#it’s been awhile since I had one of those nightmares too I was starting to think I’d grown out of that but. no

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 4)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: After battling the symptoms of touch deprivation for weeks, Y/N sees Harry again in Chicago and he helps her deal with the worst of it.

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3

Word Count: 4.9k

Y/N POV

“You haven’t had a nightmare in 4 days?” Rachel asks.

“Nope!” You reply happily, taking a sip of your iced caramel latte. You and Rachel both have a free afternoon and decided to meet at a local cafe. You feel so much better than you had for the last few weeks that you felt confident to order a different drink. No tea that reminds you of Sarah, no hot chocolate that makes you think of Harry.

“And you’re not using those coping mechanisms you mentioned?”

“Haven’t needed them in days.”

“And you’re still not going to tell me what they were?” You blush at this question, embarrassed by the truth.

“No, that secret may come with me to the grave,” you joke.

Rachel looks at you, slightly worried and says, “It was safe right? You weren’t like, drugging yourself to sleep were you?”

“Oh God no!” You reply with a laugh. “Nothing like that, I swear.” Though you think to yourself that Harry’s scent in its direct form would probably be so delicious that it would act like a drug to you.

“Okay, I trust you,” Rachel says. “So, have you heard from Harry?”

You sigh, slightly disappointed by the answer you have to give. “Not since the night of the concert. I’m sure he’s been busy.”

“Maybe you should text him first.”

“And maybe you are out of your mind. No way. And before you say anything, it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm the girl or he’s the alpha or any of that sexist bullshit. It has everything to do with the fact that he’s Harry Styles.” You whisper the last part, aware that you’re in public and anyone around could hear the conversation.

“So what if he’s Harry Styles?”

“What would I even text him?”

“You could start with ‘Hi, how are you?’”

“Very funny. I mean, I guess I could. Maybe. I’ll give it a couple more days.”

“Waiting for him to leave the area?”

“Something like that,” you reply.

“Speaking of procrastinating things,” Rachel says teasingly, “have you called your doctor yet? To find out why that alpha knew you’re an omega even though you’re on suppressants and scent blockers?”

“Okay, that I did not procrastinate on. I called her but I can’t get an appointment until November.”

“Seriously?”

“Yea. I mean there aren’t a lot of doctors who specialize in omegas, so they’re always booked. Anyway, she said that my body has probably just developed a resistance to the pills. She’ll try to change my regimen after the appointment and told me to use the spray on neutralizers until then.”

“That sucks.”

“It does. I am so not looking forward to changing meds. It takes awhile to find the right combo and then there’ll be all new side effects. But it’ll be worth it.”

“I wish omegas didn’t have to hide who they are.”

“Me too. But that’s just how it is now.”

From there the conversation turns to lighter topics until you part ways to continue your day.

Another week passes and you still haven’t heard from Harry. On top of that the bad dreams come back, along with the restlessness, and chills. You’ve started using the old coping mechanisms again, which barely work this time around.

The morning after his final show in New York City, your social media is flooded with videos of him receiving his banner at Madison Square Garden. If there was any time to reach out to him, now was it. He said he wanted to be friends, right? A friend would absolutely congratulate him on this achievement.

It still takes you forever to type out the message, and ever longer to find the courage to press send. It’s nearly noon by the time you text Harry, “Congrats on the banner!”

It’s a simple sentence, just four words, and you still find a way to overthink everything for the two hours it takes Harry to reply. You’re taking a walk, grateful once again that you work on your own schedule and can take a break when you need one. And right now, you need one. Because you texted a celebrity and he still hasn’t answered and you for sure made a complete fool of yourself.

You stop dead in your tracks when your phone buzzes and Harry’s name appears on your screen.

From Harry Styles: Thank you! Can’t believe I got such an honor. How are you? What are you up to?

There’s a bench nearby and you sit to reread his message five times before replying.

To Harry Styles: You deserve it! I’m good, just out for a walk. How about you?

The next message comes in much faster.

From Harry Styles: I’ve been doing well. Took it easy this morning, currently enroute to Texas for the next shows.

You can’t help but feel disappointed that he’s no longer just a city away. You know it’s silly, but it was nice that he was so close by.

To Harry Styles: Enjoy Texas!

From Harry Styles: Thank you! Have you ever been?

To Harry Styles: Once, in college. Went to San Antonio with some friends.

From Harry Styles: That’s a great city, love the river walk there!

And so, you and Harry Styes became friends who text each other about random things. You talk throughout his flight to Texas, and sporadically over the next couple of weeks. It never gets very deep, all surface level conversations, but it’s nice. You feel like you’re getting to know the real him, and he’s getting to know who you are as well.

The texts from Harry are the high points. The low points are, unfortunately, very low. The hot chocolate, and roses, and forest smelling candles are no longer helping you. Bad dreams happen almost every night, you’re constantly cold, and there’s an itch under your skin that just won’t go away. The voice in the back of your brain is telling you it’s touch deprivation, but you refuse to admit that to yourself. You’ve never needed an alpha, and you refuse to depend on one now. So no, you do NOT have touch deprivation.

You’re checking your email, and you see that there are still spots open for a job training opportunity in Chicago. You rarely go to these, but it’s been a while, and you think maybe it would be good to go. There are always new types of data software, and you found the last two training courses you attended to be pretty informative.

Looking at the dates you notice the course is the following Thursday and Friday. In Chicago. You also notice that Harry will be doing shows there at the same time. You don’t admit that’s what seals the deal for you, but it totally is.

After registering and setting up your flight and hotel reservation you send a text to Harry. You casually mention that you’ll be in Chicago the following weekend. You’re surprised when your phone starts to ring, and Harry’s name is on the screen.

You answer the phone and he’s first to speak, saying, “You’re gonna be in Chicago?”

“I am!” you reply, matching his excitement.

“Can you come to my shows?”

“Which days are they again?” You ask this to try and seem like less of a stalker.

“I’ve got one Thursday, Friday and Saturday. You’re welcome to come to as many of those as you want,” he answers.

“I think Thursday is an all-day thing, so I won’t be able to come to that one. The training ends with dinner on Friday evening so I think I could make it just in time for the concert.”

“Ok great, and Saturday?”

“I am free all-day Saturday. My flight back home is Sunday afternoon.”

“Wonderful. I’ll have tickets for you for those two shows. That is, if you want to come of course.”

“Harry, I absolutely want to come.”

“Then the tickets are yours. All the details will come from Jada. I’d be a mess without that girl.”

“You paying her well?” you ask jokingly.

“She’s compensated handsomely, I promise,” he replies with a laugh.

“Happy to hear it.”

“I uhm- it sounds like you won’t be able to come before the show Friday, correct?”

“Unfortunately, no. I’ll probably get there right before you go on.”

“Forgive me if this sounds forward, but would you want to hang out after? It would have to be at the hotel, I can’t really be out in the city after a concert.”

“Totally understand that. And yea, I’d love to hang out after.”

“Great! I’m staying at the Nobu Hotel.”

You quickly look it up and see that your hotel is close by.

“No way!” you reply. “I’m at the Crowne Plaza like, two blocks away.”

“Well, that’s convenient. I’ll make sure there’s a car to take you to Nobu after the show Friday if that works for you?”

“Yea that would be great. I’d love to hang out!” You cringe, hoping that didn’t come off too strong.

“I’d love to hang out as well. Listen I have to go to sound check for tonight’s show. I’ll text you soon. And look out for the email from Jada, it’ll have all the info you need.”

***

Harry POV

“You’re extra happy today,” Elin says as Harry bounces around the venue smiling so big that both dimples are showing.

“I am!” He replies. “Thanks for noticing!”

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Sarah asks. “Because it’s definitely not how this sound check is going.” She has a point there. No less than a dozen things have gone wrong since they started, leading them to take a break while the sound techs work out a few problems.

“Just talked to a friend who will be in town next week.”

“Oh I see,” Mitch says. “So Y/N will be here?”

“Yes, and she’ll be coming to the shows Friday and Saturday. I can’t wait to see her!”

“Aw, someone’s got a crush,” Pauli says.

Harry ignores the teasing from his band members and says, “Honestly I’ve been a bit worried about her. I’ve just had this feeling that keeps getting worse.”

“Why do you think it has to do with Y/N?” NyOh asks.

“I mean, I don’t know for sure. But we’ve talked on the phone a couple times, and she always sounds exhausted.”

“I’m sure she’s alright,” Sarah says reassuringly.

“I know, I just can’t help it.”

“I completely get that,” Sarah replies softly, looking towards her mate.

“Fixed it!” One of the sound techs calls out, effectively cutting off the conversation as Harry and the band get back to work.

***

Y/N POV

The next week passes in what feels like slow motion. Every hour drags on. Your apartment building hasn’t switched from air conditioning to heat yet, so you’re constantly wearing layers of warm clothes and burrowing under blankets. The itch under your skin only gets worse, spreading to new areas each day until there’s a maddening tingle throughout your whole body.

Amelia drops you off at the airport Wednesday afternoon. You know she can tell that something is wrong, but you don’t offer an explanation, so she doesn’t pry for details.

You put on your mask before walking into the terminal. It’s a habit leftover from the pandemic, and also a great way to block out the potential strange scents. Alphas and omegas might be rare, but there’s always a chance a few will be around in such a crowded place. You’re extra sensitive to smells at the moment due to the touch deprivation that you’ve finally admitted you have. But it’s mild. Totally manageable. Not a problem.

The plane ride and subsequent train trip and walk to the hotel is exhausting. You stop and grab some food on the way. After checking in you immediately eat your quick meal, take a hot shower, and crawl into bed.

You’re almost asleep when your phone digs with an incoming text. You’ve already texted your family and friends letting them know you’re at the hotel, so you’re annoyed that someone is interrupting your sleep.

That is, until you see who the message is from. Harry’s name pops up with a text asking if you made it safely to Chicago. You practically melt at how sweet it is that he’s checking in on you. You send a quick reply before immediately falling asleep.

The first day of the training session is typical- informative, but boring. Harry’s show is still going when you get back to the hotel, so you watch on a livestream. You’re still exhausted and fall asleep before it’s over.

Waking up the next morning is difficult. Your body feels heavy, like your bones are filled with lead. The chills seem worse than ever and you’re grateful you packed yourself a heavy sweater to wear that day. Not only is it warm, but it covers up the marks from where you’ve been scratching at the skin on your arms due to the incessant itching.

You have trouble concentrating on the training throughout the day. There was one alpha there, and he was somehow in every single session you attended. He didn’t have a bad scent per se, but his presence alone became overwhelming.

By the time the sessions are over, you feel exhausted. You debate skipping dinner altogether but know you at least need some food before you can start your walk to the United Center. The alpha, whose name you’ve learned is Andy, sits next to you at dinner. He seems nice enough, you don’t feel threatened by him, but you still want to finish dinner and get away from him as quickly as possible.

Once dessert is over you grab your bag, ready to escape. Andy stops you before you go, asking for your number. Without thinking you quickly say, “I have a boyfriend,” and hastily leave the restaurant.

You’re not far from the venue, only a few blocks away, and you’re so out of it that you barely notice where your legs are taking you. It only takes fifteen minutes to get there, but you’re on edge the whole time. Glancing at your watch you see that it’s just before 8PM, meaning Harry should still be backstage.

You’re tired, and dizzy, and a little fuzzy, but knowing you’re so close to seeing Harry again has you moving faster than you thought possible. You’ve even built up a slight sweat, and you feel warm for the first time in weeks causing you to roll up the sleeves of your sweater.

As you approach the building you hear your name being called. You turn to see Jada running up to you.

 “I didn’t think you’d be here so early! Glad I was talking to one of the security guards, you walked right past the entrance,” she says.

You smile as she hands you your VIP badge and leads you inside.

“Harry has a few minutes before he needs to finish getting ready. He’ll be glad you made it before he goes on, I know he’s been dying to see you,” Jada says, causing you to blush.

“Well, I can’t wait to see him either,” you reply.

She knocks on a door which opens a second later. The first person you see is Mitch, who gives you a hug as he says, “Hey kid, good to see you again.”

“You too!” you answer, somewhat surprised by the warm greeting.

Sarah’s there too, pulling you in to a hug next. The moment her arms wrap around your shoulders, you’re overcome with a wave of dizziness. Black spots flash in your vision and you blink rapidly to try and clear them.

“You okay, love?” she asks as she lets go and takes a step back.

After a couple deep breaths you answer, “I’m good. Practically ran here from dinner, still catching my breath I guess.”

Harry, who’s been quietly watching you quickly walks to the fridge and grabs a water bottle. You reach out your hand so he can pass it to you, and see his eyes focus on your arm. There’s no way he missed the angry red scratch marks there, but you immediately pull your sleeves back down to hide them anyway.

“Can we have a moment?” Harry asks, causing Mitch, Sarah, and Jada to promptly exit and close the door behind them. He motions to the couch, and you’re reminded of the last time the two of you were in his dressing room together.

Like the last time, you sit next to each other, but he seems to be giving you more space. This confuses you. If he’s so excited to see you, why didn’t he greet you with a hug like everyone else? And why is he so far away now? And why does he seem so serious instead of happy?

“Y/N, I have a question, and it’s kind of personal, but I’d like you to answer honestly,” he starts.

“Okay,” you reply, taken aback by this turn of events.

He’s quiet for a moment, seeming to think of exactly what he wants to ask. Finally, he settles on, “Where did those scratches come from?”

“My arms were itchy,” you reply. Not a lie, though probably not the full truth he’s looking for.

“And the dizziness? Cause I don’t think it was from your walk. You seemed fine until Sarah touched you. Until an alpha touched you.”

You know what he’s getting at. He’s no dummy. Just minutes after seeing you he’s figured out what you’ve been hiding for weeks. Hiding from everyone, including yourself.

He watches you, and you know he’s waiting for an answer. But you can’t think of one to give him. So, he continues, “Y/N, I think you have touch deprivation. Is that fair to say?”

You let out a shuddery breath and nod. “Yea, that’s fair to say.”

“It seems pretty severe.”

You finally decide to open up, saying, “It’s been getting worse the past couple weeks. I don’t think my meds are working anymore, and the soonest doctors appointment I could get still isn’t for a couple weeks.”

“I’m worried you’re close to a drop. Like, any minute now. Or that you’ll go under if I touch you. You realize that you were close with Sarah, right? That if you’d stayed in contact with her, or if she’d released any pheromones you’d be in a full drop right now?”

Part of you wants to snark back, yell at him for going full alpha male and acting like he knows your body better than you. But the problem is, he’s right. It’s been so long since the last time you dropped that you forgot what it’s like. You forgot what the signs are.

But now that he’s pointed out the obvious, you really start to feel it. He sees as you deflate, starting to fold in on yourself. His hand reaches out, wanting to comfort you in some way, but he can’t. He can’t risk sending you into a drop, not when he has a show to do in just twenty minutes.

“You’re right,” you finally say. “I didn’t realize it. I thought I was handling it, that I could make it to my doctor’s visit and get new soothers and I’d be okay. I just don’t know what to do if I don’t have meds that work.”

“I’d like to help you, if you’ll let me.”

You finally meet his eyes and see that he’s completely serious.

After a moment you nod and reply, “Okay.”

“Okay? You’ll let me help?”

“Yes. I don’t know what else to do. And uhm, I trust you. You’re a good person, Harry. A good alpha.”

He smiles at your words before glancing at the clock and saying, “I have to finish getting ready in a minute. I’d still like to hang out after the concert. I think it might be healthy for you to do a drop with me there, if you’re comfortable with that?”

“I mean, I don’t like dropping. It’s only happened to me twice before and I was alone each time, so they weren’t good experiences. But maybe it will be different if you’re there?”

“I can help you through it, if you’ll let me.”

“What would you do to help? Like, how do alphas help omegas through that?”

“It depends on what you consent to but ah, I would hold you, help you get the touch your omega needs. Most alphas will scent the omega. It lets them know that they’re not alone, that someone is there protecting them, keeping them safe while they can’t do so themselves. I’d also release calming pheromones to keep your omega relaxed.”

“Okay. I’m okay with all of that. I’d like that,” you answer. Truthfully you’re a bit nervous. Harry Styles has just offered to hold you, to scent you for goodness sakes. That’s incredibly intimate. But you’ve felt so awful for weeks, and there are still weeks to go before you can get new soothers. And this is kind of a dream come true.

“Do you want to stay here for the concert? You can hang in here or go to the VIP box. Or you can head to the hotel now and take it easy if you’d like,” he says.

“I’ll stay in here if that’s alright,” you reply.

“It’s more than alright,” he answers. “And if at any point you want to get out of here just text Jada. She can arrange a ride back to my hotel and I’ll meet you there after the show. Or if you change your mind she can get you a ride back to your hotel too.”

“Thank you, Harry. For everything.”

“Of course. I know I don’t know you all that well, but I care about you. Anyway, I uhm, need to get dressed so I’m just gonna step into the bathroom for a moment.”

“I can go in the hall for a minute, get out of your way-”

“Nonsense. You’re not in the way. I’ll be right back.”

Harry finishes getting ready, and you make yourself comfortable on the couch. A couple of people come in, touching up his hair and make-up and before you know it he’s heading to the stage.

You watch on the screen in the room for the first few songs. After a while Jada joins you and you ask if you can watch from the VIP section for a bit. It goes well until Harry and the band take a break. You’d been so focused on the music that you were distracted from everything else around you.

But now all you can hear are all the other people, and it’s overwhelming. It becomes difficult to breathe, and you start to see dark spots once again.

You turn to Jada, and she immediately leads you back to the dressing room.

“Do you want to wait for Harry, or do you want to leave now?” she asks.

“I think I should go,” you reply.

“To your hotel, or his?”

“Harry’s, please.”

“Okay, wait here, I’ll get the car and come back for you in a minute.”

You sit back on the couch, seeking out Harry’s scent to calm you, but it’s barely noticeable.

Jada comes back and you follow her to the car. It’s a quiet ride to the hotel, and once there, she goes with you to the suite.

His room is on the top floor. It’s big, basically a full apartment, and you stay in what seems to be the living room. Jada sits on the couch with you, and you say, “I feel like you have more important things to do than babysit me.”

She laughs and says, “It’s not babysitting. I like hanging out with you. And you’re a priority to Harry. Which makes you a priority to me.”

The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence for a while until Jada’s phone buzzes. “Shows over,” she says. “Harry’s just getting changed and then he’ll be here soon. He said you can borrow some of his clothes if you want to get comfy.”

You hesitate and she adds, “I have no problem going through his stuff. I can grab you some clothes if you want.” You laugh at that and nod.

A short while later you’ve changed into a pair of Harry’s sweatpants, as well as a t-shirt and hoodie. They smell like him, and you shamelessly inhale the scent you’ve been craving for weeks. The suite door opens, and Harry walks in, looking incredibly cozy in his own pair of sweats.

“Thank you, Jada,” he says. “Get some rest, you’ve earned it.”

“Night guys,” she says as she leaves the room.

You’re left alone with Harry. It feels different, here in his hotel room, surrounded by his belongings, while you’re wearing his clothes.

“You left early,” he says.

���Sorry,” you reply.

“Don’t be. I’m just worried as to why you left.”

“I was just overwhelmed. Needed some quiet.”

“I understand. Y/N, are you ready for this? You still seem on the edge of a drop.”

“I’m ready.”

“And have you changed your mind about anything? Or is it okay if I hold and scent you through this?”

You pause for a moment, scared at how vulnerable you’re about to be. “I haven’t changed my mind. I want you to do that. I trust you.”

He takes a step towards you. “Thank you, for trusting me. We’ll probably be more comfortable in the bed.”

“Lead the way,” you say.

It’s awkward at first, the two of you sitting next to each other in his bed, backs resting against the headboard.

He turns to you and says, “Can I hold you now?”

You nod, and his arms wrap around you, pulling you until you’re tucked under his chin and resting against his chest.

Everything starts to get fuzzy, and you feel yourself losing consciousness. It’s an unsettling feeling, but you know that Harry is there to help you through this.

The last thing you hear before it all goes black is Harry calmly saying, “I’ve got you. Let go. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

Harry can’t describe the helplessness he feels as you go limp in his arms. He doesn’t allow himself to stress, or panic, knowing that his emotions will impact you. Instead, he takes some calming breaths and thinks through everything he knows he needs to do in this situation.

He hears you whimper quietly as you start to shiver, and he doesn’t hesitate to soothe you. It takes some maneuvering, but soon you’re both laying down in the bed. He tucks his nose into your neck and begins to scent you, releasing calming pheromones until you relax.

It continues this way for the next couple of hours. Harry holds you, and scents you, his nose rubbing against the gland in your neck. During one moment when you seem particularly distressed he can’t help but place kisses there to soothe you faster.

Finally, you start to stir. It takes longer than Harry had anticipated, so he’s relieved when your eyes meet his after hours of being closed.

“Hey there,” he says with a soft smile.

“Hi,” you answer groggily. “How long?”

“Couple hours. Your inner omega needed the rest. Now you need some too. Go to sleep, I’ve got you.”

It’s the same words he said before you dropped. You wish you could hear that all the time. No one has cared for you before, not like this. It feels good, but you remind yourself not to get used to it. Still, you curl into his embrace, enjoying every moment of contact with Harry that you can get.

The next thing you know, it’s late morning. You’re still cuddling against Harry, and his deep breaths indicate he’s still sleeping.

You feel amazing. You’re nice and warm, your mind is clear, and the constant itch and restlessness are nonexistent. You’re extremely grateful, but at the same time, you’re annoyed that you need to depend on another person just to feel normal. But you don’t dwell on that. Because Harry is starting to stir next to you.

“Hey,” he says when your eyes meet his. “How do you feel? Sleep okay?” God, you could melt at the gravelly sound of his morning voice.

“I’m good. Feel better than I have in a long time. And according to that clock, I slept wonderfully.” The two of you laugh, seeing that it’s nearly noon.  

“I was hoping to treat you to a nice breakfast, but I guess I missed the window on that,” Harry says, continuing to laugh with you. “I do still have plenty of time before I need to be at the arena. Would you like to spend the afternoon with me exploring Chicago?”

“I’d love to,” you reply. His face breaks out in a huge smile before he leans down, once again running his nose along your scent gland. You go limp at the feeling, happily submitting to him.

You don’t think about the fact that this is temporary. That you leave to fly home tomorrow afternoon. That you’ll be without his alpha scent once again.

Instead, you think about the hours you have ahead of you, hours to spend with Harry. Nothing could be more perfect.  

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AN: Thank you so much for reading! This was one of the scenes I imagined when I first thought of the story and I'm so happy that it's finally shared with you all!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz @fictionalmensblog @buckybarnessimpp

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #wolfrry

[sosa2imagines]

I had my dance and now I'm where I belong. Part 5

----------------------------------------------------- Warnings- Angst for Bucky, Fluff for all (This part will mostly focus on Bucky facing the consequences) ----------------------------------------------------- Part 6 -----------------------------------------------------

Saying yes to go on a date with Steve was the best decision of your life! On your first date he took you to an Italian restaurant and was the perfect gentleman, on your way you had notice few girls drooling over him trying to get his attention but he kept looking ahead and at you, ignoring everyone else. Like only you existed on the planet. Steve made you feel better, feel worthy of love again like there was a light at the end of the dark tunnel.

On the other hand ever since Bucky thought about you his head has not been in the right place. Sharon did finally showed up that night in a disheveled state hair a mess, lipstick all over her mouth but Bucky was too tired to notice, but that didn't stop Sharon from being mad at him for the mess in the room ignoring his painful state she kept the lights on purposefully to annoy Bucky which resulted in him sleeping on the couch, you would never do this to him he thinks about you again.

But that was just the beginning, they would have little and minor arguments here and there like any other couple would but than they turn into more serious and loud arguments. It was only few months into the relationship when the arguments started getting intense that led to resolving their issues by having make up sex and things would go back to normal for awhile. 

Even when some random girl would flirt with him Sharon won't confront him unlike you, again he compared you and her. Sharon had a simple solution for everything 'sex'. It would be a huge lie if Bucky said he was not getting fed of it. Sharon was in the mood but Bucky gently denied her instead suggesting her to cuddle and talk, naturally she scoffed still determined she cupped his dick but that only made Bucky yell at her "Can't you for once do something else other than sex?" Sharon removed her hand only to hit Bucky with the pillow which again resulted in him sleeping on the couch for god knows how many times in his own room!

That made him think about his situation relationship with Sharon. She knew Bucky was dating you, yet neither of them pulled away from the kiss and one thing led to another and Bucky slept with her for the entire trip. He knew he shouldn’t have continued things further with Sharon after that mission, yet the sneaking around gave him an adrenaline feeling, he enjoyed it. Their sneaking and love affair continued, at one point Bucky did find himself beginning to fall for Sharon and he was also beginning to be even happier with her. 

But than Steve came back, of course he beat him up and Tony did to but both of them said the same thing Sharon will screw this, but how? He started to miss out the little things like hanging out with his friends, enjoying movie nights, playing games, cooking, then he also started missing you the time spent with you how it was not just about only sex, you guys would cuddle, talk for hours without getting bored, go for long walks and help him whenever he had nightmares. Sharon eventually did helped him in the beginning but later on she started to get annoyed she would tell him to suck it up be man enough, on those nights he missed you and Steve terribly, you both would help him in unique ways that made him sleep peacefully.

But now those are only memories and now he lost his friends that are family along with you now he is living with just friends who barely talk to him. Somewhere deep inside he was realizing his mistake he was no longer enjoying infact he was suffering but his ego and pride was bigger at the moment to make him accept the truth.

Few days later few important CIA agents had come to work along side Shield and Tony was more than happy to entertain them especially one particular person 'NICK FOWLER' no one knew he was with the other agents. When Sharon saw the agents she knew instantly helping them would do wonders to her career. So she was casually chatting, flirting, all this was being witness by Bucky who was fuming smoke coming from his ears. He drag Sharon away from them to a corner she was quick to yank her arm away "What the hell are you doing?" She yelled at him "What I'm doing? what are you doing flirting with them?" "That's rich coming from you" "What's that suppose to mean?" "As if you don't flirt with others" "So is this payback?" "Oh honey I don't do paybacks now suck it up you look so cute when jealous" she patted his cheek and left. Their bickering did not go unnoticed by Nat who was smirking.

But Bucky went into a guilt trip as soon as he heard those words 'you look so cute when jealous' that's what he used to say to you whenever you would talk to him about his behavior, in that moment Bucky realized how you must have felt. He never even said sorry to you. Just then he saw Sharon again not just flirting but getting way to close for comfort. The way they were glancing at each other, the way his hand was roaming on her something, no not something, everything felt wrong. "That's Nick Fowler" Tony cuts his train of thoughts "What?" Bucky asks in confusion "CIA agent Nick Fowler, rest of the agents will head back but he is going to stay for a day or two" Tony smiled. "Rogers hates him if he was here that man would have been dead." Tony adds more to Bucky's confusion. "Why?", "Hmm" Tony acts like he thinking smirking he shrugs "Ask Capsicle, a little friendly advice though, keep an eye on those two Cap was lucky not so lucky can't say the same about you" "Wait, what?" Before Bucky can ask anything Tony was gone.

Back at home after another awesome date- "You are quiet today" he asks playfully "I'm thinking" "Can I know what are you thinking about?" You nod looking at the ground blushing hard "I think I'MFALLINGINLOVEWITHYOU" in one breath you confessed what Steve was dying to hear. Steve literally choked on air you had to pat his back "Jesus I didn't know you would react this way, are you okay?" "No I mean yes what did you say? slowly please" You wide your eyes closing them taking a deep breath opening again you look into his eyes "I love you Steve" you tell him pressing your lips back to his. Steve made you feel safe, feel like he would never hurt you in anyway, especially in the way Bucky did. Unlike with Bucky, being with Steve felt secure. There was no doubt that he would be a loyal, loving man.

Ever since Nick Fowler had entered the Tower Sharon was spending more time with him. Bucky was losing his patience. She was hardly with him. Bucky even tried to lure her with promise of a mind blowing sex but she just pushed him away saying she is busy working. "Hey man how does it feel?" Sam asks enjoying the frustration of Bucky. "What do you want?" Bucky asks him clearly annoyed "Y/n felt same when you ignored her only difference is she was not cheating on you" Sam furrowed his brows trying to put some sense into Bucky's brain. But before Bucky could say anything the elevator door opened revealing Sharon and Nick giggling, random blabbering and holding hands. Sam whistled and left the trio alone.

"Where were you?" Bucky barks anger clearly visible, Nick just smirks he hugs Sharon and not so gently squeezes her waist giving Bucky a look and heads towards his room. "What was that?" "What was what Bucky what's gotten into you? We just went out for dinner", "For four hours?" "We lost track of time, aww are you angry? baby you look so cute when you are jealous" again those words something snaps in him he drags Sharon to their room pushes her against the wall he tears apart her shirt and before he can proceed he stops. "What are these?" he asks pointing his finger to the marks on her neck and collarbone. Sharon looks in the mirror and all the color drains out from her face. Bucky's mind flashed him the image of Sharon's disheveled face from many nights ago. "GET OUT!"

----------------------------------------------------- Part 6 ----------------------------------------------------- TAGLIST- @differenttyphoonwerewolf @nouk1998 ----------------------------------------------------- (Hey lovely people why do you think Steve hates Nick? Hope you all enjoy this part finally Bucky getting what he deserves, I know I have dragged it long but I really don't won't to make the parts way too long to read. As always feedback is appreciated lots of love to you all 😁❤️. Sneak peek- Since I dragged it too long, Sharon will be kicked out tomorrow but she will ask someone else to help her and someone else of that some else will slap her 😂) -----------------------------------------------------

#sebastian stan characters #chris evans characters #bucky barnes angst #steve rogers fluff #bucky barnes x reader angst #steve rogers x reader fluff #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader

[l3viat8an]

Poly mc: Imagine going to the human world with bros and a bunch of little kids and teens calls poly mc the most ugly person on the street and a fatso, all while laughing.

My friend was called that, and never in my life I wanted to punch a child. They held me back and said it wasn’t worth it.

Fuck them kids and your friend is a better person than me I would’ve helped punch a child- CW: fatphobia / body shaming-

Walking around the human world with your demons is always an…adventure for lack of a better word lol-

Asmo wants to drag you into every little Beauty boutique you pass, Satan wants to take you into every bookstore, Levi the arcade or little comic book shop, Beel every restaurant or café you pass- okay, okay you get the idea, they all want to drag you off and have fun!

But on the nicer days like this~ when the sun is hidden behind some clouds and it’s not too hot, it’s always nice to just go on little walks through the local park together!

It gives the demons a new look on the human world and let’s you show off your hot boyfriends! (Even if nobody’s really looking-)

and you get some much needed human world sunshine! What could be better?-

Until you passed a group of kids at the little play set, the one started pointing and laughing, you can’t hear what the kids are saying yet.

So you crack a joke about the kids being able to tell the boys are demons “Kids can always tell these thing, you know.”

Before laughing and continuing to walk, your group is still out of earshot of the kids but Levi grumbles about kids being dumb and Satan flips them off, Lucifer slaps his hand down, almost immediately, “Satan! Act right, those are children. They don’t know any better.”

Satan grumbles something under his breath.

But all in, all your groups keeps walking getting closer to the little playground and past the laughing kids, “Hey fatso! How much money are you paying to rent these stupid models?” “You know, nobody thinks any of them are actually dating a fat pig like you right?”

To say the demons were ready to punch some children is an understatement-

“Hey, kid c’mon over here fer a minute I just wanna talk.” If the children had any sense they wouldn’t go anywhere near Mammon with that ‘smile’ on his face, Satan isn’t nearly as worry about hiding his true intentions honestly, “I don’t want to talk, I want to punch a child.” Belphie just glares at the children “Tiny humans, really don’t have any manners anymore.”

Asmo looked as if he was in shock before marching up to the children, “Listen, here you brats, because I’m going to give you the lesson your parents never did; Only bitter nasty little humans, judge each other by their looks alone, and only bitter and miserable people decide that everyone else must be. Simply because someone doesn’t fall into your idea of a beauty standard doesn’t mean they’re automatically miserable, or that they’d have to buy love. I’d say you should be you ashamed of yourself but it would be a waste of time.”

Turning on his heel Asmo walks right back over to you, loops your arm through his and starts walking away.

“Wow…it’s been awhile since I’ve seen you get that upset.“ you say a bit impressed “Oh hon, I’m so sorry you had to hear that! But I hate children like that.” He presses a quick kiss to your cheek, and keeps walking.

You turn back to see if the others are following yet, and while you can’t hear what Lucifer or Beel said you can see the childrens faces drop and the two start backing away “What are they doing?…..” you’d almost feel bad, but really the kids started it “Probably just a few empty threats, don’t worry about it sweetie~! Now what should we do when they catch up~?”

The demons aren’t going to let a few nasty kids ruin your whole day after all!!

(Tho if you do want the kids to suffer a bit more Belphie can always give them nightmares- and I’m sure Satan or Lucifer have some ‘lovely’ curses-)

#roro writes #obey me! #obey me #obmswd #obey me x reader #obmswd x reader #om! #om! x reader #obey me x poly reader #obmswd x poly reader #om! x poly reader #obey me comfort #obey me x chubby reader #obey me x plus sized reader

[yanderes-galore]

Can I request stuffy AU Nightmare Bonnie HCs?

Yes you can! Here you go :) Not fully proofread, sorry for mistakes.

Yandere! Stuffy AU! Nightmare Bonnie Concept

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Manipulation, Sadism, Violence, Demonic attachment, Possessive behavior, Marking, Forced companionship.

Nightmare Bonnie is a lesser demon to Nightmare.

Which means his powers and control over dreams is still there... but it isn't as strong as Nightmare's

As this is the Stuffy AU he also has the ability to become a cute plush toy.

Such a small and harmless object... hiding such a dark and twisted truth.

There's a few ways you could meet the demon.

Perhaps you bought the odd purple bunny plush toy at a store.

Maybe he was a toy your parents had before.

Or maybe he just... showed up in your attic one day.

Somehow you manage to get the plush in your home.

The moment that purple bunny plush is in your home, the fun begins for Bonnie.

When you leave for work or school Bonnie swaps from plush form to his true form.

He memorizes your home layout and peaks around.

Bonnie can take in your character by looking at your decor and belongings.

The demon sniffs around with curiosity while looking through his newest victim's home.

Bonnie feeds off the fear you generate by tormenting your dreams.

By creating nightmares he can briefly chase you through them to feed.

Due to being a lesser demon, Bonnie can't manifest his full powers for awhile.

Even then he isn't as strong as Nightmare or Nightmare Fredbear.

It would probably be easier to get rid of him than those two bears.

Doesn't mean he'll allow it though.

I imagine until he's strong enough his true form is mostly invisible to you.

People who are attuned to seeing demonic presences can see him, but not you.

Not unless he has you in a nightmare at least.

You only see him as a plush toy.

One you strangely yearn to carry around.

Bonnie engorges himself on your fear until he grows stronger.

He torments you but soon develops an attachment to his victim.

Your fear tastes sweet, your expressions look cute.

Bonnie stalks you when you're not looking and feels giddy when others start to see him.

His demonic attachment grows in strength, soon allowing him to coax more fear out of you.

Late at night you begin to notice odd silhouettes in your home.

When the plush toy is out of your sight, it looks like there's a giant rabbit in your home.

Bonnie stays out of sight, now capable of appearing in your vision briefly.

Every nightmare you have involves Bonnie.

Most are sadistic chases, others are a twisted form of affection involving biting and scratching.

Since you only see Bonnie out of the corner of your eyes, anxiety pours off of you.

A delicious drink that feeds Bonnie as he grows in strength.

Despite your fear and anxiety, you hug onto that plush toy like it'll save you.

If only you knew that the plush toy you hold for comfort was harming you

You don't learn the truth until Bonnie gets strong enough to fully manifest.

Your fear is at an all time high when you see the plush toy next to you vibrate as you sit down.

You scamper off your seat when you see the plush toy grow into a monster full of teeth and claws.

It reminds you of the bunny you've been seeing.

Then it clicks....

You're dealing with a demon.

You've been dealing with a demon.

One that has grown strong due to your emotions.

The bunny doesn't stop grinning as you back away.

Oh you poor baby... scared of the big bad rabbit?

You should be.

Now he can take his games into the real world and feed off you more.

Normally Bonnie kills his prey by this point... but he likes you too much for that now.

Instead he'll make you his plaything.

Even when you get rid of the plush toy, he returns later.

He's always around you.

You reek of demon, people get a bad feeling about you.

They should.

Especially when Bonnie's following you around with eager bloodshot purple eyes.

Sometimes he nips and claws you to fuel his desires.

Sometimes he leaves you be.

Unless you can find someone to sever the demonic attachment Bonnie has with you...

You're going to be his forever.

#yandere five nights at freddy's #yandere fnaf #yandere fnaf 4 #yandere fnaf stuffy au #yandere nightmare bonnie #yandere stuffy au nightmare bonnie

[v-era-18]

HoneyBee

Chapter Seven: Sleep Talk

“ Even the best of hero’s have nightmares. It's how they conquer them, that makes them worthy enough for the title,”- (G/D) (L/n)

7

Energon. Screams. Blasts. Falling!

The young brown skinned girl woke up with a start, tears flooded her honey eyes as she stared at the dark depths of her room. The twist and turns of the shadows didn't make things better as she could still hear and see the war terrorist from her nightmares; the red glowing optics to the angler metal of his faceplate. His whole design screamed ‘fear me’. Her grandfather went a little too into detail when telling her the story, he stopped shortly after she started to shy away underneath the covers. It was too real. 

(Y/n) could almost vividly see the metal sword in her hands, swish and flick of her tail in her peripherals as the autobot leader gave orders to the autobots for their mission. It was everything she could imagine, fighting alongside hero’s for their planet. That was until everything they had accomplished was stripped from their arms within a few minutes. Scouts turned up missing, wreckers removing themselves from the fight as lost hope began to emerge, don't even get her started on the captains and sargents. 

She wanted to be that hero that would earn the words ‘well done’ by a Prime. In the end, she was a fool. A child that didn't know any better. 

She almost died, she could still feel her weightless body flowing through the air nearly hitting the metal ground below. It was horrible the sights she had seen; torn metal appendages, energon spilled-dried and fresh, to the lifeless cybertronian bodies laid in vast piles. These were the parts of war she had nightmares about-the cost of the auto bot cause, millions of lives and deaths thrown away for a planet that might not ever be the same way again. 

She needed to leave the dark. She didn’t want to think of those red optics scratching down her small form. 

(Y/n) got out from under the covers with space cadet number five-her teddy bear- and made the decision to seek out her grandparents in their room. It had been awhile since she’s done so, after all she was twelve now and needed to stop relying on her grandparents for these sort of things such as comfort. But the grave voice of that monster continued to echo in her head. 

‘Run little knight! But your death awaits today!’

 The master bedroom was at the end of the hall. It had a large bookshelf in the far corner along with a desk littered with papers that were no doubt the affairs of the (L/n) library. The walls were pure ivory. ‘We leave the walls white like a canvas ready to be painted.’ The bed was a carved one-antique- harboring the foreign language not made for the human youngest. She never could figure out what it said, Nana said she would be told when she was older. 

The door to they’re bedroom was already open, on the other side she could hear their voices halting her movements. Her grandmother was upset, her voice rolling out in hisses she used in order not to wake her up when they were arguing. (GD/N) sat on the bed rubbing his head in frustration, his hair was long gone by now, only his beard and eyebrows left. 

“I can’t believe you’re going through with this!” Nana said, she was pacing back and forth her clasped hands over her heart. One thing about her grandmother is that her emotions affect her heart severely due to her age: one day something was going to give her a heart attack out of pure fright, “there’s an opportunity for you to live longer and you won’t take it-“ 

“I’ll live for a few more years with the treatment, but love-I’ve already lived a life worth living,” his mind was made up, he wasn’t going to sit by and invest money in a treatment to give himself a few more years, “You could use that money to put (Y/n) through college-“ 

“What about her?! You care enough about her education but not enough about her heart when she hears about your health?!” She sobbed, “She’s already lost her parents! Not to mention Estel who she can’t even remember. She can’t afford to lose someone else!”

“(GM/N) I-“

A creak of the door halted the two’s conversation, immediately looking towards the opened door seeing a stray teddy bear in its place. (GD/N) could hear the creak of another closing door at the end of the hall, giving them the answer to his suspicions. 

(Y/n) was never good at pretending to fall asleep, especially when she was in trouble, or her mind continued to be active with endless possibilities. So when her grandfather sat on the end of her bed she decided to give it up and peek under the covers slightly. 

The older man before her doesn't seem upset in the slightest, only a sad look in his eyes and a patient smile upon his lips. She opened her mouth to apologize for eavesdropping only for him to cut her off, “I'm sorry to wake you up sweetheart. That wasn't something you needed to hear-especially on a school night.” He fondled her teddy bear in his hands a bit before passing it over. 

She gave it a little hug in response, “You didn't wake me up pops, i-it was him,” saying his name almost felt like a sin. A ‘he who shall not be named’ vibe with how much evil radiated off of him. 

(G/D) brought the girl into his arms and kissed her forehead softly, it felt almost bittersweet with how much she had heard. She wasn't oblivious to what was going on; the less frequent stories at night, how tired he had grown so much he would miss out on dinner sometimes, to the way he had to force a smile after each cough. She knew her grandfather wasn't well, but just for a moment she didn't want to discuss it, she wanted to live a bit oblivious a little bit longer. 

Oblivious to the fact he one day wouldn't be here to tell her every story known to man. Her original storyteller. 

“He will not harm you,” He whispered in her hair, “he is far enough from your reach.” 

“Because he's eroding on some planet somewhere right pop pop?” (Y/n) smiled a bit expecting him to do the same only to receive a faltering smile instead. Her expression fell, and a sense of dread filled her stomach, “He is far away from earth right Pops? He is simply a legend…..fiction-,”

“I have told you many times (Y/n). Legends stem from some form of truth, whether it simply be stories altered over time or something the human mind simply can't comprehend.” (G/D) looked towards the bookshelves in her room, eyes landing on the leather books, “I at times couldn't comprehend, neither could my subconscious mind. But there at times would be a voice or two in my corner ready to prove and relay the message before it indeed became that in my mind-a story-fiction.” 

The young girls lips wobbled, “So he's going to come kill us all one day, and there's nothing I can do about it,” fat tears fell down her round cheeks as she furiously wiped them away, “How can I be a hero when all I do is have nightmares about that-that-stupid and selfish warlord and hide underneath the covers at the mention of him?” 

 “You are already beginning to act like a hero,” (GD/N) chuckled. His amusement to her augment fueled her frustration. Out of all the books she’s read it was hard to believe that cybertronian hero’s got scared, or were haunted by their terror. Could they even dream? When they recharge do they imagine what peace seems like? The families they could have and more? 

“No I'm not!” She argued, “A hero doesn't get scared! Optimus doesn't get scared! The book never once mentioned him getting scared or having nightmares!” 

“Ah,” He laughed, “That is indeed true, the book never mentions the Prime getting scared, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get scared like the rest of us. On the contrary, I bet every time he went on that battlefield his spark was pounding to the point he could barely give orders to his comrades. Lives are in his servos each time he goes on the battlefield-and that is indeed scary…especially if his most trusted friend is now his enemy, because he lost his way.” 

(G/D) grabbed the young girl's chin and held it high, “Even the best of hero’s have nightmares. It's how they conquer them, that makes them worthy enough for the title,” 

If he was going to leave, he was going to make sure she achieved this dream at least. Afterall, if things were to go down the way their family all knew, she would be the main successor out of all of them. The main hero of planet earth.

~ ✯ ~

The group made haste through the facility guiding the large cybertronian towards the Cube. Every second counted in this situation, there was no time for mistakes. It could be felt through the air: the tight tension of who was to die today and who could be saved. 

They made a mistake, and it was time to fix it. 

When they reached the room the cube was being held it took (Y/n) a minute to steady her breathing. Her eyes had gazed at it not even forty minutes ago from a safe distance, now that she was up close all the stories and legends told didn’t do it justice. The large encrypted block raided power. 

Life. 

Destruction. 

Sam dragged her out of her gaze by pulling on her sleeve guiding her to the side as large ped steps got closer. It was grounding, as if the bots' near presence was a shield from everything going on. They were his charge, no harm was going to befall them. 

The scout looked up at the cube for a minute before reaching up and placing his hands against it. Whirrs of wonder echoed from the young bot, leaving her to question if  he knew what to do in order for them to leave with it. It was huge! Too large to even drag it out of the building with five autobots to join in the haul. For a moment and just a moment, she did wonder if the pyramid were all cubes, the other half buried underneath the ground. It was ridiculous, colonizers couldn't break through cybertronian tech as well as they could rock. 

“Does he know what he’s doing?” Mikeala whispered to (Y/n).

“Of course he does,” she replied without hesitation, “he’s smarter than he lets you know.” 

Optics flickered to her for a moment sending chills down her spine. She hadn't realized he could hear them whispering, and hot shame boiled in her stomach as if she did something scandalous. She would have to at least write that down somewhere that autobout have advanced hearing. 

Bumblebee focused back on the cube placing his digits back up on it before an electric shock of blue consumed the cube. A metallic whirring could be heard along with the familiar shifting of metal as the artifact started to fold in on itself seeming to get smaller. He moved his hands in focus, seeming to instruct the cube what and how he wanted things to be done. 

The humans in the room could do nothing but watch in sheer amazement. After centuries and years of believing they knew everything only to find out they didn’t even have half of it was truly shocking. 

“Oh, my god,” Mikeala said, “(Y/n) this is-“ 

“More than I’ve ever dreamed of,” (Y/n) smiled, her hands were shaking at her side, tears welling up from too many emotions taking over, ��Pops….I wish you could see this.” 

The cube finally shrunk down to the palm of the bot's hand, giving his digit a little shock as he examined it a little. He then turned to (Y/n), “Message from Starfleet, Captain. Let’s get to it.” 

“He’s right.” Lennoxx stepped forward, “We stay here, we’re screwed with Megatron in the other hangar. Mission City is twenty two miles away. We’re gonna sneak that Cube out of here and we’re gonna hide it somewhere in the city.” 

“Good! Right.” It seemed like a miracle that Simmons was agreeing with them. I guess the cube being handled by the robot was enough for them. 

“But we cannot make a stand without the Air Force.” 

“This place must have some kind of radio link?!” Questioned the Captain, “Shortwave, CB?”

“Yes. Right, yes!” Simmons said, “in the Aline Archive, there’s an old Army radio console.” 

“Will it work?”

“Anything is possible!” the agent exclaimed, gesturing towards Bumblebee and where the cube once was mounted. “Did you see that?!” 

“Sir, you got to figure out some way to get the word out to them.” The soldier said, he turned towards (y/n) her face apprehensive, “are there any problems with my plan? You know these guys better than we do.” 

Everyone turned to the girl expectantly, and it left her stomach doing twists. For some odd reason she looked up at Bumblebee, maybe hoping for an answer of his own. The only thing she received was a soft whirr and a nod. It didn’t need words, she knew what he was trying to say. 

“ U-uh, so there’s only two problems-,” 

“ Two?” Epps asked, “to be honest I was expecting more.” 

(Y/n) laughed lightly trying to shake her nerves, “ Yeah well we don’t really have time to go in with a full hardcore plan right now. If we’re going into this we must understand the risks. First ,” she turned to the Captain and Simmons , “Be prepared to barricade the room for the radio, if I know anything about autobots and deceptions is that they can easily tap into satellites-that especially counts towards radios and internet. A decepticon might be sent loose in the facility to try to stop you.” 

“Jesus,” Sam whispers. 

“Second, about the cube being hidden in the city, I don't agree with it but we don’t have other options at the moment.” The girl huffed, “while on the radio with the men send out an emergency alert to order civilians to exit the city. War with cybertronians  is nothing compared to war between humans. Thousands of people will die in this city if we are not careful. Am I clear?” 

Everyone nodded, “ Good. That uh-was my peace.” 

Mikaela smirked, “there’s the girl I got the hots for in the back of the class.” The girl missed the way the black and yellow bot snapped his head in her direction before an optic roll seemed appropriate. 

To be honest now wasn't the time for emotions to flow. 

Sam refrained from making a face, “ Let’s move before Megatron decides to use our bodies for target practice.” 

“ He actually has done that with a soldier that betrayed him before-”

“ (Y/n) not now! ” 

“ Alright Sam, (Y/n) get in the car! ” Lennoxx ordered, “ Mr. Secretary! Get our birds in the air! When we get to the city, we’re gonna find a radio, and I’ll have Epps vector them in, okay? ” 

“Affirmative!” 

Sam ushered into the passenger side seat with (Y/n) in the driver. Mikeala took it upon herself to protect the cube in the back. Personally (Y/n) would’ve done the job herself but a soldier had already shoved her in the driver's seat before she could protest. Bumblebee drove the facility with the soldiers on the rims of his tires. The exit seemed so far with the short amount of time they were making it through. 

“ WARNING! NBE ONE CRYO-CONTAINMENT FAILING. ”

(Y/n)’s heart stopped, “ What the fuck did that just say?! ” 

“ Oh boy, ” Sam uttered, “ Better get ready to haul ass Bee! ” 

“ Haul ass?! He better drive like he got some sense! Cause I’ll be damned if I die at the hands of that terrorist you hear me! ” 

A rumble of the engine from Bumblebee could mean two things: a scoff or a boisterous laugh. Now wasn’t the time to figure out which was which. 

“Set a perimeter around the yellow vehicle!” Lennox shouted. 

For support (Y/n) gripped the steering wheel trying to focus on the autobot insignia on the horn rather than the loud screams bouncing off the concrete walls. They successfully excited the facility with support ,they still weren’t out of the woods yet. They needed to reach the city to hide the cube or possibly had it off to Optimus. And Mission City was a few miles from their grasp. 

“The cubes okay?” Sam asked Mikeala

“Yeah, it’s fine,” She said, adjusting it in the seat. 

“Put the seatbelt around it” (Y/n) said quickly, “the less it moves the better” 

Even though it was minutes it felt like ages before they got far enough to feel safe for a moment. Even safe enough to quietly talk amongst themselves as teens if they would never do it again. 

“And here I thought I was going to go shopping this weekend for graduation.” Mikeala sniffed, “I’m the first to graduate high school in my family. It’s a big achievement and I wanted to look good when showing my potential future kids.” 

“I was going to write a Harry Potter quote on my cap with our grad year.” (Y/n) laughed lightly. It was true, originally it was going to be Star Wars, but she decided that the many hormonal boys in their grade would’ve bashed her. A girl loving something ‘sacred’ to them didn't seem on their wish list. 

Sam chuckled lightly as well, “lemme guess, ‘RONALD WHEALSLY HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR!’” the scream almost seemed like perfection at the moment, 

They bursted out in laughter. The only real time they’ve laughed without stress behind it. Bumblebee even let out a little rumble. 

“No, it was ‘Whenever in doubt, go to the library’” The girl giggled. 

Mikeala smiled, “ It suits you.” It did, the library was attached to her family in more ways than one. It was her livelihood, almost like Banes Motorcycle shop was to her. “But honestly now you need to change it to ‘I saved the world I deserve more than this piece of paper.’” 

There was a moment of silence before it was abruptly cut through with a blade of a truck horn. Seeing the familiar vehicle made the girl smile in triumph, it seemed like things were turning around with the reunion. 

“There’s Optimus,” Sam announced.

The teens watched the autobot leader along with his team screech their tiers against the ground in a sharp turn before following them quickly behind. (Y/n) knew deep down the autobots we’re glad to see Bumblebee alright once more. Their scout had survived, although young, Bumblebee is a lot tougher than one could describe. But she had a feeling they knew that already, they had watched him come or of hard situations before right? 

It was another few miles before they heard it. Sirens. At first (Y/n) had thought their plan of getting in touch with the government worked pretty quickly, that was until she spotted the military truck and  behind it. It was a domino effect; two of the drivers surrounding them were taken out swiftly with the truck crashing and flipping them over. 

The girl could only sit in the seat and stare her eyes widening as she stared at the side mirror. Abruptly she was yanked back further in her seat by the seat belt and the windows were rolled up completely. 

“Are they-are they-“ she couldn’t finish. 

“No no no no no no,” Sam said, watching the rearview. 

“What?” Mikeala asked. 

“It’s the same cop!” Sam hissed, “the one that attacked me and (Y/n) before. Block ‘em, block em, block em, block em!” 

The military truck transformed first on the road, the ground shaking abruptly behind them as a fierce roar was let out from the decepticon. The enemy's enthusiasm was short lived as the autobot leader followed suit, making it his mission to be the defense as they continued forward. (Y/n) yanked a bit on the seat showing the scout she wished to see the action a bit more. 

A Prime in action wasn’t something you see everyday. 

A look in the side mirror led her heart to accelerate. The decepticon had skated purposefully into a civilian bus on the highway, the flames rode on the road watching fellow cars skid to a halt at the destruction the cybertronian had caused. Optimus unfortunately was a bit too late turning around, Sam let out a yelp as the autobot leader was tackled off of the skying road to the ones on the ground below. 

(Y/n) snapped off the seatbelt with a new rush of adrenaline and rushed to Sam's side of the vehicle to see the fight below. A car was just a sliver away from the fight and she could only pray that the civilians inside wouldn’t be harmed. Optimus was the first to throw a strong hook into the cons faceplate then taking them further down to another level of the roads. 

To see the Prime handle his adversary with determination and sheer strength was breathtaking. His sword’s protruding from his servos where nothing like she imagined. Were they hot or cold? They were a fiery yellow gradient to orange, and to see the damage they caused to the decepticon was chilling. The leader landed one final blow stabbing upwards through the enemies neck cabling, sparks flew everywhere before a snap sounded and the cons head rolled along the ground. 

“Wow…” a breath left the Afro hairs lips, “ And that was only one decepticon. What was it like when he invaded bases with only three comrades by his side.” 

Sam shook his head, “I dunno if I want to imagine that. Did you see what he just did?” 

“I am so glad we got in this car.” Mikeala whispered. 

A sliver of a memory of her grandfather warped in her mind. The comfort of his arms to the gentle peck on her forehead, “ Even Optimus gets scared,” 

“I wonder how scared he is right now.” (Y/n) thought carefully, “my hands are shaking with the whole world in our hands. Imagine thinking of his world and protecting ours as well. His home is lost and he’s protecting ours from the thing that can possibly give them another planet.” 

Sam and Mikeala both looked at each other, their eyes speaking for themselves without words. 

Exactly what did they get themselves into? And what will be the cost if either side wins? 

Upon arriving at Mission City, (Y/n)’s whole mood shifted. Uncertainty took over as she scanned the roads crowned by fleeing civilians and cars left along the roads. It was a reminder of how much was at stake. To think just staring at one road filled with people makes you think about the whole world; about classrooms, children, families, friends, even enemies. 

Cause at the end of the day if this doesn’t work. They’ll all be damned. 

The aircraft’s above reassured her that they indeed had taken her advice. Simmons and the others had made it out long enough to send a message out. Even though she didn’t like him-doesn't mean she can’t respect his bravery and service. 

Sam pulled his best friend out of the car along with Mikeala. The cube rested in the backseat making the girl nervous; to be honest she felt like it needed to be held at all times. She had a feeling that if she looked away long enough it would disappear and all their efforts would be for naught. Even with all the heavy duty surrounding them in the street she still felt too exposed. 

“Green smoke is the mark. Provide air cover and vector Black Hawks for extraction.” Epps ordered. 

A thunderous aircraft circled a building, flying recklessly to be there. (Y/n) broke off from Sam peering closely before it dawned on her. To think that there wasn’t going to be any hacking with the transmissions between other aircraft was foolish-and she even forgot about it for a moment- and she was the one who had warned them about it. Through her most recent books of studies there were only a few aircraft’s recorded decepticons. And only two really mattered. 

The Terrorist. And his Second Command. 

The tales she had heard about Starscream made her laugh and grow frustrated. To think that one of the most dangerous decepticons was a coward and the most brutal was very contradictory. One that really stuck with her was the battle he had with three scouts, apparently there was only one that was able to outsmart Starscream and escape. It had led the commander to grow more hostile to scouts and lower ranks of the autobot cause as a result. 

He had learned his lesson that ranks don't matter on the battlefield. Only wit and sheer determination. 

“Oh shit-” 

“It’s Starscream!” Ironhide announced transforming causing the other autobots to follow. The weapon’s specialist immediately started to get to work on a barrier for protection, “Backup! Take Cover! Bumblebee!” The scout was right behind him picking up a blue truck for a shield. The moment would’ve been something to marvel at however the expending screams ruined it. 

“No,no, no, no, no! Move!” Lennox ordered, he grabbed two other soldiers from their posts gesturing for others to follow suit. It was obvious the aircrafts were not going to be able to defend them against Starscream in time, and now that (Y/n) thought about it was probably for the best.  The fire back from the decepticon would have led to many plane crashes leaving more casualties in the city with the tall buildings. 

“Back up! Back up!” 

“Retreat! Fall back!” But it was futile; the tanks were already in position and all they could do was get out of them. The men stumbled over themselves to get away from the danger before them. Civilians being dragged along the way if they were hiding in nearby alleys and stores. 

(Y/n) grabbed both Mikaela and Sam ducking for cover. Her heart was racing, she made it halfway on the ground before she felt it, the hot sizzling explosion causing the ground to rumble and break before them.  They flew a few feet from impact, blinding them for a few moments. 

“Anybody hurt? Everyone in okay?” Lennox screamed. He helped Mikeala giving her a once over before turning to Sam, “Where’s (Y/n)?!”

The said girl was on her side by a gray vehicle turned upside down. She let out a small whimper before shifting on her back, accidentally hitting her head against metal. At first she thought it was debris from the explosion, possibly from the truck. Until her eyes focused from the fog, seeing the infamous black and yellow signature of a cybertronian ped. 

Only the thing is-it wasn’t attached to its owner. 

#transformers x reader #bumblebee x black reader #bumblebee x reader #bumblebee #transformers bayverse #transformers bumblebee #sam witwicky #mikeala banes #Youtube

[vilsoo]

୨⎯ CHAPTER TWO ⎯୧

incubus!fushiguro toji x fem!reader

꒰ ✟ ꒱ GENRE: horror, demon au, nsfw 18+, porn with plot.

꒰ ✟ ꒱ SUMMARY: Sex demons are not as provocative as you think they are. Not only do they engage in sexual acts with humans, they thrive off their flesh and haunt them in their nightmares. When an incubus disguised as a Reverend turns a hungry eye on one of the parishioners, gruesome events at the cathedral slowly unfold; blasphemy, gore, and terror…

꒰ ✟ ꒱ CHAPTER WARNINGS: blasphemy, WC: 2,396

PREVIOUS • MASTERLIST • NEXT CHAPTER

written in toji's pov, narration style similar to the Netflix show, "You." pov may also change in future chapters. this takes place in a fictional setting; St. Reze University & Cathedral.

"Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been a week since my last confession..."

Father Getou Suguru, the priest who ordained me as a clergy member and who I work for now, would sometimes put me in charge of confessionals whenever he’s busy. Obviously I hated it. Sitting in this mahogany booth, listening to the sins and confessions of these miserable penitents that don’t even matter to me. Sometimes out of boredom I'd feel tempted to manipulate them out of their faith, but I couldn't afford to lose my job. I had no choice.

This evening I was starting to feel a bit sluggish while confessionals were ongoing. Some were short, some were emotional, and some just didn't know what to say in the midst of nervousness or inexperience. I didn’t even have to say much except for making up their penance as I try not to fall asleep. But as I sat down and pondered while this young male penitent babbled to me, the memory of you on your knees before me during Eucharist… haunted me.

“…But this one nightmare I had a few days ago, Reverend— call me dramatic, I don’t care… but when I woke up, I woke up literally gasping for my life. I couldn’t stop thinking about it that I got so distracted in class. It disturbs me when I even think about it. What should I do?”

And suddenly a wave of clarity washed over me when the male’s unsettled voice blended with the flashback of us under the rain hours ago. It took awhile to register what he said, especially when he mentioned nightmares.

Across the decorative screen, I frowned and remained silent. It was a little frustrating taking my focus off of you and onto another concern. Perhaps this evening confession had slightly intrigued me, especially knowing the true, daunting origins of nightmares that have been ongoing. And not just any plain nightmare that adults get from stress or medications. Majority of people tend to forget those that come and go, but if they continue lurking within one’s mind for several weeks…

“Hm. You got insomnia or something, kid?” I inquired, deciding not to think too deep about this. Whatever the fuck I smoked earlier had me overthinking too much. I’m peeved about it.

“Um. I'm twenty two," the man demurred. "But, no… I don’t have insomnia, surprisingly.”

“Then don’t sweat it. Just know that you can expect spiritual nourishment in a religious campus like this," I assured sardonically. “But in case that doesn’t work… start booking your therapy sessions.”

“Therapy?” he marveled. “Wow. This is the first time a Reverend gave me a penance like that. I thought you were gonna suggest something, like, plain old prayer and scripture.”

“Churches are all full of narcissists like that, kid. Now end off with a prayer and go.”

The man thanks me and proceeds with his final prayers and blessings before leaving. I sat alone in the booth for what felt like more than five minutes, waiting for any penitent left to come in. I couldn’t sense any human presence roaming about the ambulatory and transepts nearby, which had me relieved. But just as I was about to open the door and make my way from my debased duties as a Reverend, I can hear someone scurrying towards the booth and entering inside.

I sighed exasperatingly and cursed under my breath, throwing my head back against the mahogany wall and sulked. Though it was strange that my heightened senses weren’t able to detect anyone outside the booth, I was feeling rather passive aggressive. Whoever this person was caught me off guard completely; it’s always been a bad habit of mine to put my pride first before anything.

“Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been two weeks since my last confession."

That voice. That silky, radiant honey and velvety voice— You. I decided to not speak and peered through the latticed opening into the opposite side of the dark wooden compartment and see that it was really you as the penitent. My penitent. An opportunity for me to see you plead for advice and dwell in your personal relationship with your god. My disinterest may or may not have been lifted after recognizing you…

“I confess that I have been distracted from my relationship with you,” you continued bashfully. “All of my time has been taken up by school, work, the people in my life… I even encountered someone that I couldn't stop thinking about the whole night."

I shifted in my seat, the wood slightly creaking as I crossed my legs and waited for you to elaborate. My heart felt heavy with anticipation, but I still remained silent. I could see you, but you couldn’t see me. I must admit, the way you’re indirectly speaking to me right now did bring a little amusement…

“He’s… he’s a Reverend for the church that I’ve never seen before. An older man with a gravely voice and a scar on the corner of his mouth. But there was something about him that makes me feel, I don’t know— bewitched, probably? Is that the right word? Well, I couldn’t focus during the Eucharist because of my… unwanted lust for him…”

After indulging in your confessions and finally hearing your lascivious truth, what you confessed to me seemed to bewitch me as well. And I felt a growing flame of rage from allowing this to happen to me, intoxicating my inhibitions like fire to gasoline, stinging me like push pins sliding into my skin. After our unexpected encounter tonight, all you could ever think about was me, just how all I could ever think about was you.

“I always come on Sundays. But this is my first time coming to the Saturday sermon, which means I might never see him again. I ask for your forgiveness of my sins, father. I also pray for your guidance to avoid whatever leads me to sinful thoughts and temptations like this. You are my god. I would never worship another being like you. In his name, my god, have mercy.”

You left the booth shortly after that, not giving me the chance to speak at all. Surprisingly that was the first confessional where I didn't have to respond to my penitent and only remained silent. Props to you for making my job easier.

But after hearing you beg to your god to avoid the sinful thoughts of lust and covet because of me… I've never felt so captivated over this. Over a human. You were the key to my dark little fairy tale that I'm so aching to taste. A chance for a lost little lamb to experience danger, corruption… and sin.

The way you’ve been provoking me tonight has me infuriated, I admit. My ongoing battle of cunning, dark, and sinister thoughts within my conscience, where I’d be tempted to corrupt these Catholic sheeps for my own satisfaction. Now I’m the corrupted one. I hate you for that. You're so ashamed to face sin, ashamed to face me. If I am your sin, then you're my impiety; I will forever have irreverence for your god without giving a damn. And what every demon like me caters to mortals, we fulfill them until they're dripping with sin and corruption.

When I left the booth and wandered down the nave, I sat on the front pew and grunted in exhaustion. I sat there for awhile, arching my neck back against the top edge like I was floating. Manspreading, my hands slid into my pockets then halted when I felt something. Your rosary.

I scrutinized it once again. Immediately my mind is cascaded by the thought of you during communion. You looked at me like I was no stranger, drinking the sight of me instead of that holy wine. A glimpse sublime, the most hypnotically sensual thing I’ve seen in this life. So ruthless of you to do. I find myself smitten by it when I play it in my mind, sanctifying me more than any holy concept in this church. I just couldn't get enough. I just couldn't stop replaying it in my head…

I glanced down at my slacks. When you looked at me drinking that wine on your knees… Oh, I was a man gone wild. Arousal had blossomed in my pelvis like an unwanted guest. My vivid imagination of you right there, right between my legs, kissing and worshiping me like how you kiss and worship the grace of your god. The never-ending eye contact. Bestowing that sweet mouth for my cock until I fuck into your throat…

Suddenly there was a noise. A noise that sent the synapses of my brain frozen, immediately taking my hand off my slacks and darting my head to the left. A strange echo reverberated through the stair tower. I held my breath and tried to make out another sound that would come from downstairs. Such eerie sounds don't really bother me, but it made me realize I wasn't the only one here at church late at night.

At first there was a hiss-like sound— like a giant serpent slithering, or the sharp growl of a feral beast. I couldn’t tell if it was my imagination fucking with me again, but such grotesque noise made me think someone's flesh was getting torn apart, followed by a prowling snarl.

There were faint screams, similar to the faint screams of the putrid souls back in Hell. But I couldn’t exactly tell because of the incense on the altar taking over my senses. My heart rate staggered and I could feel my lungs tightening from holding my breath. I was slightly perturbed, I admit. But just as I was about to stand up and investigate, a soft-spoken voice was suddenly heard from my right side.

“Toji?”

I averted to the opposite direction as if I was pulled back into a quieter reality, seeing a brunette woman in a habit. Her pale face emanated from the dark corners, approaching closer to the pew I sat at.

"Oh. It's you." The corner of my mouth stretched to a small smile as Sister Shoko Ieiri stood nearby, shoving the pearl rosary in my pockets. "What'cha doing here so late, hm?"

"I could ask you the same thing,” Shoko taunted. "I was closing the church and then I found you here. Were you on confessional duty?"

I nodded, letting her sit beside me and sighed out of exhaustion. Something shiny from her chest caught my eye— a hematite and aurora crystal bead rosary with a sterling silver pendant. It was much larger than the wooden rosary she would usually carry around. I watched as she weakly twisted it between her fingers, her expression growing melancholic.

"Everything alright?" I spoke low, trying my best to be sympathetic for the nun. She remained inanimate for awhile, like she was lost in her own complicated thoughts.

“Well, I’ve been getting less sleep..."

"Why's that?"

“…I’ve been feeling a little sick lately.” Sister Shoko rubbed her eyes and sniffled. “I’m gonna be locking the doors now, so you coming?”

This woman was obviously lying. However, I didn't really care that much to force her to open up to me. My intentions aren’t to get too involved with humans and their problems, especially with Shoko since she has a lot weighing down on her shoulders. As merciful as I can be, I followed her and waited as she locked the church doors outside.

"Want me to walk you to your car?" I ask.

Shoko hauled the keys off the doors to the narthex, slightly turning her face to me. “Uh, sure," she vacillated, smiling weakly. "I didn't take you as that kind of guy, honestly."

I pushed my shoulder off the walls and head down to the parking lot, my hands fidgeting with your rosary in my pocket. Then I kept thinking about what I've heard at the staircase tower near the cathedral’s balcony, glancing at every corner warily. The winds were small tonight, a tranquil stillness of the dark night surrounding us both while the beams of the moon shatter the sky.

"So. How are you and Sister Utahime?" I inquired, breaking the silence and my thoughts.

The brunette nun smiled down at the gravelly pavement, softly scoffing as a shade of red glowed at her cheeks. "Ah, you know. We're doing good. Thinking about moving in together next year."

"Oh. You could've brought her with you tonight, you know."

“I know," she pouted. "But she's usually asleep at this time and I didn't want to bother her. What about you, Fushiguro?"

"Hm?"

"Do you have any girl on your mind right now?" she simpered, pretending to act like some nosy high school girl. "C'mon, you sure look like you can pull anyone."

At first, I thought she was bluffing. "Nah," I replied, clutching the crucifix of your rosary chiseled firmly and sharp to my fingertips.

We finally reached her car, waiting as she fumbled with her keys to unlock it. "You sure?" she teased. "What about that girl I saw with you earlier today for the Eucharist?"

I deadpanned. "What girl?"

Shoko's shoulders dropped in disappointment. "Are you serious? The girl that drank from your wine! I've seen the way you looked at her."

I gazed into the sky as if I was pretending to remember. "Oh. Her," I spoke slowly. "I barely even know her, Shoko."

The brunette pulled her car door open. "Well, when I saw you two, it definitely looked like more than that."

"That’s insane. All she did was take the drink, what made you come up with that?” I say sardonically.

“Oh, don’t gaslight me, Fushiguro.” I wait as she stepped inside to the driver's seat and turned on the engine. "But, I thank you for keeping me company tonight.”

I smiled weakly, disregarding everything that she just speculated. “No problem. Have a goodnight.”

“You too, Toji.”

I close the door for her and watch as the nun drives away, left alone under the pale moonlight. I turn my head at the cathedral again for awhile, scanning the east stair tower outside. If the doors were unlocked and I had the motivation to investigate where that noise came from, I would've done so already. But I decided to drop it for now…

What am I to do with a stranger like you from now on?

TAGS: @suget @azanthys @haezen @heavenlyevil @saturniac @vampnyx @killzenin @diorsbrando @endurablerose @slut-manifesto @maxytx-blog @sugucidal

ALL WORKS BELONG TO VILSOO/POISEUNS © 2023. originally published April 10, 2021. do not steal, plagiarize, or translate without permission. do not repost or share any of my works where minors have access.

#ཐི♰ཋྀ ⋆ 𝐆𝐎𝐃’𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄. ๋࣭ 𖤐 #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro toji

[redheadspark]

Run

Summary: Jack thinks you'll run away after a nasty nightmare, you prove him wrong

Warnings: Angst and Fluff rolled into one

A/N: I wrote a small oneshot with our boy being so tender! I hope you like it!

You took the kettle off as soon as it started to whistle, placing the kettle to the cold burner on the side and then retrieving the two mugs that were prepped and ready with two tea bags.  Pouring one mug and then the next with pipping hot water, you set the kettle back on the stove to cool down as you took the two mugs and moved over to the bedroom door that was opened ajar.  The soft glow from the bedroom stained the hallways floor, giving you a very small silhouette of a being that was inside.  The shadow was hunched over, almost looking defeated before you could even go into the room.  Taking a small moment, you inhaled softly and made sure you looked calm for the person inside your bedroom.  Your eyes drifted over to your left arm,  seeing the evident of the traumatic event that happened an hour earlier.

A bandage, wrapped around from your wrist to your elbow. 

It started with a nightmare, not from you but from your partner and the love of your life: Jack Russell.  You knew about Jack and his private life.  it was one of the first things he confessed to you when you both first got together: How you life could be in the balance because of him and what he was capable of.  That was never in your mind, nor did it make your away from him since he figured you would run for the hills.  In fact, you stayed and loved him all the more, which made Jack open up to you ten fold.  Perhaps you were crazy in staying with him, maybe insane.  But you already knew deep down Jack’s soul and heart was beyond tender and sympathetic.  There was not one bad bone in his body, not in how he treated you and made you feel like the luckiest woman in the world.  But you also knew that being with Jack was not going to be like any other relationship you have been experienced in the past.  

Safety was his main priority with you, and he was beyond serious about it.

You poked your head into the bedroom, seeing Jack hunched over in the middle of the bed with the blanket over his shoulders and his hands nestled in his lap, almost like he was holding something invisible with care and softness.  His eyes were solemn, almost drained with bags under his orbs and his breath seemed labored and almost in pain as his shoulder were hunched and giving the assumption of defeat or grief.  

It broke your heart to see him like this, and you wanted to make all that pain and that agony that you knew was festering inside of him: it was not like him at all.  He made the room light up when you two were together, never once showing all that he had to endure when he was alone or with his lycanthropy.  That was left in the shadows when you two were together, yet no matter how hard he tried to suppress it, it would slip out every once in awhile.  The shift in his eyes, the small growl on his lips when a male was too close to you, and his quick reflexes tightened smell when you both were out and about.  You got used to those small moments, thinking of them as mundane and nothing too serious.  Yet tonight, Jack was torn from what he did.

Specifically, what he did to you.

“Baby?” You asked him, seeing him stay still on the bed as you walked into the bedroom, moving to sit in front of him on the bed and keeping your eyes on him the whole time.  Your voice was remaining low and soothing, making sure not to having him spooked since he seemed more heightened in that moment.  Jack still looked stiff, his eyes still in his lap with his own tangled fingers.  

“I made you some tea,” You explained soothingly, placing your own tea mug on the nightstand to cradle his mug in your palms, “It’s Early Grey and it’s very calming for the nerves,”

You moved to take one of his hands, moving it to place the mug against his palm.  Yet once his palm made contact with the mug, his eyes shifted instantly and his other hand moved within a fraction of a second, having you freeze up as his spare hand move up to touch the gauze and wrap on your arm.  Watching his fingers dance along the cloth wrap on our arm, you saw the shift in his stare, the way his eyes soften then.  Suddenly, you saw the glistening in his eyes and how they were getting wet.

“Hey,” You said urgently, seeing the tears fall from his eyes onto his cheeks, then down onto your bandage as he was still holding onto you as if you were going to fly away from him.  It made your panic, seeing him break down right in front of you over something in your mind was a complete accident, “Jack, it’s okay—“

“N-no,” He blubbered, more tears were hitting his cheeks and falling to the ground.  You could see it on his face, how he was inwardly breaking and punchier himself as he shook his head slowly and was gripping his mug a bit too tight, “I hurt you.”

That was far from the truth.

It was all from a nightmare he had. You woke up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and get a drink of water.  But you were only gone for a few minutes at the latest, so when you walked back into the bedroom you were shocked to see Jack curled up in a tight ball on the bed under the sheets.  Whimpering was heard from his lips, his hands were clutched so tight that it looked like he would break skin.  A thin sheet of sweat was on his face and arms, his eyes were shut tight in such a violent manner it looked painful.  This was scaring you, and you moved to place your glass of water on the bed and turn on one light on the nightstand to get a better look of his silhouette.

One minute you were trying to coax him and wake up carefully, the next minute he slashed your arm.

“You were having a nightmare,” You reminded Jack gently, moving to wipe his tears away with your thumb as his eyes were still cast down in defeat, “This was merely an accident and your nightmare was simply that: a nightmare.  I am okay,”

“I made you bleed,” he blubbered out from his lips, “I never wanted to—“

“Jack, look at me, baby,” you interrupted him, making him go instantly quiet and look at you with massive puppy dog eyes.  The sincerity in his eyes, the pain and anguish that you knew was not Jack at all was clearly seen and made you hold his hand even more.  

“I am okay,” You repeated, making sure those words were sinking into Jack as he was searching your eyes, “We all have nightmares, and I know yours can get the best of you at times.  But do you see me running from you right now?”

A moment of stillness was on the bed, Jack watching you now with the sadness out of his eyes and almost with a hint of shock from what you ask.  It seemed a bit blunt to question him, but you had to find a way to get your point across. Your relationship withJack seemed worth fighting for and worth the work: Jack had those walls around him so high up that it would seem impossible to have it be stripped and bare.  But you never saw it as a challenge, only as an opportunity to tear down those walls and see all of Jack.  There was more to Jack than his fears and woes, more than what he deemed to be a “curse”.  Every time you felt Jack was going to retreat from you, you held onto him tight and showed that you still loved him.

This was no different.

“No,” He replied, making you smile since his voice was no longer hurting or showing any sadness.  It was more of a realization.  You leaned into him a bit more as you moved to cup his face with both of your hands, making sure his eyes were right on you and you alone.

“The love we have is far deeper than a scratch, baby,” You explained, “I know what you are and what you are capable of.  The good will always outweigh the bad, to me it will.  I know you love me more than anything, and I love you just as much too.  Nothing will ever make me run from you, Jack.  Nothing, okay?”

It was as if he needed to hear it, the weight on his shoulders and near his neck was gone and his composure slumped. Jack melted into your hold, wrapping you in chi arms and hiding his face into your neck while you held him close to let him breathe.  All his life he had to be hesitant on who he would let in and who he could love.  You knew that, and yet you decided to say since you knew how much love he had to give.  So  being able to just let him hold you, keep you close after a nasty nightmare, it was enough for him to understand you loved him and care for him.  Time slipped by, you not realizing how long you both were sitting together in the middle of the bed before Jack finally pulled away.  You immediately reached over to get his mug and watch him take a few long drinks though the drink was now luke warm.

No matter how badly Jack was wanting to run, you were going to run after him.

The End.

Tagged: @heartofwritiing

#jack russell x reader #jack russell #jack russell x y/n #jack russell x you #jack russell x fem!reader #werewolf by night fanfiction #werewolf by night x reader #werewolf by night #marvel #marvel cinematic fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #mcu writing #mcu phase 4 #mcu fanfiction

[brendanbrissonwh0re2]

Tolerate it. (Luke Hughes)

based off the song tolerate it by Taylor Swift.

CW: reader is younger (18)

((( background: Luke and i had met when he first moved to jersey i ran into him at the grocery store... long story short that day started the worst relationship of my life.)))

I woke up to the worst nightmare i have ever had i took one look at luke and it made me relax waking up in the middle of the night and watching luke breathing with his eyes closed always helped me feel better, not many had known about our relationship luke has always told me that people might find it weird that were dating because im so much younger than him but i never cared about our age gape i know luke loves me. He's older than me so he knows more i wont tell anyone about our relationship plus he tells me the fans will hate on us.

((the next morning))

" good morning babe" i say to luke as im cooking egg's he doesn't respond just walks past me. "how was your sleep" i ask, once again no response...

" i gotta go do practice babe, do you mind cleaning up while im gone this place is in a mess" he says "yeah of course i can, have a good practice" "yeah ok" after luke leaves i spend hours cleaning the apartment just so i can please him. i was so excited for today because it was our 1 year anniversary, but he doesn't seem to care too much...

((6:00pm))

I started on dinner, i made luke favorite chicken pasta i used the fancy plates too.

By the time luke gets home it was about 6:30 i stand by the door waiting him " mm babe you made my favorite, but why did you use the fancy plates you know we only use those for special occasions" "luke you're joking right" i say, no way he forgot our anniversary "joking about what?" he responds "luke you forgot about our anniversary" i say in disbelief tears threaten to fall from my waterline "what no babe our anniversary is next month you've got it wrong somehow" " no i don't have it wrong, its today" i say "ok y/n chill no need to get upset just sit down and eat the food, our anniversary is next month,do you really think i would forget something so important" "you're right luke, so how was practice you came home quite late where were you?" “At practice?” He answered with an annoyed questioning tone “practice ran that late?” “YES Y/N PRACTICE RAN THAT LATE” he yells “ok” I respond quietly

After dinner

I was lying in bed while Luke was in the bathroom when I saw a text notification on his phone

From: Ava

Had a great time today ;)

As soon as I read that text my heart dropped

I heard Luke walk out of the bathroom and into his room I quickly throw down his phone with tears spilling out of my eyes. “Woah what’s wrong baby” Luke says with a look of fake concern on his face, “ YOU CHEATER” I yelled through tears. “IVE DONE EVERYTHING FOR YOU LUKE, I COOK FOR YOU, I CLEAN FOR YOU, AND YOU JUST TOLERATE IT” I fully start to cry “y/n what are you talking about, are you ok?” While he’s talking I put on his shoes and head to the front door. “No luke I’m not ok, every time I point out something wrong in our relationship you call me crazy, or say it’s all in my head but it’s not, I knew you were cheating on me” “baby no I’m not cheating on you, what would make you think that?” Luke responds “really Luke if you’re not cheating on me than who is Ava” as soon as I said her name Luke stops and stares at me, he knows he guilty, he knows I’ve caught him. “I’m done Luke” I sigh and open his apartment door to leave.

A/n: this is lowkey bad sry it’s been awhile since I’ve wrote something 😭

#luke hughes blurbs #luke hughes #new jersey devils

[bellaxgiornata]

Below the cut is an unedited and very rough excerpt from chapter one of yet another side project I'm currently working on. It is a Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader story where Reader can travel the multiverse and is being hunted because of that ability. It is tentatively titled Keep Coming Back to You. There's also a world of intelligent zombies Reader gets pulled into whenever she really panics which she calls Nightmare 1. In the story, she starts out meeting college Matt and Foggy but because of her ability and her need to hide, she obviously disappears often. So she eventually meets a slightly older Matt (season 1?) as time passes. And this story will be an angsty slowburn after some initial romance (all thanks to you Elektra).

This is a very, very rough concept I'm still working on which will also probably involve Doctor Strange at some point.  And I'm going to say it's 18+ for some smut (because we all know I write smut) and violence/gore (I mean...there's zombies). Just curious who is even interested before I invest too much time in this one.

Anyway, below the cut is a raw snippet from the middle of chapter one!

_________

"You can't hide forever, girl," they called out again. 

You tried to ignore them, your eyes searching for the thread that you had always felt a slight draw towards, though lately it was getting harder and harder to find through the multitudes of universes. Home–that thread meant Home to you. Or at least lately it had become something like Home. You figured you’d jump there and then quickly find somewhere else to jump to lose them for good for a while.

"The others couldn't hide from me either," they told you, their voice closer. 

Their words caused you to pause, momentarily distracted as the threads glittered before you, varying shades of colors and lights softly reflecting along your jeans. 

"You’re not the only one, Serena," they continued, smug satisfaction in their tone. "And I know that's not your real name, girl."

Your head snapped to your left. They were standing at the bottom of the playset’s slide now, staring right at you through the dark with a menacing smile. The teeth of the young man they were currently possessing flashed at you like a warning. A terrified shiver ran down your spine at the sight.

"I always get them eventually," they called up to you. "Just like I'll get you."

Ice cold fear shot its way through your veins. Before you could control it, something was tugging sharply at your body. That horrifyingly familiar feel of cold hands gripping your shoulders and yanking you forcefully backwards hit you hard. 

And then you were falling. 

Your stomach felt like it was flying up into your throat, your organs shifting and squeezing unpleasantly inside of you as you were pulled–the second worst possible thing that could have happened to you in that moment. 

Just as fast as it had started the sensation stopped. You landed hard on your knees along cracked pavement, wincing in pain at the rough drop. Your hands instinctively flew forward, scratching roughly along the broken cement as you tried to steady yourself on all fours. Panting hard, you looked up and surveyed your surroundings while hoping against all hope you weren’t where you thought you were. But your heart fell to the demolished road beside you the moment you took in the sight of the plant life overtaking the decrepit houses around you. Eyes closing, you tried to fight back the sting of tears.

Not here again. 

A fresh wave of panic rolled through you as you quickly and quietly rose to your feet. It had been awhile since you’d been to this world, but you remembered exactly what you needed to do. You needed to be silent. You needed to remain calm. And you needed to get the fuck out of here as fast as you possibly could. Before one of those things found you. You just needed a second to catch your breath and scan your surroundings to make sure you were safe and alone. Then you would find a safe universe and jump again.

That's it, you told yourself. Just calm down. I'll get out of here, I always do. Just need to stay calm.

You tried to take a steady breath, keeping your eyes open while you scanned the area around you. Carefully you expelled the breath as gently as you could, your eyes taking in the sight of the apocalyptic neighborhood. There was a gaping hole in the roof of the house just in front of you, the front door entirely missing. Both houses beside it had broken windows and ivy snaking its way up the front of them. The exterior paint had long since faded and the mailboxes out front were rusted and tipped to the side. But at least you didn't see any movement. As you observed your surroundings, you kept an ear out and listened to every single noise around you. For now, the soft whistle of wind through the copse of trees nearby was thankfully all you could hear. Everything else was quiet.

Good. Silence was good here. Silence met one of those things weren't about to jump out and try to savagely rip you to shreds and eat you like you were their last meal.

Or infect you.

Fuck, I hate this place.

Cautiously you made your way through the tall grass as it brushed against your jeans, the soft swish of it hitting your ears. The overcast light from the sun sneaking through the cloud cover overhead was a sharp contrast to the dark night you'd just been running through moments ago. 

Traveling through worlds was incredibly strange. It could be broad daylight in one place, but then you could jump and end up somewhere where it was pitch black seconds later. Same with the weather–it could be springtime somewhere, with birds chirping and flowers blooming, and then another moment you were landing in three feet of freezing cold snow in a pair of shorts. 

Your concept of time was entirely fucked at this point.

Moving on the front of your feet, you tried to make as little sound as possible as you walked. It was difficult to catch your breath, trying in vain to keep your labored breathing steady and quiet after that chase you’d barely escaped. You just wanted to get your back against something solid and search the threads for a universe that felt safe to jump to. That was your focus right now.

You moved slowly, careful to be as soundless as you could and grimacing at the stains of old blood you saw splattered along the panels of the house as you walked. You crept your way gradually around to the side of the house, glad that it was windowless. Very carefully you turned, stepping backwards until your back hit the wall. At least nothing could sneak up behind you while you worked now.

With a sharp exhale through your nose you tried to focus on the space before you yet again. Gradually the threads of multiple universes appeared, shimmering in the overcast light of the day. This time there was a rush of blues and purples that came forward. You squinted, reaching two fingers tentatively out and trying to get a feel for a few threads of light. 

Maybe you needed to find somewhere new. Somewhere that they wouldn't easily think to find you. But you hated finding new worlds. You never knew what you would be walking into every time you jumped. Though usually if you trusted your instincts you would end up in a world similar to your Home. Right now that's what you needed to find.

A noise came from not too far away, cutting through the silence. You froze instantly at the sound, your fingers holding onto a thread as your eyes darted to the side. And then the jarring, guttural, screeching noise that plagued your nightmares rang out through the trees nearby. The hair along your arms instantly rose, a prickling feeling growing at the base of your skull.

Your jaw clenched, your heart rate rising again. Time was up. You needed to get out of here now. You didn't need to encounter one of those again. You had nothing to fight it with and you sure as shit wouldn't manage to outrun it. 

As the terrifying, rasping growl cut through the air around you yet again, you knew exactly what that sound meant from the time you’d spent here before. It was searching, probably having caught onto the fresh scent of the blood on your scraped hands. But before you could pull the thread of light between your fingers and jump, it disappeared. All of the colorful lights before you suddenly vanished.

"Shit," you whispered. 

That loud, rasping roar reverberated through the air again and shot another spike of fear and adrenaline through you. 

It had gotten closer. 

As you turned, trying to remain calm, you prepared to hide in the house behind you. But that’s when you heard it. Something like a high-pitched shriek in response. There was a second one. And they were communicating with each other. You knew what that sound meant.

They knew something was here.

#excerpt #matt murdock x female reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock series

[inklessletter]

Faith, should I take a leap?

Eddie was no stranger to fear. He’s never been. He was raised on it, he drank it since he was born. Eddie wasn’t even a teenager when he had to hide under his bed, or in the closet, or in the kitchen cabinet, next to the filthy trash can, so the piece of shit that was his biological father wouldn’t beat the fuck out of him. He was way too young to feel lucky when he came back home way later than he should, in the hope of finding his dad passed out on the couch, drugs filling his system. He can’t really make out any childhood memory that isn’t somehow based on fear. Not at home. Not at school. Certainly not a birthday. Not in the brief time he spent in foster care. Not even when his uncle Wayne showed up to take him home. God, especially when Wayne came into his life. He was terrified when he claimed him. Wayne, all awkward and candid, and full of “it’s okay”s and “you’re safe now”s. Wayne, with his pats in the head, and one-armed hugs. Wayne, with his consistency in worrying about him eating enough greens and doing his homework everyday. Wayne and his weird, rare habit of not yelling at him, or spitting at him, or slapping him when he spilled his juice. Wayne, who definitely didn’t beat him, or held him by the neck against the mattress to haphazardly shave his curls calling him a queer, a faggot, when he saw him and his friend Mark Harvest holding hands at the age of fucking seven. 

It took awhile for Eddie to understand that “the lucky days”, as in those in which he wouldn’t get beaten, was his new normality. Wayne has saved him from that kind of brutal, dehumanizing fear that built Eddie, in a way. The kind of terror that he couldn’t hide from, or run away from, not really, not when his age was barely reaching double digits. He was starting to make peace with it, with trusting Wayne, falling asleep in the coziness of finding himself finally at home. Feeling safe, cradled, taken care of. Yet Eddie woke up that one night screaming from a nightmare. Wayne came to his room, to see Eddie making himself as small as he possibly could, in the furthest corner of the room.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, please, don’t hit me. Please, I didn’t mean to—” Eddie sobbed.

The pleas hung in his mouth as an echo of a past life, begging mercy to a hand that belonged to a man who first asked him if it was okay to touch him. A person who asked for permission. Like it mattered.

That night, Wayne taught him that fear might never go away, but he could fight it. He could armor up himself. He could find something that grounded him. He could run away, because when you’re in danger, there’s no shame in running. He could face it if he felt ready for it. He could ignore it. He could do a great number of things with it. 

“It gets to us all eventually. Fear, that is. We all fear something. And we all deal with it differently, but you’ll learn to face it and grow stronger. We all do, in the end. And it’s okay. It’s okay that you figure out the best way for you to face your fears, kid. This is a safe place for you to do it.”

So, he came back to the warmth of his bed, and let himself fall asleep with that thought in mind. He had a safe space to experiment how to face his demons. That night he really learnt what feeling lucky was like.

And he did just that. He came back to school and it wasn’t as frightening anymore. He’d come from an abusive home, and a school bully that was his own age was absolutely nothing. He built up. He taught himself how to look bigger, how to be louder, how to exist unapologetically. It took him years to perfect it. He dressed in dark, aggressive colors, sizes bigger, many layers, leather and cut off denim. He listened to loud, angry music, sung by loud, angry people that screamed loud enough to drown his terrors. He read fantasy, and adventures, and found it extremely exciting learning how different heroes and characters in his stories overcame his past, and his demons. Fuck living in crippling fear. Fuck hostile environments. Fuck buzzed hair, and black and blue skin, and being small. Fuck being silent. And most of all, fuck not feeling safe.

So when he was sixteen, he made his personal goal to create a safe spot, fear free. He’s gotten really good at detecting fear in people’s eyes. Like, really quickly. So there he was, founding a D&D club at school, retrieving lost souls with fearful eyes, giving them some space to create their own adventures, their own heroes, in which they projected their own tragedies to overcome, so they, themselves, could destroy them. So they could be bigger, grow stronger from their very own history. He could be that helping hand, he decided. He would guide them, he would listen carefully enough, he would learn about what decisions they usually made and throw monsters in their way that helped them to get out of that comfort zone, and face the danger. All in a safe space. A healthy one. He could do that. He knew how, he’d been there; he got out. He could help others find the way.

Fuck, he even found a way to provide (illegal) substances to help some fearful kids to get out of their own minds for awhile. Not that anyone would believe that his first intentions were honest, all loud and obnoxious that he was, all metal music, horns signs and ‘fuck the system, fuck the cops’. Not that anyone would believe that he really didn’t need the money, living in a trailer park in Forest Hills, not when he had a place to sleep and someone was actually filling the fridge. Not that anyone would actually believe him. Not that he cared, at this point. Not that anyone, in fact, asked. Business was good, and parties at Loch Nora were usually where he got most of his income, but there was in the middle of fucking Nowhere, Indiana, a hell lot of kids that bought weed from him because their minds were a scary place to be alone. Like, way too many underage kids asking for a way out to just be nobody’s problem. And there were at least twice as much pair of eyes looking the other fucking way. 

So, yeah. Eddie was no stranger to fear. Eddie knew that people dealt with fear in different ways. Eddie was fully aware that it made people raw, uncomfortable, wanting to run away, or towards it. But most of all, most of fucking all, Eddie fucking knew that you need a danger free environment to learn your ways. He knew what fear could do to people that felt unsafe. 

“They’re just scared, man”, Eddie said, low and breathy, shaky hand holding a half smoked cigarette. “I get it.”

Steve Harrington did not. Steve fucking Harrington did not get it. Not like Eddie. There was no fear in those hazel pupils of his. Which made absolutely no sense. Not with all Eddie knew those eyes had witnessed, not with every story that Dustin Henderson filled him in that involved Steve. Not with what he knew Steve had gone through.

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“It doesn’t.”

Steve let out a shaky breath, in the middle of the night, and took the cigarette from Eddie’s fingers to take a long drag. He looked into the void, brows furrowed at the top of the roof next to his bedroom. The sky was clear, the summer was approaching fast. He held the smoke in his lungs.

“I don’t know how you are so chill about it. Half this fucking town hunted you down, Munson.”

Eddie chuckled, tearing his gaze apart from the guy next to him, focusing on the blue eerie haze coming from Harrington's pool.

“The other half didn’t.”

There was silence, but Eddie couldn’t really measure how long neither of them spoke. Might have been two minutes, or thirty. Steve broke it first.

“I didn’t expect that you were the type to see the glass half full.”

“Did you expect things from me, Harrington?” Eddie teased.

“Yeah,” Steve replied, granting him a glance. “Shocks me to the core that you're a helpless optimist, though.”

“Why? Because I dress in black, and talk loud, and hate authorities? Or is it because I ran away when a minor fucking died in my living room? Is that it? Is it because I ran away, Harrington? Because I’m a coward? I’ve got news for you, Steve; that’s not expectation, that’s called prejudice.”

That earned him a look from Steve. And man, what a look. Eddie didn’t raise his voice, but from the way Steve was looking at him, dead in the eye, mouth hanging, he seemed pretty much offended. Eddie couldn’t foresee if he wanted to punch his face.

“That—That’s not it, Munson. Far from it.”

And with that, he looked away. If Eddie didn’t know better, he could say that Steve’s cheeks were growing darker, embarrassed, maybe.

“Then, why—”

“I can’t conceive that you’re so calm about it. How are you not freaking out? It’s just—” Steve cut himself, trying to find the words. His voice did a weird, wobbly thing that Eddie couldn’t identify. Eddie didn’t pressure him, waiting patiently so he could find the words he was desperately looking for to express himself. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and yet half Hawkins still give you those looks, and it’s fucking infuriating. Yeah. And you’re not—you’re not even angry, man. You’re not even mad about it. I’m mad about it. I’m fucking upset about it!”

Steve didn’t look at him while he spoke. He raised his tone a little bit at the end, and Eddie’s gut did something funny. He’s seen people get angry, and mad and upset at him, but he didn’t remember if someone has ever felt that way on his behalf. What a time to live in. 

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not, Eddie. It is not okay. Don’t say it is, don’t fucking dare to say it’s okay, man. Don’t fucking talk like you deserve this shit. Just—please. Please.”

And there it was, the missing fear in his eyes. Don’t fucking talk like you deserve this, he has said. Like you deserve this. Something clicked, and the knot that was forming in Eddie’s throat fell heavily to the pit of his stomach. 

“Harrington—”

“You don’t deserve this. It is not your fault. It is not.”

Steve still didn’t look straight at him, all brows furrowed, distant look and blue underlight. Steve didn’t look at him while his fear was showing through his voice, and probably, through his eyes, too. 

“I know that. I know it’s not my fault, and of course I’m angry. I just—I just can’t blame them, y’know? I can’t blame them for being scared. They fucking think I killed her, like I summoned a fucking demon to tear her apart. I’m not exactly thrilled either for being the object of their fear, but—I don’t know, man, it gets to us all. Fear, that is.”

Eddie parroted those very same words that Wayne told him that night all those years ago, probably because they got tattooed to his very soul as soon as he heard them. With this, Steve turned his gaze to Eddie, so straightforward, so piercing, that made Eddie feel a little bit lightheaded.

“Tell me ‘I don’t deserve this.’ I wanna hear it.” Steve lowered his voice, discarding the roach of the cigarette.

“Who the fuck would think they deserve a hell like this?”

“Please—”

“I don’t think I deserve it, okay? I don’t. I’m just saying that I get it. I know what fear does to people. That's all I’m sayin’. Jesus fucking Christ. Why would you think I’d agree to a fucking mob after my ass to burn me on a stake, huh? Who would—”

And he stopped. He stopped dead because now he could see the source of Steve’s fear. He could see now, in the gleam of his eyes what Steve was afraid of. 

“Steve, I’m not—I don’t think I deserve it. I really, really don’t, okay? Fuck, I need you to believe me when I say I’m not there. Absolutely not.”

“Okay.”

“Not even fucking close, okay, man? Oh, my god.”

Eddie felt a tingle creeping from the tips of his fingers, a thin coat of cold sweat damp his forehead. The air grew thin as he learned to read the fear in Steve’s eyes. As he understood.

“Why did you think I felt this way, Harrington? Why—fuck, Steve, why did you assume that?”

Eddie spoke softly, trying to swallow the thickness in his throat, trying for it to go to the pit of his stomach, as it happened before. 

“You weren’t expressing any emotions that I thought you’d show,” Steve said, almost apologetically. “You weren’t getting angry, or scared, or—”

“Loud, or obnoxious, or fighting the system. I see it now.” Eddie smiled, and Steve almost smiled, too. “So you became angry and scared for me?” Eddie’s voice was slim, barely audible. A tightness grew in his chest.

“I just—I didn’t want you to feel like this thing was some sort of karmic response, or any kind of cosmic atonement that you deserved. You—You just don’t. This situation, this is all fucked up. I just wanted you to understand it.”

“I know. I do.”

“Good. Cool.”

The question that Eddie was willing to ask was boiling in his mouth. He had a feeling that he didn’t want to really confirm. He didn’t really want to, because if what he was thinking was true, well, fuck him. That would break his fucking heart. It took him a full minute to speak again.

“Why?”

“Huh?”

“Why—Why were you afraid that I felt that way?”

Because I know how it feels, and it’s awful.

Because that goes along with deeply hating yourself.

Because I care about you.

None of the options that lied unspoken comforted Eddie. Not a single fucking one of them. Every one of them scared the shit out of Eddie’s guts. But Eddie, you see, Eddie was no stranger to fear. Eddie knew what fear could do to people. Eddie knew the many very ways someone could react to fear. And by the way Steve was keeping his mouth shut was a clear answer.

“It’s not your fault either. What happened to me, or what happened to you. You understand that, right?”

Steve snorted, still not looking at him. That sound might pass as the breaking of an hysterical laughter, but not a muscle in his face indicated that. Eddie noted that he was holding himself in the middle, and that his fingertips were white. Steve swallowed around nothing. He must have had that knot in his throat, too.

“I’m not sure about that.”

“Oh, come on, Steve. Give me a break. You don’t really think that a bunch of douchebags murderers paid by the fucking government for experimenting on kids that eventually tore an opening in time and space to another dimension was really your fault, do you?”

That earned Eddie something closer to a laugh, but Steve didn’t look apart from the pool.

“Not that, no. But—”

And he fell silent again. Under the blue lights of the pool, so still, not blinking, his face morphing into an unreadable expression, Steve seemed a statue. One of those that appeared in the Art History books, an old Greek god or something. All perfect locks and gorgeous factions and sad eyes fixed into the void. When Eddie realized that he was staring, he tore away his gaze. He wondered if Steve could see that his cheeks were getting darker, too.

“Do you know what happened to Barb?” Steve asked, mimicking the soft tone, still not looking at Eddie. “Have we—Have we told you what really happened?”

So, that was it. Eddie knew what he’d been told, though. She died in 1983, attacked by one of those creatures from the underworld. She was Nancy Wheeler’s best friend. A year or so after that it was told by the news that she was accidentally killed by a chemical leak. And that she died in Steve Harrington’s pool in a clandestine party. He only got to learn the mystical part a few months back, when Dustin told him briefly about it. Eddie nodded, quietly.

“Yeah. Kinda.”

“She was there, you know?” Steve pointed at the pool with his head. “I saw the picture that Jonathan took of her, and she was there alone, sitting in the pool, when she was attacked.”

“Hm.”

“I was in my room having sex with Nancy. Barb—she got hurt, Nancy told her to leave, but Barb stayed there, alone and bleeding. For Nance. And I was fucking Nancy Wheeler.”

Eddie looked over at the blue pool, and let Steve talk. His voice was tight.

“The worst part is that at that time Will was still missing, and I fucking slept after. Nancy went back home on her own. I didn’t even drive her back. Didn’t even fucking offered. That thing could’ve gotten her, too, and I was fucking asleep. How fucked up is that?” Steve stopped to visibly ease the knot in his throat, and by the force of his attempts, it must have been a killer one. Still, Eddie didn’t interrupt him, just let him space to find the words. “I didn’t even have the excuse of not knowing that something fucked up was going on in Hawkins, there was a middle schooler missing, and nobody knew fucking why.”

Steve tightened the grip in his own arms, and took a deep breath. Eddie looked at him for a bare second. His eyes were glassy, and his back was stiffened. 

“I have no excuse for that. I have no excuse for what I did after that. I was seventeen, I should’ve known better. I didn’t know what to do with—with that. With what I did, I mean. Nancy saw the bullshit I was, the shitty person I was, trying to ignore what happened. I tried so fucking hard, Eddie. So hard. For her. For Nancy. To—to cover up for what I did to her, to Barb. I couldn’t make it right. I couldn’t—I just—”

Eddie was no stranger to fear. Eddie could recognize it quickly and easily in other people’s eyes. Eddie could read the dormant terror, the trauma, in Steve’s voice, without even looking at him. Eddie could feel Steve’s knot in the throat, his voice growing thinner and shaky, the hard, white knuckles grip. Eddie was no stranger to Steve’s fear.

“Nance knew what to do with that feeling. She used it to give Barb’s family closure, to drag the government in the mud along with it. She’s so fucking smart. She knew what to do. She did it without me. Years later, and I still don’t know what to do with it. I still—I just don’t know, Eddie.

“Then the fucking Russians infiltrated in Hawkins and got us. They got us, me and Robin. They kept us for a few hours, they drugged us, they tortured us. I kept talking to protect Robin, and Dustin, and Erica. I just kept talking, keeping them busy, y’know? That was all I could do, buy some time. And there was this moment, this one moment, they hit me so hard I swear I couldn’t hear, or see anything for a full minute. And all I could think about was her. Barbara Holland. And I—I thought—I, fuck—I thought—”

“You thought you deserved it.”

Eddie’s voice was low and quiet. Eddie saw Steve’s hand travel to his own face. He heard Steve’s few deep breathings, letting it out slowly, calming himself the best he knew. Eddie lifted a hand, to comfort Steve, but he didn’t reach out. Not now, that Steve was all raw, and emotional, and vulnerable. Not now, that Eddie’s hand was also shaking. He put his hand in a closed fist in his own lap and took a deep breath as well.

When Steve talked again, he did it with a much calmer tone.

“I wanted to make sure that you didn’t feel that way. Not for one moment, not ever, because you did nothing wrong, Eddie. Absolutely nothing.”

“Well, I used to sell drugs to kids, but whatever.”

Eddie was unsure that dropping a joke would help the mood, but Steve laughed. He laughed. For a moment, but he did.

“Well, yeah. There’s that. You’re clearly no saint, no.”

Eddie smiled. Yeah, that was a good call. They fell into a comfortable silence that didn’t last. 

“You know, in all these past years I didn’t even step in my backyard if it wasn’t strictly necessary. After Barb died, I turned off the pool lights with no intention whatsoever of turning them on ever. My folks didn’t question it, they weren’t around that much, anyway. I don’t think they didn’t even notice.” Eddie looked at the very much alight pool. “After we got to learn that the Upside Down, where her body is, is stuck on 6th November 1983, I turned them on again. In that Hawkins, Barb was still alive that day. So I—I like to think that she’s still somehow alive, I don’t know, trapped in time, maybe? In a—a time loop? Like, stuck two days before where she was still hating my ass for going after her best friend. And I know that she’s gone, alright? For good, but—I—I turned the lights on. Just in case, you know?”

“In case they flicker?”

“Yeah. In case they flicker, and it’s her.”

The air in Eddie’s lungs got stuck under the heaviness of Steve’s words.

“You’re asking yourself to be haunted by Barb’s ghost, Steve?”

“I wouldn’t blame her.”

Fuck him. Fuck him for being so fucking damn familiar to fear. For reading too well in between lines. Fuck him for knowing beforehand that his heart was gonna be shattered. Fuck. Him.

“Hey, Steve,” Eddie spoke, fondness impregnating his tone. He took air, to tell him how nothing that happened was Steve’s fault; how he wished he could just talk him out of the guilt, shame, and regret he spent years perfecting; how he wished he could forgive himself because, yeah, he took some bad decisions, but he was just seventeen. But then Steve reacted at his own name, and redirected his gaze to Eddie’s eyes, and then again, Eddie saw a twinkle of fear, and a whole lot of rifts in his insides. The golden boy in front of him was absolutely cracked, and probably this was nothing he could share, not even with the Party, or Nancy. Probably with Robin, but, by how he was still slightly shaking, what he had just told Eddie, was probably the first time he said it out loud. So, under the expecting gaze of Steve Harrington, Eddie said, “thank you for telling me. It must have been scary. It was brave of you for putting it into words.”

Steve’s hazel eyes, under the blue light of the haunted pool, searched something in Eddie’s face. Eddie wanted to look away, he really wanted to, but he let him search whatever he was hoping to find. He let Steve study him, wondering if Steve would notice that he was definitely blushing.

“I think you’re brave, too.”

Steve’s statement was accompanied by a soft smile. Eddie gulped, and took a sharp breath. He smiled widely to shake away the sudden awkwardness.

“Look at us, the bravest men in Hawkins, Indiana. Not afraid of the apocalypse, not afraid of small-minded folks, not afraid of ghosts. What are you afraid of, Steve Harrington?”

The easy tone, suddenly loud and unnecessarily dramatic put an honest smile in Steve’s full—and fucking pretty—mouth. Eddie didn’t look long to Steve’s smile, but long enough to see it flake for a moment. A moment, when Eddie realized that Steve was, too, staring at his lips.

And see, Eddie was no stranger to fear. Eddie knew fear, and knew how to read it in other people’s eyes. And there was a trace of deep, everlasting, inherent fear behind Steve’s hazel pupils. Almost a trace of panic when he fixed his gaze again in Eddie’s dark eyes, after realizing that maybe, just maybe, he’d been staring at Eddie’s lips a couple seconds too long. Steve’s eyes, who dared to wordlessly answer Eddie’s question of what he was afraid of. Steve’s smile, that flaked until it was barely a smile anymore, gracing his face with the ghost of an unspoken truth. 

Yeah, Eddie knew Steve’s fear. It was the very same fear he felt after he laid on his mattress, seven years old, battered and bruised, his hair half buzzed, heavily breathing, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to hold another boy’s hand ever again. Feeling wrong, a big error of nature. Feeling terrified of ever meeting Mark Harvest’s eyes whenever they crossed paths. Yeah, that fucking, disgusting fear. 

He had so damn much to thank Wayne. That awkward conversation when Eddie was fifteen, the one that lasted no more than a minute, but it was all Eddie needed to know, that not in Wayne’s household was ever gonna take place any kind of hate for whomever he chose to love. It was that conversation that fueled him to, finally, at age sixteen, kiss a boy in that sweet summer camp in Indianapolis. It gave him strength to actually find a safe place, and meet people like him, and inform himself about safety and what was going on in the world for people like him, and going with Wayne to a clinic to get tested, and learn about his own preferences. He had indeed so fucking much to be thankful for.

But you see, Eddie knew fear, and he could read in the negative spaces of Steve’s family story, the constant absence of parents since he was thirteen, the loveless marriage and picture perfect nuclear family, money based, status based, that Steve Harrington had nothing close to a healthy, safe space to learn whatever he wanted to do with it. But Eddie, bless his soul, he knew fear. And Eddie had a soft spot for helping others to get rid of it. He could guide him out of that pit. Fuck, he could—

Eddie was no longer smiling. Neither was Steve. Eddie raised a tentative hand, slow and soft, toward Steve’s face. He tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, wordlessly asking for permission to touch, like it mattered, and Steve leaned into his touch, holding his breath, closing his eyes. And then Eddie learned about that other negative space of Steve Harrington, another thing never told, never spoken how damn touch starved that young man was, in that big, empty, lonely house for that long. By how he leaned into the warmth of Eddie’s touch, how he melted into it, how he closed his sparkling eyes with fear and curiosity. God, Eddie could help him, give him a way out, a chance to explore until he was no longer afraid. Eddie could help him feel safe to be him.

Eddie was no stranger to fear. He knew fear, fear was familiar, it has always been to Eddie. In the middle of the night, under a blue, pale, eerie pool light, and a clear sky full of stars, with their heart in their sleeves, his soul lost in Steve Harrington’s breathy, quiet moans in between kisses, his mind and his body fully given in to Steve’s hands in his hair, or his waist—or wherever it felt right for both at the moment—; even at that very moment, Eddie felt a new fear that didn’t surprised him. Not a bit. Because it was a logical fear, the one that got him reading his fate in Steve’s soft, wet lips, that he, sooner or later, was going to be broken hearted. It was reckless, borderline dangerous to get experimental and unattached with someone Eddie’s been having a crush on since high school.

But Eddie was no stranger to fear. He knew fear. He knew his odds in this weird, new situation. His mind a mile a minute, he knew that they should be having rather soon a conversation about what was really going on there. Eddie absolutely knew that maybe he shouldn’t be kissing Steve that night, not after all the vulnerability, and the secrets spilled out. Not after talking about bad decisions, and regrets, and dead girls’ ghosts a few feet away from them. Not until Eddie made sure that Steve felt confident, and safe with him. Not after Eddie made clear that he would never hurt him, that while Steve was good at protecting people, Eddie was really good at protecting hearts. Not until Steve knew that they could take care of each other. 

He knew that he would have to work rather sooner than later about what was going to happen to him whenever Steve decided to leave him when he’d had enough. But it was worth it if it helped Steve through this. Steve, who was growing confident with every kiss until leaving Eddie breathless; who needed, desperately, to feel safe, and cradled, and taken care of. Steve, who cut himself raw to explain Eddie why he didn’t want him to feel like he deserved everything bad. Steve, who totally missed the pool lights flickering for a second. 

So, yeah, Eddie was no stranger to fear. And the panic rising in his soul at the melting touch of Steve’s taste in his lips was absolutely no surprise. Because, you see, that was the first time in Eddie’s life that he thought that he could live in this fear, as long as it was in Steve Harrington’s arms. 

And that—that was really scary.

---

Hey, y'all. I am absolutely in love with these two. This is the first fic that I've ever fully written (or posted), so I'm kinda nervous, not gonna lie. Thank you very much for taking your time and reading this.

Tbh, I've been using Tumblr for awhile now as an espectator, so, yeah, if I do anything wrong, I'm sorry. I promise I'm doing my best. I'm still learning (do we ever stop learning?).

Also, English is not my native language, so, if you detect any mistakes, I'm sorry about that, too.

The link to ao3 of this fic is in the title.

Again, thanks a lot, and I hope you're having a wonderful day. See you around!

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #fanfic #ao3fic #ao3 #first fanfic #please be kind #kinda scared ngl #stranger things #fanfiction #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #survivor guilt #late night confessions #vulnerability

[writingstothevoid]

My submission for Star Sans Poly Week, day one: Flowers. The work will also included in the read more but I wanted to also add the ao3 link.

@starsanspolyweek

Dream had been around a long, long time. Even when discounting his centuries in stone, his age still reached well past a mortal lifespan. It was no surprise, then, that he sometimes found himself caught up in the past. It was better now than it had once been. Between his lovers, friends, and the years between now and then, it was easier to stay within the confines of the present.

Dream was, admittedly, extremely grateful for the development. Though there were many things about the present he didn’t fully comprehend, he couldn’t deny that he was happier now than he had (probably) ever been and his lapses in time were rarely pleasant.

Today, however, seemed to be an exception. Of course, it was not a flashback or memory, but still. No, today’s memory came during a routine trip to the Omega Timeline. He had stumbled upon a large farmer’s market and deigned to explore it to his leisure. Blue and Ink were both occupied and would not mind him being out later than expected; not to mention, he could use a bit of time to himself. Not that he didn’t love his partners dearly, but everyone needs alone time sometimes and he would revel in whatever he could get.

And it was there amongst stalls piled high with bread and soap and jewelry that he spotted it: an unassuming little thing with flowers of all different breeds and colors, manned by an older woman with a kind smile. He barely even registered what he was doing before he was in front of the lady, looking down at a card placed artfully on the table. Monica’s home-grown bouquets

Flowers for any and all occasions!

Ask attendant for historical meanings!

“Can I help you?” The voice brought Dream’s attention back to the present and he looked up, a bit flustered.

“Ah, no, I’m sorry, I was just looking,” He replied, hands affirming his disaffirmation. The woman – Monica? – smiled down at him, no malice apparent.

“No worries, love. Just let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

Dream looked back down at the card, then up to all the bouquets hanging haphazardly from the top of the tent. Historical meanings… he knew those, didn’t he? Or he had, at some point. They poked at his brain, filling it like smoke as he remembered the small nuances of the old society.

A single red rose for love, geraniums for sympathy, anemones for apologies. He was not certain about all (or really any of them) but he couldn’t help but feel they were right. Red was for romance, orange – enthusiasm, yellow – joy, white – purity.

“They make good gifts,” that same voice as before chimed in and Dream realized belatedly that he had been staring at a “lovers bouquet” of sorts. He flushed once more and started to stammer an apology before he finally processed what she had said. It had been awhile since he had gotten his partners something to show his gratitude, nor had they really been able to spend much time together the last few weeks outside of work and cohabitation.

“I quite like this one, although I could certainly help you find something more tailored,” she continued on as Dream finally came to a decision.

Blue stood in front of the spotless kitchen and freshly-set table, aching but proud of the work he had done that day. The last few weeks had been particularly busy for not only him but his lovers as well. They seemed to be constantly called out on missions to stop Nightmare’s Gang or Error or some other being that decided to reek havoc that day. With all the Negativity, Dream hadn’t been at his best and Ink was being dogged by the Creators more than usual meaning it was often just Dream and Blue against their opponents. It hadn’t been too bad, but it would not be a stretch to say that they were all well and truly exhausted. Today had been their first day off and each had chosen to take full advantage of it, Dream going into town, Ink locking himself in his room to paint, and Blue completing tasks around the house.

Many would say that doing chores didn’t truly count as relaxing (his brother, for example), but Blue felt a sense of calm in the menial chores that little could beat. Some music or an audiobook and he was good to zone out for the next several hours and reawaken to a cleaner house than when he started. Win, win!

Checking the clock once more, Blue decided it was high time he dragged his boyfriend out of his stupor for a little bit of dinner. He found him in the exact same position he had left him in hours earlier, albeit with a far more completed painting and even more art supplies scattered in a ritualistic circle around the artist.

“Ink,” Blue called out, keeping his voice just low enough to not startle the other while still being able to capture his attention. Well, in theory at least.

“Ink,” he called again and this time the little artist turned to look at him, blinking up at him like he had just woken up. Blue watched in real time as Ink recognized him and his face lit up, causing affection to bubble up through Blue’s soul.

“Blue!” he cried out, his voice scratchy from disuse. He attempted to stand but almost immediately fell over, his joints just as cranky as his voice at their stagnation. Blue lurched forwards to catch the guardian and helped him stand once more, holding him until his feet were steady at which point Ink immediately launched himself at his slightly taller boyfriend.

Blue laughed and hugged him back, loving his lover’s seemingly endless well of enthusiasm. He admitted it was something he certainly related to but Ink never seemed to be able to contain it and always reacted with as much emotion as he could muster. It was endearing to say the least and though his impulsivity was sometimes problematic it could also be, quite frankly, so damn adorable.

The artist pouted as Blue pushed him back just slightly but lit up once more at his next words. “Dinner’s ready,” the royal guard informed him. And just like that, Ink was gone, his footsteps surprisingly loud for such a small person. Blue followed behind with a small smile, closing the door to Ink’s workroom behind him. He knew how secretive the artist could be about his work and would never take advantage of the immense trust he showed in them by allowing them in there at all.

Ink sat already at the kitchen table, his feet and hands tapping against the floor and table respectively as he impatiently waited. Blue laughed again. “We have to wait for Dream, Ink.” Said artist attempted once more to pout but the excitement in seeing their other boyfriend again wiped out any genuine annoyance he could have.

Almost on cue, the door began to rattle as someone attempted to unlock the thing and enter. Ink shot up out of his seat and ran to greet Dream, only beaten by Blue because the royal guard had already been standing. Together they opened the door and were greeted with the sight of their boyfriend, his hands occupied with not just his keys but also two beautiful bouquets of flowers.

They all froze and a blush appeared on Dream’s skull as he shyly said hello. Ink was the first to shake himself out of his state and leaped up to drag the guardian into the house, leaving Blue to close the door behind them. The task took longer than it perhaps should have, likely because of Ink’s stubborn insistence on hugging the other as they moved.

“So,” Blue began, a smile (definitely not a smirk, no siree, he never smirked) stretching across his face. “What’s this all about?”

Dream flushed even further, detaching himself slightly from Ink in order to hold out one of the bouquets to Blue. “They’re for you,” he added quietly and handed the other one to Ink, whose eyelights had become a pair of pink and yellow stars. Blue blushed in spite of himself and gingerly took the offering, taking in the beauty of the thing.

“Those are anemone,” Dream was looking a little off to the side as he pointed at the largest flowers in the bunch, a couple of blue buds spread wide, unable to meet his lover’s eyes. “They are given as an affirmation of intelligence, love, and respect.”

He pointed to another, a beautiful cluster of pink, orange, and yellow petals. “These are lantana. They symbolize rigor, the determination to not only keep going but to do every task to the best of one’s ability.”

He drew closer to Blue who’s skull had begun to light up more and more. A quick glance up told him that Ink’s unusual silence came from his rapt attention set on the pair. It took a lot to hold his attention, even for a short stretch of time, and the thought that he was so invested did not help Blue’s condition.

“This is kalanchoe,” he rambled on as if afraid he wouldn’t be able to get it all out if he stopped now. “It means, um, everlasting love and symbolizes persistence and endurance.” Now they were both blushing like mad. How did Blue get so lucky as to have such an adorably sweet boyfriend?

Next were the red bits sticking out from the mess in the middle. “These are cardinals and they symbolize distinction from others. Like, um. A really amazing partner.”

Ink’s snicker could be heard from space but both of them were masters in the art of ignoring his teasing by now. Well, perhaps not masters, but certainly used to it. “Blue stars are related to strength and also cover persistence and endurance like the kalanchoe. They represent the strength of will of another.”

He smiled as he reached the last ones and finally met Blue’s eyes. “And these are bluebells. They’re given to show gratitude towards someone. Like the gratitude of being with you.”

“Oh, Dreamy,” Blue couldn’t help himself. He launched himself forwards and dragged his adorable boyfriend into the biggest hug he could. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love it!”

Dream laughed as he caught the other man and held onto him just as tight. “We haven’t been able to really hang out much lately and I wanted to give you guys something.”

A small weight barreled into them both and suddenly Ink’s shining face was grinning up at them. “Do me next!” The pair smiled at one another as Blue extracted himself from their embrace.

“I’ll grab a couple vases while you do that,” he promised and left for the kitchen. Dream turned his attention to their other boyfriend and his oldest friend. He backed up just enough to be able to point out each flower without leaving their embrace entirely.

“Well,” he began with a round red bloom, “These are dahlias. They stand for a lasting bond and lifelong commitment. It felt right given how long we’ve known one another.”

A unique orange outside with a bright blue interior. “These are birds of paradise, and symbolize paradise and freedom.” He decided not to elaborate on that one, not knowing if he could handle Ink’s adoring look growing any brighter.

A collection of small pink petals followed by similar blue ones. “Daphnes mean ‘I would not have you any other way’ while hydrangeas represent a deep understanding between people.”

Delicate pink flowers poked out from the center. “Almond flowers stand for hope.” And on to the last one. He took a breath and smiled at his lover as he grasped one of the long stems of a lightly budding plant. “And Acanthus. They can mean a lot of things but the one I like the most is artistic beauty. They’re said to inspire others and allow them to persevere and transform whatever it is they’ve doing. I got them not just because you do that for others, but also because you are that for me. You’ve inspired me to keep going for years and years and I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you dearly.”

Dream looked away from the bouquet and instead at Ink’s face only to find it filled with tears. Alarmed, he reached out but didn’t get far before he was unceremoniously handed the gift back while Ink ran towards a nearby bucket. Although he could very easily clean up the ink that came out anytime he felt too much, Dream and Blue had convinced him to at least throw it up in one container so it was easier to dispose of.

Despite how odd he knew it must look to outsiders, Dream shyly smiled as he followed the other, if only because he knew how much it must mean to Ink for him to react so intensely. “Are you all right, dear?”

It was only because of his years of experience with the artist that he was able to sense what was about to happen before it did. As such, he was just able to move the flowers off to the side before his arms were filled by his tiny feral boyfriend.

“Oh stars, Dreamboat, you’re the best, I love you so much, thank you!” his words were said so fast they were nigh incomprehensible to anyone other than those within the confines of their home. As it was, the guardian simply wrapped his arms around the other and hugged him back. “Of course. Anything for you.”

“If you two are done being gay in there, dinner’s ready!” Blue teased. The blush returned with a vengeance as Ink laughed, “Please, after this that’s impossible.”

“You two are impossible,” Dream shot back but still he made his way into the kitchen and added the Ink’s flowers to the vase next to Blue’s, that smile never leaving his face.

Several days later Dream was awoken to the sight of both his boyfriends standing over him in bed. Ink had called out to him – likely several times – and appeared smug in his ability to wake a man who slept like the whole world was out to get him. Which, to be fair, it had been at one point. The guardian groaned indulgently before glancing over at the clock. Nine in the morning. He had slept in late, unsurprising given how late they’d stayed out last night but still groan worthy, hence another indulgent groan leaving his mouth.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Ink shook him in blatant disregard to his woes. “We’ve got something for you~”

“Ink, quit it,” Blue scolded without any heat, turning to their sleepy boyfriend, “I’m sorry to wake you, but we do have something to give you.”

Suddenly more interested than he had been before, Dream let himself indulge one more time before sitting up and stretching (at which Ink let out an appreciative whistle and Blue delicately looked away). Smirking, he let his feet dangle off the bed and asked, “All right, what is it?”

His lovers looked uncharacteristically uncertain at the question and the smile slipped from his face in slight worry. He knew he would love whatever they gave him, but he hated to see them so uneasy. Words of reassurance caught in his throat, however, as Blue shyly held out the thing he had been hiding behind his back: a dazzling bouquet of flowers.

“We wanted to get you something for the other day,” Blue informed him hesitantly, his gaze still averted.

“We checked the meanings too!” Ink added, his gaze able to meet Dream’s but his skull still a delicate rainbow half hidden by his scarf.

Dream gently took the bouquet and looked it over. The other two sat down next to him, one on each side, and performed a reverse of the other day.

“Viburnum, for good luck, affection, and loyalty,” the young guardsman explained.

“Craspedia because you light up our world!” the protector continued.

“False indigo for protection.”

“Angelica to represent your guidance and inspiration.”

“Cyclamen for resilience, strength, and perseverance.”

“Lungwort, for joy, devotion, and admiration!”

“And…” Dream trailed off as he thumbed the last one left.

“And roses,” Blue grabbed his hand and smiled, “For love.”

On his other side, Ink leaned into him, “Cliche, we know. But it’s true!”

For once the pressure building inside Dream was one he didn’t mind and he hugged his bouquet tightly. “Thank you,” he whispered. Two skulls pressed against his cheeks at the same time and he buried his face into the beautiful flowers. Ink’s laugh was like little bells ringing and Blue’s voice was full of affection, “Of course.”

#ink sans #dream sans #swap sans #star sans poly #star sans poly week 2023 #utmv #your honor i love them #sorry if the writing aint my best #i just really wanted to post before today technically ended #and i may or may not have procrastinated despite planning for this event for months lol

[bad-author777]

BIG BULLY 3

Idk if this is too long or too short but I’ll play with the length a bit on other ones, btw this isn’t very edited past the first 3 or so paragraphs so Srry for grammer!

I heard him start to move. I was running out of time before he woke up. I bolted for one of the farthest corners of the bed that was almost completely covered with shadows. Perfect. And I made it just in time to hear a loud yawn come from the human above followed by the crashing of the bed caused by the giant human movement.

He was awake.

“April?” said the human. He had noticed I was gone. Shit. “April, where are you?” he asked, confused with sleep still lingering in his voice. I heard the bed creek and saw a giant foot set on the ground, then another. He stood up. “April! I know you're scared but please come out, I can't make sure you're safe if I can't see you!” he called only a bit above a whisper. He had started walking around and looking at things. Then he walked over and opened the door. My plan had worked! Once the door had closed and I could only faintly hear his footsteps, I slowly walked out from my hiding spot. I looked around the giant sized room, everything was so, so big. It was unnerving to be surrounded by things so big.

Where would I go? I couldn't go back to the school, he knew I was there. I definitely couldn't stay here, that wasn't even an option. I would have to find a whole new home, I didn't know how to find one. I had only ever relocated once and I had been really young then.

Flash back

************************************

It had been a normal day at my home in the walls, my mom and dad were getting ready to borrow while I was waiting at the house. Hated being stuck at home while my parents got to go out but I didn't want to break their trust so I agreed to stay home. I was an only child so I had gotten quite used to being lonely. It's not like my parents didn't love me, it was more like they didn't know how to show they loved me.

I had just finished saying good bye and they were out the door, well the hole in the wall we called a door but still. I had waited for around an hour when I started to get worried, it didn't usually take them this long to get supplies. I thought about going out and looking for them but that would cause problems if they came back to me not here. I wanted for around a day when I finally exempted it, they weren't coming back. I cried myself to sleep for days. I was only 8. I packed up all my things and the remainder of food that was left from before my parents disappeared, and put it all in one backpack. I then found a way out of the house i had lived in (or rather the house i had lived in the walls of) my whole life.

That's when I found the school. I had always thought school sounded fun. I had and still haven't ever met another borrower since. I'm surprised I didn't go crazy in all those years without talking to another person.

It had been 9 years since then and i still had nightmares about what could have happened to my parents on that one fateful night.i had gotten mostly used to it by now though and i had started to think about it less. It was still there haunting me in the back of my head.

End of flashback

**********************************

I must have been stuck in my own thoughts for awhile since i was pulled out of my trance by a giant foot lansing only a few inches from my small form. I let out a scream of pure horror. I had almost just died. This just proved the fact that i couldn't stay here. He could hurt me too easily even if it wasn't intentional. I ran for under the bed faster than i had ever run before. “April wait!” he called out as a hand reached for me. I dodged it and ran to the very back of the bed, the most shadowed part.

Noah's pov:

*****************************

‘I cant find her anywhere’ I thought to myself feeling defeated as I walked back to my room. Had she really been just a weird twisted dream? I opened my door and headed for my bed. I stopped in my tracks when i heard the tiniest terror filled scream. ‘April! But where was she?’ I looked down to see my foot inches away from her. I had almost stepped on her. I stared for a few seconds. ‘She was real! I hadn't just had a weird dream about tiny people. That would have been embarrassing.’ I snapped out of it at the same time she snapped out of her trance. I saw her run for under my bed before I could even react. “April! Wait!” I said as I reached out a hand to grab her before she was too far to reach. She dodged my hand and disappeared into the darkness.

At least I knew she was safe. Well if almost being killed by a giant foot is what you call safe that is. I got down on all fours and lowered myself onto my stomach to be closer to her level while also blocking her from running.

“April I'm so sorry. This is exactly what I meant about not being able to keep you safe when you're out of sight.” I said, sounding a bit desperate.

I looked into the shadows to try and spot April but all I saw was a glimpse of what looked like a small shadow moving around. “April….please come out. Haven't I proved I won't hurt you by now?” I asked, trying to coax her out of her hiding place. At first I was just staring into the darkness under my bed in complete silence when I heard a small voice start to speak, “no. humans can't be trusted. You are human.”she said, her voice filled with more rage than fear. “April please come out, you know theres no where you can run now.'' I said as I reached my hand under the bed. My shoulder was too wide for me to put it any deeper and I still couldn't reach her. ‘Why did I have to buy such a big bed?’ I thought as I tried to reach april. I understand she's scared but i have never actually hurt her, why is she still scared of me?

Aprils pov:

***************************

Why didn't he get it? If he were in my shoes he would be shaking in fear. Seeing his giant hand keep trying to reach me was a bit more than unnerving.

I shut my eyes tight and tried to ignore his pleas for me to come out. No way. Once I opened my eyes I saw that he wasn’t reaching for me or even on the ground anymore,he was standing up. I suddenly heard the loudest, worst and scariest sound I have ever heard. The sound of the legs of the bed being scraped across the floor. Was he moving the bed?! No! I looked up as the light illuminated my previously dark corner.

I used my hand to shield my eyes from the light. Suddenly a shadow was cast on me. I looked up to see he was reaching for me. I stood up and ran from one side of the bed to the other in seconds. Normally I wouldn’t be able to run this far this fast but the adrenaline made me much faster/stronger than i should be. He was still reaching for me but he had to push the bed more to be able to fit between it and the wall. I had reached the wall. I was cornered by him. His hand finally reached me and started to wrap its fingers around me when I, without thinking, bit him. Yes, I bit him. He moved his hand away in spires, I saw blood dripping from where I bit him. I didn't even know I could bite that hard. I took this opportunity to run between his legs and into the open space of his room.

I needed to get away. And fast.

“Oh, no you don't.” I heard him say with a slightly irritated voice. That scared me. I looked over my shoulder to see his hands were too close to dodge. I was trapped.

I looked at him one last time with teary eyes. They were a mix of sad and angry tears. As i was both desperately sad as i thought this would be my last living day i was also insanely mad at the world that put me in this situation and this boy who was doing nothing but make it worse. And scaring me to the point I was peralized. I shut my eyes tight, I refused to look the monster in the eye as I knew that's what he would want.

He lifted me to his eye level when I opened my eyes, but the only thing was blackness. I looked around but only saw blackness. Until I heard it. My mothers voice. I looked around but couldn't see her. “You failed us. You managed to break the one rule we had tried so hard to instill in you. Don't get caught.” I heard my mother say in a hatefull and disappointed tone. “N-no i-i didn't mean to! I promise!” I yelled out hoping my “mother” would hear me and not be so mad. “No this is all your fault. If you hadn't been so needy we wouldn't have died.” said my mom's voice, only it didn't seem like it was coming from someone outside but it came from inside my head. “April!” I heard the faint voice of someone calling my name but I ignored it.

“No mom! I didn't do anything!” i yelled through sobs, it was my fault. My fault they were gone. “April! What’s going on!?'' I heard this time slightly louder. I couldn't focus on anything other than all the hatfull things my mother had said in my mind. I was trapped in a prison of my own mind.

“APRIL!!” I heard someone yell. I flinched in surprise when I looked around to see the human standing with me in his hand. It had all been in my head. The words of my mother, the darkness, the feeling of guilt I felt for my parents disappearing had gotten the best of me. I must have looked insane.”w-what happened '' I looked around teary eyed. “You were running one minute and the minute my hand touched you you looked like you'd seen a ghost and weren’t responding with anything but sobs and sorrys” he replied sounding genuinely concerned. “Are you ok? What was that?” he asked but i didn't have an answer.’ No. i was not ok i was in the hands of someone who could kill me with a flick of his finger.’ is what i wanted to say but i really didn't want to have to deal with a mad human, they were bad enough just annoyed. I just looked away from him and decided to accept it, I was never getting out of here.

I kept my head turned away from the human, I couldn't,no I wouldn't look him in the eye. Suddenly out of the corner of my eye I saw his finger coming, I tried to scoot away but was met with a wall of fingers. I shut my eyes tightly and felt the tip of his finger start to move my head to face him, “april, i'm sorry you're scared but please… look at me.” he said as i tried but failed to pull my head away. Even though I was facing him I still kept my eyes tightly shut. “Well I guess we're doing this the hard way,” he said with mischief lining his voice,’ what is he planning?’ I was a little scared I had pushed his limits. Then I felt it, his fingers were poking my stomach. Not this again. My eyes shot open when a laugh erupted from my throat.

I was met with a proud look from the human, I really needed to learn his name. I started pushing his fingers away but he just kept tickling. I tried but failed to hold in a laugh. “Not this time.” he said looking in my eyes, he was enjoying this. I sent him a death glare. If glares could kill he would be long gone by now. “Don't get grumpy with me, you're the one who bit me!” he said laughing himself.

“Aren't you the one who literally moved a bed just to reach me when I obviously didn't want to come out?” I asked with a bit of sass in my voice. “Point taken.” he said stopping with the tickles. God i felt like such a child. I was being tickled by a human and i was powerless to stop it.

“Well I think I know what will cheer you up.” he said, sounding happy, too happy. I gave him a suspicious look. He brought me over to his chest and dropped me into his shirt pocket. “Hey!” i yelled trying to get out of the pocket. I was me with a finger pushing me back down to the depths of the pocket. “I need two hands, and i cant trust you to not run.” he said with a mocking ‘i had no other choice’ tone. Ugh i'm not a kid who needs to be watched at all times! Im seventeen for gods sake! He shrugged his shoulders and started to walk.

[danganronpa-21]

Can you please do a execution for Shuichi where he goes out on finding stray pets, but only for every animal to viciously attack him and even try to eat his own flesh off, but it ends with him being eaten by a alligator?

Surprise! I'm so, so sorry that this took so long. I can only hope that you are still looking forward to this. Even if you’ve moved on, I hope you can still enjoy some semblance of this.This one turned out pretty long, about 15 pages. It's chock full of warnings like graphic violence, suicidal ideation, and vomiting. Please be careful as you go on reading.

Fingers crossed that this work was worth the wait!

________________________________________________________________

Shuichi had been found guilty.

If it weren’t for Kaede’s piercing cries of refusal, he might not have believed as much. But the palms of his hands were disgustingly sweaty, and his heart thundered in his chest like it was fighting to get out. God. It had happened. He’d… he’d actually been caught. Some detective he cracked up to be, he thought resentfully, cursing himself for not having been more careful. What happened was an accident — already enough proof that he should have taken more care in planning out how he was going to hide it. But now Kaede managed to put together every piece of the truth, and though he blathered on and on with explanations as to why he killed Tsumugi, he knew little could be done now. Monokuma passed his judgement. His time on earth ran thin, like the last bit of sand slowly trickling down to the bottom of an hourglass. Just slowly falling away, right up until nothing remained.

He wished his death could be that gentle, but he didn’t want to be taken for a fool. He knew Monokuma held other plans in those mechanical paws of his. Everything wouldn’t be spiraling out of control otherwise, with only the shouting of his killing school classmates to break through the internal chaos of his mind.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

How heartbreaking it was for him to hear that sound one last time. The thundering of his own heart in his ears. He had lived his whole life hearing that sound. It came with his natural anxiety. For most of his life, it had been a sign of danger, a sign to run. In a way, he supposed he could argue that it was the same now, but… it would be foolish not to acknowledge it as the last sign of life. The last he’d show before the execution whisked him away into horrible, desolate nothingness. With nothing left to do, Shuichi closed his eyes, and started to pray.

______________________________________________________________________________

Shuichi’s eyelids peeled open, and in all honesty, he half expected to wake up in his bed at the Gifted Inmates Academy. It wouldn’t be the first time such a nightmare took hold of him, after all. The assumption that he might have the luxury of waking up in his own bed wasn’t so hard to grasp, and yet… Yet with one blink, he knew that happening would be far too good to be true.

Though his vision had blurred from his lack of consciousness, with a couple of blinks he could get a sense of where he was… At least, where he thought he was. Recalling what happened in what seemed like only a few minutes prior, with all of his classmates around him shouting and begging Monokuma not to do it, he knew he couldn’t really be out in the world like that. The scene that unfolded before his tired eyes could be nothing more than mere illusion, and yet there was a part of him that prayed it could be true.

He drew in a deep breath. In came the scent of rain through his nose as he stood there, waiting. Though his gaze could reveal little with his hazy grasp on reality, all of the right shapes were there. It had been awhile since he last saw a world as authentic as this. If his situation were any less dire, he might have smiled at the sight. The little brick houses lined up in neat little rows, and the white picket fences that stretched around them, concealing flower beds and seas of green and pink trees. Cloudy sky spanned above him, and though he could smell the incoming precipitation, he found a part of him that wanted to stand out there in the rain – to draw in that fresh spring breeze and relish it with everything he had, because he knew there was nothing more to this than Monokuma’s fabrication. He knew that these would be something of his final moments, and that this would soon be twisted into a torturous experience… Still, could anyone blame him for wanting to enjoy this one moment of pure peace, before his  world went to shit?

He closed his eyes once again, taking another set of deep breaths. Sweat slicked his palms. God, he wished there was a way out of this. Death breathed down his neck to make every hair stand on end. If there was a grim reaper, the certainty of his being right behind Shuichi swept him away. No matter what he said, no matter what he desired, this was it. Death would come for him. This is what he got for killing Tsumugi.

His hands curled into fists. He just wanted to help his classmates. That’s all he wanted. To just… be useful for once. To not be a failure and an embarrassment for once in his life. Yet even that came as too heavy of a request for fate to fill. He supposed it was just as well. Dying would be the biggest grace he could give his classmates. At least now, they wouldn’t be burdened by his presence. Now, no one would be.

“Shuichi Saihara has been found guilty! Now beginning… Execution: Chomp Chomp Carnage.”

No. No. No. Words were forming on his lips, the same ones he’d been thinking since Kaede sniffed him out. Please, no. Just as his vision started to come to, he found it started to blur once more, now lost to the tears hanging onto his lashes. All he wanted to do was close his eyes, let this whole thing be a dream. 

End it quickly, he begged Monokuma. End it quickly so that the others won’t see me like this. End it quickly so that I won’t hurt. I extended that same grace to Tsumugi. Please, no pain, just let it end quickly.

Cotton-tongued, he couldn’t find it within himself to do anything but shut his eyes, waiting for the world to melt away. At this point, nobody could dare to tell him that death wasn’t lurking around the corner. Would it be pathetic of him to just decide to wait for it? No matter what he said, what he did, it was going to come. So why not stand there and brace himself for its arrival? He didn’t want to fight. He was… so tired. Everything was so tired. Limbs hanging from his body like they held the world’s weight, lids so exhausted by the sights he’d seen that he wanted to close them permanently. What was the point of all this anyway? What was there for him to be afraid of? Just let it come. Just let it come.

Be at peace, he commanded himself. Do not flinch in the face of adversity. This is what you deserve. This is Tsumugi’s revenge. So just be at peace, Shuichi, knowing that you’re getting what’s coming to you and that there’s nothing that you, or anyone can do to stop it. Be at peace and stop thinking about the feeling of your heart and the tears on your lashes and the look on Kaede’s face and whether or not your uncle will miss you when you’re gone. Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.

A sob tore its way through his throat before he could stop it, his eyelids peeling themselves open if only to remind him of how blurry the world around him looked. Somewhere in the pit of his stomach a scream brewed, yet he loathed to let it out. What would it accomplish? Simply put, it was just the first way he would tell Monokuma that he won. Nothing more, nothing less. So he held it in. He held it in and swiped at his eyes, unwilling to be any more of a loser in this situation than he already was. Monokuma would take everything else out from under him. The least he could do was attempt to preserve his own dignity.

Quick breaths now, Shuichi, he reminded himself. Where he would go next, he didn’t know. All that he knew was that even through the tears, he could see something in the distance. Something small, and… and bright, laying on the ground. In a way, it looked sort of square, and took on the colour of scarlet. Could he even find the strength to go over there and check it out? His legs were like tether poles, driven into the ground by his fear. Moving one foot in front of the other as tears rolled down his face seemed damn near impossible, but… It wasn’t as if there could be any more loss for him to experience. There were worse things than those gentle steps he took forward. Just one foot in front of the other, a few paces until he stopped upon the red square. Or, to be more precise, a red envelope.

“A red envelope sitting in the street…” The situation would only become more melancholic the more he spoke to himself, but he found it didn’t matter. By all means, this was an execution. It wasn’t as if he was going to feel embraced by company any time soon. “I guess this must be for me.”

With a heavy sigh, Shuichi wasted no time plucking the envelope off the street, trying not to think about how soft the paper seemed in his hands. Would this be the last time he ever touched it? Hard to say, yet if it were, he wanted to savour it. Slowly he slid his finger through the envelope, tearing it open to reveal the note inside. What a surprise it was for him to be met with a sheet of snow white paper, and an even greater one for him to find a note written upon it. If he were to be honest, he half-expected the paper to be blank, like some sort of cruel joke the mastermind played on him to make him despair even further. He knew that would be the goal, after all. Despair before death.

But this… this seemed too simple. Here he was, thinking that this red envelope would begin his symphony of torture and screams of pain, but all it did was reveal to him a letter. Actually, whether or not it could be classified as a letter was a debatable topic. When he traced the phrases with his eyes, they all seemed to go back to the same root idea: three lost pets lost in the streets of this neighbourhood. Whoever left this red envelope out on the road wanted Shuichi to find them.

“There are three lost animals in total, all of varying species…” Shuichi didn’t even have to think; the letter’s contents fell from his lips with no consideration, “Sanguis the guinea pig, Imfa the cat, and Alavida the alligator… Strange names.”

Strange felt like an understatement. Now, Shuichi wasn’t exactly well-versed in languages, but from what he knew, these animals had some pretty weird names. Or, at least they were weird for Japan. They all sounded pretty foreign… Surely, Monokuma must have put this envelope here to play at something. Probably whatever brand of death would claim Shuichi.

It seemed obvious now that the envelope would inherently be  a trap. Nothing could be too simple for Monokuma and the mastermind. Sometimes the simplest techniques could be the most effective, or so they said. Shuichi was never certain how much he believed in that, but it wasn’t like he was in any position to question it. Really, he figured he wasn’t in much of a position to be questioning anything anymore.

The boy did little more than sigh as he slipped the note into the pocket of his uniform. Whatever kind of job this was, he felt confident that it would be more challenging than any of the others he’d faced. Whether it was puzzles or pain, the mastermind never liked to skimp out on the details. Surely, surely… This would be a painful experience. Long and hard and wrought with suffering. But it would be his, and when he caught that first glimpse of fur, his immediate thought wasn’t “hide from it”; it was “run to it”.

All he saw was a small flash. A whisper in the wind, but one he found himself stumbling towards nonetheless. Even from the brief glimpse out of the corner of the eye, he could tell it was too small to be a dog or a cat… and much, much too fluffy to be an alligator… Not that they were particularly small, either. All he caught was a tuft of jet-black fur in the green grass, and he knew that in spite of everything, he’d probably found something. In all fairness, anyone who’d had extended contact with a guinea pig would know that they loved to munch on grass.

Anyone who had extended contact with a guinea pig in the past would also know that training for a guinea pig could be… limited. It all depended on how malleable Sanguis was, but there wasn’t any information in the note aside from the name. He didn’t know its favourite treats, if it knew any tricks, if it would run away when approached. He couldn’t even be sure that the little black tuft was Sanguis. It wasn’t as if the letter contained a description, so his options in terms of the pig were pretty limited. When all else failed, though, he found himself leaning back into a classic tactic: mimicking its sound.

If there was one thing he recalled best about his experiences with guinea pigs, it was that they had a distinct cry. The technical term for it was apparently wheeking, but it was always more of a bweep bweep sound. While his voice was too low to properly mimic the sound, he felt certain that the action would at least grant him the rodent’s attention. At the very least, it could register the sound of his voice as a danger signal. Something to listen more closely to, given that he was so far from the creature already.

He wheeked softly at first. If he started out too strong, he risked the creature scampering off before he’d had the opportunity to convince it. Chasing after a rogue guinea pig was about the last thing he needed right now, given that this was still an execution and he was well aware that he was set to die anyway. Creating trouble with Sanguis would only make his last moments all the more difficult. So he started out carefully, each of his steps towards the creature as gentle as he could make them. He fixed his gaze on Sanguis as best he could. If Sanguis decided to run, Shuichi would need to know of this decision the second it happened. He was lifting his head now, his tiny nose twitching in the air as his blood red eyes stared at what lay before him. His small ears seemed to twitch at the sound of his predator’s voice, mimicking his own cries. Still, Shuichi couldn’t help but notice that while Sanguis listened, he did not answer. Whether or not that could be considered a good thing, he didn’t know. All he knew came down to the fact that Sanguis appeared to be letting him inch closer.

Every breath came out shaky. He feared the slightest change in his demeanour might make the rodent scamper off, so it forced him to be particular about the way he held himself. His stomach held tight, his steps soft and slow as he moved from pavement to the grass, all of it done while eyeing Sanguis. The creature’s nose did little in response other than offer a slight twitch. He wished silently that he had some sort of food on him. That would make it a lot easier to make the guinea pig want to come to him. They always did respond well to food, if he remembered anything from his previous experiences finding them. Still, the reaction he received so far had been pretty good. Sanguis didn’t show too many signs of running. Shuichi could feel his confidence climbing ever so subtly with every step forward, brushing his hands against the grass.

Maybe I should grab a fistful of grass, he thought to himself. It was true that he didn’t have any food to attract Sanguis with, but the grass was just as edible and would probably work just as well. What else could he do but take a fistful of the grass into his hand? He tore it out with enthusiasm, forgetting for only a second that he was in his final moments.

Sanguis watched his actions intently. Those wide irises of his eyed the grass in Shuichi’s fist; if he were human, Shuichi felt certain he would have licked his lips. If he were in a better mood, he supposed he could have laughed at the way Sanguis came plodding over when he extended his hand. The guinea pig’s little whiskers tickled his hand as he came sniffing over, looking to grab at the greenery in Shuichi’s palm. Had he been in less of a state of panic, he might have giggled. He always liked guinea pigs. Their cute little twitching noses and large black pupils made for funny little creatures indeed. In the back of his mind, he knew he should be careful about getting too trusting, but for a moment he let that slip.

He would pay for that moment.

After a few seconds of letting Sanguis sniff his hand, the creature forewent the grass entirely. He ended up deciding that it would be the best course of action to sink his sharp teeth into Shuichi’s palm. Yelping in pain, he tried to draw his hand back, but the grip on him was harsher than expected. He more so ended up pulling the pig forward rather than actually pulling his hand away. One hand reached for the next in a pathetic bid to pry Sanguis off, but the movements were enough to startle the creature and forced it to release. Sanguis tumbled down his lap, and as he stared at his palm, he noticed droplets of blood beginning to form around the broken skin. Worry pricked at him as he watched Sanguis tumble down his lap. As Sanguis landed on his belly in the grass, his uninjured hand moved reflexively to touch him in comfort. Before skin could meet fur, however, Sanguis let out the sharpest and angriest wheek Shuichi had ever heard. With a craning of his neck to look at his victim with a wild glint in his eye, something so tiny had never looked so scary.

“You’re some kind of like… rabies-pig, aren’t you?” Shuichi muttered, staring down at the wound on his hand. “You’ve been genetically modified or something.”

Sanguis once again wheeked loudly in response, practically baring his teeth at Shuichi before turning forward and scampering through the grass as fast as his little legs could manage. There was a part of him that thought perhaps he should have followed, but the stinging wet pain of his injury reminded him why he parted from Sanguis in the first place. 

This did not spell anything good for the rest of his search. Not that he was expecting much, given this was an execution and all, but a small piece of him had hoped for at least a bit of a dignified death. Though it wasn’t Monokuma’s style, the thought of a lighter death was perhaps the only thing pushing him through this execution. After all, if he wasn’t able to save his friends by killing Tsumugi, the least he would want for them is to have to watch them suffer – especially since the word “betrayal” had been whispered more than a few times during the trial. 

Plucking the leaf from a nearby weed, he wrapped it around his hand in a vain attempt to soak up the blood. Guinea pig bites were painful, but not typically harsh, so he figured he would be okay if he really was a normal guinea pig. If he wasn’t, though, then he supposed he would start to feel those drugs or virus symptoms any minute now. As he pressed the leaf against it, watching emerald turn to carmine, he couldn’t help but sigh. What must the others be thinking right now? With shaky legs, he rose to his feet. 

Thinking of the others provided a welcome distraction from the bite, even if it was just a cheap ploy to get his mind to favour one type of pain over the other. Nonetheless, it was something, and with the racing thoughts overtaking him as he wandered forward, it was all he could rely on. 

Maki was probably frowning as she watched him on screen, watching him fight through the execution. “This has to be the slowest execution I’ve ever seen,” he imagined her saying, and the folded arms that came along with it would betray that it wasn’t her wasted time that she was complaining about. Kaito, he thought, would probably nod in agreement. He wouldn’t have much to say in reply. The words would catch in his throat – a situation that was beyond unusual for the Super High School Level Astronaut. 

Angie, he decided, would probably pray. Clasped hands and closed eyes, she would pray to her god for his soul to find peace in the world beyond. Some of the others might join her in that prayer. He wasn’t sure whether or not they would pick different gods. Maybe his incoming demise would bring a sense of unity, or maybe the variation would bring him better chances. Regardless, he liked to think that they might.

As his feet carried him onward, roaming through the phony peachy street, he did all that he could to not think of Kaede. Perhaps it was cruel, but he wished for her to shed at least a few tears at his demise. They had been friends, after all, and the last thing he wanted was for her to loathe him completely. Back in the trial, she seemed to have understood why he killed Tsumugi, but… how much would that colour her opinion of him? Would she remember him as a friend, or as a murderer? Whatever she did, he at least hoped that she would try to remember him as he was – as he really was. Not who he would become in the moments before death, and certainly not who he had been when he had eliminated Tsumugi. 

Tears pricked at his eyes once more, the lump in his throat holding itself so tight that he almost couldn’t swallow around it. Sanguis’s bite stung like hell. It was no deeper than the average guinea pig’s teeth could sink, and though he lobbed accusations, there was no proof that he had been tampered with... yet still it stung, like its own form of mockery as he was forced forward. Every step seemed to irritate it more, like the rows and rows of identical empty brick houses he passed somehow could increase the ache. He wondered if the wound had stopped bleeding by now. Carefully, he unwrapped the dandelion leaf, stopping to take a look at it. He was only a few seconds into noticing the layer of peeling skin when a sharp hiss snapped him out of his thoughts.

He knew what it would be even before they locked eyes. 

That goddamn cat.

It was every bit as ugly as he anticipated. Long-haired with matted grey fur, dark eyes, and a snout pushed in by years of inbreeding. An angry red scar ran across its face, but this was not the most unappealing thing about the creature. The perpetual snarl on its face easily took the award in the worst flaw category. 

“You must be Imfa.”

The feline did not reply. Not a hiss or a meow. She simply stared, sharp-eyed, waiting for him to make his move. Like she understood that the two of them were locked in a stand-off. Her indignation did not surprise him, especially not after what happened with Sanguis. If this was his execution, if all was as Monokuma said it would be, then he had no doubts that Imfa was here to challenge him. A story of lost pets who only seemed to fight and fight, discontent to be brought back to the owners they didn’t have… It didn’t take a detective to know that these animals were meant to be his killing machines. He didn’t know why he even bothered to indulge the idea that this might be anything different. 

“I… guess I’m supposed to try and catch you now?” He said, talking mostly to himself. It wasn’t like the cat had any intention of responding. Even if she did, she didn’t speak Japanese. “And then you’ll run?” 

Imfa’s eyes widened. Uh-oh. On a normal cat, this would have meant alertness, or perhaps an expectation of playtime. For this one, though… She was ready. She understood exactly what her job was, and she was going to do it. All she needed was for him to take that first step. Remembering the truth of his mission, remembering what this was all for, he did.

One foot in front of the other, Shuichi charged at her, moving as fast as his legs could carry him. It was sort of a hobble-run, really, but nonetheless he hoped it would be effective overall. He needed to catch her if he wanted to get this over with. Nabbing Imfa wouldn’t be so easy if he wasn’t on her level. To his surprise, his strange approach worked better than he thought, helping him scoop her into his arms with only a bit of wriggling. She resisted, of course – squirmed the whole way through, trying to snake her way out of his arms before he could even rise to his feet – but he pushed through, not stopping even when she began to let out a loud shriek of protest. He knew it wouldn’t be too long before he felt her sharp claws clinging onto his jacket, tearing at the fabric and exposing his arms to an assault of feline fury. 

He did what he could to hold strong. This was his task, after all. It would all amount to his death in the end, yet the knowledge of that didn’t make him want to stop. If holding Imfa would make this easier, would make it go faster, then he would cling to her for dear life. If she wanted to scratch him up with disease-ridden claws, rub her fleas all over his body, and bite him until her teeth fell out, then that was how it would have to be. Monokuma had already refused him dignity and promised him death. What was the point in trying to fight that off? What would he gain from extending his torture? 

The images of his friends entered his mind once again. Angie, on her hands and knees now, hands clasped in prayer. He could almost hear her words beyond Imfa’s feral scream. Maki, tugging frustratedly on one of her pigtails, a crease in her brow as she cursed under her breath. Ouch! Imfa found his hand. Like most cats, she knew how to make good use of her teeth. They sunk in like she was trying to mimic Sanguis’s damage. Kaede, teary-eyed, tight-lipped, clutching at her sweater for some form of comfort or tension relief. 

I’m sorry, everyone. I can’t keep putting you through this.

Claws raked his skin and he cried out, still holding firm. Had Monokuma even accounted for him properly capturing Imfa? He never received an indication of what to do with her. Here she was, writhing in his arms, practically foaming at the mouth with frustration, and there was nothing to be done. Maybe he was right that that in itself was the point: for Shuichi to let creatures like Sanguis and Imfa have their way torturing him, until bigger and better pets came up to make his life hell. Who would kill him in the end? Perhaps in a show of irony, a big bear would come and kill him in the end. The mastermind would surely love that. 

Just let me die already.

The blood beading on the scratches was cathartic, almost. He couldn’t exaggerate his sense of reality to the point where he truly believed that he was dying, but the clear evidence that the end was coming meant something. He doesn’t want to die; he just wants to get it over with. Why can’t Monokuma just end this stupid charade already? 

The next time Imfa sunk her teeth into his hand, he dropped her. No hesitation, no care, just dropped. He never made the decision, she just… fell. Fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, screeching at him as she landed on all four feet. For a moment he almost felt sorry for the thing, but as she turned back to hiss at him, his regret became lacking. 

Just let me die already. 

Letting out a final hiss, Imfa suddenly took off, darting towards the simple roads of the picturesque town. Cursing under his breath, Shuichi followed, running as fast as he could manage to try and keep up with her. He couldn’t help but notice the way she seemed to race along the edge of the paved beast… like she was looking for an opening. 

__________________________________________________________________________

Kaede’s heart made its home in her stomach. She thought, anyway. Perhaps it had already fallen out of her butt or something dramatic like that. It didn’t really matter, did it? Nothing else mattered right now. Not her comfort, her anxiety, her sense of the world. All that mattered was Shuichi, whom she knew for certain was being dragged to a most gruesome death. 

“I never thought I would say this, but fuck that cat,” Kaito muttered under his breath, teeth grazing his lip as he stared up at the screen before him. They’d been watching Shuichi track Sanguis and Imfa for what felt like hours. In truth it probably hadn’t been more than a few minutes. “Fuck that cat.”

“More like fuck Monokuma.” Kaede whispered in reply, still careful to make sure that their captor would not overhear. She hated that damn bear already, but the last thing she needed to do was get herself into further trouble. It wouldn’t help anyone. Shuichi had made her promise to take care of things, after all, and she didn’t want to dishonour his wishes so soon after she’d lost him. 

Huh. She’d lost him. Silent tears threatened to slip down her cheeks as it dawned on her that her dear friend was already as good as dead. The pain of executions, she found, was not just that you were watching someone die. That alone would be traumatic enough, but for someone like Monokuma… oh no, that could never be good enough. What he needed, what he performed, was a mocking game of hope and despair. You knew the end result, you knew the consequences before you started playing the game, but you still had hope that you could get away unscathed. Why would so many of these people fight to survive? Hope, plain and simple. And there are only so many times you can watch hopes be crushed before it starts to get to you. Kaede wondered if this would be her breaking point. She prayed to every god in existence that this would not be the case. 

Her body wracked with tremors. She could barely watch as Shuichi darted after the cat, knowing full well that he was following it to a certain death. How could he not know that by now? Did he know that, and was just trying to get it done faster? There were very few felines who would have any business in a sewer, and yet, that’s exactly where Imfa seemed to go. There were only so many ways this could end. 

“Is he going to drown in sewer water or something?” Kaito asked Maki, clutching tightly onto the sleeves of his jacket. Apart from Kaede, he might have been the other person in the group who was most broken up by Shuichi’s loss. Though he was trying hard to hide it, his eyes were more glassy than normal, and his usual conviction remained absent from his speech. “Sounds like a bad way to go, drowning in shit.”

Maki merely shrugged in response, her piercing glare even sharper than before. Thinly veiled anger, if Kaede had to guess. One could only imagine the fantasies she was having about ripping the stuffing out of Monokuma and spitting on his disemboweled corpse. A twisted part of Kaede shared that reverie.

“Seize us with Your power and Your light,” Angie muttered, hands clasped in prayer, wishing for this to be enough to help their friend, “Help us to protect all life…”

If Angie’s god could save them, then he would be the best there ever was… but even if he were all powerful, she doubted that Shuichi could be rescued as well. Sometimes, gods are just too late… Or perhaps she was just becoming a bit of a cynic. Too many broken dreams. 

Shuichi’s mixed desperation and fear about catching up to Imfa seemed to linger as he plunged himself into the opening of the sewer. Though water splashed against him when his feet met the bottom, he didn’t seem to react to the newfound wetness of his pant legs. No, all he seemed focused on was scanning the area, trying to find that cat as if he, too, was tired of prolonging the inevitable. She wasn’t sure if the thought of him also wanting this to just end made her feel better or worse. Probably the latter, if she had to guess.

The water in the sewer was deeper than she expected, about up to Shuichi’s knees. She gulped. He was an average height for a man. Suddenly she worried that Kaito’s former prediction might come true. Drowning him in the sewers might not have been particularly on theme, but it would still have been unpleasant. People always said that drowning was one of the worst ways to die. As the thought crossed her mind, she could take comfort only in the fact that the sewers here didn’t seem to be based in… human excrement. They were more like a storm drain, littered with dirt and leaves. Actually, that reminded her-

“Where did Imfa go?” 

The thought popped into her mind in tandem with the words leaving Shuichi’s mouth. Only a moment ago Shuichi had been chasing Imfa towards the sewers. Both he and the group watching had seen her leap in. Where did she go? Was there some sort of ledge she’d scampered onto that he didn’t know about? Or was the dirty beast somewhere flailing in the water? Or, even more ominously, was she there anymore at all? Were it any other cat, she might have found herself full of concern for it, but right then, all she could think about was what Imfa’s disappearance could mean for him. Suddenly, the already heavy lump in her throat made swallowing even tougher. 

Watching Shuichi tread through the water, she found herself wondering if it was true concern creasing his brow. Even if it were, it would still beg the question of who it was for. Himself almost would have been the answer she hoped for, if it did not include the fact that he inched closer to his demise with every step. The poor boy was already in such rough shape. Deep cuts and scratches marked his face and hands, blood still dripping from some of the wounds as he waded through the sewers. At least he didn’t have to put his injuries anywhere near the water. Water as filthy as that, a soup of leaves, soil, and human bacteria… it would be bound to sting, maybe even cause infection if he had more time. 

“Imfa!” Shuichi called out as he wandered forward, moving closer and closer to where his path might diverge. “Here, kitty! W-W-Where are you?” 

Forget the damn cat, Shuichi, Kaede longed to cry, but he wouldn’t hear her even if she did. Not that it mattered even if he could hear, anyway. He was doomed. She had to keep reminding herself of that: he’s doomed, he’s doomed, he’s doomed. He’s dead. 

“Here, kitty k-kitty kitty,” Shuichi shouted once more, cupping his hands over his mouth like the amplification could make a difference, “Here, Imfa! Don’t you wanna scratch me up some more?” 

The cat, to no one’s surprise, failed to respond. Regardless, the detective pushed on, yelling for the disappeared pet over and over again. As the minutes melted by and all he did was shout, a sense of dread began to build in the pit of Kaede’s stomach. Every hair on her body began to stand on end, and she swore she could feel the colour draining from her skin. Her heart, still beating as fast as ever, flooded its sound into her ears as she watched. 

Someone’s hand brushed hers. “Kaede?” A familiar voice said softly. Ryoma, she noted, but did not look at him. “Are you okay? You don’t have to watch.”

Yet her eyes were glued to the screen, taking in every last image of her friend’s incoming demise. As the camera turned to focus on Shuichi’s front, sweat slicked her palms. She lacked the strength to even spare a glance in Monokuma’s direction, yet she could picture the look on his face – the conniving little smirk that would generate and grow and grow until finally they-

“Holy shit, what the hell is that in the water?!” 

Kaito was the first to scream and point, the others following suit. There stood Shuichi, knee-deep in sewer water, calling out for the attention of an alligator. Oh, did she say alligator? She meant cat. He’d just managed to attract the attention of an alligator with his yelling – and then he had promptly frozen in place, wide-eyed. A string of curses slipped from Kaede’s lips. The beast swam ever closer, its long body gliding through the water with ease, and all they could do was gaze upon the image with wide eyes. Monokuma’s laughter echoed in the background as the beast slithered forward, face lifting from the water as its long jaw opened wider and wider. The cries of the others sounded out around her, but they would fall on deaf ears. 

Within a matter of seconds, the alligator’s jaw snapped against Shuichi’s leg. He crumpled instantly, howling in pain as he dropped to his hands and knees in the water. The detective had only been in the water for a matter of seconds, and yet they could all see the scarlet of his blood beginning to seep in. She could only imagine the burning and stinging that came with the bite, sewage water seeping into the open wound and piercing him with sharp daggers of pain. She couldn’t tell if it had damaged the bone, but at the very least, the gator must have taken a chunk of flesh out of his calf. The thought of that alone was enough to make bile rise in her throat. Feigning strength, she forced it back down. She wasn’t sure if they should be thankful or not that the water obscured their view of the wound. It seemed a little cruel.

“Oh fuck,” curses spilled from Kaito’s lips as they watched on, grasping at Maki’s arm, “Oh fuck, oh fuck.”

Though nobody else was verbalizing it, Kaede knew that his sentiment was shared by everyone in the room. As the alligator’s jaws unhinged from Shuichi’s leg, her stomach flopped, trying to process the expression of absolute terror on his face. Eyes wide like a full moon, body drenched in sewer water and sweat, brows knitted together in unimaginable pain as his teeth clenched, and tears formed in his eyes. His chest was heaving as he stared into the beady eyes of the creature still unhinging its maw, eyeing him like a piece of fresh deli meat. Each hair on Kaede’s body was standing on end as she watched, wondering if each breath would be his last. With a wounded leg, there was no getting away from the beast. Both he and she knew that. The alligator must have known that, too. Suddenly, Ryoma’s suggestion that she not watch suddenly seemed like a good one. 

Try as she might, she still could not tear herself away from the screen. 

Shuichi was glued in place. Even if he weren’t, between his leg and the water resistance, he wouldn’t be able to get very far. Kaede swallowed hard. She was powerless to help him now. Monokuma had stolen all the power she had, and all she could do was try to ignore the feeling of her heart being ripped apart by the scene before her.

“Run!” Some of the other survivors were chanting, Kaito the loudest of them all. “Come on, Shuichi, at least try to run!”

It doesn’t matter if he runs, Kaede longed to scream. He’s screwed. We’re all screwed. As the alligator stared down their classmate, poised and ready to pounce once more, Kaede knew there was nothing else that she or anyone could do. All of their praying and crying and begging wasn’t going to do anything. The mastermind, whoever they were, was laughing about it. With one last wiggle into position, the alligator lunged forth once more and leapt towards Shuichi’s throat.

Seeing what happened from there was difficult. The positioning of Shuichi’s legs, intended to give him the opportunity to push himself up again, made it challenging for the alligator to get at his most vulnerable spot. The animal practically launched itself forward at him, moving quickly and frantically to get its way there. Each of its limbs were rushing to get to Shuichi as fast as it possibly could. In a creepy way, it almost seemed like it knew that it had a job to do, much like Sanguis and Imfa had. Still, all the way along, Shuichi resisted with everything in his power. His good leg delivered a swift kick to the alligator’s torso, earning him a hiss of anger from the beast. Treating it as a prize, Shuichi gave another. Then another. Then another. This angered the gator. The jaw spread itself open once more, revealing a mouth full of sharp yellow teeth. Whatever the gator’s breath smelled like, it made Shuichi’s nose wrinkle as he took another jab at the beast with his fist this time, punching it square in the snout. 

No hiss this time. The alligator just resolved to keep pushing. Pushing and pushing, using the rest of his body as a springboard to get to the throat. No success yet, but Kaede could practically smell the copper through the screen. Shuichi could only fight for so long. Bile rose in her throat at the thought. They were going to see him die on screen. Cries for him to succeed flooded her ears from the students around her. The alligator’s jaw snapped dangerously close to his throat. The ground swayed beneath her feet. Everything was spinning. The gator snapped again, the tip of his mouth catching on the skin of Shuichi’s neck. The detective gasped, but did not stop fighting, did not stop moving as he tried to jab his fingers into the alligator’s eyes. For someone who had seemed to resign himself to death, he kept fighting. There truly was a part of Shuichi Saihara that did want to live, but it came far too late. 

The creature snapped again, and with that last bit of effort, secured itself around Shuichi’s neck. 

The scream that erupted from Shuichi was guttural. Half-way between a gargle and a shriek, it tore through the air of the trial room, sending shivers down her spine. Blood poured from the wound as if from a faucet, and it only seemed to bring more as the alligator sunk its teeth further into Shuichi’s skin. His eyes were wide with pain. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he lay there, seconds away from death. Half the crowd around her was screaming. The ones that weren’t were crying. Kaede was perhaps the only person who found the strength to finally turn away, hands clamped over her mouth to try and prevent the bile in her throat from reaching its peak. 

They failed. Head hanging, lacking in dignity, Kaede vomited all over the floor of the trial room. It was so par for the course with the execution that none but one even turned to look at her. As the screams and cries of the trial room continued to ring out, Shuichi’s body being mangled and eaten by the alligator he fought so hard against, Ryoma found his way to Kaede’s side. 

“You alright?” He asked stupidly, clearly not sure of what else to say. His voice trembled with every word. “Maybe plug your ears. It’ll help.”

She jammed her fingers in her ears without a second thought. All the while, she felt Ryoma press a comforting hand to her thigh, the only place his short stature would allow him to reach appropriately. His hands, much like his voice, were shaking. “It’ll be over soon.”

Kaede nodded. May your soul find peace, Shuichi Saihara.

Thank you for trying to protect us.

#danganronpa v3 #dangaronpa v3 AU #danganronpa v3 goodbye despair #shuichi saihara #kaede akamatsu #danganronpa #kaito momota #angie yonaga #maki harukawa #Koto's 100 Followers Gifts

[soysaucevictim]

“it feels like my brain (was floating in a fishtank)”

(See warnings/summary on Ao3.)

[ Prologue/Start ] [ Previous ]

Chapter 9: Levitation Nation

Roman sat in his room and dug around for where he shoved the Disney pins out of sight for the better part of the last year.

He hesitated briefly to pull one of those things out, to open his eyes with it in his hands. But when he did, he found himself crying. He carefully rubbed the enamel, actually enjoying the experience for the first time, since before everything. He could still do other things, like look around his room and actually think.

The sting in his chest was gone.

He couldn’t feel his Horror stirring at all. It was strange.

His head felt a clarity and quiet he never had before. As much as the idea of flying around still sounded like fun, he felt like a human being. He was curious about seeing his Horror sleeping soundly, but he couldn’t open up a gate to his own Lair.

He knew distantly, how vulnerable he was like this. That if someone found him like this, he wouldn’t be able to defend himself. Neither in the real world or the Primordial Dream. The weight being lifted was just too profound to register it.

He wished he could have a few more days like this. His parents were happy he seemed happy.

If he hadn’t gotten a surprise message on his phone, reminding him of the main reason WHY he finally managed to shake off Steve’s touch, he would think the risk of it all was worthwhile.

It took several replays of the voice-mail for Roman to properly process what he was hearing.

“Robro, it’s been awhile. Can we, uh, catch up later? Halloween is just around the corner and I know you won’t pass up going to Disneyland. I have some promising news to share! You will be there, won’t you? Please, please be there. I-I need-!”

Remus hung up before he could finish the sentence, Roman was rattled by how his brother’s tone shifted too. From this confident, if kind of stilted casualness, to trembling with fear.

When he shared it with his parents, the color in their faces drained.

Everyone was happy to have heard from him, after being sick with worry. But, Roman knew this also meant it was time to reawaken his Horror. He was scared for his brother. He was scared for his parents’ safety in the Primordial Dream. He was also selfishly scared about what it would take to do so – he worried if he was going to hate or hurt his parents after this.

But they reassured him. “We’re only doing this out of necessity, we love you. We love all of you. Dearly.”

-

Carrie remembered the time Roman vanished after he was shot by Steve. She remembered the feeling of the world disappearing beneath her, staring at the trail of blood he left behind. She was bereft with grief, so many things happened in what felt like an instant and her mind was playing catch-up.

She started having nearly constant nightmares after that happened.

At first they were clear 1:1 trauma flashbulbs, the events playing out in sharp fragments etching deeply into her heart. After Steve had died, the nightmares started to warp into some kind of fairy tale. She realized she had been Called by the Bright Dream, when her broken leg healed so much faster than it should have.

There was a brief moment of elation, to get that cast off and walk normally again. Before long, she started to understand what it really meant to be a Hero. Most of the time, she just wanted to be a normal human mother again. Just concerned with her work at the hangar, staying connected with the extended relatives, and taking care of her immediate family and home.

Those desires would then be tainted by the Bright Dream, “Maybe if your children weren’t monsters in the first place, you could’ve had that.”

Whether she liked it or not, that wasn’t the reality she lived in. Ruminating on it wasn’t helping anyone, least of all herself.

She and Vic stood before Roman’s bedroom. As she looked into her child’s expectant eyes, she knew this was going to be one of those times she might actually be grateful for its Gifts. She hoped it wasn’t going to be the last time.

She held her husband’s hand and they stepped through the shimmering rift into Roman’s very soul, together.

-

The entrance point the Espinozas had taken led into a long, winding burrow. The only way was forward.

The first thing they were met with were unrelenting gusts of wind, within the Lair. It was surprising how the tunnel’s torches even stayed lit in there – with how the winds stretched them to near-nothingness with each pulse. Thankfully, they had entered with some climbing gear, relying on picks to leverage themselves further inside.

It was a boon granted by Roman’s invitation that the air inside wasn’t too thin to breathe. It was also probably the only reason why they didn’t contend with a bellows effect on those flames while there.

The wind made it hard to communicate. Carrie was taking point, shouting, “I see the first chamber ahead, dear!”

Soon enough they were there, the winds had more room to churn about, but there were other concerns in front of them. Namely, most of the space wasn’t level or stable footing but a deep chasm below. There was barely enough room to sidle along the walls toward the next tunnel.

Roman told them this place technically went to two chambers. Across the top? His beloved Hoard chamber, the place they wanted to be. Down the drop? Smack dab in the Heart Chamber, where the dragon slept, and it was a very, very long fall.

There was a burrow connecting Heart to Hoard as well, so that gave them a couple routes to get there. Either try the direct path to carefully cross the pit, or rappel down and take the scenic route. Hearing about it beforehand, Carrie thought they’d do the former. But, after actually seeing it for herself? “I think our only option is down.”

“Do you think we packed enough rope?”

“We can only hope.”

The noises of the ropes twisting, of cracking stone and fall-away rocks made time feel sluggish and tense. The wind making the two sway with even a little too much slack forced them to slow even more. Carrie was worried her husband wouldn’t keep up, until his magic flared up again, part of the way down. It almost broke her control of her descent – how a wave of adrenaline and goosebumps overcame her. She had to pause to catch her breath, “V-Vic!?”

He cackled, riding the thrill of the spell he just cast, “Just trying to give myself a second wind!”

Vic redoubled his speed of progress down into the Heart, she was worried he was going to get reckless at that rate. Again, her thoughts returned to Remus. “Careful!”

They managed to get close enough to the floor to see the hearth fire that lit up Roman’s Heart and to get a sense of just how short the rope was. It had to be just over a storey’s fall height, by Carrie’s reckoning. She was about to tell Vic to let her jump first, but he let go first.

He wasn’t the most graceful about it, and she followed with a more stable landing. She fretted a bit over him only to find him a little scraped up on landing. They went quiet to the sound of noises, a mix of growling and snoring, loud and low enough to reverberate deeply through the two of them.

They looked across the chamber to see just the immense scale of Roman’s Horror. As Carrie carefully approached her son’s soul, she figured the dragon could eat several people in one go, no issue. She shook her head as the Bright Dream’s echoes pierced her thoughts, “It would be so easy to-”

Vic noticed her starting to shake, “What’s wrong?”

“I-I can’t stay here, we need to get to his Hoard. Now.”

Vic understood, this place filled him with a constant feeling of unease. Seeing Roman’s Horror reminded him where they were, a realm he wasn’t really at home in. Carrie was more in her element, scarily so. She knew which of the burrows to take for the target Chamber.

Before long, they were in the Hoard Chamber and it was stunning and so neatly organized. Everything had this preserved sheen to it, both the brand new items and the vintage ones. They looked around for something to wake up Roman with, and destroy it. Carrie dreaded hurting her son like this, knowing that these were more than simple objects to him. The Bright Dream, however, was gleeful and spoiled for choice.

She winced and grabbed something and Vic’s arm. They were to find the chamber that looked like the Marketplace from there, destroy it, and take a gateway out there. As soon as something was held, a lethargic growl shook the halls.

They couldn’t stop to appreciate the surreal sight when Carrie took a Br’er Bear fursuit from one of the piles and tore it apart with her estoc. Carrie knew it to be an artifact from one of the more ignoble pieces of Disney history. When reminded of the inspiration behind Splash Mountain, it made her son squirm with shame taking it from the Whites. Even if the dirt was necessary to dig up.

Despite all of this, in an instant, an ear-splitting screech was heard. It was filled with pain and fury and froze Carrie. An irrational part of her wanted to face the Horror, some fucked up sense of honor. Vic’s attempts to shake her out of it fell through. The Bright Dream’s compulsions being way too strong.

In moments, the Horror stared them down, snarling. There was no reasoning with it, no illusion of human thought, it simply wanted them to die. It took a swipe and Carrie parried and took a quick stab, almost on auto-pilot. Vic started to panic, “CARRIE. ¡DETENER! ”

After more exchanged blows and screaming from both sides, Carrie suddenly relaxed just enough to realize she was hurting her son. Again. When she grew tired, she knew Vic was casting another spell over her. This wasn’t part of the plan.

Vic carried her off and out barely before they could be licked by Roman’s flames.

The only solace for Carrie was knowing she hadn’t killed him or undid the work to break his anathema.

-

The plan was for Janus to have Annie wait at the marketplace to pick up the Espinoza parents once they were done. And it was Virgil’s job to make sure Roman didn’t do anything rash upon his Horror waking up.

Virgil had taken him to a safe room they all agreed to convene at, it was Ellis’s old place. Ellis had reinforced and soundproofed it with his magic over the years, making it basically a bunker. It was also good that it was roughly halfway between the Espinoza’s place and the market. It gave them the time to soften the landing ahead of them all.

As soon as his parents had destroyed something from his prized Hoard, Roman was incensed. An intensity well beyond the fury he held towards Virgil or anything in recent memory. He screamed and flailed and cried, as his eyes flared red. Roman was beyond words, growling and screeching like the monster he was. He really was a horrible monster, it was stupid to think he could pretend otherwise.

Virgil was cautious about how he restrained him. He wasn’t sure if Roman was going to have access to his atavisms, like this. Or if Roman was going to hurt himself or anyone else.

The Espinozas looked worse for wear, once they arrived. There, they immediately heard Virgil's speech mixed in with Roman's screaming, “C’mon Roman, you can pull through this. I know you’re strong enough to survive even the worst that heroes can do, let alone one who only wants to help you.”

When Virgil appeared to notice them there, he clearly fumbled to change his tack, “Because you’re an absolute piece of shit who refuses to die. You’ll survive out of spite. You can't just give the world that favor.”

As Carrie and Vic looked at their son with worry, Virgil stepped aside.

Roman thrashed about in the webs as his parents carefully approached him. Carrie was welling up, unable to get close, “Roise, I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry.”

Vic stepped closer to his son, “Te queremos mucho, Champ. I know it was hard...”

The thrashing started to slow down, Roman had nearly destroyed his voice, “N-nanay? Papa?”

Carrie stepped closer, wincing about how he flinched. Vic appeared to grow tired as he used his magic to soothe his son, it worked a little bit. It only tapped the brakes on the autonomic nervous system, in hope that his son’s mind would catch up.

Eventually, Virgil thought Roman wasn’t going to do anything and released him. Roman was immediately hugged by his parents.

The present Espinozas, simply needed to have this moment, Virgil allowed them the space.

-

It took a couple days for everyone to recover from that endeavor to more completely purge Steve’s grip.

There was still an air of uncertainty about Remus. His spawn didn’t relent and Roman was still in that gorged haze. He knew he needed to make himself hungrier, just in case he needed his claws and fire again.

Carrie wounding his Horror helped that along by itself. He had so much more to worry about then, than how much that whole ordeal hurt to heal from. They all did, there was a heaviness in the air as Halloween approached.

Despite Janus and Ellis’s best efforts, they never could get a bead on where Remus was. There were too many of Remus’s Horrorspawn for Carrie to effectively track her son either. On top of wanting to look forward to Halloween to celebrate instead of dread.

Roman noticed Remus had blocked off the entrance into his Lair, from the chamber they had shared, at some point. So he couldn’t find a way to contact him in the Primordial Dream.

Eventually, after enough run-ins with those things and Roman stewing about how it felt having his Horror being awakened again, his thoughts went somewhere that he was uncomfortable with. He didn’t have much time left to do it, but it was to make his own Horrorspawn.

He learned from Janus that one of their boons was making it easier to deflect anathema. Roman shivered as the phantom aches of Steve’s curse briefly came to his mind. At that point, with it gone, he understood even more why Virgil was so wary of his mother.

He didn’t realize how much mental energy he put in just to manage its effects on his life.

He wasn’t sure who he’d even pick to hold some piece of his Horror inside them, to inflict more nightmares on. He hated that the immediate choices were his own parents, they’ve already been through so much.

He had to ask Janus what to do.

-

Janus had told the twins a few different ways to conjure Nightmares, over their times together. Remus even shared a few with Roman, before. Janus also said they could learn new nightmares from those considered kin, mages being an example. So on their advisement, Roman went to meet Ellis.

Roman found Ellis in the library again, reading something. “Hey, are you busy?”

Ellis glared back at Roman, “What does it look like?”

“R-right. Janus said you could teach me about Nightmares.”

Ellis sighed, “Yes and no. I need time to make preparations for our Halloween operation. However, I do have a colleague better equipped to help you out with this.”

“Who?”

“Mr. Pfeifer, Virgil works for him. He’s one of those warlock colleagues of mine. I referenced them to your father, once. Let me contact him.”

Ellis pulled out a phone, “Hello. Mr. Pfeifer, are you open for a consult? Good, please come to the estate to-.”

Suddenly, a third person was in the room, startling Roman. It was probably a good thing he was too gorged to claw anyone up, let alone this guy. Ellis looked at them and rolled his eyes, muttering as he returned to his reading, “Show off.”

The stranger chuckled about that. He wore a bright smile, glasses, and had a lot of pink and light brown elements to his outfit. “Mr. Pfeifer?”

Mr. Pfeifer nodded, “Oh. You must be Roman? I guess you desire a little inspiration? I can help with that. All you have to do is ask.”

Roman stammered, “I-I didn’t say anything.”

Ellis groaned at this, only making Pfeifer laugh more. “I suppose Lo-Ellis and Vi- Val didn’t tell you much about the Arcana stuff. Well-”

“H-how do you know my-?”

Pfeifer continued, but his mouth didn’t move, speaking from inside Roman’s head, “Mind stuff is kind of my thing and Beasts are basically my beautiful planar neighbors! You can call me Milo, by the way.”

Roman stepped back and looked around himself, “The hell-?”

Ellis glared at Milo, “Sir. You already know why I asked for your attendance. Get on with it. I have delicate matters to process over here.”

Roman was suddenly more uncomfortable, knowing he was getting pried into, “How about a warning, next time!?”

Milo laughed heartily before speaking aloud again, “You really are a lot like my best hire, huh?”

Roman simply pouted and Ellis was staring daggers into that tome of his. Milo continued, “Alright, you’re lucky you have a lot I can work with in there…”

Roman shuddered, “What?”

“Notice the lack of a certain kind of insight in Disney’s Rogue’s Gallery? Believing their questionable aspects are badges of pride, justifying it just a tad too much? Even though it’s clearly leading to their failures? How do you think you can use that to your advantage out there, Jake?”

“My name’s not JAKE!”

“You’re a dragon and American too, sooo-”

Ellis grumbled, “And THERE it is.”

Roman started to realize what Milo was getting at, after a moment, “Oh. OH. You cheeky-!”

“Well?”

“I-I guess I have some ideas…”

Milo spoke inside Roman’s head again, “You can do a whole lot with that intimidating specimen. Hmmm, I wonder how many omelets you could make with five dozen eggs?”

Roman stared Milo down, deliberately thinking, “Great. Now I’m thinking about Mom’s cooking…”

Milo laughed and answered aloud, “Looks like you got a good one lined up there, I knew you could do it! I’d love for a follow-up later.”

Milo looked down at his watch, “Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it’s getting!”

Ellis piped up, “Are you quite done?”

Milo nodded at them both, with a more serious expression, “Oh and good luck with the Remus situation. Adieu.”

In a blink, Milo vanished. Leaving Roman to remember how worried he was getting for his brother.

There was a long silence, as Roman tried to process what happened. He had more in his arsenal, the next step was where to use it. Who to use it on.

Ellis stopped reading, looked at Roman, and took a deep breath, “I’m supposing you didn’t miss him almost spilling our True Names?”

“I-I was kind of wondering about that too.”

“Know that if we can’t destroy this threat, we’ll need to at least seal it away. I am nearing the end of those preparations. I think you will be needing mine, and you have permission to share this with your parents. No one else, understand?”

Roman nodded.

“It’s Logan. Sumner.”

Roman snorted, “So. I can call you Nerdy Wolverine, then?”

Logan groaned, “I imagine you will even if I told you no. Given what we’re facing here – I have more important things to be concerned with.”

“Wait, what do you mean sealing?”

“We’re going to need some objects to serve as reliquaries, as there is some documentation on addressing Insatiables in that way. Plural, just in case.”

“Can they be anything?”

“Presumably.”

Roman went on to discuss some of his ideas with Logan. “… and a jar of dirt? Oh well, I’ll take it on board. Oh, and I want to make it clear that I’m also worried about your brother’s wellbeing, too.”

Roman smiled slightly at that, “Thanks.”

-

Roman visited the Disneyland Park about two weeks before Halloween. Partly to find some solace. Partly to memorize the layout again, to prepare for what may happen. Partly to find potential incubators. He just had to find someone he could stomach doing that to.

The park entrance already had some festive decorations. The line going out into the esplanade was really long and it wasn’t even an hour past opening time for Guests. It was a weekend Carrie had off, and she insisted on coming along with him.

Roman would be annoyed, if not for his peace of mind too.

So there they were in line, there was a woman with a stroller past the person right in front of them. She also had a child, maybe Patton’s age, to her side. The children took her attention away from the line a few times, leaving enough space for a pair of young men to cut in front of this lady.

She didn’t seem to notice, neither did Carrie, but Roman certainly did.

Roman told her, “Will you keep my spot, Mom? I think I recognize those guys from high school…”

Roman didn’t really tell her that third reason he wanted to come here.

Carrie narrowed her eyes a bit, “Sure. But I AM watching you.”

This was totally for that lady’s honor and rightful place in line. Not because Roman took the thought of waiting even longer to actually get in the park personally. Roman definitely wasn’t being petty.

Roman first went for one of the guys that looked like he was just following the other. He seemed a little less sure about the stunt they pulled, even more so as Roman approached them. Roman could smell some anxiety coming from him. Roman smiled. “My, do you look familiar! Remember me?”

“Uh, no?”

“Does the name Isaac ring any bells?”

“Not really?”

The other guy, pretended to look like this was always his spot in line and was annoyed with Roman butting in. He looked at the first guy, “Dash, who are you talking too?”

Dash shrugged, “This guy says he’s Isaac. Do we know any Isaacs?” 

Roman piped up overly cheery, “I think you were on the football team, right? I was one of the band guys.”

The line took a few steps forward, as Dash narrowed his eyes at Roman. and then at his friend, “You buy that, Kwan?”

Kwan crossed his arms, scowling at Roman, “You know what? I don’t think I do. The fuck is your angle, man?”

“Oh, fine. You got me. You don’t know me. I’m just gonna say it was really clever of you two taking advantage of a distraction like that! And all you did with that was jump the line. How droll.”

Roman’s eyes flickered red as he stared into Dash and then Kwan’s eyes, pulling them into the same nightmare, smiling eerily.

-

They were pulled into a tavern, more worn in and dreary than in the movie. The taxidermied trophies were more fantastical and horrifying -  dragons, griffons, harpies. The trophy chair was made from dragon hide and so was the rug. There were suspicious splatters of blood in various spots of the venue. The patrons took the facsimiles of the crowd in the real world. Even a few confused looking children.

But what immediately struck terror in those two is how their bodies and mouths were forced to re-enact the scene Roman was pulling. Kwan was Gaston and Dash was Lefou.  As Kwan shifted this way and that in the seat, some of its scales sheared off into his shirt collar. As the performance started to get violent – Kwan had taken a disturbing amount of glee in beating the shit out of his presumed friend. Dash just smiled along and sang praises, as blood oozed out of his mouth.

It was all a very grim and uncanny scene. The lyrics were a distorted parody and personalized to these two troublemakers’ “values”. Dash was totally elsewhere when he got crushed by that chair, munching pieces of that rug in the process. He was laughing like a fool as his “friend” smiled down approvingly at him.

-

As the nightmare took hold, Kwan barked an order at Dash, “Hey! This crone and brat were small fry. We totally could hop those fucking turnstiles.”

Kwan smiled and stammered, “Sure thing, boss!”

Roman tried not to laugh as the predictable happened – them getting pulled aside by security to be disciplined. The woman they cut in front of was utterly baffled as Roman let her through with a bow.

He rejoined Carrie, who knew exactly what Roman just did. Roman flinched when she stage-whispered, “Roman. Isaac. Espinoza. What did you do!?”

Roman whispered into her ear what he did and why. She deeply sighed, “… If all of this wasn’t for Remus, I would probably have you by the ear and shipped home for that, mister.”

Roman sighed with relief, as they made their way into the park.

He felt a heaviness inside his Lair before long, he managed to do it. It was strangely distracting, as he was trying to take in the whole park again. He was kind of scared of checking on it later.

He at least had the presence of mind to grab a park map and schedule along the way.

-

Roman hesitated to check on his own spawn when he got back from the trip to Disneyland.

He lasted only a day before he got too restless and worried about them being reincorporated.

He used the portal in his bedroom again to get into the Lair. He went to his Hoard chamber, where he knew where the nest was. He passed by the Magic Mirror and noticed his draconic form inside there had a few scars – one across his left jowl and few on both his forelimbs. He gave a low growl, lowering and shaking his head, his thoughts melancholic, “I guess there’s no forgetting what led to all of this.”

After a continued scan, Roman saw a nest made of Disney plushies and themed blankets. It held a pair of his own eggs. He stepped closer, they were pearl-white, with red and gold freckling all over their surface. They looked more like bird eggs than lizard eggs, even though he wasn’t as avid about biology as his dad and brother were. He heard the shape prevented them from rolling away too far.

He cautiously approached the eggs, lightly tapping one with one of his claws. The shells were hard enough that he felt comfortable with the urge to nestle up to them and warm them. It was almost instinctual.

They truly were pieces of him, he started to understand what Remus was going on about.

A distant part of his mind bothered him. The part that looked at the monster he was, disturbed by all the new things he was learning about what he was. Here though? It was barely even a whisper.

When his whole self was within the Lair, he knew he could protect his creations.

-

The next week seemed to fly by for Roman. He visited his Lair, practically every other day, and time just seemed to stop and a lot of his other worries did, too.

That didn’t stop his parents from getting worried and the mixed responses from the rest of the Brood. Apparently, he was acting strange to them. He was elsewhere, distantly recognizing that this behavior might have looked a little too much like Remus just before he left them all. Not long after that car accident.

Roman vaguely remembered downplaying it to them. At least Janus and Virgil left it alone, once they knew what he was doing. Logan and Vic seemed to be mildly intrigued. Patton followed him around more, whenever they were at the estate together.

Time inexorably marched on until eventually, when Roman returned to his Lair, he saw the spawn starting to hatch. He was so excited to see them emerge! They were fully formed, tiny drakes that made Roman make this strange rumbling purring noise at how they looked. He was taken by surprise by how adorable they looked, precociously galloping and gliding about inside his Lair.

One was a little more red and the other was a little more gold. Roman held the names Rubí and Oro, for them.

They were ready to debut into the real world.

-

Feel free to ask to be on a tag list, if you wish!

(I’ll probably tag every other cross-post.)

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[ Next ]

#spilled musing #sanders sides #begotten au #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders

[natsfirecat]

You’ve done this before, but omg I’m a sucker for them, so maybe Natasha has a nightmare and since Reader always make her feel better, she makes her way to readers room and tries to quietly lay next to her to not wake reader up. But reader does and comforts Natasha! ((Damn, pink eye? That sucks! 😖🥰))

Always

word count: 2.0k

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem reader

warnings: nightmares, lmk if i need to add any more

A/N protective readers i hope you like this cuz this is really for yall lmao-

“You have no place in the world, Natalia. Neither does she.”

“No! What are you doing?”

Laughter erupted from the other woman as she emerged from the shadows.

“You caused this, Natalia. Your ledger is gushing.”

She held her hand over her chest as her breathing quickened.

She stared at the floor, falling to her knees.

“Stop!” She cried, keeping her hand on her chest.

The woman laughed again, then walked around her.

The scene changed, and they were back in the Red Room.

“You did this to her, Natalia. Just another dot of red on your ledger,”

A gun appeared in her hands, aiming at the targets.

She hit them all perfectly of course, but her stomach dropped when the target became a person in a chair.

“Do it, you know you have it in you. Let her die at your hands,”

“No…”

The woman laughed again, then pulled the rag off of the person’s head.

Natasha fell to the floor again, as she looked into the terrified eyes on the person in the chair; it was you.

It was her girlfriend. It was the person she had grown to love over the past few months of being together. It was the person who made her feel safe. The person she wanted by her side forever.

And now, that person really was about to become just another dot of red on her ledger.

-

“No!” She woke up, rolling over immediately. Her entire body was drenched in sweat and she was clinging onto her pillow as if her life depended on it.

She glanced up to check the time, seeing that it was 3:30 in the morning.

Letting out a sigh, she rolled back over to lay on her back.

She’s okay. Natasha thought to herself. She’s fine. It was just a nightmare.

She was still breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling.

She tried to think of other things to distract herself, but every single one of her thoughts ended up bringing her back to those thoughts.

She had the gun in her hand, and was about to pull the trigger no matter how much she didn’t want to.

She was about to hurt the person she promised she would always protect.

“No,” she whisper-yelled, hugging her pillow even tighter.

At this point, tears began to stream down her face. Her breathing became shaky again as she wiped her tears away.

Natasha took a deep breath in, then walked out the door and headed for your room.

You hadn’t been together too long, just a little under six months. Natasha hadn’t directly told you she loved you yet, but she tried to tell you in other ways.

She would hold you close, stroking your hair, placing soft kisses on both your cheeks before you’d turn around and kiss her on the lips.

While the team was fighting, she would always try to be fighting right by your side so she could protect you. If she couldn’t be by your side, she’d glance over at you often to make sure you were okay, or check-in with you through the coms. If you were in any danger, she wouldn’t hesitate to disobey orders and go to you.

Whenever you had her listen to a song you liked, she would listen with just as much enthusiasm as you; even if she didn’t even like the song. It was worth it seeing your smile.

While you had your own separate rooms, there were definitely nights spent with the other. She would pull you close, wrapping her arms around you. Sometimes, you’d cling onto her like a koala, and she’d just give your forehead a gentle kiss as you stayed in one another’s embrace.

When you had confessed to her that you wanted to learn how to braid, she did your hair in front of a mirror, giving you details about everything she was doing. She then sat in front of you, and continued walking you through the process. When you accidentally pulled a few strands of hair, she winced, but said nothing. She reached back and placed her hand on your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze before you kissed the top of her head.

You trusted her completely, she could tell. It was comforting for her, having someone who thought of her the way you did.

She knew she loved you, but just couldn’t bring herself to tell you. If she admitted it, then it would change everything, and she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

You had actually told her you loved her last month. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t hurt that she didn’t say it back. You didn’t want to pressure her though, and told her to take all the time she needed.

Even if she couldn’t tell you, that just made her fall harder.

Now, Natasha stood at your door. Her hand hovered over the door handle for a few minutes, debating whether or not she should go in.

The logical part of her mind knew that you were okay, and she didn’t need to go in and make sure.

The other part of her mind was still reliving your screams in her head. That part was responsible for the trembling that was still happening in her hands. That part opened the door.

Plus, her heart was still racing. She wanted to be near you to be calm

She let out a sigh of relief as she saw the rise and fall of your chest as you lay sleeping.

Her breathing slowed, and she was finally able to relax a tiny bit.

-

Once again, Natasha was conflicted as she stared at your sleeping body.

Now that she knew you were okay, it was safe to go back to her own room. But, if she did, she was worried that her nightmare would come again.

So, she took a deep breath and took a step closer to you.

She then pulled the blankets back just a bit, then carefully slid into bed next to you.

Feeling calmer now, she leaned in and gently wrapped her arms around your waist. She didn’t want to wake you up, but she also wanted to feel close to you while she slept.

After a few moments of feeling herself getting more and more relaxed as she listened to your breathing, she smiled as drowsiness slowly started to overtake her once again.

Unfortunately, her moment was short-lived as you suddenly jolted awake, sitting up and turning to face her as fast as you could.

“Jesus, Nat,” you breathed out. “You scared me,”

“Sorry,” she mumbled, not making eye contact.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you replied, putting your hand on her cheek as she sat up too. You frowned once you felt the wetness from the tears that had been there earlier. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine,”

You let out a sigh, stroking her cheek with your thumb until she finally met your eyes.

“Do you wanna talk about it or just go back to sleep?”

She thought for a moment, thinking about how safe she felt with you.

“I was dreaming,” she started, which you nodded both in response and to indicate for her to continue. “I was back in the Red Room. I had no control over what I was doing, it was like my hands had a mind of their own,”

You saw tears swelling up in her already red eyes, so you reached your other hand over and connected it to one of hers, keeping your other hand on her cheek.

“I had to kill someone. It was like a memory at first, ‘cause it happened so many times. But then they revealed who the person was, and…” she couldn’t bring herself to finish as she leaned closer to you and buried her face in your neck.

You held her tight as she let out a few sobs, silently telling her that you were here.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Natty,” you said as you began to rub her back.

After a few more heartbreaking sobs, she pulled back to face you.

“It was you,” she said quietly. “I had to kill you, you were gone”

Your heart broke at the sight of her. You wished you could take away her pain.

“I’m so sorry your mind gave you that cruel nightmare,” you told her. “But I’m not going anywhere,”

She let out another sob before wrapping herself around you again.

“Promise?”

“I promise,”

That was all it took as she let out one final sob before her breaths began to calm. You kept one arm around her back, then began to stroke the back of her head with the other.

“Sorry for waking you up in the middle of the night like this,” she said after a few minutes.

“It’s okay,” you told her. “I don’t mind. I just want you to be happy and alright, so if you need to wake me up in the middle of the night for that, then it’s okay,”

Her heart began to race once again, but it wasn’t because of the nightmares.

It was because of the thought she’s had for awhile, but could never bring herself to tell you.

“I love you,”

Your heart skipped a beat. You had been wanting to hear those words for so long, but never wanted to pressure her into something she wasn’t ready for.

Now, here she was, in your arms confessing her love.

When you had told her that you loved her, it was in a similar position to this. She was holding you (although it wasn’t because you had a nightmare or anything like that, she was holding you just to hold you) and you looked up at her and realized that you wanted her in your life forever, and there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for her.

You smiled so widely at her, your cheeks were beginning to hurt.

“I love you too,” you told her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

She was now smiling just as wide as you.

“I love you,” she said again, resulting in a giggle from you. “Wow, it’s easier to say now that I’ve said it once,”

You laughed again, then leaned forward and connected your lips to hers.

It was almost difficult to kiss, considering the fact that neither of you could stop yourselves from smiling.

You both got on your knees so you could be closer to one another while kissing, wrapping your arms around each other. She had one hand around your back and the other around your neck, while you cupped her cheeks with both hands.

Soon enough, you began to lose your balance, pulling her down with you.

You now both lay on your sides, facing each other, unable to stop the laughter coming from both of you.

“God, I love you,” she said yet again. “Sorry, you’re probably tired of hearing that now,”

“Never,” you told her, leaning in to give her a quick kiss before pulling back again. “I’m never gonna get tired of hearing you say it,”

“That’s good, because I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon,”

You connected both your hands to hers, staring at her for a few moments of comfortable silence.

“Thank you for trusting me enough to come to me, Nat,” you told her, rubbing small circles on her palms.

“Thank you for being the first person who made me feel safe enough to come to you,”

She leaned in and connected your lips once more, completely attaching herself to you.

“I’ll always protect you, just like you protect me,” you told her.

“Always?”

“Always.”

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff hurt comfort #natasha romanoff hurt/comfort #soft natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x yn #black widow x reader #black widow x fem reader #natalia alianovna romanova

[highdramas]

the world’s a little blurry | b.b.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: none

word count: 2107

summary: bucky is home, and he is yours

note: this is a one shot for now, but i definitely have more ideas for these two <3 this’ll be heavily inspired by tfatws so this is a spoiler warning for anything mentioned! also this is my first time writing bucky so pleaseeeeee give me some mercy lol

enjoy! <3

it’s nearly three in the morning, and you’re lucky if you stay up past midnight, so bucky makes a point to be quiet as he tiptoes into the apartment. after a mission gone awry in the apartment building where you had been neighbors, you’ve been staying with the superhero. something about not losing you and you’re safest here. bucky’s not stupid— caring about someone is a gamble, and it had become clear to his enemies who exactly it was that he cared about.

living with you came lots of things that bucky was not expecting. first off, you’re very cluttered. you call it controlled chaos, he calls it a mess. he’s fascinated by the state of your night stand, mostly. a dying plant and one loose airpod, two half empty water bottles, an empty starbucks cup.

second off, you have a cat. her name is katherine, but you call her kitty, occasionally kiki. and while bucky had been determined not to get attached, after awhile, it was difficult not to. she rubbed up on his legs, cuddled in his lap on the couch, slept on his chest in the middle of the night. she’s fucking adorable, and not even the winter soldier can deny that.

third off… you. you as a whole. he’s sure that it would’ve been a shock living with anyone, but the care that you give him… he’s not used to having someone making sure he’s eating. he’s not used to someone checking up on him throughout the day. he’s not used to having someone to come home to.

it’s nice.

it feels safe.

and he’ll kill anyone who tries to take this peace away from him.

bucky groans as he shucks his jacket off, feeling exactly where his muscles ache. he tries to keep his volume minimal. finally, he opens the door to the bedroom. the bedroom that you share.

this was the biggest adjustment of all.

he’d barely slept in a bed at all before you came along. too soft, too comfortable. he told you as much that first night, and what you had said shocked him.

“well, i’ll just sleep on the floor with you.”

no, oh, just get in bed. no, c’mon, it’s nice. none of those things. just understanding.

but it was more than understanding. it was meeting him exactly where he was.

that was three months ago, and you had kept your word. if you weren’t sleeping on the floor with him, you were on the couch with your hand tangling down, brushing along his hair, his shoulder. every time he felt you bucky swore that he could cry.

it was two months ago that he suggested you both sleep in the bed. and while it wasn’t every night, and some nights he padded out to the living room with a blanket and pillow… it was progress.

and he would wake up to find that you had joined him on the floor.

the nightmares weren’t gone. he’s not sure if they ever would be. but they were growing few and farer between, and the ones he did have were growing more manageable.

things were getting better.

of course, they were not perfect. and he knew that you didn’t expect them to be. he has therapy once a week, sometimes twice during the particularly hard weeks. he’s grown close with sam and his family. and… you.

his girl.

as the door creaks open, he almost chuckles at the sight of you. you’re laying horizontally across the bed, taking up both your side and bucky’s. katherine is curled in at your chest, her nose nearly touching yours. your mouth is open and he can see that there’s a bit of drool in the corner of your mouth, and that does make him laugh. it stirs you and he freezes.

bucky watches as you slowly wake, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, and then rubbing the drool from your mouth. “ew,” you mumble, still half asleep, and bucky leans in the doorway wearing a smirk.

“go back to sleep, doll.”

you hum and stretch, and so does katherine, giving a wide yawn. “you’re home.”

home.

had he ever had a home before? 

he did once, as a child. a time that feels so distant, so separate from the life that he leads now. sometimes, it’s hard to even picture the faces of his family members.

he had this apartment, but it never felt like home. not until you waltzed into it with your clutter and your laughter and your vibrancy. not until you cooked dinner hip to hip, not until you listened to music that he had never heard of, not until you watched some movie that was your favorite.

you’re home.

bucky smiles and he nods, sitting on the edge of the bed, pushing your hair back. “i’m home,” he says quietly. “i’m sorry i’m so late.”

you shake your head, your hand taking his. he still wears the gloves. you raise your eyebrows at him. “can i?”

he nods. you make quick work of removing each of his gloves, tossing them across the room, which makes bucky smile. he knows he’ll be picking those up in the morning. you press a kiss to his palm, the one that is flesh and bone. and then you take the other and do the same. “missed you, buck.”

something in his heart constricts as he watches you-- washed in moonlight that comes in through the window, sleepy smile on your face, eyes fixed on him. he knows that look, and he knows what it means. he doesn’t know if he deserves it, but he tries. he’ll always try for you.

“i wasn’t even gone twenty four hours,” the smirk is evident in his tone even if you can’t see it, but you scoff and roll your eyes. “i think you’re needy.”

“needy!” you repeat and laugh, falling back onto the pillow. kitty stirs and looks up at bucky, letting out a loud meow. “she’s the needy one. look at her.”

“both of you.” he scratches kitty’s head and then kisses the top of yours before he stands again. “i’m gonna shower.”

sleep is escaping you and you push yourself up onto your palms. “can i join you?”

he chews on the inside of his cheek and shrugs his shoulders innocently. “better pick up the pace then, soldier.”

with a laugh, you kick the sheets off of you. “yes sir.”

he rolls his eyes and you both shuffle into the bathroom. now, in the light, you’re able to get a good look at him. and your jaw drops slightly at what you see. “bucky,” you say and he already knows what’s coming. you touch the side of his face where a bruise is blossoming. “how the hell does this even happen?”

“part of the gig.”

you groan and he smiles and he does so because he loves you. he loves your mess and he loves your doting, he loves your cat and he loves coming home to see that you’ve taken up the entire bed. “you’re an old man. one of these days you’re gonna have to retire.”

“got unfinished business first.”

you know of his past. of course you do. although, you’re a firm believer that it’s not his past, rather than a past that was decided for him against his will. you’ve made a point of making your stance in that clear. you have heard stories of what bucky has done, but you have tutted and shaken your head. “what hydra did.”

these are the things that bucky tells himself, but it is different to hear it from someone else. someone who is not steve, or sam, or another avenger who has also committed morally grey acts. because, yes, they are all good and trustworthy and worth listening to-- but you. you are his girl. you are his girl who laughs at his jokes and teases him and never once babies him for what happened to him, but you’re also the girl who has woken him from nightmares, who has tended to his wounds, who has been held back from a fight just to defend his honor. you have seen him in his entirety, and you have never balked.

“alright, well--” it’s not lost on you how his eyes trail down your body as you undress, turning on the water and checking the temperature. “as soon of this business of yours is finished…”

“i know.”

the two of you share a look and he gives a crooked grin. “you look nice.”

“there’s dried drool on my face.”

“yeah, i know.”

it’s been nearly a year since you met james buchanan barnes and yet he still gets you to blush. he practically lights up at the sight of the color on your cheeks. “are you--”

“shut up and get in the shower,” you retort, pulling back the curtain and stepping into the steaming water.

“yes, ma’am.” you hear the shuffling of his clothes falling to the floor and then he is behind you, hands going up and down your arms. you let out a sigh and tilt your head back, peering up at him. water trails down his nose, dripping off and onto your forehead.

you don’t tell bucky, but you do worry. you worry every second that he’s gone on a mission. you know that you don’t have to say it, that he knows. and you trust that he will come home to you. bucky turns you and he holds your face in his hands and he presses his lips to yours and you know that he feels the same way.

i’ll always come back is spelled out in the way that he kissed you, the way that he holds the back of your head. we have forever is heaved from your lungs as he sucks the air from you.

when you part, you smile at his lips-- slightly swollen, pinker than normal. you rub your thumb along the bottom one and he catches your hand. he presses it on his chest, right where his heart hides beneath skin and bone. “you don’t have to do all of this to make up for what they did to you,” you say over the sound of water. “you’re allowed to have a normal life, if you want it.”

“i know.” he pushes a piece of wet hair from your face. “i just don’t--” he shakes his head and you know this all too well-- he doesn’t quite know what to say, he starts closing up and off and away, the high walls that guard his heart and mind beginning to take shape. “i feel like if i don’t… what was it all for?”

delicate hands move across his torso. you lather up a loofah and begin washing away blood and grime. “bucky,” you say and he looks at you, steely blue eyes staring right into yours. “you make people happy. you have people who love you, who care for you. you don’t owe the world reparations.”

he winces as you go over a particular bruise and you slow your movements, make them featherlight. “all i know is,” you begin. “whatever it is you want, whatever it is that fulfills your life… make sure it’s for you.”

a smile curls on his face and he stills your hands. “thank you.” he takes the loofah from you. “let me get you.”

“but i’m not done--”

“please. let me.”

you surrender and he begins to wash you, and your forehead falls to his shoulder, calm washing over your body. you could’ve been standing there for minutes or hours, you’re unsure. he pushes your hair back and at some point you realize that he is washing your hair, and you press gently open mouthed kisses against his chest and you hear his breath catch and you fall in love with him all over again.

“let me get yours--” you mumble around a yawn and you watch as he smirks down at you. “really, let me.”

bucky shakes his head and he turns the water off. “tomorrow,” he says.

you towel off and when you clamber into bed, you feel the weight of him beside you, your cat nestled between the both of you. you feel him pull you into him, his breath against your neck and his lips against your pulse point, and your eyes flutter shut. before sleep captures you, you murmur, “i love you, james bucky barnes.”

the feeling of his smile against your skin is imprinted on your heart, and his words coax you into sleep-- “i love you too, doll.”

bucky barnes sleeps through the night and doesn’t wake once.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #my writing #the world's a little blurry #eeeee i'm so excited to post thissssss