#(meets someone for the first time ever) yeah they have deep seated issues with self esteem because an older second cousin bullied them

[transbot-brian]

My headcanon for Marius is that he is a bad psychologist normally but very rarely he will pull out this god tier analysis of someone from not even five minutes of talking. He can tell you about things youve completely blocked out from memory and when you ask him about it he'll say some shit like "The way you blinked" with no other explanation

[cassiachales]

Journal Entry Five [And Grayson Hawthorne's Very Scandalous Self]

note: i am honestly so sorry for forgetting about this fic and everything T-T. i did have some personal issues, and family troubles, but it's all well now, so expect much better updates in the future! one last part after this!!! also, content warning: a tiny bit of smut taglist: @f4iry-bell, @never-enough-novels, @reminiscentreader, @dahliawarner, @lanterns-and-daydreams,

@welcometomyblog

Sunday– I’ve begun to contemplate on what we are. I mean, you don’t kiss someone just for fun, do you? There’s got to be some feeling in there, because damn it, that kiss was everything I could ever want in a kiss. Slow and rough and honestly? I can’t stop thinking about that kiss. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

After that kiss, you didn’t get the whiskey.

You couldn’t have been expected to, obviously. A hot guy kissed you, and you didn’t really comprehend it until you went home (which was quite literally immediately after–you don’t think you ever saw Xander that confused).

It’s a day after, and you’re writing like your life depends on it. You need to get that kiss off of your mind, but for some reason, you can’t.

Pathetically, you’re not even sad about it.

You’re just happy, and you feel a little bit deranged because you now have the sudden urge to scribble Mrs. Hawthorne all over your journal.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Mrs. *first name* Hawthorne does have a nice ring to it though. Or maybe I’m just delusional. Could be both. Definitely couldn’t be none. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Unknown: Hopefully, this isn’t the wrong number. I wouldn’t put it past Xander to pull this sort of prank.

You’ve been raised to block unknown numbers, but this number? Yeah, you know this number.

You: Unless you’re looking for Sabrina Carpenter, this isn’t the wrong number.

Grayson: Amusing. Xander was telling me about how you know a bit of Economics.

You: Is this your version of flirting?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Then this guy goes and texts me, and I think he can’t flirt. Economics. Really? ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Grayson: Maybe.

You: If you want me to come over and help with your accounting, you just have to ask, Davenport.

Grayson: I do not ask for help.

You: Do you want to meet me today or not?

Grayson: You are going to make me ask, aren’t you?

You: Yes.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── I like to imagine that he let out a very deep exhale, and maybe even one of those sexy chuckles. What? Don’t judge me. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Grayson: Would you like to come over and help with the accounts, madam?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Fuuuuuuck.  How pathetic am I for finding one text hot?? ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Twenty minutes later, you’re in his office in Hawthorne House. You met Xander downstairs, for a brief second.

A brief second in which he gave you a wink.

“Please tell me you didn’t actually need help with the accounts. I’m too tired to do this.”

Grayson smiles, and you see dimples. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Dimples. DIMPLES. HE’S BEEN HIDING DIMPLES. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Just when I thought he couldn’t get any hotter.

“You’re doing that thing again.” He says, half smirk on his face. “Where you say your thoughts out loud.”

You act unaffected, and shrug. “Some truths cannot be hidden, Mr. Hawthorne.”

“Some truths,” he begins to agree, “cannot be hidden.” His eyes come to fully meet yours, and you feel your lips part of their own accord.

His eyes briefly drop to your lips before they meet your eyes again, cold and hot and the same time.

“Some truths,” he gets up from his seat, and walks to yours, which is right opposite his desk. He turns the chair, and kneels in front of you. “Some truths, like how I might be in love with you. Does that count?”

You were the one saying it before, but he’s saying it now. He’s kneeling in front of you, and all you want to do is kiss him.

His hands move away from where they were hanging from his knee, one securing the soft office chair you’re sitting on while the other goes to your feet. Slowly, he removes your heel.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.” He says.

No, whispers.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Grayson Hawthorne knows what to do with his hands. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

His fingers travel up your leg, and you don’t even register that you’re wearing just a skirt and stockings until his fingers come close to that one place. They rest on your thigh, tapping it with four of his fingers.

“Do you want me to? Stop?”

“No.”

You don’t recognise your voice.

His hand moves further up and further within until he touches you right there, and you’re waiting, because all you want is more. His fingers are slow and languorous as they run up and down your length. 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Everything about him is slow. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

They move upwards, teasing the band of your underwear and pulling it down, towards your knees and he lets go, letting it fall to your ankles.

You’re breathless. And you don’t mind.

His fingers go back to where they can torment you better, and slowly, he pushes one finger in. 

You gasp. 

“Hush, love. You can’t let anyone hear you.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── His voice is soft. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Leisurely, he brings his finger out, adding another and he pushes back in. Your heart is racing and you feel your eyes burning up, but you can’t stop looking at him below you, with his head tilted as he looks at you, slow smile and full eyes. 

Your breathing turns ragged after a while, and any longer and you feel like you might forget to breathe.

“Please.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── He’s gentle. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

His fingers move faster at your plea.

You can’t breathe anymore, and you feel like you’re reaching a high.

You’re running up a hill, waiting to go back down but you don’t want to. Not just yet.

You’re addicted to this feeling.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Grayson Hawthorne is the perfect gentleman. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Let go, love.” He whispers.

With a cry, you fall from the hill. 

You both stay still for a while, you regaining your breath and he caressing your thigh. 

It feels loving.

Slowly, he helps you up, and kneels down again to raise your underwear up to your hips again.

“I’m usually more of a gentleman.” He says, apologetically. “Bedrooms and blinds, not an office chair. But you were there, looking so beautiful, I’m afraid I couldn’t help myself.”

“You don’t need to apologise.” You say, bringing your forehead to his. They meet in the middle. 

You laugh. “I liked it, actually. Better than bedrooms and blinds.”

He chuckles, and he kisses you softly. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Journal Entry Four

[infinitesuckuyome]

Sugar Daddy Obito

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact:

❥ Obito would definitely have you be a live-in sugar baby, so he could protect & look after you + he’s very clingy & wants to have you as close to him as possible.

❥ Obviously he’d take care of any and all monetary issues, but in return he wants to have someone around who genuinely cares for his well-being. 

Doing things like: cheering him up when he’s feeling down (since he can be very self-critical, having you be there for him will help get rid of those self-depreciating habits), listening when he needs to vent about work/personal issues, making him laugh when he gets too tense, and generally being there to turn his residence into a place of happiness/warmth/love - a home that he’s actually happy to come back to at the end of the day.

❥ He’s a bit of a workaholic, has always put his career first and that hasn’t given him much time to actually go out and meet people, let alone explore the things he’s into. This man is wound up so tight & is touch deprived as hell- he didn’t even realized how bad it was until he met you...then everything just hit him all at once. 

❥ Obito is very shy when it comes to women - always feeling like he’s saying the wrong things or being too awkward. The boldest thing he’s ever done is asking you to enter into this arrangement. How he was able to fumble his way through that?... he’ll never know.

❥ At the beginning of your arrangement, he was super vanilla and extremely nervous - Obito didn’t have much experience outside of a couple one night stands here & there, so he had no idea how to ask for what he wanted / was afraid to scare you off. He just can’t help but get flustered around you, but luckily for him, you knew exactly how to coax things out of your sweet sugar daddy.

“Welcome home!” you chirp, pulling him into the foyer by his tie, guiding him to take a seat at the luxurious leather couch that sat in the middle of his living room. 

He looked so mesmerized, letting out an involuntary moan as you sat on his lap. His hands came up to your hips, kneading at the plush flesh. He never imagined what it would be like to have someone to come home to- he certainly never imagined he’d be coming home to someone so...stimulating. Obito felt like every cell and fiber of his being was buzzing. He felt almost overwhelmed, heart racing as his cock twitched insistently, causing a deep blush to appear on his cheeks.

“How was your day?” you asked, draping your arms loosely around his neck. 

“M-my day?” he repeated, confused about why you’d be interested in such a trivial matter. 

“Mhm, I wanna know” you husked, rolling your hips against him. 

“I- ahh just don’t want to bore you, Angel. It’s nngh- not important.” Obito’s head dipped back, barely able to string words together- all he could focus on was the way you were rubbing up against him. 

“Okay then, let’s talk about something else, hm?” You suggest, hopping off his lap. Obito whined at the loss of contact, giving you a disappointed pout. 

A giggle left your lips at the face he made as you slide your panties down your legs, throwing them aside. “Why don’t you take these off so I can sit on your cock and we can talk about all the things you want to do to me...” you trailed off, tugging at his belt. 

“Okay, ye-yeah let’s do that!” he rasped, eagerly complying. 

You pumped him a few times before straddling his lap, slowly sinking down on his length. “Fuck” Obito groaned, dark eyes gazing into yours. 

“You like that daddy?” you asked, taking his hand and placing your cheek in his palm, nuzzling against it. 

“Uh-huh” he moaned, nodding dumbly.

You smiled at his response. “What else do you like? Tell your Angel how to make you feel good.” 

❥ Obito isn’t used to receiving such intimate affection, so he gets worked up pretty easily. Deep slow kisses, tracing the curve of his lip with your tongue, lightly nipping at his jaw - it all gets him so aroused that he just whimpers & moans against you.  

❥ He absolutely adores when you shower him with attention as soon as he gets home, claims it helps him “re-charge”. You’re literally his favorite person in the world & he lives for the warmth you give him. 

“Daddy, you’re back!” you squeal, launching yourself into his arms. 

“Hnng- fuck yes!” Obito sighs dreamily. “Daddy’s home baby, come here! he hugged you tightly, burying his face in your neck. ~ This makes his whole day of toiling away at work worth every minute, knowing that he’d be coming home to someone so excited to see him. 

❥ Obito Uchiha: The ultimate slut for domesticity 

❥ He can get stressed fairly easily, though he’ll never complain about it & has the tendency to overwork himself- this man was just a ball of stress before you came into his life. Now though, he’s got you to remind him when he needs to take a break and show him how to relax for once in his life.

Sure, he’s daddy, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve to be looked after; reassure Obito that you’re there to look after him too, not just the other way around. 

❥ Whenever Obito works from home and it looks like he needs to chill out for a bit, just come up behind him to rest you chin on his shoulder. Nibble at his earlobe while raking your nails down his chest~

“Daddy, how much longer?” you complain. 

“I’m almost done baby, I promise.” he assures you. 

“You work too hard, has anyone ever told you that?” you sighed. 

“I may have heard that before” he says sheepishly. 

“Then take a break...please, please just a little one.” you whine against his jaw. ~and just like that he’s dragging you off to bed.

❥ Obito loves bubble baths, especially after a long day when he just wants to relax and have you close to him. Massage his scalp or shoulders and he’ll make the cutest whines & groans. Kick it up a notch by pressing your soapy boobs against his back to make him instantly hard.

Ask him tedious little questions like what he wants for breakfast the next day or if there’s anywhere he wants to go during the weekend- he’ll do his best to respond coherently but just ends up stuttering through it all because, how can he give you a straight answer when everything you’re doing feels so fucking fantastic?

Slowly trail your hands down to pump his shaft, his head will fall back against you as he shallowly rocks his hips against your hand. ~ he’s in heaven

❥ Clingy Daddy Obito who’s cuddles always turn into him humping you because he can’t help himself- he’s touch starved and stressed af & you’re so beautiful, you feel so damn good, you smell so nice...fuck it makes him lightheaded. Good luck getting him to let you get out of bed on the weekends, it’s just going to be a non-stop cuddly fuck-fest! Stay hydrated.

❥ He’s so damn thorough, total body worship king - will kiss/grope/lick anything he can get his big grabby hands on!

❥ When it comes to you, Obito fells like he can’t ever get enough. No matter how long he holds you, no matter how much he cuddles you, no matter how often he touches you- he needs more.

❥ Often stutters when he’s fucking you because you feel so tight/warm all around him, lots of grunts and broken moans of “thank you” & “love you” in your ear- he just can’t believe he gets to be inside of you whenever he wants.

❥ Is literally too shy to buy you lingerie or bedroom costumes on his own, so when you bring up something that catches your eye or that you want to try out- he so soo thrilled. Really appreciates that you take initiative & surprise him with something new you ordered. All the tension drains from his body and he can just get lost in the moment with you.

❥ During sex, if you coo about how handsome he is or how much you want him to fill you up- it’ll make his eyebrows crease & heart flutter while he pants out that he’s not gonna last long. Blushes so pretty when you give him praise and always has a look of surprise like he’s thinking “Is she really talking about me??”

❥ Run your fingers through his hair and he’ll melt for you... after work, first thing in the morning, while you’re making out, when his head is between your thighs- it’s always a good time to play with his hair.

❥Obito gets so turned on when you talk dirty to him, especially if it comes out of nowhere. 

“You’re so cute, Angel.” Obito sighs, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“If you think I'm so cute then why am I not choking on your cock rn? You ask with a pout.

*Obito.exe has stopped working”

❥ He has so much fun shopping with you; whether it’s at the grocery store where he lets you dictate what should be on the menu that week, or if you two are out shopping for clothes where he happily watches as you model outfit after outfit for him ~ more than anything, he enjoys being able to spoil someone he adores. 

❥ You wear the prettiest outfits when he takes you out, Obito loves anything you wear, but will get super territorial when he catches others staring. Will death glare or straight up knock someone out if he catches them gawking at you for too long. “Anything more than 3 seconds is a challenge.”

Always fucks you roughly when you get back home because he’s still annoyed about earlier & needs to remind himself that your his. “Look at this cute little pussy, who does it belong to, Y/N? Tell me” he growls into your ear, possessiveness raging within him. 

“Yours, it’s all yours daddy!” you mewl, wrapping your legs around him. 

❥You bought a body chain once & Obito lost his damn mind. He’d only ever used chains in combat, so there was something incredibly erotic about seeing them on your body. The delicate metal wrapped around your neck, trailing down to nestle between your cleavage while temptingly framing the curve of your hips. Makes his mouth water~

❥ Buys you a custom anklet with his initials, thinking about how cute it’ll look when your legs are shaking in the air. Anytime he’s rutting into you and hears the soft jingle of the charms clinking together, it brings a smile to his face. Now he’s obsessed with buying you all kinds of jewelry. 

❥ His Sharingan activates when he gets extra worked up, but that ends up working out really well for him, he can replay all the moments he spends with you.

❥ Physical touch is Obito’s love language. You have no idea how much he needs you and your affection; it really does keep him grounded and sane. All your love and adoration are compensating for the years he felt alone & undeserving of having someone by his side. 

❥ He lives for your touch, even simple touches like resting your hand on his thigh, reaching for his hand when you’re out in public, leaning your head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat while he gazes down at your lovely face- it all makes him fall even harder for you. 

❥ Always whines for more kisses and cuddles, he’s such a sweet needy daddy, letting all the rougher parts of his persona fade away when he’s with you because you’re his sanctuary where nothing else matters- just you & him. Obito feels like you’re what holds his life together & without you, he’s afraid he’d retreat back into the darkness. You’re the light of his life and he’s going to treat you as such. 

Warnings: Language, NSFW, Petplay, Daddy Kink, Kink Exploration, Light Degradation, Unprotected Sex

Helping Obito figure out his kinks had been more fun than you expected. You bit your lower lip, thinking about how adorable he always looked when he found something new he was into- the way his eyes lit up, cheeks flushed deeply and how he’d cum so hard that his whole body shook. The one-year anniversary of you arrangement was coming up and you wanted to do something special that would help Obito step into the more dominant role he’d been working up to. Even after all this time he was still a bit shy, so you decided to step it up and give him the little push he needed. 

The first time you asked him to be rougher with you, he was so nervous and confused because you’re his precious Angel & he didn’t want to hurt you. After a bit of coaxing and encouragement though, he slowly learned that he liked it too- he liked the way you squirmed beneath him, the face you made when he choked you, and how you screamed out in pleasure when he railed you hard enough to make the air leave your lungs.

You checked the clock, Obito would be home any minute now and you were excited to see how he’d react to your new outfit, particularly the accessories. You adjusted the fuzzy cat ear headpiece so that it sat perfectly centered, turning in the mirror to admire your reflection. The open cup bra & panty set you’d ordered fit wonderfully, its strappy bust detailing and pretty pink satin bow accents were adorably alluring. You straightened the sheer thigh high stocking so that they were both even, the dainty lace trim at the top seemed to tie the whole look together. “Perfect” you said aloud, buzzing with excitement.

“I’m home!” Obito announced, slipping his shoes off as he locked the front door. “Y/N?” he called into the silent, empty room, frowning when you didn’t come to greet him. He peeked his head into the kitchen, library & even the patio to no avail- just as panic was about to set in, he heard soft music playing from down the hall. Breathing a sigh of relief, he made a beeline for your shared bedroom. He knocked before entering, not wanting to startle you incase you happened to be napping. 

“Come in” you chimed, posing yourself suggestively on the bed. Upon opening the door, Obito dropped the bouquet of flowers he’d been holding. “Happy Anniversary, daddy!” you husked, smiling at his reaction. 

“H-happy Anniversary” he repeated, eyes widening as he took in his surroundings. Rose petals were scattered on & around the bed, dozens of flickering candles had been placed around the room, bathing you in an ethereal glow. Obito’s knees felt weak as he walked towards you, jaw dropping when he saw what you were wearing. 

“Do you like it?” you asked leaning forward so your cleavage was on full display. 

He stood there unmoving for a second as your words registered in his mind. “I love it...you did all this for me?” he breathed, hands roaming hungrily over the delicate material.

“Of course, I did. It’s a special occasion after all” you replied, leaning into his touch. 

“You make such a pretty kitty” Obito blushed, looking you up and down- feeling his cock twitch in his pants. 

“But you haven’t even seen my tail yet” you teased, swiveling your hips so he could see the fluffy tail, kept in place by the tear drop shaped plug in your rear.

“Holy fuck!” Obito groaned, giving your ass a playful swat. 

“There’s just one more thing...” you trailed off handing him the pale pink collar and chain rope leash. “You can put it on me, if you want.”

“I can, really??” he asked, eyes twinkling. Everyday with you felt like a fantasy he as able to live out. It was as if every want & desire he’d ever had, was being fulfilled multiple times over. 

“Make me your little pet, daddy.” you purred, sitting back on your knees. 

Obito’s eyebrows drew together at your words- you never ceased to amaze him with how much you were able to rile him up. He secured the leather collar around your neck, clipping the chain-link leash to the metal ring at its front.- giving it an experimental tug. “How does it feel?” he asked, a bit dazed. 

“Feels good” you mewled, the sudden pressure against your neck sent warmth straight to your core. You flicked the small silver bell at the front of the thick choker. “So, are you going to pin me down and fuck me or do I need to jingle my cute little collar again?”

“Turn around and sit pretty for me” A low groan rumbled in Obito’s chest as he rid himself of his clothing. 

“Like this?” you asked innocently, getting on all fours. You arched your back, ass perked in the air so he could see how wet you were. 

“Yeah, just like that, let me see how that pretty pussy wets itself for me.” He rubbed his length up and down your glistening slit, smiling when he heard your breathy moan as it caught on your clit. He continued his teasing, swiping his cock head across the swollen bud, admiring how it was now coated in your arousal. 

“Obito...” you whined, pushing your hips back against him. 

“Hm? I thought kittens liked to be pet.” he crooned, thrusting languidly against your little bundle of nerves. 

“Mmph!” you cried out, shocks shooting throughout your body. “Daddy, pleasee!”

Obito pulled at your leash causing you to gasp in surprise. “So eager for me today...I was planning on taking my time with you but if you want it so badly then fine, I’ll give my kitten what she wants.” He placed his free hand on your lower stomach, roughly pushing his pulsing dick into your tight heat. “Like this?” he grunted, parroting your earlier words as he slammed his hips against your own. 

You merely nodded, relishing in the delicious stretch you felt each time he plunged into you. “I asked you a question, Y/N!” he said gruffly, wrapping the leash around his hand a few times, making it taut in his grasp. “Come on, I want to hear it!”

“Yes, like that!” A strangled moan caught in your throat as Obito pulled at your restraints, back arching deeper in response. “Don’t hold back- mmhm breed me daddy, fill up my pretty cunt!” you babbled. 

He sucked in a harsh breath, feeling a near primal need spike within him. “What’s that- You wanna be my breeding bitch now? Fucking take it then!” Obito growled, dropping the leash, opting to wrap both hands around your neck. He snapped his hips in rapid succession, humming at the way it made the fat of your ass ripple. 

“Shake that cute little tail for me” Obito demanded breathlessly, applying more pressure around your throat. You complied, shamelessly bowing lower as you swayed your hips from side to side. The sensation made your eyes cross- it felt like your insides were being rearranged, his fat cock hitting the deepest parts of you. Your mouth hung open as a string of unabashed moans fell past your lips, a delirious smile spreading across your face as he repeatedly hit your sweet spot. 

“So fucking tight!” Obito said through clenched teeth. He felt your silken walls clamping down on him, your vice grip making his brain go fuzzy. “Awe is my little kitten going to cum already, gonna make a mess all over daddy’s cock?” 

Your arms shook uncontrollably, unsure how much longer you could hold yourself up against his brutal pace. Your vision blurred, head lolling back and forth, even in Obito’s strong grip. After another particularly hard thrust; you were a goner- wailing as you gushed like a fountain. You fell forward, gasping for air as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. 

Trembling, you tried to prop yourself back up, but Obito pushed you down- large hands gripping at your shoulders, never ceasing his unrelenting rhythm. “Ngh- this what you wanted, Y/N? For me to turn you into my cock-drunk little pet?!” 

“Aahh!” you shrieked as he fucked you into the mattress, watery eyes rolling to the back of your head. Obito drove into you with such force, your body jerked up and down, the jingling of your bell and the sounds of slapping skin echoing throughout the room. 

He hastily flipped you over so quickly that when your back hit the mattress, it knocked the air right out of your lungs. “Fuck, I love when you make that face!” Obito’s eye’s flashed red, he wanted to burn the image of your crimsoned cheeks and lewd expression into his mind forever. He pushed you into a mating press; knees held against your shoulders. “So fucking cute & all fucking mine!”

Heavy, hot pants escaped both of your mouths as he continued to rut into you- still quivering from your earlier orgasm, your legs twitched on their own accord. 

“NNGH- gonna breed that sweet cunt and you better take every single drop, understand?” Obito instructed, pace faltering slightly. 

“Yes, daddy” you squeaked, nodding weakly. 

“Mmm good girl” he praised, legs shuddering. He began to lose himself in your molten heat, desperate shallow thrusts becoming more & more erratic. Your wanton moans and cries of his name were music to his ears- loud ragged grunts left his throat as he realized he was about to go over the edge. 

“Keep your eyes on me, don’t you look away” voice deep and raspy, Obito cupped your face in his hands. His entire being shook as he shot thick white ropes into your velvety core, trying to press himself as deep as he possibly could to ensure you took all he had to offer. He pulled you into a heated kiss, both of you groaning as his length continued to throb and twitch inside, filling you to the brim. 

At last, he pulled out, collapsing next to you- bringing you to his chest to litter your face with eager kisses. “Was that okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?” he asked, hugging you tightly. 

“That was great...you were great.” You cooed, head still spinning. 

Obito blushed at your compliment, feeling his pride swell. “Are you hungry... I made dinner reservations.” 

“I’m not sure I can even walk right now.” you admitted. 

“Then I’ll just carry you, besides you’re gonna need your strength for later.” Obito remarked, affectionately stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Later?” you questioned, lifting your head off his chest to meet his gaze.

“That’s right, you’re not the only one who’s got a surprise planned. Rest while you can Angel, it’s going to be a very long night.” he husked, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Eighteen. The Package.

warnings: swearing word count: 4.3k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

a/n: me: *it’ll be a much shorter update* also me: *makes it 4.3k words* okay 🧍‍♀️ basically um.... strap in :D

**********

As expected, Y/n’s appearance on Quackity’s stream had caused a panic on Twitter, half of their fans screaming about how cute Bugity was, the other half defending Dreamsy with their lives. It was all very amusing to Y/n, knowing nothing could ever happen between her and Quackity and that neither of them actually had feelings for each other. 

It seemed certain people thought otherwise. 

Dream, the confident and bold man that he usually was, had once again gone quiet towards her. Though it had only been a couple of days, they hardly talked after the stream and had little contact since then, which was very unusual for the two, who normally FaceTimed at least once a day since he showed her his face. 

The weirdest part was he hadn’t Tweeted any jokes about Quackity being too short for her or how Dream was her self-proclaimed Minecraft husband. Maybe he was just busy or tired, but she had a suspicion that it was because she and Quackity had succeeded in making Dream jealous, and she didn’t like it. 

Unlike last time, Y/n knew to confront him about it and work it out before whatever was going on became a bigger issue. She couldn’t deal with him being weird around her again and she had a feeling that he couldn’t either. Even if he was just busy, she wanted to make sure nothing was wrong.

After sending a text to Dream to see if he was busy, Y/n was startled by her front door opening.

“Y/n!” Karl shouted as he ran in, hands full of as many white, plastic bags as possible without dropping or tearing any, though there were a few bags on his right arm that looked like they were about to give. “My beloved!” 

“Karl!” she said back in a slight panic, not expecting him to burst into her house so abruptly. Naomi followed behind him with a few bags in her hands, kicking off her shoes by the entrance and dumping her keys next to them. The two friends set their new purchases on the kitchen counters and Y/n made her way to them to sit at the counter. “Enjoy your trip?”

“Oh for sure,” Naomi nodded sarcastically, unbagging a few items. “Grocery shopping with this one is always sooo fun.” 

Y/n laughed as Karl perked up like he remembered something and dug through a few of the bags Naomi was sorting through. “LOOK WHAT WE BOUGHT!” 

“Uh… cereal?” she guessed, eyeing the brown box her best friend held up proudly.

“Dude, it’s Cocoa Krispies!” he clarified. “I forgot these exist! I’m so excited, it’ll be like eating childhood.” 

Naomi rolled her eyes fondly at his antics before turning to Y/n. “Any word from Dream?” 

She shook her head. “But I only just texted him.” 

“What about Dream?” Karl asked softly, worry in his eyes as he looked between the two girls. “Did something happen? Besides, you know, you showing him your face.” 

Y/n groaned. “I’m never going to hear the end of this. I’m sorry you found out from a stream and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you first. It just happened so fast.” 

“As long as I’m the first person you tell when you inevitably start dating.”

“Oh, like you tell me anything, Mr. I’m-Obviously-Texting-Someone-Cute-Because-I-Never-Stop-Giggling-At-My-Phone-But-Haven’t-Mentioned-Anything-To-My-Best-Friend,” Y/n accused, lifting her hands to put air quotes around the last two words. Karl turned bright red and Y/n raised her eyebrows as his phone buzzed on the counter, his eyes darting to it before looking at Y/n with a bashful smile, face still glowing. “Yeah, I thought so.”

Karl sputtered out some attempt of an excuse as he grabbed the ends of his green hoodie in his hands before giving up and huffing. “Okay, and? I only keep things from you because you keep things from me!” he said with a laugh.

“Lie,” Naomi cut in. “We know you've been texting someone for a while. We just respect your privacy about relationships, but we’ve definitely noticed.” 

“I'm private about relationships?” Karl laughed. “Says you!” 

“I'll tell you anything you want to know as long as you don't share it with fans,” Naomi challenged, crossing her arms and looking at Karl pointedly, as if asking him to test her.

Karl dropped his hands and paused before genuinely asking, “Are you guys dating dating?”

“We’re waiting until we meet to see how it goes,” she answered. “Your turn! Is it the camera girl at work that you mentioned a few months ago?” 

“Anyways!!” Karl dragged out the word loudly, pretending to not hear Naomi's question or either of the girl’s laughter. “What about Dream?” he tried redirecting the conversation and luckily for him, Y/n didn’t mind. 

“Well, I kinda....” she took a deep breath as she started helping Naomi put groceries away. “I really want to... I think, well, I know—”

“She decided to tell him she likes him,” Naomi answered for her, receiving a glare from the taller girl. “What? You were taking too long.” 

Karl’s mouth opened. “Wait, really!? When? Today??” He fired off questions and Naomi chuckled. 

Y/n took a shaky, but excited breath. “I don’t know when. But I’m going to tell him,” she said with determination clear in her voice. 

“What made you decide to?” Karl asked with a wide grin, reaching over to Naomi to help her place a box on a higher shelf than she could reach. “Why all of a sudden?” 

Y/n shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself tightly with excitement. “Well, I started to think he likes me too and I really want to know if something could happen or if I should try to just move on. I’ll never know unless I ask, right?” she said, and Karl and Naomi both smiled at her. “I'm sick of not knowing for sure.” 

“I’m so excited for you!” Karl giggled. “I’m—Y/n, this is gonna be good. I know it.”

She smiled widely, scrunching her nose lightly. “I think so too.”

“So do George and I,” Naomi commented as she took a handful of Cocoa Krispies from the box, earning a look of betrayal from Karl, who snatched the box from her to have a snack too. 

“Does everyone talk about him and I?”

Karl nodded slowly while Naomi took a more blunt approach. “Yup.”

“What are the odds that he’s the only one who doesn’t think we like each other?” 

Karl giggled. “1 in 7.5 trilli— OW! You just hit me!” 

“Overused joke,” Naomi explained, retracting her hand from the back of his head with a sweet smile. 

Y/n pulled her phone out of her pocket as it vibrated and gasped lightly before looking up at her friends. “Okay Karl, I need to know details about this secret person you’re keeping from us, especially if it's camera girl because she sounded adorable.” 

“No,” he protested pointedly. “Not until something actually happens.” 

“Is.. is that a confirmation that it's camera girl?” Naomi snapped her head to look at him.  

Karl paused, turning pink. “N-no?” 

“Karl!” Y/n pouted and he winked dramatically at her. 

“Go talk to your boy. I know it was him that just texted you.” 

“Make him your boyfriend,” Naomi demanded jokingly, though the glint in her eyes told Y/n that she meant it. 

“Not happening right now,” Y/n assured, getting up from her seat. “But I am going to go talk to him. So love you both, bye.”

“Hi,” Y/n greeted happily as she propped her phone up on her desk and tucked her knees to her chest.

“Hello,” Dream said with a weak smile, less enthusiastic than he seemed over text, though he was trying his best to make that not noticeable. He pulled his hood over his hair but kept his face in view and Y/n could clearly see him being vaguely distant, not looking directly at his phone.

Focus on the mission: make sure he's doing okay and if not, find out why, she reminded herself as her thoughts started to focus on how adorable he looked all tired and pouty. Don't tell him you like him if he's mad at you for something.

“Are you doing okay?” He nodded distractedly at her question and she frowned softly. “What’s wrong, Clay?”

The man stuck with his story, adding a slight smile and a breathy laugh in an attempt to make his obvious lie more believable. “Nothing. I’m fine, Bug.”

Y/n took a deep breath and held it for a moment before releasing it suddenly. “At the risk of sounding… narcissistic,” she paused, “are you by chance upset at all by the... stream from the other day?”

Hesitation was written all over Dream’s face as he chewed on his lower lip and hummed.

“Or something completely different? I just wanna make sure I didn't do anything to upset you..”

“I'm not upset at you,” he clarified quickly before hesitantly adding, “but... maybe it has a little bit to do with that.”

Y/n nodded, hoping she was understanding correctly and wasn’t about to make a fool of herself. “In a... jealous way?”

Dream huffed, clearly frustrated. “Yeah, I get it, the whole point was that Alex wanted to make me jealous because he knows how much I care about you and… and whatever. Well, it worked,” he admitted the last part softly like he was embarrassed.

“Dream,” Y/n sighed, “I’ve said it before, you have nothing to be jealous of.”

“I’m aware that I’m not allowed to be jealous, Y/n,” he said harshly, though she knew the slight anger wasn’t directed at her specifically, despite the use of her real name, which he hardly ever used.

She frowned. “That’s not—no, that’s not what I’m saying. I mean that there’s nothing to be jealous of.”

Dream looked at the camera skeptically. “I mean… there kinda is, to be fair. Two of my best friend’s reading—”

“Dream,” Y/n deadpanned, looking softly but sternly at him through the pixels that made their distance seem closer. “I’m serious.”

The blond boy shrugged slowly, seeming to realize how dumb it was to think there was a possibility of him losing Y/n’s attention in any way. “I know it’s stupid to be jealous anyway. You can, you know, have whatever friends you want. I just…” he trailed off like he wanted to say something important but shook his head.

Y/n took a deep breath, so tempted to just blurt out the words at the back of her throat. Just tell him you like him, she scolded herself, do it. It’s the perfect chance. She didn’t know if she was being dumb and was just reading into things or if she was right, but she felt like he liked her. Even before he saw her.

“Sorry I made you mad,” she whispered and he frowned.

“You didn't—Bug, I'm not mad at you. Or Quackity. I’m mad at myself if anything but… not mad.”

“So… you don't hate me?”

He rolled his head back and smiled, scoffing lightly. “I could never be mad at you. Like, actually.”

She rolled her lips between her teeth, feeling the words bubble at the back of her throat again. But before she could open her mouth to let them fly, the boy on the other side of the phone spoke up.

“Hey, did you get my package yet?” Dream asked suddenly. Y/n couldn’t tell if he was changing the subject on purpose or if he just remembered and didn’t want to forget, but it made her want to hit her head on her desk. She needed to figure out a way to subtly bring the conversation back around eventually so she could make herself tell him she liked him.

Y/n let out her breath shakily and her shoulders dropped. “Oh, uh, I don’t think so. The mail hasn’t come today though.”

Dream groaned. “I wish it would show up already,” he pouted. “It’s supposed to get there sometime in the next couple days. I don’t know exactly when because UPS is being vague.”

Y/n laughed. “What did you send?”

“The hoodie!”

“Oh yeah!” she gasped, forgetting about her self-appointed task from moments ago. “I’m very excited. Thank you again, by the way. It’s very sweet of you to send me your merch for free.”

“Of course,” he said with a soft smile. “Anything for you.”

“I’ll just have to pay you back by giving you the very first Bugsy merch.”

“Ohh!!” he gasped excitedly. “Are you working on some?”

She shrugged vaguely to tease him. “I may or may not have a few ideas.”

“Please, can I know? I really wanna know.”

“Why are you so excited?” she asked with a laugh. “You can find out when I announce stuff.”

He pouted. “I don’t get any sort of privilege?”

“Pretty privilege will only get you so far in life, bud,” she teased and he shook his head. She wondered if she would have butterflies in her stomach still if she called him pretty under different circumstances, like if they were dating. Would he react in a different way or still just give her that smile.

“I just can’t wait,” he interrupted her train of thought. “I love having every crumb of BugsyGames content I can get.”

“You already get more than anyone except Karl and Naomi. So greedy.”

He hummed and smiled at her fondly.

“Hey, you said you wanted to talk about something?”

“Huh? Oh… that… uh, well.” He stopped abruptly and his brows furrowed in deep thought, like he was deciding how to say something important again.

She decided to give him a way out by offering, “Was it just about wondering if I got the hoodie yet?”

Dream’s face lit up and she didn’t mistake the grateful look for anything else. “Yeah, that. Just let me know when you do get it. Or I’ll text you if they ever let me know where it is.”

A few days later, Y/n got a notification on Twitter from Dream’s alt account. She rolled her eyes fondly at his theatrics, knowing he didn’t text her like he made Twitter think. 

Y/n lifted the large, brown box from her doorstep and shook her head as she brought it into her apartment. She dropped it on her bed with a huff, hoping that Dream didn’t send her more than one of his merch hoodies. She read the label on the front and immediately knew he did; the white sticker had her nickname written in a small, neat but childlike script instead of a label printed off from a factory. He made her believe he had ordered one from his website and had it delivered to her house, but this clearly showed it had been at his house, giving her the impression there was more than one. She breathed out and grabbed her phone, hoping Dream would pick up her FaceTime call.

After only two rings, Dream answered. “Helloooo,” he greeted slowly but happily. He was slouched sideways on his couch so his cheek pressed against the back and he smiled sleepily.

“Clay.”

“Clay?” he laughed. “Are you mad at me or something?”

“What did you send me?”

“Hoodies? Did you get them?”

“Plural?” Y/n emphasized and he smiled.

“Plural,” he confirmed, making Y/n groan.

“I feel so bad! I didn’t even want one free—”

“Come onnn, it’s fine. Bug, I’ve gifted you, like, 700 subs in one stream before but you don’t want more than one of my hoodies?”

She paused. Did he mean ‘his’ hoodies as in his hoodies? Or as in his brand?

“Just open it!” Dream prompted as he sat up a little. “I’m excited!”

“Which ones did you send me?” Y/n asked as she grabbed scissors from her desk and started opening the box, propping her phone up on her pillows so he could see. “Also, nice handwriting.”

Dream laughed. “Yeah? Sapnap says it looks like shit.”

“I doubt his is any better. I like the little… thing you drew? What is that?” she asked as she paused and leaned closer to the package to get a better look at the artwork.

“It’s a bug!” Dream laughed. “It’s not that bad. Okay, it is pretty bad but you could have figured out what it was from context clues.”

“It's just a scribble.”

“Okay, Miss Artist,” he mocked. “Just open the package!”

Y/n finished opening the box and was hit with an unfamiliar scent. It was nice, making the butterflies in her stomach flutter. She grabbed the material on top, a classic lime green hoodie with Dream’s smile printed on the front, and held it up with a wide smile.

“IT’S SO CUTE!!” she complimented, stepping back from the camera and holding it up to her body. “And also the perfect size! Thank you so much, Dream, seriously.”

“Put it on!” he said with a giggle and she complied, wanting to feel how soft it was while wearing it. She pulled the hoodie on, noting how the scent from the box lingered on the green fabric, but wasn’t strong enough to be the source.

She stepped back and lifted her arms, showing how it fit just how she liked her hoodies to. “It’s perfect!” she assured.

“It looks good on you,” he complimented. “There’s still another one.”

“I know, because you just can’t help but to break rules and go against our agreement,” she joked as she took off the new hoodie and poked her head in the box to see what else he had sent her.

Her eyes locked onto a maroon-colored hoodie with an unfamiliar logo on the front, definitely not more merch like she expected.

“It’s mine,” Dream explained softly from her phone. She looked at him to see him doing his best to hide behind his hand without making his embarrassment obvious.

“No, it’s not,” she challenged in disbelief. No way he sent her his actual hoodie.

Dream nodded and she grabbed it from the box, noticing how much larger it was than the last one. She held it up to her body again and almost fainted at the size difference.

“It’s from, like, forever ago when my family went to the Florida Keys on vacation,” he explained. “Thought you might want a reminder that warm places exist while it gets colder there.”

Y/n smiled widely, not even trying to hide her happiness, which made Dream crack and flash his own grin. “Wanna try it on?”

She didn’t need to be asked twice, slipping it over her head like the last one. It smelled amazing. This was definitely the source of the cologne and she just knew it was his. If this is what he smelled like, she was going to have a hard time not cuddling with him 24/7 when they went on vacation.

“Y/n, you look so cu—”

“It smells so good,” she voiced abruptly and distractedly, making Dream cut himself off and turn a pink that even his phone camera could pick up on.

“Glad you think so.”

She lifted the material over her nose and was even more overwhelmed by the scent that surrounded her. If her stomach butterflies were fluttering before, they were raging lunatics at this point.

“You look so cute, Bug,” Dream complimented fondly and she smiled at him, flipping the hood up to cover her face. “I was right, you do look much better in my clothes than in Karl’s.”

She hummed happily and fiddled with the hoodie strings as she walked back to her phone and took a breath.

She needed to just say it. It was obvious now; there was no way he didn’t like her, sending her his hoodie practically drenched in his cologne and saying she looked cute in his clothes while he blushed. She had nothing to lose in telling him she liked him.

“Thank you, Dream. It really means a lot to me,” she said genuinely and he smiled at her.

“One more thing,” he said and she could detect nervousness in his voice, worrying her only slightly.

“What’s up?”

“I don’t know how to say this because I’ve never done this like… this… but you know there’s a first for everything I guess, and, uh—”

“Dream,” Y/n got his attention with a small laugh. “Just say whatever you need to say.”

“I lied about what I wanted to talk to you about the other day,” he admitted, tightening his hoodie strings before loosening them and huffing loudly. “I mean, I did want to see if the package was there, but I also wanted to… I have a better explanation for kinda ignoring you after Quackity’s stream and stuff um…” he paused and took a deep breath. “I know I can get kinda, I don't know, possessive about people,” he stated, his voice raising at the end like it was a question. “And it's something I'm definitely working on because it’s not a really good trait to have, but I do it especially when I like someone a lot so I’m sorry for being jealous of Quackity and Karl and even Naomi but, uh, I really like you a lot so if I’ve ever come across as overly jealous, that's why. But, again, I'm working on that.”

Y/n didn't know how to contain her smile even if she wanted to. Her heart raced as she looked at Dream’s embarrassed and red face.

“This is also not how I wanted to do this but, I’m pretty sure if I went another day without telling you that I like you, especially after seeing you in my hoodie, I was going to actually explode.”

“You asshole,” she mumbled, a huge grin contradicting her words.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry for rambling. I understand if you wanna send me the hoodie back or even just burn it if you want. Go ahead and burn it. I didn't mean it to come across as creepy if it did. I can see how it would be because I told you I like you after telling you to wear it and… oh god. And I'll stop texting you so much and not go on streams you'll be on and—”

“No, no! Dream, I don't want any of that!” She laughed. “I called you an asshole because you beat me to it.”

“Beat you to what?” he asked, the shakiness in his voice telling her how anxious he was.

Put him out of his misery, Y/n. “I was going to tell you I like you,” she explained before softly adding, “You beat me to it.”

Dream looked at her like she hung the moon just for him. “You do?”

“Yes, dummy. I really do.” Her face was on fire and she lifted the collar of her (his) hoodie over her nose like she always did when she was flustered. This time, the action only worsened her state since she was reintroduced to the scent of Dream’s cologne.

Y/n’s screen showed Dream’s ceiling as he set his phone down abruptly and put his head in his hands, which she could kinda see by his mess of blond waves shoved into the camera lens as he leaned over his desk.

“Dream!” She laughed. “Come back!”

He grabbed his phone and held it close to his face, absolutely beaming. “You have no idea how happy�� Bug, I like you a lot.”

“I like you too, Dream,” she repeated and his smile only grew.

“Holy shit. You have a crush on me!”

“Shut up,” she joked. “What are you gonna do about it, huh?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I'm going to take you on a fucking date when you get here, that's what I'll do about it. Sound good?”

She bit her lips and nodded. “I can check my schedule.”

“Oh, come on,” he whined lightly. “Really?”

“Yes, I’ll go on a freaking date with you, Clay. What kind of question is that?”

“Consent is key!!” he declared. “I'm not gonna force you to go out with me—”

“You'd have to force me not to,” she laughed. “But just to be very clear, do you see now that I meant it when I said you had nothing to be jealous of?”

He frowned seriously. “I'm really sorry. I know it's unattractive and unhealthy and I'm working on it, I really am.”

“Honestly, you've done pretty good, I think. I mean, I didn't even know you were jealous of Naomi until you told me. And you didn't blow up at Quackity… at least not during stream or in front of me, which shows you have some self control.”

Dream laughed through his nose. “I actually didn't yell at him for that at all. Just… pouted to George and Karl.”

“W-wait to KARL? Karl knows you like me? AND George? That means both of us told them how we felt and neither of them let us know!”

“They hate us,” Dream joked.

“Just for that, I'm not telling either of them about the date. Purely out of spite.”

“I made them swear they wouldn't tell you anything though. So I understand why they didn't say anything.”

Y/n hummed. “I guess I did the same… okay fine they're super loyal, perfect friends. Still annoying.”

Dream smiled at her attitude and her frown melted away.

“By the way, I never said you being jealous wasn't hot.”

Dream’s eyebrows shot up. “What the hell did you just say?”

“Unreasonable jealousy isn't but you sending me a hoodie just because you don't want to see me wear Karl’s is kinda…” she suddenly got shy at her words but still raised an eyebrow at him. “It's definitely attractive.”

Dream shook his head fondly. “You're going to kill me.”

*********

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[badassbuchanan]

White Lies

Warnings: smut, oral (male and female receiving), unprotected sex, overuse of the f word, riding, dirty talk, kinda sad ending.

Word Count: 5335

A/N: Sorry my inactiveness this past week, my loves! I’ve just had so much on my plate - hopefully everything will be back to normal this week xx

Also, let me know if my tag list still isn't working for you? I’ve had a few people having issues with it lately.

*** would just like to state for the record I do not condone cheating. Please do not read if this will upset or offend you in any way ***

The empty bottle of wine made Y/N’s body tingle with warmth. Andy’s larger body wasn’t feeling the affects of the alcohol as much, he was a different kind of drunk. His body was more tingly and warm from the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen laying so vulnerably against his side.

Y/N tried to act normal around him, she really had. She desperately attempted to treat tonight like every other night he’d come over to her place. But it was hard to act normal, when the secret of his she’d accidentally uncovered tormented her mind. Y/N knew that tonight was the last time she could ever see Andy.

She first met Andy only a couple of weeks ago when he was assigned to assist a case at the firm she worked at. He’d come in to the reception area looking smart and professional, but his mannerisms were slightly more on the causal side than most lawyer’s she’d liaised with. “Can I help you?” Her voice came out calm, almost soothing to his ears. Andy couldn’t ignore how beautiful she was, or the way his heart skipped a beat as their eyes met. “Yeah, is this where I sign in?” She was immediately attracted to his charm and dopey smile.

“My name’s Andy. M’gunna be working with…” He leaned his palms on her desk with a frown as he tried to wrack his brain, Y/N’s beauty distracting his mind from thinking straight. She watched with a soft smile as he quickly pulled out his phone, checking for the name of the person he was supposed to meet. “William Heartly on the Alberto and Bexley case.”

“Okay, Andy,” Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes off of the charming man. Andy tried to ignore the throbbing of his cock as he admired her, just getting hard from the way she said his name. “I’ll let Mr Heartly know you’re here. Please, take a seat.”

A few days of borderline flirty remarks whilst waiting for the lawyer to come and collect Andy later, and Y/N had grown fond of the blue eyed visitor. They had become quite well acquainted with eachother. She adored the way he seemed to be genuinely interested in talking to her. She was attracted to the way he made her laugh, his kind nature. Everything about him made her crave his attention. He was so different to all the other men she’d met, she’d never felt this way about anyone before. It was as if they were just destined to meet, like the stars had aligned.

“Morning Y/N.”

“So where are you from originally?”

“Here, I bought you a coffee.”

“I’ll see you again tomorrow.”

“What do you do when you’re not at work?”

“We should be finished up on the case by tomorrow.”

“I don’t want it to be the last time I see you. Do you wanna come to dinner with me?”

It was the small things he said that had her heart skipping every time he walked through the door, sometimes unscheduled. She wasn’t the kind of girl who has sex with someone she’s just met, but this was different. Andy was everything she’d ever looked for in a guy. She wasn’t going to let herself self sabotage this time, she’d trust that it was supposed to be. So they fucked in the back of his car that night. They exchanged numbers. They texted daily. They hung out, mostly at Y/N’s house. They cooked together. They watched movies. They stayed up late talking about anything and everything. They made love.

Thoughts of their times together flooded through her mind as she laid against his side, her heart sinking as she breathed in his intoxicating scent, one that she would soon be trying to forget. Deep down she’d always known he was too good to be true. But she thought that just this once, maybe she’d find the love of her life. And well, technically, she did.

“This is my favourite part.” Andy chuckled, blissfully unaware of the thoughts that tormented her mind, distracted by the movie on the screen and the peacefulness of being with her. She faked a chuckle, letting her hand rest on his bare stomach under his business shirt. She didn’t want to let him go, to feel the coldness of his absence. She wanted to go back to before that dumb accountant had run her mouth, unknowingly telling Y/N something she never imagined she’d hear.

“Andy.” She mumbled softly, craving all of his attention as she tilted her head to look up at him, noticing how well groomed his beard was. Her stomach fluttered with butterflies as her fingers massaged over his skin, desperate for the intimacy the both relied on. Her mind stilled as she admired him, perfection in human form.

Andy immediately fixed his ocean blue eyes on hers, one of his strong hands sliding down her back and into the waistband of her gym shorts instinctively as he gave her a soft smile.

Yeah?” He breathed out sweetly, leaning down to peck her lips slowly without hesitation. She hummed as she kissed him back, not missing a beat as her hand moved from his stomach up to his jaw, pulling his face harder onto hers.

Y/N felt her pussy throb with need as his muscly arms wrapped around her body. She shook her head, causing her to second guess her confrontational conversation and enjoy the moment instead. “Nothing.” She whispered seductively, opening her mouth for his tongue as he ran it over her bottom lip. She loved how wet Andy could get her from his hand simply squeezing her ass cheek inside her shorts.

Andy groaned into the kiss, letting his other hand dip under the bottom of her baggy top, resting on her soft tummy as he felt his cock throb. “Wanna feel myself in here.” He mumbled euphorically as he trailed his lips across her cheek, his tongue leaving wet marks as he went. Andy loved how she made him feel, not just sexually, although he loved that too. But emotionally, she made him feel whole, she made him feel loved and needed, she completed him.

Goose bumps covered Y/N’s skin as she tilted her neck, granting him more access. His hand started moving again as his lips trailed along the flesh of her neck, pushing further under her top as he palmed over one of her perky tits, squeezing it gently.

“Andy.” She threw her head back breathlessly, helplessly submitting to him as her legs parting instinctively. Andy continued to squeeze her ass and massage her boob, his cock straining against the material of his pants as he heard her moan.

“Need to be inside you, baby.” He kissed at her neck repeatedly, longing for the love only she could give him as he bit down softly on her neck, tugging her nipple between his fingers. She let out a whimper as she felt her wetness dripping down her pussy and onto the thin material of her underwear, begging to feel more of his touch. “I need you.”

Y/N licked her lips, resting her hand on the back of his head as her eyelids fluttered shut, her body relaxing against him. Andy let his hand glide back down her tummy, touching her body delicately before fisting the material of her top in his hand, impatiently pulling it up to expose her bare chest.

His lips left her neck, taking a moment to admire how perfect her body was, how perfect she was, breathing out shakily as he looked up into her lust filled eyes, staring back at him lovingly. He leaned closer to her, dropping his head to her tits as he started sucking on her pebbled nipple with his tongue.

She whimpered out in pleasure, tugging on his hair as her back arched off of the sofa in pleasure, nudging closer to his mouth. “Andy.” She moaned his name shamelessly, edging him on to get what she wanted, his cock inside of her.

He squeezed her other boob in the palm of his hand, letting out a groan as he felt her body wiggling desperately under him. His teeth grazed along the flesh of her breast as she tries to wrap her leg around him, needing something to hump her eager pussy on.

“Andy, please.” She choked out in a whimper, losing control of her body as she forced her eyes open to look at him. Y/N breathed shakily as she pushed her tits out for him, watching him kiss his way to the valley of her breasts, letting his tongue leave sloppy wet marks along her soft skin. “I’m so wet.”

“Tell me what you want.” He muttered mindlessly, too distracted by his desire to kiss every inch of her gorgeous body. His tongue snaked across her chest to attach to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment as the first.

“You.” She moaned weakly, her eyes closing in pleasure as her head spun, her hips bucking desperately as she gripped his hair. “I want you.”

Andy lifted his head, moving his body up to level with hers, their breaths mixing as he stared down at her intensely. “I can give you what you just asked for in so many different ways, baby.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips as he felt himself weakening under her touch. “But if you want what’s going on inside that sweet mind of yours,” He kissed her again, feeling her absentmindedly open her mouth to welcome his tongue. “You’re gunna have to get a little more graphic for me.”

She nodded obediently with a whimper, licking her lips as she watched his, her eyes glistening with desire as her hands smoothed over the burning skin of his stomach. “I want your mouth on my pussy.”

Andy let out a strangled grunt, his jaw clenching as his strong hand squeezed her bare thigh. “You wanna feel my tongue inside that tight little cunt of yours?” He breathed out heavily through his nose as he looked down at her submitting beneath him.

Y/N nodded shyly at the vulgarity of his words, biting her lip as the soft hair of his beard grazed her chin. “Go get on the bed.” Andy instructed as his lips pressed a kiss on her cheek. “Take your shorts and top off.” He continued as he kissed her other cheek. “Then wait for me like a good girl.” He mumbled as he watched her through hooded eyes, his head spinning with desire.

Y/N’s pussy clenched, her crotch nudging against his bulge as she immediately moved to get up, leaving Andy with a final peck on his lips. He watched her obediently make her way across the room, her shirt dropping to the floor before she’d even reached the hallway.

Andy let out a scoff in amusement, smiling admirably as he felt his heart burst with adoration for the girl. He took the moment alone to regain his strength which seemed to dissolve whenever she was begging him.

His cock throbbed when he walked into the bedroom, immediately seeing her tight little pussy on display for him now that her legs were spread. Andy unbuttoned his shirt as he strolled to the end of the bed, keeping his eyes glued on her dripping centre that was begging for him.

“I don’t remember telling you to take off your underwear.” He mumbled cheekily as his hands dropped to unbuckle his belt after running a hand through his tousled hair, pushing it out of his way as he subconsciously licked his lips.

Y/N’s leg lifted to dig her heel into the mattress, her pussy clenching as her eyes dropped to marvel at his tattooed body that she loved so much. She bit her lip in anticipation as she watched his big hands pull the belt, that had tied her up on multiple occasions, out of the loops and into his hand in a smooth motion.

“They were coming off eventually,” She dropped her voice in a sultry tone as she leaned back on her palm, batting her eyelashes as she watched him unbutton his pants in front of her. “Thought I’d save you some time.”

“And what if I wanted to fuck you with them on?” He raised his eyebrow, smirking as he moved his hand down to grip her ankle. He tugged at her feet, forcing her body towards him as her back hit the mattress. She giggled at his dominance, butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she looked up at where he stood between her legs. Andy admired her naked form as he let go of her ankle, pushing his pants down before crawling onto the bed, hovering above her. “Have to wait until next time, won’t I?” He chuckled sweetly as he pressed a gentle kiss on her plump lips.

Her heart sank. There wouldn’t be a next time. A slight twinge of anxiety returned to her body as she remembered the secret he’d hidden from her so well. Was any of this real?

“Andy, wait.” She watched him slide his hand up her inner thigh as his lips travelled down her body, stopping inches away from her heat. Her chest heaved as she slightly panicked, feeling his movements come to a sudden stop.

He looked up, eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion as she tugged his hands off of her. Y/N silently rolled herself over, propping herself up on her knees as she pushed her palms into the mattress, her ass and pussy on display for him.

“Fuck,” Andy sighed in desire, his cock painfully straining inside of his boxers at the sight of her as he shifted to lay on his side. “This how you want it?”

“Mmh.” She moaned out with a nod, looking back at him from over her shoulder. Andy’s weight rested on his elbow as he came face to face with her pussy.

“So pretty.” He mumbled in awe, using his spare hand to grip the back of her thigh, spreading her ass cheek a bit more as he leaned in and kissed her pussy lips softly. “So wet.” He added, mumbling against her heat as he let his tongue poke teasingly out of his mouth, kissing her pussy again.

“Fuck.” She whispered shakily, already overwhelmed with pleasure as her head dropped against the mattress, desperately pushing her ass back towards him.

Andy licked a long strip up her slit, his spit mixing with her juices as he felt her jolting with pleasure in front of him, she was so responsive for him. “So sweet.” He mumbled against her pussy, the vibrations sending shivers through her body.

“Oh,” she whimpered erotically, arching her back as her hands gripped tightly against the bedsheets, her nipples rubbing against the mattress as she lost the strength to hold herself up. “Andy.”

Andy let go of her thigh, a growl escaping his lips as his passion took over, forcing his face deep into her pussy, his tongue rubbing against her inner walls. Andy guided his hand down, pushing inside his boxers to pull out his throbbing cock.

He moaned against her, pumping his thick shaft in his hand as he sucked on her clit. Andy’s eyes darkened with desire as he felt her fidget in front of him, rocking her hips against his face as he drank her arousal.

The slapping and sucking sounds of their intimate activity filled the air, a thin layer of sweat escaped her skin as her thighs shook, the pleasure taking over her body.

Andy teased his tip, spreading the leaking precum over his reddened tip before fucking into his hand again. He moaned as his tongue explored her eager pussy, drinking in her scent.

“Andy, I’m gunna cum.” Y/N whined desperately, the feeling on Andy’s beard tickling between her thighs too much for her to take. Her upper body collapsed against the bed as she jolted repeatedly, a bubbling pleasure building up inside of her as she reached a hand toward the pillows for support.

Her words only made his mouth fuck her harder, eager to watch her come undone as he flicked his tongue rapidly up and down her clit. A groan erupted from the back of his throat, his hand pumping his cock faster as a way of settling his desperate need for attention.

The vibration of his voice caused Y/N’s orgasm to hit, suddenly flooding her body with with pleasure as she desperately gripped the pillow her hand. Porn-star moans escaped her mouth as Andy lapped up her juices, his eagerness to feel her walls around him growing as he felt her overstimulated pussy jolting at his touch.

Andy pressed his thumb covered in his pre-cum against her core as he leaned back, admiring her puffy pussy lips through hooded eyes. The sight was almost enough for him to push her down and shove his face back between her thighs. But his cock was throbbing for attention. Y/N was too fucked out to pay much attention to Andy shifting behind her on the bed, still recovering from her orgasm as slid his boxers down his legs and knelt behind her, lining himself up with her soaked entrance before pushing his cock inside of her throbbing pussy.

“Oh, fuck.” Andy moaned loudly, his head dropping back in pleasure as a frown covered his face. His hands gripped her hips, her warm pussy clenching around his cock as he started thrusting in and out of her aching hole.

“Pull out.” Y/N whimpered out quickly, her head turning sideways to look at him over her shoulder as she moved her palm back to push him away by his stomach. His cock felt so good inside of her aching pussy, satisfying the need to feel him, like he was made to fit inside of her.

“No.” Andy growled desperately as he pulled her hips back against him hard, unable to fathom the idea of having to pull his cock out of her warm, dripping cunt.

“Andy,” Y/N hissed in frustration, whining at the feeling of his balls slap against her ass, the enormous amount pleasure coursing through her veins almost made her second guess her request. “I want your cock in my mouth first.”

Andy’s movements stilled as he let out a groan, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips as he leaned down to press his chest against her back. His cock angled deeper inside of her, a soft whimper leaving her lips as she arched back, feeling the material of his shirt which hung open on his body. “Well, in that case.” Andy chuckled deviously as he pressed his lips to the back of her shoulder, a sigh leaving his lips as he regretfully pulled out of her soft pussy.

Andy leaned back up on his knees, not even giving Y/N time to think about the empty feeling washing over her before tugging her backwards by her arm to press her back against his chest. Andy’s hand snaked around to her throat, his fingers digging into her flesh as he kissed her passionate. Y/N smiled as she kissed him back, feeling the desperation on his lips contrasted by his rough touches.

“Lay down for me, okay?” She asked sweetly, knowing that if she tried to command him in any way, he’d fuck her into the mattress just to put her in her place. She pecked his lips softly, feeling his cock nudging desperately between her ass cheeks.

Andy groaned as he pulled himself away from the kiss, her voice sweet enough to be able to get him to do anything. He let go of her body, shuffling to obey her request as he turned his body to lay his head on the pillows.

He watched the way she admired his cock that was standing proudly, glistening with her juices as she crawls toward him. She bit her lip, her soft hand running ticklishly up one of his thighs as her lips kissed along the other.

Andy groaned as her lips inched closer to his throbbing member, his hips bucking slightly in need. Y/N’s mouth watered at the sight of his cock, unable to stop her lips from wrapping around his tip, her tongue flicking ever so teasingly over him.

Andy let out a grunt of frustration, forcing his eyes to stay open as his hand moved down to rest on the back of her head. Y/N could tell he wanted to take control, feeling his cock throbbing against her tongue as she glided it down his shaft and started bobbing her head.

“Fuck, baby.” Andy’s hand tightened on her head, his fingers digging into her scalp as he tugged hard on her hair, little moans escaping his open mouth uncontrollably. “Just like that.”

He breathed out shakily, his eyes fixated on the sight of her between his legs, gagging on his cock as she took his whole length. Y/N let her jaw go slack, allowing him the freedom of controlling her movements as he fucked into her mouth.

Andy’s jaw clenched as he felt his tip hit the back of her throat, sending waves of pleasure through his body. “Oh, fuck.” His face screwed up, in awe of just how good she always made him feel.

The sound of Andy’s heavy breathing has Y/N’s pussy clenching in anticipation of his throbbing cock being back inside of her. She moaned around his length, bobbing her head to assist with the rhythm that his hand was moving it up and down. The drops of saliva that trickled down her mouth didn’t cross her mind as they landed on Andy’s skin.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed, breathing through her nose as Andy’s cock filled her throat, her nails digging harshly into the flesh of his thigh.

Andy movements came to a sudden stop, desperately trying to recompose himself as he almost lost control. He kept her lips against his skin as he held her head down, his cock filling her mouth and opening her throat as he tried to stop himself from reaching his climax.

“Fuck.” He moaned loudly, eyes not leaving the sight of her mouth warming his thick cock. Y/N was caught by surprise, trying to control her breathing as she choked, swallowing around him in an attempt to breathe. “Baby I’m gunna cum down that pretty little throat of yours if you don’t stop.”

She whimpered at his words, staying in position as her pussy dripped down her thighs, moving her other hand to rest on Andy’s lower stomach, trailing her fingers delicately over the skin.

Her throat started to involuntarily tighten as Andy watched her keep his cock in her mouth like a pacifier. He licked his lips as his blue eyes locked with hers, finally letting go of her head as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair.

Y/N took a moment to catch her breath, leaning up on her hands as they smiled knowingly at eachother. Andy watched intensely as she crawled up his body, their skin touching intimately as she sat back on her knees, straddling his waist.

He pulled her into a deep kiss as her hand cupped his beard covered jaw, her head tilting to grant him more access. Y/N rocked her hips down from where she sat above him, feeling his thick cock nudge against her pussy.

Andy moaned into the kiss, his hands sliding from her hips around to massage her ass cheeks. She sucked on his bottom lip desperately, pressing her chest against his she let go of his jaw, tugging the material of his shirt off of his body. She slid her hand down to his cock once he was completely naked beneath her, lining him up with her entrance as she braced herself for the feeling of his cock stretching her out.

“You’re so needy for my cock, baby.” Andy groaned into her ear as he tugged her hand away from his shaft, jolting his hips up to push himself fully inside of her.

“Andy.” Y/N moaned out with a gasp, surprised by his sudden movement as she momentarily dropped her head onto his chest, losing control of her body as her nails dug into his arm.

Andy’s wide chest caught her weak body, guiding her ass back and forth along his length with his big hands. “I’m not gunna last long.” He groaned desperately as his lips parted in pleasure, his eyes squeezing shut as he felt her pussy tight around him.

“So big.” She whimpered softly, still trying to stretch in order to accommodate to his size. Andy kissed her temple lovingly, his heart sinking at her words as his cock twitching inside of her rubbed up against her walls.

“Thought you would’ve gotten used to me by now.” He whispered cheekily, trying to distract her from the pain. He dropped his head to press a kiss to her lips, smiling as he noticed her chuckle shakily in response, both of them drunk on the feeling of their intimacy.

“Your cock is huge, Andy.” She mumbled sweetly as she kissed him back, starting to move her hips slowly as she adjusted to his thick shaft. “It’d take a lot longer than this for me to get used to it.”

“Shit.” He hissed as Y/N forced herself to bounce a little faster on him, a soft sound of their skin slapping together filled the room. Her stomach clenched as she paced up and down his cock, feeling so full with him inside of her.

One of her hands lifted to rest on his shoulder, the other on the mattress beside his head as she sat up on him, regaining her strength. Little whimpers left her lips as she pleasured herself on Andy’s cock, feeling his strong hands holding her tightly. His fingers left marks on her curvy hips, the new angle gave them both an increased amount of pleasure.

Groans rumbled in Andy’s throat as he clenched his jaw, admiring the gorgeous woman above him. He forced his eyes to stay on her, smitten with the way her back arches towards him, the way her tits bounce with every thrust, the way her face looks flushed and so very satisfied.

“Andy” She moaned his name, her eyes fluttering shut as she slid her hand from his shoulder to his chest, her finger nails digging into his skin.

He was mesmerised by the way her pussy smacked down against his skin with every bounce of her hips, rubbing the length his cock with her tight walls.

“C’mere.” Andy mumbled breathlessly, reaching his hand up to lift her arm from his chest, as he tugged her arm towards his head. He pulled her body down on to him with ease, desperate to have her closer.

Y/N didn’t hesitate to obey to his gentle command, resting her chest flush against his once more as she looked up at him through hooded eyes. His hands slid down to her ass, spreading her cheeks as he took control, thrusting up into her.

She forced her head to stay focused on him, even as the overwhelming pleasure filled her body. Andy instantly smiled admiringly down at her, proud of how well she was taking him. His heart fluttered as he noticed her smiling beck at him, losing theirselves in the love they felt.

He grunted desperately, feeling his cock push deep inside of her with every jolt of his hips. “Just because you’re on top, doesn’t mean you’re in control.” He mumbled through hooded eyes, craving more and more of her attention.

Y/N chuckled at his comment before whimpering as his cock hit her cervix, leaning up to kiss him as she cupped his jaw in an attempt to satisfy the need to bring him closer.

Andy kissed her back, his tongue slipping into her mouth to twirl with hers. He lifted his knees, pressing the heels of his feet into the mattress as he fucked up into her with more leverage.

Y/N moaned as she felt Andy’s cock slide deeper into her, protruding through the bottom of her tummy from inside of her. She moaned into another loving kiss, her clit rubbing against his skin as she felt her orgasm bubbling.

“Want you to cum around my cock.” Andy moaned against her lips, one hand digging into the thick flesh of her thigh as his length twitched inside of her.

“You’re close, Andy.” She whispered back matter-of-factly, noticing the way his cock was twitching desperately inside of her. Andy knew she was right, he could feel his release rapidly building up, his heart swelling at how well she knew him.

He nodded in response, their breaths colliding as Andy’s spare hand held the back of her head, tugging her hair slightly out of desperation.

Andy quickened his pace, feeling her juices running down onto his balls. Moans filled the room as Y/N moved her hips down aggressively, using the last of her strength to sit back up on Andy.

The sudden change of her angle was too much for Andy, sending him spilling his seed inside of her as his hips jolted erratically.

“Fuck.” He moaned as his face screwed up in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing as he emptied his seed into her tight pussy, not letting go of his grip on her body.

Andy didn’t stop slamming up into her, the feeling of her pussy clenching around his length was something he never wanted to stop.

Y/N felt her orgasm wash over her with a loud moan, his cock rutting into her sensitive pussy as her hole filled with his warm cum. Her nails dug into his chest as they both stilled for a moment, trying to make the euphoria of the moment last.

Her overstimulated pussy pulsated around his cock, still deep inside of her as he took hold of her wrist softly, looking up at her in admiration.

Y/N closed her eyes, trying to steady herself with one hand as she felt Andy’s lips kissing her wrist. Her stomach sunk as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat, dread washing away the pleasure.

“Say it.” She whispered breathlessly, her eyes slowly opening as she looked at him innocently through her lashes.

“I love you.” He spoke without hesitation between kisses, his eyes never leaving her face as he admired her beauty.

“No, Andy.” She sighed irritably, lifting her hips up just enough for his cock to slide out of her, emptying herself of his length before sitting back down on him carefully. “Just say it.”

Andy sighed heavily, closing his eyes as he felt his heart sinking inside of his chest. He knew that his truth would catch up with him eventually, he just hoped it would be further in the future. The sadness that covered Y/N’s face had his heart aching at her pain, hating that he’d done that to her. “I’m married.”

She held her breath for a moment too long, feeling her heart break as the words left his lips. “I hate you.” She mumbled, closing her eyes to stop the tears from escaping. She sighed heaving as she laid her chest back on to his, enjoying the last of his presence. How could she have let herself so vulnerable? Why did she ever let her guard down? Why did she ever let him in?

“I know.” Andy sighed heavily, hating himself for hurting her. She hid her saddened face in the dip of his neck, relaxing against him as she inhaled his scent. Andy’s hands slid up her sides to wrap around her back, hugging her tightly.

The haunting silence engulfed the room, an emptiness between them where there had once been an overwhelming sense of fulfilment. Andy knew deep down in his gut that he’d lost her. He knew how much he’d unintentionally hurt her. He knew it was over. But there was nothing he could do, because the truth was, it never even should’ve started.

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[absolutepokemontrash]

ayo!! congrats on 666 <33 I'm not sure if its much of a request but I love how you wrote the demon kids personalities! I was wondering what kids of personalities you would see the other brothers kids having? Hypothetically of course (unless 👀)

BRO- I’ve actually been thinking about this for a while! Fan kids are fun to think about, what can I say? Now, these kids aren’t canon to the Awfully Familiar series, the HOL is crowded enough as is… but I hope you enjoy anyways!

(I’m giving all the kids names just so no one gets confused with which kid is whose)

Levi’s Kid

Uh let’s use probability to figure out how rare children of our snek boy are. The Otaku left the house (unlikely), spoke to a human being (very unlikely), did the devil’s tango with them (impossible)

I’m kidding, but seriously what the fuck why did this human exchange student look so much like Levi? Was that a tail? Hehehe… what a weird practical joke…

(I’m calling this MC Percy. Three guesses as to why)

Okay, onto the kiddo’s personality. I’m picturing them being REALLY hyped and REALLY enthusiastic about their hobbies and isn’t afraid to yammer about them. They’re good at what they do and they’re damn proud of it! They turn their envy into *~inspiration~* and get better at the things they enjoy doing!

In all fairness to Levi, it’s a bit easier for his kid because Percy isn’t literally being eaten alive and consumed by this sin every waking moment of his life… perks of being half human! :D

Percy loves swimming, and the ocean, and fish, and they brought a shark back from the beach- wait hang on a second-

It’s not uncommon for Levi to be hardcore gaming while Percy swims around in the fish tank.

The pair of them have a very good relationship, Percy is kind of Levi’s hero with how eager they are to get better at the things they love doing and how they almost never self pity spiral. The one issue is… ugh… Percy is a 🤢…. Sorry. Percy’s a 🤢 🤢-

They’re A FUCKING NORMIE. THEY DON’T LIKE ANIME!

Other than that, the two get along swimmingly. (Ba dum tisssss)

Percy’s reaction to Levi’s cool military titles is basically “WOAH! YOU HAVE BOATS?! CAN I GO ON ONE?!” And Levi would be a monster to decline.

Percy wore a pirate hat despite Levi telling them numerous times that they were a part of the navy, they CATCH pirates. Which are apparently still a big problem in the Devildom…

Also, Percy and Lotan absolutely adore each other. It makes Levi very happy

Satan’s Kid

Satan’s a pretty charming guy, and it’s canon that he’s amazing at seductive speech craft so it’s no surprise that he was able to seduce a human.

You know what is a surprise? The fact that Satan, the smart one, didn’t think to use protection! Like- DUDE I EXPECTED BETTER FROM YOU.

Whatever, anyway, when this kid slammed onto the floor of the assembly hall no one had time to react when the kid suddenly grew horns… and fangs… and a tail… OH FUCK THE KID WAS GOING THROUGH THEIR FIRST TRANSFORMATION WHAT THE FUCK-

(For simplicity’s sake, I’m going to call this kid Lyssa, mainly because of the meaning of the name)

The first thing Lyssa did was launch themselves straight at the first person they saw, and I ask you to guess exactly who sits in the middle seat of the assembly hall. That’s right… Satan… yay…

This kid nearly clawed his face off in the span of two seconds and it took Lucifer and Beel working together to drag them off of him and then Asmo had to step in to use his powers to calm them down. Well. That was eventful.

So Lyssa has a volcanic temper and they’re honestly really bitter and upset at everything, which is something that’s supposed to come in adult life, not so early. So what’s up with this kid? Well, when you’re born with a burning rage deep inside you that can be set off at even the slightest inconvenience and because of that everyone around you immediately assumes you’re dangerous or crazy can really do some damage to a kid.

So who oh who is Lyssa going to blame for this…? Hmmm… who is responsible for the anger? *Side eyes Satan*

“Wow, this kid is blaming me for passing down my wrath even though I couldn’t control giving it to them and if I had the choice I would have made sure they wouldn’t have to live with it and they’re mad at me for subjecting them to existence itself… wow this feels so bad :( who would treat someone like this..?” “*Dad sigh*”

The two of them do eventually get along. It’s actually Satan who extends the olive branch and offers to help them control their anger. As the two spend time together, Lyssa’s intense hatred slowly subsides.

So… what’s Lyssa going to do now? They’ve spent so much of their life being defined by their anger… who the fuck are they????? U-uh… cats! Cats! Lyssa likes cats! Is liking cats a personality? No? Okay… um… Music! Music is relaxing! Lyssa likes music! Um… um… ooo- look at that! They like space! And stars!

You knew what they don’t like? School. Lyssa doesn’t like learning in a controlled environment where they’re being told what to learn. Leave them alone so they can go read about space.

Beelzebub’s kid(s)

*munch* *munch* *chew* *chomp* huh, *chomp* why does the takeout- I mean the human look so much like him…? They’re his kid..? *choke* *cough* *cough* …Huh. Want some chips?

Surprisingly chill first meeting. Well, Beel and the kid were chill, everyone else was freaking the fuck out.

I’m calling this kid Pepper. Why? Fucking guess.

Pepper themselves is just… chill. They’re sort of like a capybara, their vibes are just so immaculate that everyone wants to hang out around them.

Unlike Beel, Pepper’s penchant for food mainly comes from “food is good.” instead of “my body is literally eating itself alive every second of the day and I need to be eating something at almost all times in order to stave off a rampage.” Beel is very happy that his kid doesn’t have to live with food constantly on the brain.

All was well until three days into the exchange program when Pepper asked at the dinner table “so when are we bringing my twin down here?”

…twin genes man… twin genes…

Second kid, I’m calling them Cane. (CANE PEPPER, GET IT?! GET IT?!) this kid is less like a capybara and more like a honey badger. They don’t give a shit.

Here’s the thing though… they’re identical twins.

Cane is basically Beel but smaller. They follow Beel to the gym and usually get stopped at the door. “Kids aren’t allowed in the gym.” Ha, the rules don’t apply to Cane, they just cross their arms and raise their eyebrows and whoever is stopping them just steps aside. Don’t fuck with the honey badger kid.

Pepper and Cane are super close though, but don’t ask if they have a telepathic link or something, Cane will fuck you up and Pepper won’t be able to stop them. (I know a pair of identical twins, and the amount of times they’ve been asked if they can read each other’s minds is enough to make anyone homicidal)

Belphegor’s kid

*squints* how’d this happen..?

Whatever. When Belphie’s kid woke up on the floor of the assembly hall everyone took one look at this kid and collectively went “shitballs”

Belphie was in the attic and his kid was wandering around the house like they ran the place! What the fuuuuuuuuck was Lucifer supposed to do with this????

Anyway, meet Arien.

Arien, how does one describe this little hellspawn? Well, one would call them the brood of Lucifer or the spawn of Satan but that would be false because this manipulative evil devil-child that crawled straight out of a teacher’s nightmares is BELPHIE’S kid. And it fucking SHOWS.

This kid won the demon/human genetic lottery and they’re going to make it everyone’s problem. Basically, they’re sin is sloth, but unlike Belphie, Arien’s is more voluntary, if that makes sense. They sleep and slack off because they like not doing work, not because they’re always tired. They have this sort of lazy relaxed facade that vanishes the second it’s not needed, it’s honestly kind of terrifying.

They quickly learn that if they just pretend to be having troubles with being constantly tired, the rest of the house will go easy on them if they miss their chores and schoolwork.

Jeez Louise when this kid met Belphie…

They both just stared at each other for a solid five minutes before anyone said anything. Belphie somewhat nervously started up his “oh woe is me get me out of here :(“ charade, and the kid played along for a few weeks, until of course, they got suspicious.

You remember how Belphie guilt spiralled with L!MC? Yeah imagine that but 40 times worse, and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

But yeah, blah blah blah Arien breaks Belphie out, they don’t die, family’s back together, happily ever after. But not quite. Arien’s “oh no I’m sorry I’m sleepy…” charade was found out and boy howdy was everyone pissed.

Surprisingly, it was Belphie who gave Arien the wake up thwack, but Arien called Belphie out on his laziness so Belphie was forced to become a better example.

The way they fixed Ari’s behaviour? Extra chores, extra schoolwork, extra everything, and the boys did nothing to help. Basically, “this is how we felt! Deal with it!”

It worked… thankfully.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

It’s A Match Chapter One

Masterlist

Disclaimer

Summary: Filming is over and Henry returns home to and empty house. And he doesn't like it, things are getting to him and he doesn't want to be alone anymore. Then his brother suggests online dating, it sounds mad but henry decides to give it a shot. If worst comes to worst he just deletes the profile. He has nothing to loose right?

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Cheese, Self Indulgent Fic, Rpf, Plus sized reader.

A/N: so I wrote this before the whole 'girlfriend' shock and everything that has followed. I was of two minds whether to ever post it but honestly, this is my blog and I've clearly stated that i am going to continue writing Rpf. I want to do a little ficlet/mini fic and well here we go. It wont be smutty just  somewhat angsty then fluffy. Enjoy~

Taglist: In Reblogs.

Henry slumped back on the seat in his conservatory and sighed, from here he could see his brothers and their wives outside, each snuggled up on the out door wicker sectional he had got to have the family over. It was the first family get together for over a year. He was happy, god it was amazing to see them but... He couldn't help being a tad envious.

They all had a family, wife and kids to go through this shitstorm in. He had no one, well he ha Kal. But that was it he sighed and looked away sipping from his cup slowly takeing a moment for himself. He needed to just chill, but it was getting hard... This year had really knocked him back he was at an all time low he hadn't felt like this for a long time. He knew he was depressed, he felt stupid there was no reason to be but there we go.

Henry had been getting himself all twisted for a while now, filming the Witcher helped but now that was over and he was home alone. Left with his thoughts in a big empty house.

"Sooo little brother want to tell me what's going on or am I gonna have to get mum in here?" Henry jumped at the voice and spun around to face his brother who was keeping a safe distance at the door. Wiping his hands down clearly just having washed them again.

"I ah its nothing, you know me I'm a worry wart" he said waving off his older brother he didn't want to bring down the mood of the small gathering, it was why he had come in here to take a breather.

"You called us all here for a visit hen, out of the blue when lockdown is still being eased out. Its clear you don't want to be alone, yet your sitting in here alone." His older brother said leaning on the door frame folding his arms trying to figure out what was really going on. He could see his little brother was hurting he wanted to help.

"I've got Kal" Henry said with a chuckle and looked about for the bear only to frown and sigh seeing the room was empty apart fro  him and his brother.

"Kal's outside with the kids hen, what's up? You can tell me you know" henry sided as his sibling  moved sitting in the small seat across from him. He knew that his family would listen but he felt so... spoilt like he was asking too much and was being selfish. It wasn't like him.

He grunted leaning back choosing not to look at his brother instead focusing on the cup in his hand. He spun it slightly then heaved a sigh. He wasn't getting away with not speaking about it, he was going to air out his worries one way or another. With his brother or his mother, and he loved his mother but this was? He wanted to keep this issues close to his chest. So far only Kal knew about his problems.

"I... I've had enough... just had enough of fucking covid and being alone... i felt isolated before all this shit kicked off and now?" He vented releasing all the fears he had. It was tough, he was a family man without his own little family, he hadn't managed to find anyone to share his life with and it got to him. He tried being sincere and polite, he took care of himself and tried staying true to himself but... something was missing it had to be! On paper he was a safe bet a good man! Yet his relationships never worked. There were different opinions or his other half couldn't handle the life style or they tried changing him or they couldn't put up with the way he loved so furiously- so openly wanting to always hold and kiss them. It just never quite worked.

"Its- fuck everything has just caught up with me...worries I've had for a few years now I could ignore them you know? I had other stuff going on, was always out and about meetings and press tours I was busy! But now?" He tried putting his feeling into words but he was conscious, he didn't want to whine or bitch about his life. He loved his work and the life he had made for himself he just? Wanted someone to share it with.

"Now after covid you've got all the time in the world to think?" Henry nodded agreeing with his brother. Covid had made him face these fears head on. He has been alone for the best part of a year with the uncertainty of his work and filming quarantines and isolations.

"Yeah, it hurts I'm... I'm in deep and I? I don't know how I'm getting out of this slump" henry finally said outloud, his brother dipped his head listening to him as he ranted. Started letting out all the frustration and anxiety out but stopped short with another growl closeing his hand around the cup tightly hissing in frustration then looked away.

"And what's caused it? I know you hate being alone but?" Henry sighed shaking his head as his brother tried coaxing more out of him. He drew in a shaky breath wanting to cry, he was just so lost and upset over being upset and alone.

"Two lock downs... Two alone- I? If this carries on for the next few years I don't... I don't want to be alone anymore! I want to settle down, I want an actual personal life! A relationship a family and? How? How am I gonna find all that? They want fame or money or something! Women never seem to want me for me, they say the do then judge me for my hobbies- I'm a geek I like tech and games and fantasy! And women don't like that" he spewed the words like they were venom, half ashamed of being so dramatic but the fear was real. Henry was scared, he wanted love. He wanted a family of his own, and it seemed impossible, now more then ever.

"I want to meet someone who will take me as I am, for me and I just I'm giving up. I'm giving up on it I can feel it, almost forty and look, alone unmarried no kids-I have no one to share my life with, it hurts am I not good enough for that?"  He hung his head as he spoke the final words put loud. He felt so vain and full of himself when he said them out loud, his skin crawled.

But it was how he felt, being the muscular decent looking man he was didn't go with his personality. He was a geek and the woman who were drawn to him didn't want that. And the woman that shared his hobbies normally weren't confident enough to even speak to him. Society's views on acceptable couples had put Henry in no mans land.

"What about online dating?" His brother spoke up but Henry just grunted rolling his eyes frustrated.

"What? No I cant do that I'd be fucking swamped" he hissed in irritation frustrated at the mere suggestion of him trying to date online.

"Whoa hold your horses let me finish I mean come on Hen there's bound to be hundreds of shy sweet women on there, I mean girls that are into your hobbies and stuff aren't usually the ones out and about partying and stuff, so its more likely they will be online" his brother quickly explained before Henry could pop off on one and shut him down.

Henry opened his mouth and stopped himself. That was a good point. Many of the women he would click with weren't going to be in bars or fancy parties. They were normally shy and at home most of the time reading or playing games.

"I... You really think i could meet someone? Meet the one online?" He asked in a small voice warming to the idea. His sibling smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes little brother, your a down to earth guy, just make a profile and have a look, if you don't like what you see you can delete the profile" henry nodded slowly thinking it over. There'd be no harm if he failed well he'd be no worse off, a little disheartened but that's about it.

"Look write down a few things you want in your dream girl, have a pseudo name like fucking I don't know Hank! Or something and say your a runner on set or something" his brother spoke up quickly as Henry sat back and actually thought about it seriously. He was right, henry could tweak things and be careful about what he shared and if he did meet the one then she'd understand... He could explain the predicament he was in. That he just wanted someone who liked him for him. And he would only reveal himself to her if she was the one and he was sure she would understand. As long as he was himself and honest about everything else in his life then there was no harm... and if he used proper photos of himself just... half cropped out then? It wasn't catfishing? Because he was being himself just using the nickname his mother used to call him.

"O-okay so be myself but... Just tweak a few things? So they don't know its me?" He reiterated to his brother still trying to figure out the morality of this whole idea.

"Yes! No full on pictures, no photos of Kal either new photos henry not old, maybe of your eyes up or something? Girls love blue eyed boy- not your right that brown will give you away... you could even fuck em up with a behind the scenes character photo? I mean come on how many men use a superman photo for their profile these days?" He encouraged wanting more then anything to cheer up his little brother.

"I yeah... That could work ,thank you- I'm sorry I got so worked up it... Its just getting to me now" henry apologised but his brother shook his head and chuckled standing up to go back outside to the others that were all happily chatting in the garden.

"I know Hen, look just give it a go, you might be surprized... come on lets get back out there, after all you are the host~ you cant just run off and hide" henry grinned standing and following his brother. It was decided, he'd give online dating a go!

A week later Henry sat at the computer everything was ready, he'd taken some precise photos and had spent the last half hour writing a profile up. He had felt a little guilty about this... Was he lying? Technically it was him, he was going by Hank which was a nickname his parents gave him as a child, luckily this site didn't require a surname because honestly? He had no clue! To fend off some guilt he had thrown in a behind the scenes photo of himself as superman it wasn't much but it helped take the edge off. The other photos were cropped and there were a good few just so that the women knew he wasn't technically a catfish; he even did one with him covering half of his face with a piece of paper with Hank scrawled across it. At the time he felt silly but it helped with his anxiety over the whole thing.

He paused for a second eyeing the screen rereading the profile over and over trying to make sure it was alright and honest. And it was, he had explained a little about himself, his hobbies and interests and his job... Only brushing over he worked for the film and tv industry recently working for Netflix he hadn't exactly explained what he did but there was enough information.

With a deep breath he clicked the button his mouse hovered over going live with the profile. Now all he had to do was wait and hope he caught a good womans eye. Within moments a few profiles popped up, matches. He scanned them flicking through some of the profiles and felt his heart crack. They were all full of badly filtered photos and used slang that to be honest he didn't even understand. What was so hard about using plain English?

He growled growing frustrated clicking through what were clearly a bunch of wannabe sugar babies. Each profile had a main photo a little bit of info then a few more pictures added to them. He scanned each one quickly going through the motions judging each one. 'Too far away... Your clearly not even eighteen?... Oh you like dc? Really hate to break it to you but thor is not a dc character' Henry grunted as he bypassed what felt like hundreds of women each with their own 'duck face' selfie most advertising their Instagram pages some even ballsy enough to add their only fans pages.

'Wait a second who was that?' He paused and scrolled back up and eyed the image on screen. It was a face on photo a cute woman smiling uncomfortably. Unlike everyone else's there was no distorting blur or heavy editing, the only make up was in the form of eyeliner in a set of black slightly uneven cat eyes. A slightly skewed black flicks making a point of no editing on the photo.

She was a full figured woman with proper kissable round cheeks and a sweet nervous grin. Her eyes were what got him, they were kind and genuine he could see she was uneasy about the photo but she was beautiful. She lived about half hour away which wasn't to bad.

Henry clicked the profile and scrolled down she didn't smoke, drunk occasionally and had no children. She did however have a college education in animal care and ran a small business. Centred on dogs by the looks of it. He moved further down reading the profile.

Y/n, 30, business owner, e/c, 5'4, curvy

I'm shy so will take a while to warm up to you. A honest woman, sometimes to honest I don't seem to have a filter 🤗 I'm laid back and tend to be sarcastic and I love animals I'm a kc certified dog breeder as well as run a small successful business that caters to dogs. So if you are allergic or don't like dogs then leave now but thank you for clicking🙃

I spend most of my free time gaming or reading. I enjoy the fantasy genre and love dc and marvel (though I love dc just a tad more🤫)

I have one fur baby in the form of my lovely girl Amii who is a three year old malamute. Yes malamute not a husky or Akita so again if you don't like dogs or big dogs I'm not the girl for you.

I'm looking for someone to have fun and maybe build a life with. Covid has been tough being single and decided that it was about time I tried this whole online dating thing. If you want to chat pop me a message 🥰

I do not have a personal Instagram, snapchat or only fans! Stop asking for pictures!😠😠

Henry's face split into a huge grin. She seemed to good to be true. She was wholesome, successful in her own right and looked fun. She didn't seem to be full of kale and bullshit. Just genuine and? Henry couldn't put his finger on it but there was something drawing him to this woman.

True to her word there was no Instagram link, no only fans or snap chat or anything. He scrolled further seeing photos of her and the biggest fluffiest dog he had ever seen in his life. She was sitting down next to who he assumed was Amii her dog and he melted. Y/n looked happy and content, living her best life.

There was nothing that sent alarm bells ringing, no racey photos or 'Netflix and chill' innuendos. The profile was clean and genuine.  He was right the woman was a little chunky but extraordinarily beautiful. The curves suited her and made her look more... cheerful and he could tell she was strong aswell, you had to be to have a huge dog like that about you.

There were photos of her walking a large pack of dogs in the wood; that he recognised! They were the very same he took Kal to only ten minuets down the road, he even recognised the small logo of her company on the jacket she wore. He had seen dog walkers wearing the same jacket so he knew of her brand. I he remembered correctly the company offered dog walking, grooming and kennel facilities as well as offering Breeding services helping stud dogs and stuff. They also helped advertise registered breeders and took in rescues for rehoming. It was a brilliant little company that he had even used for Kal once or twice to get his teeth cleaned and nails clipped, because Kal was a bugger for his pedicures!

He moved further down seeing more photos of the woman a small section with the games and tv she liked. Witcher was in both the tv and games category aswell as peaky blinders, Vikings and a few other shows.

Henry paused as he saw the chat button. Should he? He but his lip twisting on the spot in he chair rocking from side to side. What harm is there? He could just send a message she looked like a fun loving woman, he shared the same interests and stuff... so why not?

His fingers hovered over the keys ready to type out the words. But he choked. His mind ran blank what does he say? Hi? I saw your profile? Does he ask for a date? What does he do?

He let his hands fall and growled. Then scanned over the side of the message bar seeing a few pre-typed responses.

'It's a match!' 'You look fun, lets chat' 'I like your profile picture'

He winced they all seemed... wrong? Somehow they were polite and all but it- they wasn't personal or anything just... not quite right. He looked down as Kal came padding over and slumped next to him resting his chin on his foot with a loud sigh. With that Henry had an idea typing away a little message and hitting send before he could really think.

You sighed typing away the latest wage slips and added up all the various overtime, you really needed some more staff on now that lockdown was coming to an end. Thankfully animal care was essential so you hadn't been hit too hard a few staff were on furlough as they were extreme high risk and shielding but you were going out of your way to make the premises covid safe. Luckily it wasn't too hard as much of the business was just a few staff and lots of dogs.

You frowned when a chat icon popped up in to corner of your screen. 'Hank?' You though trying to remember if you knew a Hank? Maybe a client or some old friend... but you honestly couldn't recall. You l saved your document and clicked the small icon bringing up a chat and frowned a you read the little message.

'I call my dog bear but he has nothing on Amii, Shes the fluffiest dog I've ever seen in my life she looks perfect for bear hugs😅'

'what the hell?' You cursed scrunching your nose up at the screen rereading the words. That's a bit random... you clicked his icon a small photo of half of his face then froze as a dating profile opened up. 'Oh... shit' you said seeing that your own profile you'd set up a few days ago out of curiosity had garnered the attention of the handsome blue eyed stranger. You swallowed biting you lip thoughts of finishing updating your records now gone as you scanned Hanks profile and a small smile crossed your face.

Hank, 37, works in the film industry. Blue eyes, 6ft, muscular.

Decided to finally try this online dating, unsure what to say other then I'm looking for a life partner. I like to think I'm funny and laid back. I'm fit and active but that doesn't mean you have to be, but maybe my lady could come for walks with me and my four legged son? I promise he's my best freind and a good boy.

My job is tough and I'm away for long periods of time, but when I'm home I like to play games and am into warcraft. I paint miniatures when I can. Fantasy and superheroes are a big part of my hobbies so if you don't like all things geek then I'm probably not for you.

But if they are? Then feel free to message me, I will reply when I can.

You read and re-read the profile And your hands hovered over your chicklet keyboard. Biting your lip, do you respond? He seemed sweet and real... if that made sense. You took a deep breath. What was the worst that could happen? Asking for a plane ticket? You decided to take a chance and typed back a reply hitting send whilst you had your nerve and then flushed.

"And they say fluffy dogs only lure in women~" You giggled to yourself  moving a hand over the huge fluffy girl beside you giving her pets whislt thinking of a reply.

[chefdoeuvre]

Personal Growth

Kelly Severide

Pairing: Kelly Severide x Fem!Reader

Description: This is what we call personal growth.

Words: 1,012

Requested: yes by anonymous; Can you write a Kelly X reader in which she is afraid of fire due to past experience and she is taking really hard to date someone with a job that scares her

Warnings: mention of fires (self explanatory), fluff as per usual, angst (if you blink you'll miss it).

A/N: Kelly Severide, that's it. This is basically just my poetic ramblings. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors.

—

After losing some of your family in a fire it was safe to say you were borderline terrified of fires. Scratch that, you were and still are terrified of fires. Dating someone who's day to day job was going into fires scared the life out of you. Yet here you were, dating Kelly Severide, Squad lieutenant and basically a token reckless firefighter. Yeah, you didn't see that coming since the moment it happened. Of course, he makes you unbelievably happy, like all the giddiness and butterflies you could have ever imagined. Granted Kelly didn't know of your dilemma, which is why you're currently at a crossroads with him wanting you to finally meet his coworkers and family. It's not that you don't want to, it's that if you cement yourself into his life that'll give you all the more heartache if something were to ever happen to him while doing his firefighter duties.

They were far from commitment issues, it's just that with a job like his you don't want to put yourself through that type of loss again. Not after all the heartache, you suffered through the first and what you hoped to be the last time. So here you were, sitting on Kelly's couch with the Blackhawks playing on the television in the background while you overthought anything and everything about this relationship. Kelly was in his kitchen grabbing the two of you something to drink when he came back and saw the faraway look in your eyes. Placing the two drinks down on the table he took a seat beside you.

"Y/N? You all right?" Kelly questioned softly.

Snapping your head at the sudden voice of your boyfriend you looked at him, "huh? Yeah, I'm fine." You dismissed his worry.

"You sure? You were just staring off into space a second ago." Kelly tilted his head in concern.

You leaned back into the couch with a sigh. Leaning your head back you closed your eyes and thought over how you were supposed to tell him. You can't just say 'oh, hey. I suffered some trauma when I was young and now I'm terrified that I'm gonna lose you the same exact way.' if you did you're sure he'd go running for the hills.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" Kelly furrowed his brows, placing a warm hand on your cheek eliciting you to open your eyes and look at him.

Taking in a deep breath you decided to just come out and say it, what's the worst that could happen? Actually, disregard that last statement it could go horribly wrong. Throughout your entire explanation outlining your thoughts and fears, Kelly listened intently. His attention was solely on you and trying to figure out what was troubling you. By the end of your so-called rant, you were out of breath.

"So are you gonna say anything?" You asked scared of what his reply would be.

His cobalt eyes softened as he took in your fearful expression. The hand still cupping your jaw began caressing your cheek softly.

“You know, you could’ve told me. I’m not going to laugh at your feelings.” Kelly spoke softly, shaking his head, “your fears are not irrelevant either.”

To say the least you were slightly taken aback by how kind he was being. In reality, you shouldn’t be surprised, this was Kelly, the guy who’d spent the last few years of his life becoming a better person before eventually meeting you and stealing your heart.

“So you’re not gonna break up with me?” You leaned into his hand.

“Why would I, you know how long it took me to get over myself and finally ask you out on a date?” Kelly chuckled at the distant memory that felt like it happened yesterday.

You let out a giggle at the picture in your mind of the suave Kelly you know as a blubbering, awkward mess trying to formulate a plan to ask you out.

“There’s that pretty smile.” Kelly grinned widely as you smiled bashfully. You felt your cheeks heat up at the insinuation.

“Next time you’re worried just talk to me. I’m not just here for arm candy you know.” Kelly teased with a smirk.

“Way to ruin the moment, Romeo.” You shoved him playfully with a laugh. He held the place on his chest where you shoved him in mock hurt.

“Hey, if it gets you to laugh I’m all for it.” Kelly shrugged while you looked at him with a flat look.

“Fine, fine. Just know you can talk to me. I’ll try my best to keep you posted and reassured, even if it means having to make fun of myself.” Kelly feigned a pout and held his hands up in play surrender.

“You’re unbelievable.” You rolled your eyes before leaning forward into his chest with a laugh.

“Anything for you.” Kelly smiled before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’d hope so, after that heartfelt speech and all.” You scoffed playfully and he pulled you onto his lap before wrapping his arms around your waist tightly. You let out a yelp at the sudden movement before relaxing into his arms.

“I’m not going anywhere and if I have anything to do with it you’re not leaving this apartment tonight.” Kelly squeezed your hips with a loving smile.

“So Blackhawks and beer all night?” You asked with a raised brow and a wide grin.

“Of course, how else would I keep you entertained for so long?” Kelly joked as you dropped your head onto his shoulder with a laugh.

The two of you remained in each other’s grasp the whole night, playfully teasing and watching the game being played on the television. It was safe to say you and Kelly were head over heels for each other given the fact the two of you would burst out into random bouts of laughter throughout the entirety of the night. Yes, you were still scared but now with Kelly’s reassurance and knowledge about your feelings, it made you feel a bit better.

[h34rtizuku]

𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔶 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔶

i hate angst without happy endings, but i’m also self-destructive. therapy is expensive, but ripping your own heart out and bearing your insecurities into a full-fledged story for you and others to read? free.

warnings : angst without a happy ending, insecurities, jealousy, mayhaps toxic behavior?? idk if ur looking for a good time, this isn’t for you bestie <3 also i might misspell uraraka’s name wrong a few times, i’ll fix them later :*

being quirkless had its advantages. with such a small number of us being born without powers, it left a lot of the mundane jobs open.

which is why, as soon as pro-hero deku opened his agency, i came to him with the request to be his assistant.

on the daily, he had people coming up to him asking for internships or to be his sidekick. but he never had anyone ask to be his assistant.

being the number one hero often meant that every day things, things one may take for granted or deem insignificant became just another list of things on the busy man’s to-do list.

therefore the appeal of having someone file his paper work and run to get him coffee in the morning was great enough to hire me.

and i was glad he did.

this is what i have been working for since i was a first year in high school. after watching the freckled boy break limb after limb to defeat his opponent.

yeah, i saw it as irresponsible and stupid that he had to break his own body to save others. but i was willing to overlook it.

my one goal during my remaining years of high school and up to college was that wherever that little green haired boy went, i would follow.

and that reigned true as his assistant. i would shuffle after him like a duckling following it’s mother, wherever he needed me.

if he needed me in a briefing to take notes for him, i was there. if he needed me to put in overtime to help him file the last minute paperwork, i was there. if he wanted a particular pastry from a specific bakery half way across town, i was there.

izuku was never mean, or demanding. always thanking me profusely for anything i ever did for him. leaving me to remind him that this was my job, and any way to make his life easier was good enough for me.

but maybe i should have held onto those blushed cheeks and crinkled eyes as he thanked me for the coffee that he didn’t even know he needed, for a just a little bit longer.

you know how a child will open a new toy on christmas and it quickly becomes their new favorite toy? playing with it non-stop, taking it wherever they go. until one day, they grow bored of it and never touch it again as it grows dusty at the bottom of their toy bin.

i know izuku wasn’t doing it on purpose, he didn’t have an intentionally mean bone in his body. i guess you could say, some other toys came around and took his attention away.

and that toy, was a particularly difficult mission in collaboration with uravity’s agency.

the two spent long hours cooped in his office as they went over notes, plans, intel, etc. until the conversation melted into talk about the old days and the wonderful memories they had together in high school.

i went to work the following days with absolutely no energy to handle whatever would be thrown at me. i hadn’t been able to get much sleep, as when i closed my eyes the only thing i could see was the look in his eyes when he saw her.

my patience was already thin given the events of the most recent week, but when the printer started malfunctioning leaving me unable to fax the papers izuku wanted me send, you could say that was the first domino.

i swatted and kicked and pressed any button on the stupid machine. telling myself i was merely trying to get to stupid thing to work, but deep down i knew that the printer was just my temporary punching bag. an outlet to unleash my anger and emotions onto something instead of letting them fester inside me.

so when one of izuku’s sidekicks came by, giving a snarky comment about my behavior, i was able to brush it off with a roll of my eyes and an equally snippy comment back.

but as the hunk of plastic remained steady in its plan to ruin my day, the lack of sleep and lingering resentment started to bubble within me once more.

i heard footsteps behind me and a joking voice say, “having a bit of trouble are we?”

if it weren’t for the white hot anger buzzing in my ears i may have been able to identify the voice before i lashed out on them. but we already established this was not my day.

so as my hands moved to clutch the machine below me, most likely to restrain my abuse to merely verbal instead of physical. i spit out, “listen i’m fucking trying okay? so how about you get off my ass and do something useful.”

i turned around to face who i thought would be another sidekick sent to push my buttons. but i instead came face-to-face with the green haired man himself.

eyes blown wide, mouth agape in shock, a light blush dusted under his freckles as he fought to handle the situation the best way he could.

but i beat him to it with a deep bow and an endless flow of apologies, opting to only blame my anger on the malfunctioning piece of junk behind me and not the several other reasons i was plotting murder in my head.

with a gentle smile and a soft chuckle he placed his hand to the back of his head, rubbing at the baby jade hairs of his undercut. “i see. bad days happen to the best of us.” he replied, his voice like honey.

i became drunk on the minor interaction he was giving me, bringing me back to the beginning days at this job where we would spend late nights trying to keep each other awake under the only singular yellow light as we finished paperwork. or where sometimes he’d invite me to spend lunch with him as he felt he’d enjoy the company.

i got lost in the intricacies of his face as he tampered with the printer. thin eyebrows furrowed in concentration, bottom lip captured between his thick scarred fingers as he muttered to himself.

i fell in a trance, locked on the slope of his button nose, his gemstone eyes, and chubby caramel cheeks dusted in freckles.

he looked essentially like the same boy i saw on the screen all those years ago, yet matured and hardened by the realities of life.

i wanted nothing more than to reach out and protect him any way my small quirkless body could. to be there for him the same way he was for everyone else.

he eventually got the printer to work with a boyish smile on his face as he told me that despite the good roughing up i gave the machine, he was able to locate and handle the issue. “next time, skip the punching and come find me, yeah? i’ll help with any problems you face.” he joked as he made his way into his office to resume his work.

i didn’t know it was possible to fall harder for that man, but he proved with every day of his existence that the impossible didn’t apply to him.

i was finally able to get some sleep the next few nights as my eyelids filled with the blush on his cheekbones and his gaze of concentration.

but my trip to cloud 9 didn’t last very long as the occasional meeting with uraraka became trips to her agency, and occasional meetings in civilian clothes to civilian places, like coffee shops and corner stores.

to anyone else, those would read as dates. to me, they read as dates. but izuku assured the gossiping sidekicks that it was strictly professional ~ nothing more, nothing less.

i knew that i would end up with more fits of restlessness and sleepless nights as i pictured the two of them laughing over a cup of coffee. so i sought out a replacement.

a moment. a look. a sentence.

anything directed at me that would choke out the ugly thoughts and images my brain would show me of the two of them together.

so that afternoon as i brought him his lunch, i placed the box safely onto the table beside him as he continued skimming through the papers littered across the desk.

he muttered a small ‘thank you’ but it wasn’t enough. as my hand moved to place his drink that i held in my other hand next to his food, a different idea popped in my head.

my hand moved faster than my brain could register what it had just planned to do. squeezing just enough for the lid to pop off and slip from my fingers to tumble into his lap.

as soon as the liquid and ice hit his lap he flew up from his seat and away from his desk.

my hands flew up to my mouth as a string of apologies fell from my lips. eyes watering in guilt as they moved around the room trying to locate something to soak up the mess with.

“i am so sorry, my fingers slipped and before i knew it i had lost control of the cup. i-i can’t tell you how sorry i am.” i rambled as i took my blazer off to wipe at the wet stains starting to form at the bottom of his teal suit.

“hey, hey, hey.” he said softly, taking my tinier hands into his large and battered ones. warmth enveloped my clutched sticky hands as he gently urged me to stand from my crouching position in front of him.

“it was an accident. no harm, no foul.” he said with a soft smile.

i should feel bad, as it wasn’t entirely an accident. but the warm and gentle look in his eyes made what little guilt i felt crumble away.

his thumbs rubbing soft circles to my skin as he worked to get the tears to stop streaming from my eyes was enough to get me to sleep like a baby for a good 2 weeks.

until it became a cycle. he would spend too much time around uraraka, and then i would do something all in the name of garnering his attention back on me.

was it wrong of me to do, to take advantage of his kindness? to take advantage of the fact that he was naive to my true intentions? maybe.

but i felt i deserved it. i felt i deserved to be looked at the same way he looked at her.

i wasn’t any different than she was. with the way she used her big brown eyes to pull him in. or the way her cute behavior made him blush. or the way her sweet way of talking made him laugh.

i can’t be her, or compare to her. so i found my own way around it. and no one could fault me for doing so. they just couldn’t.

at the end of the mission, uravity decided to throw a party in celebration of their win. a nice formal gathering, with everyone she had involved.

when izuku pulled me aside one late night to tell me that he was extending the invitation to me felt akin to a marriage proposal.

i wasn’t involved much in the case, merely being used as the one who provided them their lunch on their long meeting days. or filing and organizing the paperwork and notes that they would compile. i wasn’t out in the field, breaking bones like izuku or saving lives like uraraka.

i didn’t deserve to go, but i didn’t care. izuku had invited me personally and damn it, i was gonna be there.

yet, i shouldn’t have gone.

i shouldn’t have spent the hours on my makeup. i shouldn’t have enlisted the help of my best friend to do my hair as i gushed about how izuku had personally invited me, how he was the most perfect man ever, and how i was undoubtedly in love with him.

i shouldn’t have spent the week leading up to the event going from shop to shop trying to find the prettiest dress that was just the exact color of his eyes. i shouldn’t have spent about half my paycheck on said dress when i found it.

i shouldn’t have decided to face my fears and step out of my comfort zone to join a group of heroes that i knew were old classmates of izuku’s as they whispered about something that clearly was a raving topic.

because then i wouldn’t have heard how izuku was planning on confessing to uraraka. i wouldn’t have heard how this mission caused old high school feelings to rekindle. i should have known my place.

and that was far away from here, from the hero scene. i should have grown up to be an accountant or a chef.

when my father took me to get that checkup when i was 5, to confirm that there truly resides no quirk inside me.

i should have left it at that.

when i was riding my bike that day as a first year and i saw the group of boys huddled around a screen as they tuned into the u-a sports festival, i should have kept riding.

as maybe it would have saved me a lot of pain.

i backed away slowly, heels tapping against the tile floor as i hurried out of the building.

i didn’t realize how suffocated i felt until the chilly autumn hair brushed my face and into my lungs.

my whole body felt hot, i felt numb. i stumbled onto the sidewalk as i looked into the dark azure sky glittered with stars.

the tears finally spilled from my eyes as the stars muddled together into a messy blur. my stomach swirled and tensed as pit of nausea sunk in my stomach.

my chest heaved as it tried to process the crisp cold air into oxygen, but my throat was too tight to let much in.

i gasped and sobbed as my back hit the brick behind me, my legs wobbling unable to carry my weight much longer.

i slid into a crouched position as my tears mixed with the black of my mascara. streaming in pools down my cheeks, neck, and chest.

in the midst of my sobbing and heaving, i called my friend who was still at my apartment awaiting details of that night when i came home.

knowing it was far too early for me to be calling her she picked up the phone with confusion. it didn’t take much words from me, not like i gave her much, to convince her that she needed to come pick me up.

as she hung up the phone, my hand slipped from my ear, falling limp to my side as i placed my head into my other arm resting atop my knees.

this was inevitable and i knew it. no matter how many ways i was able to manipulate a sweet glance from him, it didn’t mean anything.

izuku was nice to everybody. sweet to everyone. kind to anyone.

but with her, it was different. he treated her that way, not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

they had years of memories, of laughs. they were perfect for each other, both smart, and kind, and always looking to help others. never acting selfishly or for personal gain.

they shared soft touches like they did old stories. they looked at each other with the same respect and admiration.

i was wrong. uraraka and i are nothing alike. she didn’t have to beg izuku to look at her like she hung the moon, he did so without asking.

unbeknownst to me, as i was manipulating izuku into these fabricated moments of gentle gazes and kind words, i was manipulating myself.

lying to the deepest parts of me that knew that this wasn’t real. that i wasn’t her. that he didn’t think of us the same way.

to him, uraraka is an old friend, who views the world the same way he does, who shares his same passions, who built her quirk to do some good within this world.

to him, i was a coffee-getter, the girl who knew his lunch orders like the back of her hand, the girl who filed his papers. the quirkless little fangirl who practically begged him to give her a job under him.

i heard the metal door open and snap shut announcing that someone was now outside with me. however, i just assumed it was a party-goer stepping outside for a smoke or a phone call so i didn’t bother to look up.

i also wasn’t in the mood for if the person happened to be a drunk girl who was ready to become my therapist as she saw me crouched on the sidewalk wishing to become one with the cement and simply cease to exist.

“there you are, i was wondering where you went?”

i would have taken the amateur therapist over this.

the voice belonged to izuku, dripping with sugar and default kindness.

if i could become one with the bricks just a little bit faster that would be great.

“hey, are you alright?” his tone became worried but i still didn’t dare to look up from my arms.

“do you feel sick? did something happen? do i need to take you home?” there he goes, into hero mode. ready to drop anything to help anyone facing the slightest of inconveniences.

“please just leave me alone.” i mumbled, throat tight and voice wavering as i try to hold the tears that still remain to fall.

“what did you say? i didn’t quite hear you.” he said softly, gently setting his large hands onto my exposed shoulder.

they should feel like welcoming warmth, but instead they felt blistering hot as i shoved them away as quickly as i could.

“i said leave me alone.” i said, slightly louder as i no longer was stuffed in my arms and knees.

he immediately saw the mess my face was in, i could tell by the way he quickly reverted fully into deku.

“hey, what’s wrong? whatever it is, i can help. didn’t i say you could come to me whenever you ne-“

“oh my god just stop! i can’t take it anymore.” i snapped, finally able to look him in the face.

but not for long as i saw the same look on his complexion as the first time i snapped at him.

“you’re too fucking nice. leaving you vulnerable for people to take advantage of you. giving them a reason to be selfish.”

“i dont-“ he tried to start but i cut him off.

“i don’t need a hero, izuku. there are people you just can’t save.”

as he worked to wrap his head around what was happening, my friend pulled up in my getaway car.

i bent down and grabbed my purse, but before i could fully escape this night, izuku grabbed my wrist causing me to stare into his eyes.

now lit aflame with desperation, “please just tell me what’s wrong. let me help you.” he encouraged softly.

but i wasn’t going to fall for it, not again.

i wasn’t gonna be played for the fool as i took the soft look in his eyes for anything but the gaze of a hero hoping to add another save to their statistics.

“god you never know when to quit!” i yelled as i yanked my wrist back. “and i hate that i-“

loved that about you?

no, love that about you.

i shook my head, thankful that for once my brain caught my actions before i spilled and made a mess again.

i walked quickly to the car, opening the passenger door almost as fast in hopes that within its metal sanctuary i could finally escape this hell.

“y/n- i-“

“mr. midoriya.” i just about whispered, my energy long since drained.

he laughed gently and i cursed the way my heart squeezed a little at the sound.

still head over heels for the angelic sound.

“you haven’t called me that in a long-“

“i quit.”

“w-what?” he muttered in disbelief.

i wouldn’t believe it either, not after the way i came to him nearly 4 years ago saying i would even be willing to clean toilets if he asked me to, so long as i got to work for him.

“i quit.” i repeated.

“you don’t mean that.”

he’s right i didn’t, not really.

hot tears started to dribble as my lower lip puckered in a sour quiver.

“no i do, sir.” i shook. “i will send someone to collect my things on monday.”

and with that i closed the door.

“drive.” i whispered to my friend who after a moment of looking at me, trying to read me, silently put the car into drive and started forward.

leaving izuku behind to stumble after the car, mouth muttering, trying to form any sort of sentence or sense.

but i couldn’t see him, knowing not to look at the mirrors situated on the side of the vehicle.

for they too are liars, as objects in the mirror are farther than they appear.

*** my little blue bitch working overtime

🧼 also mayhaps “soap” by melanie martinez fits this story… unintentionally ~ but if i’m wrong it’s cuz i haven’t listened to it in a while

[fruitcoops]

HNY!! what about like a posessive remus? i feel like most of the time he is really soft but he has a jealous side!?!

Haz recently answered an ask on this topic and it’s been living rent-free in my head ever since. Apologies to any Beths out there, I’m sure you’re wonderful people!

Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for alcohol, bars/ clubs, hickeys, and someone being too handsy

Sirius really wasn’t a fan of loud bars, but he was happy to make an exception for Kasey’s birthday. Besides, his real issue with clubs was being hit on by women without having a great reason to turn them down—now that the entire world knew about him and Remus, he was hoping he could actually enjoy hanging out with his friends.

“You want a refill?” he asked over the noise, gesturing toward Remus’ empty glass. The colorful lights cast such beautiful shadows on his face and made his eyes sparkle. He nodded, smiling, and Sirius gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as he headed for the bar.

A warm arm snaked around his waist just as he was about to get the bartender’s attention. “Hey, sw…um, hello.”

“Hi,” the girl giggled, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a flirtatious smile. “I’m Beth.”

“Nice to meet you.” He gingerly removed her arm, but she reached up and trailed a finger down his chest. “Sorry, I’m not interested.”

“You’re so strong,” she continued. “Are you a football player?”

“Hockey. Look, I’m just here to—”

“Hockey?” She giggled again and he internally rolled his eyes. Nobody giggled like that in real life. “Wow, that’s really hot.”

“Cool. Thanks. Have a nice night, Beth.”

Her face lit up when he said her name. “Are you French? That’s sexy.”

“Canadian.” He turned away from her and took a slight step away, flagging down the bartender.

Not even two seconds later, her hand squeezed his hip. “Do you want to get out of here for a bit?” A sly look accompanied a lip bite. “Get some air?”

He watched the bartender like a hawk. “No, I’m good.” Come on, man, who orders six beers at once? One guy can’t carry all of them.

“It’ll be fun, I promise.”

Sirius sighed, steeling himself as he faced her again. “This is very flattering, but I came here with somebody and—”

“I don’t see her,” Beth purred, leaning up toward him.

“Turn around,” a new voice said coldly. Beth froze as Remus cocked his head with a polite smile. “Hello.”

“Um, hi.”

“Everything okay over here?” he said as he slid into Sirius side and put his hand in his back pocket. “You were gone a while. I missed you.”

“All good now.” Sirius tried to contain his grin. “Beth and I were just having a chat.”

Beth looked between them. “I thought you said you came here with someone?”

Remus’ smile never faltered for a second. “Yeah. Me.”

Without another word, he grabbed Sirius by the shirt collar and pulled him in for a searing kiss that caused every thought in his head to fizzle into bliss; when they separated, both slightly out of breath, Beth was nowhere in sight. Remus’ smug look as he ran his thumb over his lower lip was doing nothing to quell his tingling nerves. “I had that handled,” Sirius managed after a moment, leaning on the nearest bar stool for support.

“I know,” Remus said, patting him lightly on the rear.

The bartender finally finished and came over. “Sorry, that guy took a while. What can I get for you?”

“Did you want anything?” Sirius looked over to Remus, who paused.

“Actually, I think I’m good now, but thank you.” There was something brewing on his face as a crowd of girls walked by and didn’t even try to hide their wandering eyes. He tugged Sirius’ back pocket. “C’mere for a second.”

At first, Sirius thought they were heading back to the table, but Remus took a sharp turn around the dance floor and pulled him into one of the few dark spots of the bar, pushing him up against the wall and attaching himself to his neck. He laced his fingers in Remus’ hair as a wave of heat washed over him, blurring the world into an abstract painting of pretty colors and thumping bass.

Remus pulled away with a pop but kept their chests pressed together and traced the hickey he had left. “Hmm. Not bad.”

“Huh?” Sirius so eloquently responded. Remus hummed and cuddled closer; there was a fading spark of something in his eye before he kissed him, slow and deep. “Huh?”

“I’d like to see Beth manage that,” Remus said, tapping the side of Sirius’ neck with a self-satisfied smirk. “We should probably head back.”

Excitement fluttered in his stomach. “Home?”

“No,” Remus laughed. “It’s Kasey’s birthday and we’ve been gone for a while now.”

“Oh.” We could sneak out. We could wish him happy birthday and then run straight for our bedroom because you are insanely hot and I love you. “Yeah, sounds good.”

The music at their table seemed louder than it had been when he left; he winced slightly as he scooted in next to James. “Jesus, Pads, did you get in a fight?” James asked, staring at his neck. Talker’s jaw dropped.

“Nope,” Remus said as he settled into his own seat with a lazy grin. James’ eyes went wide and Natalie whooped from Kasey’s lap.

“Any reason for leaving the biggest goddamn hickey I’ve ever seen in my life?” Talker laughed. “Holy shit, Loops.”

Remus turned to Sirius and raised an eyebrow. “Her name was Beth,” Sirius explained, stealing a sip of James’ water to hide his smile. “And she was…handsy.”

“Nobody else is going to make that mistake now,” James muttered.

“Yeah, I know,” Remus said, running his foot up Sirius’ calf. “That’s the whole point.”

[scripts4dreamers]

And Stuff

AN: When you decided on a life of academia, you’d never expected to meet someone like Spencer Reid 

Characters: Spencer Reid Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader Spoilers: None Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

------------------

You hated this stupid paper, you really really did. You stared blankly at your screen, reading and rereading the same two paragraphs in the vain hope that something would stick, but it was all gibberish.

“Hey, there’s my favorite PhD student,” a familiar voice called, collapsing into the seat beside you, “coffee?”

“Please,” you sighed gratefully, wrapping your hands around the disposable cup and taking a deep sip. It was perfect, just warm enough to shock some life back into you, “I owe you one, Prof. Reid.”

Spencer wrinkled his nose distastefully, and you laughed.

“I told you I hate that,” he said.

“And we both know that’s a lie,” you teased back, “you love being called Professor.”

“By my students,” he admitted, “not by you. How’s the thesis outline coming along?”

You sighed, “it’s not.”

“Can I take a look?” Spencer asked, reaching out towards you.

“Noooooo way,” you said, closing your laptop quickly, “not until it’s done.”

“But, Y/N-“

“No, Spence! It’s terrible.”

Spencer stuck his tongue out at you but didn’t press the issue as he pulled a stack of unmarked essays out of his satchel. You and Spencer had met a few years ago, when you’d both started a BA in philosophy. It was your third undergraduate degree, but like Spencer’s hundredth, and you’d bonded over your love of academia almost instantly. By now, meeting in one of the common areas to study and work together was almost a ritual, twice a week at least, every week of the semester. You loved it, you relied on it really. Without Spencer you were sure you’d have lost your mind years ago.

Spencer couldn’t always stay long, after all he was still a hot shot FBI agent, but even just the little bit of time you did have together was like a breath of fresh air. You both looked forward to the chance to talk about something other than your jobs for once.

“I’m sure it’s not, Y/N/N,” Spencer assured.

“Mhhm,” you said unconvincingly, “what about you? Did you get your epistemology paper in on time?”

“Oh yeah. I’m not sure anything I wrote technically qualifies as an argument, but it’s done.” Spencer replied, his eyes tracing the papers in front of him at lightning speed and marking as he went

You could see the signs of exhaustion on his face and your stomach pinched with concern. Spencer was a genius, you knew that better than anyone, but even he wasn’t immune to the stresses of university life. He was always burning the candle at both ends, taking on more than any reasonable person could ever hope to accomplish, and that was before he started teaching an intro to criminology class. It worried you.

“Spence?”

He looked up, his eyes still glassy and faraway, the hint of a smile on his lips, “Mmhmm?”

You frowned, “Are you okay? You look exhausted.”

Spencer nodded, “Did you know that some studies have shown that an adult man can actually survive on as little as two hours of sleep a night without showing outwards signs of exhaustion?” He rambled, gesturing at nothing with his hands, “Sleep deprivation will, of course, affect your mental capabilities over time, but the amount of time that process actually takes is fairly individual. In my case-“ he looked over, noticed you raising your eyebrows at him, and laughed, obviously realising just how tired he was. “Yeah I’m a little tired,” he admitted, “it’s just been a long week that’s all. I was up for a few days for a case,,” he nudged your shoulder with his, “you know if you took me up on my offer I’d probably have more time to sleep.”

“Me? Join the FBI?” You scoffed, shaking your head, “No way. I’ve never even held a gun.”

“Neither had I before I joined.”

“Yeah but you’re-“ you gestured in his general direction, “you know.”

“I’m what?”

“You know,” you huffed, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment, “strong. And brave. And stuff.”

Spencer laughed but he looked pleased with himself nonetheless, “you think I’m strong and brave?”

“And stuff,” you clarified, “I’m an academic. I’m perfectly happy in a dark room with my dusty books and manuscripts, thank you very much.”

Spencer nodded, stealing a sip of your coffee and grimacing at the taste, “is there any sugar in this at all?”

“You tell me,” You answered, “you bought it.”

“Well there’s obviously not enough, you can still taste the actual coffee,” he said, just as his phone started to beep frantically.

Spencer took it out of his pocket and frowned at the screen. Your heart sunk a little but, when Spencer looked up at you apologetically, you shot him a small smile.

“Duty calls,” you said simply.

Spencer nodded, packing his stack of papers back into his satchel, “I’m sorry, Y/N/N. I’ll see you back here on Friday?”

“Sure,” you agreed, “if you’re back by then.”

“And you’ll send me your thesis outline when you’re finished with it?”

“Of course.”

Spencer wrapped one arm around your shoulder, giving you a quick hug, “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Enjoy your day.”

“Good luck, Professor,” you smiled, waving him off, “and thanks for the coffee!”

He waved back at you, half jogging and already on the phone as he vanished into the incoming crowds. You watched him go, sighing sadly as you turned back to your unfinished outline.

“Okay, Y/N, you can do this. Spencer’s written like three of these, let’s go.” You muttered, “The psychological implications of linguistic progression, think.”

You threw yourself back into your research, losing yourself in the methodical nature of your work. The coffee next to you got cold.

————————

Spencer was flushed by the time he made it into the office, his cheeks hurting with the effort of suppressing his smile. Time with you always did that to him, no matter how drained he was when he first arrived.

You were like a ray of sunshine on an otherwise very gloomy day, and ten minutes with you was better for his mental health than a whole weekend’s worth of sleep. You were sweet, and funny, and you let him ramble about whatever he wanted to and even pretended to listen. Meeting you for coffee every week had become more than an act of friendship, it was an act of self care, a thin thread holding what was left of his sanity together.

His phone chimed and he smiled down at the message, a picture of you sipping your coffee and giving the cameras a big thumbs up:

Go kick some bad guy ass, Wise Guy!

He started typing up a reply but, before he could, someone interrupted.

“Good date, Pretty Boy?” Morgan greeted.

“It’s not a date, Morgan, you know that,” Spencer replied, fondly, “it’s just coffee with a friend.”

“Oh yeah it’s totally not a date, just a biweekly coffee hangout with someone you’ve been in love with since forever.”

“Yeah, exactly,” he smiled.

“But it did go well, then?” He retorted with a knowing smile.

Spencer smiled and nodded, “She thinks I’m strong and brave and stuff.”

“And stuff?”

“And stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?” Prentiss interjected.

Spencer froze, “I don’t know, I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Does she know you’re not dating?” Prentiss asked.

“What? Yes of course! Or-maybe? I don’t know we haven’t exactly talked about it.” Spencer replied.

“No, she doesn’t know,” Morgan clarified.

Spencer opened his mouth to argue but, before he could, Garcia cut in.

“Okay my little geniuses, it’s a weird one today. Let’s get briefed,” Garcia called.

“When do we get to meet her?” Prentiss whispered as they took their seats.

“Never,” Spencer replied.

Emily pouted, “you’re no fun.”

Spencer smiled but, as the briefing went on and the picture of their newest case got clearer and clearer, so did something else; they couldn’t do this alone. They needed help, very very specific help. His heart sunk. As they headed to the jet, Spencer pulled out his phone, wishing to God he didn’t have to.

“Hey, Y/N, remember how you said you owed me one?”

—————————-

This had to be some sort of nightmare, you thought to yourself as you stepped off the jet. When Spencer had first called you, you’d laughed, told him to stop joking around and tell you what he actually wanted but, as it turned out, he was serious. They had a case, he’d said, one that required a certain set of expertise, one that only you had. And you couldn’t really say no could you? Not to Spencer.

And now you’d solved it. It was over. Your hands were shaking and you’d never been this tired in your life, but it was over. You felt a hand on your shoulder and jumped.

“Hey, it’s alright, kid,” Derek Morgan assured you, “you’re okay.”

You nodded, even though it wasn’t a question and gave him a small smile.

“I know.”

Derek nodded, his dark eyes boring into you in that way only members of the BAU could, like they were looking into you and not at you, so you tried to look brave.

“You did good work on this case,” Derek said, walking back to the building with you, “without you I’m not sure we would’ve caught the guy.”

You shook your head, “Spen-Reid would have figured it out eventually.”

Derek pressed his lips together, “Probably, but even he said it would’ve taken him days to reconstruct the language from scratch, even without adding the psychology behind it. In that time who knows how many people our UnSub would have been able to get.”

You looked over your shoulder to where Spencer was standing at the base of the jet’s stairs, looking everywhere but at you. He’d been acting distant for a while now, ever since Hotch had decided to strap you into a bulletproof vest and send you in to talk a maniac off a ledge. The UnSub had been having some sort of psychotic break, he’d forgotten how to speak English and communicated exclusively in a language he’d created himself, a combination of several that pointed to details about his personal life. It was fascinating, in the worst way possible, a real life application of the theory you’d been working on for years. It would make your thesis a piece of cake to finish.

The thought made you feel nauseous.

“Is he-“ you asked Derek, pressing your lips together nervously, “is he angry at me or something?”

He frowned, “Reid? No. He’s crazy about you, he looks forward to those coffee dates with you every week for days.”

You flushed, “They're not dates, Derek.”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” he replied, sarcastically, “slip of the tongue.” He ruffled your hair fondly, “Go on, talk to him, I’ll call you a cab when you’re done.”

You nodded and hung back, letting Derek’s hulking form vanish into the FBI building as you made your way slowly back toward the jet. Spencer was staring up at the moon, looking pensive and beautiful and painfully sad.

“Hey, there’s my favorite profiler,” you greeted gently, “you alright?”

“Hey,” he replied, still looking up at the moon, “why didn’t you go inside with everyone else?”

“I was waiting for you,” you explained, “I wanted to see if you’re okay.”

“If I’m okay?” He laughed incredulously, meeting your eye, “Y/N, I’m out here because I’m trying to figure out what I could possibly say to make up for what I just put you through.” He explained, “This...this stuff-it’s my world, not yours. I should never have brought you into it.”

“Spencer you needed me, your team needed an expert and, no offense, but your social circle isn’t big enough to have two experts in linguistic psychology.” You teased gently.

Spencer chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest.

You stepped forward, resting a hand gently on his bicep, “You made the right decision, Spence. I’m glad you called, I’m-“ you paused, “I’m glad you let me help you.”

Spencer snorted, “And it nearly got you killed.”

“It didn’t nearly get me killed-“

“Yes. It did,” he insisted, “the UnSub was psychotic, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t have killed you on sight. Hotch should never have let you-I should never have let you go in there.”

“But I wanted to and I’m fine. The case is over, Spence, we’re in the clear.” You assured him, “Things can go back to normal now.”

“No, they can’t!” Spencer practically shouted, turning to face you, his eyes red and puffy. You instinctively stepped back and Spencer pressed his lips together, looking guilty, “Y/N, I-knowing you were in danger and that there was nothing I could do about it...it killed me. You were never meant to know about any of this, you were meant to be safe! I was meant to keep you safe!” He explained, running a hand through his hair, “You were the one thing in my life that this stuff couldn’t touch and now-“ he breathed, “now everytime you look at me you’re gonna think about this, and him, and everything I put you through and-“ he met your eye, “and things will be weird and you’ll stop wanting to talk to me. Things won’t be the same, Y/N.”

You flushed and stepped forward, “You're worried that I’m not gonna talk to you anymore?” You asked. Spencer didn’t answer, but the way he avoided your eye and worked his jaw seemed like answer enough, “Spence,” you smiled, “you’re like...my favorite person in the world. This stuff,” you gestured around, “what you do, it doesn’t change that. In fact I think it’s kind of incredible. You guys tracked down a serial killer based on nothing but some muddled letters, who does that?” You laughed.

Spencer didn’t respond, but the edges of his lips twitched, like he wanted to smile. You watched him for a moment, the way he held his head, the way his eyes darted up to yours. He was just as beautiful as he’d always been, but there was something more now. He was vulnerable, you realized, really vulnerable for the first time since you’d known him. No matter what he said, Spencer was reaching out to you.

“Your world is messed up, Spencer,” you continued, stepping forward and taking his hand, “but you aren’t. We aren’t, and I’m glad I got to be there when you needed me. We’re good, okay?”

“Do you promise?” He asked, his voice small.

You squeezed his hand, “I promise.”

Spencer nodded, squeezing back, and let you slowly pull him back towards the FBI building.

“Besides,” you continued, “you still owe me a look at my thesis.”

Spencer snorted, “That’ll literally take me 3 seconds.”

“Show off.”

“What? It’s true.” He laughed.

You suddenly realized that Spencer was still holding your hand and, when he saw you looking and tried to pull away, you held on tighter. Spencer smiled nervously, and you felt a rush of something warm and promising flow through you.

“Hey, Y/N?” He started nervously.

“Yes, Spencer?”

“Are we dating?” He asked.

“After today? We’d better be. I’m expecting at least a dinner after almost getting shot for you.” You teased, bumping his shoulder with yours.

“That’s so not funny,” Spencer replied, but he was smiling when he said it.

“It’s a little bit funny.”

“Fine,” Spencer agreed, stopping in his tracks and pulling you towards him, “it’s a little bit funny.”

And that’s when he pulled you in, cupping your face with his hands and pressing his lips to yours. Just like that, the weariness of the day melted away, disappearing into a kiss that tasted like burnt coffee and sugar and the best champagne you’d ever had. Spencer was strong and sure. He kissed you like it was the only chance he’d ever get, like he wanted to burn the memory of you into that brilliant mind of his forever. When you broke apart it felt like the earth had shifted beneath you and you stared at one another, breathless and smiling like teenagers caught making out beneath the bleachers.

“Oh yeah,” you laughed, “yeah you definitely owe me dinner.”

“Woohoo!” Morgan cheered.

“Ooooo, Y/N and Reid sitting in a tree,” Prentiss sang, “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

“Go get ‘em, Lover Boy,” Garcia joined in.

Spencer laughed, letting his head fall down onto your shoulder, humming when you threaded your finger through his hair.

“Can we-um-can we maybe continue this at a later date?” Spencer asked, “Like maybe at dinner? Or,” he checked his watch, “breakfast, maybe?”

You looked back at Spencer’s team and felt, with a sudden rush of clarity, that you were looking at a group of people who would soon be staples of your life.

“Let’s go get coffee with the others,” you answered, “and then after that,” you tilted his head up and kissed him softly, “you can take me to breakfast.”

taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​ 

[sabraeal]

Sic Semper Monstrum, Chapter 6

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2021, Day 2: Death Upright: Change, Ending, Release Reversed: Refusal to Change, Unfulfillment, Stagnation

A seam strains along a well-worn shoulder, so stretched he can actually hear it creak over the din of the canteen. That clinches is: that asshole’s got to be picking out too-small fatigues from the GI bin.

There’s no other way for him to look like that, biceps testing the tensile strength of cotton every time he takes a sip of his coffee. Sure, this guy’s jacked the way all the active rangers are, ready to heave 750 tons of metal onto their backs at a moment’s notice, but he’s not Mitsuhide. It makes sense when he pops buttons off his coverall, or stretches out one of their dingy cotton tees. But that’s not this asshole.

He’s lean, the kind that telegraphs that taking an elbow from him might be career limiting. There’s no reason the general issue tee should cling to his back like it’s painted on, his coverall hanging off his hips like he’s got an occupation other than freeloading. Shirayuki leans over, fingertips brushing over his sleeve with a laugh--

“Just punch him already,” Kiki drawls, “get it out of your system.”

Zen blinks, suddenly aware there’s still some Taco Tuesday left in his mouth. “What?”

“Kiki.” Dark bruises circle the skin beneath Mitsuhide’s eyes, underscoring the weary strain in his voices. “We shouldn’t be encouraging that sort of behavior.”

“Why not?” Her elbows dig into formica as she leans over her plate, shoveling rice into her mouth. At her father’s table, Kiki knows the use of every spoon, the name of every fork, but this deep in the dome, Ranger Seiran’s never met a meal she can’t inhale in five minutes flat. “I did it.”

Air hisses right through his perfect teeth, the only sign he’s annoyed besides the tense bar of his shoulders. “And you’re lucky you didn’t get caught.”

Kiki hums around the lip of her mug. “You mean like you did with Lugis?”

Mitsuhide doesn’t have skin like his, the sort that flares up like flash paper at the barest hint of sun or taunting. But still his neck flushes red as a burn, so bright Zen’s half tempted to slap it, just so he knows what it’s like.

“T-that was an accident,” he insists, even as his mouth settles into a satisfied smile. “Even the inquiry said so.”

It’s a struggle to keep his own from curling at the edges. “Only because Lugis didn’t want to press charges.”

“Only because he didn’t want it getting out that a girl ran circles around him on the mat,” Kiki corrects, each word a scalpel’s slice, excising those particulars from that shitshow with surgical precision. They can talk about this; Lugis’s challenge and the way Kiki swept him; that he was hardly on his feet when Mitsuhide somehow mislaid his fist and found it in his face, but everything else, the whys of it--

Those are all off the record. Forever. Or at least they would be, if Lugis wasn’t crawling through the dome like a stoat that’s caught whiff of an egg.

But that’s not what this is about. “And you want me to do that with that asshole?” Zen mutters. “Since it made Mitsuhide such good friends with Lugis, after all.”

“Obi isn’t Hisame,” Kiki informs him with the kind of steel in her tone that suggests she won’t be taking critique on that particular assessment. “All your issues with him are external.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snaps, teeth gritting down.

It’s a mistake, a rookie one at that: never ask a Seiran a question you don’t want the answer to. “He’s got Shirayuki’s attention and you don’t.”

Mitsuhide clears his throat, shoulders set like Zen better plan to shelter in place. This particular storm isn’t about to hit its usual conversational breakwall. “Attention you’d have, if you hadn’t skipped out on your session.”

Zen grips the table to take that hit. But it’s not nearly the last; the stare Kiki turns to him is wide-eyed, half-betrayed. “You didn’t say anything about that.”

“It’s none of your business.” Even as the words fly from him, he knows it’s not fair, that he’s spitting nails into the wind so that they’ll hurt someone else instead of him. It doesn’t stop him, it never does, but a guilty knot settles in his gut. “The sessions are voluntary. They always have been. I don’t need--”

“Someone to keep your head on straight?” Every syllable snaps like ice, her eyes twice as cold. “That was the whole point, wasn’t it? So if something happens to us, you’d have--”

He can’t listen to this, not another word. “That was never the plan! I would never plan for you guys...”

Not coming back. For Redwood Dancer to be left a ruin on the sea floor, their bodies strapped in, hermetically sealed until the ocean wore the jaeger down to parts.

“Nothing is happening to you guys,” he grits out. “Shirayuki was always an addition, not a-- a replacement, because you’ll never--”

“No one can promise that.” Mitsuhide’s never one to throw a first punch, but oh, does he know how to end a fight. All the breath’s knocked clean out of him, and there’s Dancer’s right hand, shoveling down another bite of rice like it’s nothing. “Every time we go out there it’s a flip of a coin. It doesn’t matter how good we are, one day there’s going to be a kaiju that kicks us clean off our feet.”

He shakes his head, wishing the words would fall right out of them. “No. That’s not--”

“Zen.” He’s never heard a siren’s call, but it can’t be as inexorable as Mitsuhide saying his name in that tone, both firm and pitying and mournful all at once. “You know better than anyone. Rangers don’t grow old.”

There’s no thought when he levers himself up from the table, just up with away chasing its heels. He just can’t be here listening to this, not now, not after they just barely crawled home from another kaiju clawing its way across Korea’s shoreline. Not when he knows he should be fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with them-- that he would be if they stopped trying to saddle him with every rookie that rolled out of the simulator and finally put him with the only person that could fill that brace beside him.

“Zen!”

It’s easy to ignore Mitsuhide’s shout over the dinner rush; it’s just part of the noise, a buzz at the edge of his senses. Something to goad him, to push him out of there before either of them think to follow after. Their pity’s the last thing he needs, the last thing he wants. After all, it’s not him that won’t climb in the Conn-Pod, but his--

“Boss!”

Zen blinks, the empty corridor resolving around him. He’d let his feet carry him, their only imperative away-- and now he’s all turned around, every bulkhead the same. He’s heard about this happening to rangers when they lived in the dome too long; chasing the Minotaur, a ranger called it, three drinks down at the local hangar. And no fine little princess to give you string to find your way out.

Except he did have one of those. A person to help him through the labyrinth, even if she couldn’t show him the way. He’d been avoiding her.

That seems stupid now. It’s not like she’s on that asshole’s--

“Hey! Hey, boss.”

Speak of the devil. Zen turns, and there he is, too-tight t-shirt and all: his own personal problem. “What do you want?”

“Nothing.” He holds out his hands, as if that’s proof enough to clear him of ulterior motives. “I just...saw you head out and it looked like...”

Zen’s shoulders square, body braced like they’re back on the mat. “Looked like what?”

Obi’s breath rushes out of him. “It looked like you shouldn’t be alone.”

It’s not until he lifts his hand that he realizes it’s trembling, barely able to push his bangs back where he needs them. “Yeah? And you thought-- what? I’d want to see you?” Even to his own ears, his laugh is bitter, wrong, like it came from someone else’s mouth. “You, the guy who won’t get out of my way?”

Something ripples across this asshole’s face, too fast for him to catch more than its wake. “You think I’m the stick stuck in the mud here?” When those strange cat’s eyes stare at him, it’s out of placid waters, but that grin on his face-- it doesn’t reach them. “Rock, meet hard place.”

Zen’s hands clench, so hard his knuckles creak. “You think this is a joke? You’re trying to shove your ass in a seat that isn’t for you, and you--”

“You think I want to be out there?” He lets out a bark somewhere between pitying and derisive, arms folding over his chest. Zen takes special care not to check how stressed his seams are. “I did my time, Your Highness. I got out. I got told no one would ever look for me again.”

“Then why are you here?” Zen spits. “No one wants you.”

“You don’t know how true I wish that was.” A hand pulls at his shoulder, long fingers digging in around the blade. “But your brother dragged me down the coast because I’m not done. I’ll never be done, because I can’t sit on the sidelines and watch Snotju or Head Banger or whatever cosmic asshole crawls out of the rift wreck another wall.”

His hand lifts, scrubbing through the bristle of his hair, just a shade too shaggy to be regulation. “It’s fucked up, isn’t it, Master? I’m the one who doesn’t want to be here, but I’m the one who’s got the balls to get back in that jaeger. And you--” a cold gaze rakes over him-- “you’re content to sit there and watch the world burn just because I’m not--”

“Shut up.” He’s trembling, every muscle straining against his self-control. “Shut the fuck up. You don’t know a goddamn thing--”

“I’ve been in your head,” that asshole reminds him. “I know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“You don’t.” He can’t. “You don’t fucking know a thing about me.”

He cocks a hip, grin loaded like a bullet. “The prove it.”

Kiki’s right: in the instant where his knuckles hit that cut-glass cheekbone, Zen feels great.

Shirayuki’s office has always put him at ease; he stepped in here the first time before she’d even properly covered the walls, the tension seeping right out of him into the push carpet under his boots. There’s just something about how she fills a space-- something that has nothing to do with furniture or wall hangings or motivational posters-- that makes his brain put out whatever chemical that means safe. He’d never understood why the other rangers avoided her, not when they could have forty minutes in the room equivalent of a warm hug.

But it’s different this time.

“Izana made you call me here.” He’s ramrod straight on her worn couch, hands clenched in his lap. Or rather, right over the throw pillow he moved to sit. “Didn’t he?”

“The Marshal’s personal feelings have nothing to do with this.” Her words snap like a window on a sill, closing on that topic with a sense of finality he expected from the top brass, not their therapist. “The PPDC’s code of conduct is quite clear on the procedure to be followed after a non-sanctioned physical altercation between personnel.”

There’s a loose thread right by the fringe; he’d noticed it months ago, but never dared to tug it. Every time he’d felt the urge, he’d think of dominoes and load-bearing pillars, of the whole edge unraveling in his hands right as she looked at him.

Today, he pulls. It comes right off with a snap. “And that’s the only reason you brought me in?“

Shirayuki turns to him, one incredulous brow raised. “You were the one who cancelled our last session--” her mouth twitches as she twists the knife-- “last minute.”

Well, he deserves that one. Sure, he’s had his reasons, but Shirayuki-- well, she deserved more than one step up from ghosting. If the thought of having to look anyone in the eye after all that hadn’t made his stomach turn for three days, maybe he would have come to that conclusion before Kiki ripped him a new one over it.

“Sorry about that,” he mutters, aware with every word that it’s not enough, that there’s not enough apologies to patch up the trust he broke. “I wasn’t...ready to talk.”

He expects the clap back; yeah I got the message, or but you were ready to take a swing? But he should have known: that’s not how Shirayuki works. She’s a professional, whether that’s what he wants from her or not.

Instead he face softens, right back into his friend. “I know. What happened in the drift can be...intense.” She hesitates, teeth sinking into the plush bow of her lip. “I just wish that you had felt comfortable conveying that to me. As my patient, you’re supposed to be able to control--”

“I don’t want to be your patient.”

Her mouth closes with a grunt, hand pressed to her stomach as if he hit her. “O-oh,” she murmurs, breathless. “I hadn’t realized that you, ah, wanted to terminate our sessions--”

“No!” God, it would be nice to be able to say this all smooth like he’s sure that jacked asshole can, leaning against a wall with his hand right by her head, sexual tension rocking the Richter scale. “I just meant--” his teeth try to grind down his thoughts into something palatable-- “Shirayuki, I don’t want to just be your patient.”

He could fall into her eyes they’re so wide, rounded ‘o’s that match her mouth’s geometry. “Ah, Zen, that’s...”

“I don’t mean because I-I like you.” Even though he does, but there’s rules for that. The kind the PPDC will look the other way on, but not Shirayuki. She’s not from under the dome; she still worries about what people might think outside of it. “I just...wish you were on my side.”

“I am on your side.” Her shoulders pull straight against the back of her chair, her soft look hardening into resolve. “Which is different from telling you want you want to hear.”

He jerks back, cheeks stinging like he’d been slapped. “I didn’t say I wanted that,” he mumbles, hands clenching over his lap. “But I don’t need you to tell me to do whatever it is Izana wants me to either.”

“I wasn’t going to.” The notebooks in her lap closes with a snap, and with trembling fingers, she sets aside her shield. “Izana wants you back in a jeager for the legacy. For the unbroken line of Wisterias standing between humanity and the rift. But I...”

Her eyes lift to his, and they’re no longer the lush, leafy green of a forest, but the hard glint of emerald. “If you get back in that cockpit, you need to do it for yourself.”

It’s an effort not to say, I don’t see the difference.

“I saw you when the siren went off.”

Zen scrubs a hand over his face; he remembers. Their eyes had met over that seething mass of fear and competence, and-- and he’d been so sure that if he saw her, something more than that glimpse of red in the corner of his vision, he’d forget every inch of his resolve and go to her. That he’d just take her in his arms and tell her all the thoughts roiling in the sea of his mind, but--

But he hadn’t. He’s taken one look at her and, without even a pang of guilt, left her there. A real hero.

“Zen.” She says his name so firmly, so seriously, that his head jerks up, gaze tangling with hers. “You don’t want to be on the sidelines. You don’t want to be the general hiding being his troops. You want to be out there, Rex Tyrannis shoulder-to-shoulder with Redwood Dancer. And you could be.”

It’s his breath that’s rasping, the death rattle of the man he’s let himself be these past few years. “How?”

There’s not an ounce of hesitation in her when she says. “You have to choose to move forward.”

And cozy up in the cockpit with that asshole. He thinks about that grin, cocked with a confidence he’s never been in the neighborhood of having, and...

It’s so familiar that his double vision makes his head pound. “I can’t work with that-- Obi. I won’t.”

“I know that...” Her lips press together, bursting apart with a pop. “I know there’s no limit to the amount of people a ranger could potentially drift with, but there’s something...special when you find the right one. That there’s something right about it than can’t ever be replaced.”

He stares, head galloping in his chest. She shouldn’t know that-- there’s no way she could. Most rookies out of the academy just drift successfully once, and that’s it-- that’s their partner, for better or worse, like marrying the first kid you kiss. There’s exceptions-- emergencies, injury, irreconcilable differences-- but even though this job has a high turnover...rangers rarely die alone. There’s not enough people for a paper.

“Yeah, I’ve...heard that too.” Probably from the same mouth she did, though it seems Mitsuhide’s polished the speech since he last gave it. To him, at least.

“I understand that you have a vision of who you want beside you in the pod,” Shirayuki presses, voice growing tighter, more tense with every word. “But Atri’s gone.”

Every drop of blood in him turns to ice. “Atri?”

Her breath hisses out through her teeth, relief slumping her shoulders. “I know no one can be him, but--”

“You think this is about Atri?” A giggle bubbles up from him, bitter on his tongue. “I’ve been sitting here for weeks-- no, months! And you think all this, the whole reason I won’t climb in a jaeger with just anyone off the street is because of Atri?”

Every corner of her face lost. “Isn’t it?”

“No, I...” He pinches the bridge of his nose, like it might stem the pounding of his heart behind his brow. This whole time he’d been so careful, trying to be understood for once, to let someone see him instead of his mistakes--

But he should have known; as long as his brother is obsessed with sending him an endless parade of nobodies which he sits behind a desk, it’ll only be his hang ups hung out for everyone to rifle through.

“I should go,” he finally manages, levering himself to his feet. The room spins, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears, but he can’t stay here, not when she thinks-- when she’s always thought--

“Zen,” she murmurs, voice muffled by distance. “Are you all right?”

--That he’s pathetic. “Yeah.” He stumbles to the door, swinging it open. “I just need to--”

And of course, standing right there is that asshole, hand half-raised to knock.

“Boss,” he breathes, clearly stunned. “I, uh, didn’t think you’d be...”

The awkwardness in the office is palpable, so thick that he might as well be moving through molasses. Before this guy showed up, he’d though he had half a chance; he was practically the only one outside of K-Science that would even look at her, and his sessions always felt like more, but now--

Well, it’s no wonder he didn’t stand half a chance next to him, if she thought he was waiting for Atri.

“Don’t worry about it.” Zen pushes back him, shoulder clipping his. Or at least near enough to claim the feat. “I’d hate to keep you two from your--” date-- “dinner plans.”

Shirayuki’s breath gasps from her. “Zen, wait, we’re not--”

“It’s fine,” he lies, every muscle tense where he stands, fighting the urge to look back. “A couple of things are clearer now.”

It’s not just her. They all think he’s waiting for him, that one day he might stroll back in here like nothing happened, and Zen--

“Please.” Shirayuki’s voice trembles, and even if he’s not looking, he knows she’s at the door, vibrating in its frame. “Let’s just finish the session.”

-- and Zen’s been giving them nothing else to work with. All these years, looking like a kid stood up on prom night.

“No, I just remembered there’s something I’ve got to do.” He forces a smile on his face, giving her a bare hint of it as he peeks over his shoulder. “I’ll see you next week.”

It kills him how much hope lights in her eyes. “Next week?”

“That our appointment, isn’t it?” he says, light tone limping. “Unless I see you around the dome before then.”

“Right,” she breathes, cheeks flushed at both corners of her smile. Obi’s watching her, concern writ large in his eyes, and well-- maybe he’s not as much of an asshole as Zen wanted to believe. “Until then.”

He gets halfway down the hall, before Obi calls out, “Hey, boss...”

It’s clear when he looks back that Obi hadn’t meant to speak, but now that he has, he clear his throat, giving himself a visible shake.

“You could come with us,” he says, hesitant. “If you wanted.”

It’s an olive branch, one he doesn’t deserve. One he should take, if he wants all this to heal over without a scar. But he’s not ready for that, not yet.

“No.” He shakes head. “I wasn’t joking about having something I got to do. Go enjoy yourselves.”

This is a terrible idea.

He knows it the entire time he’s walking, the anxiety cresting the second he sees the plate on the door, engraved and letters painted black: IZANA WISTERIA. MARSHAL.

“Well,” Izana hums from his desk. “Are you going pace outside my office all day, or are you planning to come in?”

Zen lets out a rush of breath and pushes the door open the rest of the way.

“You win,” he says, all in a rush. “I’ll do it. I’ll give him another chance.”

“I think at this point, he’s giving you another chance,” Izana tells him, barely glancing up from his pile of papers. “But...I’ll arrange it.”

He nearly says, I figured you’d have it all arranged already, but bites it back. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure. And Zen.” His brother looks up, capping his pen calmly before he folds his hands over the desk. “It’s not me who wins. It’s humanity.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, meeting that steely gaze. “But I’m not doing it for them.”

For once, his brother doesn’t have anything to say.

It’s Obi who’s locked in first this time.

His cheeky smile is already waiting when Zen steps on deck, body gripped by Rex Tyrannis’s hydraulics when he throws him a wink. “Second time’s the charm, right Your Highness?”

“Third time,” Zen mutters, keying in his code. “It’s third time’s the charm.”

“Right, but you were top of your class.” A guy like Obi shouldn’t be so comfortable when he’s got twenty tons pinning him in place, not when he’s got a face just asking to be hit. “So we can shave one of those off, right?”

“Depends.” His mouth twitches. “Where did you rank?”

Obi’s grin grows stiff enough to float. “I think you’d say I’m a natural talent.”

“That bad huh?”

A laugh saws out of him, raw in the loud silence of the pod. “You have no idea.”

“I think I could take a guess.” The hydraulics hug Zen tight; even lifting to his arm to the panel is a chore. “Ready?”

“For you?” Obi’s mouth stretches into a leer.  For once, he feels like he’s in on the joke. “Any time.”

Don’t chase the rabbit. It’s Obi’s voice that says it; not the way he had before, serious and concerned, a scolding and a reminder. No, this one is a laugh restrained, sing-song. One pill makes you big and one makes you small.

There’s a faint riff of guitar, and Zen’s about to tell him to can it, that putting trash in the drift just clogged up the flow, but--

But between one breath-- one blink and the next, he’s lost in the tide, rolling through his memories rudderless. When a hand grips his shoulder and--

“I’m ready.” Zen’s always too honest, too eager but he’s young here, younger than he ever remembers being wearing the badge. “To pick up the legacy. To be what father meant us to be.”

The memory runs true, his younger self still chatting away with Shidnote, unaware that his whole world’s about to be cut off at the knees. But he’s not watching that now, he’s watching the way shadows crawl across his brother’s face, a storm front that appears and vanishes in the moments no one looks.

“About that.” Izana settles his hand on the desk, but the drumming is no longer bored but...nervous. An asynchronous beat that runs at the speed of his thoughts. “I meant to tell you. I’m being promoted.”

“Promoted” The word still kicks his legs out from under him, still knocks the wind out of his lungs as efficiently as any punch to the gut. “But I thought we would--”

“They want me in a command capacity now that Mother’s taking over Anchorage.” Izana won’t look at him. The man who has built his career on being able to stare down Orochi in Sagami Bay can’t bear to look him in the eye. “I’m being taken off active duty.”

“But--” He looks between them. “But--”

“But--”

“But--”

The memory stutters. It’s him, he’s the one who’s pushing away. He’d always thought he couldn’t give this to someone, to some guy right off the street, someone who might pity him, but it’s-- it’s him. He can’t look at this. He can’t face failure another time.

And he doesn’t know how to stop.

Hey. Obi’s voice is too close, but he’s just an outline in the drift, blues and grays fuzzing between misfiring synapses. Hey, we don’t have to watch this.

They do. They have to, if he’s going to get through this.

Right. There’s no way for Obi to sigh here, where there’s no air, but he does, long and loud. It sounds...different. Almost...feminine. I have worse. Want to see me wet the bed when I was--?

The words fuzz before they can continue. Go ahead, Obi says, sounding like himself. Take as much time as you need. It’s not like we have clocks here.

Zen can’t nod here, not without a body, but he breathes, one solid in and out--

“It’s supposed to be us.” Even with the distance of time, every word is carves straight from his flesh, laid out on a platter for his brother to see. “We’re supposed to carry on the legacy.”

“Shidnote will continue on in his current capacity,” Izana explains, bored, as if he didn’t even speak. “He’s served me well. I’m sure you’ll both be sufficiently compatible.”

“But--” Zen grits his teeth. “It’s supposed to be us. Why are you giving me an excuse--?

He blinks. He never said that. He’d been thinking it the whole way to his bunk, but in the moment it had only been a yes sir. I understand, sir.

Then why--

“It’s an excuse.” The shine’s all worn off Atri’s grin, baring the raw edge beneath. “That’s all I’ve ever been to you.”

Scrap litters the floor at his feet; he’s never known what jaeger-grade parts sold for on the black market, but he knows it’s not pocket money. This is a small fortune if someone knew where to sell it.

Which clearly Atri does.

“You’re going to blame me?” Zen’s laugh limps with bitterness. “I catch you with stolen goods, and it’s my--?”

“It’s not stolen, it’s salvage,” Atri snaps, snatching a length of steel from his hands. “It’s not like they’re using it.”

A lie-- there’s not a shred of steel or wire that’s wasted in the dome. Jaegars come with a price tag that only governments can pay, and any corner that can be safely cut on maintenance is considered savings passed onto tax payers. There’s no way he can’t know it, not after six months, but--

He doesn’t care. He never did.

“This is why you agreed to be my copilot.” Every word aches as he births them from his lips, a truth that cuts even as he speaks it. “You didn’t care about protecting your friends. You just wanted access to parts.”

Atri shrugs, the barest twitch of his shoulders. “I never said I gave a single fuck about all that hero shit. You just assumed I did, because you do.”

“But the drift...” His breath wheezes, the way it did when he was a kid, before his dad paid for all that to be fixed. “How did you...?”

“I just thought about the stuff you cared about. Friends. Kaiju. Me.” Atri’s grin turns smug. “Some of us don’t wear our heart on our sleeves, Wisteria.”

Wow. Obi’s outline fuzzes as he circles behind Atri, a single brow raised. He’s a real fucknut, huh?

His memories are jumbles, him-now and him-then all tumbled together until his first instinct is to jump to Atri’s defense. He may not be an academy-trained ranger, someone who has a lifetime worth of experience in a simulator, but put him in Rex Tyrannis and he’ll--

Steal the toilet cover? Obi offers, mouth canting into that insufferable grin. The one that always reminded him of--

Ah.

Obi darts a glance to where Atri stands frozen beside him. Jeeze, you really know how to hit a guy where he lives. You think I look like this asshole?

Just the grin, really. He’s almost a head taller, broader in the shoulders, and Asian besides. Better looking too--

Obi’s smile stretches into a leer. You don’t say, bossman?

Maybe Atri’s right. He’s got to get better about what he thinks about in the drift. Especially with someone this insufferable around.

If anything, Obi’s more amused. So it’s this guy though, he’s whole hold up you have with me? It’s not--

Against his will, Atri springs to life, mouth curled into his nastiest sneer when he says “I don’t know why you’re acting so betrayed. After all, you only wanted me to get back at the Marshal, and I played my part, didn’t I? I’m sure he’d jump in the pod if that meant he could be rid of me.”

“That’s not--” true, he should say. He can’t though, not when he’s not this-Zen, when he’s just looking out from his eyes, straight into Obi’s.

“Yeah.” There’s no spit to swallow in the drift, but he does anyway, a force of habit. “It is.”

The memory fuzzes away from him, and it’s just them now, two men braced in the Conn-pod, staring at each other through their visors.

“Right hemisphere, calibrated.” Zen blinks, watching as his hand opens and closes, the robotic voice’s dulcet tones washing over him.

“I never wanted this, you know,” he murmurs, “not if it wasn’t with my brother. That’s how it was supposed to be, me and him versus the kaiju.”

“Left hemisphere, calibrated.” His arms seem to move on his own, and it’s strange how he can’t keep the smile off his face this time. It feels good, moving like this again.

“No,” he breathes. “It was supposed to be me and him versus the world.”

“Ready to activate the jeager.“

Obi’s arms lift, a fighting stance to mirror his. It’s easy, so easy. Easier than he ever thought it could be. “What changed?”

He’d shrug, if the hydraulics would let him, but this isn’t Redwood Dancer. “Seemed like a shitty reason not to save the world.”

“Calibration complete.”

Obi grins, teeth shining bright under the lights of his visor. “Doc tell you that?”

Zen laughs. “Pretty much.”

“She’s got a gift,” Obi agrees, hands moving in sync with his. “And it’s making you feel like an asshole.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Looks like you jokers are getting along,” Kiki deadpans through their helmets. “How do you feel about taking Rex out for a drag?”

“After being cramped under this dome for months, Princess?” Obi drawls, tossing him a conspiratorial wink. “It’d be my pleasure.”

“Just give us a sec!” It’s been a long time since Zen’s talked much with the crew in CIC, but he recognizes that voice-- Yuzuri, one of Shirayuki’s friends. The peppy one with the cute accessories. The one that told him she’d give him cement shoes if he made her cry. “Let’s see if we can get you off your leash.”

He’d always liked her. Hopefully the feeling’s mutual, since she’s right next to the plug.

“Hey, boss.”

Zen blinks, glancing across the cockpit. “Yeah?”

“I know Atri was supposed to be a big fuck you to His Majesty, but...” He hesitates, thoughtful. “You drifted with the Big Guy for a while after that. Why?”

“Ah--”

It’s impossible not to think of it, the siren rising in the air, the men running past them, voices drowned out by the drone.

“I’ll do it,” he says, glaring up at the man across from him. “At least you know you’re just a seat warmer.”

“Zen--”

He blinks, the memory stuttering beneath him. That’s not what Mitsuhide called him then, that wasn’t until after--

“Zen.”

That’s not inside the memory, that’s inside his helmet. “Mitsuhide?”

“You’re out of alignment.”

He shakes his head, uncomprehending. “What do you--?”

“You’re out of alignment.” He repeats, each words strained. “You both chased the rabbit, and...Obi went straight down the rabbit hole.”

It doesn’t make any sense. “But I--”

“You have to go get him,” Mitsuhide says, dire. “He’s pointing the plasma cannon at Mission Control.”

[kerosene-insomniac]

To Be So Lonely

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku

Warnings: Strong language, sexually explicit smut, violence, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, cancer sub-plot, major character death {not bakudeku}

Word Count for Chapter: 2,791

Summary: Midoriya Izuku has always wanted to be a musician. Something about the lyric working with a melody to convey his feeling just made his heart race. After his father died when he was three, Izuku has always relied on his mother. She worked two jobs to care for him and always supported his dreams. But when his mother is diagnosed with breast cancer just after he graduated high school, Izuku has to shift his focus. Now he’s working two jobs and takes care of his mother with the help of his gay neighbors. 

In an attempt to learn self-defense, Izuku takes a few classes at a local gym. It’s there that he meets Toshinori Yagi, an older beta who used to be a professional heavyweight boxer. Yagi notices Izuku’s potential and encourages the small omega to eventually go pro. So, in order to make more money, Izuku eventually agrees.

Bakugou Katsuki has only ever wanted to fight. Orphaned as the young age of four, Katsuki has been fighting to live for his entire life. Fighting is all he’s ever known. After fighting underground for a couple years, Katsuki is noticed by Todoroki Enji. The older alpha takes him in at 19 and names him the official successor of his legacy (especially since all of his actual kids hate him). 

Now, Katsuki is 25-years-old and the professional heavyweight champion.In a whirlwind of events, Katsuki meets Izuku in the unlikeliest of places. He watches the small omega perform and can’t help it feel extremely protective and absolutely enamored with him. The older alpha gets to meet him and say goodbye without even learning the omega’s name. Katsuki isn’t sure that they’ll ever meet again.

 That is, until Katsuki officially meets Izuku at a professional lunch with his manager’s rival.

{OR}

The one where Katsuki is a professional alpha boxer with arrogance issues and Izuku is a stubborn omega that’s way little too reckless with his well-being. With a wacky cast of characters (including three idiots, a manly best friend, a traumatized bastard with daddy-issues, and many more) absolutely hell-bent on getting them together, neither men can seem to catch a break

***

———- Continue Reading ————-

{0.1} Sweet Like Honey

“There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.”

― Laurell K. Hamilton

K A T S U K I

“C’mon, Bakubro! Smile a little!”

Katsuki scowled even more as Kirishima dragged him towards the run-down bar. On some level, he wants to be here and have fun with his friends. On another, however, he knows that he’ll have to deal with a hangover tomorrow.

And fuck that.

The shitty bar smells vaguely of coffee and beer, as well as a mix of pheromones. It has a decent amount of people inside, but not enough to feel overwhelming.

“How did Pikachu find this shitty place?”

Kirishima gave him a look, as if he was a scolding parent. “His boyfriend actually did. It has live music and decent alcohol.”

Katsuki huffed, pulling his hood over his hair. “Who the fuck would want to court Pikachu? He’s annoyingly dumb.”

“Well, not everyone thinks that.”

Before Katsuki can argue, sweet-smelling arms wrapped around his neck.

“Blasty!! You made it!” Mina screeched, already smelling of red wine.

Katsuki growled, immediately pushing the omega off of him and towards her alpha. Kirishima caught her easily. “Don’t touch me, Raccoon Eyes! Ever hear of personal space?!”

Mina giggled, whispering loudly into Kirishima’s ear. “He’s so grumpy already.”

“I know. It’s pretty funny.”

Katsuki bristled, baring his teeth. “Fuck off, Shitty Hair!”

Kirishima chuckled, ignoring Katsuki directing them further inside. Closer to the bar was Kaminari and a purple-haired beta who obviously didn’t get enough sleep the night before.

The audacity.

Kaminari glanced their way, his face lighting up. “Bakugou! It’s nice to see that Kirishima-“

“Shut it, Dunce Face.” Katsuki grumbled lowly. “I’m just here to babysit you idiots.”

Denki shrugged, taking a shot of something that smelled suspiciously like Fireball. “Whatever you say, Bakugou. Hitoshi is already our babysitter for the night.”

The purple-haired beta blinked in Katsuki’s direction, taking a sip of his water bottle. He looked like he was silently analyzing and judging Katsuki, which immediately made the older alpha bristle.

“Calm down, Blasty.” Mina snickered, leaning against Kirishima. “You scowl too much.”

Katsuki scowled even more, watching as everyone ordered drinks.

Kirishima glanced at him, offering a sympathetic smile. “Just chill, Bakubro. Shinsou says the live music is really good!”

That’s unlikely.

“I know the performer.” Shinsou murmured, still studying Katsuki. “He’s a childhood friend.”

Katsuki ignored the insomniac troll doll and took a seat next to Kirishima. “This better be good, Shitty Hair. You know how I feel about music.”

Kirishima nodded, accepting his drink from the bartender. “Well, Jiro also speaks highly of the dude. She’s as serious about music as you are, so I’m sure he’s pretty great.”

That’s a little reassuring.

Before Katsuki could speak again, a small voice came from the stage.

And god, Katsuki’s interest immediately heightened.

A small man climbed onto a stool with a guitar in his hands. He had dazzling green eyes and a head of green curls that made him look soft. He was wearing a grey hoodie with ripped skinny jeans, making him look even cuter.

And the freckles.

Katsuki took a deep breath, immediately freezing as omegan pheromones washed over the small bar.

Chocolate and cherries.

He’s so screwed.

“Our first request of the night is called ‘Save Yourself’.” The omega murmured, his voice sweet as honey.

The small omega started strumming a dingy guitar, making it look effortless. But Katsuki knew better than to assume.

It weighs heavier on one's heart

I could tell right from the start that sweet ones are hard to come across

Well there is more than meets the eye

A heart like yours is rare to find

Someone else's gain will be my loss

“Holy shit…”

For once, Katsuki could agree with Pikachu.

Shinsou chuckled lowly, earning glances from everyone else. “I’m glad that you think he’s good. I’ve tried telling him that, but he never wants to hear it.”

“He’s adorable!” Mina squealed, almost a little too loudly.

Katsuki gave her glare, which didn’t go unnoticed by Kirishima. In fact, the red-haired alpha grinned and followed Katsuki’s gaze.

Woah, woah, oh oh

Oh woah, woah

Woah woah oh

Hey hey

Well little things that make you smile

Dancing barefoot in the dark

If only I had strength to change your mind

Oh for what you need

You will not see

Choose your words before you speak

Can you see that all you've got is time?

Katsuki couldn’t fucking breathe.

The small omega sounded soft and sure, obviously confident and lost in the song. A stray curl rested on his forehead, moving as he strummed the guitar.

Whatever it was about him, Katsuki couldn’t look away.

Woah now

Save yourself

Oh you save yourself

Oh darling save yourself for someone else

Yeah, save yourself

Oh darling save yourself

Oh won't you save yourself from someone else

Woah

Don't give in to their feelings

Don't give in darkness and faith

You should be safe, yeah, with someone else

Tell your secrets to the night

You do yours and I do mine

So we won't have to keep them all inside

Oh, for one so pure

Count these off

Let your feelings take control

Hold on to the world that he's begging for

“What’s his name?”

Shinsou looked at Kirishima, almost as if he was bored. “He’s not comfortable with me telling people. He’s a very private person.”

Mina pouted, whining slightly. “But he’s so good! Wouldn’t he want people to know his name?”

“He’s going through a lot right now.”

Katsuki glanced at Shinsou, immediately meeting the beta’s gaze. “For once, I agree with Raccoon Eyes. Private or not, he’s obviously good enough to go somewhere with a voice like that.”

The beta raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware that you complimented people, Bakugou. Not everyone is a cocky boxer with arrogance issues.”

Ex-fucking-cuse me?

“At least I know how to fight, you knock-off troll doll!”

Shinsou blinked, obviously unaffected by Katsuki’s words. “Just because you’re a professional boxer doesn’t mean shit, Bakugou. If I remember correctly, you were underground once.”

Katsuki glared, scowling harshly. “Underground?”

“He’s an underground boxer, Bakubro,” Kirishima murmured, looking amused with the whole interaction. “He’s pretty good.”

Whatever.

Katsuki focused on the musician again, obviously pouting.

Woah now

Save yourself

Oh won't you save yourself

Go on and save yourself for someone else

Yes darling save yourself

Oh won't you save yourself

Go on and save yourself for someone else

Woah are you going to break?

Are you going to break?

Woah aren't you going to take me?

Yeah are you going to break?

Are you going to break?

Are you going to break?

Woah what's it going to take?

Yeah, are you going to break?

Are you going to break?

Are you going to break?

Are you going to break?

The small omega strummed the last few notes, his voice cracking slightly as the last lyrics finished. He shyly smiled at the crowd, using his bandaged hand to brush his curls out of his face.

Wait.

Bandages?

Katsuki watched with narrowed eyes as the small omega talked with the crowd, obviously trying to take more requests. Something about him was off and it made the alpha slightly suspicious.

Why does he look like that?

I Z U K U

“-and thank you for coming out! Goodnight!”

Izuku waved at the crowd as he exited the stage, his heart in his throat at the small amount of applause. His guitar felt heavy in his small hands, matching his equally heavy shoulders.

Music doesn’t have the same relief it used to.

The small omega chewed on his bottom lip anxiously as he placed his ratty guitar in it’s case. Izuku had saved up two summers worth of money to buy it, so he definitely felt more attached to it than most.

“Here’s your tips, Midoriya.”

Izuku snapped out of his daze as the female omega handed him the money, his pretty green eyes looking a bit grey. “Thanks, Jiro. I really appreciate this.”

Jiro smiled warmly, her dark eyes completely gentle as she watched him place the cash in his case. “It’s no problem, Midoriya. Tell your mom and the dads that I said hi!”

“I will!”

Izuku waved goodbye and made his way towards the exit. Hitoshi normally waited backstage to take him home, but he’s currently on a date with someone. It wasn’t like Izuku was afraid, but walking alone at night did give him some anxiety.

After all, Izuku is an omega.

In their current society, it was extremely easy for omegas to be victimized. They were completely at the mercy of outside forces, which caused a lot of weaknesses. Dominant pheromones from an alpha could completely shut them down and make them vulnerable to orders.

Alphas didn’t lack in strength like many omegas did, so they could easily overpower anyone slightly weaker than them.

While alphas experienced ruts or periods of extreme arousal, that was nothing on omegas. Omegas experience heats every month, which was a mess of fevers and the need to be knotted.

Ruts could easily be controlled and ignored.

Heats were the opposite.

If an omega was to go into heat while in public, that left them at the mercy of any alpha nearby. An alpha could take what they want, regardless of consent, and not be held liable.

So, yes.

Walking alone made Izuku slightly nervous.

As Izuku walked down the dimly-lit street, he was aware of the different smells. He could smell cigarettes and cheap perfume, all containing a mix of omega pheromones. It was slightly fruity and stale, making his stomach churn.

Don’t focus on -

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Fucking fuck.

Izuku’s blood ran cold as someone yanked him backward, grabbing at the soft skin of his cheeks. “I’m just walking home. I-I have people waiting on me, so-“

Bright blue eyes locked with his.

Dabi.

Shit.

“I almost don’t recognize you without the mask, bunny.”

Izuku’s soft green eyes immediately hardened as he shoved the drunk alpha off of him. “Don’t touch me, Dabi. We both know that I can kick your ass in or out of the ring.”

Dabi growled, grabbing Izuku by the hoodie again. “It’s a shame you got such a smart mouth, bunny. I might’ve considered marking you.”

So fucking gross…

“Get fucked, Dabi.” Izuku snapped, pushing him back again.

The blue-eyed alpha huffed, causing the intense smell of alcohol to waft over the omega. “Why are you being such a frigid bitch, bunny? Sounds like someone needs a nice kn-“

Izuku pulled his arm back and punched the alpha square in the jaw.

Dabi released him and shot back, muffling a bunch of curses as he rubbed his jaw. Judging from his pheromones, he was obviously pissed off.

But then again, so was Izuku.

“You little bitch.” Dabi growled, standing at his full height.

Izuku scoffed, widening his stance and shifting into an all too familiar position. In the street light, the bandages on the omega’s fingers were much more visible than before.

The small omega clenched his jaw. “I’d stop it with the insults, Dabi. I’d hate to kick your ass again.”

Dabi lunged, but Izuku quickly ducked.

In a quick move, the small omega landed a harsh kick to the alpha’s stomach. It was a cheap move, but Izuku didn’t care.

He’s always hated pigs, anyway.

Before the small omega could move, though, Dabi growled and grabbed him by the hair. He yanked Izuku upright and shoved him towards the wall of the alley.

Shit.

Dabi chuckled lowly, placing his knee between Izuku’s legs and wrapping his hands around his throat. “You look pretty with my hands around your throat. Maybe I should-“

“What the fuck are you doing?”

The scarred alpha froze, his blue eyes flickering to the entrance. After a few seconds, Dabi immediately scowled. “Mind your business, golden boy.”

Golden boy?

Izuku struggled under Dabi’s grip, feeling slightly light-headed as the seconds continued to pass. “Le-let me-“

“Fuck off, staple-face.”

And just like that, the pressure on Izuku’s throat was gone.

Izuku coughed and gasped as his world adjusted, his green eyes landing on the mess of fighting alpha’s in front of him. The smell of cigarette ash was now accompanied by caramel and cinnamon, which shouldn’t have made his heart race.

Alphas.

Izuku inwardly scoffed, rubbing his throat as he slowly made his way towards the exit. The sooner he got home, the better.

He really doesn’t want to be yelled at by Aizawa.

“I’m sure your dad would hate to watch me kick your ass, stitches. He probably wants to do it himself!”

Izuku snickered softly, glancing back to look at the fighting match.

Dabi was completely unconscious on the ground, nearly overshadowed by the mysterious alpha. This same alpha was dressed in a black hoodie and baseball cap, which hid his face pretty well.

The small omega made a mental note to remember this when he fights Dabi next week. These nicknames were top-notch.

The alpha fixed his jacket, spinning to face Izuku.

Shit. Shit. Abort.

Izuku squeaked and turned to bolt. At this point, plenty of people were exiting the club. Plenty of people would probably help him if he screamed.

“Not so fast, freckles.”

The small omega was pulled back yet again.

Izuku spun around, his green eyes sharp as he bared his teeth in an obvious snarl. “Don’t touch me! I’m not sucking your dick just because you felt the need to play hero.”

Red eyes locked with his.

And for a second, that split second, Izuku felt like the world stood still. Instead of some ugly alpha with questionable intentions, this alpha simply looked annoyed and frustrated.

Not the usual type to defend Izuku in an alleyway.

“What the fuck are you doing out so late by yourself?”

Izuku blinked, pulling himself out of his daze as sweet caramel greeted his nose. “Does it matter?”

The alpha’s eyes twitched. “I think it does. Any omega with a bit of common sense would know not to be by themselves at this time of night.”

“I’m not most omegas.”

Izuku’s words caused the tiniest smirk to dawn on the alpha’s face.

This mysterious alpha was much taller than Izuku and definitely stronger. The hood of his jacket covered ash-blond hair, but no amount of darkness could hide those eyes. And even more so, it was obvious that he had a resting bitch face.

“Hah?! A resting what?”

Ah, fuck.

Izuku blushed bright red, chewing on his bottom lip in an attempt to keep his mouth shut. “I-ignore that. I tend to mumble a lot.”

The alpha narrowed his eyes. “I can see that, freckles. But what the fuck were you doing out here by yourself?”

I’m not helpless…

“I can handle myself. I don’t need your help.”

The alpha scoffed loudly, his scowl becoming more prominent on his face. “Don’t be fucking reckless. If I wasn’t here, Stitches would’ve done worse than choke you.”

Izuku rolled his eyes. “I had it handled.”

“Stop lying to yourself, freckles.”

The small omega clenched his jaw and pulled himself free of the alpha’s grip. His skin felt hot with fury and annoyance, especially since this alpha seemed so arrogant.

Izuku walked out of the alley, adjusting the strap of his guitar case and glancing around. The sidewalk was still full of people, so he was probably safe to finish walking home.

Before he could do so, however, a warm hand grasped his arm.

“Hold on, freckles. Let me walk you home.”

Izuku froze, glaring suspiciously at the alpha next to him. “I’m not helpless, you know. I don’t need a big, strong alpha to walk me home.”

Thank god for sarcasm.

The alpha shrugged, releasing Izuku’s arm and waited to follow him. “I’d feel much better knowing that you got home okay. I don’t want to see your fucking face on the news, freckles.”

Freckles? That’s the best you got?

“Fine.”

The small omega looked away from the alpha and started walking home, his heart fluttering in his chest as the smell of caramel enveloped him. Izuku’s never been good with attractive people, though.

Especially alphas with red eyes, which is his favorite color.

“What’s your name, nerd?”

Izuku blinkled, adjusting his hoodie. “I have enough survival instincts not to tell you. Stick to the shitty nicknames.”

The alpha huffed. “They’re not shitty!”

“I’m not convinced.”

Blondie {which Izuku decided to call him} growled in obvious annoyance, easily keeping up with the short omega. “Don’t you want to know my name? I’m sure you’re curious, shitty nerd.”

Izuku shrugged, glancing both ways before crossing a dimly-lit street. “Not really. It’s not like I’ll ever see you again.”

“How can you be so sure of that?”

“Because it’s obvious that you’ve never been here before.”

Blondie gave him a sideways glance, his red eyes glinting in the street light. “I’m that obvious? What gave it away, freckles?”

Izuku chewed on his bottom lip, slowing down as his apartment complex came into view. “If you were, then you would’ve known that I can handle Dabi. This won’t be the last time he tries to kick my ass.”

Silence.

Hehe.

“So he does that often?”

Izuku stopped in front of his complex, turning to glance at the red-eyed alpha. “More than you’d think.”

The alpha nodded, looking up at the apartment complex. “Well, I’m glad that you let me walk you home. Should I follow you inside?”

“I’m not too comfortable with that, Blondie.’

Blondie froze, shooting Izuku a scowl. “Don’t call me that, shitty nerd.”

Izuku snickered, punching a code into the door and opening it. “Thanks for the entertainment, Blondie. I’m sure that you’ll get better with the nicknames.”

He went inside, leaving alpha outside.

Thank god that’s over.

*****

AUTHOR’S NOTE

I’ve caved and decided to cross-post here! I’m loving the community on here and definitely enjoy the responses I’ve received!

All the love love love,

Ash <3

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 10: Dukexiety

@tsshipmonth2020

Day 10: You are born with a birthmark, similar to a tattoo, that is shared by your soulmate.

Content warnings: allusions to past suicidal thoughts, just bad mental health past in general, vague bullying, swimming pools, past isolation, minor injury (broken ribs), general anxiety and self deprecation.

Word count: 3.9k

I was very low on time, and very exhausted from work, so I tried something new! I first discovered the concept of ‘bullet fics’ from @illogicallyinclined ‘s hockey au, GO CHECK IT OUT!!! (It’s living in my head rent free for a couple months now)

Virgil, Patton, Logan, and Roman have been friends for as long as they can remember. The first three met at a neighborhood barbecue when they were just a couple years old, and since they all live on the same block, became each other’s go to play buddies. They all stuck together in their first years of school together, the unbreakable trio, and then they met Roman. Or, Roman was pulled into their clutches and was therefore part of the group now. Patton saw him getting bullied across the playground and ran in to help, and now Roman is ‘eternally in their debt’. But they like him, so his extravagance is okay. 

They hung out constantly, all throughout middle and highschool, and they graduated together. It was a big moment for all of them; Patton, who almost got left a grade behind several times (his dyslexia went undiagnosed for several years and he was simply categorized as ‘dumb’), Virgil, who almost didn’t make it due to a mental health crisis, Logan, who was pressured heavily by his parents to move up a grade and had to fight tooth and nail to stay with his friends, and Roman, who’s bullying problems didn’t exactly lessen through the years, and was more than relieved to be leaving that behind. 

That summer, they pledge (mostly by Roman’s pleading) to try and do something fun every day. While Logan says this is improbable and Virgil groans at the thought of spending every day socializing, Patton is excited for the idea and “it’s two against two so you have to at least try!”

“That logic doesn’t make sense-” “Shut it, teach, just let us have this.”

So far, they’ve gone to the amusement park just out of town, gone to the park too many times to count, visited their local arcade that they hadn’t even stepped foot into since middle school, and tie-dyed a variety of clothing items in Patton’s backyard. Today, Patton is forcing them all to go to the pool, despite Logan claiming that they’re “feces infested, germ nesting grounds” and Virgil’s argument that “he burns like an unwatched pot of milk, how can you expect this from me”, Patton’s little puppy eyes do them all in.

Unfortunately, just as they’re leaving for the pool, Roman gets a call. At first it’s civil, and then his voice raises, and then he’s hanging up and throwing his phone onto his seat from where he’s standing next to the open car door. Angrily, he tells his friends that his mom got called into work and his dad’s on a business trip, so they need to take his brother with them.

At first, this raises some confusion.

“I was not under the impression that you had a little brother.”

“How old is he? Either way, I say, the more the merrier!”

Virgil is not thrilled at the idea of babysitting, since kids generally don’t like him, but he doesn’t voice his displeasure. 

Roman has to admit, with much embarrassment, that it’s actually his twin, who is just so chaotically irresponsible that he has lost Home Alone Privileges. He’s broken the TV, accidentally started fires, and lost their dog one too many times and his parents said no more. 

So he drives all the way back to his house, the three friends crammed into the back seat of his two door sedan (because the seats are A Pain to raise and lower and it makes more sense to give said brother the front seat instead of rearranging when they get him), grumbling under his breath about his stupid brother, stupid work, stupid stupid stupid-

Virgil is apt to agree with him, because if being around his three closest friends is enough interaction to mentally exhaust him, adding a new person to the mess is so much worse. He’s generally unexcited to meet this new person… until they pull up to the driveway.

And holy heck. 

This man is GORGEOUS. 

It takes a second for him to realize it’s Roman’s brother, because despite his first assumption, the two are not identical. They’re very similar, obviously related, for sure, but they are surprisingly easy to tell apart, and it’s not just because of the silver streak in the brother’s hair.

Which he should not find as hot as he does.

After Roman insists said brother does need to go get a bathing suit and no you can not go swimming in your jeans, he jumps into the passenger seat and, with as much energy as Roman has at Full Potential, introduces himself as Remus to the backseat audience. 

Patton and Logan both say small hello’s, but Virgil is just stuck.

Dear lord. Princey, why have you been hiding him from me?

When they get to the pool, Virgil makes a complete fool of himself getting out of the car. He trips on his seatbelt, landing directly in Remus’ arms, and looks up to see this devil man grinning at him with all the hubris of a greek god. Before he can say anything, Virgil pushes himself up and rolls his eyes (all while internally screaming) and walks away, joining Patton and Logan where they are just entering the main gate. 

He can’t help it; when in proximity of cuteness, his emergency mode is “be a dick”.

But it only gets worse from there.

When Virgil has an umbrella properly set up above a chair so he can save his skin from the sun (“I burn like unwatched milk on a stove. I’m not going in.”) and is comfortably situated with his phone and iced coffee, Remus steps in front of him to take his shirt off. 

He’s pretty sure Remus didn’t even mean to. It just… happened to be directly in his line of sight. 

As soon as the shirt is above his head, Virgil chokes on his drink, squirting iced coffee out of his nose and going into a coughing fit. Patton rubs his back while Roman tries not to laugh (and fails miserably), all while Remus is just watching him. Confused. (Logan is in the change rooms, because he insists on not wearing his bathing suit unless he is actively about to swim)

There’s more than just the sun issue that prevents Virgil from swimming. While his friend’s soulmarks are relatively small (Roman has a little one on his neck, Logan and Patton have a shared one just above their ankles), Virgil’s is a huge splotch that covers his entire side, reaching from just above his top rib to where his waistband usually lies. It’s all squiggles and lumps; Virgil once compared it to a storm cloud, but the lightning streaks were tentacles. It’s all in all, just… A Mess. And he doesn’t really like it. No one he’s ever met has had a soulmark like that, and he hates standing out.

When Remus takes off his shirt, in all his muscled glory, Virgil can’t miss the matching soulmark that trails down Remus’ side. It’s his, no doubt about it, but… that can’t be right, can it? Remus is so… full of life, dangerous, the epitome of chaotic; he’s everything Virgil is not. More so, he’s terrified of what Remus must think of him. He’s nothing special, he’s just an anxious ball of angst. What if he’s disappointed in who the universe decided to stick him with? 

After he’s done choking on iced coffee, and Logan is back from the change room, he realizes Remus is long gone, in the deep end of the pool trying to gather as many foam noodles as he can. They check that Virgil is alright, and when he merely gives them a shaky thumbs up, they take it at face value and dive in. Except Logan, who uses the steps like a mature adult, you children. 

He lets the rest of his coffee sit in the sun, until the sun melts all the ice cubes and it’s lukewarm to touch and overall, just gross, because suddenly he has no appetite. Yeah, this guy is gorgeous and he’s hopelessly gay for him, but... soulmate? That’s a lot for anyone to take in, much less someone with forty seven different kinds of anxiety. /j

If Virgil was uneasy taking his shirt off before, he sure as hell isn’t doing it now. No matter how much Patton and Roman plead with him, he stays glued to his chair, eyes flickering from his friends playing Marco Polo to watching his soulmate Remus. He’s turned the pool noodles into a giant raft and is trying to balance on it, like an absolute idiot.

An extremely good looking idiot. 

Virgil can’t help but notice that… he’s all alone. Roman, Patton, and Logan barely even throw him the occasional glance, much less invite him to hang out with them in the water. Worse than that, he seems relatively fine with it. It could just be that he doesn’t want to intrude on his brother’s friend group, but Remus doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to have those boundaries. Which kind of insinuates that he’s used to being alone, and Virgil can’t help but empathize. 

He notices it a lot, actually. The group meeting Remus also coincides with Roman and Virgil becoming more close; less of a frenemy relationship, and more of an actual friendship. Patton is delighted, because this means the three of them get to hang out at Roman’s huge place more often without their constant bickering (because when it got bad at one of their houses, Virgil’s was never more than a ten minute walk away when Roman finally pushed his last button. Here, they were all stuck.)

And every time they go over, he can’t help but notice the loud music coming from Remus’ room, or the man just sitting on the couch watching TV (which he tends to do shirtless, which does not help Virgil at all), or irritating Roman’s parrot. All in all, doing things alone. It strikes a chord in Virgil’s heart, which is something he’d never admit to another person.

Maybe that’s why, in the following week when Roman has the grand idea to go on a mountain hike, Virgil quietly asks if they could invite Remus. At first, Roman is adamant. “He’ll just ruin things, he doesn’t appreciate nature, he’s annoying!” But Patton claims “The more the merrier” and Logan doesn’t have any particular stance, so he begrudgingly invites Remus.

Who very excitedly accepts. 

The trail Roman visited is quite a ways out of town, so they cram back into his tiny car and start the drive. Patton claimed shotgun, so him and Roman have derailed into an animated conversation about cartoons, while Logan just pops in his earbuds and leans his head against the window. For the longest time, Remus and Virgil sit in awkward silence, because neither of them could get a word in edgewise to the front seat conversation even if they tried, and they don’t… really… know what to say… to each other. 

It’s Remus who finally breaks the silence (shocker).

“Roman tells more you’re the one who wanted to invite me.”

“Yeah, well, you seemed lonely. And… I mean, you’re Roman’s brother. Can you really be that bad?”

He means it as a joke, but he sees the light in Remus’ eyes die slightly. The tone of his voice doesn’t falter though, remaining as joyful and quirky as always. 

“I’m a lot more fun than Roman. People just don’t like to see it that way.”

“Setting your kitchen curtains on fire is fun?”

“If you were there, you’d understand!”

And they keep talking, maybe trailing into borderline flirting, for the whole ride. Virgil is surprised at the lack of tenseness in his shoulders, because though Remus is loud and a little unsettling, he is incredibly patient when Virgil has trouble forming his sentences and doesn’t interrupt him when he’s talking; an incredible help to someone with crippling anxiety. Underneath his exterior, he’s actually… incredibly soft? What?

By the time they pull up to the trail, Remus is actually starting to grow on Virgil. Since Patton and Roman are still so into their debate, and Logan seems content listening to his music (or podcast, but who really knows), they continue talking as the hike starts. The shorter boy can’t help but glance at the other every few seconds, seeing their soulmark just peeking past the edge of his baggy tank top. If Remus notices, he says nothing. 

And he learns Remus was bullied a lot through school, just like Roman was, but instead of finding a group that supported him, he broke off as a lone wolf. He came off scary or maybe just a little bit crazy to anyone he tried to befriend, since his social skills were pretty lacking due to disuse and his incredible lack of filter, so he learned early that staying alone hurt less. And in that time, he just became more and more… Like That… because he literally never had peers to mature with. 

The hike is a long one. Remus is pretty eager to spill his guts, probably since he was never able to before, so Virgil feels obligated to do the same. He tells Remus about his anxiety, about his mental health issues during school, about his home life and his hobbies, and the fact that there are more people around just fades into the background. It could as well be just them, and Virgil starts to wish it was. 

So of course, that’s when everything goes to shit.

A mountain biker comes ripping down the path, too quick to even process, and Virgil is caught off guard. Of course, he’s not walking near the edge of the path, because he has some shred of common sense, but the bike speeding by him causes him to flinch and stumble to the side; an instinctual reaction. Except his instincts decided to not remember until the last second that he’s at the edge of the trail.

It’s almost like happening in slow motion, his foot goes over the edge, and he doesn’t realize what’s about to happen until his other foot is already off the ground, ready to take that next step back, and he’s falling. Luckily (as lucky as one can be in this situation), it’s not a straight drop, just a decently long, steep slope that’s essentially just a bunch of rocks and weeds. 

He hears his friends scream his name, sees a hand fly out to catch him, and it just snags the edge of his jacket before he’s freefalling for a split moment. One heart stopping, never ending, eternal and all too short moment of weightlessness where he twists his body, hoping to try and brace himself, and then he meets the slope.

Hard.

His breath leaves him in a wheeze and he distinctly hears a loud snap. Through his pain addled brain, he tries to stop his slide further down by grabbing anything; rocks, roots, dirt. It’s useless.

He stops naturally, on a small ledge several meters from the top before the slope continues. For a moment, he can only lay there, trying to breathe through the intense pain flaring through him pretty much everywhere, not to mention the sheer levels of pure panic numbing his thoughts. He stares at the clouds, watching them as they float by, each breath spreading fire through his torso but at the same time strangely numb.

And then, “VIRGIL!”

His eyes shoot open (wait, when did he close them?) to see Remus’ concerned face above his. If the messied state of his outfit is any indication, this man just slid down the slope to catch up to him. His hands are hovering above Virgil, scared to touch, but more scared that Virgil is going to keep falling.

“Fuck,” is Virgil’s eloquent response. He tries to take a deep breath, tries to do his breathing pattern to calm his nerves, but NOPE. Wrong move. 

He immediately gasps and his hands fly to his ribs, another flair of pain shooting up them. Remus’ hands grab his, pulling them away from his torso, holding them securely. “I think you have some broken ribs. That was… one hell of a fall. We need to get you back up to the trail though, okay?”

Virgil can only nod his head, allowing Remus to help him stand, biting his lip so hard to keep from crying out that his lip splits. It hurts.

Trust Logan to come up with ideas on the fly. The biker must have stopped when he realized Virgil had fallen (at least he didn’t just keep driving), because when Virgil opened his tear filled eyes, there was a bike tire just a few feet from his face. He followed the frame of the bike, up to where Roman was holding the other wheel and standing precariously on the slope. Logan is clinging onto his hand, one foot on the slope and one on the actual trail, and if Virgil has to guess, the biker and Patton are just out of sight, keeping Logan steady. 

Virgil knows it’s going to hurt before Remus even warns him that it will, watching the taller man get a good grip on the bike wheel, before holding Virgil’s wrist with as much force that can muster without actively cutting off circulation. Virgil holds onto his wrist in return, Remus gives a shout to go ahead, and the human/bike chain they’ve created begins to pull them up. 

And oh lord, if Virgil thought just laying down was painful, tripping and stumbling up a steep incline is another world altogether. This time, biting his lip doesn’t work and he lets out a few muffled cries as the team works together, Remus squeezing his wrist every time a choked sound escapes his lips, mind too full of pure agony to even curse.

When they finally step foot onto the trail again, Virgil is in tears, and he is too far gone to even care. The biker is incredibly apologetic, offering his contact information and bidding them adieu when they insist that they’re okay now, and takes off, at an admittedly much slower pace than he was at before. 

Logan, the only one of them with proper (and extensive) first aid training, forces Virgil to sit, giving him time to find a position that puts as little pressure on his ribs as possible, before crouching in front of him.

“Let me check if they’re broken.”

His hand reaches out towards Virgil’s shirt and all the alarm bells start BLARING. No. No, no, no, no, no. Before he can restrain himself, he reaches out and slaps Logan’s hand away, sending another wave of pain through him. The pain doesn’t matter though, not in comparison to Logan possibly revealing his soulmark. 

Logan doesn’t understand this reaction properly (when does he ever), so he tries again.

“Virgil, I need to check the extent of the damage. A cracked rib means you can still make it back to the car. A broken rib would require emergency services and probable air lifting to prevent further damage, like a punctured lung.”

“Fine,” Virgil hisses through clenched teeth, bitterly understanding his logic, “Just… don’t take the shirt off.”

He tries to say it to only Logan, but it’s clear the other’s heard it by the way they exchange confused glances. Yes, they’ve never seen Virgil without a shirt, except they’d always pegged that up to insecurities. Wouldn’t those take a back seat in a possible medical emergency? 

Logan complies, however, and slides his hand under the hem of his shirt without moving the fabric. He runs his hands slowly up each rib, concentrating heavily, until he reaches one midway up and Virgil yelps, instinctively flinching backwards.

Startled by the reaction (it’s his first time actually administering first aid like this, give him a break), Logan jumps back, forgetting his hand is still under Virgil’s shirt.

His hand moves up.

Virgil moves back.

And the hem of his shirt rises up his chest for just a moment.

A moment’s all that’s needed, though. When you notice something that you’ve seen yourself a hundred times over, admiring this way and that in the mirror to commit it to memory, it only takes a glance to recognize it.

Remus only needed that split second of the shirt riding up to notice the lower half of the soulmark, and he definitely did notice it, if the way his jaw drops is anything to go off of. Virgil winces again, not from pain this time, and looks down at his shoes, abhorring the awkward silence that ensues.

The other three don’t understand, watching the two of them with varying levels of confusion, until Remus blurts:

“Are you my soulmate?”

And everything clicks into place. Virgil nods mutely, still not looking up, afraid of his reaction. Would he be upset Virgil kept it a secret? Would he be disappointed? Would he would he would he-

“Oh thank GOD!”

That’s… not the reaction he was expecting. He looks up to see Remus grinning like a child on their birthday, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I mean, if I’d want anyone to be my soulmate, it would be you! You don’t hate me, which a lot of people do, and you actually listen to me, which is nice, and not to mention you’re super hot, like the whole emo thing is just-”

“Remus!” Roman screeches, cutting him off, “You’re embarrassing him, let him breathe!”

It’s the first time Roman has ever come to Virgil’s defense, and he’s only vaguely happy about that. Truth is, he’s so much more wrapped up in the fact that Remus is actually happy that he doesn’t even notice Logan’s back to touching his ribs until another sharp pain brings him back.

“They’re definitely not broken. Fractured, at worst. Either way, you’re going to the hospital. Only question is, can you get down to the car?”

Virgil wants to nod, wants to go along with no problem, but he can barely take a step before his knees almost give out. If he could double over without making everything worse, he would. 

Remus doesn’t see this as a problem, though, eagerly offering Virgil to ride on his back until they get to the bottom. The shorter is, obviously, reluctant to this plan, seeing as how it’s a decently long trail and he isn’t that light, but damn, his soulmate insists, and next thing he knows, he’s gingerly holding onto Remus’ shoulders as he pushes back into a standing position.

(If he wasn’t already super hot, he’s strong, too? Virgil has struck the literal jackpot.)

He buries his face into the crook of Remus’ neck, trying not to wince at every jolt and bump as they maneuver their way down the hill, all conversation halted so they can focus on the two of them. Roman walks in front of them and Patton and Logan behind, ready to jump into action at any sign of stumbling. 

But it’s okay, it actually is, Virgil realizes as they’re making their way down the hill. Sure, they only really bonded today, but they also bonded in a day, and if that’s not telling of the future they’ll have together, whether romantic or platonic (they still need to talk that out), it’s gonna be okay.

Anyone who’s willing to throw themselves into harm's way and carry you down a mountain has got to be a worthy soulmate.

[theluckyyyoneee]

antipode | pcy

pairing: park chanyeol x reader

contents: high school!au, soccerplayer!chanyeol, serious!yn, mild cursing, reader becoming very confused and thinks they’re going crazy!seriously reader has minor panic attack:(

word count: 10,2k

summary: AlternateUniverseAU! When the guy you hate—and who you’re certain hates you—becomes your boyfriend after you swore he kicked a soccer ball at your head.

part 01  |  part 02  |  part 03:finale

You can’t be friends with everybody.

Damned if that wasn’t the truest statement you’d ever heard.

Trying to appear friendly to everyone you met without changing your personality to fit theirs or their expectations they held for you a few moments after first meeting you, you now used that saying as a very important and undeniable proverb to live by at a relatively young age.

You guessed it was a good thing that you weren’t one of those people who needed to be the center of attention or someone who enjoyed being surrounded by people who all pretended to be your friends to your face while insulting you behind your back. So that was why you preferred to keep company in the form of three close friends who were like your own family. Ugh, high school drama.

You couldn’t wait to graduate and spend at least one month relaxing before starting to register and pack up for college, already grimacing at how busy you would be this summer, but at least at college they would treat you more like the adult you were, or at least the adult you felt like, rather than babying you in high school.

“Class don’t forget, I already gave you an extension on yesterdays homework, so I fully expect it on my desk tomorrow afternoon before class starts. Okay?”

Groans erupted from the whole class, save you and a few other students who had actually completed the assignment when it was first issued. 

“Ms. Lee, can we just turn it in on Friday please? I haven’t had time to finish it with the soccer practices that I have everyday, I’m sure you know that the game is coming up.” You didn’t even have to look to your right to know it was Chanyeol who was speaking, his smooth and loud words piercing through the noise and the whole classroom silenced at the sound of his voice. 

You also didn’t have to look at him to tell that he was giving Ms. Lee his signature kicked puppy expression; wide brown eyes and his lower lip jutted out in an exaggerated pout. Keeping your constant gaze on your teacher instead, you watched somewhat amusedly at the flush that crept on her cheeks you could see from your seat, the way her hands balled into fists at her side then gripped the material of her slacks as she agreed with a shaky tone, deciding that Friday was a better day after all.

As soon as the teacher had turned her back to the students, no doubt fantasizing a scenario that would land her in jail if she acted upon it, given the teacher student relationship, even though you were certain he was eighteen. Chanyeol and a few of his jockhead buddies next to him exchanged high fives, the bell signaling the end of the school day motivating everyone to spring up from their seats and out the door.

“Ugh,” you muttered under your breath, taking a stand as well and stole another glance in his direction, scoffing and shaking your head slightly at his eyes already on your figure, his head tilted to the side as he wiggled his fingers in your direction, his friends watching from the sidelines, giggling at his actions, slapping him jokingly on the arm as they watched you exit out the door.

Idiots, didn’t they have minds of their own? You didn’t think so, since they chose to spend their time with that pompous and self-entitled jerk. No, maybe they were just as bad as he was, but there wasn’t a way for you to know since they had never attempted to mess with you the way Chanyeol adored.

“Wow, so approachable Y/n, no wonder you only have, like, three friends. You know, you should really appreciate me more for even talking to you.” Junmyeon chides, slinging his arm over your shoulder as he appears suddenly at your side in the busy hallway, keeping close to you to avoid getting in anyone’s way.

A genuine smile crept on your lips and you softly jabbed him in the stomach with your elbow, ignoring how solid his midsection seemed underneath his shirt. A huff of air escaped him and he clutched his stomach dramatically, wringing his hold on your shoulders even tighter and you gasped, grimacing as he pushed your face into his chest as he ruffled your hair with his other hand.

“Yeah right, you with your dad jokes, you would just drive them away.” You retorted, pushing him off you as the two of you neared your locker, shaking your head and fixing your nest of a hairstyle thanks to that nerd. Putting in the right combination on your lock, you smirked as you glanced at him leaning against the lockers next to yours and continued, “I swear, sometimes it’s like you’re a middle aged man inside a teenagers body.”

He opened his mouth in indignation, rolling his eyes and scoffed, looking into the distance as a scowl graced his handsome features. “Not my fault that I have a sense of humor too sophisticated for a peasant’s taste like yours.”

Giving him the middle finger with one hand, you shoved your locker shut with the other and readjusted your backpack and walked alongside Junmyeon in the much emptier hallways towards the school’s exit. Running into Yerim and Kyungsoo along the way, the four of you stopped by the doors leading downstairs, conversing a bit before they had to make their way down to the photography room—both of them involved with taking photos for the yearbook.

You couldn’t help but smile a bit at the way she leaned back into his chest as you talked, his arms casually hanging around her shoulders.

They were so cute.

After awhile their allotted time for conversation was up and they waved goodbye and you continued on your way home. You two resided in the same neighborhood about an eight minute walk away from school, so it was routine to walk home together almost everyday when he didn’t have tutoring on Tuesday and Thursdays.

“Leaving for the day? Must be nice.” A low voice echoed out to you and startled the two of you apart, attempting to calm the pounding of your heart you looked behind to where the loud sound had came from and frowned to see Chanyeol bounding about a yard behind you and Junmyeon, a black gym bag draped casually from his broad shoulders. 

Long gone were his baggy tee and jeans and his famous soccer uniform adorned his frame now, looking ridiculously even more tall now than he did before. He eyed the two of you with a deep stare, his lips forming a line as you eyed him with a similar hard gaze and looped your arm in Junmyeon’s. 

“Uh, y-yeah, we are. Heading to practice?” Junmyeon replied hesitantly beside you and you eyed him weirdly, wondering why he was acting so buddy buddy with him. While you on the other hand, kept your grip on his arm tight and continued to walk without glancing back.

“Yeah. The teacher wanted to talk to me after class and I still had to change before heading over to the field.”

You rolled your eyes, remembering the blush that was distinctly on Ms. Lee’s cheeks and wondered how that conversation went. Chanyeol probably got his way like he always did.

Junmyeon made a sound of acknowledgement, not really knowing what to say in return to Chanyeol’s story, and he opened his mouth after glancing at you, most likely going to utter an awkward goodbye before Chanyeol cut in before he could with—

“Are you two dating? You guys are always together.”

His tone had a certain edge to it that he didn’t previously possess and you frowned at both his nosiness and his hostility. Why did he care? So he could find another reason to make fun of you?

You were suddenly being pushed away with a gentle hand on your arm as Junmyeon explained quickly, “No, no, we’re not dating. We’re just really close friends and have lived in the same neighborhood since middle school.”

You couldn’t have agreed more, but you were a bit put off by how quick he was to deny a relationship with you, were you really that bad, you pondered with a slight pout.

Chanyeol must’ve seen the expression on your face and pounced at the chance—

“Right, who’d want to go out with Y/n.” His words were said with a snicker, having caught up to the two of you in no time and stepping around you to flash you a smirk, glancing up and down at your figure before exiting the double doors.

“Yah!” You shouted at his back, already being able to tell he was laughing at the way his shoulders shook just before the doors shut behind him with a loud noise. You were fuming at his words, fuming at the way he wanted to make you less than average.

Placing your hands on your hips, you blew air out of your mouth and paced around in a small circle, trying to burn this sudden burst of hot energy you found yourself experiencing. You wished you would’ve landed a roundhouse kick right in the square of Chanyeol’s back, but let’s be honest, you would’ve most definitely missed and given yourself an embarrassing cramp.

“Why do you guys do that?” Junmyeon asked exasperatedly, eyeing the doors Chanyeol had exited out of in a quiet curiosity you were used to seeing on his face by the long years you’ve known him. 

Your mouth dropped open at his question and pointed at the closed doors. “He obviously started it! You saw, I didn’t even say anything to him and he still managed to insult me.”

“Was it an insult?”

“How was, ‘Right, who’d want to go out with Y/n, har har’, not an insult? Sure he didn’t outright say any demeaning words or phrases, but it was well implied and you know it.” You lowered your voice when repeating the phrase, trying to mimic the deep tone of Chanyeol’s voice with some difficulty.

He titled his head to the side a bit and pursed his lips, walking ahead of you and opening the door and you had to rush to not be left behind, the heat from the sun warming up your skin. “I don’t think so, but whatever you guys want to call it, it has to stop. Just date already.” 

“Excuse me?” You all but screeched, looking at him with an expression of disbelief.

He shrugged and held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Hey, don’t look at me. You were the one who told me you that he was cute when you first met him.”

“That was before he opened his mouth and I found out what a jerk he is,” you mumbled, heat creeping up on your cheeks as you remembered, yes, technically once upon a time you did find Chanyeol somewhat charming and handsome.

You usually stayed away from the athletes, they created unnecessary attention and special treatment wherever they went. It wasn’t as if you had an interest in things such as football, soccer, diving, track, etc., so you didn’t understand the obsession with these athletes that drove everyone crazy at the mere sight of them.

The first time you had laid eyes on Chanyeol, he hadn’t been dressed in his uniform, looking comfortable as ever in a plain t-shirt and jeans combination, and you could admit it to yourself now, that yes, your heart did pick up its pace a bit at the sight of him, your face heating up as you made yourself look away, being stuck in a daze of just gazing at him for sometime.

It wasn’t as if you automatically had the naive assumption that everyone on earth was an angel or anything of that nature, but you thought that he was generally a good person, seeing as no one seemed to hold any grudges or contempt towards him, always greeted and greeting everyone with a wide smile and the joyous everyone reacted to his presence. 

You were fascinated by him.

Did your fascination cross some line into a crush like thing? You weren’t sure. It wasn’t as if you wanted to talk to him and enter his busy world, you were completely fine watching him from afar, your faith in humanity returning the tiniest bit by finding a good young person in this Sodom and Gomorrah that you called high school.

Until you had a personal interaction with him.

It was completely random timing, it was an ordinary day, you were already seated in your chair near the back where Ms. Lee had assigned you at the beginning of the semester. You had your book you were currently engrossed with open on your otherwise empty desk, but you had looked up when you heard someone enter. 

Chanyeol walked in with his backpack, that looked practically empty to you, comfortably slung over his shoulder and he sauntered to his seat and you froze as the two of you made eye contact for the first time. 

You expected for his eyes to skim right past you, but they didn’t. He kept your stare with his wide brown eyes for a few moments longer before he let his backpack fall to the ground by his seat and slowly sank himself in it, you not noticing his teammates and desk buddies watching the whole exchange, their grins hidden behind their hands that covered their mouths. 

You blinked and distractedly returned to your book, not remembering what part you had been on before or the context to make sense of this sentence when a pair of large feet encased in some no doubt expensive sneakers came into your view of vision and you whipped your head up to stare blankly at Chanyeol standing about a foot away from your desk, gazing down at you with a smile.

Your lips began to turn up in response to his, until of course he opened his mouth—

“Don’t you have any friends?” He asked you, his voice the usual amount of volume as it usually was but it felt like he had shouted it, the classroom silencing at his words and chuckles began echoing from your classmates all around you two. 

Your skin began to flush with the embarrassment at being laughed at, at being made fun of so openly, an unpleasant feeling settling in your stomach as you eyed the confident smirk that rested on his lips as he stared back at you expectantly. 

“Of course I do.” Was all you could think to reply, your tone slightly questioning, wondering what he meant to accomplish by asking you that question. 

“Then why are you always alone?

Your features twisted into a glare at his next question. What is wrong with him? Why had he chose this particular moment to ask you a somewhat private inquisition in front of the whole class rather than approach you when there were less students present and at a much less close proximity. 

Was what his goal? To embarrass you? If so, it was working, as much as you willed it not to.

It was a reaction you couldn’t seem to help. You were human after all, as much as you were confident in yourself, you doubted anyone enjoyed being laughed at unless they were actually trying to be funny intentionally.

Your lips formed to put your thoughts into words when the bell rang, your mouth still open as you watched him leave to return to his seat in the front of the classroom. 

You could feel the stares of the students around you and you used your hair as a shield for the rest of the time. Your eyes fixed on the clock routinely, you began quietly packing up your books and pencils and was the first one out of your seat and out the door by the time the bell rang—not noticing the way he stared at you as you sped out the room at lightning speed.

After that, it was as if he had forgotten your existence, how it had been until that one particular encounter. You had given it a discomfiting amount of thought, the only explanation to his questions was that he was in fact trying to embarrass you, the more you thought it, the more his seemingly innocent smile seemed like a sinister smirk.

It was fine for awhile, he left you alone like he’d always had, but you no longer watched him from afar, you strayed as far as possible from him and his buddies who seemed to always be in a sudden giddy mood whenever they spotted you from across the hall or cafeteria. You could feel his eyes on you, but you tried to distract yourself with engaging into a conversation with Kyungsoo as to why he should bake you a cake this weekend.

Then he somehow decided you existed again and began to make passing remarks to you in the halls.

“Nice hair, sleeping beauty!”

You had woken up late thanks to sleeping right through your alarm and had gotten ready in about eight minutes, your hair drying in an awkward way from the way you tossed in your sleep the night before and had thrown it in a ponytail that barely tamed your natural waves that you were trying your best not to feel so self conscious about.

His comment made your cheeks flame as you registered the snickers that sounded all around you at his words. You made no facial expression whatsoever as you passed each other, determined to maintain your nonchalant and confident facade that crumbled pitifully as you were sure he was out of sight.

“What’s up, nerd?”

Chanyeol appeared beside you, a good foot taller than you, but you managed to hear his words just fine in the midst of a million conversations that were happening all around you. He walked ahead of you, but not before he nudged you with his shoulder and knocked the books you held in your arms down tumbling to the floor, earning attentive stares as they stared you bent over, picking up the strewn books off the floor and back into your arms.

He didn’t even look back, that asshole. Seriously, what was his problem?

Ever since then, you made it clear you wanted nothing to do with Park Chanyeol. Not like your over-exaggerated indifference to his glances and stares, seemingly playful waves and loud greetings of your name in a sugary tone that made people stop and look at you deterred him any. 

If anything, your lack of reactions only seemed to encourage him, his voice echoed louder in the halls than before. People were starting to associate you with him, amused smirks creeping on their faces and watchful eyes with just the sight of you wandering down the halls. 

You hated the way the rest of the whole student body ate from the palm of his hand, laughing and smirking along to his words.

But all you had to do was continue to ignore him, no way was there a chance in hell that you would ever willingly approach him first.

Or so you thought.

“You’re tutoring Chanyeol?”

“I was supposed to, but I can’t. My grandparents flew in and they can only stay for tonight,” he started to explain, looking the least bit frustrated at the surprise visit but mostly excited. “My mom wants me home early to spend time with them before they continue on their journey of seeing the world or something like that, I don’t know.” He sighed, shaking his head. His expression suddenly changed and he was grinning at you broadly and gave you the notebook that was previously in his grip. “Can you just give him this notebook of notes I wrote out for him, he told me that he has last minute practice anyway so it was fine, I wrote everything very clearly and dumbed it down enough for him to understand it.”

“I doubt that, all he knows how to do is how to kick around a ball and think the world revolves around him,” you couldn’t help but mutter, an impressed expression no doubt taking place on your face as you skimmed the contents of the notebook, Junmyeon was very detailed and if Chanyeol still had no idea after studying this guide, he was an even bigger idiot than you thought.

“Y/n, please?” Junmyeon sighed in front of you, even going as far as to clutch your shoulders in his hands as he looked down at you with a pleading expression. “I know you two don’t get along, but just get his attention for one second, point to the notebook and leave it on the bleachers and leave. I would go myself, but I’m already late going home and the field is all over on the other side of the school. Please, I’m counting on you! Thank you! If I’m any later, they said they would send Minseok out to come get me! I’ll text you later!”

He left you with your mouth hanging open watching him sprint down the street and out of your sight in less than ten seconds, almost falling face first after rounding a sharp corner. The sight of him almost biffing it made you crack a grin, wondering just how secretly scary his slightly older brother was to make him run home like that.

Their parents sure made handsome boys, shame though, you knew just how much Mrs. Kim had always wanted a daughter and got stuck with two boys instead.

A grimace came on your features as you sluggishly began your journey to the field, a sigh escaping you. You thanked your luck that it wasn’t a sweltering day or else you would’ve literally turned around and forgotten about the whole thing, but since Junmyeon had seemed really anxious and pleading, you would do him this favor.

He totally owed you a meal for this.

The walk actually wasn’t too bad and passed far quicker than you anticipated, must have been all those years practicing your fast walk to perfection,  and you could hear the whistle and yelling from a distance, only becoming more clear and noisy the closer you came to the field, the rich green turf momentarily blinding you if you looked directly at it. 

Tall, lean forms in matching white jerseys and shorts ran along the field, each with their own ball, taking turns taking free shots at the goal net at the other end of the field.

Good, at least you caught him early on in the practice as to not possibly getting yelled at by the head soccer coach that had always intimidated you by his yells you could hear miles away.

Clutching the notebook tighter in your grip, you slowly made your way around the fence, coming closer to the bleachers that held many gym bags along with half filled water bottles and towels laid untidily on the seat, making you grimace at the disorder of it all.

Your hesitant arrival becoming noticed rather quickly, you watched with a feeling of impending doom as the whole team shouted Chanyeol’s name, his head shooting up from his focus on the soccer ball in front of him to you, his face changing from a stoic concentration, to shock, then to a smirk.

You eyed the whole ordeal strangely. Maybe Junmyeon had told him that you were coming to drop off the notebook in his stead and to look out for you when you arrived? You ran through your previous conversation with the man in question, but nothing came up of him telling you that Chanyeol was expecting you other than gaining his attention.

Which you did, in a surprisingly short amount of time and effort. His teammates all had big grins on their faces and were playfully shoving him around and your brows furrowed in confusion at the reaction your presence created.

Just show him the notebook and get out, Y/n, you told yourself, gritting your teeth and held up the notebook in your right hand—Chanyeol still staring intently at you, fiddling with the ball at his feet—and dropped it on the bleachers, not bothering to find his personal bag and felt relieved that you managed to complete Junmyeon’s plea with much less difficulty than you were anticipating. 

“Watch out!” He suddenly exclaimed with a yell as you caught the tail-end of his kick, his right leg swinging out in front of him with the force of it.

Eyes widening in alarm, your heart beating at an alarming rate as you realized the ball was heading straight towards you, then everything went black with a thump.

You blinked and all of a sudden you found yourself laying in an uncomfortable bed located in the nurses office. A cold and foreign object being placed gently on your temple that throbbed and hurt like a bitch made you flinch back in surprise and pain, a hiss escaping your parted lips.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” a breathy and apologetic voice sounded from beside you and once again you startled, your heart rate going from a normal range to tap dancing within the confines of your rib cage. You swung your head to the left, only to freeze as you locked gazes with Park Chanyeol, the sight of him and the onslaught of increased pain leaving you to groan, your left hand instinctively coming up to poke and prod at the area causing you so much discomfort.

“Would you stop moving, I’m trying to keep this ice pack on your head.” He spoke again, this time much less breathy and more exasperated, yet still weirdly apologetic, his own hand catching your wrist and gently tugging it back down before you could make contact. He made no move to extract his hand from yours and you eventually pulled away, choosing not to focus on how warm and secure his hand had felt holding yours.

Memories came rushing back to you the longer you stared quizzically at him, a gasp leaving your mouth as the suddenly crystal clear vision of that damned soccer ball zooming straight in your direction, a smirking Park Chanyeol being the one to kick it at you, after all. 

“You hit me with the soccer ball!” Yelling only upset your injury more but you didn’t care. You knew he didn’t like you, but kicking a soccer ball at full speed from the other end of a giant field at you crossed the line. 

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you, it was an accident, I must’ve lost my aim or something.” He rushed out the excuse, his words gaining volume as his expression changed back into what looked like guilt, furrowed brows and he gnawed at his bottom lip as he winced in conjunction as he readjusted the ice pack on your head.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, letting Chanyeol know that you didn’t believe his sorry story for a second. “Yeah, right.”

“What?”

“You totally meant to hit me, there’s no way your aim could’ve missed.” It wasn’t like you were on the actual field standing in front of the net or anything, you had been standing in front of the bleachers. 

His mouth flew open and a noise of assault exited his mouth, eyebrows shooting clear up to his hairline at your use of his own words against him, his tone becoming more desperate with each word he spoke, eyes fixed earnestly on yours. “It did! Why don’t you believe me?”

“Because you hate me, that’s why! You’ve probably had this planned for a week, but it backfired because you know I know, and that’s why you’re taking care of me—give me this.” You snatched the ice pack away from him, the movement causing your head to hurt even worse and you reapplied the ice pack to your temple with a groan and a death glare.

Chanyeol was looking at you like you had just eaten the last slice of pizza after taunting him for ten straight minutes, the hurt and betrayal clear in his expression, his dark eyes wide and mouth turned down into an obvious frown as his gaze roamed over you repeatedly.

“Why would you say that? Are you okay? Why on earth would I hate you?” You hated the way those words sounded coming from him. How would he expect you to understand something like that?

“How the hell should I know? You tell me.”

“But I don’t hate you! I love you!” He seemed especially and genuinely earnest now, even more than a few moments ago, going to grab your hand in his once again, but you retreated before he could, a look of hurt crossing his features, and then you registered his sentence.

Well, you weren’t expecting him to ever utter those words in response to yours. “...What?”

“Of course I love you, you’re my girlfriend.”

“WHAT?”

The two of you stared at each other unblinking for a few moments, before you broke it with a tired sigh and shook your head the tiniest bit to as not to upset your headache and injury even more. “Look, I don’t know what you’re trying to pull, but it’s not working, so you can stop. I’m not in the mood for this right now.”

“Stop what?” He seemed confused at your words, large frame scooting closer to yours on the bed, to which you scooted back with a questioning gaze.

You stared at him in all seriousness then and answered with a sneer, “As if we would ever date.”

You had to give him credit, he was keeping his character for longer than you thought he would, and his face still held that expression of bewilderment and concern as he continued to study your face with his wide eyes, his mouth turned down at the sides in a frown.

“Y/n, this isn’t funny, okay? I already feel really bad about hurting you, I get it. You don’t need to pretend to not know who I am.” Gone was his faux concern and in came his signature eye roll that you’ve seen many times, relaxing from his alert position to lean back in his chair.

You squinted your eyes and continued to look at him weirdly, wondering if he was the one who got hit in the head and not you, what with his sudden strange behavior and all. But after a few more moments, you realized you really didn’t care, and just wanted to go home and maybe set up a doctor’s appointment to get your bruise looked at by a professional. It didn’t hurt as much as it did at first, but your head still throbbed from the collision.

“I know who you are, obviously, but we’re not dating—you know what, I don’t really care, I’m going home now, thanks for nothing... except for possibly giving me a concussion.” You huffed as you slid off the bed slowly, shrugging off Chanyeol’s helpful irksome hands as he tried to help steady you, scowling in irritation at how annoying and clingy he was being, deliberating on taking the ice pack home with you but deciding against it and placed it in the sink with a small shrug. Your house wasn’t far from here, surely you would survive the walk. Spotting your bag strewn on the floor by the entrance, you bent down to pick it up, but was beaten to it Chanyeol. He hurried to open the door for you with watchful eyes.

You were beyond annoyed but didn’t have the energy to deal with wrestling it from his grasp and opted to exit through the door, knowing by now he was going to follow.

“Are you being serious? Let me take you to the hospital, I really think you should get your head looked at.” He followed behind you like a lost puppy as predicted, and you wanted to scream. 

Why couldn’t he just leave you alone?!

You were about to yell your thoughts at him when two identical uniform clad goofs you recognized as his two buddies who he was almost never seen not by his side came bounding to the two of you, concerned expressions adorning their surprisingly—though not so surprising—handsome faces. 

Both of their gazes were intense, but the one closest to your right was even more so, the furrow of his eyebrows made your heart rate increase, you would not want this man to be upset with you. But you were the victim here!

You recognized their faces, but had never gone through the trouble to remember their names. Your eyes narrowed at the unexpected close proximity as they hounded you with questions.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“Are you dizzy?”

“Dude, I can’t believe you actually hit her with the ball!”

At the last comment, you turned your attention back to the guilty giant on trial, giving him the meanest and hardest glare you could muster up before continuing on your way home. 

“What’s going on? Did you guys fight?” 

“Jongin, she’s sporting a head injury from being hit in the head by a flying soccer ball, genius. Of course she’s upset.”

Ah, so the less intimidating one was Jongin—wait, why did you care?

“But it’s not like you did it on purpose, have you apologized yet?”

“Of course I have! Like a hundred times, I don’t know why she’s suddenly saying that we’re not dating,” Chanyeol piped up behind you, still trailing behind you, albeit at a safe distance. You could imagine his pout in your mind without having to look back at him, convinced his friends were in on this prank he was trying his best to pull off.

Hell, they were probably silently giggling behind your back at this very moment. Mouthing their rehearsed script as to not mess anything up.

You couldn’t trust them, you needed to call Junmyeon. He would assure you this was just a stupid and juvenile attempt to further aggravate you, which reminded you to take your bag back from Chanyeol.

“That’s an indirect way of saying, ‘Let’s break up.’“ Those words were spoken with a laugh.

“Sehun!” The voice you now recognized as Jongin’s whisper-yelled from behind you as you halted in your stride and heaved a sigh. 

Enough.

“Y/n, are you really breaking up with me? I already told you it was an accident and that I’m really sorry. That’s not a reason to break up, right?” His eyes were wide when you turned around, lips parted looking very concerned and stared at you as you stepped closer, looking the exact definition of a kicked puppy that only served as more irritation for you.

“We’re not breaking up,” you huff out exasperatedly, stopping in your stride long enough to take your bag back from Chanyeol’s loose grasp, his shoulders drooping with what seemed like relief judging by the sigh that escaped him and the smile he gazed at you with. That quickly faded with your continuation of, “because we never went out in the first place. I told you, I’m not falling for this.”

Turning back around you felt around in the first pocket for your phone after realizing it wasn’t in your pocket, while they continued to discuss among themselves in quiet voices as you grasped the familiar object, not knowing how it got there but didn’t really mind as long as you held it in your hands. 

“Do you think she should go see a doctor?”

“Yeah, what if it’s amnesia? That has to be why she can’t remember your guys’ relationship!”

“I’m standing right here, and I’m lea—” Your next word cuts off as you press the home button, as your eyes land on the picture of your wallpaper, brows furrowing and heart beginning to thunder in your chest as you tried to make sense of this.

Replacing your wallpaper of one of your favorite artist’s albums was a photo of Chanyeol. He was obviously posing for a picture, eyes closed and a smile on his face, little stickers and emojis of hearts decorating the space around him, your facial features scrunching up into a grimace the longer you eyed the cursed image.

What the hell?

Were you really—the thought made you gag internally—dating Park Chanyeol?

The thought made you laugh out loud at the absurdity of it, causing the guys to look at you with wide eyes. 

Of course you weren’t dating Chanyeol, you would’ve remembered making such a stupid decision. He must’ve been the one to sneak your phone in your backpack after finding a way to change your wallpaper. 

To think you nearly fell for this stupidity.

You studied the photo and sighed, wondering if he was really narcissistic enough to take a picture of himself like this and add hearts on it himself.

Who were you kidding, of course he was.

He was willing to go this far for a stupid prank that wasn’t even working?

Feeling much lighter, you showed them your wallpaper with an unimpressed expression on your face. “Ha ha, very funny. How did you change my wallpaper you creep?”

“Creep?” Sehun couldn’t help but let out a giggle at your words, earning a glare and a slap to the arm from the boys by his side and an eye roll from you, a small huff of pain escaping you as the pain in your head from that move, and moved to enter your passcode and frowned as it told you that you had entered it incorrectly.

Typing the numbers in slowly and carefully, you sighed when it told you it was still incorrect, making Chanyeol freeze in his stride towards you as you shot him a glare, immediately jumping to the conclusion he changed it along with your wallpaper. 

“And you changed my password, too? Unlock it.” You held your phone out to him with a hard face, just wanting to go home and forget about this. 

“I didn’t do anything to your phone, Y/n.” His lips were turned down as he slowly took it from you, then smiled a bit as he gazed down at your screen—most likely at the picture of him. “I didn’t know this was your wallpaper, though. You’re mine, too.” He fished his out from his back pocket and held it out to you, that small grin still placed on his lips, and you frowned at his words, nonetheless taking his phone from his palm.

“Ugh, you damn lovebirds make me sick.” The one you now recognized as Sehun moaned, fake gagging as Jongin laughed along to his words.

Blinking at the picture of you, you couldn’t help the confusion and the bit of panic that hit you. It was a photo you had no recollection of, but you seemed ridiculously happy judging by the wide smile on your face, your face tilted to the side and braced against the palm of your hand, eyes shining brightly as you stared into the camera, bright neon pink blush effects placed on your cheeks with similar heart emojis surrounded your face.

Your breathing became a bit heavier, you continued to look at the picture, heart rate picking up in your chest. 

How did he have this picture? When did he take this? You didn’t remember yourself taking a picture like this, you’d never smiled so big like the one on the screen. 

This was obviously you, why did you have no memory of it? What was going on?

Placing your thumb on the screen of his phone so the screen wouldn’t go dark, you continued to stare lost at the picture, trying to decipher the background, your clothes, anything that could tell you when this was taken.

The bright lights behind you were hazy and unfocused, no major landmarks or buildings behind you to clue you into where the hell you were. 

But you had more pressing thoughts rather than where that picture was taken.

Was it possible the two of you were really dating? That this wasn’t all just a poorly executed endeavor to prank you? Did you really gain amnesia over being hit with the soccer ball and just didn’t remember? How else would him having a picture you didn’t remember being taken—when you could clearly see you willingly posed for it—be explained somewhat logically?

You needed to get out of here. 

“...Y/n? Shit, Y/n? Are you dizzy? You look really pale, let me take you to the hospital, I think you should really get checked out.”

Flinching and shying away from the hand he attempted to lay on your shoulder, you noted once again the flash of hurt that passed through his eyes at your actions, but it wasn’t as if you could help it. 

Your mind was racing with all these confusing thoughts, and his reaction to your reaction didn’t make anything easier for you, only adding onto it if anything, your expression worried as you tore your eyes from him to flit over the empty hallway, attempting to ignore the concerned gazed of Jongin and Sehun.

“No, I’m fine. I’d rather go by myself...” you trailed off, sluggishly handing him his phone back and exchanging it for yours, forgetting that he still hadn’t told you your passcode to unlock it, but you’d figure it out later. 

You just needed to get away from this before you lost your mind, though you felt that it was a bit too late for that, your headache coming back tenfold.

Chanyeol on the other hand, shook his head at your words, a determined expression taking hold on his face and moved with you towards the exit, along with his two lackeys from the sound of six feet following you. “No, I’m not letting you go alone, it’s not safe. You might have a head injury.”

“I have a head injury, thanks to you.” Your harsh tone was a striking contrast from his, your patience running thin from humoring this prank for so long, a weird pang of guilt hitting you as Chanyeol flinched slightly at your words, hearing the halting footsteps of the two behind you.

“Please, Y/n. I would feel better if you let me go with you.” His phrase was delivered with a desperation you just didn’t understand and that fact made you even more upset.

“I’m not going to the hospital with you, I don’t even know you or like you. I’ll just call Junmyeon when I go home and see if he can take me.” Your words were uttered in nothing less than a frustrated growl, causing the words Chanyeol was going to say to die in his throat, his pleading and anxious expression transformed into a much harsher one.

His eyebrows narrowed and his mouth formed a tight line as the two of you continued to stare at each other, neither one blinking as if willing the other one to give up first. Then a sigh escaped him, “Fine.” With that he marched ahead of you in angry steps, leaving you behind to stare at him, not wanting to examine the feeling in your chest as you watched him walk away at your words.

Sehun whizzed past your figure without a second thought, running after him. Yet for some reason Jongin hesitated by your side, noticing your slight wince and how you clutched your head, exhaling a steadying breath. “He’s just worried, you didn’t need to yell at him like that.”

That wasn’t yelling, you thought. But you didn’t voice your thoughts and said instead, “Regardless of what you guys tell me, I don’t recall ever being in any type of relationship with that jackass. I’ll be fine getting home by myself, I’m not a little kid.”

His expressions changed many times during your speech, and he seemed like he wanted to something but chose not to, opting with, “Just text us when you get home and what the doctor says, we’ll be worried about you.”

Your brows furrowed at his words and followed slowly behind him towards the exit, nodding a bit in thanks as he held the door open and looked back a few times as he stood in the same spot, like he was making sure you got home all right without being overly pushy like Chanyeol was.

His words confused you, since when were you two so close?

Your mother greeted you from the kitchen and had audibly gasped in horror when she saw the giant bruise forming on your temple, questions of what happened and are you okay all jumbled into an incoherent stream as he ushered you right back outside, stopping to let the backpack fall from your shoulders to the doorway before sitting you in the passenger seat as she called your father on speaker, telling him you were going to the hospital and that she would give him more details when she could.

Since head injuries and head traumas were taken very seriously, you were taken in to get some tests done that were more meager than they were annoying. You had wanted to get into the doctor’s office earlier, but now all you wanted to do was go to sleep and forget this whole confusing and tiring day happened, relieved once they told you they weren’t going to keep you awake, certain you didn’t have a concussion, but were puzzled at the fact you lost memories of only thing; or person, chalking it up to temporary amnesia.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, okay?” The handsome doctor Mr. Jung told you as he laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder—and for some reason, you were reminded of how you shot down Chanyeol when he tried the same thing, that same pang of guilt hitting you right in the chest. “You’re an intelligent young lady, I know this must be driving you insane, and it might feel as if you’re actually going insane.” The two of you share a small laugh and you nod, wondering if he could read minds as well.

“Just remember to rest and to not push yourself to remember too hard. Take part in hobbies you enjoy or take a nice walk outside. If you experience any pain, feel free to come back for another check up to make sure everything is doing fine. Okay? Okay, I’ll see you no sooner than two weeks I hope. Feel better!”

Did you really have amnesia? It would make sense to trust your doctors words, even your mother was surprise you didn’t ‘remember’ your relationship with Chanyeol, apparently the two of you had been dating for around six months.

You about spit out and choked on the water she had you sipping on after the two of you had gotten home a good almost three hours later, well into the night and your father was out at the store getting the prescribed painkillers your doctor had prescribed you. She even told you he had called her in a panic while you were getting your tests done, begging for an update, and she told him that you were fine but that it was maybe best if he stayed away for at least tonight. 

But your mind was stuck on the six months part.

Six months? Surely your mother wouldn’t lie to you, so then it must be true, no matter how much something inside you told you it wasn’t. You opened your mouth to ask her some questions when there was loud pounding on the front door before the person remembered they had a key and let themselves in. 

Junmyeon came barreling in, eyes locking with yours and immediately sprinted in your direction, hands coming to grasp your shoulders as he looked you over with wide eyes. “Are you okay? You remember me, right? There’s no way you’d forget about me... right?”

“Of course I remember you, you dummy. And I’m fine... mostly. Just here icing my bruise.” You took his hands off your shoulders and motioned towards the ice pack sitting on the kitchen counter.

“You’re not fine, you have amnesia.” Junmyeon told you and you rolled your eyes, but stiffened when he said, “Chanyeol called me earlier.”

Suddenly becoming very aware of your mothers presence, you tilted your head in the direction of your room, smiling tightly to her as she gazed encouragingly back at you.

“Chanyeol called me about an hour after school ended, saying he hit you in the head with a soccer ball and that you couldn’t remember him or something like that, I don’t know, he was freaking about it I couldn’t really understand him all that well on the phone, saying that you two weren’t speaking at the moment and asked how you were doing, I just updated him vaguely about five minutes ago thanks from the details I got from your mom. She already gave him an update at the hospital, but I guess he just wanted to be sure. He told me he’s called you like twenty times and you haven’t answered.” He tells you, eyeing you as you pat your back pocket at the remembrance of your phone in your back pocket, taking a seat at the edge of your bed as you followed his actions. 

“Which I guess makes sense since you don’t really remember him, but you could at least text the poor man back and tell him your doctors visit went fine and you’re home safe. You might think you’re strangers, but he really loves you.”

Your brows furrowed with his lecture, ignoring his last five words and played with your phone, sighing as you stared at the picture of Chanyeol as your wallpaper. “I don’t know the passcode, I think he changed it while I was knocked out.” You mumbled quietly into your chest as you refused to look at him.

His hand swipes it from your grasp and you watch as he types on your phone, not expecting him to be able to decipher whatever random code Chanyeol must have put to have your mouth hang wide open in shock as he hands it to you once again, your home screen in full view.

“What the hell? How did you know what it was?”

“He didn’t change it, you created this passcode. It’s his birthday.” He said simply.

“Chanyeol’s birthday?” You placed your phone back in his hands to re-enter the passcode so you could change it to something you would actually remember, opting to change your annoying wallpaper later.

“Yep.”

“I’m really dating him?” You had to clarify, even though you’ve been told you were by literally everyone, letting your phone drop onto the bed in your lap, questioning if you were really the type of person to put in your partners birthday as a passcode, please—you so hoped that wasn’t you.

“Yep.”

You groaned. “Why? Do you not remember how mean he was to me?”

“What?”

“Oh come on, those snarky comments he’d always say to me in the halls? That was not flirting, I don’t care what you say.”

“What are you talking about?” Junmyeon’s face was scrunched up in confusion at your words, and your face scrunched up at his words and were about to clarify, when he continued. “Y/n, I think you’re remembering things differently, or else you had a weird dream yesterday that’s got you confused after your accident, but Chanyeol has never said anything even remotely mean to you. He’s basically been in love with you since you two met earlier this year.”

“What?” Now it was your turn to be confused.

“Okay, let me fill you in a bit since you can’t remember for yourself how the two of you started dating.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he shuffled closer a bit, looking like the epitome of seriousness as he stared at you, then awkwardly avoided eye contact as he began to fill you in on your lost memories.

“Let me see,” he murmured with pursed lips as he thought about where to start, a slight furrow to his brow as he began, “Um, you two shared a few classes together last semester, I think—yeah, you did. Because I remember you rambling to me about this ‘cute guy’ that you shared classes with.”

You strangely did remember that, but you had thought it was only that one class, with Ms. Lee? But along with that memory, came the onslaught of his comments that would continue for the next months that angered as well as embarrassed you, so something was not adding up. 

“Wait—“ you held a hand up to pause him, squinting your eyes at him. “I know, we literally had this conversation earlier today.”

Junmyeon’s brows furrowed as he blinked at you, eyes narrowing as he studied you a bit more closely. “Y/n, we’ve barely talked at all today, and it certainly wasn’t about you and Chanyeol. I was busy tutoring, remember? Oh right—” he paused to giggle at his own joke, “the amnesia.”

You in turn did not find his mediocre attempt at a joke amusing and you noted internally that today was in fact Thursday, one of the two days of the week he tutored for some extra cash, his words seeming like they should make sense or strike a chord with your messed up memory, but you couldn’t shake this—weird—feeling. 

But Junmyeon continued on without seeing your turmoil. “Then maybe a few weeks after classes had begun, he approached me out of the blue and outright asked me if we were dating.” He started laughing at the admission and your eyes narrowed as you experienced a bit of deja vu—certain you had a conversation of this manor before. 

“And I told him there was no way in hell that would happen,” he paused to gauge your reaction and you scowled at him to which he sent you an over dramatic finger heart. “Sorry, you know I love you, but you’re not my type.”

“You’re not my type, either. Every time I look at you I still see naked Junmyeon from the seventh grade.” You retorted and shivered in response to the image you conjured up with your spoken words and giggled when he jumped back.

“Yah! You should’ve known to knock by then, especially if I told you I was getting ready to shower.”

“Who doesn’t lock the door when they’re about to shower?” You smiled as you spied the barest hint of pink gracing his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“Whatever. We’re not getting into this right now.” He glared at you, seemingly blaming you for getting off track and you shrugged and he cleared his throat and continued. “Where was I? Oh yeah, and he seemed really relieved and said thanks and left. Then you told me that you gave him your number a few days later and the rest is history.” 

You blinked at his triumphant expression, wondering why he was acting like he did this big thing, when all he really filled you in on was something you could’ve gotten from almost anybody. “You told me nothing.” Rolling your eyes, you shook your head at him and eyed the phone in your lap silently.

He shrugged from his spot across from you. “You guys like each other—no, I’m pretty sure you guys are crazy in love with each other. I don’t really know much about anything else about your relationship details, other than you guys deserve to go jail from the amount of cutesy shit you pull out in public.”

It was unsettling to have him talk about you about events that you didn’t remember and decided to distract yourself with the phone that seemed so foreign and held it in your hands.

Your eyes grew wide at the number of calls and texts you received, your lock screen keeping your messages and caller ID’s hidden and you typed in your new passcode, studying the picture on your home screen you were registering for the first time, unlike the first time when you were so fixated on changing your passcode.

Again, it was Chanyeol, but it also had you in it. The two of you looked like to be in front of a building that you didn’t recognize, wearing casual street style clothing and had your arms around each other, cheesy wide smiles on your faces as you looked at the camera.

Seeing a picture with you in it, yet having no recollection made your skin crawl a bit and wondered if you could find anymore.

You grow silent as you somehow find yourself clicking on your gallery, scrolling through what seemed like hundreds upon hundreds of pictures of you and Chanyeol. Varying locations and all different types of photos greeted your vision; ones where you two smiled at each other, faux seriousness, ones where the two of you gave each other piggyback rides, ones at the movies, the arcade, the fair, wrapped up in each others embrace, there was even one where you had your arms around him after what seemed like a pretty intense soccer match, his hair matted to his forehead with most probably was sweat.

It was definitely you in the pictures you were staring at, but it seemed like a completely different person. This person on the screen looked so happy, so content, so carefree. That wasn’t you. Your gaze shifted to Chanyeol on the screen, always by your side, with his arms wrapped securely around you. Were you the one that put that wide smile on his face? So many memories shown, but you couldn’t account for any of them.

“Look don’t worry about it too much, okay? It sucks that you got hit in the head with a soccer ball and that you got amnesia from it,” he starts to chuckle in between words and tries to calm himself once he sees just how not impressed you are with his amusement. Clearing his throat, he tries again, “But you were really happy with Chanyeol, you were always telling me that he was the love of your life and that you were going to marry him one day, it was really disgusting.” A small smile came onto his lips at his words, seemingly reminiscing in the past.

“And you don’t have to jump back in if you don’t want, okay? Just... Just text him, at least. Tell him that you’re okay, he’s really worried and I had to convince him at least a dozen times to not stalk your house. I know that hearing you’re okay from you will really help calm him.”

Remembering all the missed calls and messages you had waiting for you, your eyes widened at the majority being from Chanyeol, some from Yerim and Kyungsoo, and weirdly, Sehun and Jongin.

Eyes furrowing at the name you had Chanyeol saved under, you began reading through his numerous texts.

Chan❤️

[3:40 PM] i’m so sorry y/n i shouldn’t have left you to go home all by yourself, even if jongin did it on my behalf. I just felt so guilty and upset at the way you were reacting to me

[3:43 PM] saying that we weren’t dating and that you didn’t like me, and refusing my help like i was a stranger

[3:46 PM] and you looked so scared and confused, i’m so sorry again, it really was an accident i would never hurt you on purpose, you know that, right?

[3:47 PM] I love you so much, please be okay

[3:55 PM] Just please answer your phone or answer my texts so i know you’re okay

[4:05 PM] I called Junmyeon and he said he didn’t know anything about you going to the hospital???

[4:00 PM] Please tell me someone took you

[4:00 PM] Your mom filled me in a bit, saying it’d be best if I stayed away so I wouldn’t stress you out more.

[4:01 PM] Which is smart.

[4:02 PM] The last thing I want is to stress you out even more

[4:03 PM] Which means I should probably stop sending all these messages.

[4:05 PM] Remember to get lots of rest and stay hydrated and to get plenty of protein and nutrients, okay?

[5:30 PM] If you could, please just let me know that you’re doing okay. Please.

Your lips quirk up a bit at the absurdity of everything and nodded to appease your friend, thinking that it might be the least you could do. 

Chanyeol did seem genuinely concerned, after all. 

Seeing you nod seemed to please him and he patted your shoulder twice before standing up, telling you that he’d better go home and tell his parents and Jooyeon that you were fine.

“Jooyeon?”

“My younger sister?”

“Oh, of course.” You shook your head and he laughed at your silly question and told you to get some rest and he’d text you tomorrow, you had the Friday off as orders from the doctor so you had a long weekend to look forward to.

But you couldn’t help but frown as he closed the door softly behind him, hearing him say goodbye to your mother before he left your house.

You could’ve sworn he had an older brother, not a younger sister.

tag list: @rashidamesrur @totallynerdstuff @organic-hemp @etaerealboy @yasmini24 @imlonelysometimeshappy @rpavlxk​ 

this was so much fun to write, i didn’t expect this story to be as long as its turning out but im happy w it nonetheless! didn’t want this to be a monster lol so i am splitting it into 3 parts!!!and i hope you all like it! as always i love feedback so pls show this some love <33 if you’d like to be added to the taglist just say so down in the comments or shoot me a dm!

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Family

Leviathan x gn!MC

Words - 3215

Content warnings - angst, family issues, lots of comfort, a sprinkling of humor

Prompt/Inspiration - none

Summary -  Levi learns why you didn’t want him to meet your family.

AO3

Family had always been a bit of a sore subject for Levi. He may have 6 brothers that he would have been willing to do anything for - die for, if it came to it - but he still felt like the odd one out. The black sheep.

Asmodeus had Satan. Belphie had Beel. And Lucifer was well, Lucifer. And even if Mammon was easily the most picked on of them all, he still frequently hung out with Asmo and did whatever it was that normies do when they go out.

But for Levi? He was largely just left to his own devices.

At least, that was before you came. Now that you were here, he found himself able to spend more time with his brothers. And you helped him find common ground so he could share his interests with them too. Mammon in particular had gotten a lot closer to him and hung out with him far more frequently. Levi was still the undisputed otaku in the family...but Mammon? Well, he had his moments.

When Levi found out you would be going to the human realm to visit your family, he was curious. His only experience with human families came from his anime and manga that he’d import to the Devildom, so he wanted to see how close those things were to reality. At least that’s what he told you. You were skeptical about his motives. And also concerned about the whole “meeting people” thing - but he assured you if it was just your parents, he could manage.

You initially told him that you thought it best that you go alone, but after seeing how hurt he was you quickly changed your mind. It wasn’t that you didn’t want your family to meet Levi, you weren’t trying to hide him. But you didn’t want him to meet them . They just weren’t the sort of people you wanted to spend much time with. To put it simply, it was a miracle that you turned out as well as you did.

The only reason that you were going back at all was because Lord Diavolo insisted. He thought it would be a wonderful idea. The next step in bringing harmony to the realms. The human exchange student and their demon boyfriend. You tried to explain to him that your family was not the understanding and accepting sort, but he was confident that if you could win Lucifer over, some humans shouldn’t be a problem at all. Totally ignoring the fact that you had already spent the majority of your life with these people and had not had any progress thus far.

You had tried your best to manage Levi’s expectations. You didn’t want to make him too anxious about the visit but you also didn’t want him to get caught completely off guard either. You briefly considered giving him a list of subjects to avoid, just so he didn’t draw anymore attention to himself than necessary. But you knew that wouldn’t be fair to him, and he was self conscious enough as it was - you didn’t want him thinking you were embarrassed to be seen with him.

As you pulled into the driveway of your family home, you stole a glance at Levi. He was white as a sheet and bouncing his leg up and down nervously, taking deep breaths to calm himself. You reached out and gently placed your hand on his own that was resting on his leg. He jumped a little, having gotten a bit lost in his thoughts, but soon gave your hand a squeeze in return.

“Maybe this was a bad idea…” he said.

“You really don’t have to, you know. We could just hide out in a hotel and tell Lord Diavolo everything went great…”

“No! I-I-I want to do this.”

You gave Levi a small smile. You really had to appreciate how hard he was trying. He wanted to impress you. This was supposed to be what boyfriends did, right? Visit their partner’s family? Bond with their father over drinks? Win the heart of their mother with his gentlemanly demeanor? He could do that. He was sure. He had to do it. Levi wanted to stay in your life for a long, long time, and this was the next logical step, wasn’t it?

“Alright, but if it gets to be too crazy for you, just let me know.”

He nodded, smiling back at you and giving your hand another squeeze before climbing out of the car. As you two walked hand in hand up the driveway, you started to notice that something wasn’t quite right. There was a new car in the driveway you didn’t recognize, for starters. And you heard the raised voices of a rather large group of people talking. By the time you reached the front door, you were positive there wasn’t just your parents here.

“Umm Levi, I really…” you had started to explain to him your suspicions, when the front door suddenly opened and your mother greeted you, arms open wide.

“OH MY BABY! YOU'RE HOME! I watched you walking up the driveway but I just couldn’t WAIT!”

Levi watched in horror as this woman wrapped you up in a tight hug, screeching out a greeting that made his skin crawl and his blood run cold. Why did she have to be so... loud ? It didn’t take long before she had released you and finally turned her sights on him. He gulped as he prepared for his introduction, but thankfully, she was much more reserved this time.

“Well ain’t you just the cutest thing,” she cooed, pinching his cheek, “You must be Levi, right? C’mon in the both of y’all. The family is in the backyard while Daddy is working on the grill. We’re having barbecue tonight!”

“The family…? No, Mom, you didn’t…”

“Oh hush. We haven’t seen you in forever! Of course we had to invite the rest of the family. It’s not like we ever know when we’re gonna see you again…”

For a brief, fleeting moment Levi had started to think maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. Your mother was loud and shrill...but she seemed nice enough. She called him cute, after all. But when he turned to look at you after learning that the “rest” of your family had been invited, his smile started to waver. You looked like you were about to cry one minute, and then like you were ready to spit hellfire the next. For all the headaches he and his brothers had caused you - he had never seen you this upset before.

Eventually you plastered a smile on your face and accepted your fate, reminding yourself that they hadn’t done anything yet. Maybe they would behave for once and there wouldn’t be a repeat of The Holidays ‘09™️ where half your family ended up at the local urgent care clinic before the night was out because someone decided a food fight with flaming marshmallows was a good idea. (And it had quickly progressed to much more than marshmallows on fire)

You adjusted your grip on Levi’s hand, lacing your fingers together, determined to not let him get separated from you, and followed after your mother through the house. Levi gave your hand a small squeeze, in his own attempt to reassure you, because as perfect as your fake smile was, there was no hiding just how tense you were. You turned to look at him giving him a small, genuine smile before mouthing, “I’m sorry,” as you stepped outside into the yard.

————

To your great surprise, things really weren’t that bad at first. You walked around and introduced Levi to the various cousins and aunts and uncles that had arrived, and everyone had been mostly polite and courteous. He looked a little worn out, but nothing like you had imagined. You were also able to keep him safely by your side, so there weren’t any opportunities for your more mischievous family members to cause trouble. By the time the food was ready, you were starting to let your guard down a tiny bit.

And that, you would soon learn, was a grave mistake.

Your family had gathered around the large picnic table in the backyard, and lunch was being served. You had managed to get a seat near the end so Levi was not sandwiched in between you and your family members, and the rowdier of your cousins were seated at the further end, far away from the two of you. You were listening to your family chat, occasionally exchanging touches and smiles with Levi to check in with him, when the conversation suddenly shifted to you.

“So dear,” your mother started, “when are you going to get serious about getting married?”

“Pardon…?!” you choked out, as you desperately grabbed for the glass of water in front of you to clear your throat.

“Yeah hun, you’re coming to that age when you should start thinking about your family. You need to start looking for a suitable partner,” one of your aunts chimed in.

Your face flushed scarlet, and you felt your stomach flip, “I’m good. I already have a boyfriend. I’m not looking for another,” you finally managed to answer, hoping to make it sound like there was no room for argument.

Your mother, however, did not take the hint.

“Do you mean him dear? He’s very cute but he doesn’t exactly look like the responsible type.”

“Hey son, what’s it you doing for a living?”, your father asked, leveling his gaze on Levi, who had been trying to ignore the conversation.

You felt Levi flinch beside you and you shifted so you were sitting just a little bit closer to him, your legs now pressing together. Oh how much you wished you could have just grabbed him and run right now. You were so stupid for doing this. Arrogant even, for thinking things were going to be fine with you there to deflect the awkward questions.

“Dad, that’s really not something we need to talk about right now.”

“Mind your father,” your mother warned, “Let the poor boy answer.” All eyes then focused on Levi, waiting for his response.

In that moment, Levi really wished he could just turn invisible. He hadn’t taken his eyes off his own plate yet, but he could feel everyone else staring at him. He felt you shift closer to him, and while he did appreciate the reassuring touch from you, it did nothing to quell the anxiety bubbling up in his stomach.

“Umm...I’m...a...I’m a Devil...errr...YouTuber…”

“A what now?”

“A YouTuber. He makes videos of gameplay and walkthroughs, things like that. He’s really good at it too,” you explained, smiling at Levi, hoping that your little bit of encouragement would help soothe his nerves.

“Well hun, that ain’t a real job.”

“Your mother’s right. You need to find someone with a stable career that will be able to contribute to your family. You don’t want to be stuck carin’ for a mooch, like your Auntie Tammy do ya?”, your father asked, followed by snickers from your cousins at the jab towards your conspicuously absent aunt.

“I’m fine. That’s between me and Levi.”

“You can’t really be serious, dear.”

“I am.”

“Hahaha, but he looks like such a dweeb!”, cackled one of your cousins, from the very same rowdy bunch of cousins you had tried best to avoid all evening.

“Watch it,” you snapped, tightening your grip on Levi’s hand. This was going downhill. And fast.

“Don’t talk to your cousin that way.”

“I’m uhh...I’m going to the bathroom…” Levi mumbled as he stood up and made a hasty retreat inside the house, having finally had enough of your family’s judgmental looks and insults.

“And you wonder why I don’t come by very often…”

“Now hold on, what is that supposed to mean?” your mother asked.

“It means, y’all are a rude bunch of assholes and I’d rather chew glass than sit through another meal with you.”

And cue your mother’s crocodile tears.

“Look what you did! Apologize to your mother now!” your father said, his tone sharper than it had been before, as he struggled to maintain his composure.

“Sure, after you apologize to me and my boyfriend.”

“Apologize for what? We just want what’s best for you. Why can’t you see that?” your mom said, sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with a napkin.

“Because we’ve had this conversation a thousand times. You don’t approve of my choices. You’ve mocked every partner of mine that’s had the misfortune of meeting you. And frankly, I’d rather be living in hell than spend another moment here.”

And with that you stood up, ignoring the shouts and your mothers sobs as you went on the hunt for Levi, whom you were sure was not going to be returning to the table anytime soon. When you finally found him, he had taken refuge in the small upstairs bathroom, hoping that anyone who may be looking to use the restroom would go to the downstairs one first and leave him undisturbed.

“Levi?” you knocked on the door, “Can I come in?” You heard some sniffing and shuffling around before the door finally opened, revealing a very red faced Levi who was trying (and failing) to hide behind his bangs. You quickly slipped inside, locking the door behind you. When you turned back to Levi, he was sitting on top of the large bathroom vanity, his feet dangling over the edge, and you didn’t waste another minute going to him and wrapping your arms around his neck, as he slipped his around your waist.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” you said, over and over again as you hugged him, “They’re a bunch of angry, miserable people. Please don’t listen to them.”

Levi pulled you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He took a deep breath, inhaling your scent, and trying to distract himself from his chaotic thoughts. This was not how today was supposed to go. It was supposed to be his chance to get to know your parents, but from the moment your mother answered the door things had started to go south. Why hadn’t he listened to you when you suggested spending the day in hiding?

And what was going to happen now? Was this it? Did this really mean there was no future for you and him? Of course there wouldn’t be one. He was foolish to have ever thought there could be. Your parents weren’t wrong when they said he didn’t have a real job. And what did he even know about supporting a human family anyways? Why did he think he’d be able to take care of you at all? You probably wanted someone who knew what they were doing. Not someone who you’d end up caring for.

“I love you so much. Please don’t listen to them. Please.”

“...they’re not wrong though...I...I don’t have a real job…”

“Levi, look at me,” you said, pulling back slightly and taking his face in your hands, gently turning him to look at you, “You’re one of seven demon lords of the Devildom, Grand Admiral of The Hell’s Navy. I think you’re ok in the job and prestige department.” You smiled at him, and he gave you a small, weak smile in return.

“Even my family would have been impressed with that if I could have told them,” you teased, before leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, “Besides, there is nothing wrong with being a You...DevilTuber anyways. You’re good at it, and you enjoy it. That’s all that matters.”

“You’re not worried about being stuck with your loser boyfriend who uses up all your time and money for his failed hobbies and selfish interests and…”

“No, Levi. I’m not worried about that. For starters, I don’t even have a loser boyfriend,” you said, this time kissing Levi softly on his lips, “I have a very talented boyfriend whom I’m very proud of.”

Levi blushed at your compliment before pulling you closer and resting his head on your shoulder. This day sucked. He was exhausted. And he really just wanted to go home and go to sleep. But at least you were here with him, and hadn’t left him alone to deal with the pack of wolves that was your family.

“Are they always like that?”

“My family?” you asked, wrapping your arms around Levi’s neck again and kissing the top of his head, “Yeah. Pretty much. That’s why I don’t see them often.”

He finally understood why you had been so anxious about this whole trip, and why you stayed glued to his side the entire afternoon. You weren’t worried about him embarrassing you or himself - you were worried about your vicious relatives attacking your boyfriend. How many other friends and partners of yours had they mistreated? he wondered.

“I thought since you were so nice, they couldn’t be that bad…”

“Pffft. No. They definitely could be that bad. It’s said that kids can go one of two ways - they either turn out just like their parents, or the complete opposite and use their parents as the blueprint for everything they don’t want to be in life.

I am obviously part of the latter category.”

“Good.”

You laughed at Levi’s reply, glad he seemed to be feeling a little bit better. His head was still resting on your shoulder and you could tell he had reached his threshold for human interaction for the next decade, at least. You started to comb your fingers through his hair, snuggling him close. Levi’s arms tightened around you, letting more of his weight rest on you as he started to relax.

“So, do you want to go ahead and go back to the Devildom?...or do you want to find the fanciest hotel around and spend the night there on Lord Diavolo’s dime?”

“...what kind of fancy hotel?”

“The kind that offers 24/7 room service and will cook up anything you can imagine.

Oh, and, can’t forget to mention this, the kind your brothers don’t know about so they can’t interrupt us.”

“...that sounds good.”

“It’s the least Lord Diavolo can do for us I think, after forcing us on this awful trip.”

“Could we rent movies too?” Levi had turned his head to look at you, his eyes sparkling as he started to remember some really good anime movies that were currently only available in the human realm.

“Oh definitely. As many as you like,” you smiled, giving him a quick kiss.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get out of here before your mom tries to hug you and starts screeching again.”

Laughter filled the small bathroom as the two of you began giggling at his comment, taking turns shushing one another in an attempt to keep quiet. It didn’t matter what your family thought about your life choices, or whether they judged Levi “worthy” of your time. All that mattered to you was that you were able to enjoy moments like this, with your best friend and partner. And you weren’t about to give that up.