable, and Bucky was afraid he’d never be able to let go, his hands stuck to Y/N like a magnet.

There was something different passing between them, more than what touch alone could provide. Trying to understand everything that was happening was overwhelming, but when Bucky focused, he could almost feel Y/N inside his mind, like another whisper of a presence, a ghost in his consciousness. When he reached out in his head for her where he’d felt the ghost of her presence, he was assaulted with bursts of memories he knew were not his own, images of unfamiliar people, places, and things flashing in his mind like photographs. Bucky's curiosity was almost childlike, awestruck and trying to understand what his brain was comprehending, sorting through what Y/N was showing him.

The more information Bucky absorbed, the darker each memory became until it felt like he was wading through molasses, each image being harder and harder to move past. A hoarse whisper of “No” echoed in his mind, and Bucky couldn’t tell if it was his own voice or Y/N’s.

A solid arm wrapped around Bucky’s middle, one much more firm than human flesh would be, and pulled him backward until his hands dropped from Y/N’s face, breaking whatever connection had refused to release him when he’d touched her. Reality came rushing back, and the room and people around him flashed into existence, the change in environment and sound disorienting him and leaving him panting for breath, his knees wobbling.

“She…” Bucky looked over at Y/N, who was just as distressed, and watched her collapse onto the bed, unconscious, before his vision blacked out and darkness took him as well.

***

Connected Tags: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @that-one-gay-girl @fanofalltheficsx @joseyrw @lana-writes-04 @gia-25 @klanceiscannon14 @ahahafudge

[waiting-for-motivation]

loyalty

summary: The mission to the prison with a rather fraudulent group, shows Din that family means love and loyalty.

pairings: Din Djarin x Reader

warnings: chapter six (!?), angst, blood, fluff

words: 1848

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

“I told you this was a bad idea, Din. It wasn‘t part of the plan that they would ever set a foot inside our ship. They could see the child and I don‘t want to know what they would do to him“, the female whisper yells and turns to the little foundling sitting in his makeshift cot. The Mandalorian behind her sighs because he knows that she is right. It‘s too dangerous but they are already in hyper-space.

“I understand you worry, cyar‘ika. But we need the credits“, the armed warrior says and places a gloved hand on her cheek. (Y/n) looks up with the shimmer of tears in her eyes.

Before Din can say anything to calm her down, the door slides open and Mayfeld stands in the door frame.

“I heard you whispering in here but I would have never imagined in my dreams that you would meet up with your little girlfriend“, the man says and grins at (Y/n) which makes her feel uncomfortable. Nevertheless, she doesn‘t show her distress, only staring at the man and the two other people behind him. Xi‘an and Burg followed their leader as soon as they heard him talking to Mando.

“What is that, like a pet or something?“, Mayfeld asks and takes a few steps forward, now standing directly in front of (Y/n) who is trying to protect the child.

“Yeah, something like that“, Din says before his love can say anything else. Just like her, he is trying to protect his foundling.

“Didn‘t take you for the type“, Xi‘an says as she enters the small room which is now filled with people. Burg wouldn‘t even fit in if he would be smaller. The female Twi‘lek lets her gaze wander from the Mandalorian to the child and finally to his girlfriend.

“Maybe that code of yours has made you soft and weak“, the Twi‘lek adds without taking her eyes off the female in front of her. She smiles at (Y/n) and shows her sharp teeth.

Mayfeld manages to push past Din and (Y/n), picking up the child. Immediately, the females stomach feels as if she needs to throw up. This bastard shouldn‘t touch her son.

After a few more mean glances they leave the small room. Mayfeld presses the child to his chest.

Outside Burg is stopping Mando and starts growling at him like a hungry wolf. Both look like they want to kill each other.

“Hey! Okay. Okay. Okay. I get it. I‘m a little particular about my personal space too. So, let‘s just do this job. We get in, we get out, and you don‘t have to see our faces anymore“, Mayfeld tries to calm the two warriors down while he sways the child in his arms. (Y/n) stays next to the strange and probably dangerous man because she fears he might hurt the child.

The group starts talking about Mandalorians and Xi‘an even starts to slightly flirt with Din. Although (Y/n) doesn‘t like that, her eyes stay focused on the child.

“He never takes off the helmet?“, Mayfeld asks and that‘s when (Y/n) looks up because she knows what will follow. Din will need her more the next few minutes than the child. “I wonder what you look like under.“

Slowly, (Y/n) walks towards her boyfriend and the huge red man next to him. Mayfeld starts to push the Mandalorian to show them just a glimpse of his face. Burg takes a step closer to the couple but the moment he raises his hand to try lifting up Dins helmet, (Y/n) punches him right in the face. Then she presses a knife to his throat.

“If I were you, I would sit down and leave us alone, asshole“, she growls and presses the knife harder against his red throat, making it bleed a bit.

“Wow, Mando. If you ever have enough of her sometime, I would happily spend a night with this lady“, Mayfeld says with a grin on his lips but the smile fades the moment a knife bores into the wall next to his head.

“Shut up“, (Y/n) says and takes the child from his grasp. She has enough of these strange people.

“Dropping out of hyperspace now“, a mechanic voice says and the next moment the whole ship starts to shake. Din runs towards his family, holding (Y/n) and the child in her arms against his chest, so that they wont fall.

Then it‘s time for the group to leave for the prison. One by one they jump through the hole in the floor.

Din is the last and turns towards his girlfriend and child. He places a hand on (Y/n)s cheek and takes a deep breathe.

“I‘ll be back“, he says with a soft voice.

“I know. Otherwise, I would have to get you“, (Y/n) says with a smile on her lips even though she feels anything but happy right now. She doesn‘t trust those people.

“I don‘t trust this droid. Lock yourself somewhere, okay?“, the mandalorian warrior tells her and caresses the childs ear before jumping down the opening.

It‘s ten minutes later when (Y/n)s bad feeling gets worse and the com-link in her pocket start beeping. She can‘t hear the mandalorians voice but is sure that Din must be in some sort of danger. Hesitantly, she leaves her hideout and places the child on the cot, looking at him with worry in her (e/c) eyes.

“I will be back. I promise! And Din will be with me, okay?“, she tells the child and hopes that she isn‘t lying to him. The child cooes before the door slides closed and (Y/n) jumps through the hole in the floor inside the prison.

Fortunately, she finds the mandalorian warrior quiet easily and quickly through the com-link. He is currently fighting a droid while he is inside one of those cells. When the droid falls to the ground, (Y/n) takes his arm and opens the door. To her own surprise, Din wraps his arms around her and gives her the most heart-warming hug she ever received.

“What happened?“, she ask confused still in his arms and her face pressed against his beskar armor. The mandalorian places his hands on her shoulders and they part but are still close enough.

“They betrayed me. The prisoner we freed, was Xi‘ans brother. It was kind of my fault he got imprisoned“, Din explains and lets one of his hands wander to the females cheeks. His gloved thumb caresses her skin. Then he realizes they should go back to the ship, at least (Y/n) should go back to the ship, so he takes her hand and they walk through the corridors.

“I‘ll stay here until I got all four of them. But you have to go back to the crest. The child needs you and you have to kill that droid“, Din tells his girlfriend as they enter the control room. From here he can help (Y/n) get through the prison without meeting anyone. He pushes some buttons and then turns back to her.

“You have to go now, cyar‘ika“, the mandalorian man whispers and sees the distress in his loves eyes. She takes a step closer to him and leans her forehead against his helmet. It‘s their replacement for a real kiss. It‘s their way of telling that they love each other.

After a few seconds (Y/n) leaves the control room and runs through corridors and to their ship. She climbs the ladder and what awaits her in the ship, takes her breath away.

While the child is hiding behind a box, the droid is holding a blaster and obviously looking for him. Immediately, (Y/n) takes her own blaster and shoots at the droid. He falls to floor, fuming like a fire.

Unfortunately, the droid could shoot too and injured the females left side. She falls forward but can catch herself with one arm. Then she crawls to the next wall and leans against it while she presses one of her hands against the injury.

The child waddles towards his mother and raises his hand to help her with the force, but (Y/n) takes his hand in one of hers.

“No. Don‘t use your strange magic trick. I don‘t want you to sleep the next three days. If you want to help me, get me bacta-spray and a medi-pack. It‘s right over there“, the female whispers weakly and rests her head on the box next to her.

For a few minutes her whole body is filled with pain and she almost can‘t keep her eyes open but then she sees the child with everything she needs and finds new hope. Slowly, she uses the bacta-spray and feels how her injury hurts less. Then she presses a patch to her side and sighs.

Right in that moment where (Y/n) lays there almost lifeless with closed eyes because she is relieved she could treat her own wound, Din returns. He widens his eyes and rushes to his girlfriend, taking her face in his hands. (Y/n) blinks at him and smiles.

“Cyar‘ika“, he says relieved but still looks at the patch on her side. At least, both of her hands are bloody. But it looks like she already did what he would have done.

A Twi‘lek comes inside the crest but Din ignores him and carries his girlfriend in their shared room, laying her on the cot and covering her with a blanket. The child follows him and clambers the bed, watching his mother. (Y/n) falls asleep.

Not before Din comes back, the Twi‘lek long gone and the razor crest in the safety of hyper-space, does the female wake up. She feels much better now, the bacta-spray worked.

“How do you feel?“, Din asks and helps (Y/n) sit up in bed even though she could do this alone by now.

“Much better. What about you? Any injuries I need to worry about?“, (Y/n) asks with a smile on her lips and looks Din up and down but sees no blood on him.

“I already took care of that“, he tells her and places one of his hands at the back of her neck. (Y/n) can feel his skin which means he must have taken off his gloves.

“We should take a hot shower after this terrible day“, the female suggests. Din nods and takes her hand. Together they go inside their little bathroom. The Mandalorian helps his love out of her clothes and inside the shower. It‘s routine by now. (Y/n) will wait facing the wall until the lights go out and Din joins her in the shower without his helmet.

The warm water runs over their bodies. It‘s one of those rare moment in which they can be as close as any other couple. They can feel the others skin and feel their lips press soft kisses wherever they can reach.

Time in the hot shower is cut short because the crest hasn‘t enough hot water for longer sessions. That‘s why Din and (Y/n) honor these moments. Din helps his love wash her hair while (Y/n) starts massaging his sore muscles.

They can be a normal couple in there.

[nautiscarader]

Nautiscader's Wendip Week 2021 - Day 2, say something

Melody asks Wendy and Dipper a favour. Will they prove her right in choosing them?

(Ao3)

===========

- Okay, here's the baby formula, here are the spare clothes, here's his favourite toy. - Agu. - It's called Agu. - Melody continued - At least this week it is, I think. He cannot talk yet.

Melody smiled and dragged her finger across her son's belly, causing him to giggle.

- Now, don't take this the wrong way, guys - Melody addressed her babysitters - I would usually ask Mabel and Pacifica, but since they are out of town, you are kinda my last hope. Are you sure you can do that?

Wendy Corduroy and Dipper Pines exchanged confident looks and nodded, giving Melody wide smiles.

- Don't worry, Melody, Shaun will be fine. - Wendy replied with a warm smile and took the chubby boy into her arms. - Yeah, I’ve helped Mabel babysitting, and Wendy obviously has tons of experience. - Dipper reassured her.

Melody gave each of them one last look, as if she was making final decision of which shirt to buy and returned the smile they gave her.

- Alright. We should be back by 7.

She leaned and gave her son one last hug.

- You won't cause too much trouble with Wendy and Dipper, will you, Shaun?

The baby waved his arms and replied and answer only he could understand. Melody jumped in place when she hear the car horn outside.

- Okay, take care of him! Call me if something happens!

And with that, she stormed out of Mystery Shack, leaving the two teenagers with a gruelling task.

- He does look like them, doesn't he? - That's how babies work, dork. - Wendy joked back - But yeah, he sure is Melody and Soos' son.

Shaun reached for his rattle and brought it to his mouth, prompting a fast reaction from both of them.

- No, that's not food. It's not plastic enough for food nowadays. - Wendy spoke, pushing the rattle away, much to Shaun's sadness. - Here, take this. - Dipper handed him a bottle of milk. - You-you know how to use it, right?

And Shaun answered that by chomping his baby lips around the rubber, eagerly sucking the milk.

- I think we make a pretty good team. - Wendy said, and the two high-fived each other and leaned on the counter. - Yeah, Mabel told me all about those times she had to make sure the baby is fine, as if it could spontaneously disappear or combust.

The two burst into laughter, and turned around to check on the baby, their voices silenced in an instant.

- Where is he?! - Dipper yelled - He-he was there! - Wendy pointed to the Shaun-less counter, still with all of his toys and empty bottle of milk.  

The two began frantically looking around, first to the floor, then to the doors and windows, and to their rising horror, Shaun was nowhere to be found.

Wendy grabbed a rattle and using it as a lure shook it to catch Shaun's attention, but up to no avail.

- Okay, how fast can babies crawl? - Dipper asked, opening one by one each barrel full of toys sold at the Shack.

In his mind, he tried his best to estimate where on Earth could Shaun disappear, and whether they should alert everyone in ten-mile radius.

But fortunately for them, one single "ding" solved their problem.

Wendy and Dipper turned their head towards the vending machine and saw baby Shaun standing in the elevator, though they only caught a glimpse of him when the door closed.

- No! - they both shouted and ran towards the shaft, but not until it closed completely. - How-How did he open the door? - Er, I'm gonna assume that "Tehees", "Doggy-dogs" and "NGC 7619 Galaxies" are his parents' favourite snacks? Cos that's what the combination matches...

Dipper furiously retyped the code and paced in place, waiting for elevator to come back up, hoping Shaun would still be there. But if the previous minutes have taught him anything is that children are far less predictable than he thought.

Dipper and Wendy stormed into the empty elevator and began riding down, dreading what could have happened with Shaun.

- Please tell me that Ford locked his lab... - Wendy spoke, after hiding her face in her hands. - Well, he usually does.

The elevator door opened, and their hearts sank again. This time he didn't. The two rushed into the underground lab, truly unsure what they could find inside. In front of them were vast rows of tables and bookcases, each containing, as they supposed, one of Ford's new experiments...

The two split up on both sides of the aisle, checking each and every box, crate and anything vaguely dangerous Shaun could have crawled into.

- Uh! Come on, where are you? - Dipper barked, unable to locate him. - I thought you've said that you've helped Mabel deal with kids! - Well... - Dipper's voice lowered down - Like, once. But what about you? I thought you knew how to handle babies! - I did not sign up for babies crawling into labs, dude! she barked back - You have three brothers! - Dipper exclaimed - Didn't they do stupid stuff? - YEAH, BUT MY MOM WAS ALWAYS THERE! - Wendy exploded and hid her face in her hands.

Any response Dipper had was stuck in his throat, as he watched her wipe away her tears she exploded into.

- Wendy... I'm- - She's always been there. - she continued - Like, I helped and stuff, especially with little Gus, but she still did the most... And Dad's always been there too, so... I wasn't that useful, really...

Her voice cracked, as she spoke, unable to meet her friend's eyes.  

- But then you called and... and I knew you needed help as well, so I knew what to do...

Dipper shied away and reached his hand to console her.

- Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done it. But we must find Shaun. - You're right. - she sniffed. - Agu!

At the sound of his voice, Dipper and Wendy jolted in place, frantically looking around, unable to locate the sound of the voice.

- Shaun?! Shaun! - Wendy shouted, getting familiar babbling in response. - Uh, W-Wendy...

Dipper tapped her shoulder, and pointed to the far-away end of the lab. Wendy gasped when she saw Shaun crawling on the top of flimsy-looking stack of books, reaching his hands to grab a model of a space-ship, dangling from the ceiling.

At the same time, Dipper and Wendy did the same thing. They've launched themselves, just as the stack of books lost all integrity, and baby Shaun fell.

Shaun was about to hit the other Shelf, but a pillow thrown by Dipper bounced him to the other side - evidently, it wasn't just filled with feathers.

Shaun fell into a box that Wendy caught, but as she looked inside - he wasn't there, and leapt from a second one, right next to her.

As she somersaulted through the air, Dipper tried catching him with a long net... and only succeeded by making him fly for another two minutes, as he wss now sporting wings.

Wings, which he lost when he passed through what looked like a UV light, but not before tearing the net apart.

But as he was about to slam into the ground, four arms reached out, grabbing him safely.

For an agonisingly long while, piercing silence fell, as Dipper and Wendy awaited some response from Shaun.

The baby looked at them, wearing the same baffled look, though without the dash of horror Wendy and Dipper sported.

- Shaun? Shaun! - Wendy gently took him in her arms. - Ugh, I wish he could say something! Hasn't Ford made a baby translator, or something? - Dida!

The two turned on the spot and watched as little Shaun babbled and pointed towards Dipper.

- Wait, what did you say? - Di-da! Di-da! - Shaun repeated eagerly - I think he means "Dipper"... - Wendy smiled, shedding another tear. - You think so, Wendy? - We-wy! We-wy!

Wendy gasped, and put her hands over mouth.

- That's-that's how Gus used to call me too...

She took him once more in her arms and giggled with him, hoping to get another rendition of her name. But the baby babbled "Agu" again, pointing to the spaceship model.

- Yeah, alright, have another Agu.

Dipper reached and, after checking if it didn't have any sharp edges, gave the flying saucer to Shaun.

- Let's get you back up... - Wendy, listen, I'm- - I know, dude. - Wendy cut him off - I didn't take it seriously enough as well..

With his new toy in his stubby arms, Shaun babbled in Wendy's arms, as the three got back in the elevator and rode up.

=======

- Okay, should give two burps now.

Wendy read the instructions, watching as Dipper held Shaun in his arms. He gently tapped his back, and to his amusement, received two small burps.

- Hey, it worked! - At least that's comforting...

The doorbell rang again, this time welcoming Melody back, as the businesswoman rushed back to see her baby back. Warm smile appeared on her face when she saw Shaun in Dipper's arms and she walked to take him back.

- Oh, Shaun, I've missed you so much... - L-Look, Melody!

Wendy and Dipper grabbed the little Shaun and proudly lifted him towards her, as if she has never seen her own child.

- Di-da! We-Wy! - He-he talks now! - Dipper exclaimed - A bit.

Melody's eyes brightened and shone with tears, as she took her son back into her arms.

- Oh, I'm so proud of you! Wait until your dad hears about it. - she gave Wendy and Dipper warm smile - You two have done really good job.

At the same time, Dipper and Wendy shared nervous looks, and as they both felt something churning in their stomach, they decided to come clear.

- Melody, look... the thing is... - We didn't. We turned our backs for a second, and... he just disappeared. - And he got into Ford's lab, and...   - And all the hell broke loose! - We... we failed you.

Dipper and Wendy awaited Melody's reaction, watching as she listened to their confession.

- Yeah, but that's what usually happens. Did he activate the copying machine again? - No, but- - Wait, what?

Melody smiled.

- Yeah, Mabel and Paz didn't have much luck with him as well. - she giggled. - You had to see their faces when there were fifteen of Shauns to take care of! One was only in black-and-white, it ran out of colour. It's a good thing those copies are destroyed when wet... Quite easy for babies, if you know what I mean.

Dipper and Wendy listened to her surprisingly nonchalant speech, as she continued to toy with her son's belly.  

- Well, I guess you've got a test for when you'll be parents.  

The two teenagers looked at each other, both sporting a deeply crimson blush on their faces, as they both rushed to deny any such possibility for a long time.

- Want to do something else and never talk about that? - Agree.

And the two jumped onto the sofa, ready to watch a movie in complete silence for once.

[calamitykaty]

Don’t Forget

CHARLIE X READER

WORD COUNT: 2399

WARNINGS: SOME SWEARING...LOTS OF ANGST, SOME FLUFF

REQUESTED: NO

“Promise you won’t forget about me when you make your dreams come true?” Her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt as she clung to him desperately. 

Charlie’s thumbs swiftly swiped the tears that gathered under her eyes. 

“I would never forget you, couldn’t even if I tried, love.” He promised and gently stepped out of her embrace as his flight was called for boarding. 

She wrapped her arms around her body, her knuckles white as they dug into her ribs. A quiet sob escaped as she watched her best friend disappear into the airport crowd. 

She had been friends with Charlie since they were practically in diapers. She was there for every major milestone of his and he was there for all of hers. She was there when Charlie played his first open mic and he was there for her first dance recital. He held her when she went through her first heartbreak, the same way she held him when he got his first “no” after a huge audition. If you asked Charlie, they went together like Peanut Butter and Eggs. 

She remembered crying for what felt like weeks when Charlie broke the news that he was moving to California to chase his dreams of acting. It wasn’t that she didn’t know the day would eventually come but she expected to be right there with him, along for the ride. Life didn’t work out that way for her though. She had suffered a career ending knee injury that took her from the largest stages in Canada to the sidelines of helping other dancers into costume changes backstage. 

Charlie kept his promise for the most part, at first, anyways. But then the first year had flown by  like nothing and their daily video chats slowly turned into weekly calls before calls turned into texts every now and then until texts turned into instagram comments and occasional likes. It wasn’t long before her calls were sent straight to voicemail by the boy and she felt her world slowly slipping away from her. She couldn’t blame him for living his life. Mostly, she just blamed herself for investing so much of her life into him. 

“Y/N!!!” Charlie's voice echoed through the phone, a large smile plastered on his face before he turned the camera around “Look! Palm trees...PALM TREES!” the boy yelled with giddy excitement. 

Her laughter filled the air in response. She missed him already but wouldn’t let him know that. 

“God, I can’t wait until you come visit. You’re going to love it here! The people...the food...the atmosphere...it’s just so electric here” 

“I can’t wait, Char”

The boy turned the camera back around so it was facing him “I miss you” he spoke softly and there it was, the words she was dying to hear. 

“You and me against the world, eh?” 

“Always, Y/N, Always.” 

“Hey, Y/N, we're gonna grab some lunch,.You want something?” She was pulled back to reality by her supervisor. 

She shook her head and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. The last show of the season had just wrapped the day prior and she was tasked with organizing all of the costumes and getting them back into storage. She quickly got back to work, pulling dresses from the rack and placing them in dress bags, making sure each was labeled correctly before putting them in order on the storage rack. She did this for each costume before moving to jewelry, shoes and other accessories. She pulled her phone from her pocket at the feeling of it vibrating. 

“Did you hear Charlie landed a netflix series?” Her sister, Lane, texted her. 

The corners of her lips tugged up into an involuntary smile and she sent back a simple thumbs up emoji before stuffing the phone back into her back pocket. 

She could feel angry tears welling up in her eyes and bit her lip trying to keep them at bay. She was happy for Charlie, truly. But the hurt she felt from finding out that he finally got his big break, a potentially life altering role, from her sister instead of from him was almost unbearable. Y/N wiped the tears from her eyes and grabbed her purse from the desk across the room, fishing her car keys out of the side pocket. She silently made her way across the parking lot to her baby blue Subaru Outback, the car that Charlie had convinced her to buy just so her car would match his orange one. 

Y/N quietly sang along to the song on the radio as muscle memory guided her to the local market where she needed to buy a few necessities. She clicked the little lock on her key fob twice, the car beeping to signal the doors had locked. She grabbed a cart and pulled her shopping list out of her purse, though she had every intention of just wandering around aimlessly and grabbing things as she saw fit anyways. She grabbed a box of tampons, some body care essentials and turned down the next aisle, her eyes looking down at the list, 

“Granola..” she muttered to herself and let her eyes wander down the aisle until she found what she was looking for. She tossed a canister bag of honey and vanilla granola into her cart before turning down the next aisle. 

“Y/N, is that you honey?” 

She looked up to find Charlie’s mother standing at the opposite end of the aisle. A smile broke out onto her face as she pushed her cart to the blonde haired woman. “Hi, Mrs. Gillespie” she pulled her into a hug. Charlie’s mom squeezed the breath out of her, the type of hug that only mothers give. 

“How have you been, dear? We haven’t seen you around lately.” 

She looked away, a tinge of guilt on her stomach. Part of Charlie being her person for so long was his family being like a second family to her, but it also meant that when Charlie disappeared from her life, she too disappeared from theirs. 

“Just been busy, I guess” She lied. “I should get going, it was nice seeing you Mrs. G”

Mrs. Gillespie gently squeezed her shoulder “Well, don’t be a stranger, yeah?” 

Y/N mustered a smile and nodded her head though her smile just as quickly fell when her ears picked up on a familiar laugh coming from behind her.  Y/N hurriedly turned the aisle and let out a breath that she hadn’t realized she had been holding. She felt her hands shaking and contemplated just abandoning her cart and coming back to the market another time. 

She pulled her phone out of her back pocket and clicked on the instagram app and searched for Charlie’s page. He had posted a picture two days prior of him hiking the Fundy, the caption read Good to be back home. Missed my people and my favorite place to hike. Y/N clicked on the picture, bringing up all of the people he tagged on the post, a mixture of family and friends, but most notably not her. 

“Hey, stranger…” Y/N muttered through the phone, the first time Charlie had answered her call in nearly three weeks. 

“Hey…” Y/N could hear loud music in the background 

“Is this a bad time?” she asked nervously. 

“No...I mean...w-well, kinda…” Charlie admitted. “I’ll call you tomorrow?” He offered in exchange. 

“Y-yeah, ok.” Y/N sighed, the phone disconnecting before she  could say anything else. She had kept her phone next to her at work the entire today the next day waiting for a phone call that never came. 

She pushed on through the rest of the market and grabbed all of the items that were on her list before heading to the self check-out. She could see the two Gillespies at the other side of the store, benign checked out by a teenage cashier. She quickly scanned her items and bagged them up before placing her debit card in the card reader and punched her code in before grabbing her receipt and making a hasty beeline for the exit, trying her hardest not to be stopped by Charlie's mother again. 

Her plan worked and she made it to her car without being stopped. She clicked the unlock button on her key fob before opening the hatch on the back and began loading her groceries into the back. She had almost escaped scot-free but when she closed the hatch her eyes landed on the boy, leaning against her car with a smile plastered on his face. 

“Charles.” She nodded curtly and turned around to take her cart back to the coral. She could hear his footsteps chasing behind her as she pushed the cart where it belonged. She felt the boy tug at her waist, turning her around to face him. 

“Hey, stranger” Charlie whispered down to her. 

She gently pushed against his chest, creating space between them and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Don’t touch me, Charlie.” She meant it to come out of her mouth with venom, for it to sound hateful, and mean but instead it came out as a scared plea. 

Charlie frowned, his eyebrows knitted down in confusion. He reached out a hand again but dropped it back down to his side when Y/N stepped further back from him again. She could feel the sting of tears start to prick at the back of her eyes and cursed herself, the last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of the boy. 

“Y/N…” Charlie begged as she walked away from him and quickly got into her car. She placed the key into the ignition and pulled out of the parking space, leaving the confused boy behind in her rear view mirror. When she got home, Y/N, abandoned her groceries in the car and headed straight to her room when she crawled under the covers and let her body finally feel all of the emotions that she had held in, her body shook with each hiccup caused by her sobs. Her phone quietly dinged next to her every 30 seconds for a few minutes until the texts turned to phone calls that she let go to voicemail. 

She woke up to a weight shifting on her bed, her eyes slowly fluttered open and landed on the boy laying next to her with worry in his eyes. She had forgotten that she had given him a key to her apartment the year before he left. 

“What are you doing here?” Her voice quivered. 

Charlie reached out, his hand cupping her cheek, the pad of his thumb lightly running from side to side against her soft skin. Y/N flinched at his touch causing him to remove his hand.She wanted to yell out to him, to push him away and tell him that she never wanted to see him again but she just didn’t have the energy to fight him. 

“Why was I so easy to forget?” she settled on, her voice raspy and broken. 

He knew he had hurt her but had spent the last year pushing it to the back of his mind, reassuring himself that when he got back to town that everything would just fall back into place. He never took into account the magnitude of pain that he had caused his person. 

“Y/N...I-i’m sorry” Charlie blinked back his own tears “y-you’re not forgettable--you’re everything to me, you’re my person.” 

“I’m not” Y/N whispered, “not anymore, Charlie.” Her eyes avoided his as she turned onto her back to stare at the stark white ceiling. 

“Congrats on the netflix role” 

‘I was going to tell you” Charlie sighed. 

She could feel his eyes burning into the side of her cheek. Y/N pursed her lips “sure.” She could feel the anger in chest start to ignite again and tuned so her back was facing him.

“You don’t get to come back, Charlie, and act like you didn’t erase me from your life over the past year.”

‘That’s not true, Y/N, I didn’t--”

“It is! And you know it!” She cut him off, her voice growing louder. She swung her legs to the edge of the bed and stood up, Charlie following suit. 

“It’s not like you ever came to visit me in California, this isn’t all on me, Y/N” Charlie argued.  

Y/N shot daggers at the boy, her hands raked through her hair. “Are you fucking kidding me, Charlie?” She spit with venom “You NEVER invited me! YOU stopped taking my calls, YOU stopped answering my texts, YOU decided you didn’t want me anymore.” 

Charlie's face softened “T-that isn’t true.”

“Isn’t it though?” She hissed in response with a bitter laugh.

“It was too hard” Charlie admitted selfishly “I couldn’t get you out of my head a-and I was blowing auditions because of it. I--I was really homesick..for you…” He closed the distance between them and pulled Y/N into his arms despite her pushing against his chest, he held tighter until her arms wrapped around his waist.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” Charlie whispered over and over and kissed the top of her head. The pair clung together for what seemed like an eternity before Charlie pulled back and cupped her face with both of his hands, the pads of his thumbs wiping away her tears. 

“Come to Vancouver with me?” His eyes searched hers. 

“Vancouver?”

Charlie let his lips curl up “It’s where the series is getting filmed, come with me...I don’t want to lose you again” he pleaded, his eyes flicking down from her eyes to her lips and back up again. 

“Yeah..ok” Y/N hesitantly agreed as she leaned in meeting Charlie halfway, their lips connected. Charlie dropped his right hand from her cheek and grabbed her hip, pulling her closer to him. Her hands weaved around his neck as her mouth opened, inviting Charlie in to explore before she pulled back and rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed and a small smile on her face. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for a really long time,” Charlie admitted sheepishly. Y/N rocked up on her toes, her lips ghosting across his “next time don’t wait so long” she responded before connecting their lips again.

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[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Selfish

Leviathan x poly gn!MC x Mammon

(formerly titled Relationships)

Words - 1486

Content Warnings - angst, lots of comfort, lots of cuddles, Levi is the focus of this story, Mammon is only mentioned

Prompt/Inspiration - none

Summary -  You head to Levi’s room to spend the day with him, only to find him upset and in need of some comfort.

AO3

It had been 6 months since you had been summoned to the Devildom for an exchange program that you only vaguely remember applying for. You had some trouble adjusting at first, but after some ups and downs you had finally gotten into the swing of things, and formed many close relationships with the brothers you were living with.

Two brothers in particular caught your eye more than all the others, and after a lot of back and forth, bargaining and negotiations, you had managed to form a healthy relationship with both Levi and Mammon. One would think that being caught between Envy and Greed would be an unpleasant thing, but your experience had been anything but. In fact, the pair complimented each other quite well, and you were lavished in attention and affection. All you had to do was make sure to split your time up evenly between them, (and yourself of course; here were literal timers involved here, and a very detailed color coded calendar), and everyone was happy.

Today was a “Levi day”, so you headed towards his room first thing in the morning to drag him down to breakfast with you, not wanting to miss a moment with your favorite otaku. You knocked on his door to give him a heads up, but didn’t wait for a response since you had done this so many times before.

When you entered, you found Levi curled up in his tub, apparently still fast asleep. You decided to join him for some early morning cuddles, slipping in beside him and spooning him from behind. You pressed a kiss to the back of his neck once you got settled, causing him to stir.

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

Levi didn’t respond, and instead pulled his blanket tighter around himself, so you kissed him again with a smile on your lips expecting him to roll over any moment, beet red, and ask you to stop doing that “so early in the morning.”

Except he didn’t.

He only burrowed deeper into his blanket, and you began to suspect something might be wrong.

“Levi?”, you called to him, “Hey, are you ok?”

You sat up a little, propping yourself up on your elbow, and gently stroked his face with the back of your other hand. It was then you realized that his cheeks were in fact damp, and that he had been crying, alone, in the dark, for who knows how long. The thought made your heart ache, so you carefully slid over him, to his other side, so that you would be facing each other.

You didn’t say a word as you wrapped him up in a tight hug, and he didn’t bother asking you any questions either and simply snuggled into your chest as you held him. You knew he sometimes had days like this where he just woke up with his thoughts so dark he could hardly crawl out of bed, but it had been awhile since the last time it had happened and you had started to hope that maybe he was past that.

After a while of laying there like that, Levi finally started to move and wiggled his arms free so that he could return your hug and pull you even closer. The gesture brought a smile to your face and you kissed the top of his head in return.

He was so happy to have you close to him, and so thankful that you seemed to just understand and hadn’t peppered him with questions. He felt disappointed in himself for allowing himself to get so upset, but he wasn’t sure how to verbalize that yet. He just knew that there had to be something wrong with him for feeling so hopeless. You tried so hard to make him happy and to make sure he felt loved...but sometimes he just...didn’t.

Sometimes all he could think about was how useless he was, how much better everyone else was at pretty much everything, how little the few “good qualities” he had actually mattered, and how much happier you could be if he was out of the picture. Sometimes the doubts grew so great that he even wondered if perhaps your whole relationship was a farce, and you were just humoring him because you didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“You ready to talk?”, you asked, giving Levi a small squeeze of reassurance.

“Just feeling off, I guess,” he mumbled into your chest.

“That’s ok. You can feel off sometimes,” you said, kissing the top of his head.

“...is it really?”

“Is what really?”

“Okay to feel off sometimes?”

“Yeah it is. No one is happy all the time.”

Levi thought about that for a moment, before deciding to tell you a bit about what was on his mind.

“...sometimes...I get worried that...that you’re just putting up with me…”

“...you mean you think I don’t love you?”, you asked, pulling back a little, trying to get a look at his face. But Levi only pulled you closer and ducked his head down further.

“...yeah…”

“Aww, sweetheart…” You rested your cheek on top of his head, as you began to run your fingers through his hair. You weren’t sure how to respond to that. Your knee jerk reaction was to simply tell him that wasn’t true, but you didn’t think that would do much on its own to comfort him. You needed something that he couldn’t reason away, that would stick with him and give him something to think about.

“You know how Mammon gets when he’s pouting, right?”

Levi didn’t speak, but you heard him snort, which you interpreted as a response.

“Do you think I’d willingly sign up to listen to that every time I make plans with you, if I didn’t like you…?”

You paused for a moment to let that idea sink in, knowing that he wouldn’t deny how annoying Mammon could be when he didn’t get his way.

“And you know how you get when you don’t get your way either…”

You felt him flinch in your arms, but kept going…

“Or when you get upset that you weren’t chosen in a raffle…

Or how clingy you get when someone gets a little too close to me when we are on a date…”, you said, continuing to run your fingers through his hair.

“Or how obsessive you can be when you discover a new interest…

Or how needy you get after I’ve been away for awhile…

Or…”

“ALRIGHT ALREADY! I GET IT! I'M A PAIN TO DEAL WITH!”, Levi snapped at you, pulling away from you so he could glare at you. As strong as his doubts were sometimes, he didn’t expect you to make him sit and listen to an exhaustive list of all his own flaws.

But when he saw your face, and the soft smile you gave him, he was utterly confused. Why were you looking at him like that, with so much love in your eyes?

You gently cupped Levi’s cheek with your free hand, stroking him with your thumb, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his forehead. You then looked him in the eyes once more, tilting his face ever so slightly with your hand to keep him from turning away so that he’d have to look at you too...

“So you know all that...all those things that you think are so undesirable about yourself...all the flaws you think you have...you know all that, and you still think that I am spending time with you even though I don’t love you?”

You watched as Levi’s eyes so full of doubt, and anger, and self hatred a moment ago, started to clear with realization. He either had to admit he was wrong for thinking you stuck with him just to be “nice”, or he’d have to admit that he was actually good, pleasant company to have around, and you wouldn’t have any reason to fake a relationship with him in the first place.

“I love you, Levi. I really, really do. I love every little thing about you, even the things you don’t like, and I enjoy every minute I spend with you. And I promise you if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here. You might think I’m a wonderful person, but I’m really not. I’m an incredibly selfish person that wants to fill my free time doing the things I enjoy, with the people I love.”

Levi closed his eyes and nodded his head. He really couldn’t argue with that. Who would spend so much time with a yucky, otaku like himself if they didn’t like him at least a little bit? He felt you kiss him on the cheek before wrapping him up in a tight hug once more, and he clung to you, burying his face in your neck, like you were the only thing keeping him afloat.