#i’m just so tired of the yelling. how loud can a humans voice even get jesus fucking christ
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#vent#vent post#cw vent#cw vent post#i wanna vent but. i don’t even know what to say#maybe i’ll just go write something instead. like. fiction. a story.#get the pain out by putting it into a story instead.#it worked with Paralyzed. and it seemed to be appreciated by/helpful to a number of other people as well. maybe it’ll work again#don’t know if i can though. brain just wants to clock out for the rest of the day#but i can’t vent abt this here cause i do that enough already and it just makes people feel sorry for me#i appreciate the concern i just. i don’t want to drag anyone else down anymore#i’m the way that i am because other people couldn’t keep their trauma to their selves. or deal with it in appropriate ways#so maybe i’m not any better than them if i keep subjecting people to all my negative emotions every time i’m upset#like. where does the cycle end. i feel like a container that people keep dumping their life’s waste in and i just have to. hold onto it#because if i go and dump it somewhere else then it’s just someone else’s problem to clean up#what do i do with it all though. it’s making me sick.#how do i process it and purify it into something that can safely be put back into the world when i feel like i’m going to explode#i’m just so tired of the yelling. how loud can a humans voice even get jesus fucking christ#i don’t know why it’s so terrifying. they’re just words. i mean they’re not. they’re not baseless threats. ive learned that from experience#anyways i’m sharing too much again. i gotta stop mentioning so many specifics on this blog cause one day someone irl will find it#and ohhhhhh the fallout that would cause! terrifying#so i should. choose my words more carefully and be a bit less specific in these vent posts going forward#anyways. today was going great until i got triggered pretty badly again so. i guess i can kids the rest of my plans goodbye for today#i’ve been productive for 12 hours now though so. good enough i guess.#still really wanted to be able to enjoy my evening and be Social but i don’t think i can anymore. i’ll try again tomorrow#i did manage to pack the work i had planned for the next three days all into today though so that’s good.#helps free up a bit of my packed schedule for the rest of this month. hopefully i’ll be able to make good use of the extra time#but knowing myself i might just squander it on something unhealthy and self-indulgent#whadaya want from me im just a tired little creature trying to survive in a harsh environment#so sometimes doing my best is ignoring everything and sitting alone in the dark eating pasta while watching ppl play shitty horror games
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i. how long could we be a sad song, til we were too far gone to bring back to life?
luke castellan x apollo!reader
warnings: just read at your own risk, editing this was hard as fuck so bear with me. this has a lot of swearing, ANGST, and a new character! This is part one of chapter two, by the way!
thank you so much to my girls, @lilmaymayy and @jennapancake 🥺🫶🏻 for without them, i would be lost ‼️
hope you guys love it! (i put my blood, sweat, and tears into this-) love you guys!!!
ps: look out for clues!!
10.5k words
The smell of your mother’s freshly baked brownies invades your nostrils—a scent you haven’t smelled in a long time—which makes you feel nostalgic for a bit, as if your mother was in the room. Heated sounds of arguing coming from outside closed doors snap you fully awake, eyes fluttering open in response. You try to sit up, but your body fails you—tired and worn out. Your eyes scanned around the room, you were in the infirmary, no doubt about that. Bottles of nectar and cubes of ambrosia—the source of the comforting smell—sitting on a nearby table with your guitar sitting in a chair beside it.
“Let me the fuck in, Chris!” You hear Luke’s voice from outside, annoyance evident in his tone. “She’s my best friend! Move away from the goddamn door!”
Clarisse scoffs loudly. “Best friend? Best friend? You ditched her to go make out with that blonde smartass!”
You wanted to stand up and eavesdrop on their conversation, but your body wasn’t letting you. Clarisse was obviously talking about Lacy, and how Luke bailed on you last minute. Chris probably told her that, and besides, it’s not like she doesn’t know that I have feelings for that dumb little shit. You wondered what would happen if you grabbed another few cubes of ambrosia, maybe Lee or whoever tended to you while you were out cold didn’t shove a cube down your throat yet. You hesitated, you were a healer—cabin seven’s finest, for crying out loud!—you should know better than to give in to whatever your brain tells you to do.
“Do not call Lacy that,” Luke growls at Clarisse. “I asked Y/n if it was okay, and she said it was! I wouldn't have gone if she wasn’t okay-”
“If it wasn’t for your dumbassery she wouldn’t be in here in the first place, you stupid dumb fuck!” Clarisse growled back, matching Luke’s intensity like an echo.
“I asked her and she said it was fucking fine! Get that in your damn thick skull!”
“Ha! Look who’s talking!” Clarisse snapped, despite being younger, she was a firecracker in her own right. “Acting all high and mighty, when this is all your fault! Did you even know that she went down to the docks, after you acted all white knight just to spend time with that know-it-all little shit? Huh? With an ungodly amount of food meant for the both of you!”
“Stop. Calling. Lacy. Fucking. Names!”
What on earth is happening out there? You shake your head, taking a deep breath, forcing yourself to sit with everything you got. You wince at the throbbing pain in your head, leaning against the wall, trying to get your shit together before grabbing a cube of ambrosia and shoving it down your throat despite that nagging voice inside your head telling you no, like a broken record.
“Y/n is unconscious, for crying out loud!” Clarisse yells, anger spewing like lava from the rock climbing wall down by the amphitheater. “And all you can fucking think of is Lacy!?”
“That’s why I’m literally here, Clarisse!” Luke snaps, rubbing his arm. “I’m here to see my best friend!”
“That girl inside,” Clarisse jerks her head towards the door behind her, anger fuming out of her like cigar smoke. “Is the kindest and most loving person out here at camp—literal sunshine trapped in a human’s body! She has always been at your side, and you repay her by ditching her to make out with a girl whom, might I just add, you’ve just talked to within the goddamn DAY and proceeded to ignore your said best friend.”
“I’m here now-”
Clarisse cuts him off. “Leave.” She pointed down the hallway, to the door out of the Big House. “Before I lose my shit and chop your head off and use it as a fucking bowling ball with your limbs as the damned pins.”
“Luke,” You weakly call out, loud enough to interrupt what could’ve been Clarisse acting out on her intrusive thoughts, your voice hoarse and dry as if you’ve been stuck in a desert without anything to drink.
“Y/n,” Luke breathes out, the sound of your voice calming him down as he pushes past the two. As soon as the door opens, you see him smiling at you—that mischievous smile you’ve learned to love the past three years. He then steps forward, ignoring the glares Clarisse and Chris were giving him. But before he can even get close, you fall back into your bed—steaming, as if you were burning like a forest fire. Luke immediately rushes to your side, sitting on the bed, holding your hand in his. Worry and fear was visible in his features, the scar on the right side of his face resembling tears running down his cheek as fear slowly crept into his mind. “Fuck, you’re burning, melody.”
“What?” Chris asks, frozen in place—worry replacing glare he once had. “I thought Lee already gave her ambrosia!”
“He did!” Clarisse says, seemingly forgetting her anger towards the older Hermes boy as she rushes to your side. “Gave her two cubes!”
“Call Lee, Michael, or Dawn! Now!” Luke barks at the two, looking around the room for anything to help cool you down, even though Luke knew that a fever like this wasn’t easily fixable by a cool rag or something. “Now!”
Clarisse immediately scrambles to get your siblings, looking like she had seen a ghost, dark curls following her every move.
Chris then stares Luke down, seemingly getting over his initial worry for you as his glare intensifies by the second. “Get out.” he spits out harshly. “Get the fuck out before I forget that you’re my brother.”
Luke looks at his brother, matching his intense glare. “I don’t give a damn, Rodriguez,” he hisses, refusing to leave your side like a clinging child.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.” Chris enunciates each word with venom, his eyes flashing with hate and anger.
“She called me! She wants me! She needs me!” Luke let go of your hand, standing up to face his brother as he tried to argue, but Chris wasn’t having it.
“Go fuck Lacy for all we care,” Chris pushes him by the chest—despite being a full two inches smaller than his older brother. “Since you chose her over your best friend.”
Before Luke could even react, your siblings—Lee and Dawn—came rushing into the room, just in time to prevent gods knows what. Luke moved to the side, giving your brother and sister room to work, while still glaring at his brother. How dare he? The counselor of cabin eleven thought, forcing himself to calm back down for your sake. He felt miserable, that he had caused this. He wanted nothing more than to see you be happy, healthy, and well, you.
Luke averted his gaze away from his brother, chocolate brown eyes helplessly staring at your unconscious form. You looked so worn out, almost as if someone had drained every bit of your life force.
“Get your punk ass out of here right now,” Clarisse hissed, yanking Luke’s arm, trying to drag him out.
“Let go of me, you little shit,” Luke growled, like a lion defending its territory. “I’m not leaving her-”
“Get out!” Lee snapped, looking over his shoulder with a murderous look in his eyes. “Before I give you all hives, boils, anything available in the book!”
“But-”
“Get out!”
And with that, Chris and Clarisse dragged Luke out of the Infirmary.
“Let me go!” Luke struggled in their hold, every cell of his body wanting—needing—to get back to his girl, his melody. “S-She needs me!”
“Calm the fuck down, for Christ’s sake!” Chris sighs, letting go of his hold on his older brother. “Even if we both let you go, Lee and Dawn aren’t going to let you inside, you stupid dumb fuck!”
“Damn you, damn all of you!” Luke angrily yells at Chris and Clarisse, and probably at everyone else.
“Shut the hell up, Castellan!” Clarisse yelled, annoyed at his stupid behavior. “Stop acting like you’re the victim here, you whiny bitch!”
Luke ran a hand through his curls in complete frustration, muttering incoherent words as he tried hard not to pull all his hair out of his scalp.
“Get a grip, dumbass!“ Clarisse threatened, on the verge of acting on her intrusive thoughts. “Before I smack some sense into your sorry ass!”
Surprisingly, Luke didn’t fight or argue back. It wasn’t that he couldn’t fight back, but this girl in front of him was ruthless. More than anyone else at camp. And if she threatens someone, there’s a ninety nine percent that she will do whatever she says.
Luke sighed, quickly fixing his composure, glaring at Chris and Clarisse for a minute at most, before turning his heel and leaving the Big House, not even bothered to take a look back.
“Melody, I love you,” Luke whispers in your ear. “Please be mine, I promise to never hurt you again.”
“Luke,” You sigh, looking him straight in his eyes—deep brown that holds your heart. “I love you too.”
The sun slowly crept through the curtains, waking you up, tearing you away from your dreams. Your eyes flutter open, squinting as they adjust to the light as if it was the first time in a long while.
“Mornin’ sleepy head,” A voice echoes through the room’s four corners, snapping you fully awake. Your eyes dart towards the voice’s direction, meeting a familiar set of chocolate brown eyes you’ve stared into more times you could ever count paired with that signature smile of his that made his scar just below his right eye, practically fade. “About time you woke up.”
“Luke?” You mumble, thinking that you were still dreaming.
“Gotta be quiet now, melody,” Luke moves closer to you, giving you a better view of him—looking as handsome as ever. “No one knows I’m here.” He points to a New York Yankees cap dangling from his belt loop. “I sneaked in.”
“What? You snuck in?” You ask, brows knitted in confusion. “Why’d you sneak in? It’s not like you’re not allowed to be in here.”
Luke scratches the nape of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “About that….”
You raise a brow at him, arms folded in front of your chest. “Luke, what’s going on? Don’t lie to me, I know when you’re lying.”
“Of course you do,” Luke chuckles, shaking his head. He then takes a deep breath, looking you straight in the eyes. “Chris and Clarisse won’t let me see you, while you’re here, unconscious.”
You crack a small smile, the light you always had, returning to your eyes. “What? Why? I mean, they’re literally three, four years younger than both of us and they bested you?”
Luke smiles at you sheepishly. “Yeah, well, Clarisse isn’t someone I’d like to cross.”
“You and me both,” You chuckle, sitting up straight. “So, how long was I out? Two, three hours?”
Luke’s smile falters, hesitation in his eyes. “You’ve been here for a week, melody.”
“W…what? A w…what!?” You stutter in disbelief. “One whole week!?”
“Apparently, your insides burned because of too much ambrosia intake.” Luke explains with a look of worry in his eyes. “You got everyone worried, melody.”
“How much did they give me?”
“Lee swears he gave you only two, but another cube was missing from the table, so they couldn’t be sure if it was only two.”
“Oh.”
Luke raises a brow at you, a knowing smirk on his lips. “You don’t happen to know anything, huh, melody?”
You stare at him in disbelief. How is it that he knows when I’m lying but not that I’m head over heels for him? “I may or may not have grabbed another cube, a week ago.”
Luke shakes his head with a chuckle. “And I thought I was the one, what was that you always say? Who doesn’t follow orders?”
You roll your eyes at him, your lips curling up into a smile. “Shut up, Castellan.”
“You love me, L/n.” Luke grins, mischief twinkling in his beautiful brown eyes. Of course, I fucking do. You’re just too damn stupid to notice.
“Dream on,” You chuckle, forcing a fake smile, hoping that he won’t see through it. “So, how come Clar and Chris won’t let you in?”
Luke hesitates again, avoiding your eyes—a telltale sign that he was guilty. “They, uh, were, uh mad at me. For, you know? Ditching you.”
Oh. That’s why they were arguing a week ago, apparently. You understood why Clarisse and Chris wouldn’t let Luke in, they were only concerned for you. But it wasn’t a valid reason to keep him out, when it’s him that you’ve always wanted to be right beside you.
You force out another smile—maybe you were a pro, at this point—taking his hand in yours. “I don’t mind, charming,” you say, gripping his hand tighter. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”
Luke looks at you. “You sure? I mean, I don’t want to put our friendship on the line because of my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” You choked out, shock evident in your eyes, but you pushed it down like you always do. “I mean, how? When? I remember the two of you just talking…”
“Just two days ago,” Luke answers with a confident smile. “I’m in love with her, melody, I really am. After that failed quest my stupid father gave me, I think I finally got something right—her.”
You didn’t know how to feel. You felt numb, as if your heart couldn’t break anymore than it already has. Here he was, happy to tell you that he’s finally done something right in his life. Not knowing how it’s breaking you, piece by piece, tear by tear, beating you down until you can’t anymore. But, you can’t do a thing. You don’t have any right to get hurt, angry, and broken-hearted. After all, you were only his best friend, nothing more.
You gave him a smile with every strength you could muster. “Good for you, Luke. I’m-” you took a shaky breath, hoping you could blame it on the drowsiness if he asked. “Proud of you, finally getting the love you deserve.” If happy is her, then I’m happy for you—at least, I’ll try to be.
Luke leans forward, wrapping you a tight hug. “Thanks, melody,” He whispers in your ear. “You’re the best.”
You pat him on the back, wishing you could just hit him hard enough to knock some sense into him, make him realize that you were here—right in fucking front of him. “Anytime, charming.”
Luke pulls away, giving you a kiss on the cheek before ruffling your already messy hair. “You rest well, okay?”
“Says the one without burnt insides,”
“We all have rough days and it’s okay not to feel a hundred percent all the time.” Luke assures you with a soft smile. “You’re gonna pick yourself up, and get back out there. Be easy on yourself, alright?”
You raise a brow at him, laughing softly. “When did you become so wise?”
“Turns out, hanging out at cabin six makes you wise.” Luke laughs, rising to his feet. “I’ve got to go, alright, melody? I don’t want Clarisse to kick my ass, again, if she catches me here. Anyway, we have a game of capture the flag next friday. Chiron’s pushed it back long enough, if you ask me.”
“Already?” You ask, pushing strands of your hair away from your face. “What day is it?”
“You’ve been out cold for a week, melody,” Luke chuckles, shaking his head, his curls looking as messy as ever. “It’s Thursday today, Chiron announced last night.”
“Damn,” you mutter under your breath. “I missed a lot, huh?” Like you making Lacy officially your girlfriend.
“Don't you worry your pretty little head, you can jump back into it as soon as you feel okay.” Luke assures you with a smile, walking towards the door, Annabeth’s New York Yankees cap ready in his hands. “Now, get some rest.”
You nodded, playfully rolling your eyes, as if you weren’t already dying of heartache and a headache from all the information you’ve just ingested. “Yes, I will. Don’t worry too much about me.”
“When you’re better, meet me at our spot.” Luke gave you a lopsided grin. “We’ll spar, but don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”
“Alright,” You fake a smile so normally, reaching for the bottled water on the bedside table. “I’m sure gonna beat up your sorry ass.”
“As if,” Luke scoffs, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “You can’t beat me.”
You stuck your tongue out at him. “I sure can, dummy.”
Luke snorts, adjusting the Yankees cap to his size. “We’ll see.” He then places the cap on top of his head, his body disappearing right in front of your eyes. “Rest.”
You chuckle, smiling—genuinely—at him. “I will, thanks for the visit, charming.”
“For the love of dad, Lee,” You groan, glaring at your younger brother, lips pouting like a little kid. “It’s been twenty four hours! I’m better now!”
“Let me check first!” Lee counters, ripping open a tongue depressor. “Please, just let me check—to make sure that you’re actually healed.”
“I told you, I’m oka-”
“I’m going to bound you to that bed if you don’t shut up and let me do the freaking examination.” Lee cuts you off, effectively shutting you up. He sounded just like you, it was scary, to say the least.
“Damn, he sounds like you, sunshine.” Chris laughs from the doorway behind Lee. “You better now?”
“She would know by now if she’d just let me fu-”
“Just do the damn exam.” You grumble, sinking into the bed, your arms folded over your chest like a little girl arguing with an adult as you glared at your younger brother. “Don’t fucking swear.”
“But you do,” Lee retorts, pushing the depressor into your mouth, flat against your tongue, checking for burns cleverly caused by his sister who should have known better. “So, why shouldn’t I?”
“I’m gonna bite off your fingers, try me.” You say out through the depressor pressing over your tongue, your gag reflex activating causing you to grimace at the feeling. “I der ya.”
You hear Chris snort, earning him a glare from you. “What?” He laughs at your annoyance. “You sound like a toddler.”
You glare at him, raising your middle finger at him. “Yuck you.”
Lee, who was checking your throat, bursts out laughing. “You’re better, alright.”
You yank the depressor out of your mouth, the taste of wood still lingering on your taste buds. “I’m better, fine, good, all fixed. Can I go now or do I have to stay and be tortured by your annoying ass presence?”
Lee nods, a teasing grin plastered on his face. “Go, just don’t tire yourself. No stress for this day, at least, for gods’ sake.”
You roll your eyes at him, sitting up and reaching below for your shoes. “I know what to do, dummy.” You quickly put on your shoes, tucking the laces inside so that they don’t cause another accident before standing up. “I’ve been a healer much longer than you, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, right,” Lee mutters, throwing the wooden paraphernalia into a nearby bin. “Says the girl who burned her insides.”
“Shut up,” You hiss at your brother, resisting the urge to just smack him upside the head like the doofus he is. Brothers, geez. You can’t stand them but you can’t imagine life without them. You then grabbed a hair tie from your pocket, strands of your hair falling as you pulled your hair up into a messy ponytail. “I’m going to go find Luke.”
“Him?” Chris scoffs, rolling his eyes. “He’s literally the reason why you got sick, sunshine.”
“Nonsense,” You dismissively wave Chris off. “It was my fault, I forgot to drink water.”
“Yeah, right,” Chris rolls his eyes at you, not believing any of your bullshit, as Clarisse would call it. “You forgot to drink water on a hot summer, because my stupid ass older brother broke your heart?”
“Don’t you have someplace to be?” You grumble, picking up your guitar before making your way to the door. “Luke is still my best friend, I’m not just going to ignore him.”
Chris scowls playfully at you, placing his hands on his hips. “Then what am I? A tree?”
You chuckle, moving towards him and pinching his cheek, making him wince. “You, my friend, are like a little brother to me.”
Chris pulls your hand away from his cheek, still wincing from how hard you pinched him. “Little? I’m literally taller than you, sunshine.”
“Semantics,” You rolled your eyes, smiling at him. “Tall or short, big or small, or whatever the hell you want, you’re still like a brother to me.”
“Then,” Chris chuckles. “You are the best big sister anyone could have. Right, Lee?”
Lee nods his head vigorously. “The best, one hundred percent. Cabin seven is lucky to have you, sis!”
Your cheeks blaze pink, as you smile from ear to ear. “Gee, thanks guys,” You bow playfully. “Glad I’m appreciated around here.”
“Unlike some people.” Chris mutters loud enough for you to hear.
“He does,” You insist, your dad’s stubbornness shining through you like beams of light. “Luke appreciates me, I know it. He wouldn’t have visited me yesterday while I was out if he didn’t.”
Chris raised a brow. “Oh, did he now? I think I’m gonna have a word with this dear brother of mine.”
“Chris,” you say in a warning tone. “Be nice.”
“Fine, fine,” Chris sighs. “Don’t say we didn’t warn you, sunshine.”
“I am this close to cursing you with the sweating sickness.”
“Go,” Lee laughs, pushing you out the door. “Your prince charming awaits.”
The late summer afternoon sun was still hot against your skin as you excitedly made your way to find Luke, practically skipping as you threaded through the North Woods, to the place you and Luke call your escape from being the pillars of camp.
Only the two of you know about it. You and Luke swore on the River Styx to never tell anyone of the little hidden paradise the both of you had grown to call your own. It was the place you could be happy, the place you could have Luke all to your own.
“Not so fast!” Someone snarled, yanking on your hair, grabbing your bow and arrows. “Give me the fucking flag!”
“Luke!” You screamed, struggling against the pull at your hair. “A little help!”
Luke whipped his head around, anger immediately coursing through his veins. The sight of you struggling at the hands of an older Ares boy ignited a flame inside of him. Nobody hurts her.
Luke charged at him, making you yelp at the tug of your hair. The son of Ares was using you as a shield against Luke—and Luke wasn’t liking any bit of it.
“Let her go!” Luke roared, trying his best to attack and not hurt you. “You big dumbasss!”
“Just give me the fucking flag!” The son of Ares growled, pulling your hair harder, causing a sharp pain in your scalp—you were sure if he let go of you, all of your hair would fall out. “And I’ll spare both of you!”
“Never.” Luke growled, quickly planning an attack. Being the child of Hermes had its perks, as Luke was quick to move. Luke charged like an angered bull, taking the older boy by surprise, knocking you off of his grasp. The son of Hermes slammed the hilt of his sword against the son of Ares’ chest armor, causing it to dent and making him stumble. “Now, get the fuck out before I chop you into pieces.”
The son of Ares immediately scrambled away. “We’re not over, Castellan! We’ll get that flag one way or another!”
“Yeah? Try me.”
Luke turned his attention to you, almost tripping on a rock as he ran towards you. “You alright, melody?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” You grunt, adjusting the strap of your armor. Seeing Luke’s worried look, you sighed. “Hair pulling isn’t gonna give me a concussion, don’t worry.”
“If that fucker comes back, I’m gonna-” You pinch him on the arm, making him yelp. “Ouch, woman! That hurts!”
You rolled your eyes. “Quit being a baby.”
“Violence is never the answer! I’m not the enemy, so don’t attack me!” Luke grumbled, rubbing his arm where you had attacked him.
“Let’s just go and hide.”
“Do we have to hide?” Luke asks, gripping his sword, ready for defense. “I mean, we can fight—I can fight.”
“I am not going to fight when I can just hide.”
“Then what’s the point of capture the flag if you aren’t even fighting to keep the flag safe from the opposing team?” Luke folded his arms over his armored chest. “It’s a war game for a reason, melody.”
You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head in annoyance. He was really persistent, but you wouldn’t have him in any other way. “One, we have the flag. We’re supposed to keep it safe, so we should be hiding it. Two, I am not in the mood to heal you if you get hurt—which will probably happen, because I know you.”
“Come on,” Luke whined, tugging at the blue flag in your hands. “We can win this, I know it!”
“We can win this,” You nodded. “If you quit being a pain in the ass.”
Luke scowled. “I am not a pain, thank you very much.”
You snort, raising your hand up to wipe off the dirt on Luke’s face. “Yes, you fucking are.”
Before Luke could retort, you hear yelling just meters away from where you and Luke were standing.
“They’re over there!”
You immediately realize who it was—it was the boy who Luke had bested just minutes ago.
“Great,” You groaned, simultaneously, Luke pumped his fist up in the air.
“Idiot.“ You muttered before grabbing Luke’s wrist, dragging him away.
Despite his protests, you keep your grip on him. You weren’t gonna let him pick a fight just because he wanted to.
“There!” You hear the yells of the opposing team getting loud and closer. “I’m going to fucking rip his head off!”
You spot a cave just a few meters away. It would be a good hiding spot, just until the furious Ares kids leave the two of you alone.
“Let me at ‘em!” Luke tried pulling his hand away from your grasp. “I can handle them!”
“No!” You snap at him, dragging him towards the direction of the cave’s entrance, almost tripping as you dragged the stubborn Hermes boy despite his annoyed protests.
The two of you stumble into the darkened grotto just in the nick of time, practically shoving Luke inside. You leaned against the stone wall, trying to catch your breath, hoping those sons of Ares won’t get the idea to look inside. You immediately pulled your necklace out of your shirt. The sun shaped locket your father gave you started to glow, illuminating your face in the darkness.
“You should’ve let me fight them,” Luke grumbled, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath like you did. “I would’ve beat their asses!”
“If I did they would’ve got the flag from me, dummy!” You retorted, letting go of the chain of your necklace, letting it dangle over the camp's logo on your shirt. “Quit being reckless!”
Luke scowled, slumping onto the ground. You could see beads of sweat all over his forehead down to his neck. “I’m not reckless.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Am not.”
“You are.”
“Nuh uh!”
“Uh huh!”
Luke rolled his eyes, a small smile creeping its way to his lips. “I mean, I guess I am a little bit reckless.”
You raised a brow at him. “Only a little bit?”
“Okay fine,” Luke sighed, shaking his head with a laugh. “I’m reckless, are you happy now?”
“Delighted.” You grin at him, wiping sweat off of your forehead with the back of your hand. The two of you then sat in silence for what felt like hours—it was only a few minutes—the sounds of yours and Luke’s breathing accompanying the dim light of your locket.
“So, where exactly are we?” Luke asks, breaking the momentary silence. “Never seen this cave before.”
“I actually don’t know,” You answer, looking around the poorly lit enclosure. “Pretty sure we’re barely past Zeus’ fist, so we don’t have to worry about being too far out.”
“Zeus’ fist?” Luke snorts. “What? Mister king of the gods had a tantrum and punched camp?”
“It’s a clump of rocks that look like a fist,” You laugh, rolling your eyes at Luke’s humor. “Although, some call it Zeus’ shit, since it looks like a clump of Pegasus shit.”
Luke burst out laughing, throwing his head back like a little kid. “Nice name, fits mister grumpy pants. Thalia would’ve loved that!” he says in between fits of laughter.
“She would,” you smiled, knowing how much Luke missed Thalia—his first best friend. You didn’t know much about Thalia, but knowing from the stories Luke has told you before, he was right. “Thalia would’ve loved it.”
“Yeah, she would’ve,” Luke sighed, smiling softly. “Hey, melody?”
“Mhm?”
“Do you think anyone else knows about this cave?”
“I don’t think so,” you shrug, looking around. “This place looks so…dark, you know? And besides, the Ares kids haven’t found us yet. So, it’s safe to say that no one else knows about this place.”
“Our own place.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“This could be our own place,” Luke explained with a grin, his eyes shining with a familiar excitement you’ve seen before in his chocolate eyes. “Somewhere only we know.”
“It’s dark here,” You say, your nose wrinkling in disgust. You never really liked the dark. As a child, it had been your worst nightmare. Your mother would always set up a nightlight just so you wouldn’t get terrified of the possible creatures that lurked in the dead of the night. When you got to camp, your father had given you your locket to help you cope with the darkness and being alone since your mother couldn’t really help you with your fears anymore. “I don’t really like the dark.”
“We could add some torches outside, plus some inside, maybe those streamer light things too—we just gotta figure out how to add this without power, but I think I can ask that Beckendorf kid for a favor. A few crates we can stack up for a bed when we need it—I can grab an extra sleeping bag from the camp store. And some throw pillows here and there and it’ll feel like home.”
“You can’t possibly think that this dark cave could feel like a home,” You argued, folding your arms over your chest. Realizing that you’ve covered the only source of light in the dark, you quickly tugged on your chain, pulling it from below your arms.
“I lived in a cave once.” Luke says casually, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s not that bad, honestly. You just got to use your artistic eye—you do have that, don’tcha?”
“I’m not going to get my way, am I?”
“Nope!”
You rolled your eyes at him, smiling despite losing another decision to the boy right in front of you. “Fine,” you groan playfully. “You better make this place as bright as my cabin.”
“Not that bright, but of course, my sweet darlin’ melody!”
You smile, taking it all in. You’ve never had something as intimate as this, and it felt good, somehow. A place you can call your own, now who wouldn’t want that? “Our own place,”
“Our own place.” Luke repeated, contentment in his voice. “Swear on the River Styx?”
“What for?”
“If this is gonna be our little escape from camp duties, we should at least keep it a secret from everyone else.”
You raised a brow at him. “Even from Annabeth?”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Yes, even from Annabeth.”
“Pretty sure she’s gonna find out either way, but yeah sure, we can swear on it.”
“I, Luke Castellan, swear on the River Styx to never tell anyone of this place.”
“I, Y/n L/n, swear on the River Styx to never tell anyone of this place.”
The sound of the conch rang out from the distance, signifying the end of the game, and since the flag was still in your hands, your team had won.
“Did we win?”
“We did!” You squeal, grinning from ear to ear like a child on Christmas eve. “We won! We actually won!”
“Come on, let’s rub our victory in their faces,” Luke grinned, his eyes shining with that familiar mischief you’ve come to adore, dramatically offering his hand out for you to take. “Shall we, my lady?”
“We shall,” You giggle, grabbing his hand as the two of you make your way out of the dimly lit space.
From that day on, you and Luke have decorated the place to look as cozy as possible. The both of you would spend as much time as possible together, usually sparring outside the cave or just catching up on the sleep you’ve missed from waking up early in the mornings. Sometimes, you’d bring your art supplies and paint little murals all over the walls. Luke even carved yours and his initials on one side of the walls and painted them gold—in Luke’s words, because, our friendship is worth more than gold. This little cave was your escape from reality. Where Luke is yours, and you are his—even just in your imagination.
You sigh happily as you spot your little hidden paradise, blazing greek fire on torches set up just at the entrance. You practically skipped towards the cave, a huge grin plastered on your face.
“Luke? Are you here, charming?” you call out, your voice sounding a little giddy as you make your way inside, following the dim light inside—which Luke probably lit beforehand. “I’m here! I’m ready to beat your ass!”
As you approach closer to the light, you hear faint moaning? What in the name of Hades is he moaning for? You thought, brows knitting in confusion as you moved cautiously forward, pulling the strap of your guitar over your head. He better not be jerking off again. I swear to the gods above I’m going to hit him with my guitar.
You’ve only caught him in the act once, and it was enough for you and Luke to resort to calling before coming in—which you did, and debating whether to do it again because you did not want to see how males relieve themselves again ever in this lifetime.
You sigh heavily as you make your way inside of yours and Luke’s secret hide out, desperate for a little sleep before getting back into your duties as one of the head counselors. Your fourth archery class was in two hours, and you were already debating whether you should leave it for Dawn to handle because you were absolutely aching to get a well deserved rest, practically begging Hypnos to put you into a peaceful nap right there and then.
As you walk past the buckets of paint you left from the last mural you made, you hear muffled sounds coming from inside. Immediately, you thought of Luke being injured or in pain—his recklessness usually got him into unsavory circumstances, and it was honestly so stupid of him most of the time. But you’ve never heard him like this before, and it made you worry. Maybe he got stabbed—which was highly unlikely, knowing how good he is with a sword—and was scared to tell you, knowing you’d bound him to a bed in the infirmary this time. Whatever it is, you were ready to hit him on the head for it. Perhaps even curse him with the sweating sickness for, well, being a pain in the ass (you love him for it, so you most likely won’t).
Sighing, you finally make your way towards him, hands in your pockets searching for something that could help—band aids, ambrosia, anything—ease whatever pain Luke was feeling. Hopefully, it isn’t that bad and fixable with the few cubes of ambrosia in a pouch inside your pocket.
“Jesus, Luke!” you shriek, immediately closing your eyes shut, pulling your hands out of your pockets and covering your eyes for added, well, coverage from what you just saw.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you hear Luke say as he quickly—as you assumed—pulled his boxers and pants up, before the sound of his footsteps echo in your ear. “You saw that…?”
“What do you think, dumbass?” you hiss, eyes still closed shut as you attempted to cross one arm over the other against your chest.
“Maybe next time, call first?”
“You think?”
“You can open your eyes now, Mel,” Luke says with a chuckle. “You gave me blue balls, but I’m decent now.”
“Nuh uh,” you shake your head. “I don’t trust you.”
“You wound me, miss Y/n L/n, daughter of the god of truth-”
“Your dad is a liar. You said so-”
“You think I’d ever lie to you, melody?” Luke snorts. “Just open your eyes, drama queen.”
“It’s not my fault I’m scarred for life!” You grumble, reluctantly opening your eyes, relieved that Luke was decent looking at least even though his belt was undone and the zipper was half way up—which you just chose to ignore. “Gods of Olympus, I think I need to get therapy!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Luke rolls his eyes sarcastically. “It’s not my fault you just waltzed in without announcing yourself.”
You scoffed, glaring at him. “Well, I’m sorry for thinking that you were injured or something, dumbass!”
“Come here,” Luke opens his arms out for a hug, giving you an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, mel-”
“Ew, wash your hands first!”
Luke burst out laughing. “Really?”
“I am not hugging you until your hands are a hundred percent disinfected, Castellan.”
“Fine,” Luke laughs, turning his back to get the shoe box sitting on the ground, placing the cover back on top. “Let me just bring this back to eleven, and then you can supervise me in disinfecting my hands.”
“What even is that?” you ask, peering over Luke’s shoulder.
“Oh, trust me. You don’t want to know.”
Realizing what he meant, you visibly cringed. “Oh, dear gods,” you say, your nose wrinkling in disgust. “You are disgusting, you know that?”
“You gotta do what you gotta do,” Luke smirks. “It hurts, if not relieved properly.”
“Stop, stop,” you shake your head, covering your ears. “I do not need a lesson on the male reproductive system.”
“It is what it is, melody.”
“Shut up,”
“Next time, call first, alright?” Luke chuckles, placing the box under his arm. “Yell if you have to.”
“Noted. And next time, give me a fucking heads up an hour before you want to do…that.”
“You do know that your brothers probably jerk off too, you know?”
“I swear to my dad I’m going to kill you of you don’t stop, Luke-”
Luke smirks, slinging his other arm over your shoulders. “You love me,”
I do, you think as the two of you make your way out. “But that does not mean you can annoy me to death.”
“Ah, but that’s my purpose, my friend.”
“You are absolutely, a hundred percent, annoying, Luke.”
“I think you mean, absolutely, a hundred percent, charming?”
“Nope,” you chuckle as Luke scoffs playfully. “You’re definitely an annoying little shit.”
“Yeah, well, I’m your annoying little shit.”
“The one and only.”
“Luke?” you call out his name again, this time a little louder. What is he doing? He better not be doing what I think he is, or I am definitely going to kill him.
“Luke-” A gasp escapes your lips at the scene playing right in front of your eyes. Suddenly, you felt like a statue, stuck staring despite the voices in your head begging you so desperately not to.
Luke was half naked, leaning against the wall, his jeans unbuckled and hanging loosely around his waist. And there was Lacy, straddling him, hands roaming absolutely everywhere. Her manicured hand trailing up and down his bare, scarred chest while the other was threading through his chocolate curls as he kissed her like it was the end of the fucking world. Luke's hands slowly crept down, one hand snaking around her waist, pulling her closer and the other trailing up under her shirt and up to her breasts, emitting a sound you never wanted to ever hear. The sounds of their moans kept ringing in your ears, haunting you with every second you stood frozen. Gods, at this point, you wanted to pop your eardrums just to be free of this involuntary torture.
But that wasn't even the worst part. It was the fact that, a few inches up, you could see a pair of initials drawn messily with red lipstick right over yours and Luke’s.
L + L
He was putting her over you, literally and physically.
You knew this was going to happen from the very moment Luke told you about his relationship, but you didn’t expect it to be so soon. Angry tears started to prick the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill at any second. You tried your best to push them back, but it felt like an overflowing dam. Your grip on your guitar loosens as your tears slowly cloud your vision. The wooden instrument slips from your hold, shattering into tiny unfixable pieces from the impact, just like your heart. At the sound of the instrument breaking, Luke’s head whips around, spotting you. His face immediately drains of color, knowing his faults.
“Shit-” Luke pushes Lacy off of him, causing her to yelp as he quickly makes his way towards you. But you turn to run off before he could even catch up. “Y/n, wait!” he calls after you as you run out of yours and Luke’s once secret place.
You kept on going, running and ignoring Luke’s pleas for you to stop and talk to him. You felt very betrayed, very heartbroken, and very angry. How could Luke do this to me? You kept on asking yourself as tears kept clouding your vision like an endless fog while you ran through the woods without any direction. You wanted to stop and face Luke, to scream at him for being so clueless about your feelings and for hurting you. But you couldn’t, you just can’t. The image of him entangled with that girl was burned into your mind, refusing to let you get away from its grasp as the memory replayed again and again like a broken record. Oh, how you wanted to gouge your own eyes out and drown them in bleach until the image of them faded completely out of your mind, unfortunately, you are a prisoner of your own thoughts.
And even if you could muster up the courage, you didn’t have the right to do so. You were just his friend, nothing more. You were just this person he could count on whenever he needed something. He doesn’t care about your feelings if or not you get hurt by his choices, because you didn’t mean much to him the way Lacy meant to him. You wanted so badly for your heart and mind to just realize that crucial fact, but like your father, you were just as stubborn. Gods, fucking gods, how cruel are they to damn you like this? What the hell did you do to invoke the ire of the gods and get this kind of suffering?
“Y/n, will you stop for a second!?” Luke managed to catch up on you, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you towards him like a force of a thousand magnets.
Your hands immediately found your eyes, wiping off every tear as much as you could, trying your absolute hardest to look normal. As if you weren’t hanging onto the balance of anger and hurt.
“Hey, hey, hey,” Luke’s voice was suddenly gentle and soft, his hands moving upward to cup your cheeks, slightly titling your face up so you could meet his eyes. “Are you okay, melody? What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything.”
“Yeah, I’m-I’m good,” You sniffle, shifting your gaze away from him. How stupid is he to not see through you? “Just had a really shitty day.”
Luke sighs as he wraps his arms around you, his lips pressing against your forehead, burning into your skin. “I’m so sorry about-”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off with a shaky breath, pushing yourself away from his hold. You wanted so badly to bury yourself in his chest, like you always did whenever Luke hugged you, to breathe in his scent, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Knowing that Lacy had already claimed her territory. “I-I have to go,” You choked back a sob, wiping away the fresh tears falling from your eyes as you turned your back on him. “Lots…lots of stuff to do.”
“Y/n, wait-” Luke tries to stop you, his hand on your arm—holding onto you like a vice he didn’t want to let go—but you pulled your arm away and just walked away without taking another look back, because you didn’t want to look as desperate as you felt.
You feel your chest tighten as you hear Luke calling your name again and again, his voice slowly fading as the distance between you and him grows farther away. But, you continued to tread on, walking without a sense of direction through the woods. Despite that, there was this lingering feeling in your heart that hoped so badly that Luke would still follow you.
Should I look back? Should I stop? Should I…
No, Luke isn’t behind you anymore. He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t give a damn about you. You are nothing to him. He loves Lacy, not you. And he will never love you.
Haven’t I given enough? I mean, I gave Luke my best me’s-
You aren’t her.
You aren’t Lacy.
What does she fucking have that I don’t?
You will never be her.
You snap out of your thoughts as you fall onto your hands and knees, gasping for air as the tears you were trying your absolute hardest to push back now flowed down your cheeks like an endless stream. You couldn’t keep it in anymore, it was just too much for you to handle all at once. It was suffocating, as if Lord Eros had shot an arrow straight through your throat, purposely missing your heart, and with a taunting voice he’s telling you “You don’t deserve love!”
“Holy Hephaestus- Beckendorf, get your ass down here for a sec!” You hear someone say, causing you to immediately wipe away tears, dirt smearing all over either side of your face. You see a figure approaching you from your peripheral view, which then you realized where you were. Fire crackled in the distance, the smell of burning metals lingering in the air. “Gods of Olympus- Y/n?” The figure knelt in front of you, large calloused hands supporting your weight as your body trembled from the forcing back whatever you felt. Looking up, though still a bit blurry, you recognized the person holding onto you. Marco Leon, head of cabin nine and son of Hephaestus—a familiar face you’ve come across multiple times a day in the infirmary.
“Are you alright, Y/n?” Marco asked, lifting your palms away from the ground, placing them onto his shoulders as he helped you stand up, searching you for any cuts or bruises. “What happened?”
What happened? Nothing. I just saw the love of my life practically having sex with his new girlfriend. “N-nothing,” You wheezed out, stumbling forward a bit as your chest heaved from trying to stop the tears and catch your breath. “I’m fine…”
“You’re obviously not fine, Y/n.” Marco shook his head, his face contorting into a look of concern. He slid his arm around your waist, careful not to make you feel uncomfortable but enough to keep you steady on your feet. “Come on, let’s get you seated for a sec.”
Marco led you towards the workshop, where surprisingly only one of his siblings—Charles Beckendorf—was waiting, confusion evident in his features as you approached.
“Holy- What did you do, Marco?”
“I didn’t do anything wrong! She tripped!” Marco defended, helping you onto one of the work benches around. “Quick, get the first aid kit!”
“No,” You say, shaking your head, your voice hoarse and dry as you undo your ponytail. “I mean, no thanks. I-I can do it myself.”
“Are you sure?” Marco grabbed the first aid kit from his brother, opening it. “You’ve got a pretty nasty scrape, there.”
You smile weakly, pushing back a few strands of your hair away from your face, cringing slightly at the feeling of dirt dried up on your skin. “It’s fine, don’t worry.”
“Alright,” Marco smiled, giving you an alcohol pad and gauze along with the tiniest roll of paper tape, which you gladly accepted with a small nod.
Ripping open the alcohol pad, you pressed it against your skinned knee, wiping any debris and bacteria away, a whimper escaping your lips at the burning sensation of the disinfecting wipe. You then repeated the process on your other knee, before placing the used pad on your lap and opening one of the gauze packs.
“Here, let me help with this, at least.” Marco offered, grabbing the roll of tape, tearing off a piece. “Put the gauze over the scrape, and I’ll secure it down.”
“Thanks,” You squeaked, eyes widening at how horrendous that sounded. Gods, why can’t I do anything right? “I’m so sorry for being a bother-”
“You’re not bothering anyone, trust me,” Marco chuckled, meeting your eyes with a kind smile. “You’ve been taking care of everyone at this camp, it’s just right to return the favor.”
Marco pulled another piece of tape, only for it to reach the end of the roll. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, reaching for the medical kit and rummaging for another roll of paper tape, letting out a huff at the unsuccessful search. “Guess we’ll just have to make do with this little thing.”
He tore off the paper-clip sized piece off of the roll, placing it on the bottom side, so that the whole gauze wouldn’t fall off. It didn’t really make a difference, since your other knee was still bare—though, sanitized, at least.
You muttered a quick thank you, before taking a deep breath, composing what’s left of…whatever the hell you had left. “Gods, this is so embarrassing, you know?”
Marco raised a brow, closing the incomplete box of first aid necessities and passing it to his brother, who ran with it to god knows where, leaving you alone with the senior counselor of cabin nine. “What is?”
“Head healer, being a dumbass, getting herself injured and can’t even properly heal said injuries—and the worst part, the injury was only a scrape, a fucking scrape.”
“Stop that,” Marco sat right next to you, shoulders brushing against one another. “You have got to stop discrediting yourself, Y/n. You are an amazing healer, sister, friend, and person. From what I’ve seen you do over the years, I’m confident to say that you are the most selfless person here at camp.”
“You’re just saying that because-”
Marco placed his hand on your shoulder, your eyes suddenly meeting his—chocolate brown, just like Luke’s. I can’t even talk to another without thinking of him, gods, what is wrong with me? “You take care of everyone, honestly, but who takes care of you?”
“I-I…” Words refuse to come out of your mouth, leaving you like one of your blank canvas. Marco was right, and it pains you to admit it. You’ve always been the caretaker, but never the one cared for. Sure, your siblings and friends care for you, but at the end of the day, it’s still you who looks after everyone—especially him. If Luke Castellan ever needed tending to or help with practically anything, you’re there by his side, just like how Icarus was drawn to the sun. You often forget to take care of yourself, even the simplest of tasks like eating or drinking, slips out of your mind whenever Luke or someone needs your help. It’s almost an endless cycle, fixing everyone’s problem until it’s you who’s stuck with something you can’t muster up the courage to ever get a solution.
When was the last time you even had time for yourself? Gods, you felt pathetic. At this point you think it’s all you’ll ever be, as terrible as it is, a pathological people pleaser.
“Come on,” Marco pulls you out of your self loathing. “Let’s get you back to your cabin, you need rest.”
“I’m okay,” You mumble, biting the inside of your cheek. Here you go again, acting like you’re fine when you’re not. Taking a deep breath, you meet Marco’s eyes with a smile. “I’ve got to get back to work, you know? I fear my absence this past week has affected a lot.”
Marco shook his head, chuckling at how stubborn you probably looked right now. “Still, I'll walk you back.”
“I’m okay, Marco, I swear-”
“Please,” His voice was firm, but there was this gentleness in his tone that made your heart flutter a bit. What in Apollo’s name is wrong with me? Ugh!
“Okay, fine.”
Marco quickly rose to his feet, a grin etched onto his handsome- No, I mean, attractive- fuck it face like he’d just won a million dollars in the lottery. “My lady?” he bowed in front of you, offering his hand out the way Luke always did whenever he was trying to make you laugh after he’d upset you or something. You took his hand, choosing to ignore what your mind—heart— wants, giving the boy in front of you a small, forced smile as he helped you onto your feet. “Shall we?”
You nod, letting go of his hand before it all feels weird and awkward. Gods forbid anyone sees you holding hands with Marco, not that it’s bad or that you’re ashamed, but there is one person you have in mind you would prefer not to see you frolicking like a teenager in love.
Well, you were, in fact, a teenager in love, but not with Marco Leon.
The two of you headed back to the cabins in complete silence. It was honestly deafening, to say the least, you just couldn’t bring yourself to utter a single word. With everything that’s happened today, you wanted nothing more than to run away and hide, to weep like a fucking disney princess in hopes of getting a fairy godmother to appear out of the blue to help solve all of your problems, even if the magic fades after midnight. Oh, what you would give to get that wretched, cursed, image of the boy who owns your heart and soul with that…that girl out of your mind for all eternity. If it was possible to rearrange and delete memories from your mind, you would’ve clicked the easiest option out.
As the cabins came into your view, you let out a soft sigh of relief. He’s not here yet, thank gods. You weren’t ready to face him, or her after what you’ve just seen in the place that was once exclusive to and your best friend. The thought alone of them kissing made your stomach churn so badly that you wanted to throw up. Oh no, did they….continue after Luke got back? You visibly cringed at the thought, gods of Olympus, why was your own mind punishing you like this? You look up at the sky, the sun is setting in the horizon, the serenity of the pink and orange hue in the clouds calming you down.
“Are you free tomorrow?” Marco asked as the two of you approached the vicinity of the cabins, your hands brushing against each other ever so slightly.
“I don’t think so,” You hum, your hair blowing against the evening summer breeze. “I’ve got to get back to my duties. Archery lessons, music, and arts and crafts, I think? Why?”
“Maybe you’d like these new…uh, arrows? Yeah, arrows, that’s right! Me and Beckendorf made them for you guys. Test them out before, you know, using them.”
“Yeah?” You ask, brows furrowed in confusion. “I didn’t know we had new arrows coming in.”
“Lee approved them, because you were unavailable? You were, you know? Sick?” Marco fumbled over his words, like your younger brother, Will, whenever he gets caught stealing Lee’s flannels.
“Oh, well then, I think I could squeeze you into my schedule tomorrow.” You smiled, though, a bit unsure if you could take a few minutes off of your hectic schedule—the same routine of events you always do.
“I’ll pick you up- no, I mean-”
Before you could utter a response, you heard screaming. “Connor Stoll, get your ass back here!”
What has he done this time? You thought, because you were the one who had to patch the younger Stoll brother whenever he got maimed by the one he was terrorizing. Usually, it was Luke who’d ask what his menace of a brother did, and the two of you would laugh about it after the said menace was out of earshot.
You see Connor Stoll running in your direction, with that shit eating grin he always has every time he’s successfully pulled off a prank. Behind him was an angry Katie Gardner, with a trowel in her hands as she chased after the speeding little shit- Connor. “Get back here, you little shit!”
“Never!” Connor yelled over his shoulder, zooming in your direction without looking where he was going, colliding into you, causing you to stumble backwards- You have got to be kidding me, falling into Marco Leon’s arms like you were in a goddamn romantic comedy movie.
“Hi,” Marco chuckled, his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you steady like you were a canvas and he was the easel. “You okay?”
“Uh, yeah, I-I’m okay…”
“Stoll’s a menace,” Marco laughed, helping you back onto your feet in one swift motion, his arm still placed firmly against your waist, his face just a few inches away from yours.
“When isn’t he?” You let out a shaky laugh, realizing that were probably campers gawking at you and Marco flirting like two leads in a movie. “You…uh, you can let go of me now.”
Embarrassment crept onto his handsome features like a plague, scratching the back of his head like he’d been caught stealing from the Big House or something. “Oh, yeah,” he chuckled awkwardly as he helped you back to your feet. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry.” You pat him on the shoulder like an absolute idiot, who the fuck pats a person? At least, no one else saw that, because if someone brings this up sooner or later, you were going to kill Connor Stoll. Though, it seems that everyone has gone to get dinner, and won't be back until after the campfire—which, you should be there for, as senior counselor and head of the Apollo cabin. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow? I mean, if I get the time and all.”
“Yeah, of course. Take your time! I’ll be right here- I mean, not here here, but at my cabin, or at the forge. Not here, where we’re currently standing.”
“See you tomorrow, Marco,” you chuckle, playfully rolling your eyes at him, starting to walk away from the oddly awkward Hephaestus counselor. “I’ll try to make time, I promise.”
“Wait, you’re not going to eat dinner?” Marco asks, walking three steps behind as you headed to your cabin, which was only next to his own.
“Eh,” you shrug, running a hand through your hair, which wasn’t as smooth as you wanted it to be. “I think we have a few snacks in the cabin.”
Marco raised a brow, a teasing smile on his lips. “You gonna survive on snacks alone?”
“I think so, though, it wouldn’t be as healthy as I’d prefer.”
“Tell you what,” Marco gently grabs your arm, prompting you to stop in your tracks, now just a few meters away from your cabin. “I’ll go grab you something healthy to eat from the pavilion so that you won’t have to make do with that unhealthy junk. How does that sound?”
“You’d do that for me?” You ask, shocked as to why he would offer such a thing. You weren’t a princess, so it doesn’t make sense that he’d bring you food like some sort of servant, which he absolutely wasn’t. Gods, you felt bad even just thinking about it. Though, a meal sounded nice, since you’ve haven’t gotten anything to eat yet since you’d left the infirmary.
“Of course! It’s no trouble, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Marco assured, letting go of your arm. “What about the campfire, though?”
“My siblings will come looking for me, I suppose.” Foolish of you to think that you could ever get a little time for yourself. Guess you’d never learn your lesson then, dutiful daughter of Apollo. A soft sigh escapes your lips, still reeling high from the events that had come to pass. Dad, I just want the day to end, I want to curl up in my bed and cry myself to sleep. Come on, let me just do this once? I promise I’ll be your perfect, responsible, but broken hearted daughter again!
Marco seemed to notice the change in your tone, his eyes locked with yours, as if he was looking for answers in your gaze. You didn’t even understand why he was doing all of this. Yeah, you’ve interacted with him every time he comes to you with a broken thumb from accidentally hitting himself with a hammer or well, any injury that comes with being a son of the blacksmith god. He took a step closer, so close to removing the distance that separates the two of you.
“You deserve rest, after everything you do for all of us here at camp.” Marco tucked strands of your hair behind your ear. “You’re not a robot, you’re human. They can’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”
Feeling a bit overwhelmed, you took three steps back, fighting the urge to break down again. You didn’t need that, you needed to get over your own feelings—figure them out before you lose your own mind trying to fix this mess of a puzzle called you. “Of..of course. I got to go, I-I need some time alone. Thanks, for everything.”
And with that, you turned your back and ran towards your cabin, without looking back.
Luke Castellan, you fucking asshole.
I wish you were here.
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You're Human Too: Ch.1 Just Human Pair: Gojo x F!Reader Summary: After a difficult day, Gojo ends up knocking at your door, internally panicking you take of him. Feelings that have been ignored for years now make come to the surface. CW: Friends to Lovers, Twinge of Angst, Fluff If you'd prefer to read on AO3
He hated feeling weak, hated how every time he tried protecting people he cared about, it backfired. His feet felt heavy, making his way to your apartment. You were the first person that came to his mind after everything was done. Knowing it was late he hoped you were still up. It took him a second to register the feeling of your hands in his. You felt warm and comforting; compared to the cold and bitterness he was feeling. He heard you say his name, but when he tried speaking nothing came out. He couldn’t begin to form words to explain what he was doing there. Looking at you with eyes and face tinged pink, you could tell he’d been crying. Every hair and nerve in your body felt like needles, you felt as if a cold bucket of water was dumped on you. Calling out his name. Gojo looks at you in complete silence. You call out to him again in a much softer tone. But he still doesn’t answer.
You reach for his hands to lead him to the couch, giving him a slight tug signaling for him to follow you. Once he sat down on the couch you do give a quick once over. You don’t see any cuts or bruises on him. “Hey, Satoru, do you mind if I take your jacket off. I want to make sure you’re alright”. He looks at you and gives a small nod. Before thinking you asked “where are your bandages? Do you have your glasses? I don’t want you to over exert yourself. You’re gonna get a headache”. He says nothing, he’s just looking at you, you know there’s something troubling him but you don’t want to pressure him. Grabbing his hands again, you look at them, look up at his arms, neck and face. You try your best to maintain a calm demeanor.
Worry is eating you, your thoughts are getting loud while everything around you both is silent. You just want to take him into your arms and protect him from it all.
You can’t stand not knowing what’s wrong with him. He’s usually so talkative and upbeat. Not wanting to push him to talk if he’s not ready, you grab his hand and lead him to your sofa. “Hey, talk to me when you’re ready and only if you feel comfortable”.
Standing up, you give him a small smile. “Let me get you a glass of water” you make your way to the kitchen. Barely registering the presence behind you, too lost in your own thoughts on what could have happened. Feeling a sudden hand resting on your shoulder shakes you out of your thoughts. Surprised, you jumped — turning to him.
“Do you mind if I stay the night?” He asks lowly-barely recognizing his voice. He sounds so tired and defeated.
“Of course not, you’ve never asked before no reason to start now.” You smile at him and continue “You have some clothes here. I’ll get them for you; go take a shower”.
He says nothing, making his way to the bathroom.
After taking his spare clothes to the bathroom, you made your way into the kitchen. Thinking maybe a movie night, some snacks will bring some sort of serenity for his uneasy mind. Even if it’s for a short while.
You two have known each other for years, at this point. The trust between the two of you had been built little by little, growing as time went by. Gojo still struggles at times voicing his feelings. Sometimes needing a few minutes alone to gather his thoughts. Only then, can he come to you. His emotions can be caught at a glimpse on his face. There one second and gone the next. The need to always seem carefree and unbothered wining. “I’m the strongest” he always says smiling. Though true his statement, it annoys you and sometimes you want to shake him and yell at him that ‘it’s fine to be fucking tired and needing a break’.
You can see thru his guise, sometimes, late at night, during intimate conversations he lets the mask slip off. When the world is silent and seems still, when it feels like it’s just you two, he lets his humanity and feelings come out and take breath.
Filled with hope, you cross your fingers that tonight turns into one of those rare moments. Your worry keeps growing the more minutes pass by, just wanting your normal Satoru back. Mine you think to yourself. When did I start thinking like that, giving yourself a mental slap. The line between friendship and something more has been getting blurred for a while now. But neither of you have voiced anything about it. So the best thing is to just…keep going with whatever it is you both have going on.
Finishing laying some snacks on your coffee table you hear the bathroom door open. “Perfect timing” you murmur - sitting on the sofa. “Come over here let’s watch a movie” you tell him and loudly tap at the spot beside you - turning around to look at him. Hair still damp from the shower, towel around his neck, black joggers on, you take an involuntary sharp breath. No matter what he wears, he’s always breathtaking. Sometimes it’s envy inducing how effortless gorgeous he is. “What movie is it?” he asks in a curious tone. Snapping back - “It came out a while back but I’ve heard it’s good with an interesting twist!” you answer him as he makes his way to sit next to you.
20 minutes into the movie he speaks up “I saw this one, the brother isn’t actually dead. She wasted years looking for his “killer” - he air quotes- but he just wanted to escape their family and start a new life where no one knew him” You just stare at him with wide eyes “Satoru, you really have to STOP spoiling movies for me. I’m gonna ban you from watching movies with me if you keep it up.”
He chuckles and shrugs his shoulders “I saved you from the bad acting. Interesting story and twist but poor execution by the actors part. You should thank me.” and he smiles. The nerve this man has to smile after ruining a movie for before it even really started. You have moved away from him to the other end of the sofa and decide to lay down and take out your phone. Giving him the silent treatment…well you were gonna try at least. He’s not one to take silence so easily tho.
Giving you a few minutes “Come on Y/N...it wasn’t that good anyways don’t be mad” he pouts looking at you giving you puppy dog eyes. Lifting your head from where you were resting it a second ago “I wanted to see it. You could have told me you already saw it when you realized.” Now you’re pouting too and he feels a twinge of guilt in his chest just wanting to this be over. “Okay, okay I should have. We can try another one if you want. Is there anything else you wanted to watch?” he asks genuinely. “Nope” you say loudly while dramatically emphasizing the ‘p’ flopping back to where you had been laying before, jerking your body to face the back rest of the sofa, giving your full attention once again to your phone. Lightly kicking at his side making yourself comfortable.
He really does feel bad, but you look so adorable when annoyed that he can’t help wanting to push your buttons sometimes. Gojo really appreciates you putting up with his antics and how genuine you seem to enjoy his presence. Not used to people wanting to be around him for just him; most wanting something done. After they get what they need they cast him to the side until next time. Not minding it anymore since it’s something he’s become accustomed to; you’ve been a breath of fresh air ever since you two met. That’s why he’d crawl to the ends of the world for you if needed. Ask anything of him and he’d do it without a second thought. You have so much power over him and you don’t abuse it; never once taken advantage of it. Truly a gentle soul in this cursed filled world. Caring, sweet and understanding of him. Usually you’re the one to interject in conversations when people try to speak ill of him. Gojo feels undeserving of having someone like you in his life. There’s so much chaos that surrounds his daily life with being the strongest. Tapping one of your ankles to get your attention- you look away from your phone to focus on Gojo for a second and raise your eyebrow. “Mhm?”.
“Are you done ignoring me?” he asks with mild amusement. He just wanted to spend time with you and didn’t want this to stretch out and you two to actually end up irritated with one another. His hand has come up to rest at your calf - squeezing lightly he says “I won’t do it again. Pinky promise.” sticking out his small pinky. Rolling your eyes at him you sit up and make the pinky promise with him. “You better honor it or I’m cutting your pinky off” you tell him in a incisive tone. Gojo almost believes you’re truly mad at him until he hears the melodic sound of your laughter.
“Honestly? I’ll still watch the movie. I’ll just watch it alone some other day. Just wanted to mess around with you a bit. The plot line sounds interesting so I’m still curious.” you speak offhandedly. Laying your head on his shoulder he sinks deeper on the couch fixing his position so you could fit better next to him. Having one arm thrown over your shoulders he feels you adjust yourself too and he’s playing with your hair. Safety is the word he could use to describe what he’s feeling right now, he wouldn’t change it for anything. These moments with you help him push on when needed, always keeping them tucked away for when he needs the pick me up. But today, today was just too overwhelming for Gojo, even the strongest have their moments. That’s how he ended at your door, needing to see you and feel you. Thinking on how to start explaining why he showed up at your doorstep a little over midnight with signs that he’d been crying has him distressed. He doesn’t know how to say that his thoughts got overwhelming, how he wanted a break a moment for him to just be normal and not have so much weight bearing on his shoulders. How with you around could ground himself. You make the world bearable, you know the words to say to help calm the storm within him. He’ll tell you, he will, he just wants to listen to your voice a little more first. But Gojo being Gojo simply asks “why were you up late?” waiting for your answer he just noticed how close you two are. He’s resting his head on top of yours while you’re sat on his lap sideways…and he’s holding you so close to him. As if you’d vanish if he’s not careful. Not sure when or how you two ended up like that, you seem to not mind.
Angling your face to look directly at him “Couldn’t sleep” is your simple answer -adding in a whisper “I could ask the same y’know" brushing your thumb over his cheek in a back and forth motion. Feeling his arms around your waist get a bit tighter, you put your forehead on his and murmur with so much tenderness “I’m sorry, I’m just worried I don’t want to push you to tell me.” Waiting for Gojo to say something, anything really, feels eternal.
“Well” he starts- clearing his throat “I’m tired that’s all. Sometimes I want to destroy it all so I can fix the shit the higher ups have done. They care about power and their own old beliefs.” He hides his face at the crook of your neck and takes a deep breathe, not sure of how else he can continue expressing what he’s feeling.
“Toru” you say - that sweet nickname you gave him always makes his heart speed up a bit. Moving one of your hands to the back of his head and the other one around his shoulder you hold him tight. Knowing words can be difficult for him you think this is the best you’re getting for now. Speaking lowly, words just for him to hear “This world can be hollow and unforgiving, I’ve seen how you keep breaking yourself, going above and beyond for people you don’t even know. People are selfish, curses will come and go. The world continues, no matter how big the joys or sorrows are. It’s okay to admit you’re tired or need a moment to center yourself and focus on you. I sometimes wish I wasn’t a Sorcerer honestly, - you feel Gojo get stiff at this - “I sometimes think about the what if I’d never found out about all of this. It gets tiresome. I’ve seen some unfair things happen and I want to breakdown. But there are also good people and I want a better world for them; even if they don’t know Curses exist and what we go through. BUT I’m also glad I’m a sorcerer. The best thing I’ve gotten out of all of this is the amazing people I’ve met. I met you and I’m grateful for that too. You can be funny some times so you being annoying is bearable” giving his forehead a quick peck.
“I am not annoying I don’t know what you’re talking about” he says and can feel him relax against you. Enjoying the warmth his body radiates you’re grateful he trusts you enough to not have his infinity on around you. Gojo is so touch starved, skin sensitive to any touch, you notice how sometimes he shakes and goosebumps rise on his skin. With simple touches you give him.
You feel the need to reassure him how you’ll always be by his side so you gently grab his face so he can look directly at your eyes - “ I can’t take the pain away, I can’t make the stress go away and I really wish I could do that for you. Just let you stumble in and out of the grace of your power when you need to. I can’t imagine the weight you carry, the pressure you feel. That’s not easy and I can only imagine how you feel at the end of each and every day. You don’t have to be the strongest always, at least not around me. You can let the walls fall away here; when it’s just you and me.” You say with so much sincerity and conviction in your voice he wants to cry. He has made the act of looking unbothered so believable at this point; looking emotionless or detached is something he’s gotten too good at. He needs to ease peoples minds, he doesn’t like making others worry, he’s the chosen one for a reason. Bearing what others can’t. But your words stir something in him. Realizing it’s fine to have this moment for him, to be open to you, to allow himself to have someone to care for and go to. Your arms are his heaven, your existence is the balm his soul has needed, something he knew but has refused to succumb to. Maybe it’s time to make it real, just the idea of you seeing someone else leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. The strongest sorcerer to exist is reduced to a nervous man before you, craving the taste of your lips. If he doesn’t gather the courage now he may never do it.
He whispers your name and it feels as if time has stopped for the both of you, just staring at one another. Gojo moves his hands to hold your face, brushing his lips gently against yours. “I’ve been wanting this, wanting you for such a long time. You don’t even know.” Looking down at your lips, he presses a soft peck. Keeping his lips close he waits for any sign of you wanting to stop, instead you pull him in and deepen the kiss. “Took you long enough, you had me confused for a while” you speak against his lips.
“Lay down for me” Gojo says, his heart is beating erratically, feeling the tip of his ears get hot. ‘Am I blushing’ he’s mentally asking himself. “Toru?” he’s whipped the moment he sees your hair a mess on the couch and cheeks a light shade of pink.
“You’re so pretty” Gojo says as he crawls his way up to your face. Caging your body with his larger one- kissing your neck he speaks in a husky tone “So many nights thinking about you when I’m alone. What I’d do with you how I would do it. You’re so sweet I felt bad after some of my thoughts.”
Your hands find their way to his hair and you pull him towards your lips “S-stop talking”. Feeling his hips pressing down on yours, kiss becoming more desperate, messier with teeth clashing. Pent up feelings finally coming to the surface and being embraced has you both feeling lightheaded. Hands desperately grabbing onto one another; touching any patch of skin possible. The touches felt electrifying, feeling like the first breath of fresh spring air. Neither of you wanted to stop but the burning in your lungs is getting stronger as the need for oxygen grew. You broke away from the kiss first. Taking a shaky breath and looking into his eyes you feel happy, excited now for what comes next for the both of you. You both seem to be lost in thought but suddenly the silence in your living room is replaced by Gojos airy laugh.
I'm gonna be reposting my fics on here since I switched blogs. Don't repost, translate or post my works on any other website.
Pt.2
Pt.3
Pt.4
Pt.5
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#jjk fluff#gojo saturo#jjk fics#fluff#jjk x y/n#gojo satoru x y/n
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I made my promise I would make a request of this so here it is. May I please request y/n and Shinobu from different fics all meeting each other? Like for an example, painter reader and demon Shinobu meeting y/n from another fic and human Shinobu. Or maybe cat demon y/n meeting y/n that could mimic everyones voices. Maybe one modern y/n and Shinobu meeting the demon slayer timeline Shinobu and y/n.
Sorry the list got so long, you don’t have to do all of them, these were just examples :D
Anyways thank you for your time and I hope you have a great day/night! Take care and stay safe! <333
Into the Shinobu-Verse
Shinobu Kochou Variants x She/ Her and They/ Them Reader Variants
A/N: You know what? I think this turned out pretty good! It’s goofy, but I think that helped me work faster. Here are the links to the fics that got their own little spot light in order of appearance Fic1 Fic2 Fic3 Fic4 Fic5 Fic6 Fic7 Fic8 Fic9 Thanks for reading, hope you like it! Word Count: 3,901
“Okay, okay, everyone stand still, stay calm, and remain quiet so we can establish assigned seats and then we can sort all of this out in a timely manner.” Shinobu called out over the crowded tea room, it was the largest space they had that could fit all these… uncomfortably familiar faces.
“(Y/n) can you make sure everyone stays connected to who they came with?”
“I’ll try my best.” (Y/n) sighed, as tired as they were anxious to see all these alternate versions of themself that had suddenly popped into existence one by one, or two by two if you counted the Shinobus they came in with. “Okay, can everyone stop talking please? Hey, be quiet everyone! Hello?! Please?! Oh, come on—!”
A loud, very convincing siren noise screeched from within the crowd and everyone clammed up, swiveling their heads to find the source of the noise. It was one of the (Y/n)s, her Shinobu had been the only one to cover her ears in preparation and rolled her eyes playfully at the disruptive mimic.
“Uh, thank you for that.” (Y/n) cleared her throat.
“No problem, me!” The mimic flashed a thumbs up over the crowd.
“Okay, um, mimic me and your accompanying Shinobu, you can sit right here.” (Y/n) motioned them over to a spot on the tatami floor and gave them each a paper with the number one on it. “These will help us keep track of who is who and who comes from where kinda I guess.”
“Excuse us, can we please just skip this and figure out how to go home now?” Another (Y/n), quite noticeably older than most spoke up, “We have children we need to pick up from school in a few hours.”
“Really, kids?”
There was a mix of curiousness, confusion and envy that came over the space.
“Can you turn on the AC or something, it’s insanely hot in here.” The accompanying Shinobu groaned, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Or is this a completely historically accurate mansion from the Taisho era or something?”
“What is… AC?”
“How do you not know what AC is?”
“It’s a completely modern mansion!”
“I can’t even get any cell service here…”
“What era are you from?”
“The Reiwa era, obviously.” The older Shinobu spoke matter-of-factly.
“Reiwa?!”
“What’s that?!”
More confused murmurs began but (Y/n) yelled over them, asking everyone to settle down once more.
“Listen, we will work as quickly as we can to get everyone back to where they belong, just bear with us, go sit next to group one please.” She handed two scraps of paper with the number two on them to the older couple.
“Okay, uh, how about you?” (Y/n) pointed to another version of themself who was dressed in much the same odd clothes as the one they had just checked in, but this (Y/n) just looked at them like a startled deer. “Um,” she pointed more obviously, “I’m talking to you, come forward with the Shinobu you came with please.”
“Oh geez,” the Shinobu beside the other (Y/n) stepped forward, “She doesn’t speak Japanese, and mine isn’t that great either. We’re from America.”
“Oh, okay!” (Y/n) spoke up before the crowd could grow in volume again, “come take these papers and sit beside group two, please.”
“Sure,” this Shinobu came forward and perched her strange, blacked out glasses on top on her head, and scrutinized (Y/n) as she took the papers, “So Taisho, for real?”
“…Yeah.”
“Damn it! I really wish I had my gear with me! This has ghost shit written all over it!” She said to her accompanying (Y/n) in their native tongue.
“Okay, I don’t know what you are saying, but please move along, much more to get through!”
A commotion in the back of the room drew (Y/n)’s attention and then could see swords had been drawn.
“Hey! Hey! Put those swords away! What are you doing?!”
“These two are demons!” A few of the Shinobus responded tightly, “And these traitors are protecting them!”
“She has never hurt anyone! You leave her alone, or I will not hesitate to cut you down as well!” The Shinobu protecting the cowering feline demon threatened.
“You know how much I love to feed off negative emotions, but I’m feeling a little too full right now.” The other demon (Y/n) murmured in a strained joking tone to their own Shinobu variant who was in a similar protective stance in front of them.
“Enough!” Shinobu called out, her voice carrying more weight than (Y/n)’s at the moment, “(Y/n)’s right, swords away! We don’t know what the situation is like in everyone else’s plane of existence. Unless you are on the verge of being attacked, you must leave those demon variants alone!”
“Thank you”, the four called, relieved. They carefully made their way to the front and took the four and five group numbers and sat closely together, finding comfort in their solidarity.
“Okay, how about you two next?” (Y/n) quickly got back to work. The sooner they got this taken care of, the sooner they could go to bed and sleep off the headache they felt coming on.
Without a fuss they came forward and that was when (Y/n) noticed that they were both splattered with blood. No wonder the couples around them seemed concerned.
“Oh my! Are you two okay?”
“Oh yes, just fine,” the Shinobu in the backless, black dress smiled, (Y/n) caught sight of the sprawling, flowery back tattoo she had as this Shinobu twisted around to observe herself, “we’re actually glad to be here. We were in a bit of a pinch.”
“I almost had them.” The (Y/n) with her groaned. “Now that we’re here, who knows what those bastards are up to? You know how much I hate loose ends.”
“One thing at a time dear, once we figure out how to get back, we’ll do a complete overhaul.”
“That’s some back tattoo,” a (Y/n) from the crowd spoke up, “Are you part of the Yakuza or something?”
“Or something.” The Shinobu smirked and gave a wink as she took the group six papers.
That (Y/n)’s accompanying Shinobu shot the other a warning look, pulling her partner possessively into her body.
“Okay— wait, Mitsuri? What are you doing here?” (Y/n) had looked out upon the crowd again to see a bright pink and green shock of hair that stuck out from the room.
“Um, I’m with these two actually?” Mitsuri sounded almost unsure, but held the (Y/n) and Shinobu she came with an assured tightness as if she was afraid of being separated.
“That’s weird… why would you be here from another plane if no other Mitsuris are?” Shinobu pondered alongside (Y/n)
“Ummm… oh!” Mitsuri snapped, “Maybe it’s because all three of us are dating each other like all you couples seem to be?”
There was a smattering of noise, probably from (Y/n)s and Shinobus who were thinking they just might have to shoot their shots with their Mitsuris when they made it back home.
“That makes just about as much sense as anyone being here in the first place I guess.” (Y/n) handed the group of three, three pieces of paper with the number seven scribbled on them.
“Okay, you next!” (Y/n) pointed at another (Y/n), then made them stop when two Shinobus followed along with them. “Oh, wait a second, do we have our first mix up? Is there a (Y/n) out there who lost their Shinobu?”
“Nope. This is normal for us actually.” The (Y/n) spoke up. They took note of the bewildered looks they were receiving and shrugged, “Cloning mishap.” As if that made it sound any less insane. The trio stepped up and took their group eight papers, smirking when they heard a couple mutterings of ‘lucky bastard’ from the crowd.
Finally, after nearly a half hour of sorting, the last group was seated and (Y/n) sunk to their knees, exhausted. At least now this was Shinobu’s show to run, hopefully she and the other Shinobus would figure out how to get everyone back where they belonged soon.
“Alright everyone, let’s go through each group and see if there is a connection between what everyone was doing before you were sent here. Group one—“
There was a sudden snapping and popping crackle noise and a flash of purple light. Everyone flinched, but not because of the sound or light itself, they had all arrived in much the same manner, but what did disturb them has the immense demonic presence that had suddenly enveloped the room.
“Ah,” the demon Shinobu that had appeared at the front of the room stretched one set of arms over her head and her secondary arms out in front of her, four piercing eyes scanned the room appraisingly and a fanged grin spread across her face, “Not quite what I had in mind, but I can work with this.”
The room was filled with a twang of swords being drawn by all who had them. The energy this demon emitted left no doubt that she was sinister.
The (Y/n) who had appeared with the demon, anxiously clung to her deep purple kimono with paint stained hands.
“Such protective little ants.” The demon Shinobu’s eyes darkened and her grin curled into a sneer, “I’m only collecting what is rightfully mine. Afterwards, you all can be in your merry ways.”
“And what could we possibly have that belongs to you?” Was the sentiment that was heard from the crowd.
“As if it isn’t obvious, a pity I’m not as intelligent in ever universe. I will be taking all the variants of my beloved artist back home. Worry not, trust that I will take care of them better than any of you could ever dream of.”
The room erupted in a chorus of angry and nervous voices.
“Silence!” The demon’s butterfly wings fanned out, sharp and black as midnight with large, iridescent toxic purple rings.
“Shinobu-sama, please,” the Artist carefully maneuvered around a wing to clasp her arms around two of Shinobu’s, “maybe this was a mistake.”
“Wanting you is not a mistake.” Demon Shinobu assured grouchily.
“Well, no… but maybe wanting more than one of me is?” The Artist murmured quietly, looking down at her feet.
“Nonsense, if one is good then adding more could only make things even better. Now,” she spread her free arms out to sweep over the crowd, “come forward my little pets.”
No one moved an inch, making the demon roll her eyes and huff in frustration. She just couldn’t fathom what was making the (Y/n)s stay put. Couldn’t they see she was superior to all the other Shinobus by leaps and bounds? Better than them all combined, even?
“Then I’ll just have to be a little more persuasive.”
The demon brushed her (Y/n) off of her arms and spread all four limbs out into an ‘x’ shape. Then with a couple beats of her wings, she emitted a purple dust that soon spread throughout the room.
Then chaos.
One by one, (Y/n)s began fading away, slipping right through the desperate fingers that were grabbing at them. Those with swords leapt forward at the demon, but she and her own (Y/n) were fading as well, the echo of an evil cackle was all that was left behind before a heavy silence filled the room.
But then one shuddering breath from somewhere within the crowd and everyone began breaking down in their own ways. The Mitsuri variant hand her hands full trying to bring comfort to every other Shinobu she could find along with her own, trying to stem the flow of her own tears.
“Everyone stop.” Shinobu, the one of this universe, called over the crowd, “Sitting here feeling sorry for ourselves won’t get us any closer to getting our (Y/n)s back!” She seethed, eyes blazing. “We have work to do. If anyone can figure out how to find them, it’s us.”
Everyone in the room began to steel themselves, nodding and agreeing and rallying around each other. They were the biggest scientific minds in most of their universes, if they put their minds together, they could figure this out.
“We will get them back!”
***
Demon Shinobu was getting impatient. Her new playthings were very, very slow to warm up to her and a few had attempted to behead her more times than she’d like to think about. She was a gracious host, gave them everything they could ever need. Why couldn’t they behave?
“How is the art going, lovelies?” She asked a group.
“Oh just great. I think I got you just right.” One of them slid the paper over to her with a smirk.
It was an unrefined, scribbled illustration. Not the least bit dignified. Her four eyes were looking in completely different directions, tongue sticking out, among other things.
“What are those lines signifying?” She asked pointing to the wavy lines that her form seemed to be emitting.
“How much you stink.” The (Y/n) shrugged with a roguish smile, accepting the high-five another (Y/n) offered them.
Shinobu blinked all four eyes simultaneously, looking thoroughly unamused.
“Children.” She muttered.
“I’m thirty-three.” The one who provided the high-five retorted.
“Well I’m over two hundred years old so that means nothing to me.”
At another table further away, the Artist sulked, half heartedly painting along side a few of her variants as she had been for the last few weeks, hardly saying a word most days.
“You aren’t trapped here like us, are you?” One (Y/n) whispered. “You like, actually love her.”
The Artist signed and nodded solemnly.
“So you probably like us being here as much as we like being here.” Another (Y/n) spoke up, “You should tell her that! Your word probably carries way more weight than ours. If you told her to send us all back to where we belong, I bet she’d listen.”
“Shinobu-sama does as she pleases, it won’t matter what I say…” the Artist said, continuing on with painting her depressing scene.
“Sure it will, you got a better chance than any of us do at least, really. Don’t you want her all to yourself again?”
“Of course I do!” The Artist didn’t yell, but it was the loudest the rest had heard her speak since they knew her. “I just don’t think it’ll matter…”
“Sure it will. Just try once, please, for all our sakes. We have Shinobus of our own that we long to get back to and I don’t know about you guys, but mine is definitely not coping healthily about this whole situation.”
“Neither is mine.”
“Nope.”
“Definitely not.”
“She probably hasn’t slept at all!”
“Our Shinobus all have one thing in common. She loves us unconditionally. It’s the same for you, it has to be.”
The Artist looked around the table, then across the art studio at all the gloomy and depressed variants of herself. They all looked as miserable as she felt. She owed it to them to at least try to talk to her muse.
“Okay… I’ll talk to her.”
“Thank you!”
“You’ve got this!”
“Demon or not, she’s a Shinobu at her core. She’ll listen to you!”
The Artist stood from her table and allowed the reassuring hands of her variants push her forward on wobbly legs. She had never gone against Shinobu like this before, or even in general honestly. She was always far too eager to please her and far too meek to voice any disagreement. That was how they ended up like this in the first place. Perhaps if she had spoken out against her muse’s plan, everyone would still be in their own universes none the wiser.
She swallowed thickly and approached the demon who turned to her as soon as she felt her coming.
“Shinobu-sama, I would like to, oh, um, I’m the (Y/n) who—“
“I know you are my first pet. Just say what you want to say.” Shinobu’s words sounded abrupt, but the Artist knew that was just how she spoke sometimes. She could be just a little impatient. The Artist thought it was cute.
“How can you tell it is me?”
“You think I couldn’t tell the original masterpiece from all these flimsy copies? Don’t make me laugh. Now tell me what you have to say, I’m in the midst of trying to convince these foolish demon variants to eat a human or two so they can get stronger and reach their full potentials.”
“Well, um,”
“Hahh, we will talk in the hall then,” Shinobu lifted her head up to address the room, in a semi-sweet voice “remember, try to escape into my woods and you’ll be as good as dead!”
She then pulled the Artist out of the large studio space and a ways down the hall of her sprawling mansion. The Artist’s mind was still spinning from the compliment the demon had tossed her way. She thought she was a masterpiece!
“Now talk, don’t think I haven’t noticed you acting cold… have the variants been giving you a hard time?” She added as an afterthought, showing a flash of fang at her displeasure at the thought.
“No! Not at all!” The Artist answered hurriedly, “It’s just… don’t you think that maybe… you should take them back to where they came from?”
“They’ll get over it soon enough I’m sure. Can’t be rebellious forever. I can handle whatever pettiness they throw at me. I’m not afraid of a little hard work. You don’t have to worry about me, pet.”
“It’s not about that it’s… well…”
“Yes? Spit it out.”
“Never mind. I’m sorry.” The Artist backed out. She was a fool for ever thinking she could do this. She began mentally apologing to all the people she left in the studio as she turned around to walk back, but the demon stopped her in her tracks and spun her back around with a flurry of arms.
“No, no. No never minding. You disrupt me like this, I expect to hear the reason. Speak, pet.”
“It’s nothing…”
“It is something and you will tell me now.” Shinobu murmured darkly. “Don’t test me further.”
The Artist swiftly shook her head and tried to turn again, but it hard when there were four insistent arms pinning her in place.
“Don’t. Be. Difficult.” She hissed. “You’re usually so good—“
“I want you to send the variants home!” The Artist suddenly snapped. “I want all of your attention on just myself again!”
She breathed heavily for several seconds and Shinobu stared at her dumbfounded. When the Artist had time to process what she said, she quickly ducked her head down and shrunk into herself as best she could with Shinobu’s arms around her. Not much longer after that, she heard the demon chuckle and renew her grip, pulling her close.
“Is that so, pet? You want my attention?” She cooed, “My, I’ve never seen you speak your mind like this and you look so expressive too. It’s very cute.”
Shinobu’s wings unfurled and wrapped around the Artist in a comforting manner that she rarely shared, save for a few occasions when she was feeling possessive or even rarer occasions when she felt particularly cuddly.
“Do you really want me to send them all away? Would that make you happy? Don’t think I haven’t noticed how drab your scenes have been lately.”
“Yes. It would make me happy for it to just be us again.”
“So selfish, pet,” before the Artist could tilt her head away in shame, Shinobu brought it back with a finger, “I like it.”
The Artist gave her a shy smile and Shinobu gave a delightfully evil-looking grin in return.
“But may I just keep a few to devour at my leisure?”
“Please don’t.”
“Very well. You are lucky I am so accommodating to your silly little whims.”
***
“Check the math again.”
“Who has seen Variant 27? She was supposed to be back from the bookstore an hour ago!”
“En went looking for her, apparently that bookstore is on the other end of town in her universe. She will be back any minute!”
The Shinobus (plus one Mitsuri) had been toiling nonstop, researching all they could about travel through dimensions, time, space, whatever they could get their hands on. So far they had yielded little results. They were starting think this was part of the demon variant’s blood art. No one would say it out loud, but they were all beginning to think that they had no hope in getting their loved ones back.
That is, until they heard that snapping crackle that had haunted what little sleep they had allowed themselves. They were all up in arms until their (Y/n)s began fading back into existence then they were rushing in for bone crushing hugs.
Among the last of the arrivals was the demon Shinobu and her (Y/n), both looking extra close to each other.
“Hurry along, chop-chop. Everyone found who they belong to? Good.” The demon sounded completely disinterested in even her own words, ready to go back to her normal routine.
“You’re setting them free just like that?” A few Shinobus asked skeptically.
“Yes. They’re obnoxious and grating. I can’t stand them for even a moment more.”
A couple more Shinobus felt comfortable enough to joke that they felt the same, even suggesting that the demon take theirs back despite how frantically they had been searching over the last few weeks.
“Too bad, your problem now.” The demon snapped her fingers and flicked her wings, this time, (Y/n)s and their Shinobus had begun to fade. “I’m sending you back to your original dimensions. When you arrive, it will be the same day it was when you left. Wish I could say it was a pleasure, but it wasn’t.”
The crowded room was filled with goodbyes, variants which had become friends waved and thanked each other for keeping themselves sane and soon only two pairs remained, the original duo from this dimension, and the demon and her artist.
“See, it wasn’t that bad, right?” (Y/n) smiled at the Artist.
“It wasn’t. Thank you for giving me that push I needed.”
“And thank you for getting me back home.”
“I did that.” The demon scoffed. “Anyway, enough of this. I don’t know what it is, but seeing myself in this sorry human form in making my head ache.”
“I could say similar things about your sorry state.” The human Shinobu quipped.
“I’m ready to go as well.” The Artist hugged the demon’s left arms, dissuading her from turning their little quips into a full out brawl.
(Y/n) and Shinobu waved goodbye to the variants as they faded from sight. When they were gone, Shinobu all but collapsed in (Y/n)’s arms.
“I’m so glad you’re back.” She whispered against their neck.
“Glad to be back, I missed you so much.” (Y/n) hugged her tight. “If I’m tired, you must be down right exhausted. Have you been eating enough?”
“Yes, Aoi had everyone working overtime in the kitchen to keep us fed. If we didn’t eat, she’d have force fed us. She was already mad enough about us overworking ourselves as it stood.”
“Good ol’ Aoi.” (Y/n) smiled. “Let’s get you into bed.”
“Only if you’re coming with me. I don’t feel like you’re really here just yet.” Her grip on their clothes tightened a little for emphasis.
“Of course. Nothing would make me happier.”
#demon slayer oneshots#kny oneshots#demon slayer x reader#kny x reader#shinobu x reader#shinobu kocho x reader#shinobu kochou x reader#requests#anonymous
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How crazy can one man be?
For preface, the reader has the ability over nature. So things like plants, water, growth, healing, light are her powers. Think of a Fairy, and how Maleficent has that like golden dust.
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It was normal to be chased out by a crazed man because of being a mutant, mostly… But what was not normal, was getting chased by two super soldiers, widow, and a bird-like human? No idea.
The not-so young mutant saw them, and sprinted off when the group of heroes started chasing her, little did they know, they got the wrong mutant.
11:26 AM. June 13th.
Y/n was trying to have a somewhat nice day. Just trying to get her weekly shopping done, getting groceries, some new books, new cleaning products and laundry. But before she even got into the local grocery store she heard loud footsteps.
She turned around and saw the group of men and one woman all staring at her. Bucky Barnes, Steve Rodgers, Sam Wilson, and Natasha Romanoff. “Earths Mightiest Heroes”.
Y/n knew better then to run, usually.
But this wasn’t the case, Barnes started chasing her so quickly she ran and she heard his rough voice bark out.
“Get back here!”
“I’ll pass!”
She screamed back and started running as fast as she could, adrenaline pumping through her blood as her heart beat quickens.
She pumped her arms and her legs as she dodged the poor men and woman just trying to shop.
“Sorry! Oh shit! Sorry kid!”
She yelled apologetically as she body slammed a kid on accident…She looked back and saw that all of them started chasing her while The Falcon was sin the sky. So, in the heat of the moment she created a bomb out of her magic golden glitter, and threw it up.
“What the fuck?!”
Sam yelled as he descended from the sky, slamming down on the top of the building. He definitely now had a few broken ribs.
Y/n kept running, and unsurprisingly, the only person left running was Bucky. He still yelled for her to stop, but she didn’t. The adrenaline was starting to wear off as she got tired, her lungs hurting and sweat stuck to her skin. Her clothes now felt sticky, and gross.
Bucky to advantage of that and ran up to her and jumped on her, pinning her to the ground.
“Ma’am you are arrested for- oh shit.”
His beautiful steel blue eyes, they now were filled of regret. His pupils small and he got off of her.
“Oh my god…I-I am so, so, sorry. We thought you were…someone else…”
He professed, he got off of her, he helped her up. Y/n…wasn’t happy…
“Excuse me?”
Y/e/c was filled with unadulterated rage, he thinks that he can just say ‘I’m sorry for chasing you even though you aren’t the right person’ and she would accept?
“Did you say ‘wrong person?’”
She spat out and puts her hands on her hips. He grimaced and nodded, he wasn’t happy either, he was ashamed.
“I-I did-“
She cut him off quickly, and seethed out bitterly.
“So are the Avengers after mutants as well?”
She rolled her eyes and scoffed and she backed away from him, but her shakes his head and said softly.
“No not at all! I-I though, I mean, we, thought you were Mystique…”
Y/n’s eyes soften at that name, an old friend of hers, Raven.
“Raven?”
“Yes! You know her?”
“Of course…her death was impacting to all.”
Bucky’s eyes widen, his lips parted but he stammered out…
“Death..? She…died?”
Y/n nodded, she walked up to him and said.
“1992, Jean killed her.”
All Bucky could do was nod, he bit his lip and looked up at her. She sighed and asked delicately.
“Why are you after her?”
Bucky sighed, it was private S.H.E.I.L.D information. But she deserved to know.
“There have been reports about a shapeshifter, and the only person we could point to was her…”
He paused then continues softly.
“But her death isn’t in the system?”
Y/n nodded and answered.
“Xavier said nothing, so mutants wouldn’t get more hate then we already do…”
Bucky sighed and nodded, understanding her words. He stood up fully and puts his flesh hand (his right) out to shake with hers.
“I’m sorry about that. But I’m James, James Buchanan Barnes. But call me Bucky.”
He expressed, giving a beautiful smile…a smile that gave Y/n butterflies. She shakes the feeling off and puts her hand in his.
“Y/n Máxima, just call me Y/n.”
She smiles softly, shaking his hand.
Little did she know, he had the butterflies too. Except it was the ones where he wanted to puke from how harsh they were.
“What a beautiful name…”
He mumbled softly and takes his hand away, and he added softly.
“Hopefully I see you in the near future, Mrs. Máxima…”
She immediately missed his warm, and calloused hand. But all she did was smile and said.
“You will, I assure you of it.”
She looked around and when she looked back at him…he was gone.
—————————————————————
Hii this is my first work, not the best, but it was on my phone and I am way better with a computer. I will definitely make a part two when I’m not busy <3
And I will take requests, and such. I can do other MCU characters but I am in the process on working on my blog. So please be patient. :)
Much love-
Ry 🩵
#bucky x y/n#bucky banres#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky x you#bucky x female reader#bucky fanfic#bucky fic#mcu x reader#mutant#x men comics#marvel#magic#love
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Move my heart
Hobie x y/n (pt.1)
This may as well me the new series I’m coming up with, I’m obsessing over this man so I hv too many story ideas, I am writing this hungry but gosh I’m way too lazy to go but what I want to use to cook so Hobie is distracting me from my problems so I help he can distract you from yours
For now there are no warning asides from the fact that I think it’s cute
Feedback is always welcome and if you see any mistakes in the piece let me know in the comments so I can fix them
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“Hobie? Hobart” a mystery lady spoke, Hobie standing in a field, clutching unto his throat he could not breath, but regardless he still turned his head to her “I finally know what to say to you when I find you, please find me in the future” you said coughing out a black substance, before dropping to the ground, a black goo spreading across the field, Hobie with a terrified expression takes a few steps back, suddenly feeling a sense of obligation runs towards your body, as it her body dissolves into the black goo covered ground, desperate to get to this person, unable to breath he runs even faster, not minding the goo latching unto him, slowing him down, he still wanted to try and y the time he got to her, she was gone he started to slow down and as his vision glazed over he too collapsed in that field. And he woke up.
He quickly sat up in his bed, taking big breaths, his Shallow breathing was loud , he looked breathless his hands shaking and beads of sweat forming at his forehead, he looked around to find Gwen and pav, they had crashed at his place and now he wished they hadn’t “shit, are you ok, you look awful” Gwen stated slowly reaching her hand out to his back, “I’m fine” his cold tone forced Gwen to retract her hand before it made contact with him, “you sure dude, we heard grunts and you were tossing and turning you did not at all look peaceful” pav joked trying to lighten the mood but it wasn’t working “I said I’m fucking fine, mate, now go to sleep or some shit….. piss off” with that he roughly laid down facing away from them, he thought to himself how his friends were being silly, he had had these dreams several times, it’s really no big deal, he is fine, isn’t he??
“Hobie, get your head in the game this is serious” spider woman yells motioning at the zoned out spider punk to do something, anything. Hobie vigorously shook his head he caught sight of long hair, with a familiar hue, grabbing the civilian with such speed that he himself almost tripped but gazing at the civilian’s face it wasn’t the mysterious woman, he let go of the woman, raising his hands in the air in a surrendering motion. He backed away slowly.
Because of his new detrimental moves during battles against anomolies he was called to HQ, by Miguel “mate, what is this, the Human Resources phone you or sumthin” he tried to deliver a joke but his voice trailed off into a mix of cold and tired every time he spoke, “Hobie what’s actually going on?” Peter b Parker spoke up “man, I don’t know what you are on about, so lay off” Hobie spoke leaning on a nearby wall, “dude you seem exhausted” Peter tried again to reason with Hobie, “and did I tell you I was tired” Hobie spoke his voice even darker, he did not like to admit his problems but when Peter handed mayday to him Hobie found himself spilling his guts like the baby had held him at gun point, “astral projection” Miguel diagnosed, then he chuckled which seemed to set Hobie off based on his expressions Miguel was lucky mayday was holding him back “sorry, it’s just that you were trying to find this person in your present time, Eres tan estupida, there is no point to that even if you did meet the person, lo que harás, the person won’t know you because-“ Miguel stated before being rudely interrupted by Peter b Parker’s voice of realisation “you are seeing their future self”
“Exactly, but don’t worry you will definitely meet this person, seems like a canon event at this point, but don’t tell them about tho stuff it could stop the canon event from happening” Miguel said scrolling throught the tablet screen in his hand, “damn…. Imagine how much I could have saved on fortune cookies” Hobie rolled his eyes, “there is just no winning you over is there, whatever” Peter said rolling his eyes “shit the new recruit kind is today and spider woman is u available…uhhhh hobart take care of this” Miguel order “fuck no” “yeah give the man a break he sounds exhausted” “Oi I ain’t exhausted” “see he isn’t exhausted and that’s good because the recruit is already here” Miguel looked at Hobie with a cocky grin “where” Peter asked frantically turning his head, “what for it” Miguel said his face now looking impressed, you dropped from the sky view, crashing through the ceiling “oh there she is”.
Landing infront of Hobie you ride up slowly allowing him to assess your figure, your suit had a hoodie as well as an opening at your lower back and your stomach, the pants part of your jumpsuit were shorts complimented with high knee sock-shoes to show off your thighs, you were gorgeous, you smelled so nice too hang on what the fuck was he thinking, he just met you there is no way he is thirsty for someone he hasn’t actually seen the face off, staring at him, you cock your head to a side “what you staring at love, I got sumthin on my face” he said feeling his mask, “hmm.. funky mask style, oh cool outfit, instead of a traditional suit, definitely a rocker with that sexy punk rock attitude” you said basically circling him, Hobie got tired of using his eyes to follow you so he just stared straight ahead “look love I don’t know what your getting at but-“ Hobie protested but was interrupted by your actions, you grabbed his face is a playful yet loving way “and the cutest British accent, there is not a doubt in my mind you are Hobie” you added and that got to him.
Hobie was used to a lot of things but his accent being called was something that made him blush so hard he was happy to still have his mask on, looking into the eyes of your mask that reflected his own, he suddenly felt calmer, much more relaxed and vulnerable, even though you were just holding his face and he was bent over to meet your height it was comfortable for him and he never wanted to leave, seeing Hobie in a tamed manner was weird to all the others in the room, “oh my how rude of me I did not introduce myself I’m spider-belle” you say sheepishly as tho you were embarrassed by your own name “spider-belle?” Gwen asked as she walked into the room, with miles looking confused at the name, “yeah… originally I was called spider woman but then the people started calling me spider-belle and it just stuck I don’t exactly like the name because it’s directed to my body but yeah” you say “.I can tell” she continues and you chuckle several times trying to get comfy with the conversation “it is what it is innit” Bobbie said regaining his senses after you let go.
Simultaneously everyone in the room received a notice on their watches, and within seconds a portal was opened, a green goblin anomaly had appeared in a spider less world, a big team was needed considering that the anomaly was big and over powered, it was an actual green goblin with wings and a sonic roar and it was on a rampage, it had already taken down the scarlet spider which meant it was a big deal.
#hobi core#hobie headcanons#hobie x reader#hobie brown#spiderverse spoilers#spider punk#spider punk x you#spider punk x reader#spider punk x y/n#hobie my beloved#hobie x you#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x you#hobie brown x y/n#hobart brown#hobart brown x reader
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Mom, I’m Tired (Can I Sleep In Your House Tonight)
PETE AND ESME FIC BABY!!!! Featuring Little! Pete and CG! Esme. These two are so cute I couldn't help but write a fic about them.
@pete-spankoffski since they're inspired by our rps <3
--Summary:
Pete’s used to school being less than great, but somehow today might have been the worst day he’s ever had. It’s not long before Esme catches on to what’s wrong, and luckily she knows how to help him.
--
Peter Spankoffski is used to school not being less than great. When you go to Hatchetfield High and have to be under the Jagerman’s rule, that’s just expected. All you can really do is keep your head down, hope you draw attention to yourself, and get on with the day. And Pete’s done that for as long as he can remember. He doesn’t really expect good days at school anymore, just bearable ones.
Today, however, didn’t even manage to be bearable. In fact, as he’s walking home from that hellscape of a school called Hatchetfield High, Pete decides this might just be the worst day at school he’s ever had. Even the day Brad Callahan pantsed him in 7th grade was mildly better than the personal hell he just went through today.
He doesn’t really want to think about today too much. It’s practically been a blur, anyways. All he really remembers is that he woke up way too early in the morning, he’d been basically alone the whole day (Ruth having to do lights for a full-day rehearsal and Steph and Richie being off sick), Max Jagerman had somehow been worse than usual (Pete had been welcomed into the school with Max tripping him up, bruising his knees and knocking off his glasses), and the cherry on top of it all was that his sensory issues decided to be as crappy as possible, making every noise too loud, every light too bright and every surface that wasn’t his sweater feel weird and uncomfy.
Now he’s just trying to get home, back to the safety of his room and not have a meltdown. Rose’s gone with Olive and Jamie to some theatre thing, and Ted’s not going to get back from work any time soon, so luckily they won’t see him in this state. He’s angry and tired and so overstimulated right now that he’s not really paying attention to anything around him.
Suddenly there’s the screech of car breaks while he’s crossing the street, jolting him into awareness. He turns to see an annoyed looking driver who’s stopped their car, presumably not to hit Pete.
“Watch where you’re going, you idiot!” the driver yells.
Pete winces at the yelling. He’s in a worse mood than the driver, apparently, and this is just adding to everything that happened today.
“Maybe you watch where you're driving!” Pete snaps back, before running across the street and into the apartment block.
Miraculously, Pete somehow manages to get into the apartment and up to his room without having a meltdown. He slams the bedroom door shut - which is a little pointless, considering no one else is home, but he’s too tired to care as he slides down onto the floor. The overstimulation doesn’t seem to be going away like he hoped it would, the lights in his room being way too bright, the hum of the air conditioner worming its way into his ears. He knows he should probably get up and turn them off, but he doesn’t feel like getting up. Pete brings his knees to his chest, leaning his head back on the door frame. He whines a bit, gripping and tugging at his bow tie.
“Peter?”
A voice says his name. Esme’s voice. Pete looks up to see her standing over him, a look of concern on her face.
“Hi, Esme,” he says, voice quieter than usual.
He doesn’t really remember when Esme became a part of his life, and she isn’t sure when he became a part of hers, either. Pete also isn’t sure where she’s from or if she’s even human, given how she doesn’t really show up when other people are around. But a bond’s grown between them, one of affection for each other. They can recognize how the other’s feeling most of the time, and right now Esme can tell Pete isn’t feeling too good.
“Are you okay, little one?” asks Esme, red hair draped across her face. She kneels down to his level to get a better look at him. The ‘little one’ nickname makes him feel fuzzy inside.
“‘M fine,” he mumbles, unconvincingly. “School was just crap today, what’s new?”
“What’s new is that you usually don’t come back from school like this. Did something happen?”
“A lot happened…” Pete admits, burying his face back in knees, muffling his voice a bit.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Esme puts a hand on his shoulder, gentle yet firm. Something in Pete cracks, and tears start slipping out of his eyes and down his face. He tries to wipe them away, but that just causes Esme to notice and get more concerned. “Peter? What - what’s wrong? What happened at school today, sweetheart?”
And that’s when everything from today is just too much to hold in any longer.
Pete breaks out in sobs, unable to stop himself. Esme is initially surprised by the outburst, but quickly realises he’s having a meltdown. She switches the lights off, turns down the AC a bit, before approaching Peter carefully.
“Oh, Peter,” she whispers. “Come here, baby.” She gently pulls him into a hug, one he just lets himself melt into, clinging onto her like a lifeline as she wraps her arms around him. He grips onto her waistcoat, sobbing on her chest. She rubs circles on his back, soothing him, letting him get it all out.
After some time, Pete’s sobs die down into hiccups and sniffling, though he keeps his face buried in Esme’s chest. He feels bad for getting her pretty waistcoat all wet with tears and snot, but neither of them seem to want to let go. Esme runs a soothing hand through Pete’s hair, playing with it a bit.
“Ssh…it’s okay, sweetheart, it’s okay. You’re okay,” Esme whispers into his ear, her voice quite, hushed, calming. Safe. Esme’s voice felt safe. Mama’s voice felt safe.
Feeling himself slipping, Pete blinks, trying (and failing) to stay big. Crying made him really tired, and a little hungry too. His head feels all dizzy. He looks up at Esme, tugging on her arm.
“What is it, little one?” asks Esme, wiping the remaining tears from his eyes.
“Dizzy,” he manages to get out. Words feel hard right now.
“Is it your blood sugar?”
When Pete nods, Esme reaches over to his bag, pulling out one of the spare candy bars he keeps in there, unwrapping it and offering it to him. Pete takes it from her, the sweetness of the chocolate and the sugar making him feel a lot better already.
“Thank you, Mama,” Pete’s words slur together, and the nickname slips out of his mouth before he can stop himself. So much for staying big. He finishes the candy bar, putting the wrapper in the nearby waste bin.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Esme smiles, patting him on the head. “You’re a very polite boy, Peter. And very clean too.”
Pete giggles, which quickly turns into a yawn. He tries to blink himself awake, but he’s really, really sleepy.
“Tired, little one?” asks Esme, chuckling a bit when he yawns. Pete shakes his head, but then he yawns again, so he doesn’t end up seeming very convincing. Esme leads him to his bed, letting him rest his head on her lap.
“‘M not sleepy,” Pete insists again, a bold claim considering his eyes are barely open. Esme playfully raises an eyebrow. Pete pounts at her. “I’m not!”
“Really?” Esme picks a stuffed dinosaur off the bed. “Because Mezzo says otherwise.” Pete’s eyes widen at Mezzo, and he makes grabby hands for the stuffed toy.
“Mezzo’s silly,” Pete mumbles, stuffing his face into Mezzo, yawning again.
“Alright then. You don’t have to sleep, but you can lay here and play with Mezzo a bit, alright?”
“M’kay Mama!”
Pete starts a half-asleep ramble to Mezzo, asking the stuffed toy about Dinosaurs and pretending it can respond. Esme messes with his hair a bit, humming ‘you are my sunshine,’ half to herself and half to Pete. It’s a moment of peace, of love and tenderness for the two of them.
After some time, Pete falls asleep, mid-sentence in a ramble to Mezzo. Esme removes his glasses from his nose, putting them on the desk for now. Pete unconsciously curls in on himself, holding Mezzo close to his chest, mumbling sleepily. Esme leans down, planting a kiss on his forehead.
“Goodnight, Little one,” she whispers, caressing his check. Even in his sleep, a small smile creeps up on Pete’s face. Maybe today hadn’t been all bad after all.
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Hell
Read on AO3
Final Part of Father Dearest
“Hell. With Crowley.” Your eyes looked between the three men. “I’m sorry, Dean.” You said quietly.
Crowley gave you a small smile. “I promise you won’t regret this, love. You and the children will want for nothing.” You smiled back at him.
“I’ll support you.” Dean told you. You could tell he was upset, but he had promised you that much. “You and the twins always have a place here, you know that.” He added.
“Thank you, Dean.” You replied. “And it’s not like you’ll never see us. I mean, I’m going to want to visit. Whenever you’re at the bunker, I’ll make a point to visit for a day or something.” You shrugged. “The children deserve a chance to have their parents together, as unconventional as everything has been. And I believe they will be safest there.” You pointed out. “No hunter would ever look at them and not want to harm them, you know that.”
Dean nodded. “We’ll miss you.”
“We will.” Sam agreed.
You gave them a playful smirk. “Admit it, you’re looking forward to getting sleep.” You teased, trying to lighten the mood a bit.
-5 years old-
“Stop it, Clark!” You heard your daughter yell from the throne room.
“Make me!” He snapped back.
Rolling your eyes, you wandered over to them. “Now, what’s wrong this time?” You looked between your two children, arms crossed over your chest.
Lana looked at you, clearly upset. “He says that I’m not his real sister because I don’t have cool powers like his.”
You raised an eyebrow at them. “Really? You’re arguing over your powers?” You asked. “Clark, just because your sister has different powers doesn’t mean anything. Look in the mirror. She’s your sister.”
Clark shrugged and ran off. Clark, while having discovered his powers early, hadn’t mastered them. They were out of his control at times. Lana, however, didn’t show any signs of hers until she was a toddler. And she’d mastered them quickly. She still had little moments, like when she was extremely upset, but those were rare.
-10 years old-
You were visiting the bunker for the weekend, as Crowley had some business to attend to. The children were getting restless, and you were too tired to keep up with them. You were only a couple months pregnant, so all you wanted to do was nap. Sam and Dean were a huge help, not minding if you happened to nod off on the couch. They had even offered to watch them for a bit after this baby was born. You told them you’d consider it.
Dean came running in, out of breath. “They can really move!” He panted, putting his hands on his knees.
You laughed. “Well, yeah. Just be glad nothing has blown up.” He gave you a look of horror. “It’s usually stupid things, but it has happened.”
He shook his head. “Props to you, man. I don’t know how you do it.” He sighed, sitting next to you. “Okay, Sam can fly solo for a little bit.” His head leaned back and he closed his eyes for a moment before you both heard a loud crash. Followed by Sam’s voice. “Or not.” He groaned, getting up.
“I’ll bake you a pie later as a thanks.” You smiled.
-15 years old-
“Why not, mom?!” Lana yelled, arms crossed.
You sighed. “Because it’s not safe for you!” You told her. She was trying to convince you to let her go on a date with a human she had met when out with Dean one day. “We don’t know who’s a hunter, Lana! We don’t know if you’ll be safe.”
She glared at you. “I’m sure I can deal with one human teenager.”
Crowley walked in, raising his eyebrow. “What’s all this about?”
“Lana wants to go on a date.” That alone made Crowley’s mood falter. “With a human.”
“Dad! You’re married to a human!” She defended her choice.
Crowley sighed. “That…is entirely different.” He explained. Neither of you had ever told the children about how you really got pregnant. It didn’t seem like you needed to.
She flopped on her large bed. “How? How is that any different?”
“For starters, she was an adult.” He walked closer, hands in his pockets. “Secondly, this all started because your mother asked for a deal.” His voice was quiet.
Sitting up, she looked between the two of you. “Mom?”
You sat next to her, nodding. “Before you were born, I loved Uncle Dean. A lot. However, he didn’t seem to love me back. Always going for the pretty, skinny girls. I asked your father for a deal. My soul for the perfect body.” You glanced at your husband. “He refused. Told me I was prefect the way I was. Well, Dean found out. What happened between your father and myself was supposed to remain a one time thing. Apparently, Dean thought I was too good for him.” Retelling this was hard, as there were so many emotions at the time. “We slowly became a couple. Until I got really tired, and sick. A month and a half after I asked your father for a deal, I found out I was pregnant. I ran. I was scared. No matter how hard they looked, they couldn’t find me. The only one who knew where I was…was Uncle Cas.” She was staring at you. “By chance, they found me. A lot of fighting happened, a lot of tears. I came to hell with your father for a bit, so he could be there for part of the pregnancy. When I was eight months pregnant, I started living at the bunker, too uncomfortable in hell. Your father joined me. We stayed there until you and your brother were two months old. That’s when I decided to be with him.”
“So you see, love, it’s not because we’re hypocrites, it’s because we were all but forced together. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.” He told her.
She made a face. “I’m never looking at Uncle Dean the same way again…” She groaned. “Never mind. I’m going to see what Clark is doing.”
-18 years old-
“Keep them safe, Sam.” You told him.
He smiled. “I will.” Lana had decided to go to college, online, but college. Clark was never far from his sister. While he spent half his time in hell, where he preferred, he did spend a lot of time with the boys.
“I can’t believe Lana is moving out, and Clark will be splitting his time now. Where has the time gone?”
Sam chuckled. “You still have Duncun.” He pointed out. “He’s a handful, isn’t he.”
You let out a breath. “Yes, that he is. Speaking of which, I should probably go save the babysitter.” You went through babysitters way too fast. They just didn’t seem to want to watch him again.
The two of you hugged before you went to say goodbye to your twins. “You can come home whenever you want.” You told Lana.
You returned to hell to find that Duncun had tied up his babysitter and ran off to play with the hell hounds. You untied her and went looking for him. “Duncun Roderick MacLeod!” You hollered, knowing he’d hear you.
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Can i please order a vanilla cake with fruit loaf (au where Secre doesn't know Leo's royalty) and a cakepop (where they're like running away from guards or something and he has to tell her he's a prince) for Leopold x Secre? saw your post about this ship and think it could be cool. thanks
“Hey!” A male voice yells. Secré’s head perks up as she turns her head. She sees none other than her friend Leopold running in her general direction. Well, she wouldn’t exactly word it as ‘friend’ seeing as they’ve only met one time before this.
She had transformed into her human form in front and Leopold happened to be near enough to see it. He was absolutely amazed by her bird form. He talked to her, to which she tried her best to stop, but in the end they ended up talking for a few hours. She thought he was pretty pleasant to be around considering he didn’t stress her out as much as other people. Still, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t describe him as loud and annoying.
He grabbed her arm as he was running by, Secré quickly began to run with him so she wouldn’t fall.
“Hey, Secré! It’s great seeing you again…! How have you been?” Leopold starts small talk as they’re running at full speed.
“Why exactly are we running away…?”
Leopold gets a confused expression for a moment as if he didn’t know the reason himself. “Oh! It’s my sister. Yeah, we and my brother have to attend a fancy party thing…”
Secré wanted to talk more, but but was sort of difficult because she was starting to run out of breath. Leopold notices this and decides just picking her up would be the best choice, so he does just that.
“What are you doing?!” She muttered in shock.
“You look tired, so I’m carrying you!”
She sighed softly and turned into a bird, she sat on Leo’s shoulder.
“Oh… Yeah, that works!”
Leopold takes a turn and runs a bit more before stopping and sitting down harshly. “Ugh… I’m out of breath. I think we lost her though.” He wipes his sleeve on his forehead.
Secré flies off and sat next to him in her human form.
“So… A fancy party thing?”
Leopold nods, “Yeah, my brother is making my sister and she wants to make me go too because she doesn’t want to be the only one forced to go.”
“I see, that makes sense. Which noble family are you from?” Secré asks him. Leo chuckled to himself.
“Oh, I’m not a noble. I’m a royal. Leopold Vermillion.”
“…You’re a royal?” She questioned him.
He happily nods, “Yeah! Is that so surprising?”
She shrugs her shoulders, “I guess not. You’re just a lot more lively than a lot of other royalty.”
Leopold laughs. “You should meet my sister! She’s like a wild animal! I mean… she practically is one!” He pauses for a few moments and his face softens. “Sorry for dragging you along with me, I just saw and thought, ‘Hey, it’s her!’”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” She replies.
He thinks for a moment. “Are you nobility? Your mana feels like one. Of course it wouldn’t matter to me whether you are or not, I’m just curious.”
“Uh, yeah. I used to be a nobility, but that was a long time ago.”
“Oh, I see… Well, I think you’re really cool! Sealing magic? I’ve never even heard of it before!”
‘Lumiere…’
“Are you alright?” Leopold asks with a bit of concern. “You spaced out for a moment.”
“Yes, I’m fine. You just reminded me of someone I used to know.” Secré answers. Leo smiles and tilts his head.
“Really? Were they cool?” He asks with a good amount of enthusiasm.
“…Yes. He was. He was kind and he was the first one who appreciated my abilities.” Secré reminisced on the sweet memory.
Leopold listened carefully and scoffed. “So does that make me only number 2?”
Secré is quiet for a moment and smiles gently. “Well, I’ve made a few friends since then and they’re good ones… but you’re probably the one that reminds me the most of him.”
“Hm… I’m glad. Anyway… Do you wanna go out sometime?” He asked out of the blue.
“What? Like on a date?”
Leopold happily nodded as if this was a normal thing. “Yeah! I think you’re gorgeous and fun to talk to. You’ve got unique magic and you’re super interesting to me.”
She thinks to herself for a few moments and nods. “I guess that’d be fine with me.”
Leo’s eyes light up. “Really? Thanks, Secré!”
She shook her head. “Please just call me Nero. I didn’t think we’d talk again so I gave you a name I didn’t use anymore, sorry.”
Leopold was still beaming, the news didn’t even seem to affect him. “Alright, Nero! How about we meet up here tomorrow at noon?”
Nero nods in agreement. “That sounds like a plan.” Leopold felt an overwhelming amount of pride.
“LEO!” A loud female voice yelled.
“Looks like Mereoleona is near… I’ll see you tomorrow, Nero!” Leopold waves and runs off.
Nero waves slightly as he leaves her view. ‘Leo may be similar to Lumiere, but they’re different people… I look forward to learning the differences between them.’
#Leopold Vermillion#Secre Swallowtail#Nero#Black Clover#request#fanfiction#Leopold x Nero#Leopold x Secre
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[Video transcript begin.]
[The transcript begins with someone holding their phone, they are seemingly sitting on a bench. They take a deep sigh as loud music identified as "All I want for Christmas is you" is heard over a speaker.]
?: I am going to kill someone I swear.
[Voice identified: Mari.]
M: Will this music ever SHUT UP!
[Metallic clanks are heard just barely over the music, as well as laughter, it sounds non-human.]
M: Ugh… Has it really been three hours? Listen you and I both know you won't ki-
[The source of the noise moves into frame, shrouded in shadow. Their eyes shine like a wild animals would in the low light.]
?: Are you sure you know me well enough to make assumptions like that?
[Voice identified: Cassius.]
M: You are the one who told me you wouldn't kill me cuz I was taking care of a kid, and when I gave you the chance you said no.
C: THAT WAS BEFORE THIS FUCKING SONG GOT STUCK PLAYING ON LOOP OVER THE DAMN SPEAKERS. GET OVER HERE.
[He lunges towards the bench.]
M: Nope!
[Mari hops off the bench as Cassius flies into it, the song still playing as they begin running.]
[Cassius shouts in frustration, before giving chase, his footsteps heavy on the tile floor of the mall.]
M: Gonna have to catch me jackass!
C: You motherfucker! Get back here so I can gut you!
M: I have a kid to get out of this mall so not happening you bitch!
[Mari takes a sharp left turn, throwing a trash can at Cassius as they do.]
C: If you let me kill you, you won’t have to hear this infernal music anymore!
M: My point remains!
[The footsteps behind Mari turn to a sort of… scuttling, as Cassius switches to using the spider legs. Before switching back.]
M: If you want to kill me you have to get sparrow out!
C: I don’t have to do shit!
M: Then I ain't letting you catch me!
[Another corner is turned, a loud yell, then a crash can be heard behind Mari. Almost as if several cardboard boxes had fallen down.]
C: FUCKING HELL–
[Mari laughs, their laugh seemingly being one of joy and malice.]
M: GET FUCKED!
C: That tends to happen, yeah!
M: I doubt you get that much play.
C: You’d be surprised, Mari! Not like you’d know what works out there, you’ve only had like, one girlfriend! Where even is she?
[Mari points at someone barely out of frame.]
M: Right there apparently.
[Mari turns the phone, in view is someone with black hair wearing a showfall mask. They run off after about 5 seconds.]
M: Nevermind. Anyway you don't even HAVE a girlfriend.
C: Never wanted one! I don’t do that shit, jackass!
M: That why you fucked one of your bosses?
C: THERE’S A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A ONE NIGHT THING AND A LONG TERM RELATIONSHIP.
M: FAIR ENOUGH! BUT YOU CAN'T TALK ABOUT ME NOT KNOWING WHAT WORKS. I HAVEN'T HAD THE CHANCE I TURNED 18 INSIDE THIS HELLHOLE!
C: HOW THE FUCK DID WE GET ON THIS TOPIC!?
M: BECAUSE YOU TOOK 'Get fucked' A BIT TOO LITERAL!
[A short pause.]
C: STOP RUNNING SO I CAN MURDER YOU.
M: NO YOU FUCKER! No pun intended.
[Mari laughs as they continue running.]
[This continues for another few minutes, before the music in the background suddenly comes to a halt.]
M: What.
[Mari stops, the phone jolting as they do.]
C: Huh.
M: Did. The music just. Stop?
C: Guess they fixed it.
M: So uh… What now?
C: I don’t know. My main motivation is gone. So I guess I just… head back to the offices.
M: What the fuck.
C: What, do you want me to keep trying to murder you?
M: You wouldn't kill me anyway. You already proved that.
C: If you weren’t as fast as you are, I would’ve.
M: Bullshit. A. You've been given multiple opportunities. B. The deal with will.
[Cassius takes a few steps towards Mari.]
C: Please don’t mention the deal, not out in the open.
M: Fine. Whateve-
[Mari yawns, quite loudly.]
C: Jesus Christ. Do you not sleep at all? Why are you so fuckin’ tired?
M: Did you HEAR the music?
C: Of course I heard the fucking music! I’m talking about in general, asshole!
M: NO! I've been taking care of the kid, and if you were experimented on trapped in a dark room for god knows how long and your mom was a wire monster. YOU WOULD HAVE NIGHTMARES TOO.
C: … Get them a journal.
M: What?
C: You heard me. Get them a journal.
M: Wha- Why?
C: Are you dense? For the damn nightmares. Writing down things like that helps sometimes.
M: Oh… Um… Where am I gonna find one… Here?
C: … I’ll grab you one tomorrow. Just. Go back to your stupid area. I’m leaving.
M: Uh… Sure. Cool… Just uh… Ask Will for our location.
[Cassius nods, then, a few seconds later, his eyes widen slightly, realizing what he’s just done.]
C: [Whispered.] Fuck.
M: Hold on. If you ever… And I mean EVER. need help, big or small… Y'know where to find me Cass.
[Mari puts their head down, seemingly whispering.]
M: [Whispered.] Sparrow wants you and Ophelia to be ok… for will.
[Cassius stares at Mari, his expression hardens, yet his eyes are full of fear.]
C: I don’t need your fuckin’ help, Editor. And don’t call me ‘Cass’. We aren’t friends.
M: Ha… Haha… Hahahahaha…
[Mari breaks into a fit of laughter, this time the tone is more somber and caring.]
[He takes a few steps back, before turning around fully and walking away, his steps quicken as he gets farther away. He vanishes around a corner a few seconds later.]
M: Can't lie to me… God damnit why do I…
[Mari falls to the ground, seemingly confused.]
M: Why do I care… That idiot is nothing but an asshole to me but… Ugh. If he doesn't want…
[Mari stops, they continue laughing for 30 seconds before yawning again.]
M: If you see this, Will cares about you… And strike system or not I think you do too… So until you take things one step too far… I'm gonna try and help you. Because William is my friend too you dick.
[Mari yawns again, before passing out in a dark corner. The phone stays on for roughly 30 minutes before shutting off.]
[End transcript.]
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Five Times Belphegor Heard You, And One Time You Heard Him (Ft. Belphegor and GN! MC)
Warnings: Season one spoilers, Belphegor blames the reader for lots of things that aren’t their fault, mentions of Beel eating MC (nothing happens though), Belphegor wishes lots of harm on MC, Beel yells at MC a little, MC apologizes to Beel for something that’s technically not their fault.
Length: 1k words
Genre: Angst, hurt
Summary: Though no one can hear him, Belphegor can hear everything. Including you.
This fic is part 1 of an ongoing series, here are the links to the other parts:
| Part 1 (you are here) | Part 2 |
This originally started as a random thought, like 'Hey, I wonder if Belphegor would've heard MC singing when they thought they were alone' and then it just...spiraled from there. Also, I realized partway through writing this that it's a little canon divergent. MC actually meets Belphegor BEFORE the custard incident in the game. For this fic, just...pretend they didn't meet till after. This will probably be my last *big* post before the Impending Thing, but I'll be back ASAP! I try to be very thorough when writing the warnings, please let me know if I should add any though! I hope you enjoy!
-Ethereal (✿◡‿◡)
Story below, please don't claim as your own!
Belphegor knew the exchange program was going to happen. Honestly, he knew the moment all his brothers voted against him that it was set in stone. It didn’t matter that he hated it, didn’t matter that the idea of having a human in his house made him see red, because it’s what Lord Diavlo wanted.
He was so sure that nothing good was going to come of it. As far as he was concerned, nothing good ever happened when humans and celestial beings mixed. Him being locked in the attic was proof that he was right. You hadn’t even arrived yet, and you were already tearing the family apart.
Him being locked in the attic was also proof that the exchange program really was happening.
Even so, he was still surprised the first time he heard your voice.
So you were the new exchange student.
You sounded so shy when you asked if could go home. You sounded so sweet, so innocent, he almost forgot what you were. Almost.
“You’re still worried about the human world?” The voice was obnoxiously loud, even though you had probably been standing right beside him. Mammon. You didn’t know Mammon well enough at the time, but Belphegor did. He knew his scummy older brother well enough to hear the undertones of concern.
Was he seriously worried about you? How could any of his brothers even bring themselves to care? Had they really forgotten what you’d done? To Lilith? To him? To their family? Did they even care anymore?
***
The second time he heard you, you had woken him up. He wasn’t exactly sure what time it was, but he definitely knew he was far too tired to be woken up by your screaming.
“You…ate…my…CUSTARD!”
That was definitely Beel. Even if he didn’t recognize his voice, no one else in the house would’ve been that upset about custard. He didn’t like hearing his twin so unhappy, but he couldn’t help snickering.
He knew humans were stupid, but eating Beel’s food? Even you should’ve known better than that.
Belphie heard you screech again as Beel roared.
Maybe, if he was lucky, Beel would just finish you off right then and there. The way he saw it, it was a win-win. Beel would get some food, and Lucifer wouldn’t have a reason to keep him locked up anymore. Beel wouldn’t even get in trouble because no one blamed him when he got too hungry.
Well, you would’ve lost, but he was more than fine with that. You would’ve gotten what you deserved.
Unfortunately, Mammon jumped to your defence, and shortly after, Lucifer got involved. Everyone’s tempers cooled before things got too out of hand, much to his dismay.
***
The third time he heard you was only a few hours after the custard incident. Once again, you weren’t alone.
“I’m really sorry I destroyed your room.” It was Beel again. “I just got really hungry.”
“It’s alright.” You sounded a little shaken up, and Belphie laughed again. He knew how scary Beel could get, and he could only imagine how much that had frightened you. Good. You deserved it.
“I’m sorry Mammon made me eat your food.” It wasn’t your idea, then. Well, at least you weren’t quite that stupid. Although…if it wasn’t your idea, why did you apologize? And why did you sound so genuine if it wasn’t even your fault?
“Kind of awkward that Lucifer’s making us room together now, huh?” You added a small laugh to the end of the sentence.
“No,” Beel deadpanned. “You seem like good company. I’m glad I get to spend time with you.”
“Oh…um, thanks?”
By then, you were out of earshot, and he couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation. Well, at least Beel seemed to like you.
Maybe you weren’t as bad as he originally thought.
***
The fourth time he heard you, you had woken him up yet again. It was a habit of yours he really wasn’t fond of. Music was blasting through the house, and you were singing. Quite loudly.
You were certainly giving it your all. The song was upbeat, and you were matching the energy perfectly. Maybe you weren’t the best singer he’d ever heard, but there was something about your voice he really liked.
Even stranger, despite the fact that he was exhausted, he didn’t want to go to sleep just yet.
Suddenly, the music cut off.
“Satan? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were home!” The previous joy in your voice had disappeared, replaced by your usual awkward demeanor.
Maybe that’s why he liked it so much. Most of the time, you sounded so timid, like you were afraid to say the wrong thing. When you were singing, you sounded to brave. So free. You were being yourself, and you were comfortable.
No. That was wrong. It had to be.
Why would he want you to be happy?
You tore his family apart.
***
The fifth time he heard you, you were far closer than he expected.
“Hello? Is anyone up here?” There was a gentle knock on the door, and he bolted upright.
“Huh?”
It wasn’t the most intelligible response, but he was so shocked. How had you managed to get up here? He’d called out to you before, but he’d never received a response. He figured you couldn’t hear him because of the enchantment Lucifer had put on the door.
“Is someone there?” You repeated. He could see your shadow casted on the floor.
He scrambled out of bed towards the door, pausing just before you could see him. He only had one shot at this. He had to be careful. He composed himself, then stepped around the corner.
So, this was you. Finally, a face to the mysterious voice he’d been hearing the past few weeks. You were kind of cute, actually. Against all odds, he’d started to grow a little fond of you. Though you were responsible for the downfall of his entire family, you had a really nice singing voice. You also seemed to be helping Beel in his absence. Of course, if it wasn’t for you, he wouldn’t be absent in the first place.
Still, if he was being honest with himself, part of him liked you.
Belphegor never claimed to be an honest man, though.
“You’ve got to help me. I’m a human, just like you.”
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bad behavior | jjk | m
This is in the same universe as “bad influence.” It can, however, be read as a stand-alone.
— summary; in which staying late to volunteer at a self-help meeting was the best decision you made in a while.
— contents and warnings; smut, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, public sex (in a church…), dirty talk, fingering, degradation (name calling) but also praise, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, cum play, there is a window and also reflections, rough sex, cockwarming, jk being a lil shit because that’s his main personality trait, jk smokes (only mentioned), enemies to fuckbuddies: dawn of the first day
— words; 8.2k
— author’s note; for the anon that asked how their first time was like ;) join me as we explore the lore of this godforsaken couple
It was your mother’s idea for you to find a new place to volunteer. According to her, it had been a long time since you experienced “the invigorating energy of community work” — last time was when you were trying to level up your college application — and it could really “soothe your anxious soul” during the trying times of college finals. Apparently one tutoring program and two research projects weren’t enough to distract you, but you could see where she was coming from.
In the end, you accepted. The old places you used to volunteer in had either shut off their programs or were just too far away from college for you to consider. At first, you decided to follow your mother’s suggestion and tried to work with children — “small miracles”, as she called them — in a local daycare. Which ended up being a terrible idea.
You liked giving back to the community, you really did, but it wasn’t long until you realized that working with infants hasn’t been your wisest decision, and that children weren’t miracles at all. You got tired of going home covered in paint and with pieces of playdough entangled in your hair, and that was when you weren’t unlucky enough to get hit with other, less clean fluids.
So you eventually gave up — both on the daycare and on the faint idea of one day going into pediatrics — and searched for a new place. After having to yell your way through retirement homes, and getting fed up with washing people’s sidewalks, you finally settled in a program that was flexible and light enough for your intense college hours: preparing (and then later cleaning up) a room that was reserved in a local church for weekly meetings.
The entire ordeal took about two to three hours off your day, and more than half of it was spent as free time: waiting for the meeting to end, cramming piles of information in a small room next door. You didn’t really know what the meetings were about since they changed practically every month — they were, at first, a support group for teenage mothers, then it became an AA meeting, then a group for drug users trying to quit. Lately, you were starting to think that the church just gave away the room for whoever had the money to rent it, so it wasn’t a surprise when it was reserved for a motivational speaker to give confidence lessons.
You had researched the guy, some old dude with an unpronounceable name and a sketchy background, and found exactly the type of person you had expected. Yes, you were in the house of Christ, but you were still being heavily judgmental of the fact that he was giving those talks when he had no qualifications whatsoever, and was probably making bank off all the self-help books he regurgitated at least twice a year to prey on vulnerable people. You did share your worries with the administrative office of the church, but they ultimately fell on deaf ears, and you gave up on the idea of kicking his ass out of the holy grounds anytime soon.
It was after one of those pseudo-motivational talks that you walked into the empty room, ready to clean everything up before rushing back to your place, where your roommate had promised to greet you with some wonderful takeout. The chairs were still placed in a circle on the center of the room, where they had been since forever, and you made sure to align them perfectly before you moved on to the litter that had been thrown around the place.
One good thing about those self-help meetings was that they were a lot cleaner than a lot of other attendees, so the “picking up the trash until your back started to hurt” part passed by surprisingly fast. You had just moved on to the snack table, analyzing what you could still save, when your soul almost left your body.
“Hey, you,” you heard a known voice behind you. “What are you doing in here?”
You swiftly turned around, heart thumping violently against your ribcage. You didn’t know how you hadn’t let out the biggest, most blood-curdling scream ever, but that was just the first of many miracles of the night. “Jesus Christ,” you wheezed out, taking one hand to your chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like this.” You swallowed dry, some part of your brain recalling that he had asked you a question. “And I’m volunteering here.”
“I didn’t sneak up on you, you’re just jumpy.” Jungkook scoffed, leaning against the doorframe with that stupid playful smirk curling up on his lips. You didn’t know they allowed demons inside the church. “And of course you are.” He rolled his eyes.
Maybe a few months back, his mocking tone would’ve stung a bit more. However, you had been tutoring Jungkook for about three months then, suffering through endless sessions of his whining and complaining, and you’ve grown used to his passive-aggressive antics already. You learned that Jungkook was a shark seeking for blood, waiting for any crack that would allow him to jump into a perverse little joke — about how you behaved, your priorities, or even the color of your highlighter. You, of course, always stood your ground and threw his comments right back at him — which was his initial plan, as you’ve come to realize. Jungkook enjoyed playfully arguing with you, and you thought that it was another level of strangeness and masochism you simply didn’t have time to dissect.
Still, Jungkook (shockingly) wasn’t the terrible person you once thought he was. Every once in a while — when he was trying to talk you out of teaching him — the conversations you two would have were actually mostly pleasant, and he wasn’t awful to hang around when he dropped the whole badass persona to act like a real human being. You would even dare to say that Jungkook could be actually funny at times, and not in the bitter, sarcastic way he usually was. Sometimes, you dared to think, he could actually be reasonably nice. And also kind of cute. Even hot.
But you would never actually admit any of that out loud. Or even to yourself, really.
“And you?” You asked, turning back around to face the table full of half-eaten food. That looked like a battlefield, and you could already tell that there were only a few survivors left standing. “What are you doing here? Repenting?”
Jungkook chuckled dryly. “You wish. My parents want me to quit smoking,” he said. You could not see him, but you could hear him walking closer to you as you fumbled with the large Tupperware. “We settled on this crap instead of a forced intervention.”
You scoffed. Most of the food before you was unsalvageable — some of the cupcakes had been bitten once and then placed back, and you wondered how someone like that could function in society. “You don’t seem very motivated to quit,” you mumbled.
Jungkook clicked his tongue. “I don’t really care.”
His voice was much closer to you, and you felt the air leaving your lungs for a pitiful instant. You convinced yourself you had only gotten scared again. “You should care about the growing possibility of lung cancer.”
He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really on the top of my list of priorities at the moment.”
“And what is?” You asked.
“Amongst other things…” he trailed off and, suddenly, he was standing besides you, pointing at the chaotic pile of sweets. “I actually came back to grab another one of those cupcakes. The chocolate ones are great.”
You didn’t know why, but his comment broke the odd tension that you didn’t even know that was there, clicking you back into your previous mentality — the one that you just wanted to finish cleaning up so you could leave soon. “All yours,” you told him, “grab as many as you want.”
Jungkook hummed in satisfaction, reaching out to grab one special brown cupcake — an untouched one, thankfully. “I love when you talk dirty.” He almost moaned before shoving the cupcake inside his mouth, taking a huge bite off it. Dramatically, Jungkook rolled his eyes and sighed in delight. “These are fucking great.”
You chuckled, glancing at his direction. Jungkook was dressed in all black, like he usually was, and you were starting to recognize a newfound admiration towards his constant use of leather jackets. What? He looked good. “I’m glad the self-help sessions are paying off,” you commented, swiftly placing the cupcakes inside the transparent container.
Jungkook was paying attention to your actions now, like he noticed you were there working for the first time. “What are you doing with the rest?”
“The church will probably donate it, give it to the homeless or something.” You shrugged. “Or they’ll eat it, I don’t know. I just clean up the place and leave.”
Jungkook laughed at that, taking another monstrous bite from his cupcake and throwing himself on one of the nearby chairs. Your eye twitched a little at the thought that he had ruined your perfect circle, but you’d have to fix that on your way out. “Sounds absurdly boring,” he sang. “And they’re not even paying you.”
You sighed. “After all the places I’ve volunteered in, boring is a blessing,” you told him. You had just placed five hot dogs in the container, and you were starting to wonder if it would be a good idea to feed people in need with those suspicious sausages. “But, yeah, you probably don’t care about any of that.”
“You don’t know what I care about,” Jungkook said matter-of-factly. You didn’t know if he was trying to tease you, but his voice came out so soft and monotone that you couldn’t really be mad about it. It was true, after all: you didn’t actually know what he cared about. Sometimes you thought that he could read you better than you could read him. “Want me to stay here with you? This place is probably empty already.”
You could not hold back your laugh at that, turning around so you could look at him. “Are you offering to be my bodyguard? In a church?”
Jungkook pouted. There was a thin line of chocolate on the side of his lips, which he quickly licked clean. “I’m trying to be nice.”
You giggled, turning back towards the disgusting food. The rest was mostly trash, but you were happy enough with the amount you had managed to find in a good state. “That’s new.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. “I’m always nice.”
“Always is a strong word.” You smiled, closing the lid of the Tupperware. You had managed to fill three small containers with the leftovers and, honestly, that was a big victory. “But you can stay or you can leave, I don’t mind. I’m almost done anyways.”
He frowned. “Is that your answer?”
You turned around. “What? You want me to beg for your company?” You smiled. “You’re mistaken if you think I’d ever do that.”
“I’m staying.” Jungkook crumpled up the piece of cupcake wrapping and threw it in the trash can besides your body. He watched you for a moment as you started to throw the leftovers away, your back turned to him and a distracted look on your face. When he broke the silence again, you were throwing the last piece of bread in the bin. “Why are you volunteering?”
“Because I like giving back to the community.”
Jungkook sneered at your words. “Seriously now. Don’t lie, we’re in a church.”
“I do, actually,” you stood your ground. There was a vague sound of crickets coming from the half-open window and the low buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you, but, other than that, the city was covered in absolute silence. Perhaps that was why you felt so at peace. “But my mom told me it would be a good thing to keep myself relaxed. You know, take my mind off college stuff.”
He hummed, and you heard him getting up from the chair. “You always do what your mom tells you?”
You met his gaze. “Didn’t your parents make you come here?”
He smiled. “Not the point.”
Before you could hold yourself back, your lips were curling up. Again: Jungkook wasn’t absolutely awful to be around when he actually acted like a human being. “When she says something I agree with, yes,” you told him. “My ego isn’t bruised when it comes to following someone’s idea.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying that mine is?”
“I didn’t say that.” You smirked and turned back to the table. You started piling up the used plastic cups, already eyeing all the used plates, forks and knives that you’d have to throw away. The daycare had better eating manners than that. “Thought we were talking about me.”
“We were,” Jungkook agreed. One of his inked hands moved to the table, and you were about to tell him that he could eat more of the cupcakes when you realized that he had started to reach for the discardable plates, throwing them away. You really didn’t think he’d help you. “Finals are coming up, though, and you care about that shit. Shouldn’t you be using this time to study or something?”
“I study while you’re out here listening to becoming your real self or, I don’t know... waking up the giant within,” you said. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”
He hummed, his nose cringing up at the disgusting remains of food that stuck to the plastic forks. Jungkook seriously didn’t know how you could do that for fun. “You know there are better ways to relax than cleaning up a dusty room, right?”
“Probably,” you agreed. The cups were already in the trash, alongside with the plates, and there were only a few crumpled up napkins to get rid of before you tasted the sweet nectar of freedom. “But here I am. That’s what I chose for myself.”
“Literally any other option would’ve been better,” Jungkook pressed on. “Isn’t that obnoxious friend of yours in cheer or something?”
“Who? Jisoo?” You smiled at him. No one had ever called her obnoxious, but you couldn’t say that the title didn’t fit. Jisoo could be really… intense when it came to standing up for what she believed in. “She is. She invited me to join her already, if that’s what you’re gonna ask, but it’s not really my thing.”
“It’s a shame,” he mumbled, leaning against the table. It was a beautiful miracle how clean that room had become just by getting rid of the piles of gross food, and you had proudly thrown the last piece of paper inside the trash bin when Jungkook spoke up again. “You’d look really hot in that outfit.”
You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to digest the claim he had so mindlessly thrown your way. Just like all-things-Jungkook, a pleasant conversation could not last long, so you weren’t even surprised that he managed to ruin that talk with such a fuckboy-esque comment.
Also like all-things-Jungkook, he managed to awaken a reaction out of you that you didn’t even know could be there. With a faint heat in your cheeks and a frown blossoming amongst your features, you actually felt a little bit of... satisfaction with the fact that he thought that you’d look hot in that skimpy outfit. At the same time, you wanted to slap yourself for falling into his charms so easily.
In that conflicting turmoil of emotions, all you could say was a monotone, “You cannot be serious right now.”
Even if you kind of wanted him to be serious.
“I’m being dead serious,” Jungkook didn’t back down, much to the elation of your ego. You felt like a schoolgirl being recognized by her crush, and the idea alone made your stomach curl onto itself. What the hell were you even thinking about? Yeah, Jungkook was pretty hot, but he was also kind of a douche and you didn’t want to get involved with that mess of a person. Or at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I mean…” he continued, “you’re even rocking this knee-level dress right now, can’t even imagine how you’d look if—“
“You can shut up now, Jungkook, thanks,” you interrupted him. Because you didn’t know how to act when he was so blatantly flirting with you, you switched back to the same passive-aggressive behavior that you had given him for the past three months. Call it self-preservation, call it panic, but your mind simply didn’t know where to go from there. “And I’m also done here, so you can skidaddle back to whatever swamp you came out of.”
“Awn, don’t be mean, princess.” He pouted. Jungkook was a master at getting you worked up, and you had just given that to him on a silver platter. Maybe if you had mock-flirted back, he would’ve baked away. You would never know. “I was just fucking with you, you’re too easy to tease.”
You pressed your lips together, hip touching the corner of the now empty table. “You were pretty much harassing me,” you said playfully.
“I was not.” Jungkook smirked, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his pants. When had the two of you gotten so close? There was barely any space between your chests. “But it’s okay, I’m not gonna compliment you anymore, don’t worry. You don’t have to be so defensive.”
“I’m not being defensive,” you said, defensive.
“What, is it the church setting?” He raised his eyebrows, taking a look around. “Is it making you uncomfortable?”
“No,” you answered, crossing your arms before your chest. Jungkook followed the movement and his gaze got stuck on the shape of your breasts for a second too long, making a newfound wave of heat rise up to your cheeks. “Not as much as you’re trying to make me uncomfortable right now.”
He chuckled. “You do look cute when you’re shy,” Jungkook teased, taking a step towards you, and you took another one back, pretending you were just going to lean against the table. You sat on it in a weird diagonal position, with one leg still on the ground and the other dangling over the edge. Jungkook was so close that, when he spoke again, voice just above a whisper, you could feel his breath on your skin. “If you don’t want me here, just ask me to go and I’ll go.”
You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The atmosphere was filled with electricity, your body drowning in the warmth of his presence, the sharp seriousness in his dark eyes, and you could not bring yourself to say anything. Did you want him to leave?
No, you realized in a rush of adrenaline, you didn’t want him to leave at all.
Jungkook raised one of his eyebrows. “Hm? Nothing?” He smirked, placing himself between your legs. Every nerve of your body was screaming for you to touch him, to just wrap his mouth with yours, and you simply could not respond to any of its commands. “You’re full of surprises.”
You found your voice at that comment, heart hammering against your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” Jungkook placed one strand of your hair behind your ear, his gaze flickering down to your chest. From where he stood, he could see the beautiful mounds of your breasts peeking under the fabric, licking his lips at the sight. “Can I at least say that I like your dress?”
Jungkook’s palm slithered up your knee before you could even react, moving towards your inner thigh and raising your dress along with it. His touch was electrifying, and you found yourself craving more of it, a sigh caught on your throat at the tenderness of his hot skin.
“Something tells me that your compliment isn’t so innocent,” you told him, leaning your head back slightly so you could hold his gaze. “Aren’t you gonna complete that and say that I would look better without it?”
Jungkook chuckled. “The idea is compelling, I’ll admit it,” he said, rubbing soft circles on your skin. His other hand slithered around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “But don’t need to take it off to fuck you.”
Your eyes grew wide at that, brain short-circuiting. You frankly couldn’t believe that was happening — the fact that Jungkook was so shamelessly trying (and honestly succeeding) to initiate sex with you. In a fucking church too, of all places. “What- what did you say?”
“You heard what I said.” His stare didn’t falter. Jungkook was looking at you like he could eat you whole, and you seriously wouldn’t mind if he tried to. You'd deal with the social and psychological implications of that another time. “Just tell me to stop and I’ll do it, princess. No hard feelings, promise.”
This time, you spoke out and the firmness and certainty in your voice surprised even yourself. “I don’t want you to stop.”
“No?” His voice sounded like honey, so deep and melodic even through the thick layers of his sarcasm. You had never heard him get so serious, so focused, and the thought that it was all for you was igniting a fire inside your guts. “You wanna get fucked in a church?”
You bit your lip, blinking up at him. The point was: you wanted Jungkook, of all people, to fuck you. The fact that it was in a church was just the cherry on top, and you didn’t care about it as much as you should — your mom would be weeping blood if she knew what was going on, but you weren’t planning on telling anything to anybody. “And what if I do?” You asked back teasingly.
Jungkook smiled, knocking the breath right out of you. You could only hope that you didn’t look as horny as you felt, because your pride was still on the line. “Told you that you were full of surprises.” He pushed one of your legs open, making you lose your support on the floor. Now, both of your feet were dangling off the edge, body trapped between his strong arms and thighs on either side of him. “Are you a virgin, baby?”
You shook your head, and your voice reached you a bit later. “No.”
“Naughty,” Jungkook said, leaning in. He stared at you like a lion stalking its prey, his gaze lingering on your parted lips before, at last, he tilted his head to the side, deciding to move towards your neck instead. “But if you have the taste I think you do, you probably had some lame missionary sex with some goodie-two shoes.”
When he started kissing your neck, you almost forgot to give him a response. You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan, instead producing a low, shaky sigh. “And if I did? What’s the problem with some lame missionary sex?”
“No need to get mad, I’m on your side here,” Jungkook said, one of his hands navigating up your waist, between the valley of your breasts, before grabbing your boob. That time, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped you. “Did he make you cum?”
“Sometimes,” you said, slightly flustered. You didn’t think you’d be discussing your sexual history with Jungkook, but, well, there you were. “He was alright.”
“Only sometimes?” Jungkook chuckled, the vibrations of his deep timbre vibrating through the sensitive skin of your neck, his thumb grazing your nipple. The heat between your legs only grew, your entire body practically begging to feel more of him. “That’s a shame, I could do better.”
You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start getting cocky.”
“I never stopped being cocky,” he responded without hesitation. Well, he was right. “And I do have a good track record.”
“Doubt it,” you said, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips. You knew that you were playing a dangerous game, pressing right at the weak spots of his inflated ego to see how he would react. Perhaps you’d be luckier trying to poke a bear with a short stick. “You wouldn’t know the difference between a real and fake orgasm even if it hit you in the face.”
Jungkook leaned back and looked at you for an instant. You knew he had caught onto your challenge straight away. He liked it as much as you did, there was no doubt about that. “Let’s see, shall we?” he asked. There was no denying the devilish aura that was all around him now, suffocating you with its tempting heat. “How long do we have?”
“I’m locking up the room tonight,” you said, watching as his eyes sparked with an emotion you could not decipher. “But I wanna get home before ten. Have homework.”
You could see him fighting against the natural urge to ridicule you for saying something like that at such an odd time, but, at the end, he managed to avoid it. “More than enough time.” Jungkook placed one hand on the back of your neck, gaze darting hungrily toward your lips. “Come here.”
And then his mouth was on yours, and everything else was white noise. Jungkook kissed you much slower than you had anticipated, taking his sweet time caressing your mouth with his; hands exploring the curves of your body and teasing their way underneath your dress. He sighed heavily against your mouth when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, his soft tongue poking out and entering your mouth perfectly. Jungkook was a good kisser, you had to admit it, and he got your knees weak sooner than you’d like.
His body was hot and firm against yours and you could feel the outline of his abs underneath your fingers as you trailed your hands down his torso; his quick heartbeat drumming on your palms. Jungkook’s breathing got heavier as you hooked your fingers on the hem of his pants and tugged him toward you. Instantly you noticed the outline of his hard cock against your inner thigh.
Then, something switched. Just as you had reached out to touch his hardness, squeezing it lightly underneath your fingers, Jungkook groaned against your mouth and bit down on your lip. You had barely any time to react before he was pulling away from the kiss, gaze darkening.
“Such a tease,” he mumbled hoarsely, his breath hitting your mouth in soft waves. His hand was hovering over your heat, his middle finger pressing down on your sensitive nub, making you whimper. “You don’t know what you do to me.”
Jungkook was much quicker than your thoughts and, within a second, the motion of your panties being pushed aside made you fumble closer to him; your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders when he finally decided to touch you.
“Fuck,” he groaned next to your ear, making your mind go blank for a split second. The teasing motions of his digits brushing your entrance were enough to make you whimper, hips thrusting forward in a failed attempt to make him move further. “Look at this, you’re soaking my fingers. Wanna get fucked that bad?”
But he didn’t let you respond. The sudden intrusion of two fingers inside your pussy made your back arch, nails digging in the leather of his jacket as Jungkook opened you up. “I—” you tried to speak, but it was hard to think when he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. The sounds of your wetness were a filthy symphony filling the quiet atmosphere. “Jungkook, what—”
“God, that’s so tight,” he groaned, speaking through clenched teeth. His voice was enough to shut you up at the spot, a frail moan dripping from your lips. “Relax, baby, you’re too tense. Let me take care of you, alright?”
You nodded, eyes drifting shut as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. You hated to admit it, but Jungkook was already winning against your ex by a long shot: the way his digits brushed inside you, gradually moving apart to stretch you, got you searching — begging — for more. You were sure you could cum around his fingers and, when he curled them up and they dragged against your sweet spot, the idea became a lot more palpable.
“Jungkook, you’re taking too long, I’m gonna cum like this,” you complained, chest rising and falling under the waves of your upcoming orgasm. You could feel it building up in your stomach, ready to snap, and you didn’t want it to happen around his fingers. “I wanna feel you.”
Jungkook breathed out at your needy request, placing a kiss against your jaw. “I’m just getting you ready for my cock, baby,” he said. A loud moan dripped from you when he unceremoniously added a third finger, your legs trembling on either side of his body. “I don’t know if you can take it.”
You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, only half aware of the fact that your voice sounded more like a whimper than a serious comment. “I can.”
He smirked wickedly. You really were pushing his buttons. “We’ll see about that,” Jungkook responded.
Within a second, right as your orgasm was about to wash over you, he removed his fingers from your pussy. The frustrated moan you let out was quickly swollen by him, his mouth rogue against yours and the sweetness of his tongue intoxicating you — probably those stupid cupcakes, you thought.
“Turn around for me,” he asked.
You quickly did as he requested, putting your feet on the ground before turning your back to him, hands leaning on the table. Jungkook placed one hand on the curve of your spine, pushing you down until you had your chest against the surface, ass perked up and pussy in full display for him. There was a gush of cold air against your flesh when he pulled up the fabric of your dress and tossed it over your waist, exposing your lower body for him.
The boy hummed at the sight, one of his legs kicking your feet apart so he could position himself in the middle of your thighs. “You’re pretty all around,” Jungkook commented, one of his palms grazing your asscheek before grabbing it. His motion was harsh, needy; earning a whimper from you. “Knew you would be.”
Through the dense clouds of your desire, there was still some part of you that managed to make fun of that situation. “You spend your free time thinking about my ass?”
“Won’t answer until I have a lawyer present,” he joked.
You felt his fingers hooking around the fabric of your panties, pushing it further to the side so you had your cunt fully exposed for him to see. The drumming of your heartbeat almost drowned out the low groan he produced at the sight of your flushed heat.
“Princess, your pussy is dripping so much…” Jungkook trailed off, one of his fingers tracing a line between your lips. He felt the urge to eat you out, to lick you completely clean and make you cum on his tongue, but he decided that would have to wait for a different time. “Is this all for me?”
“Yeah, all for you,” you said, weak. There was a thundering exasperation building up inside you, motivated from your denied orgasm and from the way that Jungkook was taking his sweet time.
“Good girl,” he mumbled and your chest was filled with pride. “Can’t wait to fuck it.”
“Then don’t wait,” you practically begged. “Just rush.”
He removed his finger from your heat. “Shh… be patient,” Jungkook told you and you swore you could practically hear the smile in his voice. You could hear him shuffling behind you, the sound of his zipper opening echoing around that still room. “I’m gonna give you whatever you want.”
You whined at the abrupt feeling of his warm cock rubbing between your folds, its tip hitting your clit after every languid thrust. “Fuck,” you cried out, shaky. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that he was big, his length was so thick that you were starting to get second thoughts whether you could take it or not. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. “Just put it in, Jungkook.”
But Jungkook was having way more fun just teasing you. “Pussy’s so wet for me.” He breathed out, his hands tightening around your hips. You felt him throb between your folds, and the sensation got you searching for air. “You’re soaking my cock, baby. You want it that much?”
“Y-Yeah.”
Jungkook hummed, leaning in so he could place a kiss on your shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, princess,” he promised, his length still rubbing between your folds. He was so hard and heavy that your mind was spinning, your lungs drowning in expectation. “Gonna fuck you so well that you’re never going to forget it. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” your voice was a pathetic moan, and you hated your body for betraying you so easily. “Yes, please.”
After another pec on your shoulder, Jungkook leaned back. “Be loud for me, alright?” He asked. “Can you do that for me?”
You swallowed hard — what were the chances that someone would hear you? You had no idea. “Yeah, whatever you want, just fuck me.”
“Whatever I want? That’s a dangerous thing to say.” He moved around behind you, making you flinch when you felt his cock align with your dripping entrance. The anticipation was driving you insane. “Might have to see if you’re up for it another time.”
There was an answer somewhere in your mind — you could swear there was — but it was quickly forgotten the second that Jungkook pushed himself inside you. The drag of his cock was a delicious torture, streching you out and filling you up to the brim until you were shaking under his touch, both of you moaning at the sensation.
“Oh my god.” You breathed out, hands turning into fists on the table. Your cheek was pressed against the polished wood, hot breath creating small white clouds on the surface.
Jungkook released a shaky sigh when he felt you clenching around him, your body desperately trying to move closer to him. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his hands holding onto your hips for dear life. Gradually, he moved himself away from your pussy just so he could slam back inside, marveling on the way you trembled at the feeling, crying out his name in the prettiest of whimpers. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Squeezing my cock so well.”
Took you only an instant to realize that you were absolutely addicted to the feeling of his cock inside you, the heavenly push of his hardness in and out of you as he slowly started to set a pace. “Oh my god, I’m—” a pitiful hiccup interrupted you, turning your voice into a sharp cry. “That’s so good, Jungkook.”
Jungkook chuckled behind you, his thrusts starting to pick up speed. Your eyes closed in endless bliss, every part of your brain focused on the sensation of his fat length stretching you up. “Told you I’d be, not my fault you didn’t believe me,” he said, but you could tell that his confidence had started to wear itself thin — he, too, seemed to be much more focused on the way that your bodies met. “Do you touch yourself, princess?”
You almost didn’t know how to answer him, a deep heat rushing up to your cheeks. “W-What?”
“When you’re alone, baby,” he practically hissed. You were bouncing on the table then, your body jerking up and down as he fully pistoned his cock inside your heat. “Do you play with your little pussy?”
“Y-yes,” you stammered, embarrassed. “S-Sometimes.”
“Show me how you do it,” he requested in-between huffs, lust dripping from every syllable. Jungkook spoke to you like a siren, effortlessly inducting you to comply with everything he wanted. “Come on. Don’t be shy, I wanna see you play with yourself for me.”
You didn’t even know if what you were feeling was shyness, but there was a veil of hesitation that covered your actions. As your hands moved downwards, one of them clenching around the fabric of your dress and pulling it up while the other trailed over your mound, you felt strangely vulnerable, exposed. At the same time, you wanted to do what he asked you to, wanted him to wash you over with compliments until your mind was going blank.
So you closed your eyes and focused on the sensation of two of your fingers coating themselves in your wetness, then their pressure on your clit. You whined at the feeling, pleasure exploding in your veins as you started to rub yourself, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. There was no way you could ever reach that sensation again, the sweet motions of your fingers combining perfectly with the thrusts of his hard, fat cock inside you. You were doomed.
“That’s it… just like that, baby,” Jungkook whispered, obsessed with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him. You had gotten so tight that he thought he would see heaven at any second now. “Feels good?”
“Y-Yeah, so good...” you struggled to get out, “feels amazing, Jungkook.”
“So perfect for me,” his praise shot straight up to your core, making you mewl under him. God, the way that you were tightening around him was going to drive him insane. “You feel so fucking good, I can’t stop fucking you.”
Jungkook took one of his hands to your neck, using it to guide your body upwards until you had your back pressed against his chest; his hot lips assaulting your neck. The new position made it so much easier for his cock to drill inside you, reaching even deeper and hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. It wasn’t long before you were moaning out, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you.
“Just take a look at that, baby,” his voice broke you out of your hypnotized state. “Look at you. Such a good slut, just taking everything I’m giving you, touching yourself for my cock… fuck. Could watch you like this forever.”
You had to take a moment to understand what he was talking about, and then you saw it: the window. It stood silently across the room from you, half open, and the glass combined with the darkness of the night gave a perfect reflection of the two of you. You could see yourself, the mess you had become, as Jungkook pounded in and out of you and your fingers worked on your clit; the darkness of his hungry gaze as he followed the motions of your body against his.
Even if you cried out at the sight, your body freezed up a little at the thought of someone walking by and seeing that private spectacle. The possibility itself was minimal — the window gave way to the side of the land, where a big, thick fence separated it from the nearby houses; most of the ground covered by large trees and bushes — but it wasn’t zero. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the humiliation that would come from being seen like that.
He, of course, noticed your change of demeanor right away, and you could see in the faint reflection that he had smirked at that realization. “What is it? Are you worried someone is going to walk by?” Jungkook almost groaned against your ear. His cock continued to pump ferociously in and out of you, and you couldn’t even understand your own thoughts for a moment. “That someone is gonna see you get fucked like a good slut?”
“It’s not—” a moan cut your sentence short. Not like you knew where you were heading, anyways.
“No one is gonna see you like this, know why?” Jungkook was grunting, his fingers tightening around your throat. You cried out at the feeling, your cunt clenching around him in a way that got him fucking you even harder. “Cause this is all for me. Just for me.”
Then he was pushing you back on the table, your chest crashing against the wooden surface and his hands yanking you by the waist. Jungkook was fucking you so hard that your worries left you as soon as they arrived, your mind a turmoil of desires and broken exclamations that didn’t give space to anything else but him.
“You look fucking gorgeous like this, stuffed with cock,” he marveled at the sight. There was a known wave of pleasure hovering over you, ready to crash at any given moment, and you stopped rubbing yourself just so you could prolong its arrival. “Wanna see you cum for me, make a mess for me, baby.”
The words left you in a confusing, broken order, “Jungkook, I can’t… too much… can’t...”
“Shhh, you can,” he was slowly easing you into your orgasm, his cock drilling in and out of your pussy. Jungkook fucked like a machine, fast and precise, and you didn’t think you’d be able to forget that anytime soon. “You told me you could take it, so now you’re gonna take it. Don’t you wanna be good for me?”
“I- I want to… I’m so close,” you cried out, pressing your forehead against the table. You didn’t know how it hadn’t broken yet, with the way that Jungkook was fucking you so mercilessly hard. “I’m so, so close.”
“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he urged you on, his member throbbing inside you at the thought. Your legs were so weak that you knew you’d fall facedown on the floor if he wasn’t supporting your weight with his strong arms. “Be a good girl and cream my cock for me.”
And that was it. That was all that you needed to push yourself over the edge, submerging you in ecstasy and making you squeeze him so deliciously. “J-Jungkook!” You moaned out his name again and again, unsure of how loud you were being, but also not caring as much as you should. Jungkook realized he loved hearing you call his name more than anything else. “Fuck! Oh my god!”
“That’s it, baby,” he moaned back, his thrusts a sloppy, uncoordinated mess. He was hypnotized by the view of your cunt hugging him, your wetness dripping down your thighs as you rode out the last seconds of your orgasm. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect— gonna cum too.”
You gasped out at the sensitivity that was starting to spread, every movement shaky as you tried to push yourself against him. “Yes, please.” You looked over your shoulder, meeting his hooded gaze. Jungkook looked like a god, his dark hair sweaty and messy and his lip trapped between his teeth. That image would plague you forever. “Cum inside me, please.”
He groaned loudly, eyes closing for a second. “Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” he hissed, chest heaving with anticipation. You knew he was close, everything pointed to that, and all that you wanted was to see him reach his high, using your body like it was just a doll for him to fuck. “Didn’t know you’d want to be filled up with cum, princess.”
“I’m full of surprises.” You smiled — a pretty, fucked-out smile that got Jungkook grunting like a madman. “I want your cum inside me, Jungkook, please.”
“Gonna fuck you full of my cum, don’t worry— Shit.” The sounds he was making were heavily: those breathy, high-pitched moans that echoed all around you; broken by deep grunts that had your thighs shaking. Jungkook fucked himself in you like he was meant for it, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he finally found his orgasm. “Fuck! That’s it, fuck—”
Jungkook called out your name and mixed it with praises and curses when he came, spilling himself inside your pussy. You sighed at the feeling, taking in the blissful sensation of having his hot cum spilling out of you, dripping down your legs as he continued to thrust inside you, milking out his orgasm.
At last, he started to wince from sensitivity. His body collided against your back, his heavy breathing fanning your neck as he tried to collect himself. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, “you’re amazing.”
“You’re not so terrible yourself.” You could not help the smile that appeared on your lips, nor the way that you melted against the surface of the table, drowning in his heat.
Still, you couldn’t stay there for much longer: it was already a miracle that no one heard the chaos going on in that room, and you weren’t trying to push your luck for the night. Especially since you had a pile of homework (and possibly — now cold — takeout) waiting for you at home.
You raised your body, leaning against your elbows. “I have to leave,” you told him, taking one of your hands to lay on top of his tattooed one, trying to ease his grip from your waist. “Now if you could just…”
“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook hushed, unrelenting. He was much stronger than you, and your muscles were too weak for you to try and do much, so you eventually gave up. “Stop moving. Let me feel you around me for just a bit more.”
You frowned. “Why?”
“I like it,” he said simply. His breath was a faint caress against the skin of your neck, and you didn’t have much fight left in you. “We all have our tastes.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re so weird.”
“Don’t kinkshame.” Jungkook pouted, then pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “You just begged me to fuck you in a church, remember?”
“Yeah, I guess I don’t have much place to judge.” You laughed dryly, then looked over your shoulder. “Why is your cock still hard? How long is this gonna take?”
Jungkook groaned, clearly annoyed. “Shut up and enjoy the moment.”
~
The so-called moment lasted about two more minutes (which was kind of impressive, you thought) before Jungkook softened and slipped out of you. You hated to admit but you kind of liked the feeling of having him still inside you, completing you as his lips danced around your neck; fingers tenderly playing with your hair. You never thought Jungkook would be so gentle after fucking you like that, but you guessed that you weren’t the only one that was full of surprises.
Jungkook, apparently, also liked to admire his work. After he had slipped out of you, he made you sit back on the table just so he could stare at his own cum dripping out of you, a glimmer of satisfaction in his dark gaze. He had pushed his white release back inside you and smirked up at you, asking, ever so kindly, for you to go home like that, filled with his cum.
You, of course, promptly accepted it.
“By the way,” he called when you two had already stepped out of the church, enveloped by the coldness of the night. There was only one solitary light pole illuminating his features, making him look like one of the saints in the chapel — nothing but fake advertisement, in your opinion. “Wanna know how much I got in that immunology test?”
“How much?” You asked.
“Eighty two.” Jungkook smiled brightly then, and you found yourself joining him. “Never saw a grade so high in my life. And that counts all the times I’ve cheated too.”
“Seems like the tutoring sessions are paying off.” You crossed your arms before your chest, the hem of your dress swirling around your knees. The night was weirdly peaceful after everything that had taken place.
“They are.” He nodded. “I’m looking forward to the next one. Helps that my tutor is kind of a hottie too.”
You scoffed. “So I’ve heard.”
“And, by the way?”
“Yeah?”
“You would look better without it.” He pointed at your dress, a sly smile already sprouting on his lips. “Hope to see it next time.”
“Good night, Jungkook.” You rolled your eyes, already turning around — yeah, like there would ever be a next time.
~
BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION
TAGLIST:
@taehyungieskith @fan-ati--c @btstrasht @crazy4myself @sashimi-mochi @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky
#bts smut#jungkook smut#jungkook#bts#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jeon jungkook#bad boy au#smut#reader insert#bts x you#bts x reader#bad boy jungkook#bts au#jungkook au#series#pwp#fluff
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I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)
So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭
MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits
Lucifer
It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty…
Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…
MC: “Good morning, love.”
Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…
They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...
MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression* “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”
The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.
MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”
Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.
MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”
Mammon
Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!
He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-
MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”
First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….
Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.
MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”
Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.
Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”
MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”
Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.
Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”
MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”
Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.
Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”
MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”
Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”
Leviathan
Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…
When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…
When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???
When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!
Levi: ……….
MC: ………….
MC: …. “I can explain.”
Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”
MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”
Levi: “You think??”
Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too…
MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”
Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”
MC: “Okay...?”
MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”
Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...
Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*
Levi: “Uh… just one more?”
Satan
When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit??
When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat…
I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?
After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!
Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”
When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...
When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…
They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.
MC: … Page 47.
They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.
Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏
Asmodeus
Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...
Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!
Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)
Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.
What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!
Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”
MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”
They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.
MC: “… Or just at me?”
Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.
Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭
MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”
Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘
And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...
Beelzebub
Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...
What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup….
Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.
MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”
Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.
The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…)
MC: “Congratulations!!!”
They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.
Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”
MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”
The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.
MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”
As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??
Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”
MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”
MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*
MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”
They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…
Let’s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏
Belphegor
Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...
But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.
MC: “Beeelllppphie….”
The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.
Belphie: “What now...?”
MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”
What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!
Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”
MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”
They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.
Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”
His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...
While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.
MC: *grins* “Mine now!”
They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.
Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏
The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.
MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”
Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”
MC: “Belphie!!!” 😫
They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!
#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall-we-date-obey-me#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#obey me headcanons#obey me requests
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grammy night
A/n: like most of you, watching harry perform WS did something to me. i rushed to my computer to write this IMMEDIATELY... not proofread but i hope u all enjoy nonetheless! Thanks @nationalharryleague for looking this over and hyping me up.
summary: y/n wants to show her grammy winning boyfriend just how proud she is of him💕
warnings: smut, mentions of the pandemic!
word count: ~3k
my ko-fi! thank you :)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
You decided that “Harry Styles, Grammy-nominated artist!” had a lovely ring to it.
Harry knew how proud you were of him; you had been making it known to him in the days leading up to his big night. You fretted over him more than you usually did, showered him in an obnoxious amount of compliments, and were the most intimate you’d ever been with him–– but who was he to complain?
Obviously, he knew you could care less whether he won or lost, and quite frankly, he didn’t care either. Just being able to perform at the Grammy’s, much less open it, was the opportunity of a lifetime. The fact that he was hitting such a big professional milestone with you by his side just made it that much better. You were both buzzing.
It had been months since Harry had performed. You knew how much he missed being in front of a live audience and hearing people scream his name, conceited as he was. He had been spending so much time rehearsing the one song he was performing, wanting it to be absolutely perfect. Your boyfriend was a perfectionist, after all! If he was going to do something, he either did it one hundred and ten percent, or he didn’t do it at all.
Although you were used to your boyfriend’s pre-performance jitters, it still wasn’t an easy sight to see. He would pace so much that beads of sweat would collect in his hairline; he’d shake, tremble, and have to be reminded to breathe. You’d think after ten years of doing this he would be a pro, but he was only human, after all.
“Been so long since I performed in front of people,” Harry muttered to you, examining his reflection in his make-shift dressing room. “‘M nervous.”
“Don’t be nervous,” you reply, coming up behind him to rub his shoulders. He shoots you a look in the mirror. “I know it’s easier said than done but you have nothing to worry about. It’s “Watermelon Sugar” honey–– you’ve got nothing to worry about. You’ve performed this one dozens of times.”
“Things are jus’ so different now,” his voice drops an octave. “What if people are tired of the song?”
“I don’t think people are tired of the song.”
“It played on the radio a lot. Came out in 2019––”
“...And you’ve been busy with other things. No one’s gonna be upset that you haven’t released new music in the middle of a pandemic H, I promise you.”
Harry’s gaze meets yours again in the mirror briefly before he tilts his head back, silently asking for a kiss. You plant one on his lips before grabbing a tissue from a small table beside him, dabbing at his hairline.
“Stop sweating everything off, Harry,” you playfully scold your boyfriend. “Make-up artist has already been by to touch you up three times already, she’s probably running out of product.”
Your boyfriend lightly chuckles at this, causing you to smile. “I’ll just tell my body to cut it out. How’s tha’ sound?”
“Sounds good,” you reply, leaning down to kiss his nose. “You alright?”
You notice Harry deeply inhale. “I think so. How do I look?”
“Like a Grammy-nominated, soon-to-be Grammy-winning, artist.”
Harry’s skin flushes. “Stop it…” The sound of three short knocks on the door of his dressing room causes panic to flood his features.
“Hey, look at me,” you gently grab your boyfriend’s chin, turning his gaze up towards yours. “It’s my job to believe in you when you don’t believe in yourself. If you get nervous just know I’ll be sitting as close to the stage as they’ll let me.”
“Promise?”
“Promise. Now, go make me proud.”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
“Breathe me in, breathe me out…”
If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought Harry’s nerves in his dressing room were all theatrics. He was so in his element on stage, you were one hundred percent sure no one knew he was so nervous twenty minutes prior that he was turning green. He kept looking out into the small crowd, searching for you, and flashing you a dimpled grin once he did.
You were enjoying watching him prance around the stage while trying to keep up with the band on stage, looking a bit too proud of himself when he was able to stay on the beat while rhythmically snapping his hips along to the song. As the song came to an end and the dimmed lights started coming back on, you were led back to Harry’s dressing room by one of his guards as you heard the next performer being introduced.
“How did I do?” Harry asks loudly, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.
His voice causes you to jump. “You scared the shit out of me! How’d you get off stage so quickly?”
Harry grabs your arm and pulls you off the couch, wrapping you in a tight, sweaty hug. “Don’t know. I basically ran to ya.”
“You did incredibly,” you tell him, lips ghosting over his. “Just like I knew you would. I don’t wanna say you were nervous for nothing, but you kinda were.”
“Don’t wanna hear your teasin’.”
“Did you see how everyone was looking at you?”
“I only saw how you were lookin’ at me. I was only lookin’ at you.”
Your body heats up at Harry’s admission, causing you to look away. “You’re so cheesy, H.”
“I think I would’ve been about fifty times more nervous if you weren’t here with me,” he presses his nose against yours. “Thank you for bein’ here, Y/N. You make this whole thing so much more doable.” Harry places one… two… three wet kisses to your cheek before pulling away, walking back over to close the door he left open during his excitement to re-join you.
“Changing?”
“Yeah,” Harry turns to look at you as he pulls off his jacket. The sight of his bare chest causes you to thickly swallow. “‘M gonna put what I was wearin’ on the red carpet back on. We’re gonna move outside.”
You simply hum in response to what Harry said, sitting back on the couch to scroll through your phone as you wait for him to finish changing. Everyone was congratulating Harry on his performance and wishing him luck on his nominations. You read all the good luck texts for him that were sent to you out loud, watching as his smile grows bigger and bigger from all the love he was being showered in.
After helping Harry powder his T-zone you let him lead you out of the small room and out into an area with spaced-out circular tables, most of them with just two or three seats at them. The Grammy’s in the middle of a pandemic was unlike anything you had ever seen before, and you were pleasantly surprised at how smoothly things were running. Jeff is already sat at the table when you and Harry join him and you can visibly see him let out the breath he was holding.
“Your boyfriend ran off stage so quickly I thought I was gonna have to set up a search party to find him,” Jeff tells you, a slight hint of annoyance present in his voice. He then turns to Harry and says, “Fix your mask, please.”
“It is fixed,” Harry grumbles but adjusts it nonetheless, causing you to giggle.
Even though it was obvious your boyfriend was enjoying himself, you could still tell he was extremely nervous the closer it became to announcing the winner of the category he was nominated in. His grip on your thigh kept growing tighter and tighter and although you didn’t hate it, you worried he might cut off your circulation soon if he didn’t let go of you soon.
“H, take a deep breath,” you lean over to whisper in his ear. “You’re gonna make my thigh fall off.”
“Sorry, love,” if you could see his mouth under his mask, you’d see him biting his plump lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous in my fuckin’ life.”
“Never?”
“Have I?”
“I dunno. I’m asking you.”
You see Harry’s eyes crinkle. “Maybe when I asked you out for the first time.”
“You are seriously so cheesy.”
Harry doesn’t respond, just takes your hand in his and directs his attention back to the stage. His palm is sweaty in yours but you don’t release his grip on your hand, wanting to offer him as much comfort as you possibly could.
When they start naming the nominees for Best Pop Solo Performance, you literally have to remind Harry to control his breathing. Although he won’t be upset if he doesn’t win, you know it would still mean quite a bit to him if he did.
“And the winner for Best Pop Solo Performance is… Harry Styles!”
Your mouth falls open in shock as you turn to fully face your boyfriend who was looking down at your intertwined hands, eyes wide in surprise. He genuinely wasn’t expecting to win and that made this victory that much sweeter.
“Harry!” You yell to be heard above the cheers and applause of his colleagues in the crowd. Jeff stands and grabs Harry’s hand, pulling him out of his seat and into a tight hug. You stand up and clap loudly in admiration for your boyfriend, willing the tears not to fall from your eyes. He removes himself from Jeff and pulls you into him, your head pressed against his chest.
“I won a fuckin’ Grammy!” Harry shouts.
“I know!” You shout back, probably more excited than he was. “Get up there!”
Your boyfriend quickly removes his mask and hands it to you before hurrying to the makeshift stage, hugging the presenter before touching his Grammy in awe. He picks it up and then slowly sets it back down, shaking his head in disbelief.
“To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much…”
You can’t stop the few tears that spill over your waterline–– you were so unbelievably proud of him. You’re not even paying attention to his acceptance speech as you’re too preoccupied with looking at everyone staring at your boyfriend in admiration.
“Lastly, I want to thank my girlfriend who’s sitting right there next to my manager, Jeffrey. She’s my number one fan, always believes in me when I don’t believe in myself,” he looks down at his shoes bashfully. “Wouldn’t be half the man I am today if it weren’t for her. This is our Grammy, love.”
You blow kisses to your boyfriend, ignoring the feeling of everyone’s eyes on you. As far as you were concerned, you and Harry were the only two people around at that moment. Your heart couldn’t have been any more full.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
To absolutely no one's surprise, you and Harry couldn’t keep your hands off each other for the remainder of the night. You were relieved there were no after parties being held that Harry would be expected to attend due to the pandemic because you could not get him alone fast enough.
“Slow down, Y/N,” Harry sets his Grammy on the foyer table as he kicks off his shoes. “Just us, innit? We’ve got all night, haven’t we?”
“I’m just so proud,” you tell him breathlessly, sucking on the underside of his jaw. “Let me show you.”
“You have been showin’ me. A lot, actually,” Harry leans his head back and closes his eyes in pleasure as you lick tantalizingly slow against his veiny neck. “Guess one more time wouldn’t hurt, though.”
“Do you want me to blow you or not?”
“Oh, so that’s what’s gonna happen here?”
“If you’re gonna be annoying, then no.”
“Kiiiding,” Harry rolls his eyes, pressing a gentle kiss to your nose. “C’mon, let me get you upstairs.”
”You’re the one that won a Grammy, not me,” you remind him. “Let me make you feel good.”
Harry lets out a quiet hum, guiding you towards the couch. “Exactly–– I’m the winner. Doesn’t that mean I should get what I want tonight?” He falls backward onto the couch, pulling you atop his lap. His hand roams down the front of your dress and he squeezes your breasts roughly, clearly delighted that you decided to forgo a bra tonight.
“I suppose,” you answer, biting back a moan.
“You suppose? Not in the mood for it tonight?” He starts to retract his hand but you grab his wrist, stopping him.
“I am!” You don’t even try to hide how desperate you are for your boyfriend.
“Gonna let me taste you, hmm?” As Harry asks his question he slowly slides off the couch and onto his knees in front of you, bunching your dress up around your hips. He leans in close to your already dripping center and inhales deeply, a blissed-out look on his face. “Smell fuckin’ incredible. I gotta taste ya.”
You spread your legs wider without even thinking about it, almost as if it’s on instinct. Harry easily moves your underwear to the side and immediately connects his lips with your clit, not giving you time to adjust to the sensation before he’s just going at it.
“Oh, Harry…”
“Rings on or off?” His voice is muffled due to your thighs being clamped around his head, but you can still understand what he’s saying.
“On!”
Harry chuckles against your cunt before sliding his index finger in with ease, loving the way you immediately clenched around the digit. “Y’like that, lovie? Wanna take another one?”
“Please.” Your boyfriend already has you breathless despite the fact that he was just getting started.
Harry slips his middle finger into you along with his index finger and starts curling it up in the way he knew you liked, trying his hardest to stimulate your g-spot. He looks extremely focused; leave it to Harry to make a night that was supposed to be all about him, not.
“S’fuckin’ tight,” he says, more so to himself. “You’d think with all the shags we’ve been ‘avin lately you’d be used to my fingers by now.”
You let out a loud groan at your boyfriend’s dirty talk. He knew that it was one of your biggest kinks so he usually overdid it just a tad bit. It’s not like you were complaining, though.
“Guess that means you’re not fuckin’ me hard enough, huh?”
Harry stops his movements and looks up at you through slightly hooded eyes, an amused (but not really) look on his face. “Not fuckin’ you hard enough? Well, why didn’t you just say so?”
You can tell by the tone of Harry’s voice that he has it out for you now, but there’s no use in recanting your statement. He was about to make sweet, primal, love to you and god were you ready. Harry goes back to mercilessly fucking into you with his thick fingers, speeding up or slowing down his pace based on how you clench around him.
”Fuck, H.”
“Feels nice?” He goes from moving his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion to a scissoring motion which feels just as good if not better.
“Yeah, really nice,” your fingers are tangled in Harry’s hair and you know he’ll give you hell later for getting it all knotted. “I’m close.”
“Already? Haven’t even properly fucked you yet,” Harry removes his fingers from you aching cunt agonizingly slow, wiping them on his expensive Gucci trousers. “Guess I’ll jus’ have to fix that, yeah?”
“I guess so.”
“You’ve got a mouth on you tonight, pet. Is that really any way to treat your Grammy-winning boyfriend-”
“Harry, come off it!” You exclaim, letting out a loud laugh as you watch him stand up and unbutton his pants. “You’re insufferable, I swear.”
Harry shoots you one of his blindingly bright smiles, wiggling his eyebrows as his pants pool around his feet. “Hey, ‘m just statin’ facts.”
He collapses onto the couch and pats his lap, giving his leaking cock two quick tugs. “Ride me.”
“Just because you won a Grammy doesn’t mean you don’t have to ask nicely anymore.”
“Y/N, my beautiful, dazzling, elegant girlfriend, will you please do me the honors of riding––”
“Why do you make everything so weird?” You groan as Harry laughs and pulls you into his lap with ease, wincing when your thigh brushes against his cock. Wordlessly, he places his hands on your hips and helps you sink down onto him, taking his lip in between his teeth to keep from yelling out.
”Fuck me…”
“I’m about to,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder as you adjust to his size. His hands roam the expanse of your back as he waits for you to get used to the feeling on him, wanting to feel every part of your body all at once. Without warning, you begin sluggishly rolling your hips. You were in no rush anymore; you had him inside of you, and that was all you wanted from the start.
“S’that all you got in ya?” His tone is cheeky, almost mocking. “I think you can give me more than tha’.”
“I dunno if I can.”
“Why’s that?” Harry bucks his hips upward slightly causing you to let out a loud gasp.
“I just want you to fuck me. I don’t wanna do any work.”
At this, Harry quickly flips you over so your sweaty body is now below his. You moan at the sensation the new angle immediately brought you. “Want me on top like this? This is how you wanna have me, angel?”
You nod.
“Answer me.”
“Yes, Harry,” your eyes squeeze shut as Harry begins quickly thrusting into you. “God, yes. That feels amazing.”
“Yeah? Do you like it when I fuck you like this?” Harry reaches his hand down to thumb at you clit and raises an eyebrow while awaiting your answer.
“God,” you grab onto your breasts to prevent them from bouncing around as Harry’s thrusting into you but he rips your hand away.
“Wanna see ‘em.”
“Right there,” you moan, no longer trying to bite back your sounds of pleasure. Between Harry eating you out, fingering you, and now fucking you harder than he has in ages, you were a few sloppy thrusts away from coming all over his cock. “I’m gonna cum–”
“...Already?”
You know he’s teasing but you still reach between your sweaty bodies to swat at his bare chest. “Don’t tease!”
“‘M messin’ with ya, puppy,” Harry pushes his curls out of his eyes. “I’m almost there- you first. Cum for me, Y/N.”
Harry doesn’t have to tell you twice. You spasm around his cock as soon as he tells you to, lifting your hips up to meet him as you could tell he was growing tired. Harry pulls out moments later, muttering a quick, “Where do you want it?” before finishing on your chest.
The silence that fills the room is comforting but of course, it’s cut short by your pest of a boyfriend.
“If that's what I got just for winning one Grammy, what would I get if I won the others?”
#harry styles smut#harry styles#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles imagine#harry styles blurb#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic
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Hizashi and Aizawa kidnapping a young teenage girl, and her bonding and quickly finding comfort with Hizashi, leaving Aizawa to awkwardly attempt at being super soft and all the more gentle to his sensitive little girl, his heart panging with pain every time she flinches or cowers away from him. “You don’t need to be scared of me, kitten.. please”
your little acts of favoritism weren’t necessarily intentional, you hated both of them. they were your brothers teachers, and whoop dee doo, they kidnapped you. but... you liked hizashi more.
it was just something about him that made you believe he was some form of comfort item, probably because he wasnt brooding, and didnt have a mean face, and he was the first human yud ever seen in this place, that all combined into one and he became your rock, your shoulder to cry on. he was just... so nice, although his quirk was loud, somehow he managed to speak softly with you. it was such a bright contrast to at home where two firey blondes always scream at each other, and your father tries to calm it down.
on your first night ever here, you had tried to jump out the window, and were captured by the thick scarves you once admired, hed lectured you, yelled at yiuu even, all you could see were those red eyes of his, and hear his voice. and he scared you, he scared you so much. i guess it justtranslates to now, first impressions are everything, and to you, he looked like a big scary man who would yell at you.
eventually, you stopped caring about how you hated him, or how you wanted to leave, as you clearly never were. so, instead of glaring at them, or crying, you accepted the fact that he was taking care of you. hizashi, hizashi was taking care of you... aizawa though? no way in hell, he was just so... you'd never seen him with a smile, he never tried to talk to you, he just kinda watched you, and it freaked you out, at some point you started believing he was trying to kill you, don't even ask how you came up with that conclusion.
you just couldn't manage to warm up to hi as you'd done so quickly with hizashi, and it showed. you were always tense when alone with him, like he was going to jump out at you any second and stab you, you didnt talk to him , sometimes you felt so anxious around him that you would outright start crying, shaking in some form of fear, or hide yourself under a blanket. although hizashi was proud that you loved him so much, he knew that this was hurting his husband, that his own little girl was scared of him.
so he would always try to coax you into doing things with him, saying things like "can your papa come and help" or "how about we have papa do this with you while I make lunch?", just trying to get him included so you would feel just as comfortable around him as you were with his own self. Sometimes he just left the room to let you have alone time with him. He’d even lectured his husband about how he always looked angry, and that he has to smile form time to time, and not the creepy “I’m gonna kill a villain” smile.
And so Aizawa started trying, not trying to be like hizashi, even that was too much for him, but trying to be nicer, he was a gentle person when he wanted to be, so this came with ease for him, he would tuck you in at night, read you stories, hold you if you cried, feed you, help you bathe (which you usually liked hizashi to do, and in general, inserted himself as a gentle roger in your life. You would expect taht this would work, that because he was so nice to you, because he was so sweet like hizashi, you would accept him as your father.
But nope! Again, first impressions are everything to you, and now, he was written off as the villain of you story, now, you jsut ran off to papa whenever he was around, and didn’t even give him the chance to hang around you, it just made it worse honestly, because now, not only did he look scary, but he also looked fake, which is never good. Every time he would try to if you, you would clutch onto hizashi for dear life, acting like his hand would do nothing but burn you.
Tears would cloud your vision, and he would pulle back, not wanting to cause you any more pain, and jsut stare in. Pure jealousy at his husband, who cooed and gave you a hug.and guess what? You hugged him back, and hid yourself in his chest, willingly, without a fight, without a tear, instead with a smile, most of the times mic wouldn’t interfere, wbatigg ns this to everyone a safe space for you, a place where you should naturally do things, but sometimes, he would give you little bushes int he right direction. Like disappearing completely for my he house so you’ll be forced to talk to Aizawa.
This is one of those times.
Yo been wandering the house for about ten minutes now, waking up form a nap, to find mic absent from his usual place in the rocking chair at your bedside. It was a little after lunchtime, and they’d only given you a small cup of fruit for breakfast (intentional, from mic), you were fairly hungry, and usually he was there to give you food, but you had no idea where he was, you had heard the… other one on the phone in their shared office, but you did not want to talk to him right now.
Aizawa could tell you were awake by the fact that all of the cats were meowing like crazy, and little pattering footsteps had followed his hearing around, mic had left abruptly, probably some little plan of mischief again, he was hizashi after all. He was just waiting for you to either 1: go back to bed, or 2: come to him for help. Mic had specifically told him to follow these rules for after nap time, so he did. And grew progressively more worried as over twenty minutes, trying to read through his students grading work, too distracted by the urge to go find you to accomplish anything.
His worries dissipated though when he saw your little head poking through the door, cat in hand, confused and tired looking, small tears beginning to prick th corners of your eyes, little sniffling sounds left you. His wha specked up form the desk, you’d given up walking around the whole house, your restarting had slowly pent up, you couldn’t manage to find him, and you were so hungry.
“Oh- hey honey, I didn’t know you were up. Do you need something?” He questioned, smiling intently at you, you just inched back into the door frame, breathing heavier by the moment, your hands shook and your head felt like it was going to explode at any point. Youbcontenoajted runnign back to your room and waiting till mic came out where you could hear him, but your stomach grumbled, reminding you how hungry you really are.
“I’m- im looking for daddy. Where is he.” You spoke, a very hushed tone overtook your words, making them almost inaudible for him. His face sunk slowly, he tougher you were actually gonna come for him, but the he remembered taht patience is key, and that he shouldn’t get mad, because it is t your fault taht you’re just a little sensitive, too fragile to handle more than one attachment, he gets it. He jsut at least wanted you to look at him, instead did your little feet, I’m Ayer if you could meet his eyes the. You would see how much he loves you.
“Oh, he left a. Little while ago. Is there something you need from him? Your papa can give him a call if you want, you could even talk to him!” He exclaimed excitedly, plastering that happy smile across his face to seem more inviting, liek mic had told him to do. He stood out of his chair, rounding up the papers and putting them in his file folders.you tried to sink back furthers, almost disappearing behind the doorway, you shook your head aggressively, almost running off, then yet again, your stomach made another noise, and forced you to stay.
“I- no. I’m- im hungry-“ you spluttered, not caring if it was embarrassing that you were stuttering so much, you just wanted food. And calling mic would just get you a lecture on how you could’ve just asked your papa, the same thing would happen whenever you went to uncnecesary lengths to avoid the man, your daddy would make sure you knew that it made him feel bad, while you’d at there bored. Not caring, at all.
“Oh- well you should’ve told me sooner kitten, if I’d known I would be up already. Cmon, let’s go to the kitchen, your daddy made you some food earlier” he spoke, rising from his chair slowly, you cowered slightly as he walked over, clutching the little kitten right to you for comfort, he mewed and snuggled closer, completely asleep. The man sighed when he saw you backing away from his grasp, he knew you were still scared. But he was just so impatient… he was tired of waiting, he wanted to hold you, even if it was jsut foena few minutes. He needed it feel you there with him.
Is he acted quickly, moving in a matter of seconds, he swooped his arm under your leg, and hooked his other around your torso, pulling you straight up into his grasp. Youu huh froze, his hands felt cold as ice on your skin, like they were burning you, immediately after he started walking, it snapped you out of it and you threw a fit. You dig your fingernails into his skin, and kicked and flailed in a panic, still trying to keep the little kitten in your lap safe. A full blown panic washed over you, clogging all your senses.
The dam holding back tears form your eyes crashed, and immediately you were sobbing, biting at his shoulder to let you go, he tried to rub your back to calm you down a bit, but just made it worse, as his hands felt like living anxiety creeping up and down your spine. He didn’t know what to do, let you ride it out, andkk no possibly have you get sick because of how much your crying in an empty stomach? Or let you down and go straight back to square one.
Your veined felt like pure ice had flooded in them, and it felt liek someone was repeatedly jabbing you in the head with tiny needes, fear was jsut so prominent in your sense, it overcame you, and made you whimper and scream.
“Whoah, breath for me alright? I just want to hold you. I’m not going to hurt you okay? I would never hurt you. Kitten… you don’t have to be scared of me” he spoke, trying to keep a proper computers, he wanted to cry with you, he wasn’t a very soft or emotional man but honestly, he was so upset with himself already, this was jsut pushing him for the edge. You cried, and cried, at some point you weren’t even crying and screaming at him, more with him. He held you close, you’d stopped the struggle almost five minutes ago, letting him hold you. It was odd. It almost felt… nice.
“I-I’m sorry. I’m being stupid again” You alien through your remaining little hiccups, shove my your face into his shirt, smelling the woody scent he carried around with him. He cooed, letting you hide yourself from him, savouring this soft moment was of top priorirty in his head… you jsut looked so sweet, so different from those harsh cries that would sound usually whenever he came around.
Who would think, shouts aizawas hand couldn’t feel nice? The same ones that had just been burning you, the ones that made you scream, felt like a breeze on a spring day, he actually felt warm, he felt like happiness, like contentment.
“No hon, it’s not stupid. Your scared. I know that, we all get scared and it’s not a bad thing, I love you, I really, really love you kitten. Just know that” he continued on with his little speech, leaving down to kiss you in the forehead, Jsut to be suprised when you didn’t flinfh, you were too tired to be scared; and too hungry, plus, he was really warm, the cat had pretty much snuggled up to him already, who says you shouldn’t.
“I- um- I love you… to?” You spoke, more of a question than anything, you’d spent so long Harding him that you didn’t know if you even could love him, it didn’t even feel possible, then again, you litterally cling to hizashi like a koala, and your mental state has relaly said “swoopity swoop” and scattered itself everywhere. Maybe having two comfort items was actually better than one… huh.
“Well, let’s go eat then. All taht crying probably made you tired, I’ll let you watch a movie in my office, you can watch pinto again, I know you love taht one. Cmon, let’s go” he spoke, and started walking again, you cuddled closer to him as he did, smiling slightly at the warmth. Hizashi was very extravagant, exiting, and hyper, this man felt very cool, calm, it was such a dark contrast, but it worked so well. You jsut… you Jsut liked it.
Well… now we’ll just have to wait and see who’s the favorite
———————————————————————————————————
Thank you for requesting! It was super fun to write and had me feeling super happy when I finished :)
I’m thinking about doing yandere todoroki family asks, because I’m litterally in love with @i-cant-sing one… so, requests are open for those if you want to put them in (please do I’m begging)
Anywho, have the most wonderful to days today! Goodbye!
#platonic obsession#platonic yandere#soft yandere#yandere my hero academia#yandere platonic#yandere#yandere poly#yandere erasermic#yandere Aizawa#yandere hizashi#yandere hizashi yamada#yandere shouta aizawa#yandere present mic#yandere eraserhead#yandere x reader
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Code Star
Summary: a code word you and Bucky share is used; but it’s not in a good way.
Warning: panic attack, ripping out hair, addiction(little bit)
Words: 2030
Masterlist!
"Agent. Agent. Copy agent?" Friday spoke through the speakers in your room, it was louder than normal and also in the middle of the night which was the reason you woke up with a gasp.
"C-copy," you spat out, you typically sleep with your mouth open, so it gets dry when you first wake.
"Mr. Barns is calling you, he says it's 'code star'." Your stomach dropped, from all the adrenaline from waking up with a scare and the code, you sprinted down the hall way.
-
It was late and you were in the kitchen, you were trying to separate from your sleeping pills because during your last mission you couldn't sleep because you forgot them, you were addicted to them. So you needed to take a step back, learn to fall asleep on your own.
After asking around there was a tea Wanda recommended, it was lavender tea and she said it's the best with honey. You were currently steeping your bag and had honey beside you.
You took the soggy bag out and turned to the compost bin, after dropping it in and turned around you almost slipped because Bucky was right there.
Standing frozen. Dead face. Staring at you.
"Jesus fucking Christ!" You yelled, not caring if it woke someone up, "what's wrong with you?" You realized you clutched at your heart through your sweater.
He was on the other side of the island, but he seemed to be leaning over a bit, he looked down at your steaming mug and then back at you.
"I- I was going to say hi and then I liked the smell of your tea and then when you turned I looked up at you, I-I didn't mean to freak you out, that must have been really scary, sorry." He looked down into the cup again. "What is it?" He finally asked.
You let your guard down a bit, "lavender," you never looked away from him, "and honey." That was the most he'd ever said to you since he showed up two months ago, he stayed in his room the first month.
"Nice," he nodded, his metal arm coming up and rubbing the back of his neck.
"There's extra water, I can make you one." You knew he was going to ask for your cup, but you really need to hit the sack.
His face lit up in the dark, "perfect!" He half smiled.
You poured the other cup and steeped the another bag, then added honey as well. You both stayed where you were on either side of the island.
"Why are you up?" He asked while blowing on the tea, his voice was below normal level.
"Just can't sleep," you sigh and look over to the common room, no one was there but you really didn't want to meet his eyes.
"I get that," he spoke awkwardly and looked over as well, thinking you were studying something.
"I'm-...I'm trying to get if sleeping pills my shit therapist prescribed for me," you looked back at him, his eye brows raised and his head tilted forty-five degrees.
"Sleeping pills?"
"Insomnia."
"Oh..." he spoke to himself and looked down again, his thumb rubbing the smooth ceramic handle of the blue mug that wasn't his. "I get nightmares." He stated blankly, but he didn't look up at his statement.
"Is it..." you tried to find the right words to not trigger him, "before the war, like America...or later on…in life...?" You danced around the question, Steve had told you mentioning certain things can get Bucky really freaked out.
"My mind," he laughed sarcastically, "it likes to mix the two," he pulled one side of his mouth tight.
"Double-whammy," you whispered, then froze at the sound of a giggle, Bucky chuckled. "What?"
"No-I-I just...I get that reference," he seemed proud, his face seemed to fall quickly though, circling back, "my arm is weird, it's like my human arm but the star," he points to the red, "is like sewn in, I don't know what it means but..." he trialed off.
"Well, if you need help, just call a code star, I'll come to your room and bring you some tea, how about that?" You smile.
"What? Like a friend?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"Okay," he smiled and nodded, "alright," his fingers drummed on the counter, "I'm gonna take this back to my room, but I'll remember that." He nodded and left, but caught himself at the corner to the rooms, "hey, agent," he spoke normal, you looked, "if you're gonna be my friend, don't ask 'what's wrong with me?', because trust me...I’ll talk you to your grave." He smirked.
“Noted, Sargent.” You’ve never seen him joke with you before, it felt comforting.
-
'Code star' had never been used for its newer purpose before, as the friendship and relationship grew 'code star' became 'code lavender', it happened after Bucky called 'code star' once while he was having a panic attack, you took so long to make the tea he was passed out by the time you showed up.
'Code lavender': make a tea, meet in the kitchen.
'Code star': panic attack, drop everything a come.
You sprinted down the hallway to the very last room, you could hear laboured breathing as you got closer. Typically you'd knock softly and come in quietly, not this time.
You whipped open the door to see Bucky staring slightly down on the edge of his bed, he was rocking back and forth as his fingers ripped and pulled on his long hair. His pupils blew wide and his lips curled causing his teeth to flash, he didn't even look up at you.
A loud bang from your knees hitting the hardwood didn't phase him either, you tired to duck down to meet his line of eye sight but you couldn't get down enough.
"Bucky, look at me!" You pulled his hands out of his hair, as you made him drop them to his side you found a pile of hair outside his thighs, "oh god," you whispered, your hand unlacing with his to pick up the locks, the free hand of his went straight back to tugging. "Don't do that, don't do that." You hushed and took it out again, a tuff came with it. "Bucky, look at me," you said calmer now, you needed to be the example. "Bucky, nod if you can hear me."
He didn't nod, his eyes stayed locked on your chest. They didn't move there, he was already looking there, it was like he was looking through you.
You kept his hands clumped in your right hand and your left hand began to trace around his face, starting at his cheeks that were dry, little circles led to cross the bridge the nose a couple times. You also started humming, a song you heard Bucky and Steve sing once while drunk and having fun.
His eye brows seemed to raise for a second at the tune, but he quickly fell back into his short shallow breathes. You kept going, your finger gently tracing his cleft chin, it was always something you pinched when joking around with him.
"Wake up, Bucky," you whispered after finishing the song, you started the tune again. His breathing seemed to slow a little and his almost black eyes moved around a bit, "there you go," you cupped his cheek, now just shifting your thumb back and forth. You didn't know if he'd start to pull his hair out again so you kept both the metal and flesh hand covered with your left.
His breathing went to normal, his rib cage expanding wide as he took voluntary breathes. His eyes were shut tight but you felt him lean into your hand that was still holding his cheek.
"Are you with me?" You asked softly, he leaned into your hand again, his hand slowly made it up to his face and he placed his hand over yours, gently guiding it down to his lips; his kisses to your palm were long and filled with their own language.
"I'm here," his voice cut out and became a breath, but you heard him. His eyes looked up before his head moved, he locked eyes with you and something changed.
It was like he was seeing you for the first time, eyes a little wide and confused; but knowing at the same time. They became misty the more he looked, he was never one to cry so he dropped his head to cover the tears.
"It's okay," you hushed, he dropped your hand and leaned forward, basically throwing his entire body weight onto you. You fell back to the floor and he cried in your chest, you saw some of his hair fall with him. "Let it out," your arms wrapped around him and began to rub all along his back, huge, gentle, soothing rubs.
"I-I killed you all," his voice sounded like a dog panting from his short breathes that came when he talked, "I- couldn't s-stop," his 's' slithered like snakes as he tries get sufficient air and talk.
"We're all here, just a dream." It was the same mantra, "we're all here, you're safe, it was a nightmare, you're out of it now. There you go, big breathes, you're doing great, you're a pro at this, keep breathing." You let the broken record play, he seemed to get smaller at every praise.
He sat up and leaned against the bed, Bucky pulled his sleeve around his fist to hold it tight. When he wiped his face it was aggressive, like he was mad at himself. He just stared at you like he always did, you were alway involved in his dreams so he needed to look at you to stay grounded.
"Sorry," his 's' still slurred, "I-...I'm sorry," he wanted to say something else, you could hear it in his tone. His head dropped, Bucky almost fell over at the sight of his hair, "did I do that?" He asked, his nose turned up.
All you did was nod, any verbal answer would've sounded almost grossed out or accusatory. He sighed and looked between the hair and you, he wanted to say something, he'd already stopped himself once.
"Tell me," you whispered.
"I want to cut my hair," Bucky responded softly, "I-I also want to sleep on the floor from now own." He seemed ashamed of the second ask.
"You like the cold?" You tried to figure him out.
"That and it's...comforting...I think," Bucky scratched his head, his metal hand slowing at the thin spot from tugging, "it just grounds me, I'm not used to fluffy things- nicer things."
"How about a mattress pad, you're back will scream at you in the morning." You tried to lighten the mood, he smiled a bit and then nodded. "How about you come sleep in my room tonight, just so I can keep an eye on you and if you want to sleep on my firm mattress you can hop on, how's that?" You stood and held your hand out, Bucky nodded and clapped his metal hand to yours.
You led him down the hallway and to your room, it was really quiet and almost off putting. You slept barefoot so the sound of soft footsteps from your feet was the only thing you heard, Bucky wore socks.
He went straight to your bed and felt the mattress, both hands pressing down on it to see the give it has. You felt a little happy when he was nodding in a positive way; his bottom lip also pouted out.
Bucky slipped in and you joined as well, he stayed still for a while, on his back and staring at the ceiling.
"Y'know, you can cuddle," you whispered, without another second to blink Bucky's face rested on your chest, his arm circled your body completely in a tight hug. Your hands found their way to his back and to his hair, softly lulling him to sleep, "I'll cut your hair in the morning."
"Love you," he murmured.
#bucky barns fluff#bucky oneshot#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes#fatws bucky#bucky x reader#bucky fluff#bucky x female reader#bucky barns
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