#glass house: a keys out mystery

[henreyettah]

Lil (actually not so lil) wip I’ve got going

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 1

James Potter x Reader

Summary: You had always been the sort to keep to yourself, never expecting any attention. That is until a mysterious letter is slipped under your door…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, reader plays hard to get without intending to, idiots in love, oc!friends, lovesick!james x salty!reader, reader low key hates James at the beginning but it’s for the plot I swear! No use of Y/N, reader is in the girls’ dorms but gender is rarely specified, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.4K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Summer shifted with a gust of wind, dragging with it the soft chill of the Scottish coast. The leaves turned from emerald to amber, marking the start of your final year at Hogwarts.

Gryffindor had instilled a sense of courage in you, one that you often left at home when returning to the brooding towers that form your school. So, with the brewing feeling of newfound bravery in your heart, you approached the Gryffindor common room with the mentality that this will be your year.

The crowded floor of the comforting common room was painted with school shoes and flashes of red as your fellow house members danced in a flurry of reunions and affections. Yeah…this will be your year. Once you figure out how to socialise without cringing from embarrassment.

You shifted past the cliques and gangs, attempting to find your more resolved group of companions. Standing on the stairs by the girls’ dorms was the sight you were hoping for.

“Charlie! Hope!” You called, striding over to your much loved roommates.

“I’m surprised you survived the stampede down there, come to safety!” Charlie joked with open arms, guiding you into a warm embrace.

“Seems like the summer didn’t do much for the maturity in this house…” Hope muttered into your shoulder as she joined the reunion, glancing at the chaos ensuing behind you.

Charlie and Hope were your personal lifelines, a combination of wits and humility that allowed you to embrace the more tentative side of yourself. You first bonded over your shock discoveries as Gryffindors, as opposed to your predicted places in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. While none of you were sure of why or how you found yourselves in the house of courage and bravery - or as you often called it, the pit of egos and self-righteousness - you certainly found a home between the pair, never stepping outside the social boundaries of your timid trio.

You marched towards the comfort of your dorm, arms linked with your companions and back turned to a pair of unacknowledged, watchful eyes, shaded by rounded glasses.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

James often found hellos to be even harder than goodbyes, a swelling of tears and joy erupting from the boy’s face the second he laid his golden eyes on his mischievous friends. Sirius, Remus and Peter lined the couch territorially, leaving space in the middle for one James Potter to jump into in excited greeting.

“Prongs! We thought you’d never show!” Exclaimed Sirius in a lighthearted tone, smirking at the boy’s glowing grin. “Glad to see us, then?”

“Oh Pads, you know I’d never miss a single day with you by my side if I had the choice!” James met his friend’s playful tone, though his genuine affection shone through the string of words he praised. He found comfort against the back of the couch, bursting into a ramble of “how are you?”, “I missed you” and “what did you do over the summer?” which the other Marauders dutifully answered with similar excitement.

James was busy engaging with Sirius’ vengeful tale of redeeming himself through a series of pranks planned for the coming school year when he found himself glancing towards a familiar figure above the crowd. Your hair reflected the light of the room, almost as if an angel’s halo surrounded your head. Your face, lit up with familiarity at your friends’ embrace, caused a physical reaction from the boy as his lips parted. Had you gotten even more hauntingly beautiful since the last year? James didn’t think it was possib-

“Pro-ongs, I think it’s about time you made a move on that lovely little bird, don’t you?” Sirius sang, inching closer to the captivated face of his friend. A light dusting of peachy blush turned dark on his cheeks under the sudden attention. “I- what? W-who?” James laughed, though he knew full well that his friends had caught onto his not-so-little crush years ago.

“I mean, if she’s so distracting that you can’t even focus on one of the most engaging plots for revenge ever crafted by the master of mischief,” Sirius gestured to himself, “then I don’t see why you shouldn’t try for an actual conversation with her. Moony here was just agreeing with me before you arrived, weren’t you, sweet stuff?”

Sirius turned to the boy sitting on the other side of the young Potter as Remus nodded in reserved agreement. “I know you think she’d never go for a boy like you, James, but Sirius has a point.” Remus advised. James considered his friends’ logical conclusions, realising he should probably come to the same.

There’s not long left, Potter, he told himself. We’ll graduate and the only person you’ve ever really felt something for will be out of your grasp forever. It’s now or never. “Ok…ok, I’ll do it. This will be the year. This will be my year.” James responded, eyes still lingering on you as you walked towards your dorm, slowly shrinking in his line of sight. His friends cheered in satisfied agreement. This will be his year. The year he shares with you.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Unpacked trunks and flittering gossip filled your dorm room walls as you giggled with your loyal friends. “So…any chance one of you might pursue a love life for once?” Hope teased, despite her own lack of romantic involvement. Charlie let out a scoff, grinning her lopsided grin at Hope’s curiosity. “Certainly not in this house, but there might be a few lucky souls in the others who could try to keep up with me.” She laughed with you and Hope, basking in the joy that only you three could harvest from one another.

“Any boys catch your eye? Oh! Maybe any girls?” Hope turned the question to you as you hid a laugh behind your hand. “Some of these kids might as well just date themselves at this point! I mean, how can you love yourself that much and leave any room to love someone else?” You cried, exasperation shaping your tone. “Are we talking about who I think we’re talking ab-“ “OH you mean the Marauders!?” Charlie exclaimed, interrupting Hope’s more subtle approach to the subject.

“Of course I’m talking about those good for nothing clowns,” You responded, “They’re too preoccupied with themselves to even notice anyone else! On the last week of the last year, Sirius managed to shove me into a wall in the hallway without blinking an eye. He was too caught up in his own reflection in the polished floor to notice! Remus and Peter turn a blind eye to all the mischief their friends cause, and only if they themselves aren’t involved. And that boy, James Potter…” You continue your ranting, “it’s like there’s no thoughts behind that smug face of his! He bumped into me as we both attempted to exit through a classroom door at the same time, pushing my books out of my arms and onto the floor. I looked at him expectedly for some sort of sign to show he was apologetic, but he just stood and stared at me wide-eyed! That is, before he scurried away as if he was suddenly half his own size, looking like a rodent in an athlete’s body!”

Charlie and Hope shared a knowing look when you commented on the last Marauder’s appearance, communicating a silent assumption that you weren’t quite as annoyed with the head boy as you were confused. “I digress…” you concluded with a flushed expression. “If any boy in this house even attempts to approach me I should hope for his sake that he’s matured at a rate faster than the speed of light over the summer, otherwise he doesn’t stand a-“

Pshhh.

All eyes in the room turn towards the door. A light blue envelope with dark ink scribbled on the front sat patiently at the base of the door, having just been pushed below from a mysterious source on the other side.

“…chance.” You finished, curiosity propelling your trio towards the unfamiliar object. Labeled on the front, communicating with newfound clarity now that you had closed the distance between yourself and the letter, was a boyish, unpolished mark of your name. Quiet settled on the three of you for a moment. “OH. MY. GOD!” Charlie exclaimed, snatching the paper from the floor and sprinting towards your bed. “Hey, wait for me! I want to read it too!” Hope pursued your friend. Lastly, you rose from your position on the floor and slowly approached the bed as your friends eagerly ripped open the letter.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: Thank you for reading! I intend on expanding this into a pretty fluffy series with James trying to win reader over ;) sorry for the slow chapter, it will get more eventful in future updates now that the context is established. Part 2 is up! Comment to be added to the taglist <3

[soxcietyy]

my request is yuta finding readers toys and testing it on her the next time they do the deed 🙏🙏

Rating’s

This is embarrassingly late, I’m so sorry 😭🙏🏼

Nobara comes over to your house with a mystery box just to be disappointed with the contents inside. Yuta shows up unexpected and seems very interested in it.

"Hey! Guess who finally got the goods! Can’t wait to see what’s in here." Nobara said as she stood in front of your door with a cardboard box in her hands. It took you a second to even figure out what in the world she was talking about. What plans could of you guys made that you had forgotten about?

Ah yes last week she had mentioned that she made a new friend who owned a company. He said that he needed people to review his new products before he could launch them in his shop. Before he could reveal what it was Nobara stopped him, telling the guy that she wanted it to be a surprise. She promised to run over here once she received the package so you guys could be surprised together.

"What do you think it could be? Clothes? Food? Candy? Skincare? Makeup?!" Nobara said excitedly as she squeezed passed you. She didn’t need permission to enter because she would barge in even if you said no.

Walking into your apartment she decided to put the box on the coffee table. A loud thud could be heard as it made contact with the glass top. She took a seat on the floor as she waited for you, excited to see what was inside. She almost looked like a kid eager to open there gift. That would have to wait a second though. Walking to the kitchen you grab some wine glasses and a bottle so you guys could enjoy together. Whatever it was would go perfectly with a cold bottle of wine.

"Hurry up!" She says as she crosses her arms.

Yyou let out a sigh as you lean on the island, then you tell her to open the tape up while you poured drinks.

"I’m so excited!" Nobara says as she pulls out her keys and drags it across the tape to tear it open. While she did that you opened the bottle and poured the drinks into the glass. Once you had finished you approach her and place the cups down. Nobara didn’t want to waste anymore time, she pulls you towards her so you could look above the box with her.

"Okay I’m going to open it in three, two, one."

She opens the box to reveal what’s inside. Both of you look at each other in shock. It was a box full of toys and they weren’t the kid friendly ones. You put your hand inside and pull out a pink silicone toy in the shape of a male body part. You couldn’t help but crack a smile at your friend.

"That disgusting monster!" She says in disbelief.

"Hey now, I’m sure he was going to tell you what it was before you stopped him." You say defending the man.

She rolls her eyes as she sits back down on the floor with her legs crossed. As she continued to pout you pull out some lube that was brand new and sealed. You quirk your brow as you read the flavor of the lube, popcorn… interesting.

"Common Nobara this isn’t bad at all! You don’t get laid enough so I think this could help you out." You tease.

"Ha Ha, very funny y/n" she stood up abruptly and started to walk away.

You furrow your brows as you turn to look at her. "Where are you going?" You ask

"I’m not intrested in this kind of stuff, you’ll probably use it well. Your man probably doesn’t satisfy you enough so have fun." She says throwing shade back. As she opens the door you see someone standing in the door way. Her jaw drops when she noticed it was Yuta.

Speak of the devil.

"Uh y/n … Yuta is here."

You quickly put everything back and kick the box on the floor behind you once you heard those words fall out her mouth. You had forgotten that he mentioned coming over today. You didn’t need him finding such things in your house, he’d get the wrong idea. You scramble to stand up with the glass of wine still in your hand. Taking a sip of your drink you run to the front door. To find him with a concerned look.

"You okay? You look pale." Yuta steps inside and holds your face to examine it.

You kindly put his hands down and assure him you’re fine. Your friend on the other hand had already made her escape. Seems like she didn’t want to be apart of what might happen in he finds the box.

Shutting the door behind him you watch him make his way to your couch. Maybe he would ignore the box. You had it closed so he wouldn’t open it right? He tends to respect your privacy after all.

You stood by the door watching him anxiously walk past the box. He took a seat and turned his attention to the tv that had drama playing. You sigh in relief seeing he had no interest in the box.

"You want some wine? Nobara didn’t even take a sip out of hers, it would be a waste." You say heading towards him.

"Yea I’ll drink it but could you please bring me some cheese and crackers? You know I cant have wine without them." He asks you nicely as he sat up from the couch to take a whiff of the wine.

You make your way in the kitchen and start making him his plate. While you did that you could hear him shuffling around, most likely getting comfortable. You couldn’t help but look over him a few times as you were occupied. Eventually you got fully focused on cutting the slices perfectly that you forgot to check on him. While cutting last bit of cheese you decide to look up but when you did the knife in your hand drops. Yuta was sitting on the couch with the box in his hands wide open.

He looked at you and the box back to back until he decided to place the box down to approach you. He had a concerned look on his face as he grabbed your hands.

"Am I not enough? You could told me this, no need to resort to that kind of stuff." He says with a sad tone.

You couldn’t help but stare blankly at him.

"N-no! Yuta you have the wrong idea. Nobara came over to drop thoes off so me and her could test them out." You say panicked.

You watch as his jaw drop from disbelief. Of course you worded it wrong. "Her friend owns a company and they have these new products! He needs a review before he drop it. Of course we’re not going to test them out together! Apart because we’re not like that."

He drops your hand feeling at ease with your answer.

"I’m relieved but you’re going to use these on your own? I doubt you would know how to use them." Yuta said as he walked to the box and pulled out a rose toy. Turning it in different directions so he could get a good look at the weird contraption.

"I’m more than capable of figuring it out." You roll your eyes.

He stalks back towards you as he held a wand vibrator in his hands. Bringing it near him mouth to use it as a microphone. "Two reviews are better than one." Yuta says as in the "mic" .

Putting the wand down next to the cutting board he pulls out the rose, clearly being interested in that one the most. He lifted you up and sat you on the counter you down on the counter. Pulled your night gown up as he tried to figure out how to turn on the flower.

Grabbing it from his hand you slowly direct your finger towards the power button so he could see. Once you pressed it, it started to vibrate in your hands letting out a humming noise. He quickly grabbed it to feel the vibration in his hands. A small smile appeared on his face as he put it against his hand.

"This has power." He says as he felt how strong and fast it was. Bring his hand down he tried to put it against your privates but you stopped him by covering the area.

"You’re not going to wash it first?" You looked at him.

He quickly turned on the faucet that was next to you and washed it with soap and water. He came back immediately to not ruin the mood. He then brings up the toy to his mouth and begins to lick it.

You were in disbelief from his actions. He was licking it and swirling his tongue on it as he pulled your panties to the side. He then pressed it on you once he was satisfied with the wet coat he had just created it. You jolt at the sudden vibration it created. You bite your cheek as you grab into his shoulder for support. You never really used something like this because there was no need. Yuta managed to satisfy your needs easily so this was entirely new to you.

Yuta would gradually go fast and faster until you were at your climax but this toy got to the point. It didn’t take long before your legs are shaking and your grip on him tightened. You begged him to not press it up your bran to hard but he didn’t listen. Instead he studied your facial expressions and mocked you when you would open your mouth from pleasure. Asking if you like this better than him.

You would shake your head but he didn’t stop. He was clearly trying to teach you some sort of lesson but it wasn’t getting quite through. Not even ten minutes passed and you were orgasming in his hand.

"Five stars" he says as he walks away.

While you try to catch your breath you find him Infront of you once again. You were surprised he came back so quickly. He saw your struggle to get down so he helped you down with one hand. You lean onto him as you try to regain your composure but he gave you little to no time as he bent you over the counter and shoved something in you.

You gasp at the sudden familiar feeling of being full. It wasn’t as filling as you were used to taking but it still felt amazing Turning back at him you see Yuta with an intrigued look. He pulled out the object out of you and slammed it back inside. You let out a loud cry from pleasure. He then pulls it in and out in a steady pace as he watched you squirm. You beg him to slow down In between moans.

You try to grip onto the counter as he pounded you with the toy. Hitting the right spot over and over again.

"This mouth was so hungry for something huh? Look at her drooling all over this toy." Yuta says as your juices run down his hand. You close your eyes out of embarrassment. Your legs loosing the will to support you in the process. Yuta was quick to catch you before you could fall.

He ended up paying on the couch While resting your body on his chest. You relaxed in his embrace until you felt the toy go back inside you. You look up at him with an annoyed look.

"What? We need to rate this toy. Won’t be possible until you finish." He kisses your head as continued were he left off. You grip his shirt as he started slamming the silicone toy in you. Body jolting everytime he dug it deep inside your body. Was he really planning on testing everything out on you? There was no way anyone could go through such a box. That’s at least twenty five orgasms in one go.

Another orgasm rippled through your body. You moan out his name as you grab his arm that was helping move the toy in and out of you.

"Seven, took you way too long to orgasm. Even I can do it in less time, it got the job done though. 3 stars."

"No more" you croak out in desperation.

"Why not? We just got started." Yuta sits you on you couch.

You pull your dress down with a flushed face.

"I can do the rest in my own with my own pace. Plus these toys are usually meant for self pleasure. It wouldn’t be fair to rate them together." You say hoping that wound stop him from continuing.

"Oh" he says "then masturbate with them."he says.

"I will, eventually." You say as you grab the toy Yuta was using as a microphone not too long ago.

"Do it right now, Infront of me." He tilts his head.

You look at him shocked.

"I couldn’t possibl-"

He grabs your hand with the toy and pushes it down there. You swallow hard as he looked into your eyes.

"I won’t touch you. I won’t bother you." He smiles as he sits on the couch opposite from you. "I’ll just sit here."

You bite your lip as he tells you to go on. You have no choice but to listen. Pulling your panties down you put your legs on the couch. Spreading them apart until he had a full view of everything. You watch as his hands roam on his pants. Caressing his member that rested under those pants.

Closing your eyes you turn on the device and put it on your bud. You let out a shameful moan out immediately because you were already so sensitive. You rubbed it up and down your area. Hips rolling back and forward from pleasure.

It felt so good but something was missing. You couldn’t think of what it could be. Maybe more of a stronger vibration? A faster speed? A better shape? Or maybe it was the man Infront of you.

You let out whimpers as you open your eyes too look at him. He was sitting down watching you pleasure yourself from afar. Eyes not looking away from you even for a second. You couldn’t help but wish for him to touch you and to do more.

"Yut-a" you flutter your eyes at him.

He tried his best not to respond since he said he wasn’t going to bother you but the look you were giving him made him turn on his words.

"Yes baby?" He asks.

"I want you to do it form me." You say.

Yutas leg jolted from excitement but he knew he shouldn’t. Still he stood up and approached you. Sitting on the floor right in front of you.

"Common baby you can do it." He says moving your hand a bit lower so you could get a better position on it. The small movement made a huge difference. You were now squirming like crazy. Legs twitching uncontrollably. All that came out your mouth now was your moaning and small profanity’s. Yutas name coming out time by time which he loved.

"Such a good girl, come for me no?"

He said as he kissed your thighs up and down, trying not to intervene too much. You cry out his name once more as you came. Body completely shutting down on you. Yuta was quick to move the toy out the way and bury his face in between your legs.

"Y-Yuta!?" You squeal

You tried to push him away but he was not moving until he decided he was. He ended up eating you out until he left you clean.

"Sorry I couldn’t help myself."

[buttercandy16]

SEDUCED BY MY STEPMOTHER

(R E M A K E)

PAIRING: Agatha Harkness x Reader

SUMMARY: After four years, the reader's father introduces his new fiance to the family - who turns out to be an alluring and mysterious seductress who is set to shake up the lives of the reader and their loved ones in ways they never could have imagined.

WARNING(s): None... yet!

A/N: This is one of my old stories that wattpad deleted. I decided to do some slight remake to it, character wise and all.

Should I continue this?

Y/N POV

I stood close to the balcony, staring at the beautiful view of the setting sun to clear my head. I  just recently found out that for the last few months my beloved father has been seeing someone in secret. On this warm evening, I’ll be meeting her for the first time at dinner. It was finally time that he did so I guess since he’s been widowed for almost 4 years already since my mother died from a car crash. But even with that certain thought I can’t help but feel uneasy about the changes that are about to happen. Hopefully, whoever she is, she’ll be a good one, for my father and also for me.

“Hurry up Y/N, or we’ll be late!” My deep thoughts were disturbed when I heard my father’s voice calling me from downstairs. I guess it’s finally time to leave.

Standing in front of the mirror I straightened my mid-white dress while checking my hair for the last time before grabbing my shoulder bag and went running downstairs.

“No running in the house young lady! How many times do I have to tell you that?” By the end of the stairs stood my father Frank, looking more dashing than usual while wearing his expensive black suit and tie.

“Sorry dad, just didn’t want you to call out for me again” I responded while giving a sheepish smile.

He gave me a playful eye roll as he grabbed my hands and gave each of my knuckles a chaste kiss.

“I appreciate that you’re willing to do this for me, sweetheart. I know this is not easy for you” he said while still holding both of my small hands in his large ones.

“Anything for you dad, as long as she makes you happy,” I said while I gave him a reassuring smile.

“She does, she really does. Now let’s not keep her waiting, shall we?” Dad smiled as he led both of us to his car.

I really do hope so dad…

(A few moments later)

We finally arrived at the restaurant after a 30-minute drive. Dad left his car keys to the valet and went straight inside while I followed close behind.

A male waiter in his 20s led us to a secluded part of the restaurant where a single square table was set beside a huge glass window that oversees the beautiful night streets. I was so caught up with the dancing lights outside that I failed to notice the beautiful woman sitting at our table.

That is until I heard a velvet-like voice calling out my name.

“Hello Y/N, I’m Agatha Harkness. It’s nice to finally meet Frank’s special girl”

My eyes looked for the owner of the angelic voice and they immediately settled on a beautiful woman in a purple dress. I can’t help but admire the beauty in front of me from head to toe. She is breathtaking. Aside from her physical appearance, I can also smell her intoxicating scent from where I stand. I’m in awe, I’ve never met someone as attractive as her before. I was about to look her over again but I was interrupted when I felt my father’s arm on my shoulder.

“Y/N, aren’t you gonna say something?” daddy asked.

“Umm…”

Due to being lost in my own thoughts, I became speechless as I looked up at my father’s questioning gaze before settling my vision on Agatha’s. Her eyes… oh her eyes… held something dark and mischievous that made me shiver to the core. I caught a small glimpse of the subtle smirk on her rosy lips before it disappeared.  That’s when I realized that she must’ve caught me while I was checking her out. Oh, fudge how embarrassing!!

I immediately shook out from my thoughts and shakily offered my right hand for her to take.

“Um... It’s nice to meet you too Miss Harkness” I gave her a shy smile which she reciprocated by giving me a radiant smile before correcting me. “Agatha, will do, sweetheart”.

She took my hand in her slender ones and gave it a soft squeeze. Her hand was so soft and it looked a little bigger compared to mine, she held my hand a little longer than she should have, which almost caused my heart to burst out from its ribcage before she decided to finally let go.

My father then ushered us to take a seat but before he got to do so, Agatha called out to him.

“Hon, did you forget something?” She asked with one eyebrow up.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Silly me” my father went towards her and gave her a kiss on the lips. It was supposed to be a chaste one but before he can step away she grabbed the back of his neck to hold him in place and then deepened the kiss.

I was going to look away because the sudden intimacy made me uncomfortable but before I could, I found myself frozen on my chair and my breath coming in short and hot when I saw her giving my father a passionate kiss…while her eyes were devouring mine.

What. the. actual. hell?!

_-_-_-_

Thoughts?

[tojipie]

I love your prison bf toji series so much!! Also, in the newest installment of the series Toji says that Shiu has had a crush on the reader for a while? I’d love to see how this crush developed, how Toji found out and how Shiu dealt with his feelings!!

ughhhhgghgg i love this prompt so much :(( bless your heart you’re a genius <3

prison bf toji series linked here <3

context ! -> fic takes place very early on in reader and toji’s relationship. this is pre-prison and at a point where he hasn’t introduced him to his men yet :D hopefully this makes sense !

content: fem reader, brief piv smut, mentions of incarceration, objectification of reader by stranger, fluff, they make up dw ! jealousy, angst, unrequited love

purple hickeys bloom across your chest as toji makes his way from shoulder to shoulder, pinching bouts of delicate skin between his teeth while length ruts into you.

the drag of his cock is delicious, hitting that special spot at just the right angle from the way he has you laid out on the couch, both legs thrown over his shoulder with your head propped up on a cushion.

toji was always like this after securing a deal at work, soft, sensual, taking his time with your body as an act of celebration. half-empty glasses of champagne still lie on the coffee table where you’d left them, leaving rings of cool sweat on the glass surface.

“gonna cum,” he groans, pulling away from your neck with a pop and blowing cool air against the saliva-soaked hickey. you squirm at the stimulation, throwing your head back as your high creeps up on you t— was that a key in the door?

toji pulls out of you with unmatched speed, reaching for a couch cushion to shield his manhood. he rucks a throw blanket over your body with a string of curses, using his massive build to hide the silhouette of your body from view. 

“what’d i tell you about waltzing into my fucking house?” your boyfriend yells, staring down the suit-clad stranger with a look that screams blood-lust.

the smile that breaks out on the man’s face is nothing short of filthy, eyeing you up and down like a piece of meat

“awww didya get us a hooker boss-man?” he sneers, cigarette hanging from his lips. “could’ve waited till i showed up to start but i’m down for whatever.” he laughs, gingerly placing a pristine briefcase on the coffee table before taking your discarded bottle of champagne as a parting gift.

“don’t have too much fun, alright?” he teases, stepping out the door as quickly as he’d come in.

the two of you are speechless for several minutes, looking back and forth between each other, the door he didn’t even bother to close, and the mystery briefcase you’re not sure you want to see opened. 

toji sits up with a string of curses, stalking over to kick the door shut with a sigh. 

“that’s.. shiu,” he mumbles, clearly embarrassed. 

you sit up from your spot on the couch, letting the blanket guarding your modesty slip down to your waist. toji settles down on the opposite side of the couch, arms outstretched to let you climb onto his naked form. 

“handles money,” he clarifies, tracing abstract shapes onto your spine. “my cut from today is in the case.”

“do you trust him?” 

he nods, resting his head in the crook of your neck with a sigh.

you figure that’s all you need to know.

˚ ✧ ──────────────────────

the apology shiu gives you the next time you meet goes on for ten minutes. variations of “fuck i didn’t know” and “i’m so so sorry i really am” spill from his lips while he bows at your feet, forehead firmly pressed to the wood floor of your dining room.

toji sits at the head of the table, shoveling bites of dinner into his mouth in between heart laughs.

“mmf— tell her again i don’t think she heard ya.”

the truth is you’d kind of forgotten about your boyfriend's right hand after the incident was over. was the hooker comment uncalled for? sure, but judging by the saturated fear in the suit-clad man’s eyes you figure toji had done something to set him straight.

plus you’d both gone two more rounds after the initial embarrassment had died down, making up for the little roadblock on your path to an orgasm. 

“it’s okay, promise,” you say quietly, not entirely sure what to say at this point. the suit-clad man stands again, bowing to both of you with a sigh. 

“now give her our little present,” toji says, stalking over with his arms crossed. 

a sealed bottle of champagne— the same kind he’d so graciously swiped from your home— is placed in the palm of your hands before you’re able to question either of them. 

you shoot the other man a greatful smile, and shiu realizes he quite likes the feeling of your soft hand shaking his.

˚ ✧ ──────────────────────

toji’s annual new year party was a sight to behold. alcohol, dancers, and booming music was the typical atmosphere, though the event had taken a complete turn once you’d entered the picture. 

gone were the days of loose dollar bills and stray panties littering the floor, the smell of sex and smoke in the air.

in were the days of… a modest bar and fancy catering, much to his men’s dismay.

toji didn’t quite know how to throw a party that could be deemed “professional” but he figured not having strippers at the house might’ve been a step in the right direction. some of the guys even brought their wives this time, fun right?

and so, toji sits toward the back of the room, watching you socialize with a drink in hand, his best friend beside him. 

tension hangs in the air as both men watch you from afar. one with pride, the other with longing.

“do you want her?”

“… what?”

toji doesn’t elaborate on the cryptic question, peering at his friend over the rim of his glass.

shiu pauses, downing the rest of his drink as he thinks of what to say. a warm hand settles on the meat of his shoulder, letting him know it’s ok.

“yeah man, i do,” he admits, too ashamed to look up from the floor.

greed. the word that’d graced toji’s knuckles since the day he turned 19. black ink needled into a canvas of tan skin, bleeding into the rest of the tattoos like water flowing upstream. 

it fit him perfectly. it did then, and it does now. toji always gets what he wants, regardless of how other people feel. a man overcome by what he believes he deserves. 

the hug he’s pulled into isn't filled with malice. the threat of violence isn’t there, unlike the time toji had taken him by the collar and threatened to gut him like a fish over the comments shiu had made the first time he met you. 

this hug is.. soft. inviting. an embrace that tells him “it’s okay, i trust you.” the fact that toji hasn’t bashed his nose into his skull is a telltale sign that there’s no fault in feeling the way he does, so long as he doesn’t act on it.

shiu truly doesn’t know what to say other than yes, he does want you. he wants you to be the one he comes home to each night, he wants your soft skin on his, wants to spoil you and make you smile.

you were kind, attentive, shy at times. the complete opposite of toji and his brutish demeanor. a flower cradled in the hand of a dragon.

but you weren’t his, and you never would be. not when toji had been the one to sweep you off your feet, securing a place for himself in your heart that shiu could never fill. 

and that was ok. he was here for his job, not you. shiu was fine with you being oblivious to his feelings, in fact, it was better that way for the three of you.

that’s exactly why he breaks away from the hug as you pad over to their table, shooting you both an apologetic smile before heading over to the bar. as long as he’d still be able to catch a glimpse of you every now and then, he’d live. 

edit: forgot abt the taglist oopsies 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82 @freebananabeard @vivian-555 @kentokaze @subarusuguru @aroxwq @i-literally-cant-with-this @emikokomura @moonriseoverkyoto

[free-boundsoul]

Currently imagining Treasure staring at the door that had closed. Numbness radiating from their chest when they finally let their eyes drift from it to look around the apartment that they'd been in the midst of decorating for the holiday. They didn't do it last year, the relationship so new, they hadn't wanted to be too much that soon. But they'd thought it would be fun to celebrate this year with him, now that they were officially dating. Unspoken daydreams of cuddling together on the couch as they watched holiday movies, sharing a blanket and exchanging comments on the obvious troupes the movies used. Watching the snow float through the air as they strolled together at night, searching for the best decorated house.

They loved the holidays. The sense of family and belonging. Actually feeling appreciated by their friends because they always went all out to host the party. They knew everyone's favorite dishes and researched the best games. Spending months getting the best gifts within their budget was a challenge but it was fun. Now their friend group had splintered when they started to set up boundaries after their mysterious stranger had pointed out the imbalance in their relationship.

The breath that escaped them was shaky at that thought. Imbalance. Maybe that was their fault. Seeking relationships that weren't on even footing.

They really hadn't meant for those words to slip out. They were usually so good at keeping their thoughts to themself. Too afraid of rejection. Of hurting others that they overthought every word. But their tongue had loosened during their time with him. They'd thought it was a good development. They'd been able to speak up to the coworker that was such an ass. They'd been proud when he'd looked shocked and then apologetic.

They'd really just been trying to help. They could see how something was eating at him. They'd just wanted to give Porter a willing ear. Someone to lean on that he didn't have to worry about speaking out of turn with. Even if they didn't have his experience or his knowledge, they wanted to do something. Sometimes being able to voice your thoughts aloud to a willing, supportive ear could provide clarity.

Their eyes landed on a corner of wrapping paper that they'd hastily hidden under their bed when they'd gotten his text that he'd come over at their insistence. They knew how quickly he could get here, and that he could just come in with the key they'd given him. They reached beneath, their fingers curling around curved glass before they lifted the item up, cradling it in their hands.

They couldn't help themselves when they'd spotted the snow globe through a display of that curio shop. It had a faux antique look with the etchings on the base, the silver burnished in some places but shining in others. The color matching his eyes, darkening or lightening depending on his mood.

Inside was a little fairground. A striped tent for a circus with little animals. A carousel with horses that moved in a circle. But the centerpiece was what had drawn them to it. A ferris wheel that moved when they wound it up, the tinkling tune that played that familiar little song that most carousels used. The artificial snow swirled around peacefully as the first tear fell from their eye. They barely registered how cold the glass was as they held the gift to their chest, the feeling couldn't compare to how their heart felt like it was cracking.

How could they fix what they'd done wrong?

[swtsupernatural]

D.W || MYSTERY SPOT

Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Content Warning takes place a few weeks after 'Mystery Spot' 3.11, swearing, dean being dean, knives, and mentions of dean's death from 3.11.

Summary Angst, slow burn i think - Days have gone by and everyone in your town seem's to be on loop and you're the only one aware. Just as you're about to break down, two men in an Impala show up to lend a hand.

Ask @almostegg / @almosteggs : The brothers visit a new town that's stuck in a time loop. No one there is responsive and simply do their daily routine over and over again. Reader is the only one aware of what's happening and she is trapped within the town.

W.C. 2.2 k

Playlist: ♫ Picture Book - The Kinks, Bad Moon Rising - CCR, Your Love - Glass Animals

A.N. first ficcc so excited to finally get this up. enjoy <3 - claire

Gunnison, Colorado. It was meant to be a shortstop for the Winchester boys, mainly for gas and food. They were on the way to a hunt in Utah with what they figured was a Banshee, based on the news they’d heard at least. It was early November, and the temperature was declining everyday. People strolled through the small town in coats and scarves, cheeks pink from the cold. Dean could even see heat steaming off of Baby as he parked her at a random gas station.

“Oh, shit,” Sam muttered, his eyes leering over his book to see the bright orange symbol on Baby’s dash. Dean had just finished filling up his car and was inside the gas station purchasing a few bars and snacks from the teenager at the front. Sam came up behind his brother, his jaw clenched.

“Don’t tell me,” Dean muttered, tossing a random credit card to the cashier. 

“Car needs an oil change.” 

“Oh that’s just freaking great,” Dean turned to the cashier, a frown on his face. “Where’s the nearest car shop, kid?”

“It’s Steve’s Auto Parts, just down Terrace street on the left, but it’s closed right now.”

“Of course it is,” Dean signed. He looked at Sam through his brows before looking back at the kid. “Nearest motel?” 

“Now what, we just sit around all night until that damn shop opens in the morning?” Dean said through his teeth, tossing his back on the left bed. 

“Well, maybe we can actually get some sleep tonight. Relax, Dean, we’ll be on the road tomorrow before seven.” Sam searched through the restroom for supplies. Motel stops were the time to take things like towels, soap, and other stuff they could throw in Baby’s trunk in case they needed it. Sam sighed, finding nothing in the room except cracked walls and a small slab of used soap. “M’ gonna ask the front desk for some stuff, be right back.” Sam passed flickering hall lights, hearing conversations of guests through the thin walls.

“Good evening, sir, how may I help you?” 

“Hi, I just need some stuff for our room, thanks.” The woman at the front desk handed Sam two toothbrushes, some toothpaste, and a couple towels.  

“Have a goodnight. Oh, I completely forgot when you checked in.” She reached below the desk, opening a few drawers before handing him a pamphlet. “If you’re looking for some places in town to visit, here's a guide.” The town didn’t often house anyone but locals, not having a large population or many visitors at that. It seemed like everyone knew each other. 

Sam nodded, “Thanks, goodnight.”

“Have a great night, sir.”

The next morning the two woke up at six, the motel alarm blaring an ugly, distasteful BEEP-ing sound. They both packed the little they had swiftly, heading out though the creaking door. At the front desk, the same woman from last night stood stock-still; that same fake-looking smile on her face. 

“Goodmorning, folks, how may I help you?” 

“Just checking out,” Sam put the keys on the desk. She nodded, grabbing the keys, and packing them behind the desk. Suddenly, her face lit up as if she had just remembered a forgotten thought.

“Oh, I completely forgot when you checked in.” She reached below the desk, opening a few drawers before handing him a pamphlet. “If you’re looking for some places in town to visit here's a guide.” 

“Oh, thank you, but I already got one last night,” Sam smiled. She stared at Sam blanky.

“Have a great day, sir.” He nodded with tight lips, grabbing Dean’s arm and leading them outside.

“Dude, she said the exact same thing to me last night when I came down for stuff.” Dean shrugged.

“Probably just her regular spiel, you know how those jobs are.” Sam lowered his brows, his gaze on nothing in particular. 

“I don’t know, it was just weird…” Dean shrugged, “Who cares as long as we're out of here within an hour.” He focused on the road, more preoccupied with fixing Baby and getting on with the case they were supposed to be working on. A few minutes later, a large, rusted sign reading ‘Steve’s Auto Shop,’ came into view, the blue and red paint chipped away from weather and old age. Dean parked his car and walked hastily inside, Sam on his tail. 

“Hey!” They heard someone yelling. Inside, a woman stood at the front of the store, waving her hands frantically in the man’s face. She couldn’t have been much older than Sam. “Dad, this isn’t fucking funny, seriously.” The man stared at her blanky, before looking up at her, as if just registering her face.

“Hey, Honey, how can I help ya? Shouldn’t you be at school, it’s Monday.”

The woman groaned, her hands flying to cover her face in frustration, “Dad, it’s Thursday. Please, I’m begging you, stop this, whatever is going on, please…” Dean got closer and saw tears in her eyes. He approached her tentatively, making his voice known first.

“Hey,” the woman jumped at Dean’s voice, but she quickly looked relieved to see him, though Dean was sure they’d never met. She walked up to them impatiently, looking both of them up and down skeptically. “Are you real? You’re not…from here. You can see me right, hear me?” 

“Hey, it’s okay, we’re uh, real. What’s the matter?” Sam said gently, coming closer to her and Dean tentatively. She stared at Sam, then Dean, and sighed a heavy exhale. Dean knew that exhaustion she was feeling, he’d felt the same way before.

“Are you guys visiting?” They both nodded. “How long?” Dean explained how they had come last night and only meant to stop briefly, but was having car troubles. Usually he wouldn't give strangers his life story, especially in his line of work, but this woman was obviously in distress. An odd sort of distress. A, ‘supernatural problem’, sort of distress. She nodded, like she was trying to calm herself down enough to explain what was happening.

“I…I’m going to sound insane.” Sam and Dean gave each other a knowing look. Definitely their type of problem. 

“Trust me.” Sam interrupted. “We’ve probably heard weirder.”

“I don’t know…I woke up Monday and everything was normal. Tuesday, I woke up the same alarm, everyone was acting weird, like, repeating the same few things. And Wednesday it was the same, and I thought it would change today, but I feel like I’m going insane. I mean, my own father doesn’t recognize me, no one does. It's like they're all stuck. But I’m not. Heard that kind of crazy?”

Dean laughed, “Actually, yes. Uh, we might be able to help.”

“You’re serious?” She looked up at Dean, like she was finally seeing him, her eyes leering over his intensely green eyes and old brown jacket

Sam nodded, “This might sound even crazier, but we guess this is our buddy. Sounds like we’re dealing with a trickster.” 

“So…who are you guys?” 

“I’m Dean, this is Sam. We kinda deal with this type of stuff.” 

“What? The same day over and over? That kind of thing?”

“Not exactly, but I think we can help. I had to deal with this same thing a couple weeks ago.” She surveyed them once more, finally extending her hand, first to Sam.

She told them her name, and they replied this theirs. “Nice to meet you. Really nice, if you’re who you say you are.” She brushed her hair out of her face, walking outside, the boys following behind her. “That your car?” She asked. 

Dean nodded proudly. “Yeah.” 

“Nice.” Dean smirked, giving Sam a wink. Sam rolled his eyes, sighing loudly. 

“So,” Sam walked closer to you, saying your name, “Has anything crazy, other than this loop, happened yet? Like…someone getting hurt or…dying?”

“What the hell? No,” she stared at Sam with wide eyes. 

“Just asking,” Sam said, glad that at least she didn’t have to go through what he went through in his time loop. Dean sighed, not sure how he could get out of this. Last time Sam was stuck in one of these, he wasn’t aware of what was happening. Now the three of them were fully conscious and he still didn’t know what to do.

“We think you’re in a time loop,” Dean finally said behind her shoulder, making her turn her head slightly. Damn, they were tall. And this one was really cute…Jesus, she was stuck in a time loop, or something, and she was undressing this guy with her eyes. Not that he seemed to mind. 

Sam cleared his throat loudly and Dean and Y/N looked forward to Sam. “So, are there any odd sort of tourist attractions around here?” 

She shook her head, “No.” 

The brother looked into space, deep in thought before she decided to show them around, maybe give them ideas of what they could do.

“C’mon, let me show you what I mean.” She walked them through town, the same peoplee from yesterday strolling around town with scarves and coats alike. Suddenly, a hand sprung on Dean’s chest, shoving him to the side, a flower pot breaking where he stood. He looked to the side and saw her. “Sorry!” A woman from the apartment building yelled. Y/N mimicked her, a “sorry!” slipping from her mouth. They kept walking, and she prevented them from walking on the road, despite the crosswalk sign clearly flashing white. A car sped past, a police car following close behind. The boys kept walking, following her into a coffee shop.

“I’m gonna order a matcha, the woman behind me is gonna get a black coffee, and the man after her is gonna get a latte.” She ordered, waiting for her drink next to the boys, the woman behind her ordering a coffee, black, and the man following her ordering a… “Green tea, please.”

“Wait, he…” he winked at her, before looking at Sam and Dean with amusement on his face. Sam was on him in an instant, pulling him around the corner of the shop. “What, doing this to random innocent people, now, huh?” His face turned into a twisted smile that made Y/N’s stomach turn. The man’s face began to shift into a completely different one. He was still a person, but a nonidentical one.

“What the hell…” she backed up near Dean, and he put an arm in front of her space, the other arm reaching slowly for his knife.

The man smiled, “guess again, sweetheart.”

Dean lunged this time, his knife pressed even closer than Sam’s.

“You get her out of this before I end you here, and now.” Sam was next to her now, letting Dean take out his own anger on the trickster. Sam was almost still. The being under dean’s knife had left Sam alone and broken after dean ‘died.’ It was the worst time of his life. Losing Dean had turned him into a monster, and he hadn’t even told Dean everything.

“What did she do to deserve this mess, huh? Fuck with us all you want but she’s not a part of this.”

The man slimed in Dean’s grip. “You’re right. She’s not. I just…well, I got bored! Spun a wheel, of sorts, and landed in this town. Fate may have it that she won my good graces.”

“Get her out of here before I carve that stupid smile right out of your face.” 

“No can do, son. I’m having too much f–” Dean’s knife was in the man’s chest instantaneously, twisting like a dreidel before Dean forced it out of him.

A car passed, their brights flashing on the three, and next thing she knew, Y/N woke up in her bed, just as she had the last few days, her clock reading; ‘Tuesday, November 3rd, 2008.’ 

“Holy shit.” Something stirred on her floor, and before she could properly think, her knife under her pillow was on the figure in an instant. 

“Dean?” she had lunged at him, her blade nearly pressing into his throat. “What happened?” Dean looked at her with wide eyes. “This is how you repay me for saving your life?”

Sam, from the other side of her bed, laughed as he stood up. His face was beaming, smiling happily at the clock,“You broke it, Dean. She’s out of it.”

“Oh my god.” She released the knife from her hands, tossing it god knows where in her room before wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. 

“Thank you,” she breathed, her breath tickling Dean’s neck, making him feel things he’d rather not admit. Dean smiled, helping her stand.

“Anytime, Y/N.” They stared at each other for too long once again, her eyes less shameless than before, causing Sam to speak up. 

“We should go…soon. I’ll go get the car. Be back in 30.” She smiled wondrously at Sam, but missed his wink to Dean as he left her room. It wasn’t common that Dean got with girls Sam was a fan of, but he did like Y/N. He’d give them a small slice of time together.

“So. 30 minutes?” Dean said too close to her ear for it to be friendly, smirking and showing his pretty teeth. She nodded, her face heating up.

“The clock’s ticking, Dean. We should get this started.” She grabbed his shoulder with one hand, the other curling in his hair as they fell back on the bed. Maybe Dean wasn’t in such a rush to get to Utah.

[cursedcupcakemaster]

can I order a Poison apple pie and candy violets with and get Spider Cider. With a ghost!reader , this is the same person who requested the other Spider Cider, hope you have a nice day❤️

Of course so we are looking for a deadly friendship with Skully are we ?

Order; Poison apple pie with a side of candy violets and a glass of spider cider

Notes; I do not own twisted wonderland, Skully or the reader,Skully and Twst belong to Disney as well as the brilliant mind of Yana Toboso, reader belongs to themselves, this is just my interpretation of how this would go with the character, reader isn't neccesarily Yuu but if you want to imagine they are you're welcome to, y/n, reader is you

Warnings;yandere, Skully may or may not have killed a few people, implied death

Yandere Skully J. X ghost reader

🪦Best friends forever🪦

You could hardly remember what happened to get you where you are now

A spirit haunting a house that hardly anyone would pass by except for one boy

He was tall and quite pale wjth a rather pleasant smile and sharply dressed at that

Skully would always come to visit you every day when the sun went down and would talk with you about the outside world that you couldn't explore much due to being bound to the house

It always made your afterlife feel just a bit easier to deal with and there was something about Skully that seemed familiar to you but it wasn't really clear what

Sometimes Skully would ask to bury things in the back of the house and you allowed him to but he never really told you what was in the yard

It just made you happy to have some company in your lonely house that wasn't the spiders weaving their pretty webs or the rats scuttling about

Skully would sometimes bring things for you, like teddies or dolls so you could possess it or little trinkets you seemed to like such as music boxes or books that you seemed interested in after he told you about them

The one thing he never really seemed to want to let you see were newspapers

It was odd but you shrugged it off its not as if much of it could really effect you considering you weren't alive

Another peculiar thing was that he seemed to know your house better than even yourself, particularly the attic

There was something about it that kind of unnerved you

Particularly a trunk in the corner of the room, it was a charcoal black and when you tried to phase through it you couldn't do it

It was rather shocking to yiu considering there weren't many objects you couldn't get through but the last time you tried Skully seemed a bit upset and yelled that there was nothing for you go see in there

He quickly changed his tune when he saw the look on your face before

The only other time you saw him act like this was when some punks came in to wreck the place, they smashed photos, the windows, and all the nicer things that Skully had brought into the house

He told you to not show yourself to them and that he'd take care of it

Doing as he said the last thing you heard of those punks were their screams before Skully came up smiling letting you know everything was fine

When you thanked him he said "it's really no problem, you're my best friend after all"

Somehow those words meant something to you, like you'd heard them before

After this incident a few more holes were dug in the back yard

One night Skully dropped something on his way out, it was a small skeletal key and the lock seemed to fit the shape of the odd trunk

Fitting it inside and lifting the lid you saw several things including photos of you, only you were....alive and you had a family

Beside you was a boy who looked an awful lot like Skully both of you wore friendship necklaces in the shape of a skull with heart shaped eyesockets

The photos weren't the only the only odd thing, there were some news clippings including "Teenagers missing" and "Mysterious deaths of local family "

There was one last object and it was a shovel

Going outside you took the shovel with you and began digging

What you found only made you feel ill and grateful you didn't have organs any longer

There were the corpses of the punks that tried to destroy your home, the people that were once your family and finally your own bones, you knew it was yours thanks to the friendship necklace shaped like a skull with heart shaped eye sockets

You felt a chill before you turned and saw Skully and he did not look the least bit pleased

"You finally saw it huh" he murmured

"W-why why would you do this?" You asked your voice dripping with fear at the boy who was once your friend

It seemed your question made him smile at you

"They were going to take you away from me. I couldn't let that happen, as for those other ones they deserved it for ruining our house"

Skully took a step toward yoh making you float backwards until you were cornered against the wall as he spoke again

"Don't you see, I did this all for you that's what friends are for~ and we're best friends forever"

You knew he wouldn't likely stop with his sinister projects unless you agreed to what he wanted

"Skully, please no more ,no more killing if you're really my friend please no more"

Ectoplasmic tears ran down your cheeks making him look at you with his face softening before wiping your tears with his thumbs

"Will you stay with me forever then?" He asked

"Best friends till the end" you replied before the skeleton like boy pressed his lips to your own cold ones

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

All In 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: double chapters when I know I shouldn't.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“We got a suite available, Amalia?” The man, the owner of this casino, Bucky, asks as he approaches the glass counter of the hotel lobby. You barely keep up as your surroundings smear and your head spins. Everything’s happening so fast. 

“Mr. Barnes,” the woman on the other side greets as she nears the slim monitor, “I think we should.” She glances at him, then your sister as she blathers drunkenly in his arms, “having a good night?” 

“Oh, just some friends in the city for a night,” he lies easily, “she got a bit carried away so we’ll let her sleep it off.” 

You chew your lip as you stand just behind him. Your stomach lurches as your eyes wander around the fine decor. It’s all out of your price range. Again, your brain is a beat behind.  

“Doll, would you get that?” He asks as the desk agent holds out a small folder. 

“Oh, yeah, er,” you rush up to take the room keys, “sorry.” 

“No problem, just got my hands full,” he scoffs, “Amalia, have a good night. Hopefully you don’t get anyone too rowdy.” 

“Thank you, sir, you too,” she preens after him as he heads off across the lobby. 

Once more you’re on his heels as he struts toward the elevators. You catch up to him and force the frog from your throat, “uh, sir, Bucky?” You stammer, “I don’t think... I can afford--” 

“Doll, don’t worry about all that. It's on the house,” he stops before the elevator and stares at the golden doors, “I’m not some sort of grifter. I offered, I’m not gonna squeeze ya. What’s the room number?” 

“Er, oh,” you open the little folder, “720.” 

“Right, hit the button,” he nods before him. 

“Sorry,” you cringe again. You’re so behind. It must be so obvious to him how lost you are. Maybe that’s why he noticed you. He feels bad that someone so pathetic could exist. 

You press the up button and the doors open. He nods you ahead of him and you step into the box. The walls are transparent and you can see outside along the river. He gets in and comes to stand parallel with you as you avoid looking through the glass. 

“Seven,” he says. 

You make another mousy noise and tap the button. You recoil, clutching your hands over your chest, and stare at the doors. As the elevator rises, you feel a wave of head rush, and you sway just a little. You gulp and widen your eyes. 

“Not a fan of heights?” He asks as the box stops sharply and the doors ding and open. 

“Not really,” you mutter. 

He waits for you to exit first and you eagerly do. He follows as you look back and forth between the doors, searching out the number to match the folder. 720, right at the end. You fumble and it takes three tries to swipe the card correctly.  

Finally, the door opens and you push it inward, holding it as you flatten yourself to the wall to let him through. He enters without hesitation. For a moment, you wonder what it must be like to be so sure and so comfortable in a place like this. To have this be your normal.

You let go of the door and trail him further inside. The room is huge. Not just one room, but two. The front room is closed off by a pair of doors, painted white with fine spirals etched into the wood. You flit ahead of Bucky to slide them open and reveal the bedroom. He takes your sister to the bed and lays her down as she lets out a bubbly belch. 

“Sorry,” you apologise on her behalf as you hover in the door. 

“She’s her own person,” he stands back, “you need anything, call down to the desk. They’ll be happy to get you whatever. Oh, and, should probably have some water ready for the morning. She’s gonna be feeling this.” 

“Right,” you push your lip out then quickly fix your face, “thank you. I...” 

“Checkouts at eleven but I’ll tell Amalia to mark you down for a late departure,” he comes towards you slowly. 

“Oh, we won’t stay that long,” you assure him and scrape your palms together. 

“Ah, you got somewhere to be? Work? Gonna be a long day after tonight.” 

“No, I... I don’t...” your eyes drift to the wall. Again, you can’t help but admire the ivory paint and the crystal lamp and tall posts of the bed. “I don’t... have a job.” 

“Mm, tough out there,” he says, “just gotta find the right thing, huh?” 

You want to fold into nothing. This man, a millionaire at least, who owns this whole place, is telling you you’ll find something one day. Just like your mom does when you melt down over another rejection. Ugh. 

“Thanks, yeah,” you take a heavy breath. 

“You’re tired,” he surprises you as he caresses your sleeve, “I’m not gonna keep you up. You get some sleep, alright?” 

You nod and reach to scratch your neck, shifting away from his reach. He’s so much bigger than you that for a moment your stomach is crawling, as the thought occurs of how much control he really has. Not just because of who he is. 

“Good night, doll,” he purrs and brushes by you. 

You stay as you are, staring at your sister, muttering to herself. Why does she have to do this? You could be sleeping in your own bed but instead you’re here, burning in shame and pity. You turn as you hear him near the door. 

“Night,” you offer up. 

He stops and turns back, sending you a wink, “there’s a hot tub in here so... might enjoy the room at least.” 

You force a smile though your stress likely makes it more a grimace. He spins and leaves you, the door shutting with a click and releasing you to your self-reproach. You drop your head in your hands and huff. You are leaving the minute your sister wakes up. You never want to see that man again. You just pray he forgets you just as quickly as you want to forget this whole night. 

🃏

You hardly sleep. Your sister’s drunken snoring keeps you from relaxing for more than twenty minutes at a time, not to mention how unsettled you are. You hate sleeping in new places but moreso you hate that even on a night out, after all the assurance that you could just enjoy yourself, that you are once more a burden for someone else. 

You get up just after six. You rub your forehead as you go out into the front room and look over the amenities. There’s a fancy coffee maker with pods and a mini fridge with a glass door. You take out a bottle of water to leave by the bed for Roxie then return to figure out the coffee. You don’t often have any but your head is pounding. 

You sit down and sneer at the bitterness. Did you make it right? You never liked the taste so you can’t tell. You finish the cup if only for the soothing warmth. 

At seven, you get up to check on Roxie again. She’s still out like a light. Come on! You want to go. 

You rinse the mug in the sink as best you can and return it to the shelf. There’s a knock on the door. You flinch and reluctantly tread down to the hall. You peep through the hole as you fix your clothing. You push down the handle slowly to greet the woman with the cart. 

The golden embroidery on her white blouse marks her as an employee and she beams a smile in your direction. It’s too early for that amount of cheer. She has her hands on the cart, angling it towards the door. 

“Morning, miss, breakfast, complements of Mr. Barnes,” she declares, “where can I put it?” 

“Um,” you back up slowly, “inside... uh, by the table, I guess.” 

She rolls the cart in and asks if you need anything else before she leaves. You shake your head. There’s more than enough there for you and Roxie. If she can even stomach any of it. You’ve seen the way she is after her nights out. 

You sit and stare at the buffet of food before you. Fresh fruit, waffles, pancakes, french toast, bacon, eggs... everything and more. Just another favour to feel bad for. 

As you look over it all, you notice a note, nestled between the glasses beside the pitcher of orange juice. You take it. That must be the bill. You unfold it and read the slanted capitals hand-written across the casino-branded page. 

‘Good Morning, Doll,  

Enjoy breakfast on me. 

B. Barnes’ 

Under his name, is a sharp zigzag of the same black ink, a post script below. 

‘PS. If you’re still looking for a job, call me.’ 

You nearly drop the paper. What? You stare at the digits of his phone number and slowly lower your hand to your lap. This can’t be real. Could you really work at a casino? Would you be a dealer? Or maybe you’d be more suited to a cleaner, somewhere you can be out of the way. 

A long groan interrupts your inner turmoil. You fold the paper and tuck it away. It’s something. You’ll have to just figure out later what. 

“Coffee,” Roxie grumbles as she appears in the doorframe, gripping her skull. 

“Oh, uh, sure,” you get up and go to the machine. You grab a random pod and shove it into the top. 

“Where... how’d we get here?” She sits heavily and reaches for a piece of bacon. 

“Um, you... you were really drunk so...” 

“How the hell did you get us a room? Wait. Did we win? Blackjack?” She bites into the greasy strip and moans. “Or... I didn’t sleep with that guy, did I?” 

“Erm,” you frown, thinking for a moment before you realise she must mean that Sam guy. “No...” 

You don’t explain. You don’t know how. Oh yeah, you were such a disaster that the owner noticed and didn’t kick us out. Actually, he let us stay in an overpriced suite because... you don’t know. 

“He must be loaded if he’s handing out hotel rooms,” she scoffs as she continues on in her assumption. You don’t correct her. It doesn’t matter. “Coffee,” she snaps her fingers as the grind quiets. 

You bring her the mug and she adds too many packets of sugar before she tastes it. You hide the paper in your cardigan pocket and search for your purse. You fish your watch out of it and put it around your wrist checking the time. 

“We should head out before nine,” you say. 

“Why?” She scoffs. “Ugh, what’s the bath like in this place? I could use a soak.” 

“Mom’s going to be worried.” 

“Nah, she knows I’ll get you back,” she waves you off and stands.  

She walks slowly, rubbing her temples as she sips from the cup, and examines the hotel room. She dips into the bathroom and the light flicks on. You hear her turning the faucet and shifting things around.  

You play with the zipper of your purse. You reach inside and pull out your phone. You get up to grab the key folder and enter the wifi code into your outdated model. It takes far too long to connect. You type into the search of your browser, ‘Bucky Barnes’. 

Almost at once, an image of the very man who carried Roxie into this room appears. It’s familiar. You tap it and it opens up a local news story. That makes sense. He’s younger, his hair is shorter. You remember when the casino changed hands and was renovated all those years ago. It was big news. 

Hm. Not just rich, famous, at least to a degree. It means he has a lot more going on than two disorderly girls at his casino. He’ll forget. You just hope you can too. 

Roxie comes back in a robe and put her mug on the table, “make me another. I’m gonna try those jets.” 

She spins away and you stare at her empty cup. How can she not care about anything? Does she not realise that she ruined the night? That she made a fool of both of you? No, she just sees shiny things and forgets all about her own behaviour. 

Well, you’re not like her. You don’t like being a burden or asking for things or living on someone else’s affection. You look down and feel along your pocket, the slip of paper firm through the fabric. You could clean a few hotel toilets for a buck. It’s not like you have much else going on. 

[chocsra]

"What is A House? Who is Your Home?"

15! Dazai x gn! reader

ask: @wifedazai hellooo 🫶🫶 i’m literally soo in love with your writing, i love it so much. i was wondering when you get the chance if you could make a 15!dazai x fem/gn reader? like the reader is a caring and sweet person to dazai that he lets himself be vulnerable around her, like for example one day he goes straight to her apartment after a tiring mission and just lets them take care of him, bathing him, changing his bandages, etc🫶

content: fluff, oneshot, not proofread, taking care of dazais bandages, mentions of odasaku, mentions of suicide & getting hurt, soft! dazai

a/n: ur request was saur cute pookie, ENJOY AND SORRY FOR THE LACK OF DAZAI CONTENTJWJSJS. ps, the port mafia was his house, the agency is his home

"You're home,"

A warm chill soothed in the air: the jingle of keys, the rustling of leaves from open windows, the scent of sweat and blood. Home, they say, is not a house, nor just someplace you sleep in; that's why a house cannot always be a home, or a home cannot always be just a house.

"I always come home."

Dazai Osamu - is an er, friend of yours? In the rise and fall of Yokohama's chest, laid bustling streets where crime inhabits each corner, each alleyway. And well, your 'friend' did contribute to that factor, but you digress.

"Home, as in, my house?" you ask casually, a smile tugging on your lips. Dazai chuckles, taking off his workshoes on at the doorstep before gently pinching on your cheek. "Anything's better than that shipping container." he feigns a sigh, watching as your face contorts in confusion as blood from his thumb smudges on your cheek. "Ah," the teenage boy lets out a breathy giggle, "sorry." Dazai wipes the blood again with his thumb, smearing the imprint across your skin.

"So, what happened to you, Mr. Mafia?" you snicker, Dazai's black overcoat rested somewhere on the clean flooring of your apartment. Currently changing his bandages, washing some blood off here and there. "Well, I bet you can guess." he exhales, bringing a bandaged hand to ruffle the brown locks in between his hair.

"I wonder why you get hurt so much," you grumble softly, gently unbandaging the guaze secured around his neck, arms, well, his everything. "I wonder that too, huh?" Dazai swiftly repeats, "Why are you repeating everything i say?" you cock a brow, wiping some blood from his shoulder suspiciously. "No I'm not," the brunette looks at you mock-offendedly, "Yeah you are."

There are times where being friends with a mafioso was well, challenging. Dazai of all people, is one of, if not the most challenging criminal you've encountered. And if he actually lived a normal life, he'd be sweating his ass off studying; if he needs to.

You'd think about his whereabouts: what does Dazai Osamu do in a day? who does Dazai Osamu do in a day? And why is Dazai Osamu not dead?

Ps: that's because he wants to die. You know because he told you a million times before.

You know Dazai Osamu does one thing though, he teaches. Past tense actually, he taught.

You figured out the difference between a house and a home.

Home is a tall brunette, appearing at your doorstep with shitty takeout.

Home is changing a mystery boy's suit and tie.

Home is not being able to sleep, because reality is finally better than your dreams.

Home is kissing shards of broken glass - you're bound to get hurt, but at least you were The Victim, and not The Cause.

"Well, I don't like to see you hurt, 'kay?" you smile softly, gently washing his shoulders and arms, feeling the prominent bones under his flesh. "And what is that supposed to imply, exactly?" he smiles cheekily, turning to you as you chuckle endearingly, "It means, don't-" you tap his forehead playfully, "get," tapping again, watching as the brunette laughs under his breath, "hurt, stupid." Dazai softly takes your hand in his, looking intently at the soft flesh of yours compared to the calloused, beaten knuckles of his.

"You're right, my dear," you turn away half-flushed, half-scoffing at the sudden nickname, "I'll try." the boy smiles, rubbing your knuckles gently under the pad of his bruised fingers. You chuckle in return, watching as Dazai pauses.

"Under one condition," he mutters, his bare shoulders reflecting under the returning sun, "and what's that?"

"You meet a friend of mine, he taught me a lot of things." the brunette murmurs in a hushed tone, you see the glimmer in his eyes, eyes that look lifeless most of the time, devoid of mercy, compassion. But sometimes, Dazai loses the scare, and blooms like he's seen an angel above when he looks at you. "What's their name? Are they in the mafia too?" you question, your lips tugging into a hearty smile, "Well I call him Odasaku, but his name is Oda - and he is in the mafia, but really, I think he should be an author."

"Sounds pretty drastic," you reply, Dazai hums peacefully, "but achievable." you both say in unison. "So what do you say?" the boy asks, "Will you meet him with me?" you wrap new bandages around his shoulders gently, "maybe," you murmur; the teenager rolls his eyes sassily, "c'mon, he'll like that someone is taking care of me like this." humming a soft tune, "alright, alright."

"Y'know, you mentioned he taught you a lot of things," you brought up, reapplying gauze now to his arms." Dazai looks at your with loving eyes, "mhm," he hums. "Like what?"

"The difference between a house and a home."

[henreyettah]

Glass House: a Keys Out mystery

(Veil-less Harrow version under the cut)

(I’m gonna make prints out of this but I’m not sure which version to do so if y’all have opinions please send them my way)

[cursingtoji]

5 and 24 with nanami 🤓

(nanami as a grumpy dom bodyguard.. PLEASE SEE MY VISION Y'ALL)

𝑩𝒐𝒅𝒚𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒅!𝑵𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊

plus “you’re doing great” ⊱ brat taming, fingering, a bit of car sex, oral (f -> m); the Clichés ™

🝮 Bodyguard!Nanami who was hired by your father to keep you safe and away from trouble, though he was warned you could be a bit of handful sometimes.

🝮 Bodyguard!Nanami who can’t stand brats, every time you attempt to escape without him noticing he feels like tying you up and fuck your face until you’re crying begging for his forgiveness and promising to be good.

🝮 Bodyguard!Nanami who’s super professional, wearing a full suit and tie everyday, keeping the mysterious look by wearing sunglasses even inside the house. You of course can’t get a hold of yourself and invade his personal space poking his cheek and teasing him for looking so grumpy.

“Am I not behaving well today? You know why? ‘Cause I got a date” you whisper the last part as a secret, asking him to not tell your father.

🝮 Bodyguard!Nanami who knows he would just cause more trouble to himself if he tells on you, so with a tired sigh he takes the keys and drives you to the restaurant, not failing to notice the way you pushed your breasts and wore a sweet perfume for the date. He waits patiently by the bar keeping an eye on your table, especially on your date that he can tell almost immediately it’s not worth a damn penny. The way he can’t keep his eyes on your face for more than 3 seconds without dropping to your cleavage and always bringing the topic back to himself makes Nanami wants to break his nose.

“Did you listen to our conversation?” you ask your bodyguard discretely after telling your date you were going to get a drink at the bar.

“A little bit, yes” he lies, of course he heard the whole thing.

“What do you think of him?” Nanami studies you, your fingers are nervously kneading a clean napkin, your eyes are shiny and wide expecting an answer from him, the blond side looks your date who was smiling down at his phone.

“Are you seriously asking me this?” his answer is harsh, you should’ve seen this coming.

“Sorry, it’s just that I haven’t had much luck with men lately” you confess in a moment of vulnerability, “Do you think we can sneak out without him noticing?” Nanami empties his glass of whiskey in one go before placing his hand on your lower back and leading you to the exit.

🝮 Bodyguard!Nanami who keeps wearing sunglasses inside, but he uses it as an excuse to shamelessly stare at your body. You’ve grown too comfortable around him, barely using a bra anymore, bending way too low in that little shorts and showering with your bathroom door open where, even though he can’t see you, the smell coming out of the bathroom and your humming is enough to tempt him into joining you.

🝮 Bodyguard!Nanami who thinks you have been quite good lately, it’s even a little concerning, but peace doesn’t reign for too long and as soon as his guard is down you leave the house on a little party dress and go club.

You manage to get yourself almost two hours drinking and dancing with strangers before your partner has his hands abruptly taken away from your hips as Nanami twists his arm, you look over your shoulder to see your bodyguard murmuring a threat the man you now see it was not nearly as handsome as the one holding his arm to an almost breaking point. You attempt to tiptoe your way out of his sight but he’s quick to catch your wrist, you gasp when meeting his angered features.

“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be” he threats tightening his grip on you.

🝮 Bodyguard!Nanami who fingers you in the passenger seat of the car, wanting nothing more than to rip that ridiculously short dress into pieces.

“You’re so difficult and for what? Is this what you wanted all this time?” he groans working his fingers firmly while still trying to drive without crashing.

"What you gonna do to me?" you ask biting your nails in antecipation but don't have to wait longer before your bodyguard is roughly throwing you onto the same bed he sees you go to every night with a different nightgown and has to restrain himself from joining you.

Not tonight though, tonight Nanami is getting what he wanted this whole time.

"That's the only way to shut that bratty little mouth of yours, huh" he mutters with your hair around his hand guiding your head between his legs. You ran your hands from the firm muscles of his thigh to the abs under his white shirt feeling it twich on your palm, tugging the material with your other hand as plead through gags for him to take it off.

"Alright, just because you're doing so great" he opens his buttons one by one and gets rid of all the clothes covering his torso, "C'mere" he pulls your hair until his cock slides off with a string of saliva and precum connecting him to your mouth.

🝮 Bodyguard!Nanami who helps you straddle him smiling widely as he sees you pout, "Don't make this face" he runs his thumb on your lower lip, "I'll make it good for us, but before you have to work for it, it's only fair after what you put me through" Nanami slaps your ass, you understand how stressful it must have been for him so you comply, not before picking his tie from the mattress and putting it around your own neck, your bodyguard smiles giving it a hard tug until your lips are on his.

Also part of the Clichés event:

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

“Who did this to you?” Sukuna

Drunk Confession — Toji

“What happened to us?” Gojo

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024 | Steddie Microfic

July 7th prompt: Free Space - Mystery, Hands, Long, Trade, Exes to Lovers or Getting Back Together, Drunken Confession (aka I combined all the prompts I didn’t use this week) | July prompt: one

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6

Word count: 1,111

No warnings apply

Rated T

@steddie-week | @steddiemicrofic

It was never a mystery, to Steve, how they got together. How they worked together.

The only mystery is how he managed to let him go—to lose him in a way Steve hadn’t understood until Eddie. Because Nancy was great, she was fantastic, Steve was in love. He doesn’t doubt that. But it never felt like it did with Eddie: low lights in the club, hands on each other’s bodies, open-mouth kisses that really was nothing more than them panting into each other’s mouths—

Stumbling into the bathroom, or into either of their bedrooms, hands in hair and under shirts and unbuckling belts—

Sleepy, slow morning kisses. Breakfast. Holidays.

How did it end?

Steve thinks, remembers fists clenched at sides, red faces, stiff shoulders.

Remembers shouted words, cold shoulders, slammed doors.

Remembers the key left on the kitchen counter.

That had done it, he remembers, he had called Robin, already sobbing, and she was on her bike and halfway there practically before she had hung up the phone. She’d held him as he fell apart on the kitchen tiles.

Then again, when he went to go to bed. Saw the two pillows. Threw one off; it hit the wall, slid down. Had to change the sheets; they smelled too much like him.

It took him a long time—a really long time—to get to the point he’d be okay on his own for more than a couple hours, to the point he could go out to clubs again. Not the same ones he’d gone to, never those, but… he moved on. Kind of.

He knew, and Robin knew, that part of him, at least, would always love Eddie.

It’s why when they’re in a club—a new one they had just found, okay music but better drinks and prospects—and Steve grabs her arm, she looks the direction he is.

He feels like he’s swallowing sandpaper. “His hair is longer.”

“It is.” She pries his fingers off, just so he’s not bruising her anymore, but holds his hand. “What do you want to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters, watches the way Eddie prowls through the crowd, smirking at people, but still definitely on his way to the bar.

The bar. “I’m gonna get us more drinks,” he says. They both ignore the fact that they’ve barely touched their current glasses.

“Let me know if you need backup.”

“Will do.” He looks at her, for the first time since seeing him, and smiles. “Love you, Robbie.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiles. “Love you, dingus. Go get your man back.”

Steve makes it to the bar before Eddie, asks for whatever is on tap. Looks away at the wall. Can’t watch him walk up. 

“Long Island,” he hears directly beside him, and turns to see Eddie turning to see Steve.

He takes a breath. “Eddie.”

Eddie looks… he looks good, because he always does, but he looks tired, maybe a little thinner. Not… not good, not happy like he was. He swallows. “Steve.”

The bartender hands over their drinks, and Steve takes a sip only to cough. “Sorry, fuck,” he mutters, finally looking at the glass in his hand. He’s got the Long Island, and Eddie’s got his beer.

Eddie’s watching him with an interesting little smile. “Trade?”

“Trade,” Steve agrees, nodding. He coughs again. “God, how do you like that?”

Eddie snickers, pulls a lock of hair over his face. Steve wishes he wouldn’t.

Miraculously, they keep talking. They’re never searching for the next word to make the silence go away because there is no silence.

Eventually Robin comes up to him, pulls him into a hug. “Imma go home with that girl,” she murmurs, pointing behind her. A cute, preppy-looking blonde smiles nervously at Steve. He smiles at her, then back to Robin. “Of course. Call the house, give me the address.” He kisses her forehead. “Have fun.”

“Oh, I will,” she grins, then turns to look at Eddie, eyes narrowed.

Eddie gulps. She grins, scary as anything, and whispers something in his ear that has him paling. “Yuh-yep. Yeah. Got it. Thanks Robin.”

Steve grimaces when she walks away. “What did she say?”

Eddie looks at him for a long minute. “Something I’ve known for a while now,” he eventually murmurs. 

It was inevitable, really, that they would end up back here, hands in hair and under shirts, stumbling into Steve’s apartment, panting into each other’s mouths, trying to undo buckles by memory because the worst thing in the world right now would be to stop kissing.

“God, Steve,” Eddie gasps, pulling him down the hall. “C’mon- c’mon, please, need you, need you-”

“Yeah,” Steve answers against his mouth, just as affected. He’s got his own pants halfway off, thinking about his shirt next, thinking about the lube in the drawer that hasn’t gotten as much action as it used to, and suddenly he aches for it. “Need you inside me,” he mutters, kissing down Eddie’s neck, stopping at a place behind his ear that he knows from experience makes Eddie’s knees weak.

“Fuck,” Eddie chokes out. “Yeah, yeah, c’mon, c’mon baby, lemme in you- lube’s in the drawer?”

Steve opens the drawer in answer, roots around until his fingers close on the bottle. Pushes it into Eddie’s hand, pushes him away so Steve can get naked.

Eddie’s eyes rake along his body. He drops his own pants just as fast, limbs flying as he strips out of his shirt too, clambering onto the bed beside Steve’s hip, eyes wide and fingers shaking as he lubes up.

It’s after, when everything’s cooling and drying and becoming itchy, that Eddie’s breath wobbles. “I shouldn’t,” he mutters into Steve’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t say anything. But hell if I don’t miss you like crazy.”

Steve closes his eyes, tries to keep the tears at bay. “You’re drunk.”

“I had less than one drink.”

The tears win. “We broke up for a reason,” he whispers. “Didn’t we?”

“I was scared,” Eddie says.

“And you’re not now?”

“Only of losing you.”

Steve sobs, can’t help it, but he feels Eddie’s hot tears on his neck, too, and that somehow makes it better.

It’s the next morning, after slow, sleepy kisses and breakfast, that Steve sighs. “I never stopped loving you. I don’t think I can.”

“I don’t think I can, either.”

Steve slowly turns to look at him. “So what does that make us?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I know is it makes me yours.”

“Yours,” Steve parrots, daring to curl his fingers over Eddie’s, breath hitching when he holds on just as tight. “That sounds pretty damn good to me.”

[httplilyyy]

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 || 𝐒𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

pairing: sam carpenter x reader

request: 'can i please request reader living with sam and tara at their apartment and one night she finds sam quietly crying in the kitchen all alone late at night (you choose why, because of a nightmare, because of everything that happened, because of those rumours) and after a little resistance from sam she finally allows herself to be comforted and reader just holds her close until the tears stop.... maybe later sam doesn't want to go back to her lonely bed and ends up cuddling with reader on her bed... thank you, love your writing'

summary: sometimes even the strongest people need a break

warnings: nothing but fluff

word count: 1.5k

a/n: not the most proud of this but i am running on four hours of sleep so its the best it can be, so sorry about that

scream masterlist

Street lights flickered as storm clouds gathered on the horizon, an angry rumble echoing off the buildings. The streets were completely empty, which was out of the ordinary for that time of night, seeing as it was the city that never sleeps.

It was around one in the morning, the sky being pitch black and you had just finished your shift at work. The faint sound of raindrops and the odd crunch of glass underfoot was all that was heard as you made your way home.

The rain started to pick up which made you quicken your pace. Walking up the stairs to the fourth floor and along a hallway, you reached your apartment, one that you shared with Sam and Tara. 

Hurriedly, you grabbed the house keys from your pocket and opened the front door. Letting out a sigh as your back hit the door as it closed, you were finally home. You kicked off your shoes and placed your coat upon the hanger.

The apartment was silent apart from the faint sound of the tv playing in the background. Looking to your right, you saw plates and cups littering the coffee table as well as hearing soft snores coming from the sofa.

You made your way further into the living room and spotted Tara sleeping soundly, occasionally getting a shiver ripple through her body.

A small smile made its way onto your face at the look of Sam’s younger sister, she finally looked content and you hated the fact that you had to break it.

You crouched in front of the sofa, gently moving Tara’s hair out of her eyes as you softly woke her up.

Tara opened her eyes slowly, lazily bringing up a hand to rub her eyes as she tried to shake off her sleepiness.

“Hey,” you whispered, rubbing a hand up and down her arm, “come on sleepyhead, let's get you to bed.”

Still in a sleepy haze, Tara nodded and groggily got up. You followed her to her room, making sure she was alright before walking back to the living room.

You turned the tv off, picking up the plates and cups that were scattered around the room. You threw all the rubbish into the bin and began to do the washing up.

As you were half way through cleaning, you heard sounds of shuffling coming towards you. Moving your head to the side, you watched as Sam padded into the kitchen, her face was blotchy as if she had been crying.

Sam stopped in her tracks when she saw you, her fingers tugging at the sleeves of her- your jumper, suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

Your heart seemed to crack at the sight of her, the person who was always so strong for her sister, for you, seemed to be breaking at the seams. 

You had completely forgotten the cleaning up, Sam taking over your mind as you dried off your hands and pulled her further into the kitchen.

Sam trudged after you, her hand sitting loosely in yours. You wordlessly patted the top of the counter, telling Sam to sit there whilst you rummaged around in the cupboards.

You pulled some hot chocolate powder from the cupboard and put the kettle on to boil, taking two cups and placing them on the side.

As you poured Sam’s hot chocolate, you finally let yourself take in her appearance. It was a mystery to you how she could be so gorgeous even with tear marks on her cheeks. 

Her hair was tied up in a bun, a few strands clinging onto her forehead and neck as her eyes followed you around the kitchen. 

Handing the mug to Sam, she let out an appreciative hum after the first sip, warmth and sweetness flooding her body. 

“You wanna talk about it?” You questioned, your voice just above a whisper as you placed your cup to the side.

“Not really.” Sam replied, her voice cracking as she tightened her grip on the mug. 

You placed a comforting hand on her thigh, feeling as she tensed up under your touch. Sighing to yourself, you gave her a tight lipped smile, knowing she wasn’t in the mood to talk before continuing with the washing up.

As soon as your hand left Sam’s thigh, she missed the warmth that had encompassed her body. 

Sam averted her gaze to the floor, her fingers ghosting the rim of her cup which was now empty. 

She jumped off the counter top and stood behind you, contemplating on what to do for a minute until she turned you around and pulled you into a hug.

Shocked at the sudden movement, you stood there stunned as she hugged you, using all her force to bring you as close as possible. She buried herself into you, hot tears rolling down her cheeks and wetting your shirt.

“I keep having the same dream.” Sam sniffled, her voice raw as it broke towards the end. “And I- I can’t seem to shake it.”

You wrapped your arms around her, one around her waist and the other cradling her head. The two of you swayed together, Sam’s sobs never ceasing. 

“That’s all it is though, Sam.” You said quietly, pulling her off you so you could look in her eyes. “It’s only a dream.”

“I just wish it would all go away.” Sam said, looking between your eyes, her bottom lip quivering.

“I know.” You sighed, your heart heavy as you pulled her back into your embrace. “If I could take away your pain, I would. You know I would.”

Sam sucked in a sharp breath, the feeling of it all finally crashing down on her and she couldn't take it.

“It’s all too much, I just want to be normal.”

“You are, Sam.” You said, a frown forming on your face at her thoughts. “Don’t think like that.”

The warmth of your body and the gentle pressure of your arms created a cocoon of safety that enveloped Sam.

Her heart, which had been racing with fear due to her nightmare just moments before, began to slow down as she breathed in and let the tension in her shoulders melt away, feeling herself surrender to the moment.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” You whispered, slowly pulling out of her embrace.

“Can I- can I stay with you tonight?” Sam asked, staring down at her feet.

“Of course.” You smiled, rubbing your hands up and down her arms comfortingly. 

The two of you walked to your room where the sound of raindrops tapped against your window, the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the sky.

You were quick to change out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable, crawling into your bed beside Sam.

Your shoulders brushed together and you opened your arm to her, allowing for her to get closer to you.

Sam smiled, tucking herself under your arm with a little hesitation. Her cheek rested just above your heart, the steady beating calming her down. 

The two of you laid in silence, the sound of raindrops hammering on your window created a sense of tranquillity amidst the storm outside.

The two of you enjoy being in each other’s presence without having to say a word.

You looked down at Sam, unknowingly making your way closer to one another and you could soon feel Sam’s breath against your lips.

You reached your hand down to Sam’s face, gently, you raised your hand to cup her cheek, your thumb softly traced along her cheekbone. 

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into your touch. A small smile adorning her face.

Sam didn’t know what had come over her and with a small but impulsive movement, her lips were on yours.

As Sam’s lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss, she felt all of her fears and doubts melt away. 

She savoured the sensation of your lips moving against hers, struck by how perfectly they fit together, like two puzzle pieces finally coming together. 

Your body tingled with electricity as she pressed closer to you. A shiver ran down your spine as she hummed into your mouth.

You pulled away softly for a breath of air, and Sam chased your lips with hers, kissing you softly once again. 

“Sam.” You breathed, her forehead pressed against yours. “What are we doing?”

“I- I don’t-”

You let the seconds go by without saying a word and Sam almost wanted to run away. That was until you gave her a soft smile, pulling her into you once more.

“You’re telling Tara.” You mumbled, pressing your lips back on hers.

Sam’s heart was practically pumping out of her chest when you pulled away for the last time. She melted into your hold, her body on top of yours as her arms wrapped around your waist.

You intertwined your fingers, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head causing Sam to sink further into your embrace.

And in that moment, Sam had never felt more safe.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Edward Scissorhands x Reader

On her quest to make at least one sale for the day, Avon lady Peg cautiously steps into the eerie mansion of a known inventor. She soon learns that it has long been devoid of life, with the exception of Edward, a synthetic human creation left unfinished. She returns to the bright suburbs accompanied by the poor young man, earning the curious stares of the bystanders. Among the colorful houses, however, Edward spots a gloomy dwelling that the neighbors seem to avoid. Who is the mysterious occupant?

Winner of the Halloween Poll! A short gothic romance in the style of Tim Burton, where two outsiders find solace in each other.

[Horror Masterlist]

The light yellow car slows down as it reaches the driveway and the engine stops. Peg makes her way out and hurries over to the passenger side, keys dangling between her fingers. She helps Edward out once she sees him awkwardly shuffling in the seat, unsure of his next step.

"You'll love it here. I just know it."

The woman hastily closes the door behind the tall, peculiar visitor. She places a gentle hand on his back and guides him down the asphalted path. 

Edward's gaze briefly wanders further into the street. The houses are slithering along neatly, their vivid colors somewhat tiring to his unaccustomed eyes. Yet one of them sticks out. Strangely enough, it reminds him of home. A rusty iron fence surrounds the property, and patches of lush, unkempt vegetation creep through the bars. The walls are dark and crooked and the black tiled roof casts a shadow over the entire abode.  

"Who lives there?" The question escapes his lips almost unconsciously. 

Peg follows his gaze, eager to introduce the area to him. Once she settles on the source of his inquiry, her smile falters for a second.

"Oh, my. That's, well..." she lets out a forced laugh and encourages him to continue walking. "I'm glad you're already so curious, Edward dear. You'll get to know everyone soon, don't worry about it."

One more push and the guest has securely entered the house. As she prepares to twist the knob into a lock, she peeks out for the last time, surveying the surroundings with mild worry. A neighbor is walking their dog, whistling in the distance. As they approach the mysterious building, the animal begins to bark and the owner scurries to the other side of the street. 

"He's so...strange!" one housewife exclaims, sipping on her lemonade.

Joyce is biting the temple tips of her sunglasses as she carefully inspects the dark haired man, currently using his sharp, spear fingers as barbecue skewers. She's batting her long eyelashes, entranced. She does like her men on the enigmatic side. In fact, she might just have a word with him. She folds the sunglasses and hangs them by the collar of her low-cut blouse. Of course, she doesn't forget her famous ambrosia salad as she departs from the rest of the fidgeting women. 

"Ed, darling. You must try out my signature dish!" she daintily holds up a spoon and attempts to feed the pale newcomer. 

He cautiously opens his mouth, unsure of how else to respond to the gesture. He tries to find Peg within the crowd, hoping she'll give him a new task away from this uncomfortably touchy person. And as luck would have it, his savior has come to the rescue. Peg doesn't hesitate to pull Edward away, cheerfully mumbling a domestic excuse. 

Once freed from the shackles of awkward social interactions, the man tiptoes his way out of the yard and down the street. He doesn't like the constant murmur of people talking. He doesn't understand the jokes, the loud laughs, the complicit slaps on the back. He feels as if he's on the other side of a glass window, separated from an audience demanding cooperation despite him only being able to discern muffled, discontinued meaning. 

None of this was mentioned in the Etiquette book. Or perhaps it has always been there, and the Inventor never got to the specific chapter. Died lamentably before he could explain how one navigates neighborhood BBQ parties.

Edward's step is clumsy and he doesn't have a particular direction in mind. In his scattered daze he nearly trips over something and turns around apologetically. You're sitting on the ground, resting against the fence. The book you were reading is now thrown aside, as you're too busy massaging the ankle that just got kicked by the sudden intruder. You look up, ready to scold the responsible airhead, but your eyes stop on an eccentric feature that catches your attention. 

"What happened to your hands?"

You're a little embarrassed by your unexpected, tactless curiosity. The man seems entirely unfazed, however.

"They weren't finished. I'm incomplete."

"Hmm. Isn't everyone?" 

Edward considers the question and recalls the people he's met so far. Peg and her husband. Joyce. The children. 

"But they don't look unfinished. They have all the body parts."

You chuckle slightly at the literal observation. 

"Well, you can't check them on the inside, can you? Most people have missing parts. Or broken ones."

"Where would you get it fixed, then?" Edward is startled by this new discovery. 

"You learn to fix it yourself. Otherwise it just stays like that, maybe forever."

He lifts his hands and stares at them. Is he going to be like this forever, too? He hasn't pondered the concept of time much before Peg had found him. Yet now, 'forever' feels unsettling. 

"Do your hands bother you that much?"

Edward doesn't know how to reply. He wishes he could resemble everyone else, that much is true. Then people wouldn't stare. And they wouldn't be afraid. As he mulls over the right words, he suddenly becomes aware of his surroundings. It's the house he noticed earlier, when he first arrived here. Which means...

He examines the person before him. They, too, look complete. So why?

"Why does everyone avoid this place?" He remembers the gathering he just left. "You weren't at the neighborhood party either. I thought all neighbors will show up."

"I was never invited."

"Why?"

You shrug.

"You're also not currently attending, are you? Otherwise you wouldn't be here."

"I took a break. It's too loud. Can I sit here?"

Before you can answer, he drops himself next to you with a thud. His fingers swish together as he adjusts his posture. 

"Oh, sorry, I forgot. What is your name? I'm Edward."

"Uhh... (Y/N)." You mutter, taken aback by his direct approach. What an odd fellow, you think to yourself.

"Nice to meet you, (Y/N)." As he scans your features again, he feels compelled to add, "You look rather pretty."

A faint blush takes over your face and you twirl your hair in an attempt to hide it. Is he mocking you? You genuinely can't read his intentions. 

"You don't look too bad yourself, Edward. I think the hands add to your charm." You eventually find the confidence to blurt it out, quickly following up with a laugh.

His heart tightens and he almost forgets about his hazardous extremities, having to stop himself from touching his now throbbing chest. He's never malfunctioned before. It doesn't feel like anything is wrong, either. Your comment, for some reason, made him very happy. 

(Y/N). Looking back to everything that happened, he's glad. Maybe he should thank Joyce next time he sees her. He wouldn't have met you otherwise. 

As the sun begins to set, you remind Edward that it's impolite to leave a party for too long. He protests, stating he prefers your company. As flattered as you are, you rephrase it as Peg being worried about his sudden disappearance and he feels bad enough to agree on his early retirement. On the condition he can hang out with you again. Once you guarantee a reunion, he makes his way back home. 

As he lays on Kim's bizarrely fluid mattress, tucked into the layered pastel sheets, Edward is overwhelmed by a strange, unfamiliar warmth. A wide, childish smile is plastered on his face and won't go away. Each time he closes his eyes to fall asleep, he pictures the encounter. (Y/N). It's a nice name, isn't it? He finds it particularly charming. He whispers it out loud in the dark room, as if making sure it's real. Reminding himself you're real. 

He can't properly explain it. It's the same thick window that stands between him and the world, but you're next to him. An outsider. A rejection. The idea that someone else out there shares his struggle has cleansed him of any longing for acceptance. Why bother with a sea of foreign, smudged faces? Peg becomes Joyce, and Joyce fades into Marge, and they all become a generic crowd of smiling pleasantries. It's a funny thing, being among humans. Once he left his old mansion behind, he realized how truly alone he had been. Still, being surrounded by people he could not comprehend made him feel even more lonely. That is the tragedy; sitting at the grand table, empty handed, unseen, unheard. Misunderstood. No one's fault, really. It just happens. But every now and then, if fate so allows, one might just find another starved attendant. With the same glint in their eyes, of someone not belonging. 

Oh, he can't wait to see you again.

It's unusually noisy outside for a late evening and you can't help but glance out the window. That's when you notice the roaring crowd, trampling in a hysterical march of unknown purpose. You have a bad feeling about it. The horned moon leers down at you like a bad omen and you quickly throw a jacket on, sprinting into the street. 

"What's this all about?" you shyly ask the nearest group. 

"Witch!" Esmeralda scowls at you with a pointing finger. 

Peg notices the commotion and runs towards you, completely disregarding the prophetic warnings of the woman. 

"Oh, (Y/N). It's Edward. They..." she sighs, frustrated. "I know I don't have the right to ask you this, but you're his friend. Could you please make sure he's alright?" Her voice is pleading and regretful. 

You nod without saying anything else. Before you turn to leave, you swiftly gesture to Esmeralda, raising your index fingers up and mimicking a devilish look. She gasps and throws her hands together in prayer.

It had to be done. 

Meanwhile, Edward has reached his old mansion and just now stopped in the entrance hall, panting anxiously. He feels nauseous and helpless. It's not that he's being chased by the enraged members of the neighborhood that alarms him. He cannot stand the possibility of not being in your presence ever again. How frightful, how agonizing! He claws at a nearby column in turmoil. 

It can't be, it won't happen. He'll tear his way through the masses if he has to. Oh, what a terrible thought. His Inventor would roll in the grave if he knew the violent ruminations that plague him right now. But if he has no other choice...Would he go as far as taking someone's life if it was for your sake? Well, technically speaking, his sake, really. He wants to see you. He needs to.

Panic slowly creeps through his body. The thoughts are piling up in an erratic hum and he can't find his focus again. He paces back and forth, attempting to recollect himself, but there's an urgency that drowns him in cold sweat. 

"Edward?"

The ringing stops. A switch has been flipped and he snaps his head in the direction of the voice. It's you. Completely spellbound, he extends his hand to touch your face, verifying whether you might be an illusion of his feverish desires instead. The blade pierces your skin, leaving a bright red trail behind. 

"I'm so sorry-" he cries out, realizing his act. 

You softly lower his hand with a reassuring smile. 

"It's just a small cut. Don't worry about it. I think we have more important matters at hand, won't you agree?" you joke as you nudge your head towards the window. 

"I spoke to the police officer on the way here, so we shouldn't have any surprise guests." 

You remove your jacket and throw it over some dusty furniture before climbing up the stairs. Halfway through you briefly stop and urge Edward to join you. He simply nods.

When the issue is settled and everything has been said and done, will you return to your miserable exile? Won't the neighbors become suspicious if you're frequently seen sneaking up the hill? Perhaps even the utmost secrecy won't prolong the visits much. 

And then what?

As he considers the potential scenarios, he becomes increasingly impatient. The joy of your return has been tainted by the impending doom of abandonment. He wishes you'd just stay with him here, forever. 

Once the conclusion has been reached, he lets out a quiet apology. Maybe to you, maybe to the beloved Inventor, maybe even to himself. He inserts a finger into the entrance lock and silently twists it. 

You must forgive him. Or at least try to understand him. He just loves you too much, (Y/N). Is it truly such a hideous crime? To want to keep you safe? If so, he will live with the guilt. But not without you. 

You're home. 

[millenianthemums]

chapter 5 of the fic is here! it took me a while to finish the art this time. i know i said i’d put less effort into the pieces to avoid burnout, but they’re just so fun… rendering things like this is so relaxing fsr.

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INDEX

NEXT

————

Bill trudged out onto the mud soaked lawn, eager to put as much distance as possible between himself and this godforsaken house. Even the woods, still soaked in darkness as the first rays of sunlight failed to reach them, appealed to him more than the Mystery Shack. Knowing he’d been dragged in there while he couldn’t fight back, he’d slept in there, under the Pines family’s floor… just the thought made his skin crawl. Seemed like even killing him wasn’t enough for them. They just had to keep humiliating him every chance they got. Offering to “help” him after everything they did was just sadistic, even for him. He’d have to remember it for the next time he had an enemy at his mercy.

He had to get out of here. Just being here was infuriating. Plus, if the kid was right about Ford being up, he might get spotted. And chances were, Ford wouldn’t be satisfied with destroying his life just once.

At the thought of Ford, Bill clenched his fists so tight that his claws pierced into his palms. This was all Ford’s fault. He’d ruined everything. He’d drawn Bill in with that sweet, innocent nerd routine, acting all impressed and grateful, listening to his stories, laughing at his jokes, making all those stupid promises about eternal fealty and partnership, and then the instant he sensed a single drawback to their deal, suddenly Bill was nothing to him. One little misstep and suddenly nothing they’d done together meant anything, because it never had, not really. All he’d ever cared about was the perks, the knowledge, the secrets of the universe, blah blah blah, he’d never cared about Bill. Not even a little. Why had Bill ever fallen for it?! If only he’d gotten anyone else to build the portal…

He stopped in his tracks. The portal. This stupid flesh brain was going to be the death of him. How had he almost forgotten about the portal?! Sure, it was deactivated, but it had to still be there! Even if it was in pieces, he knew better than anyone how to put it back together. He just had to get it running again, just for a second, and then all his problems would be over! He could get back to the Nightmare Realm, grab his power source, and be back in business!

He hadn’t crossed over the stupid Bill-proof barrier around the shack yet, on the off-chance it might still affect him. Just to be sure, he stuck close to the outer wall as he crossed around to the back door of the gift shop. It was locked, of course, but Bill hadn’t forgotten everything. The birch trees near the house had given him plenty of angles to see where Stan and that dopey employee of his looked for the spare key when they locked themselves out. Sure enough, it was still tucked under the same fake rock nestled against the stairs. As quietly as possible, he eased the door open and stepped inside.

The place was as dark and empty as he’d hoped. Hokey glass-eyed chimeras, stitched together from whatever random taxidermy scraps the thrift store or dump had to offer, leered down at him from every angle as he crept across the room, hiding in the blind spots of the security cameras. This place hadn’t gotten any less embarrassing in the months since he’d seen it; if anything, it looked kitschier and dumber than ever. The random garbage being passed off as “magical objects��� and the taxidermy crimes against nature weren’t even trying to look convincing, but perhaps because of that, they were weirder and more eye-catching than ever. As much as he hated to give Stanley Pines any kind of credit, Bill had to admit the sheer level of silliness and brazen, gleeful fraud on display was pretty admirable.

The vibe of the Mystery Shack might have changed a little, but thankfully, the layout hadn’t. The vending machine marking the secret basement door was still right where he’d expected it to be. Those chumps hadn’t even bothered to change the passcode. As he scurried down the stairs, the first genuine laugh since his resurrection began to bubble up from his throat. This was almost too easy.

The laugh died a sudden, violent death the instant he rounded the corner and looked out into the basement.

The portal still seemed to be technically there. Most of it, at least. But the massive, triangular frame had been knocked over and shattered into pieces across the stone floor. The metal was twisted, charred, every visible surface bearing scars and dents as if someone had spent months on end viciously attacking it with every available weapon. Not a single remaining component was unscathed; anything salvageable must have been scavenged for parts. The monolithic structure, this thing that represented millenia of planning and years upon years of hard work and partnership, now resembled nothing more than a heap of scrap metal. Torn apart. He literally tore the damn thing apart.

Bill felt his knees buckle beneath him. He caught himself just before toppling over, slamming a hand against a countertop and leaning against it. This couldn’t be real. Someone had to be playing a sick prank on him. They shattered it. They literally shattered his only lifeline, again. This was a torment he’d pass up for being too on the nose. He was laughing again, but there was no joy in it this time. He just couldn’t help it. This was all just too funny.

Still doubled over with laughter, he started grasping across the counter for something to break. Something to throw as hard as he could, or crush in his hands, or something. Anything. He didn’t care if he made noise, didn’t care if he got caught. He just wanted to destroy something. But of course, just his luck, the countertop was totally clear…

Wait. It was not like Ford to keep a clean countertop.

Bill pushed himself up and took his first clear look at the lab he was standing in. As his eye swept across the cavernous basement, a glimmer of hope started building inside him. Aside from the wreckage of the portal, the place was completely empty. Stripped right down to the floorboards. Squinting, he made out the vague impressions left behind where he’d disturbed the layers of dust coating everything. He was the first living thing to set foot down here in months.

Ford had moved his lab upstairs. Bill put a hand to his face, reeling from the shock of delight. Oh, that poor idiot. He’d ventured up out of his sad little cave to be closer to his precious family. And he’d left the remnants of the portal unguarded.

And why not? The big bad triangle was dead. There was no reason to think he’d ever come back for it. After all, with all that damage, even with Bill’s intricate knowledge of the device’s construction, it would take him months of nonstop work to get it even close to operable again. And there was no way he’d be able to sneak in and out of the shack that many times without being seen by anybody.

Unless he was in the shack the whole time.

Another laugh burst out of him, and this one was pure, utter glee. His old pal Shooting Star had come through for him again. She’d handed him the answer to all his problems on a silver platter, and he’d almost missed it! He’d thought it was too easy, that nobody would ever be that generous to somebody they knew would turn on them, who already tricked them the same way once… but he definitely wasn’t complaining. If Shooting Star really thought helping him was a good idea, he was more than happy to let her keep thinking that.

He’d need to make this convincing, he told himself as he snuck back out the way he came. He’d need to really sell the sob story. Make it seem like he had no chance at surviving even one day without her help. He’d have to swallow his pride a little– maybe even a lot. But it would all be worth it in the end. Shooting Star thought he was a helpless sad sack she could win over with pity, so he would play that part. Just for a little while. Just long enough to get the portal up and running. And then he’d never have to answer to anyone else again.

And he’d show her and her whole family just how far pity would get them.

-

After Mabel had watched Bill scramble out the window with all the poise and grace of a drunk raccoon, she’d trudged upstairs, face planted onto her bed, and passed out within seconds. She didn’t move again until after 1 PM, when Dipper helped Waddles clamber up onto her bed and she was forced to wake up or be crushed to death.

As the enormous pig did his best to climb up and settle on Mabel’s back, she wheezed in protest and flailed out from under him, slumping face-first onto the floor. She aimed a beleaguered stare up at Dipper, who looked entirely too pleased with himself, and said “Et tu, Brute?”

“Definitely not how to pronounce that,” Dipper said with a snort. “Waddles missed you. He wanted to make sure you were alive.”

“I am, no thanks to you guys,” Mabel said with a giggle. Dipper grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet, and she cupped Waddles’ face and rubbed his big cheeks. “You’re not a lap pig anymore, Mr. Sir! You’re the size of a fridge!”

Waddles stretched out contentedly until his widdle back hooves dangled off the mattress, shoving his face into Mabel’s hands. Turns out farm hogs don’t stay adorably travel-sized for long; in less than nine months, he’d gone from fitting snugly in a backpack to almost being big enough to ride. She hadn’t convinced him to stand up with her on his back yet, but she suspected it was less about strength and more about motivation. He always just stared at her like “I know you have legs, bestie.”

In any case, his adorability had only increased as he grew. Mabel gave him a tiny kiss on his flat pink nose, and he oinked softly in response.

“I still can’t believe he even fit on the bus,” Dipper said, patting Waddles on the tummy. “It’s a miracle the bus driver let us bring him.”

“I think he was scared of us,” Mabel laughed. “Probably thought Waddles’d eat him.”

Dipper scoffed. “This guy won’t eat carrots if they’re too crunchy. He’s not gnawing through human bones.”

“I dunno, that bus driver looked kinda calcium deficient.”

Dipper laughed and nudged her shoulder. “C’mon, goofball, go get changed. We’re hitting the lake today, remember?”

—

That lake day was the best day of the summer thus far. Every day they’d been back here– except maybe yesterday– had been the best day of the summer thus far. They hadn’t taken a boat out; Stan and Ford both agreed they’d spent more than enough time on a boat recently, thank you very much. They just found a good spot on the beach and swam, and skipped rocks, and attempted a game of volleyball (none of them were any good at spiking the ball, and it devolved into dodgeball pretty quick), and just goofed around together like a normal family. After all the drama last year, it was just so unbelievably awesome that she and her three favorite people could finally just be a normal, happy family.

Eventually, the sun made its way to the other end of the sky. Mabel had brought her bike along in the car trunk, planning to ride it home just for fun. Once the sunlight turned orange and the shadows started to stretch, Stan pointed out that she’d need to head back soon to catch the last of the daylight. She agreed she’d rather not have to bike home in the dark twice in two days, so she waved goodbye to everybody, joked that now somebody else would finally have a turn to win at dodgeball, and set off for home.

If she had a choice, Mabel seldom preferred to do anything alone. Maybe it was just because she was a twin, and had spent her whole life with a teammate, a best friend who was always there to watch her back while she watched his. Maybe growing up that way meant she never learned how to be alone without feeling like a turtle without its shell. But whatever the reason, if she spent too long by herself, it started to feel like drowning.

But sometime last fall, she’d realized just how fast she could go on a bike. And suddenly she just couldn’t get enough of it, and Dipper, bless him, he’d tried his best to keep up with her, but his poor nerd legs just couldn’t pedal that fast. So she’d told him she preferred solo biking now, and he’d gratefully accepted the excuse not to accompany her on her daily rides.

She really did love the speed. Watching the trees zip by until they blurred into a solid wall of green, feeling the wind lift her hair so it flowed behind her like a tail, keeping pace with crows gliding through the sky above. It was worth a little solitude. And if Dipper knew she’d rather he go with her, he’d bust a lung or fall over and break his arm, or at the very least be uncomfortable and embarrassed the whole time. So it wasn’t a big deal. Really, she was fine with it. Right now, as she traced the twisting road up into the rolling, forested hills and toward the Mystery Shack, she felt almost completely content. Watching the clouds roll gently overhead, catching glints of orange and pink from the setting sun, the songs of birds and crickets washing away any pesky thoughts as she let herself be absorbed into this moment–

“AAAAAUGH!”

Mabel slammed the handlebars sideways and sent her bike careening off the pavement as a flash of gold raced past, just barely fast enough to not collide with her. She couldn’t look at it and save her bike from crashing down the steep hill beside the road at the same time, so by the time she’d managed to wrangle it to a stop, it was gone from sight. But that shrill scream she’d heard, the one she’d mistaken for a fox earlier, hadn’t gone away. And the road wasn’t empty. More small shapes were racing across it, chasing the thing, and these ones were all too recognizable. Her hunch was confirmed when one of them lost its footing and didn’t quite clear the brush at the edge of the forest. An antler snagged against a branch, and a tiny thing covered in sandy brown fur started screeching and thrashing around so violently that Mabel grabbed her grappling hook on impulse. Finally it broke free and joined the pack chasing after the screaming gold thing. Jackalopes. Dozens of the mean little things. And she had a pretty good idea who they were after.

She swung her bike around, and against her better judgment she biked after the throng of bunnies. Sure enough, she was proven right yet again. Just a few dozen feet past the tree line, Bill Cipher, the antagonist of most of her worst recent nightmares, was trying to balance on the top branch of a pine sapling just barely large enough to support his weight, as the jackalopes gathered at its base and leapt up at him, jabbing with their sharp antlers, almost but not quite able to jump as high as he’d climbed. Bill hadn’t stopped screaming since she’d first heard him.

This was certainly one way to cure a phobia.

Mabel jumped off her bike and threw the back trunk open. Frantically, she rifled around through her emergency supplies; multitool, slingshot, glowsticks, sack of ball bearings, fake gold jewelry for tricking fey… maybe Dipper was right about traveling light…

“ARE YOU PLANNING ON HELPING?!” Bill had spotted her, and most of his fear had turned into indignance.

“One second!” Mabel yelled, tossing snacks and weapons aside.

“OH, NO RUSH! TAKE YOUR TIME, NOT LIKE THERE’S ANYTHING URGENT GOING ON– OW!!!” He screeched; Mabel whipped her head around to see that one of those antler jabs had caught him in the ankle. Shiny silver blood poured from the gash.

Mabel wrenched the basket off the bike and dumped it out onto the ground. Finally, her target was revealed: an air horn. She raced toward the frenzy of rabbits and held it aloft. “Hey!” she roared, and just as the jackalopes turned their attention to her, she slammed down on the button as hard as she could.

A shrill, deafening honk crashed against every tree in the forest, filling the air with sound. The jackalopes, as one, all screeched in agony, recoiling from the horn and flattening their ears against the noise. A bold one bared its fangs at her, but she pointed the horn closer and kept the button held down, and soon every jackalope had retreated into the woods. Once they were out of sight, she released the button, and the world was just dull ringing for a few seconds, until her hearing returned with the sound of a sapling breaking in half.

She turned to see Bill lying prone on the ground again, painfully picking himself up. She considered offering her hand, then figured that would just embarrass him further, then figured she didn’t really care and reached toward him anyway. He glared up at her. For a second, he seemed to consider accepting it, but then he stood up on his own with a pained grunt, grabbing the top half of the broken tree and steadying himself on it like a cane to keep the weight off his injured leg. Mabel winced as she realized it was the same one Scout had gotten ahold of the other day. At least he had one leg that maybe didn’t hurt?

“...You okay?” Mabel asked, after a long silence.

His eye turned to stare at her disdainfully. “WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE.”

She stared back at him for a second, assessing. Then she looked away again, examining the trees. She could see that he could see that she could see he looked terrible. He was all scraped up again, his old wounds not quite healed yet and joined by lots of new ones. His legs were caked to the knees with dried mud, probably from a long day of wading through the river and falling down ledges and stepping in gopher holes. He was teetering in place, visibly exhausted. His hat looked almost spotless, like he’d been shielding it at all costs, but his bow tie was in dire need of a spin cycle. And his arms and legs were more bug bites than skin at this point.

She figured she should say something. Fidgeting nervously with her sweater sleeve, she said “It looks like you forgot bug spray.”

To her surprise, he laughed. It was a short, loud bark of a laugh, but it was a laugh. She looked back at him to see he was sitting on the ground, leaning his face against his hands. He looked up at her. “YOU GUYS REALLY JUST LIVE WITH MOSQUITOS, HUH. THEY’RE JUST… AROUND. ALL THE TIME.”

“Well, not in winter,” Mabel offered.

Bill laughed again. It was a little bit more like a real laugh this time; still definitely not happy, more numb bemusement, but it felt like an improvement. “GREAT!” he said. “JUST SIX MORE MONTHS.” He covered his face again.

Mabel looked down at him, watching cautiously. Her hand was tight around the handle of her grappling hook, ready for trouble, just in case this was somehow all a trap. Heck, maybe this was all part of his plan. Maybe he lured out those jackalopes and got himself into a second near-death experience just so she could find him and completely let her guard down. Maybe this was just a big, elaborate, 4D chess evil mastermind long con.

Suddenly he looked up and shouted “WHAT?!?” Mabel jumped back, and by pure muscle memory, her hand shot up to brandish the grappling hook. Unfortunately, her hands had gotten sweaty from all the excitement, and as the hook reached the peak of its arc, she lost her grip on it completely. It sailed out of her grasp, whipped through the air and hit Bill in the side of the face with a loud, solid CLONK.

Bill clutched his head where she’d hit him, too shocked to even yell in pain. Mabel was quicker to react. “Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean– hang on…” She sifted through her pockets and grabbed her bag of band-aids, and before even thinking about what she was doing, she was already kneeling beside him and pressing a starry band-aid over the bleeding welt between his scales.

Bill recoiled from her touch again, pupil dilated in terror as he scrambled backwards. Mabel pulled back quickly, raising her hands. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, throat clenched tight from panic at the thought that he might strike back.

They both noticed the grappling hook at the same time. It had landed in the grass right next to Bill, easily within reach. Slowly, to her terror, he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. She clenched her hands into fists at her sides, her last line of defense. Like Grunkle Stan had taught her: when all else fails, there’s always punching.

But he didn’t shoot her. Instead, he turned the grappling hook over again and extended an arm, holding it out to her handle-first.

Mabel looked at him appraisingly for a second, then slowly reached out and took the grappling hook from him. She returned it to its holster, and then hesitantly held out the bag of band-aids. “Your leg’s still bleeding,” she said softly. “You can pick.”

Bill sighed and accepted the band-aids. Sifting through, he muttered, “YOU GOT A LOT OF THESE STAR ONES, HUH.”

Mabel gave an apologetic laugh. “I like stars,” she said.

Bill let out a soft chuckle in return. After a bit more searching, he chose another star-patterned band-aid and handed the bag back.

“Well, uh… I’ll get out of your hair,” Mabel said awkwardly, starting to scoop all her supplies into the basket and shove it back into place on her bike. “I know you said you didn’t want my help��”

“WAIT,” Bill said. She turned back to look at him; he looked like he was about to say something he really didn’t want to say.

“LOOK,” he said. “I… I DON’T KNOW WHERE I’M GOING. I DON’T HAVE A PLAN, OR ANYWHERE TO STAY, I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHEN I’M GONNA HAVE FOOD AGAIN. I THINK AT THIS POINT…” he took a deep breath and forced the last words out with the air, “...I NEED ALL THE HELP I CAN GET. IF YOUR OFFER STILL STANDS, I’LL TAKE IT.”

Mabel didn’t know what to say. She was stunned, full deer-in-the-headlights paralyzed. She twisted the edge of her sweater tight in her hands, trying to ground herself. She knew this was a bad idea. She knew she’d regret it. But in some strange way, she knew there was only one way this could go. She’d made the offer already. There was no going back.

“You’ll have to stay hidden for a while,” she said. “At least until I figure out how to tell Dipper and the Grunkles. And you’ll have to stay close by, so I know you’re not sneaking out to do evil world domination stuff. I’ll help you out with food and stuff, but you have to play by my rules as long as you’re staying with us, or you’re on your own.” She stared straight into his eye. “And you have to swear, on pain of death, that you won’t hurt anybody.”

He stared back evenly. “I SWEAR.”

She held his gaze. This seemed way too easy. “You’re really not gonna stab me in the back?”

“KID,” he said wearily. “I WOULDN’T DO THIS IF I HAD ANY OTHER OPTION. IF I STABBED YOU NOW, I’D GO DOWN WITH YOU.”

Mabel took in a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. Just for a little while. As long as you promise not to make me regret this.”

“YOU GOT YOURSELF A DEAL.” Bill extended a hand for her to shake, seemingly as a reflex. Just as reflexively, Mabel flinched back, expecting it to erupt in blue fire like it did last summer. But it didn’t take long for them both to realize, with embarrassment, that things didn’t work like that anymore.

“We’re not shaking on it,” Mabel said. Bill put his hand back down, looking glad for the excuse.

Mabel finished packing up and climbed back onto her bike. “We should hurry if we wanna beat the others to the shack,” she said. “C’mon, get in the basket.”

Bill looked affronted. “SORRY. WHAT?!”

Mabel pointed to the front basket, in case that was where the confusion lay.

“WHAT AM I, A BUSHEL OF TURNIPS?! I’M NOT RIDING IN THE BASKET!”

“I mean, this isn’t a two-seater, so the other option is walking all the way there on that leg,” Mabel said with a shrug. “Which is fine if you really want. I won’t stop you. I’d just much rather ride on the bike if it were up to me. I’d be worried about being stuck out here after dark, and if the jackalopes come back–”

“ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT! I GET IT!” Bill clambered up into the basket. Just like last time, he fit perfectly. He looked furious about it.

As they cycled along the trail, gliding between slowly deepening shadows and bright patches of golden sunlight, Mabel could tell Bill was nodding off. “You can sleep if you want,” she said. “I’m a smooth driver. I carried you all the way to the shack in that basket last night, and you didn’t wake up once.”

“DON’T TELL ME THAT,” Bill groaned, straining to stay awake. “HASN’T MY DIGNITY SUFFERED ENOUGH?”

“Not even close,” Mabel said.

—

Mabel suspected Bill had drifted off by the time they reached the shack. But when she stopped the bike in the driveway, he jolted to awareness and lurched out of the basket as fast as he could. He stumbled and brushed himself off, looking like he’d faced the worst indignity of his life. “LET’S GET INSIDE QUICK,” he said, striding purposefully ahead of Mabel. “I DON’T WANT TO GET SPOTTED, I’VE HAD ENOUGH STRESS FOR ONE DAY–”

Then he seemed to smack his head on thin air. With a yelp, he staggered back away from the invisible obstacle, holding his face like he’d been zapped by something. Mabel trotted up to him, just in time to see a shimmer of light flash across an invisible membrane in the air, highlighting the shapes of strange runes and symbols as it slid up across a massive dome that seemed to encase the entire Mystery Shack.

“Oh yeah,” she said thoughtfully. “That.”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?” Bill shrieked. “I DON’T HAVE ANY OF MY POWERS, BUT THAT STUPID DOME STILL WORKS?! HOW IS THAT FAIR?! I HAVE TO BE STUCK AS A MISERABLE PATHETIC MEATSACK AND STILL DEAL WITH ALL THE STUPID CURSES AND SHIT FROM BEFORE?!? WHAT NEXT, AM I ALLERGIC TO PEANUTS TOO?!? WHAT KIND OF ABSOLUTE x7*&^@^%%$--” he cut himself off and glanced back at Mabel, wincing. “DON’T REPEAT THAT,” he said to her.

“I don’t even know what it was,” Mabel said honestly. She thought maybe a bug had buzzed past her ear while he was talking, because she’d totally missed that last word somehow. Also her vision was a little fuzzy for a second, but then she blinked and it was normal again.

“You passed through the barrier just fine when you were asleep in the basket,” she pointed out.

Bill sighed heavily. “CAN YOU STOP MENTIONING THAT?”

“I’m just saying… hmm.” Mabel walked her bike up to where the membrane had been, and crossed it halfway. Then she held out a hand to Bill.

He looked at her, confused and annoyed. She’d tried this twice before and it hadn’t worked, but maybe the third time was the charm. “C’mon, humor me,” she said.

Bill kept staring at her, looking like he wanted to just turn around and walk back into the woods. But then, slowly, he squeezed his eye shut and reached out his hand toward hers. She grabbed it, and he winced like he’d gotten a static shock. His skin was cold, rough and pebbly, like really old leather. She pulled him forward, almost without meaning to– he really did weigh basically nothing– and walked him through the barrier. It was effortless, no indication that anything had been in the way at all. She couldn’t even really tell when exactly they’d passed through it. But regardless, they’d gotten through.

“Knew it!” Mabel released Bill’s hand so she could flap her hands excitedly. “It’s like a vampire thing! You can only enter the shack if one of us invites you in.”

“GREAT,” Bill muttered. He was holding up the hand she’d just let go of, just staring at it, like it had changed in some way he couldn’t quite define. Like holding hands was the most harrowing experience he’d had today.

“Okay, maybe it’s not the best vampire power to have…” Mabel began, trying to lighten the mood. “But at least the sun doesn’t kill you. And you can eat food, and cross running water…”

“YEP,” he cut in, scowling into the distance. “LEARNED THAT FROM EXPERIENCE.”

“...and hold crosses, probably, if you want… and eat garlic! Unless you’re like a cat and it’ll make you sick… and…” Mabel trailed off. “Is it just me or are vampires a downgrade in, like, every way.”

Bill snorted. “IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE A CURSE, KID. DID YOU MISS THAT PART?”

“Well, yeah, I’ve heard boring people call it a curse lots of times, but in those books and movies and shows and stuff it seems like everybody wants to be a vampire!” she protested. “They act like it’s so cool. I mean, I guess you can live forever or something, but, like, you can’t go outside! Or into any building where you don’t know the owner. And Italian food? Forget it! After hundreds of years, that would get sooo old. What’s the point of living forever if it’s no fun?”

Bill shrugged.

“But people always call it a curse for such boring reasons. Like ‘ooh, they’re evil creatures of the night’ or whatever. So I just wrote them off.”

“THAT’S FAIR, ACTUALLY,” Bill chuckled.

“Anyway, the point is,” Mabel concluded, opening the front door and waving Bill in like a fancy bellhop, “Maybe things aren’t great right now, but at least you’re not a vampire. Count your blessings.”

“YEAH, YEAH,” Bill said, rolling his eye as he entered the shack. “I GUESS THINGS COULD BE WO-OOOH WHAT THE HELL IS THAT”

Mabel spun to see what he’d screamed at, hand on her grappling hook again, but was greeted by Waddles lumbering up from the living room to greet her. She squealed with delight and held out her arms to catch his big pudgy head as he shoved it into her sweater, snuffling happily. “I missed you too, baby boy!” she cooed, squishing his chubby pink cheeks as he nuzzled against her.

After a bit, she happened to glance up at Bill, and couldn’t suppress a laugh. He was staring up at Waddles with by far the most baffled expression she’d ever seen in a single eye. “HOW LONG WAS I GONE?” he finally asked, stepping forward and then quickly backing up as Waddles, who was a full head taller than him now, started to snuffle curiously toward him.

“Oh, yeah. It’s June 2013.” Mabel diverted Waddles’ attention with more face rubs, and he went back to cuddling her. “Turns out farm pigs get really big, really fast! My dad was less than pleased!”

Bill just kept staring as Waddles flopped over onto the floor with a heavy thunk, his energy spent. “...NOTED,” he said. He gave the pig a wide berth as he followed Mabel further into the house. As affronted as she was at the notion of anyone finding Waddles “scary”, Mabel couldn’t really blame him for being cautious. There was a non-zero chance that Waddles might mistake him for a piece of cheese at some point.

“That’s why I’m such a good cyclist now, by the way,” Mabel said, leading Bill downstairs toward Gay Baby Jail. “Dad was like, ‘okay, we can keep the pig, but only if you raise enough money to buy all the stuff we need and build a shed for him and stuff!’ So I did a morning paper route every single day for like six months. And Dipper did a bunch of odd jobs to help raise enough money, and in the end we paid for everything Waddles needed and Mom called Dad out like “You signed a CONTRACT, Robert!” So Waddles got to stay.”

“YOU DID HARD LABOR FOR A PIG?” Bill laughed derisively. “YOU COULD’VE JUST BLACKMAILED HIM, KID! I SAW YOUR DREAMS LAST SUMMER, YOU’VE GOT SOME SERIOUS DIRT ON ROB PINES–”

“Anyway,” Mabel said loudly. “My legs are super strong now. Put me on one of those big hamster wheels, I could power California for like a week.” With that, she threw open the door.

Light spilled from the hallway into Gay Baby Jail, and Mabel couldn’t help but wince a bit. She ducked inside and scooped up some of the snack wrappers still lying on the floor. “We can spruce it up a little,” she said. “Add some fun posters, some gamer lights, maybe a lava lamp… more furniture too, ideally… I mean, hey, it’s a blank slate, right? Infinite possibilities! That’s exciting!”

Bill looked around with a half-lidded eye. “MYTHOLOGICAL SCHOLAR, ELECTRICIAN, REALTOR… REGULAR JACK OF ALL TRADES, AIN’T YA?”

“You bet!” Mabel chirped. She knew he was trying to be rude, and she didn’t care. “I can make this work. I’m great at everything. Heck, I bet I can even make it fun!”

Bill laughed. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she thought it sounded more amused than contemptuous. “I’LL TAKE YOU UP ON THAT. SOME CASH COULDN’T HURT RIGHT NOW.”

Through the window above, Mabel heard an engine approaching. “We’ll figure that out later,” she said. “I better go meet them. I’ll be back with food later, the bathroom and stuff’s back there… just stay here until I get back, okay?”

“WAIT, HOLD ON,” he blurted out, and she stopped mid-door-slam. “YOU’RE NOT GONNA TELL THEM I’M HERE. RIGHT?”

“...Yeah. Not yet.” Mabel shifted uncomfortably. “Not until I can think of how to break it to them…”

“KID, LISTEN.” Bill’s voice was grave. “YOUR UNCLES CANNOT FIND OUT ABOUT ME. PINETREE, MAYBE. MAYBE THAT’D BE FINE. BUT STAN AND FORD? NO CHANCE. THEY CAN’T FIND OUT.”

Mabel frowned, clenching the hem of her sweater in her fists. “I mean… I could get them to listen–”

“NO. ” His voice ricocheted around the tiny room. “FORD SPENT HALF HIS LIFE TRYING TO KILL ME AT ALL COSTS. STAN DID KILL ME, AND EVEN IF IT WAS JUST DUMB LUCK, HE MIGHT HIT THAT JACKPOT AGAIN! IF THEY FIND ME HERE, THEY WILL KILL ME, AND I HAVE NO WAY TO STOP THEM. AND I CAN’T GO BACK, OKAY? I’M NOT GOING BACK!!”

Mabel had been backing away on instinct; she realized it when her back hit the wall of the hallway. But the shock snapped her out of her fear, and she stomped back in and yelled “HEY!”

Bill went quiet. He stared at her in shock.

“I don’t want to send you back, Bill,” she said. Her voice was shaking a little, residual fear clinging to her throat, but her tone was firm. “That’s the whole point of all this. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t be here.”

Bill just blinked. For once, he didn’t seem to have anything to say.

“I’m not going to tell them yet,” she said. “And when I do, I’ll warn you first. And I’ll have a plan. I’ll make sure they don’t kill you, okay?” Unless they have to, she added in her head. She figured it went without saying.

“...OKAY. GOOD.” Bill looked off-balance, like he hadn’t expected to get this far.

“And you’ll make sure I don’t regret helping you. Right?”

“RIGHT. PROMISE.” Then, reluctantly, right before the door closed: “...THANK YOU.”

Mabel didn’t buy that for a second. He was definitely up to something. But Stan’s car was pulling up outside, and again, it was too late to backpedal. She gave a short wave and then slammed and locked the door behind her, scurrying upstairs to sit on the couch with Waddles in the living room, like she’d been there all along, just in time to look totally natural when the front door opened.

“Of course there are still a few small issues with the auto-scaling.” Ford’s voice rang through the house. “But really, the problems it causes are negligible.”

“How ‘bout the time that kraken almost sunk the boat because you tried to set it to 1.5 and forgot the decimal?”

“That was human error, Stanley, that had nothing to do with the prototype–”

“Welcome back, guys!” Mabel rushed up to them, Waddles lumbering behind her to shove his face into Dipper’s shirt.

“Hey pumpkin!” Stan ruffled Mabel’s hair. “You really did beat us home!”

“Told you she was fast on that bike!” Dipper said, petting Waddles and trying to stop him from chewing on his hat. “You see now why I couldn’t keep up with her?”

“Yeah, I’m a superhero, basically,” Mabel preened. “Watch, I’ll go carry all the beach stuff inside by myself. It won’t even be hard.”

“No need!” Ford piped up excitedly. With a flourish, he produced a tiny box and what looked like a laser pointer from his coat pocket. Stan started to say something, but before he could get a word out, Ford tossed the box into the air and zapped it with the laser pointer. In a sudden flash of purple light, the box and its contents grew into full-sized beach chairs, pool floaties, picnic supplies and everything else they’d brought to the lake. It all hit the floor with a crash.

“It’s a more efficient take on the shape-changing flashlight you two invented,” Ford explained. “It auto-scans an object’s default dimensions and can rescale them by any multiple you want with the push of a button! Turns out it makes packing a breeze–”

“Sixer!” Stan yelled with a frustrated laugh. “The whole point of using that thing was to not have to carry that stuff to the garage! Now it’s all piled up in front of the door!”

Ford winced. “Oh. Right.”

“I got it!” Mabel leapt into action. Heroically, she grabbed up all the heaviest things in the pile, started to run for the garage, tripped on a chair leg, and fell on her face. She was laughing before she even hit the ground, and soon they all were.

Dipper reached a hand down to help her up. “Hold on, doofus. I got your back.”

—

Luckily for Bill, the walls of his temporary room were insulated enough to drown out almost any sound before it reached the rest of the shack. It would be hard to make enough noise to give himself away.

Unluckily for Bill, Gay Baby Jail was not particularly good at keeping out noise from the rest of the shack. The ceiling, in particular, was like a steel drum with how every step and jump and fumble of the Pines upstairs echoed through it with painful clarity. It sounded like they were playing a rousing game of “Who Can Throw The Heaviest Thing on the Floor”. And the familiar sound of Ford’s obnoxious hiking boots tromping across the floor, like heavy cloven hooves, echoed loudest of all. And Bill was supposed to be the demon here.

He curled up on the beanbag chair and tried to block out the sound with a blanket. Not that he had ears that he knew of, but he had to try something. It wasn’t just the stomping and the crashing. It was the laughing. They were laughing up there, shrill and careless, like a hoard of jackals. This family of traitors and murderers. They put him in the ground, and they were laughing.

He tried to reroute his train of thought. Things weren’t all bad. In fact, they were a lot better now than they were yesterday. He had a roof over his head– thin and noisy as it was– and he had a plan. He just had to wait until they all fell asleep. Then he’d sneak out and assess things. Scope out the area, find out what he needed for the portal and what was here to work with. He knew there were a lot of useful tools and parts hidden in the shack’s various storage rooms, and he knew where to find the things that weren’t here. He had plenty of time to figure it all out.

And best of all, he had an ally. A mole in the enemy camp. His eye crinkled with amusement at the thought. Ford’s own precious little niece working against him in secret. He couldn’t let him find out, of course. But by god, if he ever did, Bill hoped he’d get to see the look on his face.

It was a really lucky break that Shooting Star was the one to find him. The universe owed him a little luck at this point, he supposed. She was the least intolerable of all the Pines by far; that wasn’t a high bar to clear, but it was something. She was compulsively helpful and much too nice for her own good. She was even kind of fun to talk to; her goofy, weird non-sequiturs were hard not to smile at. And she was perhaps the only person in Gravity Falls who was dumb enough to help him.

No. Not dumb. That was the wrong word. She wasn’t dumb, not really. He knew she was clever from how things went last year, and he could tell from their conversations that she wasn’t naive enough to really trust him. She wasn’t dumb. She was something even better. She was optimistic. That meant that even if she saw red flags, even if she started to notice something fishy, chances were good that she’d still look past them, still hold out hope that she was making the right choice. She’d have hope. And that would be her downfall.

His eye drifted shut. Everything would be fine. All the pieces were in place. He just had to play the game until the portal was ready, and then he’d be home free.

The trick would be staying sane until then.