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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

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Flaws

Written for @honeysucklesteve’s 4k writing challenge! If you haven’t, go check her out because she’s amazing!

Pairing: Mickey Henry x fem!Reader

Summary: You hate his music taste. He hates yours. You have a bad habit of stealing his gigs. He has a bad habit of fucking you until you can’t walk straight. Everyone has flaws. What are you to do about it?

Word Count: 3822

Warnings: Cursing, hate sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, slight edging, there’s a mirror involved, drugs, alcohol, clubbing, smoking, one mention of lung cancer, mentions of Monday’s plot, so slight spoilers; (I hope I’m not forgetting anything. These kinds of warnings are new to me. If I am, feel free to tell me.)

18+ PLEASE!!! MINORS DNI!!!

A/N: I know I haven’t posted in a while, but here you go! I’m so nervous about posting this. Honestly. I feel like I kinda rushed it a little? I dunno if it’s good. Uhm, I will say that Mickey is not soft in this. You know how he’s all cute and flirty in the movie? Yeah. Not here. I have plans to write for him later on where he’s more on character and adorable and all that, but it’s enemies to lovers and he hates reader and reader hates him. So. Yeah. Have fun with that.

This is a few firsts for me; first published smut, first Mickey Henry fic, and first enemies-to-lovers ever! I’m attached to friends-to-lovers (my parents’ fault), so going in the opposite direction is exciting and I hope it works out! (We’ll see what it can become after it’s been written.)

Also! Yes, I’m adding the link to the inspiration of the remix here. You’ll see what I’m talking about. I imagine more bass, but that’s basically it.

As always, all mistakes are mine and please excuse them as it’s not beta’d! Be kind to yourselves and others! Stay tuned and enjoy!

Part Two - Addictions

My Masterlist

*****

Between the tumultuous, voice losing cheers and the pounding, headache inducing bass, it’s a miracle the occupants of the building can hear anything at all. The large room is doused in bright pinks, purples and blues, glitter getting into every pore and crack, the smell of cigarette smoke and booze lingering in the air.

Bodies pressed together uncomfortably tight, breath and sweat mixing in a way that can’t be enjoyable, but no one notices because they’re all too high and drunk. There’s a couple swallowing each other in every dark corner of the room. A group of guys looking to get some are laughing rather obnoxiously at the bar, having consumed far too much alcohol to be safe.

Bouncers are escorting people out left and right; a streaker who decided to get on a table and dance, a couple who took it a bit too far over the bar counter, a group of girls who were no doubt too young to be in such an environment. Boisterous, chaotic, borderline dangerous.

There’s no place he’d rather be on a Friday night.

Up on the center stage, playing around with his tracks, messing with the turntables, pulse connecting to the music, head bobbing with the beat. He’s in control.

Every party. Every Friday, Saturday, Sunday night. Every weekend.

He’s in control.

It’s what he liked so much about doing what he does. Once he’s booked, he’s booked. It’s his night. He controls the sounds people hear. He controls what they dance to. How they dance. The pace of the night. The feeling of the night. And no one can take it away from him.

No one, that is, except you.

He hears you before he sees you, which is nearly impossible considering how loud the music is, but you somehow manage to take control of the room the moment you walk in it. You always get what you want with a bat of your eyelashes. And if you aren’t given it, you take what you want without regard for other people.

It really really pisses him off.

You’re laughing with a group of your friends, guys and girls’ heads swiveling to stare at you, captivating every heart in the room as per usual. You always show up with the same group, but he doesn’t even know any of their names even though you run in the same circles. It’s not like you end up hanging out with them for long, and you never leave with them. No, no. You always leave with him.

And that pissed him off too.

He can’t help it. He has absolutely no control over himself when it comes to you. And he hates you for it. He hates that he lets you take over with only a few snarky comments in his defense. He hates that you always get into his head. And he hates that you’re the best fuck he’d ever had and he can never get enough of you.

But most of all…he hates your music.

“Hey, hey! There he is!” You send him that infuriating smile of yours, a drink in your hand. It’s a flaw of yours. One of many, but probably the biggest. Alcohol. Like him and his cigarettes. He watches you with narrowed eyes as you effortlessly move through the crowd, your girls and guys seeming to vanish into the mob with every step you take.

You end up in front of the stage, leaning on it and giving him a smirk as you sip on your beverage choice of the night. It’s always something different. The only common factor is the alcohol you crave, letting it wash over your tongue, burn down your throat and slip into your veins.

“Heya, Mouse!”

“Don’t call me that!” He shouts with a growl over the music, pulling his headphones down around his neck. “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“I got called this morning! Said there was a gig tonight!”

He shakes his head, gesturing to the set up. “You’re a bit too late there, sunshine! Gig’s booked!”

You shake your head back at him. “I’m taking over from here, Mouse!”

“Says who?!”

“Argyris!”

His jaw clenches, his forehead creasing, a skeptical scoff leaving his lips. “Fuck you! No he didn’t! He said this one’s mine!”

You just give a shrug, no cares in the world, downing the rest of your drink. “You can fuck me later! For now, if you wanna whine about it, Daddy’s over there!”

Another growl leaves his chest as he scowls at you, eyes darting to where you’re pointing. Argyris is by the bar, of course, swaying on the seat. Barking out a laugh, he looks at you with a shake of his head. “He’s so drunk he probably shit himself again! You can’t take his word for it!”

“I can when he called me this morning, sober as he can get!” You shoot back, hopping up to stand besides him. “Besides! Someone’s gotta make sure these people have an actual good time!”

“Don’t touch anything until I get back!” He snaps, pointing warningly at you as he starts to walk towards Argyris.

You smile innocently, even though he knows you’re anything but. “Yes, sir!”

He marches over to his asshole friend and grabs him by the shirt, turning him around. “Mickey! Havin’ a good time?!”

Mickey glares, feeling his blood boil and his ears heat up, not from the proximity of strangers around him. “What the fuck?! You told sunshine over there that she could have my gig?!”

“I thought you’d wanna break! Dance and relax for a little bit! It’s only a two hour slot I gave her!”

“You should’ve fucking asked, Argyris! I don’t want her anywhere near my-” His sentence is cut off by a change in the music and he whips over to the stage where you’re grinning and jumping with the crowd. You catch his eye and throw him a wink, holding one of the headphone cups over your ear. “ Oh for the love of - she’s messing with my stuff!”

“I thought you liked her!”

Spluttering, Mickey gapes at the other man in disbelief. “Like her? I can’t stand her! She’s so fucking annoying!”

“What’s so annoying about her?!”

Mickey snatches the drink Argyris was about to gulp down and slams it on the counter. “She’s a spoiled fucking brat! Everyone lets her do whatever she wants! She steals half my fucking gigs! And her music is shit! Listen to this!”

Argyris looks around the room and shrugs. “Everyone else seems to like it! Sure it’s different than your disco-”

“It’s not disco!”

“But it’s a crowd pleaser! Just relax! Have a drink and go dance!”

“Argyris!” Wanting to scream in frustration, he watches the man stumble off to get another drink down the bar. “Dammit! This is fucking shit.” Grumbling to himself, Mickey storms back over to the stage, easily pulling himself up.

You bite your lip and raise an eyebrow at him. “So?! How’d your date with Argyris go?!”

“I hate you so fucking much! Use your own fucking headphones!” He snatches the pair from your neck, pulling the cord out. “Why do you always have to steal my gigs?!”

You shrug, leaning forwards to brush your lips against his ear. “Yours are so much fun.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyebrows furrowing. This always happens. Every time. The moment he feels in control, you do something and he feels every ounce of himself slipping away. It’s the reason he fucks you. To take back that control he so easily gives to you. To make sure you understand that on the weekends, he’s in charge.

But not tonight. No, no. Not tonight. He refuses to get caught up in that game tonight. You wouldn’t end up in an alley or some bathroom with him. He wouldn’t end up on your couch or in his kitchen with you. He refuses to let it happen. Again.

Instead, he lets out a chuckle and nods. “Yeah. Okay. Whatever sunshine.” He takes a step back, giving you a smirk as your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You have fun playing your shitty music!”

“Have fun moping!” You call back, turning to the table and ignoring him completely as he groans and jumps off the stage.

Good God. You’re infuriating.

But so is he.

You hate Mickey Henry. You just do. You hate that he has zero responsibilities and gets away with it. You hate that he can charm his way out of any situation. You hate how immature he is and how no one ever forces him to grow up. And you hate how easily you let him take charge when he’s with you. After a life full of people making choices for you, you crave control, but with him? The moment he tells you to get on your knees, you fall, no matter where you are or what you’re doing.

But most of all…you hate his music.

You take his gigs to save people from listening to it, but also so he knows he can’t talk every situation into his favor. That Argyris can’t always take care of his job for him. He never checks up on gigs once Argyris tells him he has them. So it’s really his fault for not taking some responsibility.

Watching from the stage as your music flows through you, vibrating your bones and sinking into your skin, you’re not surprised to see him get out a cigarette as he heads to a mutual acquaintance of yours. He has many flaws, but that’s a major one. Like you and your alcohol. Him and his cigarettes. You wouldn’t be surprised if you learn a couple months from now that he has lung cancer.

Mickey is talking low to the guy and you already know what’s going on. That was a flaw you both shared. Drugs. He is much more intense than you though. While you’d be fine with some pot, he almost always hits hard with cocaine. Not that you’re innocent from that type yourself - you’d done it multiple times with the man himself if you ended up at each other’s place. Never in the bedroom. You never made it that far, and you don’t really care to. But after those times bent over the table, being pounded into the couch, hanging against the wall, you’d get high with him before one of you takes off.

You’re not exactly sure what happened earlier. You were a bit shocked when he stepped away. Not that you usually left so early, but he didn’t even stay to bicker some more.

Not that you care. You’re just…curious. Maybe he’s finally growing tired of the game you’ve been playing. You’ve been playing it for a few years now. With that weird little pause last year.

You actually thought he had changed.

Having run into him at a party, you prepared yourself for the arguing that no doubt would end in sex. But it didn’t. It didn’t even start. He was with someone. Like, steady with someone. As in dating someone. Living with her. To the point where his baby mama actually agreed to let him keep his boy in their apartment as long as they were together.

It was a weird six months. You two actually had real conversations. You knew how soft and goofy he could get; you had loads of mutual friends and often went to the same parties so you’d seen that side of him. It was just…odd because it never came out with you. But it did then. And you…liked it. You didn’t see him as often, especially once his kid was cleared to live with them. He stopped going out on weekends, started just attending the small shindigs your friends hosted, worked from home instead of DJing.

But then his girl - what was her name? Claire? Caitie? You can’t remember - left for a job in the States just a few months ago and he was back to square one. His baby mama took back the custody privileges, he went back to partying every weekend, and you fell right back into your petty bickering and rough fucking.

You feel bad. Really, you do. You heard that he’d actually loved that chick. And you know he wanted to see his kid more. You knew about the room at his place. But that almost made you hate him more. That he went right back to his old self. He didn’t even try. He got a taste of being a responsible adult, and then let it go.

Because no matter how hard people try, flaws are flaws. And no one can change that much.

As the night goes on, more booze enters your system, while more cocaine enters his. There’s the occasional glare or immature finger raising between you two. Mickey even sticks his tongue out at you while dancing with some broad, a smirk lifting up the corners of his mouth as yours twist down and your eyes roll.

Your features quickly morph into smug amusement as an idea pops into your head and his eyes narrow. What are you up to? He quickly finds out as you stop the music and bring a microphone to your lips.

“Hey, hey, party people! Everyone’s night going fantastic?!” Cheers are your response. Mickey scowls, not liking where this is going, and starts heading your way. You wink at him. “I’m gonna change it up for just this one song! It’s a dedication song to a good friend of mine! It’s a bit different than the usual stuff, but it’s a bop, I promise! Here’s to the Mouse!”

He immediately freezes as the song starts. “Meeska! Mooska! Mickey Mouse!” He feels his face heat up, his fists balling up at his sides, glaring at you and your shit eating grin as you roll your body to the beat, his feet taking him to the stage.

Effortlessly lifting himself onto it once more, he grabs both your wrists in one of his larger ones to stop the music without you interfering, his rings digging into your skin. “Aww! But, Mouse! We didn’t even get to the roll call!”

“Shut. Up.” He grits out through clenched teeth, putting something else on absentmindedly. He didn’t want Argyris on his ass later for leaving the crowd without music. “God. Stop being a fucking pain in my fucking ass for one fucking minute.”

You roll your eyes, but he’s pulling you away before you can reply. Next thing you know he’s shoving you into the bathroom, growling at the girls that were smoking up the place to get out.

“You think you’re so cute, don’t you, princess?” He hisses in your ear, slamming you against the door once the girls left. He’s so tired of giving in to you, but he can’t help it, crashing his lips against yours messily. Teeth and tongue, the taste of smoke and the fruity drink you had chosen for the night mixing, only making him press closer. Your hands get pinned above your head and he’s pulling your skirt up, bunching it at your waist. It’s rough and careless and fueled by loathing, but when is it not? “Think you’re so funny? Huh?”

“Yeah.” You breath, smirking as he slots a thigh between your legs, squeezing your hips and pressing you down against him, flexing the muscle and making you squirm.

His teeth are biting at your bottom lip and tugging, his hands dragging your clothed core along his thigh. “Let’s see how funny you think you are when I’m fucking you so hard you forget how to breathe.”

Your breath hitches and your hands previously above your head clutch onto his shirt at the friction against your clit. It’s not enough and he knows, but you don’t tell him. “All this over a silly song?” You jest.

He sneers back at you, ignoring your tease. “Did you get jealous, sunshine? Is that what happened? Is that why you decided to be a little shit?”

“Jealous?” You scoff as he attacks your neck, your hands quickly undoing his belt before he shoves his pants down, his briefs following along with your panties. “Jealous of you, maybe. That girl was hot. Way outta your lea - oh shit.”

You always forget how deep he reaches inside you, how much the stretch is. He’s not soft about it, entering you in one swift thrust, your hips connecting. His hands are dimpling your bare thighs, hefting you up so your legs wrap around his waist, rings on his fingers no doubt making imprints. The door against your back starts rattling with every movement, but the music outside was too loud for anyone to hear it.

“Not so mouthy now, are we?” He snaps in time with his hips. He can feel you tightening around him, your fingers dragging down his chest, trying desperately to pull his shirt off.

“C’mon, Mouse. That's all you got?” You pant out, a little whine leaving your lips when he leaves you suddenly, dropping you to your feet. “Mickey! What-”

He cuts you off by pushing you against the counter, a shout leaving your lip when he takes you from behind, making you surge forwards, your head almost hitting the mirror, pelvis hitting your ass with every piston of his hips. His hand is tangled in your hair and he tugs, making your head snap up. “Look at you. So fucked out. I did that. I’m the best fuck you’ve ever had and we both know it.” He isn’t wrong. Your makeup’s a mess, your hair is wrapped around his fingers.

“You’re the one who keeps fucking me.” You argue back, your spine arching as he hits that perfect spot inside you. Over and over and over.

He growls, leaning forwards to fold over you, his lips by your ear. “And who keep being a fucking brat? Huh? Who keeps coming to my gigs, fucking up my weekend? Practically begging me to fuck you.”

You scowl at him in the mirror. “I don’t beg.”

The chuckle that leaves his lips makes you shiver and you whimper when he tugs your hair harder, the sting of your scalp mixing with the pleasure his cock was giving you.

“You will. You may get everything you want from everyone else, princess, but I’m in charge here. Don’t. You. Forget.” His words are punctuated with a hard thrust, making you lurch forwards, your thighs pressing harshly against the counter.

“Oh God…Mickey,” that familiar tightness in your stomach appears, your eye clenching shut as your toes curl. “I’m so close…”

“Open your goddamn eyes. Look who’s doing this to you. Who fucking owns this pussy? Huh?”

Your eyes snap open and meet his again, his breaths fanning across your face, rapidly becoming less steady. “You.”

“That’s right. You wanna cum, sunshine?” You nod vigorously. He takes your lobe between his teeth and tugs as he stills his hips, keeping himself inside you. “Then beg.”

And, just like the many times before, you do. You do because you don’t actually care about begging. You care about him ruining you. That’s what you want. And you always get what you want. Fuck your dignity.

He starts up slowly again as you plead, stopping a couple more times when you feel yourself getting close. “Mickey! Please, for the love of God!” He’s never edged you this much. Not this intensely. And not in the bathroom at a club. Usually it’s just a quickie before you take him home or vice versa.

But you pissed him off tonight. More so than usual. It was a good night and then you came along. Took his job. Played that dumb song. So he needs to remind you. Put you in your place. “You may be spoiled by everyone else, princess, but I’m the only one who can give you what you really want.”

“God, you’re so annoying.” You grind out through your clenched teeth.

He just smirks. “That wasn’t a denial. Let go, Y/N. Make a mess of my cock. Watch yourself fall apart for me.”

You do as he says, watching your jaw go slack in a silent scream, your body tensing, your legs shaking, as he finally lets you have what you want. Body going slack against the counter, he keeps rutting into you until he groans, a string of profanities leaving his lips as he spills inside you.

The both of you stay there, with him folded on top of you, his forehead resting against the nape of your neck, his grip on your hair loosening.

“That was fun. A little different.” You hum as he gets up. He’s glaring at you as you straighten and fix yourself. “Good orgasm though, so thanks for that. But I gotta get back to work now.”

“You’re such a pain in my ass.” He mutters, tucking himself away and pulling his pants up.

“Kinky. Maybe next time.” You wink at him through the mirror and his jaw ticks. He’s so fucking tired of it. Of you. How you let him have that one bit of control and then your right back to controlling the room once you get what you want. There’s so many nights where he wonders if he should just stop giving it to you. But then he’s inside you and he can’t help himself.

He watches you touch yourself up, although you still look thoroughly fucked, but you don’t seem to mind. This is new. You going back to the gig you stole after sex. He wonders if that was the last time for tonight, or if you’d be leaving together later too.

“I fucking hate you.” He spits out as you open the door, wanting to get the last word in.

You just smirk the same way he did to you earlier. “Yeah…but you love fucking me. Later, Mouse.”

Just like always, you’re the last comment as you walk out nonchalantly, even though he could see the slight wobble in your steps, the door shutting behind you, leaving him alone.

You hate Mickey Henry. You loathe him. You wish you never met him. But you can’t get enough. No matter how many times you convince yourself you have him where you want him, you know you don’t. You’d let him do anything to you. But you can’t stop. Like him and his cigarettes. He’s your flaw. And no matter how bad he is for you, you’re addicted.

Mickey Henry hates you. He loathes you. He wishes he never met you. But he can’t get enough. No matter how many times he convinces himself he’s in control, he knows he’s not. He always gives you what you want at the end of the day. But he can’t stop. Like you and your alcohol. You’re his flaw. And no matter how bad it is for him, he’s addicted.

*****

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writefightandflightclub · 4 years

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Trial by Fire (Part 1/3) Santiago “Pope” Garcia x GN reader

Summary: You’re finally introducing your new boyfriend to The Boys. It must be intimidating for your guy because, hello? Not only are they literally lethal, as well as infeasibly handsome, but they’re hella protective of you to boot. They want the best for you so, naturally, they make your guy run the gauntlet the whole evening. Santiago, though? Well. Given that he is secretly in love with you? Let’s just say he doesn’t handle the situation very well at all.

Genre / tropes: angst, friends to lovers, love confession.

Author’s note: I wasn’t planning on writing this (in fact I’m writing the opposite, where “Santi has a new girlfriend and you don’t take it well” as a series, loosely based around the 7 deadly sins); but, in the meatime, I wrote this to get back into the swing of things after a lil break. It’s just a quick one, but there will be a second and final part, if you want it! Let me know!

Word count: somehow, 4.4k.

Warnings: language, angst, best friends arguing, Santi being an asshole.

Rating: T

The boys aren’t being as awful as you had anticipated, at least. For the most part, they’re actually being pretty friendly, and although they’ve transitioned into grilling Dean about every aspect of his life, they are at least listening intently and smiling at his answers. All except for one fucker, of course; and, naturally, surprising no-one, the fucker misbehaving is one (1) Santiago “Pope” Garcia.

The group - the boys, yourself, and Dean- are huddled comfortably around the blazing warmth of the fire pit in Frankie’s yard. The dancing, oranged flames cut through the dark and cold of the crisp night, as you sit upwind of the smoke on scattered, mis-matched camp chairs.

Whilst the others are evidently enjoying the evening -faces painted with smiles, body language open and leaning-in to chat to Dean- that fucker Santi is leaning back in his chair, his jaw twitching in seeming aggravation, his arms folded, and his intense eyes needling your beau. In this dim light, with the firelight licking over the sharp planes of his face, he looks every bit like a trained killer about to leap out of the shadows and garotte someone. Well… a very petulant trained killer. His call sign should have been Mr. Grumpy Pants, you think idly.

What’s up with him this time?! you wonder.

He gets these moods sometimes. And, when it strikes him, he can be a little bit hostile - despite the fact he’s a puppy underneath it all. You had hoped that for once, maybe he would suck it up, and yet, your hopes had been in vain, it seems.

Every time Dean speaks, or touches you, or even laughs at another of the guys’ stories, Santi’s expression sinks further and further through layers of distaste; and, by this point, he’s eyeing Dean as though he’s a war criminal the squad have been sent to take-out. You half expect him to leap up and take down Frankie any second for fraternizing with “the enemy”, if you’re honest.

Truth be told, you’ve had just about enough of this. Your friend had better buck his ideas up, sharpish, or he’d be reminded very swiftly that you were Delta Force too.

For now, trying to ignore the bastard, you look back at Dean, and the sight of him in animated conversation with your buddies causes at least some of your aggravation to fall away. Things have been going well between you and Dean, even if you do say so yourself. Originally from Michigan, he now worked as a lecturer at a nearby music school. He was also a banjo musician in a bluegrass / synth power-pop mash-up of a band, which (sort of) explained his retro-inspired mop of brown hair and his thick dark moustache - majestic enough to rival Frankie’s. True, he wasn’t your usual type, but he was honest, and sweet and kind... Plus, he’d never killed anyone with his bare hands, which was rather refreshing too, if you were honest.

Safe to say, so far, things were working out. So well, in fact, that you’d recently met his parents for the first time while they were in town. So well, in fact, that -after keeping him purposefully away from the boys for as long as you feasibly could- you’d now brought him to meet your family. That’s what this squad was to you, after all. Your family.

Remembering sporadic moments from the past few months together, you smile gently as you listen to Dean talk. You watch him seamlessly integrate some tailored conversation starters you’d fed him ahead of time, and you gently squeeze his thigh in an act of reassurance and appreciation. He is feeling the pressure, you can tell, although he is handling it well. To be fair, you think, who wouldn’t feel the pressure? You’d been nervous enough to meet his parents, but this? A bunch of Delta Force guys and an MMA champion? This squad was lethal; literally -you’ve lost track of your combined kill count, though Will probably hasn’t, you are sure.

Aside from that though, most of all, they are your family. You need them to like Dean and vice versa, and you know that isn’t necessarily a given. You are a tight-knit group, with little hope of outsiders grasping the full extent of your decade’s old in-jokes, or the intense camaraderie instilled by facing a hail of bullets together. Plus, as the baby of the group, they were protective as all hell of you.

It came from a good place, you knew: they wanted what was best for you. But, there was a reason you’d delayed this meeting... It’s not as though they were threatening or anything. They didn’t do the whole “if you hurt our buddy, I’ll kill you” thing, for example (at least, not while you were present – you couldn’t vouch for what happened when you were out of earshot). However, after introducing a succession of boyfriends to them over the years, the squad had developed a well-rehearsed system for sizing-up your new squeeze. In the past, not all of your squeezes had made it through the gauntlet. It was a trial by fire, to be sure, and you were pleased that Dean has not yet been burned.

Of course, whilst the boys’ approval didn’t mean everything to you, you couldn’t deny it was important; perhaps especially this time, with this guy. And, out of all of the group, Santi’s approval meant the most to you. Always had. Probably because Santi meant the most to you, full stop. You simply couldn’t imagine having someone in your life that didn’t get on with your best friend. And, so, you are not overly thrilled at the reception Santi is giving Dean right now. The reception he had been giving him all evening, in fact. And the more you dwell on it, the more an anger bubbles forth from you. Even though you try to push it down, and focus on Dean, that fucker in the corner of your eye sends you.

“What’s wrong with you tonight, Garcia?” you blurt out, a little louder than intended, causing the amiable chat and giggles to stall, all eyes turning to you - then, in turn, following the direction of your fiery gaze over to Santi, who shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

Now, he leans forward. Looks back at you with a rare venom in his eyes. With a smug curl of his mouth, he dips to pick up his beer from the floor and takes a swig - buying himself some time. Trying to brush you off. Still, your gaze does not relent as he rests his elbows on his thighs, bridging his fingers together in the space between, thumbs sticking in the air.

Now, he engages, and he looks directly at Dean, his eyes sweeping dismissively over the entirety of his form. Now, he speaks, his voice filled with far more bitterness than the situation merits. “Nothing at all. I’m fucking peachy. So, Dean. You play the motherfuckin’ banjo?” he offers, and yet, it sounds far more like an accusation than a question.

What the fuck is up with him?

Wilting a little beneath Santi’s stare, as the ex-operative squints his eyes in his direction, Dean casts a helpless, sideward glance at you from his place in the circle, and yet, you are so stupefied by anger that you can do little to help.

“I think what my dear friend means to say -” Frankie dips in valiantly, smacking Santi pointedly on the thigh, likely hoping to smack some sense into him too “- is why don’t you tell us more about your music, Dean?”

Frankie’s eyes and smile are soft when he looks at you, surreptitiously exchanging a pointed look -what’s up with that pendejo?- and you are grateful that at least some of the evident tension is diffused when he picks up the slack in the conversation.

Santi and his mood swings be damned, and, feeling bolstered, Dean continues on.

“Actually, it’s going pretty frickin’ well with the band. It’s a side-gig to my lecturing job, but we’re planning a tour during summer vacation. The States -east coast- and Western Europe for now. Maybe headlining a couple of small festivals, if that pans out, who knows.” Dean relates, humbly.

“That’s great, man,” Will chips in, helping Frankie get things back on track. “We’ll have to come down to a gig soon, hear you play.”

“Actually, we have something to tell you about the tour, don’t we, babe?” Dean says bashfully, and he looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to pick-up the thread. You’d talked about it before coming today, and it had seemed like a great idea at the time, but suddenly, now that the announcement is imminent, your mouth is dry - as if filled with cotton. Still, you force a smile, and you’re not sure why, but you look anywhere else but at Santi as your lips form the words. “Yeah – kinda big news, fellas. I’m going to join Dean on the Europe leg of the tour. I’ll be leaving you losers behind for a few months.”

Dean’s face cracks into a smile and he reaches for your hand, looking made-up at the prospect. Still, while you will yourself to be fully present in the moment, you find yourself focussed on looking anywhere but at Santi, sure that his stare must be boring into the side of your head. You hadn’t told him yet. Unfortunately, at Santi is where just about everyone else ends up looking, as the fucker abruptly pushes his camp chair back and stands, storming indoors before anyone can hope to fathom it.

You exchange glances with Frankie, Will, and Benny, with Benny thankfully stepping-in this time to distract Dean from the obvious, and asking him which stops you two will be making, and which sights you plan to see.

“Look, man, don’t mind that tool. Got any sightseeing plans?”

What is Santi’s problem? Why can’t he give Dean a chance? Yes, you’ve made some mistakes in the past- been hurt, and Santi had helped you pick up the pieces -every time- but you had a good feeling about Dean. A really good feeling. Can’t he see that too?

Frankie throws a concerned glance back towards the house and motions as if to stand, but you beat him to it, wanting to get to the bottom of this. “I’ll go,” you insist, motioning for Frankie to stay put, and with a quick promise to Dean that you’ll be back soon (and a silent plea to your boys to take care of him in your absence), you do just that, walk-jogging across the grass.

When you step inside to the kitchen, you find Santi stood, hunched over the counter, his palms clasping the surface tight enough that his knuckles pale, and his head hung low, his shoulders rising and falling as he takes in exaggerated breaths.

“Well?” you ask pointedly, with zero tolerance for his bullshit. “What’s going on with you? Wanna explain why you’re being an ass to my boyfriend?” you challenge to the back of him, and he instantly whips around at the sound of your voice.

“I’m being an ass?” he asks indignantly, his eyebrows shooting towards the top of his head.

“Yes. In a nutshell. Yes,” you hiss, any other interpretation feeling impossible. You fold your arms and purse your lips, making it plainly evident that you are waiting for some explanation. And, oh boy, it had better be good.

Instead of explaining though, Santi simply huffs out breath, gesturing angrily out of the window. “That guy, really? That’s the guy you’re gonna go all in for? Go to fucking Europe for?”

That guy, you mouth silently, completely stupefied for a moment. You’re not sure exactly what your so-called friend is insinuating, but you are clear that you don’t like it one bit.

“What is your fucking problem?” you ask, punctuating your words with motions of your hands, as if you are trying to strangle the air in-between you in lieu of his neck. “Dean’s a catch. He’s hot, he’s sweet, he’s a nice guy. He’s there for me. He takes care of me.”

“Like I don’t take care of you?!” Santi exclaims, his voice rising and abrasive; and then, immediately after the words tumble forth from his lips, he steps back imperceptibly, as if startled by his own outburst, his hand rasping over the stubble on his chin.

“What in the...? This isn’t about you, you ass!” you bite back, face scrunching up in confusion. Your fingers come to your temples as you grow increasingly lost-off and perplexed, and seemingly, your riposte only makes Santi double down on whatever the hell he is complaining about.

“Who’s the one who’s always been there for you, hmm? Who picks up the pieces every time you make yet another dumb shitty choice with another shitty guy?” he rambles, gesturing his hand towards you dismissively.

You step back from him this time, just a little, tears spiking instantaneously in your eyes at such an unnecessarily cruel blow. He’s right, in a sense: you had always relied on Santi to heal you, not to hurt you - and yet here he was dealing these painful, incoherent blows out of nowhere.

“Shit, Garcia. If it’s that much trouble to be there for me don’t bother next time,” you snap, your voice breaking as the swell of anger and hurt and adrenalin sends tears spilling over your cheeks. “Don’t worry though, I don’t think I’ll need you again. In fact, I have a feeling this guy might stick. So, maybe? Maybe you should think about the fact that the only shitty guy around here is you.”

“You really think he’s good enough for you, hmm? He’s really who you want to end up with?”

You listen, aghast, as his tirade keeps coming. However, as Santi’s voice breaks with emotion part-way through his second question, you can’t explain it, but you feel an intolerable sadness in the pit of you. Even though you’re not sure what’s causing all this, what you’re barrelling toward, you want to thrust this sadness away from you. Push him away from you. You want to push away the knot in your stomach for fear that if you tug at that thread, you might arrive at an answer to his question.

Exasperated, overwhelmed, you roughly paw tears from your cheeks, not knowing where all of these feelings are coming from, in either direction. “Fuck, I... I don’t understand what this is. I don’t get it!” you say, waving your hands, palms-up, through the air. “Is this some macho bullshit? Have I pissed you off somehow?”

At that, the wave of Santi’s anger crests and breaks; as you wonder if you annoyed him. Then, as suddenly as his anger came it is waning, his eyes pooling with rare tears now. With a huff of breath he tears off his damn cap, tossing it aside to run a hand through his grizzled hair.

“No. No,” he backtracks a little, palms up in surrender. “You haven’t... I.... I just...” He pinches his lips in-between his teeth and looks up at the ceiling as his words trail off, perhaps trying to steady his voice before continuing. Or, perhaps he has nothing else to say to you. Perhaps he’s said enough.

You examine him. Still pissed as all hell, but worried now too, and ultimately, your love for your best friend slightly edging-out the anger. It’s rare that anything affects him like this, and you can’t help the sudden rush of concern.

Cresting too, you exhale a tightly held breath into the now silent, taut space between you, and your body sags - just a little. You chew over your words a moment, but when your voice comes back the volume is lower, your tone softer - and, although it cannot be considered friendly, by any stretch, it’s the best you can do right now.

“You know what,” you offer, generously, wrapping your arms around your own middle, stroking your forearms with your own fingertips. “I’m giving you a pass. You don’t even want to give Dean a chance? Then just leave, Santi. Just go. I’ll give the guys some bullshit excuse that doesn’t leave you looking like a total ass, because I’m not a dick to my friends. So just go, okay?” You pump your eyebrow at him indignantly and await a response, your manner stiff and unyielding.

Santi closes his eyes and knits his brow together, something like regret finally passing over his face and he shuffles guiltily from foot-to-foot.

You puff out air through your teeth and shake your head, as you observe this Delta Force hero; the bravest man you know in many ways, but still too cowardly to tell it like it is. To admit that he’s in the wrong. You are afraid to say that even as his gaze comes back to you, misty-eyed, you have little sympathy for his plight. You are sure it is of his own doing. You are almost as sure that he won’t open-up.

“You know,” you begin, breaking from your position and gathering up a fresh cooler of beers from the fridge, turned away from him as you speak. “I brought Dean to meet my family. Do you understand that? I didn’t have parents and siblings for him to meet. I have you guys. You’re my family.”

Still nothing. Nothing but silence greets you. Nothing but a pained expression on his face, his brows drown together and the artificial light of the kitchen highlighting the harsh planes of his face as you look over your shoulder at him, waiting for some reaction. Some admission of guilt. None comes. He simply slots his hands into his jean pockets, looking sheepish.

“So,” you continue, greeted with a brick wall, “fuck knows why you don’t want me to be happy, but I am. I’m happy with him. Thanks a ton for shitting all over that.”

You don’t even bother to look towards him this time, instead placing the last of the clinking, condensation-adorned bottles into the carrier, resigned to head back out without him, and without any apology.

“I’m sorry,” he finally says, and your head whips towards him in surprise.

He looks it - sorry. He looks apologetic. Deeply so. He looks sorry for this, for every way he’s ever slighted you, for every time he’s hurt you, even in ways and moments you never knew about. He looks sorry down to the pit of him, and it catches you off-guard when you see it freely offered there in his eyes.

Even so, this is a stubborn man. There’s an apology, but there’s no explanation. Nothing to explain his behaviour. So, even though it seems genuine, it also doesn’t seem like enough.

It doesn’t appease you, and yet, all you can bring yourself to do is sigh deeply.

You know Santi better than anyone, but there’s always been a part of him that has seemed out of reach, even to you. You’re not sure -never have been- whether to be scared or excited by those unknown parts of him. Not sure whether the impasse hints at buried secrets too dark and deep to bear, or whether it hints of a possibility of something more. Something deeper or something better you could have together, if only he would let you in. You don’t know, and you never have, but all you are sure of is that you have constantly teetered on the edge of that abyss, too much left unknown to know all of him, however much you may have wished to. He’s entitled to his secrets, of course, but you hate how they hurt him.

With a little sympathy now, you examine his watery eyes, and when your voice comes back this time, it is softer and slower than you intended. More tired than you expected.

“You know, Dean wants to be with me. And he tells me so.” You casually dip down to pick-up the cooler handle, eyes still fixed on your best friend. “He might not be Delta Force… he might be a banjo player from Michigan… but even he’s brave enough for that.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Santi says, bristling all over again, his hand rasping angrily over his stubbled jaw, and yet, you decline him an explanation. Instead, keeping your own secrets now, holding back, you head towards the door, beers in hand.

Still, you turn back to him. You might be angry, but you still care for him -more than you could say.

“If you figure out what’s up with you, let me know, and I’ll be there for you. Whatever you’ve got going on, you know that, right? But this? This isn’t okay, Garcia. You might think that I make dumb choices -you ass, by the way- but I’ve watched you hit self-destruct so many times instead of dealing with your feelings. Maybe you should look at your own life, huh, instead of shitting all over me for trying to be happy? Shit, at least I fucking try.”

His eyes shift from side to side in the room, the muscles in his jaw twitching, chin jutting forward, and his thumbs locked in his belt loops. He can’t quite bring himself to meet your gaze; at least not until you are disappearing through the threshold; until it’s almost too late. Why can’t he ever manage anything unless it’s too late?

“Wait!” he pleads, but you cut him off, before he can speak. Even though, truth be told, you’re not sure he would muster anything to say at all, even if you gave him a chance. He’s so used to holding back.

“No,” you say firmly. “Forget it, I’m done. I still love you- you’re my best friend. But, fuck, just go home, and get out of my sight, Santiago. I’m so pissed with you right now.”

And so, you turn away, and when his words finally do come, they are spoken to the back of your head. They are spoken without you ever seeing his lips move, and you wonder if he ever said them at all, or if this might be some cruel trick of the night. Some witching hour spell. That is, until you turn towards him and you see the words painted clearly on his face too.

“Fuck it. I’m in love with you.”

I’m in love with you.

Why can’t he ever manage anything unless it’s too late?

You’re not sure what reaction he was expecting, but you almost choke on the sudden lump in your throat. You feel a taste of bile rising-up into your mouth. An intense, resurgent anger fills you, which near makes the room spin, and makes your hands and your legs tremble.

Even if a hidden, unconscious part of you has been waiting, hoping for these words all these years, when they finally come all you can feel is... royally pissed off.

“Oh. No. No. No,” you repeat, words gradually increasing in volume, looking at Santi as if he has mortally wounded you, rather than offered that confession. “You do not get to do this to me.”

You see a hard swallow bob down his throat, a near-instant regret on his face, and your heart pounds in your chest as you reel with the implications of his words.

The coward. The fucking asshole. He waited until now? All the times things had gone to shit, and he waited until you were happy?

“All the times...” you accuse, your tone as bitter as the taste in your mouth, the metallic tang of blood as you feel a rushing in your ears. “All the fucking times. All the chances, Santi, and you do this now?” you continue, your finger sawing through the air, wagging accusations at him, even as your voice wavers, as your hands notceably tremble. “No. Fuck you, Garcia. Fuck you.”

You want to cry, or scream, but you are too angry. So angry, that it eclipses anything else which might come to light. So angry that you almost come full circle again, beginning to stabilise out at eerily calm.

Santi looks down at the floor, and exhales air, chuckling disbelievingly to himself, then lightly nodding his head, lips pressed tightly together. His feet shift agitatedly below him as he brings his endlessly familiar eyes back up to meet yours. This time when he looks at you, it hurts. You remember bullet wounds, and you swear that was nothing compared to this.

“That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say to me, hmm? Fuck you, Garcia?”

“What the fuck were you expecting?” you say, launching your words before you realise the implications of them. Yes, you know fine well that your boyfriend is sitting outside, likely wondering where you have got to. But, if you had the wherewithall to have thought about it, you would know exactly what Santi was expecting, despite all of that. You would know that a part of him must be expecting, hoping, that when he told you, you might reciprocate. That you might love him back.

And, would that be so outside of the realms of possibility? Would it be so hard to imagine that the deep, magnetic, and unshakeable friendship you shared could be something else? Something more? That you could tip over the edge you had long been teetering on? Maybe it could, or maybe it could have, but right now, you can’t see past the flashbang he has just dropped over your life, and it is clouding your vision.

You were happy. You are happy. Fuck him for doing this now.

Why would you fall into the unknown for him, if you never knew whether he would catch you? If you never knew whether ruin or safety awaited you if you let yourself tip? He always held back.

What the fuck were you expecting?

Your words linger in the space between you, and in lieu of any other lifeline, realisation dawns on Santi’s face. Realisation that, although he jumped, you are not intending to catch him either. But how could you catch him, with your arms already full?

And, so, he slowly nods his head once again, his eyes beading with glassy tears and his hand grazing over his chin in a self-soothing gesture. Wordlessly, he sets his jaw and he abruptly replaces his baseball cap on his head, padding a few steps forward to stand opposite you, sucking all of the breath from your lungs. This time, when he looks at you, you see all of your past, but you still can’t see beyond that. The abyss still scares you too much.

Like this, facing each other down, eye-to-eye, the silence in the room grows sharp as a knife, refined to a point. So, when Santi abruptly turns to leave in a sharp, determined trajectory, without so much as looking at you, it is as if he has dragged the blade across your skin in an equally swift motion. As if he has left you open and bleeding-out, having delivered a mortal wound with the act of his exit. You’ve felt like this on the battelfield before, and in life, yet he was always there for you. Always there to patch you. To pick up the pieces.

Instead of screaming open-mouthed for help, this time, you simply watch him go, and now you are the wordless one, mustering nothing but a gasped inhale of breath before your vision blurs with tears - as you watch his hazy form disappear along the hall and out of your sight.

“Santi,” you call pathetically, your voice small and weak and teary, barely making it past your throat, and he doesn’t hear you. He doesn’t hear you but even if he had, you’re not sure anymore if he would have stopped.

When Santi slams the front door behind him, you shudder with it in its frame, your hand coming to your chest as if to hold your heart inside your opened-up ribs, and you close your eyes against the jarring sound, tears spilling down your cheeks, your face screwing-up into a shined, contorted grimace.

Entirely lost, now alone, you bizarrely wish for the room to be filled with anger again, instead of the intolerable sadness - which all too suddenly takes hold of you as your emotions crest and break. It is all you can do to stumble forward a few paces and hunch over the countertop, finding yourself in the exact position you had discovered Santi in. You stand, bracing yourself with your arms, fingers clutching the edge of the worktop, and your head slumped forward, tears freely spilling out of you as your chest heaves.

You wonder whether he’d held himself in this same position because he had felt an intolerable sadness too. An intolerable sadness at seeing you happy.

Suddenly you could understand it.

That fucker. Santiago “Pope” Garcia.

I’m in love with you.

The words echo in your mind, but this time, if you’re honest, you’re not wholly sure if they’re his, or yours.

PART TWO IS HERE

#santiago pope garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #triple frontier fanfic

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adminbryantsaki · 3 years

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Alpha! Mafia! Yandere! Hizashi Yamada x Omega! Female! Reader.

( i am here again for a third time with the bnharem’s server collab. This time it is a villain or Villain swap AU. I picked Hizashi Yamada for this AU. I hope you enjoy this story. Make sure to check out everyone else’s stories here. You can read my other works here. Thanks to @koniginwrites for all her help. The banner was made by @dollfacedwithadirtymind. I would recommend listening to Purple Lamborghini by Skrillex and Sucker for Pain by Imagine Dragons while you listen to this to help understand the story below)

(Disclaimer: I do not condone the actions of a Yandere and having a real -life relationship with one is toxic and not safe. Killing someone is not cool people)

TW: Breeding kink, blood, omegaverse shenanigans, yandere, knives, pregnancy, do not read if Endeavor is your comfort character.

If this isn’t your cup of tea, blend of spices, or brew of coffee, move on.

WC: 13,259

You were walking around in the decent-sized apartment that you and your boyfriend, Hizashi Yamada lived in. You had known your boyfriend for a few years now. The two of you had met at a strip club that he had been working a gig at. When the two of you met, he was curious as to why such a cute little thing like you was doing in a place like this. After his gig, the two of you talked and he gave you his number and you called him later that night. When you got home that evening, you called him and the two of you set up a date later that week at a cafe that Hizashi recommended. When you arrived at the cafe, you looked around the cafe to look for your date. You spotted Hizashi and waved. He looked up and saw you and waved back. You would walk over to the table after you ordered your drink. Hizashi stood up from the table that he was sitting at and walked over to you. He looked handsome his white button-down jacket and leather trousers as he approached you. You noticed his hair was tied back in a half bun and the glasses that he wore had transition lenses so it looked like he was wearing sunglasses while he was indoors.

“Hello there, Y/N.” He spoke. You looked up at him and smiled.

“Hello, Hizashi. How are you?” You asked.

“I’m good. I’m glad you could find the place. It’s not easy to find. What did you want to order? I’ll pay for it.” He offered.

“I can pay for my own drink. Thank you though.” You responded.

“I insist. This is our first date, I’ll pay.” He responded and pulled out his wallet as the two of you walked up to the register. You told him your order and he repeated it to the cashier and paid for the drink. When your drink was ready, you carried the warm mug and thanked the barista before walking back to the table with Hizashi. He waited until you were seated before retaking his seat across from you.

“So, tell me about yourself, Y/N.” He spoke to start the conversation.

“There’s not much to know about me, I’m pretty basic.” You spoke. Hizashi didn’t believe it. He looked you in the eyes and kept eye contact with you.

“I don’t believe that for a second. You’re cute, and I like the color of your eyes.” He told you. This comment made you blush and look away from the man in front of you.

“Thank you.” You spoke at last. You didn’t remember the last time a man complimented you without the intention of getting in your pants. Hizashi smiled and held your hand.

“You’re welcome.” He said before taking a sip of his drink. You smiled and took a sip of your drink as well. You told him more about yourself and he told you about himself in return. You learned that he had gone to the famous UA when he attended school. You also learned that he also was a radio show host after he decided to step back from hero work. This caught your interest.

“What made you step away from the hero work?” You asked him. You wanted to make sure the man in front of you wasn’t a villain. His eyes flicked up to you when you asked him about his hero work.

“I wanted to focus more on my radio show.” He responded while rubbing the back of his head.

‘Smooth recovery, Yamada.’ He thought to himself. You were smarter than that though. You could read past his cover up.

“Tell me the truth or I’m walking out of here.” You told him in a serious tone. Hizashi froze up and panic began to set in. He was afraid that you would still leave even after what he was about to tell you.

“Now don’t judge me for what I am about to tell you. There has been signs in the past few months that the society that we live in is crumbling. There was a point where it wasn’t safe for Pro Heroes to work as Heroes anymore. After we discussed our options, we left the Hero Commission and joined the Yakuza. Our boss is the former Hero Gang Orca. Don’t worry, we still do things for good but we’re no longer associated with the Hero Commission. That society is corrupt.” Hizashi spoke. You looked back at him for a moment and looked around the café. You noticed one of the baristas as another former pro hero. You noticed some other people that were probably former Pro Heroes as well sitting in the café.

“This place is one of the businesses that your boss owns?” You asked. Hizashi nodded. You smiled.

“That’s cool. As long as you don’t do anything illegal, I’m ok with it.” you told him. He relaxed and kissed the back of your hand. A couple of people from the back had caught your eye. You looked over at them and your eyes widened. You saw a dark-haired man sitting next to another person that had yellow eyes and purple smoke concealing his face and hands.

“Who are they?” You asked him as you gestured over to the table the two men were sitting at. Hizashi looked back and noticed that they had been watching the whole time.

“They are my friends from back in high school. The tired looking guy with black hair is Shouta. The guy with the yellow eyes and purple smoke all over the place is Kurogiri. They’re also in the same group as I am. We actually pulled Kurogiri from the League of Villains and got him to join us. He’s our mode of escape since he can warp to anywhere as long as he knows the coordinates to that place.” He explained to you. You nodded and glanced over at the two men who acknowledged you. You turned back to Hizashi who had a nervous look on his face.

“What is it, Hizashi?” You asked him as you took another sip of your drink.

“I want to ask you one more thing before I take you home.” He asked.

“Go ahead and ask.” You spoke. The man in front of you took a deep breath and looked you in the eyes.

“I’m an Alpha and I don’t have a mate yet. I’d like it if you’d be interested in being my mate.” He spoke. You were stunned. The two of you were only on the first date and he was asking you to be his mate? You looked at Hizashi again, this time noticing the tattoos on his neck and wrists that were now peeking out of his shirt. You smiled and held his hand back.

“You’re lucky there’s no other Alphas after me right now. I’m an Omega and I’d love to be your mate.” You responded. Hizashi let out a sigh of relief and kissed the back of your hand. He stood up and held your hand as the two of you walked out of the café with Aizawa and Kurogiri following behind the both of you at a distance. Hizashi took you to his car and drove you back to your apartment. You gave him directions even though he had secretly found out your address before the date. Hizashi parked the car and walked you to the door of your apartment, kissed your cheek goodnight, waited until you were safely inside your house before he got back into his car, and drove home. He was determined to make you his.

A few months later, after some careful planning and preparation, Hizashi got time off to help you through your upcoming heat. The two of you planned to meet up at the apartment that the two of you moved into about a month ago with the help of Hizashi’s boss in the Yakuza. He was finishing up his shift at the radio station. As he left the station, he shot you a text saying that he was on the way home. that you ignored in your feverish state as you pumped your scent into your apartment. You whimpered and wanted him to come and give you relief from the ache that throbbed down in your pants. You had already made a nest and hid under the fluffy blanket that he had bought you for nesting purposes. You clung to one of his shirts that you stole from his dresser and took in the citrusy scent that calmed you a bit. You heard the door unlock and open. You winced away from the noise as you were unaware of who had just entered your home. You heard the bedroom door creak open and you hid even more. You were scared to look up but the scent of oranges, lemons, and leather wafted down to you which made you look up to see your boyfriend staring down at you. You whimpered and made grabby hands at him. He picked you up and slid into your nest. You whined and he kissed you deeply.

“I’m here baby girl. You’re safe now. I’m going to take care of you and make you mine.” He told you. You moaned out and nodded. He started off by moving down to your neck and marking you. You cried out and panted. He pulled back and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his bare chest that was covered with tattoos. You blushed while staring at the intricate patterns of his tattoos. He pulled your hands up to his chest and let you touch. He kissed one of your hands and activated his quirk to hum against them. You gasped and he smirked. He put his arms above your head and kissed you deeply and moving down to your neck and biting again but this time his quirk was put into use. You let out a string of mewls and moans that sent him reeling into his need to stuff you full of his litter. He groaned and tossed his shirt out of the nest and swiftly removed your clothes from your body while covering your neck with kisses and small bites. He held your hips still while he sucked another mark into your collarbone. You let out a pleasurable noise when he licked the sensitive bite.

“You’re mine now, princess. No one is gonna change that.” He told you with a deep rumble in his chest that made you melt in his arms. You nodded and made eye contact with him which was hard as you felt like you were higher than a kite with your heat taking over your body. Hizashi pulled back and stared down at you. You whined and reached up for him and he pulled you up to sit in his lap. You pressed your face into his neck to take in his scent as he was emitting to try and cover yours so the two of you wouldn’t get unwanted visitors busting the door down. He then kissed you gently and slid his hand under the hem of your shorts. You straddled his lap and leaned against him. You took deep breaths and nuzzled the crook of his neck to find some comfort. Hizashi rubbed your back soothingly and gripped your butt as well. You whimpered and shifted a bit in his lap to give yourself some friction on his thigh. He noticed this and pushed you back down on your back. He kissed you again and left a trail of kisses down your body until he stopped right above your private area. You looked at him in annoyance as he had stopped. He looked back at you and spoke.

“Do you really want this? You want to have my litter?” He asked you and you nodded in agreement. He proceeded to move his head in between your thighs and suck the slick from your entrance. This made you feel good. He then activated his quirk on your entrance and it made you see stars. You let out a moan, arched your back and released on his face. He licked up the mess that you had made and looked up at you as you came down from your orgasm. You looked at him while you regained your breath. He sat up between your legs and kissed the inside of one of your thighs. He undid the belt on his pants and unzipped his leather trousers and pulled them off and tossed them in the same direction of his shirt. You blushed harder and looked back at him at the various tattoos that covered his torso and other parts of his body. You followed the snake that roped around his torso and thigh before it disappeared to the other side of his body. You also saw the various birds and feathers on his body, along with a dragon that roped around his right arm. You also noticed a small orca tattoo on his hand which signified the gang he belonged to. You watched him support himself above you by propping his hands on the pillows above you. His hair fell around his face when he looked down at you. He kissed you deeply to keep you distracted as he slid his pierced cock into you. He stopped right before his knot would go in. He didn’t want to tear your hole so he proceeded to press slightly with his knot against your entrance which made you cry out with pleasure. You panted with the feeling that the piercings made inside of you. His knot pressed against your entrance and threatened to rip you in half. You mewled in need and he pressed the knot into you. You moaned out again as you felt the knot pop into your wet hole. He stayed still for a bit until you whined for him to move inside of you and fill you with his seed. He began to thrust slowly and work up to a steady rhythm. He attached his mouth to your neck and hummed as he left another hickey on the sensitive flesh. You moved your hips with him and felt the tightness in your stomach build up and soon pop as you both reach your climax. He released and tried to pull out but he was stuck as his knot was still swollen inside of you. You blushed and looked down at him.

“Don’t stop.” You panted out. He nodded and took a drink of water before going back to thrusting inside of you until the both of you were spent. He then pulled out of you and cleaned the both of you up. He kissed your cheek and laid down next to you, tired. He brushed his thumb on your cheek and made you look at him. He pulled you close to him and kissed your forehead.

“You did amazing baby girl. I love you so much. Rest now. I’ll keep you safe.” He spoke into your hair before kissing your head and held you close as you both drifted off into sleep.

The next morning you woke up to find him gone but there was a sweet little note next to you. It read:

Morning Baby girl,

I’m sorry to not be there when you wake up but I have an early shift at the radio station. I’ll bring home your favorite dinner and we can cuddle tonight.

Love you,

Hizashi.

You finished reading the note and set it back on the pillow. You stood up gingerly as you were still sore from yesterday. You smiled and gently stood up to walk to the bathroom when you came out, you decided to change into something cute yet comfortable. You flopped onto the couch and turned on the tv as the news came up. Hizashi always kept the news on as he needed to keep up with the going ons of the fragile hero society. The world was in a near state of chaos with all the different gangs of the Yakuza going to war with each other almost on a daily basis. You were watching the tv until a new report broke in. One of the tv reporters spoke:

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumors of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire country of Japan at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavor to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villains who have still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the cities, please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

One thing we know for sure: we can no longer rely on Heroes to protect us. The streets of our once-great city are no longer safe, we are no longer safe.

You stared at the screen with wide eyes as you saw the images of a giant duel that had broken out between the Yakuza, the League of Villains, and the vigilantes that were once heroes. You scanned the crowd of people for the blonde hair of your boyfriend and you got nervous as you didn’t see him. Your phone rang and you looked at the caller i.d. and your heart raced as it was Hizashi. You quickly answered.

“What’s going on!? I saw what happened on the news. Where are you? Are you ok?” You frantically spoke into the phone.

“I’m fine. I need you to pack a bag. It’s not safe for you there anymore. We’re moving into the HQ tonight. The boss said that we can have a couple people from the outside move in when things got bad. I’ll be there in a bit to pick you up.” He told you. You nodded and ran into your room and pulled out your suitcase. You hurriedly packed your essentials and some of your comfort items that you would need for a nest when you got to the headquarters. You heard your front door unlock and open. You reminded yourself that you gave Hizashi a key to the apartment when he moved in with you. He called out for you and you peeked out from your bedroom. You relaxed when you saw your mate and you ran out to hug him as you were scared. You looked up and saw that he was hurt.

“Hizashi! You’re bleeding.” You pointed out. He shrugged it aside.

“It’s just a scratch.” He told you. You frowned and wiped some of the blood that had come from his forehead. You showed him and he shrugged it off.

“You can clean me up when we get to the safehouse.” He told you. He knelt down and looked you in the eyes.

“I’m here, baby girl. It’s gonna be ok. Did you pack a bag?” He asked you. You nodded your head and he rubbed your back. He held your hand and led out of the apartment and into the street where there was a group of panicked people rushing to leave the city. You whimpered in fear as you clung to the arm of your mate. Hizashi noticed this and pulled you into the alleyway

“Hey, what’s wrong? You’re emitting your stressed scent.” He spoke.

“I’m scared.” You managed to say. He nodded and pulled you close so he could hold you.

“We can wait here for transportation. It’s ok. There’s a lot of people trying to get home or leave the city. I just need to tell the others the change in plans.” He told you and pulled you deeper into the dark alleyway. He had you sit on your suitcase as the two of you might have to wait a bit. You kicked your feet and looked at the ground as you held your stuffed animal as Hizashi pulled his phone out and called his friend.

“Where are you? You were supposed to be here a few minutes ago.” You heard a tired and annoyed voice sound from the other side of the line. You thought it was Aizawa from the café.

“I had to pick up Y/N, remember?” Hizashi responded.

“Right. Your little omega mate. Where are the two of you?”

“We’re in an alleyway a few blocks south of the original meet up place. Y/N got stressed with the crowd of people panicking. She was emitting her stressed scent and I didn’t want some random alpha to snatch her up and cause a scene.” Hizashi explained as he petted your head. You let out a happy noise and nuzzled into his hand.

“Any other landmarks that can help with your location?”

“There’s a motel and a sketchy Italian restaurant.” Hizashi spoke as someone came down the alleyway.

“What’s that sweet scent I’m smelling!?” A stranger called out from the entrance of the alleyway. Hizashi hung up and stepped in front of you. He emitted his citrusy scent to cover up yours.

“It’s nothing. Probably coming from the motel next to us.” Hizashi told the stranger calmly. You whimpered and squeezed your stuffed animal closer to your body. The stranger grinned evilly and stepped closer. Hizashi blocked his path and sight of you. The stranger frowned.

“You’re her mate? Aren’t you one of those members of the Yakuza that have caused this world to go into chaos? She deserves better than some mafia scum like you.” The stranger told him and he frowned. You knew what was gonna happen so you covered your ears and shut your eyes tightly. Hizashi stood ready to fight this person to keep you safe. He stared down the stranger and spoke again.

“You’re right. I am a member of the Yakuza. But I’m not a lowlife scumbag hunting down some innocent just because their scent is emitting. Not every scent of a person that goes through a heat is their heat scent either. Y/N is stressed. She emits a scent when that happens. That is normal. Now, I suggest you leave before things get worse.” He explained to the stranger as he rolled up his sleeves and pulled out a small knife that he always kept on him whenever he was out.

He would do anything to keep you safe. Even if it meant he had to kill this person.

The stranger saw the knife and immediately left the alleyway. Hizashi put the knife away and walked over to you. He put a hand on your trembling frame.

“Baby girl, you’re safe now. That bad guy is gone now. You can open your pretty eyes for me.” He coaxed you. You opened your eyes and he smiled.

“There you are, princess.” He told you and kissed your forehead as a smoky purple portal opened behind the two of you. Two familiar faces came through the portal. You recognized them as Aizawa and Kurogiri from the café that you met Hizashi at for the first time. You got off your suitcase but didn’t wander far and held onto Hizashi’s arm. You watched the men in front of you closely as they talked with Hizashi about the events that led up to them meeting in the alleyway. The man that was talking to Hizashi over the phone was Aizawa. Your eyes wandered to the man with purple smoke that hid his natural features and you recognized him as well. You gripped your boyfriend’s shirt and pressed your face into his back and nuzzled a bit. Hizashi noticed and turned to face you. He had a look of concern on his face as he knew that you had been through a lot today. He knelt down to your level and pressed his forehead to yours.

“Shhh. Its ok, baby girl. Just a few more minutes and we will be safe. You can nest all you’d like when we’re in my room at headquarters, ok?” he told you. You made eye contact with him and saw the intense look of concern in his eyes. Your gaze wandered to the two men who were looking around and shifting nervously.

“Hizashi, we need to leave.” Aizawa told his friend.

“Just a moment, Shouta.” Hizashi told him in a firm tone.

“Now, Hizashi.” Aizawa responded with the same firm tone as the sound of a panicked mob came from the main street. You clung to your mate tighter before Hizashi scooped you up and pulled your suitcase into the open portal. You hid your face and closed your eyes. He held you tighter to his chest and walked through the portal with a determined look on his face. Once the two of you were on the other side, you looked up to take in your new surroundings. Hizashi and the others stopped in front of a large iron gate you pulled away from Hizashi and looked at the design work in the metal. There was a long iron fence that towered over the four of you. At the top in the center was a crest of the clan. You looked to either side of the fence and saw that it was attached to a very tall brick wall. Aizawa walked up to a speaker and spoke into it. The gate was unlocked and the four of you walked through the gate. You pressed into Hizashi and he rubbed your back.

“Almost there, princess. Just a little longer.” He whispered into your hair as the three of you walked up the long path and into the mansion that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. When your small group arrived at the very large doors, you looked up at them in amazement. The doors opened and you all stepped through. A couple of larger guards made sure that the four of you weren’t imposters. One of them asked about you and Hizashi quickly told them who you were before walking to his room. The man he had called Shouta stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

“You still need to meet with the Boss, Hizashi. I’m sure he will be fine with meeting Y/N. At least go get cleaned up.” He told him

“Fine. But I want Y/N safe. She’s been through enough today.” He said as he shoved his friend’s hand off his shoulder and kept walking to the barracks of the place.

You clung to him and tightened your grip around his neck. He arrived at his door and opened it. He went inside with you still attached to him. He closed the door behind him. He took his backpack off and set it next to your suitcase. He then knelt down while supporting you and unzipped your suitcase. He pulled your soft comfort blanket that he would find you swaddled in while you took naps back in the apartment. He moved to the bed and sat on the bed with his back to the wall and wrapped the blanket around you and rubbed your back. You hummed and pulled away to look up at him.

“There you are, baby girl.” He said in a soothing tone that usually grounded you when you were stressed. You cooed and looked around the room.

“Is this your room?” You asked him as he walked into his personal bathroom to take care of the cuts and scrapes that he had taken during the fight that occurred earlier in the day. He looked back out of the bathroom to see you looking at the different things in his room. You always looked cute to him when you were exploring something new. You slid off the bed with the blanket wrapped around you. You walked around the room, looked at the record player, and his assortment of records. You were reading the titles as he came out of the bathroom to put on a fresh shirt from his closet before looking over to you and smiling softly.

“We can play some later. We need to go meet the boss.” He told you and you huffed as you wanted to make a nest. He looked at you with an ‘I’m sorry.’ look in his eyes, you set your blanket down on the bed, walked over to him, and pressed your head into his chest. You tensed up when there was a knock on the door. Hizashi pulled away and went to answer the door.

“Who is it?” He asked.

“Yamada, you’ve been summoned by the Boss. He wants you to come to the dining hall with your mate. He’s a bit upset that you didn’t come when you first arrived.” Someone said from the other side of the door. Hizashi groaned.

“Tell him we will be there in a few minutes.” He responded and the person left. Hizashi turned to you and walked back over.

“Are you gonna be able to come with me to meet the Boss?” He asked you. You nodded and he held your hand as the both of you went to the door. You paused to whimper and reach up for him to pick you up. He picked you up and held you for a moment.

“I’ll cuddle with you for as long as you want after we talk to the Boss. But I need to keep an image up around the others. Don’t want them to think I’ve gone soft just because I have a mate.” He told you and you huffed and pressed your face into his neck. He chuckled and set you back down hesitantly. Hizashi then opened the door and led you downstairs and to the dinner hall. The two of you walked past many doors that belonged to different people. You read the names as the two of you walked past and noticed a couple familiar names before the two of you stopped at a larger door. You were nervous and clung to his arm. He looked down to you and knelt down to your level again.

“Princess. You’ll be fine. They might seem intimidating but they’re actually pretty nice.” He reassured you. You nodded and rubbed your arms to self soothe as you were still nervous. You had read about how some people of the Yakuza were big and scary. You held onto his hand and stared at the big scary door. Hizashi allowed you to hold onto his hand and he opened the door.

Inside the room was a table surrounded by various Pro Heroes. You looked around the room and recognized each one of them. Going in a circle, you recognized Aizawa and Kurogiri from before, Best Jeanist, All Might, Endeavor, Hawks, Snipe, Cementoss, Fatgum, Ectoplasm, and at the head was Gang Orca. You looked over at to another part of the room and saw a few of the ladies at the bar and behind the bar. You saw a few kids that looked like students as well sitting in a lounge corner playing a game of cards. Some of the ladies that you saw you recognized as Mirko, Midnight, Mt. Lady, Thirteen, Ryuko, Recovery Girl, and Lunch Rush. The students you remember from a long time ago during one of the UA Sport’s festival. You saw Deku, Dynamite, Shoto, and the rest of the class there. You gasped and slipped behind Hizashi as you were scared from all the new people. Endeavor chuckled and looked at you.

“You have quite the shy omega there, Mic. Wanna share?” He suggested. Hizashi glared at him and growled. Gang Orca silenced Endeavor and had him leave the room. He then returned his focus to Hizashi.

“Why did you not come when you first arrived with Eraserhead and Kurogiri?” He asked. Hizashi tensed up a bit and spoke.

“I wanted to get my mate settled. I am sorry I didn’t come when first summoned.” He responded. Gang Orca tilted his head in agreement and let the matter pass.

“Can we meet your mate?” Gang Orca spoke. You peeked out from behind Hizashi and looked at the boss.

“If she’s ok with meeting all of you.” Hizashi told him and coaxed you out from behind him. You clung to him like a scared child hiding behind their mother. Gang Orca and the other members that were sitting around the table were patient as you eventually approached the table with Hizashi right behind you. You looked up at the Orca hybrid and stared at him with amazement.

“I’m Y/N. What’s yours?” You asked him.

“Sakamata Kugo.” He spoke and looked down at your tiny frame. You smiled and pressed into Hizashi. He looked down at you and smiled. Gang Orca then dismissed the both of you and Hizashi picked you up and carried you swiftly out of the dining hall and back to his room to let you relax and get used to your surroundings. He set you on the bed which you spread out on your fluffy blanket that you managed to bring from your apartment. You let out a squeak of happiness and purred into the blanket as you sunk into it. You relaxed as your boyfriend laid out next to you and wrapped his arms around you. He kissed you on the head and you pressed into his chest to take in his scent to calm you down from all that had happened today.

“Hizashi? What are going to do now? Will we ever be able to go back to the apartment?” You asked worriedly.

“I don’t know, princess. Not with the city getting divided up and all the chaos ensuing in the streets.” He told you. You remembered about his cuts and scrapes he had and you looked to him you sat up and checked his head to see his bandages that he had already applied. You huffed and nudged him. He looked at you and asked what was wrong.

“You said that I could help you with your cuts and scrapes.” You told him.

“I only did the one on my head. I have a few others on my chest and arms you can take care of.” He told you with a smile.

You beamed with happiness that you could help your alpha. You ran into the bathroom, retrived the first aid kit that was left on the counter, and proceeded to carry it back to the bed. Hizashi was already sitting on the bed with his shirt off for you to examine him better. You climbed onto the bed next to him and wrapped up the minor cuts on his arms and the slice he had on his chest. Your face flushed a bright red as you wrapped the gauze around his chest. After you were finished putting the first aid materials away, Hizashi pulled you into his lap and let you lean into his chest.

“Do I get a reward for being a good patient?” He teased.

“Well… You did make me wait to take care of you.” You told him.

“I know I did. I still let you patch me up.” He responded.

“Thank you for letting me do that.” You told him and he kissed you deeply as he pressed you against the blankets.

“I know you’re still in heat, princess. Let me help you.” He told you. You blushed hard and looked to the door.

“You want me to lock the door?” He asked. You nodded, he got up and secured the door. He wanted you safe from anyone that would dare come in and try to take you from him. You waited for him to come back to the bed.

“Want nest.” You told him. He looked at you and nodded. He picked you up and placed you on a carpet on the floor. You looked up to watch him strip the bed. You then stared at the blankets on the floor and you crawled over to them. You burrowed into them and relaxed as you were now surrounded by comforting things. Hizashi then looked around for you and got a little worried.

“Y/N? Where did you go, princess?” He called out. You giggled and peeked out of your hiding spot in the blankets. He found you and picked you up and set you on the bed.

“There you are.” He said and peeked into the blankets.

“I would let you nest in my closet but there’s not a lot of room. You’re going to have to nest on my bed, baby girl.” He told you. You huffed and nodded.

“What about in the corner next to the sliding doors?” You asked and nodded to the corner that had a chair in it.

“That can work too. You can use one of my spare sheets for a tent.” He suggested. You nodded and dragged his blankets to the corner. You looked back at him with a silent request for him to move the chair out of the corner. He walked over and pulled the chair out of the corner and let you nest. He sat down in the chair and watched you make your nest. You laid out the huge fluffy blanket on the floor to line the nest before you walked over to the bed and pulled the large pillows off the bed and made a circle nest that was wedged into the corner. You put pillows against the wall to pad yourself before building a wall out of the couch cushions. Hizashi had a small table with four chairs around it and you pulled two of them to the corner to hold the pillows up so they wouldn’t fall over. You made a kind of pathway so the both of you could get in and out of the nest easily. You built up the walls of your nest so you felt safer. Hizashi went to his linen closet and pulled out the spare pillows and blankets. There was a knock at the door and Hizashi set the spare sheets on the bed before walking to the door and answering it. Someone had left the key to the giant linen closet for them to use.

“Princess, someone left us the key to the giant closet downstairs. What do you need for the nest?” He asked. You perked up and looked at him from the back of the room.

“Um… More pillows and blankets. We can use the sheet from your closet for the tent. Unless you can find a blackout sheet then that would be better.” You requested. He nodded and left the room while closing the door behind him. You proceeded to nest more and add the blankets and sheets to the wall of your nest before Hizashi came back with several pillows. You looked up at him and reached out for the bedding materials to add them to your nest. He gave you the blankets and you let out a happy noise. He held back a large black sheet to hang up when you were done. He watched you rearrange the blankets and pillows until you sat in the middle and looked up at him and smiled.

“Ready for the tent now.” You told him.

“You need to get out for a moment, princess.” He told you and you huffed. You grabbed your fluffy blanket, wrapped it around yourself, and left the nest. You stood outside the nest and watched your mate attach the sheet to the ceiling and secure it with some thumbtacks that he had found. Once the sheet was set up, he stepped out of the nest to let you back in and to situate the sheet how you wanted. Once you got the sheet set up so you felt safe but still had access to peek out when you wanted to. You finished getting settled and poked your head out to look at Hizashi. He chuckled and watched you from the chair he was sitting in.

“You may come in now.” You told him and disappeared into your nest. Hizashi slid down from his seat and crawled into the nest with you. He looked around and checked out your tent.

“This is nice.” He told you and saw your cubby holes that you had built into the nest and were still working on. You had found a wall plug in and had set up your phone on the charger. You also managed to grab your set of fairy lights and add them into the nest for a soothing effect. Hizashi looked up at the lights and chuckled.

“What all did you manage to pack in your suitcase?” He asked you as he looked over at you.

“Enough.” You told him. He sat up in your nest and leaned against the wall. You looked at him and tilted your head cutely.

“Cuddles?” You asked. He nodded which made you squeal in delight and crawl over to him and climb into his lap. You laid on his chest and let out a sigh of relief as he pulled a blanket over the two of you. You let out a happy hum and nuzzled his chest. You traced the scales of his snake tattoo and counted as you traced them. He held you close and stroked your hair to help you relax and eventually fall asleep. He let you sleep on him and he eventually fell asleep as well. A few hours later you woke up and looked up at him.

“Hi, baby girl. Did you sleep ok?” He asked. You cooed and nodded. You nuzzled his hand. He cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead. You laid back on his chest with your head tucked into the crook of his neck. You looked up when his phone buzzed. Hizashi checked his phone and rubbed your back.

“We’re being summoned to dinner.” He told you.

“Do we have to?” You asked as you were cozy where you were.

“Yes, we do, princess. It’s required when we’re at the safehouse.” He told you.

“Do I have to come?” You asked.

“Only if you want to. They understand that you’re pretty tired. You’re also still in heat. I would feel better if you stayed here instead of taking the risk of having your scent leak out to the others. Most of them are Alphas. As you saw earlier, Endeavor is someone who is more likely bang as many omegas as he can rather than have one mate all to himself.” Hizashi explained. He wanted to keep you safe from the other Alpha.

“I understand. What’s for dinner?” You asked.

“Whatever you want. Lunch Rush can make anything you want.” He told you.

“Mac and cheese with chicken nuggets.” You requested. He smiled and kissed your head.

“Ok. I’ll be right back.” He told you, shifted you off of him and he crawled out of the nest. You laid on your side and wrapped up in your blanket and waited for him to return. Hizashi walked down to the dinner hall and entered. The others looked up when he came in. “Y/N resting?” Aizawa asked him. Hizashi nodded. The blonde looked over to Endeavor before going over to Lunch Rush and putting in the order for your mac and cheese and chicken nuggets. He also ordered some fried chicken for himself. While he waited, Endeavor got up and walked to the door. Hizashi got anxious and wanted to get back to you before Endeavor did. Aizawa got up and followed Endeavor out of the room. Lunch Rush gave Hizashi his order.

“I’m sorry that I can’t stay. Y/N needs me tonight. I’ll be here in the morning for breakfast, Kugo.” He told the boss. Gang Orca nodded in understanding and Hizashi left the room quickly so he could get back to you. He saw Endeavor go up the stairs. This pissed him off. He knew for a fact that Endeavor’s room was on the bottom floor. Hizashi quickened his pace and ran upstairs after the other former hero. Hizashi set the food down and stopped him.

“Don’t you even think about going after her. She’s mine, you scumbag. I know that times are rough right now but you don’t need to go around stealing other people’s mates.” Hizashi spoke in a firm tone and didn’t raise his voice much. Endeavor turned to face him with a smug grin plastered on his face that Hizashi wanted to wipe off with a right hook to his face.

“Yes, but you left your Omega alone. That’s a bad thing to do.” He said with a sneer as he turned to his door. Hizashi set the food down and approached the man as he was ready to fight the tall and muscular man so he could keep you as his own. “Back off.” The blonde spoke in a tone that was almost growling. Endeavor had a smug look on his face as he wasn’t going to back off. Aizawa, Kurogiri, All Might, and Gang Orca all came up the stairs. Gang Orca stepped forward.

“Enji, back off. Y/N is Hizashi’s mate. She is not yours for the taking just because Present Mic left the room to get food for himself and his mate. That is perfectly normal.” The Orca hybrid spoke. The fiery redhead pouted and walked back to his room. Aizawa walked up to his friend and asked if he was ok. Hizashi nodded and took a couple deep breaths and made a mental note to talk with Endeavor later before walking back to pick the food back up and re-enter the room. He closed and locked the door behind him before he walked to the far end of the room to the nest. He bent over to peek into the nest to see if you were still there and you were. You were sitting up while playing a game on your phone. You looked up from your screen and saw Hizashi. You squealed and set your device aside and laid down.

“I got your food, baby girl.” He told you as he got down on his stomach to look at you. You reached out for the food and he slid it to you.

“May I come in?” He asked. You nodded and moved out of the way so he could slide into the nest. He pulled his food in the nest, closed the door behind him, and leaned against the wall. He let out a stressed sigh and emitted a sour lemon scent which made your nose wrinkle.

“Hizashi, what’s wrong?” You asked.

“Endeavor tried to take you from me and I hate that he does that even though I just left to get us food.” He told you while he rubbed his temples. You climbed into his lap cuddled him and emitted your calming scent that would usually be meant for your pups. He hummed and pressed his face into your neck so he could take your scent in. You nuzzled his neck and felt him relax as he held you to his chest and gripped your waist. You squeaked and wiggled your hips.

“Baby girl, I want to claim you as my own. Make you mine forever. I don’t want the threat of someone wanting to take you from me. It took so long for me to find someone like you that was accepting of me being in the Yakuza. I love you, Y/N. I want to make you mine. I don’t want Endeavor or any other Alpha to even get the idea of taking you from me. Please, let me claim you.” Hizashi requested of you. You pulled back and looked at him. Hizashi never had a more serious look on his face as he was desperate to make you his own. Endeavor had really threatened him earlier and he was scared to lose you. He pressed his face into your neck as he was awaiting your answer. “You know that I’m your mate. I thought you claimed me yesterday in the apartment?” You asked.

“I did, but not as intensely as I want to right now.” He told you as he softly bit on your neck. You let out a little moan and he sucked a little harder. You were grinding hips against his thighs and moaned a little louder. You pushed away from him a bit to look at him. He looked up at you with a hungry and lustful look in his eyes.

“I would be happy to be your mate forever.” You told him. He responded by kissing you deeply, moving the food up to the seat of one of the chairs, and laying you down on the floor of the nest. He pulled away for air before going down on your neck to suck in a bonding mark into the flesh of your neck. You cried out in pleasure as he used his quirk to enhance the feeling of his mark being embedded into your skin. He pulled back and looked at the mark.

“You’re mine now. Mine forever and always.” He told you while keeping eye contact with you. You let out a moan as he pulled your clothes off and left more quirk-enhanced bites on your body. He was determined to make it known that you were his and that no other Alphas would take you from him. He moved your pants off and kissed your soft tummy before kissing your thighs.

“Are you ready, princess?” He asked as he hovered over the lower part of your torso, ready to eat you out before stuffing your womb full of his litter. You looked down to see his lust filled look gazing back at you. You felt your body heat up and your slick leak out from your entrance. You bucked your hips up against him as you were eager to mate with him. He smiled and went down on your slick hole and began to eat you out. He used his skilled tongue and mouth skills to suck the slick off of your wet hole as your heat raged through your body. You released a string of mewls and moans that drove your Alpha crazy as he sucked more and used his quirk on your oversensitive folds. The usage of his quirk caused you to go over the edge and release on his face. He cleaned you up using his tongue before sitting up, pulling your legs wide open, bending them so your knees almost touched your chest, and positioning himself between your legs as he was ready to fuck you into next week. He pulled his pants down and lined up his hard and swollen member to your wet entrance. He pressed the head into your opening and you let out a small moan. He smirked and pushed more into you until his full length was inside of you including his knot. You panted as he filled and stretched you perfectly. He waited a couple of moments before thrusting into you at a steady pace. He looked up at you as you had your head thrown back as he pounded into you. He soon reached his first climax and released into you. The both of you took a moment to regain your breath before Hizashi began to thrust again and again into you as he was full of determination to breed you until you were pregnant. He pulled out and laid next to you as he was spent. He kissed your temple and had you go to the bathroom as he waited for you. You crawled out slowly and waddled a bit as you walked to the bathroom to get cleaned up. You came back and slid back into the nest. He gave you your food before he sat up and ate his own food. You crawled into his lap and ate your chicken nuggets happily. He stroked your hair and relaxed.

“I love you, Hizashi.” You cooed.

“I love you too, Princess.” He responded. You finished your food and dozed off in his lap. Hizashi had one more thing to do before he could be sure that you would be safe. He picked up his phone and messaged Endeavor.

‘Hi! I was wondering if you’d like to do the nightly patrol with me tonight.’

‘Sure. This is a bit odd as you prefer to do patrol with Eraserhead or Kurogiri. Why do you want to patrol with me?’

‘Oh, just changing things up in case we were being watched. Shaking up the patterns.’

‘Fine. Our shift starts at midnight. Meet at the gate.’ Endeavor responded. Hizashi had a plan set out in his mind to make sure his mate would be safe no matter what. Soon midnight came and Hizashi had left the nest and your sleeping form to get changed into his modified hero suit. He sheathed his knives that he used when he went on patrol and went to the door to put his shoes on. He then left the building to walk to the front gate and meet Endeavor. He greeted Hizashi and they began to patrol along the wall that surrounded the perimeter of the estate. The place was huge so the time to patrol the place took a long time. Most of the estate was covered by woods and forest so there would be a higher chance of people breaking in even though there were security cameras all around the wall of the estate. Hizashi would have to wait until the two of them reached a blind spot in the cameras before he would make a move. In the security room, Kurogiri was observing the cameras and making sure the footage would be ‘Mysteriously compromised’ of Endeavor’s disappearance. Endeavor was the one thing keeping you from being safe. He was a threat to Hizashi and he had to be removed so that you could be safe. Soon the both of the heroes came to a stopping point to rest which was conveniently in a camera’s blind spot. Hizashi stepped away for a moment with the excuse that ‘he was checking deeper into the woods for any intruders’ which brought Endeavor’s guard down and he began to scroll through his phone. Hizashi pulled out a knife and slowly stepped out of the shadows. A twig snapped under Hizashi’s heavy boot which made the other man look up from his phone and stare at the blonde with wide eyes that were full of fear.

“Yamada, what are you doing?” The scared man asked as his eyes darted to the open blade in Hizashi’s hand. The blonde remained silent and walked forward to the man. He moved the blade of the knife under his chin and made the other man look up at him.

“I’m sure you know why I brought you out here unless you really are that dumb.” He spoke. Endeavor began to panic as he stared down his attacker.

“I thought we were going to do patrol around the wall then go back to the mansion.” He said in a confused tone. Hizashi stepped back and laughed. Endeavor looked at the crazed man before him.

“You really aren’t that smart are you, Enji?” He said as he turned his gaze back to the other Alpha. He walked back over and pressed the blade to Endeavor’s neck.

“Since you can’t seem to clue in on a situation, I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, ya dig, listener?” He spoke using his old phrase from his pro hero days before he fully committed to the Yakuza. The scent of fear was emitting strongly from Endeavor as he watched Hizashi show his true colors.

“Your confrontation to threaten me by taking my mate just because I left them for a few moments to get us food was a wrong move on your part, Enji. Now you’re going to pay for what you did and I’ll make sure you never threaten to steal another Alpha’s mate again.” Hizashi told him and knocked the man out with some chloroform in a small cloth that Hizashi had pressed to his mouth and nose while Hizashi told him what was going to happen. He dragged Endeavor’s body into the middle of the woods to a small wooden cabin that he had built out there when he first was recruited into Gang Orca’s family. He would go out there to spend his ruts when he was younger. He hadn’t been to his cabin in a few years since he started the radio talk show. He didn’t like the bugs that were around the place but the seclusion was convenient for him this time as he was going to remove Endeavor from the scene to ensure your safety. Hizashi unlocked the door and dragged Endeavor’s unconscious body into the cabin before locking the door behind him. He set Endeavor’s body up in a chair and made sure to tie him up before he sat down to wait for him to wake up. He sat down on the old bed that he would sleep on and texted Kurogiri about the update and that he could sabotage the footage of him and Endeavor walking along the wall.

About an hour passed before Endeavor woke up. Hizashi noticed him stirring and waited for him to come to full consciousness.

“Glad you’re finally awake, Enji. Took you long enough.” Hizashi told him.

“Where are we? Why did you bring me here? What did you mean by making me pay for threatening you?” The enraged man asked.

“All you need to know now is that you messed up big time. I’m going to make you pay for threatening to take my love from me.” Hizashi spoke as he stood up and walked over to Endeavor. He held the same knife he had earlier spinning around in his fingers. The blonde held the knife still and ran the handle up Endeavor’s chest.

“No wonder the ladies go crazy over you. You’re built like a tank.” He noted and then used the blade to slice open his modified suit. The blade nicked his skin a bit and the blonde smirked. He teased other parts of Endeavor’s bare chest with the blade of his knife and pressed the cold metal into his skin a bit until he bled.

“You’re gonna die, Enji. You have stolen enough Omegas from everyone It’s time you were removed. Threatening me was the last straw. Kugo gave me permission to take the means necessary to make sure you’re disposed of.” Hizashi told the clearly frightened man.

“I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I will change.” Endeavor tried to plead. Hizashi chuckled and looked back at him.

“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it. Your life ends tonight.” He said and made another small cut on his chest. Endeavor hissed and tried to move away.

“Now I can make this look like an accident or make it look like you were murdered. It’s how you behave is how it’s gonna look. So, I suggest that you better behave.” Hizashi warned. Endeavor didn’t believe him and tried to activate his flames. For some reason he couldn’t. Hizashi looked across the room to his friend and accomplice, Shouta Aizawa. He was using his quirk to cancel out Endeavor’s flames. Hizashi came closer to Endeavor and ran the blade across his cheek which made more blood leak out. The blonde hummed and made another cut but this time ran the blade across his collarbone. Endeavor hissed again in pain and the former hero pressed the blade to his neck.

“Do you want your throat to be slit? It does seem fitting for someone like you to die by your throat being cut so no one can hear you scream out in pain. What do you think Shou?” He asked his friend who was still hiding in the shadows of the cabin. Endeavor had a terrified look imprinted on his face as Shouta gave his opinion that the man before them needed a few more stab wounds and cuts before he was killed.

“You’re right. Gotta make it look real. Like he actually struggled before he died.” Hizashi noted before proceeding to gag Endeavor’s mouth so his screams of pain wouldn’t be heard. He then drove the blade of his knife deep into Endeavor’s body. Blood splattered onto the blonde as Endeavor was stabbed.

“Making quite the mess there, Enji. I’m going to have to clean this up before I return to Y/N.” Hizashi said as the former hero lay in front of him bleeding out.

“And now for the finishing touch.” Hizashi said as he ran the blade deep into the hero’s neck and watched as the blood spilled from his neck and the life left his body. Hizashi stepped back and took a picture with his phone before He motioned to Shouta to help him untie the corpse and carry it outside where Kurogiri was standing waiting for them to come out. Kurogiri had already dug the grave for Endeavor. Hizashi and Shouta carried the body and placed it into the hole and began to bury Endeavor’s corpse. When all the dirt was replaced and his body was finally buried, Hizashi panted then smiled wide.

“Y/N is finally safe.” He said under his breath. Shouta looked up at his friend and asked what he had said.

“Y/N is finally safe and she won’t ever be threatened to be taken from me again.” He spoke. Shouta smiled.

“You should go get cleaned up and go back to her. Kurogiri and I got this covered.” He suggested. Hizashi nodded and Kurogiri opened a warp gate for him to go back to his room.

Hizashi snuck into his room to make sure not to disturb you. He slipped into his bathroom and stripped down to shower off the blood, sweat and dirt that had covered his body. He turned on the shower and stepped in to clean himself off. He finished and got changed into a pair of sweatpants and slid back into the nest with you. You woke up a little and looked at him.

“Hizashi? Where did you go? It’s the middle of the night.” You said quietly.

“I had a late-night task that the boss wanted me to do.” He told you. You took the information even though you were grumpy and tired and you desperately wanted cuddles.

“Next time tell me when you’re gonna leave in the middle of the night instead of just leaving, ok? Also, you smell good. Did you shower?” You asked.

“Yes. I got dirty and smelly on the job. So, I got cleaned up just for you princess.” He told you and kissed you.

“Go back to sleep, I’m here and I’m going to keep you safe.” He told you and pulled you close to him. You hummed and nuzzled into his bare chest as he pulled a blanket back over you and kissed your head. You were safe now. Safe and his. His and his alone.

The next morning you woke up and nuzzled your Alpha awake. He woke up and gazed down at you.

“Morning, baby girl.” He told you and pressed a kiss into your forehead.

“Hungry. Want pancakes please.” You requested.

“As you wish, princess.” He told you and left the nest to again go down to the dining hall and bring you the breakfast that you requested. Even though there were few people awake at this hour, the man seemed in a more relaxed state and approached Lunch Rush and gave him your order. All Might noticed his relaxed appearance and approached him.

“You seem more relaxed today. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” He asked the other man.

“Yes. Y/N is helping a bit with my rut.” Hizashi responded sheepishly. He had to keep his cover about Endeavor and what had taken place last night. His view glanced over to Gang Orca who had nodded at him in approval of what he had done the night before as Kurogiri had told him after he and Aizawa finished up burying the body. Hizashi relaxed for a second before All Might spoke again.

“Where is Endeavor? He usually doesn’t sleep in this late.” He noted. Hizashi’s eyes snapped open and looked at him. He looked over to his boss for some help as he hadn’t come up with a cover story.

“Toshinori, Enji decided to leave our ranks. He was kicked out and is to never be heard of again. For all we know he skipped town and is living on his private island that he still has from the days when we were all Pro Heroes. I suggest that you don’t go looking for him.” Gang Orca explained.

“I guess it’s better that way. He was a cause of tension for everyone.” All Might said. Hizashi relaxed and silently thanked Gang Orca before he left the dining hall to go back to you. He slid back into the nest and gave you your pancakes and eggs. You sat up and poked at your eggs before you ate them along with your pancakes. Hizashi smiled and drank his smoothie.

“What are we going to do today?” You asked him.

“I think we’re going to stay here at the house. We can watch movies though.” He said and set his empty cup on the seat of the chair. He pulled you into his lap and you cuddled into him. He kissed your hair and rubbed your back.

“How do you feel, princess? I wonder if you’re pregnant.” He wondered out loud. You looked at him and pulled away a bit.

“I don’t think I am… I’m still in heat too. I know you banged me pretty good last night but I want to ensure that I will be carrying your litter.” You told him. He nodded and kissed you deeply. He laid you down on the blanket and kissed your neck.

“If you’re not pregnant now you will be when we’re done.” He told you. You nodded and reached up to bite on his neck. It was a weak attempt but Hizashi found it cute.

“Did you want to mark me, princess?” He asked. You huffed and nodded. He looked at you as you were frowning. You looked adorable when you were frustrated.

“You’re adorable when you frown like that. Don’t worry, princess. I’ll let you mark me. I find it cute.” He told you as he rolled his neck to the side and sat up with you in his lap. You stared at the spot on his neck and reached up to bite the spot and growl cutely as you sunk your teeth in. He smiled and let you mark him. You pulled away and nuzzled the spot on his neck to leave your scent there.

“Good job, Princess. Now I’m yours.” He told you. You smiled and laid back down on the blanket. He kissed you deeply and pushed your shirt up and your short shorts down. He noticed your slick already pooling underneath you.

“You’re definitely still in heat, baby girl. Let’s get you nice and full of my litter~.” He said and slid his length into you and groaned as he felt your walls clench around him.

“Someone’s already needy, huh? Beg for it, princess.” He told you. You whined and shut your eyes closed as you just wanted the need for friction and release. You huffed and bucked your hips in need as you released more of your slick on his cock. He held your hips still so you couldn’t move.

“I’m not moving and neither are you. Not until you beg for me to knock you up.” He told you. You whimpered and opened your eyes.

“There’s those pretty eyes of yours. You know what you have to do to get me to thrust.” He encouraged you as he ran his fingers up and down your thighs. You gulped down a moan and looked up at him.

“Please, I want you to give me you litter. I need it please!” You cried out and he kissed you again before pulling you into a mating press. He began to thrust slowly in and out as he began to hit that one spot that would make you see stars each time that he thrusted against you with his piercings. You proceeded to let out the noises you had held in during the unbearable time that he had held still and teased you by pressing his knot into you and getting stuck in your tight hole. He kept thrusting at a slow pace to draw out your orgasm. You whimpered and bucked your hips again as you craved release. The sucking and popping sound of his knot sliding in and out of your wet hole. He groaned as he could feel your silken walls tightening around his length. He kissed your thighs as he thrusted deeper until he was penetrating your womb. He leaned forward to capture you in a kiss when he thrusted knot-deep into you and released. He cried out with his quirk activated and you covered your ears. He panted and looked down at you.

“Princess? What’s wrong?” He asked as a look of concern spread across his face as he registered your scared form and your hands over your ears.

“Y- you were a bit l-loud.” You told him quietly. He pulled your hands away from your ears and saw that there was some blood coming from your ears. Your ears were ringing from the loud noise. His eyes widened and he held you close.

“I’m so sorry. I never want to hurt you like that.” He told you as tears fell from his eyes and fell onto your shirt.

“Hizashi, I’ll be ok. I just need a couple days to heal up and I’ll be fine.” You told him with a smile. He shook his head.

“You’re going to need more than that. I have pain meds in the bathroom, some washcloths and some noise cancelling headphones you can wear.” He told you.

“Ok. I’ll wait here.” You responded. He kissed your head and went to the bathroom to retrieve the medical supplies needed to help you heal. He came back with a bottle of painkillers, the warm compress, and a pair of soft earmuffs to keep your ears covered until they were healed. Hizashi wiped the blood off of your skin with a wet washcloth. He then gave you some pain meds with plenty of fluids. He then put warm compresses on your ears and held them in place with the earmuffs. He pulled you into his lap and held you close. He rubbed circles on your back until you fell asleep on his chest. He laid down on the blanket and pulled a blanket over you. He watched you sleep for a bit before he let himself fall asleep as well... He could relax now as you were safe even though he caused your ears to bleed.

About two weeks into staying at the estate, the living situation had gotten better and Endeavor had been just about forgotten. But you were currently doubled over and puking into the toilet. Your ears had healed a few days ago, thanks to your boyfriend’s constant love and care. But you have developed morning sickness, seemed more tired than usual, and you had put on some weight. Hizashi had noticed these things too. The idea that you might be pregnant was on both of your minds. But you wanted to be checked out. Hizashi only trusted Recovery Girl to check you out so he carried you down to her office and set you on the table for you to be checked out. Recovery Girl came over and gave Hizashi the option of stepping out of the room and he refused. He wanted to support you in every situation that you encountered. Recovery Girl had you use the bathroom and pee into the little cup that she gave you. You came back a few minutes later with the cup and gave it to her. She shooed the two of you off so she could run the tests needed on the urine. Hizashi picked you back up and carried you out of the infirmary wing. You still felt yucky so he took you back to the room and let you rest in the nest. He held you in his lap while you slept and waited for a response from Recovery Girl. Soon a text appeared on his phone from Recovery Girl. It read:

‘I finished the tests and they all came out positive. Y/N is pregnant, congratulations. You might want to talk with Gang Orca about getting supplies for your little ones.’

Hizashi smiled and you woke up to look at him.

“What is it, Hizashi?” You asked him sleepily. You laid your head on his chest and he showed you the text from Recovery Girl. You read it and sat up.

“I guess it really did work, huh?” You told him.

“Yes. It did. I’ll talk to the Boss later about getting a pass to go into the city and buy you the things necessary for our babies. Recovery Girl can give you the checkups you need and will help you with the delivery. I’ll be here too throughout the whole thing. I love you, baby girl.” He told you and kissed your head.

“This reminds me of something. I have a small cabin out in the woods that I used to go spend my ruts at back in the day, how would you like to go see it?” He asked. You nodded excitedly and got up to get changed. He chuckled and watched you leave the nest and go to your dresser to pick out some clothes. Everything was falling into place for his plan for the two of you and your future babies. Once you were dressed, he got out of the nest and put his shoes on to take you down to the woods on the grounds in the estate. He carried you to the woods with the excuse of ‘that you were dizzy earlier’ and he didn’t want you to fall and hurt yourself. You agreed and nuzzled into his neck as he carried you into the woods. He stopped when he arrived at the cabin and you wiggled to be set down so you could explore.

“Don’t go too far, ok?” He warned you and you nodded. You proceeded to walk around the cabin and peek into the windows. Hizashi was calm knowing that Aizawa and Kurogiri helped him clean up Endeavor’s blood and change out some of the old blankets and pillows for some new ones. You saw them and wanted to make a nest with them immediately. Hizashi looked at you and you whined.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” He asked you.

“I need to nest. There’s soft things in there and I wanna make a safe place with them please!?” You asked him with an urgent tone in your voice. He caved in and let you inside the cabin to which you ran into the blankets and pillows and began to construct your new bed. He came into the cabin and let the door open along with a couple windows to air out the place as it seemed a little musty. You squealed and purred as you made a nest around the bed in the corner and you pulled a blanket onto the bed and curled up in it.

“I know you just got comfortable, princess, but I have a surprise for you and it’s outside.” He told you. You peeked your head out of your blanket and scrambled out of the blanket and went outside. Hizashi followed you and you were darting around trying to find the surprise. You came back to him and huffed.

“Where is it?” You whined.

“Over here, princess.” He told you and led you to the side of the cabin where a small flower patch was. In one part was a patch of your favorite flower growing. There were three other patches of flowers that were growing as well and you smiled. You walked over to the patch of flowers that caught your eye. You turned back and grinned back at your Alpha.

“How did you know that these were my favorite?” You asked him.

“You told me on one of our dates. I just happened to remember.” He told you. You walked back over to him and hugged him. You looked to the other patches of flowers and hummed.

“What are the other ones for?” You asked him.

“They’re ones that my friends like. Three of them anyways. The Sunflowers are mine. The daisies are for Shouta, the grape hyacinths are for Kurogiri and the roses are for Midnight.” He explained to you. You nodded and cuddled him.

“Thank you for the flowers, Hizashi.” You told him. He smiled and picked you up to carry you inside of the cabin. He set you in your nest to get settled. He went into the kitchen to boil some water to make tea for the both of you. You got settled in your nest and looked out the window to watch some birds in a tree. Hizashi watched the water boil and glanced over to you. You were happy. He was happy. You were safe here in the cabin. You were his and his alone. No one and nothing could change that. He was sure of it.

The end

#admin writes #bnha omegaverse #bnha present mic #bnharem collab #yandere #bnha mafia au #bnha yandere

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my-happy-little-bean · 3 years

Text

The Rainbow Manor

pairing: platonic DLAMP words: 5138 warnings: swearing, references to homophobia, toxic/homophobic parents, brief description of a small injury, blood, brief descriptions of panic/anxiety attacks, crying, angst

a/n - hello friends! hope everyone is doing well! i was lucky enough to be commissioned by the lovely @youronelesbianfriend to write this story (side note, their commissions are open too so...whatcha still doin here, go and do that!). i was overjoyed when i saw the prompt she gave me, and had such a good time writing it! (also inspired me to maybe formally advertise commissions? you can peek at my tumblr every now and then to see if i do, but if you also want one you can DM me!)

so without further ado, here is some content ✨

read on ao3!

—

The Rainbow Manor is a lot of things.

It’s a home for the biggest family that could exist. It’s a safe haven from the cold, stormy outdoors. It’s the kind of blanket made of the same velvet the night sky is made of; it’s quiet, it’s warm, and it’s filled with stars. All it takes is one step inside and you would find yourself filled with a sense of belonging, of hope.

You could run the furthest distance away from it all, and the Rainbow Manor would always open its doors to you.

Patton would know. He was the first one to try.

~*~

“Okay, so here’s what happened,” Roman Prince said, looking down at his clipboard as he weaved him and Patton through the halls. “I was going to show the new people around myself, but then I forgot the paperwork in your office — and then I realized, ‘hey, what better person to show them around than The Man himself!’; capital T, capital M!”

Patton half-heartedly smiled as he snuck a peek at Roman’s papers.

“How many are there?”

“Three, so it won’t be too bad. One of them’s Virgil — you remember Virgil, right?”

“Right.” Patton smiled fondly, remembering Roman’s birthday party last year. Him and Virgil had shown up covered in cake. He never really saw Virgil after that day, but clearly him and Roman stayed acquainted against all odds.

They turned a corner into the break room where three people sat around a table. Roman clapped his hands.

“Alrighty! Sorry for the wait.”

All three of them stood up. The one in the black and purple hoodie—the one Patton recognized as Virgil—rolled his eyes.

“Waiting is part of the contract with you, Princey.”

Roman faux-gasped. “Hey, that was one time! And if I didn’t take too long that day, we would have taken the wrong cake!”

“We did take the wrong cake, Roman. That’s why it exploded.”

“...Oh yeah.” Roman grinned. “Forgot about that.”

Virgil shook his head, but showed a hint of a smile. Patton took a step forward to extend his hand out to him.

“Nice to see you again, Virgil!” He then addressed the two behind him. “And if we’re talking cake, I guess you both can call me Patton-cake!”

The one wearing a black, short-sleeve button up frowned, adjusting their thin blue tie.

“I read on the website that your name is Patton Morgan.”

“It’s like patty-cake, but Patton-cake!”

“...Right.”

“Ignore my friend’s simply lively commentary.” The last person stepped forward. They wore a pale-yellow button up under a grey vest. “That’s Logan. Do not be astounded by how that pencil is both sharp and dull — he’s always like that.”

“And that’s Janus,” Logan seethed, crossing his arms. “They’re always like that.”

Patton chuckled. “Well it’s nice to meet you both. I’ll show you guys around?”

They all nodded, following Patton as he led them out the door. The icy awkwardness of first encounters fortunately thawed as conversation quickly blossomed. Patton learned that Logan was the new volunteer manager and was close friends with Janus, who was joining the growing team of counsellors. Virgil, on the other hand, was the newly-appointed social media and communications coordinator; a position Roman used to double as alongside being head of recreation and programming, until he overdid it with the website graphics and crashed the site for two days. Sometimes, change was necessary, Patton learned.

“So that’s pretty much the whole place!” Patton said brightly at the end of the tour, stopping outside his office. He handed them their job description packages. “I hope you all get situated soon! And if you ever need anything, you now know where my office is!” He motioned to the door with jazz-hands. “Here!”

“Thank you, Patton,” Logan hummed. He looked around idly. “I must say, I am rather impressed by how well-established and organized the facility is, especially for one that is fairly new.”

“Well call me corny, ‘cause all I can say is ‘aw shucks’!” Patton beamed. “You know, if you told me almost a year ago that I’d be standing here today, I think I’d be impressed too!” He nudged at Roman. “But I obviously didn’t do any of it alone. It’s the people that really make this place home — people like Roman, who’s been with me since the very beginning!”

“Oh, Patton! You make me sound like the hero of this place.” Roman pretended to flip his hair. “So thank you!”

“A humble hero,” Virgil retorted. Roman just stuck out his tongue at him.

“But in all seriousness, Patton’s downplaying his efforts to the floor!” Roman wrapped an arm around Patton’s waist and pulled him in close. He waved out in front of him. “He’s a true phoenix who rose from the ashes and built this place with his own two hands!” Roman then spun Patton away from him, a trail of giggles following suit. “Plus he does a bunch of other stuff too! He has, like, a gazillion side-gigs, he sometimes volunteers at an animal shelter…”

“It sounds like you may also be interested in a day off,” Janus piped up.

“It’s really not that much!” Patton awkwardly shuffled where he stood. “I...I like staying busy.”

Janus tilted their head at him. “Right.”

Patton shot them a quick smile before diving back into the end of their paperwork. Then the three of them, along with Roman, said their goodbyes and scattered to their respective offices.

Patton leaned against his office door with a wry smile. They all seemed like nice people, he thought. He was lucky to have them.

(Roman’s words from weeks ago echoed in his head; the same words that were said to him the night of his first breakdown, when they first called.

“You need all the help you can get, Pat.”)

And he needed all the help he could get.

~*~

A few days later, Patton found himself leaning against the front of his desk, outstretching his hand towards the teen in front of him.

“Jonah, your feelings are valid, no matter what they are.”

The words slid off Patton’s tongue almost effortlessly. Jonah sniffled.

“I know, Pat. And– and I’ve already made a lot of friends here that have told me that. It’s been so good for me here, but…” Jonah buried their face in their hands. “Every night before I go to sleep, I can’t stop thinking about what they told me before they kicked me out. It’s like I get tunnel vision. I can see the person I have grown to be on the other side, but all I’m doing is going backwards.”

Jonah looked up at Patton with teary eyes. “And I don’t wanna go back, Patton. I...I don’t want to go back.”

Patton felt a chill run through his spine. Quiet echoes buried themselves in the back of his mind.

“I understand that it’s difficult to feel like you’re moving forward when it feels like the most important people in your life are pushing you back. And it...it sucks. I’m so sorry.” Patton swallowed down the temptation to cave as he continued. “I...I think all we can do is remember that those important forces in your life aren’t what’s given to you, but are what’s found. And I feel like you’ve done a lot of searching — for now, try and let yourself be found.”

Jonah broke into a small smile. Before Patton knew it, the teen stumbled forward into an embrace, holding Patton tight and crying. Patton’s hands hovered in the air behind their back, unsure of what to do. Eventually, Patton came to his senses and hugged them back.

“I’m thankful I found this place,” Jonah mumbled into Patton’s chest. “It’s– it’s built on a lot of hope. I don’t think I could have found it anywhere else.”

Patton’s heart shattered.

‘I wish I could give you more.’ He squeezed Jonah tighter. ‘I’d give you all I had, and you’d never know.’

Jonah left a few minutes later, thanking Patton for giving them a space to be honest. All Patton could do was nod numbly. He knew Jonah was new and it was hard to be new here, but Patton was certain that they’d find their place. The kids who came here always did.

Patton walked around his desk to sit down. He took one look at his phone, frowned, then set it aside with a sigh. For a brief moment, Patton relished sitting in the precious silence that finally found his office.

Then, a knock on his door.

“Come in!” Patton said, straightening up and folding his hands neatly on his desk. The door cracked open and Logan’s head peeked in.

“Is this a good time, Patton?”

“Yeah, of course!”

Logan stepped inside and handed some papers to Patton.

“I filed through the volunteer applications and started arranging interviews in the coming weeks. I just wanted to run the dates by you before I start contacting people. Hopefully they suffice.”

“Wow! Thank you, Lo.” Patton took the papers, slowly sifting through them. “These look really good! I’ll have a look at them tonight.”

“Tonight?” Logan echoed. “Are you staying late again?”

“Oh! Yeah, I am.” Patton shrugged. “Just a bit of extra paperwork.”

“Well if you require any assistance tonight, I can stay around–”

“No, no! That won’t be necessary.” Patton waved his hand dismissively. “Go and enjoy your night, Lo.”

Logan’s stare seemed to bury itself through Patton, enough for Patton to look away.

“...Well, please do not hesitate to let me know if you need anything else.”

As Logan was leaving, Patton felt his phone buzz. He snuck a peek and paled.

‘Missed call(s): Mother (2) - 5:34 PM’

“Um, leave the door open, Lo!” Patton suddenly blurted out. Logan turned around and tilted his head. Patton flimsily added, “I– I think I’m going to try and get some air.”

Logan nodded, lifting his hand off the door handle before walking out. Patton took a deep breath and then stuffed his phone in his pocket before leaving as well.

—

Later that evening, Patton wandered into his office in a daze. He turned the lights on and inwardly groaned at the stacks of paper awaiting him.

He dragged his feet to his desk, only stopping to check his phone. The ‘missed call’ notification lingered, except now the number was ‘3’.

Patton felt his jaw tighten. He couldn’t run forever.

As he sat down, he noticed a small cup behind one stack of paper. He grabbed it. The smell of coffee swarmed his head. He smiled, noticing a small sticky note on its side.

“Keep up the great work. Your friend, Logan.”

~*~

“Okay everyone! Grab your brushes!”

Patton blinked. Somehow, his memory of the manor floors failed him, and he ended up in the recreation room. He felt eyes stare up at him, Roman’s included.

“Ah, Patton! Man of the hour! What brings you here?”

Patton sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “I, um, got lost! If you could believe it, heh.”

“ ‘Lost’ is just a way of saying ‘found, but with a few extra steps’!” Roman motioned to an empty seat. “How about you join us for a bit?”

Patton opened his mouth to protest, though felt cornered by all the expectant stares. He even spotted Jonah, who smiled and waved at him. Patton sighed. He had been wound up for days now; perhaps Roman’s theatrics was all he needed.

He finally nodded, going over to sit in front of the vacant canvas. Roman grinned at him with a warmth Patton let himself melt into.

“Alright! Let’s begin.” Roman cleared his throat. “I want you to pull on the colours of your heartstrings. Forget form, structure– even an outline. Your emotions know no bounds, after all! Just remember, your hand is not controlling the brush — it’s your heart.”

Patton felt the words wash over him. Roman, of course, was right; he didn’t even notice his hand moving as he painted. Though somehow, it didn’t feel as peaceful as Roman described it to be. Instead, it felt like something was being pulled out of Patton, as though a claw was scooping something out of his chest and spilling it onto the canvas.

Suddenly, his ringtone cut through Roman’s monologue. Patton jumped, dropping his brush. A line of paint dragged across the canvas as it fell. All eyes were on him again.

“Um, excuse me! I– I’m just going to take this.” Patton pressed answer without looking at who called as he stumbled out of the room.

“Hello?”

“I see you’ve finally answered.”

Patton’s heart dropped.

—

Roman was halfway through the end of his monologue when, in the corner of his eye, he spotted Patton re-enter the room, head ducked.

“Ah! I’m glad you’re back!”

Patton nodded, but in the stilted way Roman quickly recognized. His eyes looked Patton up and down, barely listening to Patton’s stammering apology for interrupting. His hair was disheveled, which meant he ran his hand through it far too many times. His eyes were red, his jaw was tight–

He was crying.

“Anyway, I’m sorry again for leaving so soon!” Patton’s voice brought Roman back to reality. “Keep painting you guys! I gotta Van-Gogh!”

A shaky laugh followed Patton out. Roman frowned, but he nodded for everyone to continue. He passed by Patton’s canvas and snuck a peek.

It was rather abstract, with overlapping strokes forming a gradient. Roman’s gaze followed the gradient downwards. The canvas was filled with dull blues that turned into darkening greys. Towards the bottom was a thin line of black trailed all the way to Patton’s paintbrush, abandoned on the floor.

~*~

The sun sets on a long railroad, it goes past the horizon, it outstretches a hand like it’s beckoning, it’s begging you to run, run faster, everything is going faster and they just told you to go so you have to–

“Pat?”

Patton shot up in his seat with a yelp. He blinked quickly, vision focusing on the silhouette of–

“Virgil!” A strangled laugh escaped his throat. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in!”

Virgil replied simultaneously, “No, I’m sorry, you just weren’t answering and I got worried, but I didn’t realize you were sleeping–”

“Sleeping?” Patton looked down at the time. 5 PM.

“Oh sh– shoot, I’m gonna be late.”

“Late for?”

“Animal shelter,” Patton mumbled, stumbling out of his chair and grabbing his bag. “I forgot that I said I’d come in today– gosh how could I forget–”

“Hey.” Virgil rested a hand on Patton’s shoulder before Patton could go spiralling out the door. “Deep breath. I’ll drive you, it’ll be okay.”

Patton opened his mouth to protest, but remembered the time. He sighed and motioned wordlessly at the door. Virgil nodded, leading the two of them out towards the parking lot.

“Anyway, I’m sorry if it’s a bad time, I was just hoping to run some website revisions by you,” Virgil said as he started the car and backed out of the lot. Patton shakily smiled.

“No! It’s not a bad time at all, you can tell me about your ideas as you drive!”

“There’s not much. I was just thinking of ways to maybe make it more approachable. There’s not even really an ‘about us’ page or anything about you–”

“Why would there need to be anything about me?”

Virgil looked at him, almost confused. “It’s an amazing organization, Pat. Your name should be up there, especially as the founder…?”

“Oh! R-Right.” Patton let out a sharp laugh. “I guess I never thought about it before.”

“I could put something together tonight, I was just thinking it'd be cool to hear you talk about it.” Virgil turned at an intersection. The sign of the animal shelter soon came into view.

“I guess that’d be a good idea!” Patton shrugged. “But there’s, um, not really anything interesting to know.”

Virgil frowned, falling quiet as he parked the car. When they stopped moving, Virgil turned to face him.

“Say, would it be okay if I joined you?” Virgil shuffled awkwardly in his seat. “I, um, have a bit of a free night, and I was thinking that maybe I could just ask you stuff for the website now so I don’t have to bother you later…?”

Patton’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that sounds perfect! Liz will probably be okay with it. I think it’s bath night for the dogs, and we can always use an extra hand with that!”

Virgil chuckled, following Patton out the car and into the animal shelter.

Patton gathered the energy he had left to greet Liz and everyone else, already cooing over the various animals he and Virgil passed by. They reached the back and, with only a bit of struggle (Patton would never admit to these cute dogs being a struggle), took each dog a bath. All the while, Virgil asked Patton questions about the Rainbow Manor and his life in general, which Patton did his best to answer.

“I ended up founding the Rainbow Manor a year after I graduated.” Patton wiped his brow as they finished drying the last dog. “I had been living on Roman’s couch for so long after being kicked out and I just wanted to turn it around; not only for myself, but for other people.”

Virgil’s stare softened. “I– I’m sorry. N-Not about how you founded the place but, like...why you felt like you needed to. That must’ve been hard.”

“Yeah.” Patton forced a shrug. “It is what it is. Sometimes, you have to get lost to be found, right?”

“Right.” Virgil looked up at Patton. “Do...do you still keep in touch with them? Your parents, I mean.”

Patton felt his heart squeeze.

“It’s been so long,” he finally said. “I doubt they’d want to talk to me.”

—

Virgil offered to drive Patton back, but Patton insisted on taking a cab home. Virgil reluctantly conceded, but promised to email Patton when he drafted the additions to the website. Patton just nodded and watched Virgil drive off.

When he was sure that Virgil was completely gone, he shakily pulled out his phone and called a cab.

“Hi! I– I just need to go to The Rainbow Manor,” he said to the driver as he climbed into the car. He found himself laughing. “Long work day. It is what it is.”

~*~

Days passed, and Patton’s workload somehow doubled: new admissions, new initiatives, new everything.

(And his mother kept calling. And calling. And calling.)

To say it was a lot was an understatement.

Patton found himself going back and forth along the manor halls, forcing a smile at those he passed. He closed his eyes, turning a corner before he knocked into someone.

“Crap! I– I’m so sorry.” Patton quickly scrambled to gather the papers that had fallen onto the floor.

“Oh, don’t apologize, I always thought that important documentation would make for good confetti– ah, hello, Patton.”

Patton looked up. Janus appeared above him, outstretching their hand to help Patton up. Patton took it, scooping the papers up as he went.

“Janus! Hi! Well, if you’re looking for me...here I am!” He laughed, though it sounded scratchier than expected. “Everything okay?”

“More than, thank you. I just wanted to follow up about my schedule for the new admissions? You mentioned yesterday that I should come to you but I couldn’t find you…”

Patton winced. His chest tightened.

“F– I forgot, goodness how am I always–”

“It’s quite alright, Patton, I can always–”

“I–It’s not okay!”

In the corner of his eye, Jonah passed by. He felt their wide eyes on him. The air grew thinner.

“It’s– gah, it’s never fucking–”

“Oookay. We’re not okay and that’s...okay.”

Janus suddenly took Patton’s arm and led him to their office. They swiftly kicked the door shut with their foot as they let Patton settle on the couch.

“Breathe for me,” Janus said slowly, pulling up a chair and sitting across from Patton. They took Patton’s hand and motioned for him to follow their lead. “In for 4, hold for 7, out for 8…”

They repeated this a few more times until Patton let go of his head and his breathing evened out.

“I– I’m so sorry, Janus. I don’t know what–”

“It’s fine, Patton. I’m glad I could help.” A pause. Janus leaned back in their chair. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

“No, everything’s fine.”

Janus raised a brow.

“Okay, everything’s not fine. But...but it will be fine. I have to be fine.” His mind drifted to Jonah. Patton buried his face in his hands.

“I can’t be like this,” he said, tears threatening to fall. “I...I just can’t. Not now, this– this can’t be happening now.”

“Unfortunately, these things tend to find us — not the other way around.” Janus squeezed Patton’s hand in a sudden moment of softness. “I...I know what this is, Patton. And I don’t have to tell you what to do because I know you know. You help so many people like you, but remember: when the plane is falling, you have to put on your oxygen mask before you help someone else.”

Patton locked eyes with Janus for a split second, opening his mouth to respond when he felt his phone ringing. Reflexively, he pulled it out in front of his lap. The air disappeared once more.

‘Incoming call: Mother’

Patton quickly pressed ‘decline’. He then looked up at Janus, whose eyes darted upwards as well.

Shit.

“I– I have to go.”

“Wait, Patton–”

“Thank you for everything, Janus,” Patton mumbled, and before Janus could reply, Patton sped out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him.

~*~

“I just don’t get it,” Roman muttered, leg bouncing under the table in the break room. “I’ve never seen him like this before.”

“You haven’t?” Janus circled the table like a hawk.

“What makes you think I have?”

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that he has about a thousand jobs! Or perhaps it’s that he’s been staying overnight every night to work as if he owns the place — oh wait! He does! But I have no idea why that might be stressful at all!”

Roman glowered at them, but said nothing.

“I can imagine that his workload presumably doubled this past month,” Logan, sitting across from Roman beside Virgil, adjusted his glasses. “Between the new admissions, growth in our volunteer admissions…”

“Okay, so he has a lot on his plate!” Roman pinched the bridge of his nose. “But I’ve seen him stressed out about these sorts of things. This is different.”

“So what else could be on his mind?” Virgil piped up.

Janus suddenly stopped in their tracks.

“His mother.”

Roman’s heart dropped. “His– his what?”

“She called him while Patton was in my office,” Janus murmured. “He left straight after.”

Virgil frowned. “Why would he...”

Roman felt as if he had burst into flames. The pieces clicked together in his head.

“The– the fucking nerve of that woman, I can’t believe she’s still–”

“Roman, what are you talking about?” Logan cut in.

Before Roman could respond, he felt a buzz in his pocket. He immediately pulled out his phone. His breathing hitched.

‘Help.’

“It’s Patton,” he blurted out, stumbling out his chair and making his way out of the room. Everyone exchanged looks, but quickly followed suit.

Roman weaved his ways through the halls until he neared Patton’s office. Loud sobs were muffled behind the door. Roman felt his heart breaking already as he opened it.

And there was Patton, on the floor, crying, and surrounded by shards of broken porcelain. Roman recognized it as a vase he had painted for him years ago. He winced seeing small drops of blood surrounding the pieces. His eyes quickly scanned the room as Logan immediately tended to Patton.

“What happened, Patton?” Logan murmured as Patton curled up closer to him, sobs still wracking his body.

“I– I’m so sorry.” Each word sounded like it was forced out of his lungs and into the air. “I– I tried to clean up, I’m sorry–”

“Shh, Patton. It’s okay.” Janus knelt down beside him, carefully lifting Patton’s wrist to examine his hand. A long cut ran across his palm. Janus looked up at Roman and Virgil.

“There’s a first-aid kit in my office, as well as a broom and dustpan. Can one of you grab it?”

Virgil nodded wordlessly, exiting the room. Roman noticed Patton’s phone beside Patton on the ground, and reached over to pick it up.

“What did she say, Pat,” Roman asked, fear edging the quiet of his voice. The words seemed to stab at Patton and let out more sobs.

“She– she found out about everything,” Patton wheezed through tears. “The– the Rainbow Manor, where I am– she wants to take it all– she can’t take it all–”

“Patton, I need you to follow my breathing, okay?” Janus interrupted, motioning at their chest with their hand as they inhaled and exhaled. “Can you see my hand? I want you to try and follow along, okay?

Patton numbly nodded, trying to breathe through hiccups and sobs. Janus repeated the exercise with Patton for at least fifteen minutes, with Virgil returning halfway and Logan moving to sit in front of Patton to start tending to the cut. Virgil carefully swept around Roman, Janus, Logan, and Patton on the floor.

“Whatever she told you, it isn’t true,” Roman said after Patton’s breath had evened out. “She can’t touch you here, not with us around.”

“I– I know,” Patton sniffled. Logan finished bandaging Patton’s hand and offered him a tissue from the box on his desk. “She said so many awful things, but– but the scariest part is that she didn’t stop at just saying things.”

“What do you mean?” Logan murmured.

“She...she threatened to shut the Rainbow Manor down.”

“What?!” Roman shot up from the floor. “But– but she can’t–”

“You know my mom, Roman,” Patton whimpered. “She has connections all over the city. If she wanted to, she would find a way.”

“So why hasn’t she?” Janus asked quietly. A beat of silence. Patton brought his knees closer to his chest and buried his face between them.

“She– she wants a percentage of the donations,” Patton finally admitted.

“What the fuck,” Virgil growled, stopping in his tracks.

“I know! It’s– it’s impossible, I–” Another sob. Logan and Janus moved closer to him, with Janus putting their arm around his shoulder.

“What did you tell her?” Janus pressed on.

“I– I told her no! Even if I wanted to, I can’t, but– but what else can I do?” Patton looked at his bandaged hand and grimaced. “And of course she got mad, and I freaked out, and I knocked over the vase– god, Roman, I’m sorry about the vase–”

“The vase is replaceable,” is all Roman said. “You aren’t.”

Patton just nodded, looking up at the four of them in his office with teary eyes.

“What am I going to do?”

Everyone exchanged looks. Roman lowered himself back to the floor beside Patton and wrapped him in a warm hug.

“You’re not going to do anything,” Roman said firmly.

“Roman…”

“All your life, you’ve taken care of people like they were your family, Patton. Please, let your family take care of you.”

Patton sniffled, looking around him. Virgil, Logan, and Janus nodded with small smiles, moving closer to him and joining the embrace.

And Patton just nodded, dissolving into tears; except this time, Roman could feel the relief from them. He felt Patton melt in his touch and smiled to himself, a similar relief washing over him as well.

(And for a moment, just a brief moment, Patton was home.)

~*~

One week later…

“Keep your eyes closed…”

“Roman, I don’t know how many more walls I can keep bumping into!”

“Just a little longer, I promise!”

Patton giggled, letting himself be led by Roman through more halls. Then, Roman stopped him.

“Okay, you can open your eyes in 3...2–”

“I’m opening them now, I’m too excited!” Patton squealed, and then opened his eyes. Suddenly, a burst of colour flooded his vision.

“Surprise!” a chorus of voices exclaimed.

Patton broke into a wide smile, blinking to focus on the sight in front of him. He was standing in the recreation room, with a big banner hanging from the back wall reading, “Happy Birthday, Rainbow Manor!”. Beneath it was a table with a cake, which was surrounded by Janus, Virgil, and Logan, alongside a bunch of other teens Patton recognized. Even Jonah was there, wearing a small party hat with a confetti popper in his hands.

Patton felt tears well up in his eyes. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you remembered!”

“Of course, padré!” Roman grabbed Patton’s arm and led him around the table to stand in front of the cake. “Always normal for a family to celebrate the man who built their home!”

“Oh, Roman!” Patton leaned against his shoulder, sniffling. “It’s perfect.”

He then looked at Virgil, Logan, and Janus. “I can’t believe you guys set this all up, it must’ve taken forever!”

“Actually, it just took a day,” Logan hummed.

“And the cake doesn’t explode,” Virgil said with a small finger salute. “I checked.”

“Additionally, we understand that presents are customary at a party,” Logan continued. “So while our present is not materialistic, we do hope it suffices.”

“Oh?”

“Sir Nerds-A-Lot is trying to say that we’re pitching in to give you a few days off!” Roman declared. “We handled a few responsibilities over the weekend while you were home, and split your workload for the week ahead! Consider this the fabulous gift of time!”

“Oh you guys! You didn’t have to!”

“But we did, and we did so gladly,” Logan said with a nod.

“Also–” Janus leaned over to quietly whisper in Patton’s ear– “I took care of your mother.”

Patton frowned. “You...what? Is– is she…”

“She’s fine, but she won’t be bothering you for a long time.” Janus winked. “Let’s just say I know people too.”

Patton exhaled a breath he felt he was holding onto forever. He nodded graciously at Janus as Roman handed him a cake-cutter.

“Alright! Before you take the first slice, you gotta make a wish!” Roman motioned at the lit candles on the cake. Patton stepped forward, closed his eyes for a brief moment, and then blew them out.

Everyone cheered as Patton was surrounded by hugs and laughter. He felt Janus, Logan, Roman, and Virgil crowd around him as they started to help hand out cake to all the teens.

And in the back of his mind, his wish echoed in his head.

‘I hope to always be able to share this home with my family.’

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fic #DLAMP #platonic DLAMP #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #janus sanders #hurt/comfort #angst #thomas sanders fic #everything gets worse before it gets better :p

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disgruntledspacedad · 4 years

Text

The Rules of Engagement (3/5)

The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do.

words: 3.4k

warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence, body horror, general trauma. Please, please heed the warnings on this chapter, guys. It gets pretty intense.

a/n: Unbeta’d. I know I said this was going to be three chapters, but I lied. Sorry, my dudes - this one got away from me. Inspo credit goes to @tiffdawg, as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Well, fuck. You bite back a massive sigh.

You really, really don’t want to walk through that door.

It’s been a month, and you life has changed profoundly.

For one, you’re not at the office as much anymore - Stechner had made good on his promise to consider you for more flyovers, and boy, has Centra Spike been busy. Some new vigilante group is terrorizing Medellín, and while it’s not Search Bloc’s priority to go after them, they’ve undeniably kept Pablo and his sicarios busy. The radio frequencies are hot right now, and you’ve been doing eight, sometimes ten flights a week.

You absolutely love it. The hours are less predictable and definitely more shitty, but listening to a radio from the cockpit of a plane is much more fun that listening to a radio in a stuffy basement office, so you consider it a fair trade.

It keeps your brain busy, too.

Your social life has taken a massive kick to the nuts. Ana is back at university, and you miss her more than you thought you would. You’ve reverted to communicating with Emilio with gestures and smiles more than words. It’s nice because he’s nice, but you miss actual conversation, stilted as it was. Ana wasn’t all that bad, either.

And then there’s Javi.

You haven’t spoken to him since That Morning, not even a polite 'how are you?' in the hallway. Granted, you’re not seeing him as often anymore, given your new position and hours, but then again, you haven’t exactly sought him out, either.

The memory claws at you every time you relive it - and you relive it often. That anger, that wounded expression. The slammed door, his retreating footsteps. Each time you’re in that building, the walls seem to close in on you, and you have to stop yourself from looking for him, actively keep your gaze from roaming straight to his desk.

God, as if you could make it more awkward.

You’d had one nasty conversation with Murphy about a week after the incident - you’d told him in no uncertain terms that he could either mind his own business or fuck right off, you didn’t care which. He’d left you be, throwing his hands in the air and muttering something about how “you two deserve each other.”

Asshole.

Still, that aborted conversation haunts you - so many aborted conversations haunt you - and you wonder what would have happened if you’d just taken the bull by the horns and addressed the issue with Javi head on.

I’m sorry you caught me rubbing one off on the morning after you almost died, Peña. I can assure you, it won’t happen again. Your friendship means the world to me.

Yeah, right.

God, though, but you miss him.

You miss him so much it aches, a gaping hole that reaches right down to the core of you, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You’d fucked this one completely and thoroughly - any chance of restoring your friendship had drained away with the shower-water, and the more time you spend fretting over it, the more awkward - and pathetic - it would be to say anything.

So, you’d cut your losses, held your head high, and tried not to waste too much time wishing you’d have just kept your fucking fantasies to yourself.

Now, though, you’ve got no choice.

You’d been on Centra Spike’s early morning flight, just another routine scan over Medellín. The shift wasn’t intended to be more than a training run for you, but as luck would have it, the Medellín cartel’d had a busy night, and you’d been caught in the crossfire.

Your plane had just touched down half an hour ago, and now you’re standing on the front steps of the embassy building, fingering a shoebox cassette player loaded with a freshly taped recording full of juicy intel destined for the desk of DEA Agent Javier Peña - an entire, private conversation featuring none other than Verdugo himself.

You’d know that voice anywhere. You’ve studied it for hours, what few snatches you’d been able to glean from the embassy archives. It’s almost as if Verdugo is smart enough to steer clear of the city, or to just avoid phone conversations all together, the absolute fuckwad.

Until early this morning.

On the plane, you’d intercepted a new signal and tapped in on a whim, intending to practice your Spanish more than anything, but what you’d overheard was a fucking gold mine of information.

Verdugo is in Medellín. The sicarios are getting ready to move Escobar. He didn’t say where - fucking bastard knows not to spill all of the beans in one conversation - but apparently the plan requires a rendezvous in El Centro first. Verdugo is en route, and will be there until the next morning.

You’d worked frantically all night, tracing and retracing the signal, triangulating potential addresses, then back-tracking to account for environmental distortion. Each calculation had led you to the same place - an unassuming little house right smack in the middle of Medellín.

Bingo.

“You take it in, Aarons.” Torres had declined your offer to do the honors. “It’s your intel.”

So here you are, bleary-eyed and running on less than two hours of sleep, cassette player clenched tightly to your chest, summoning up all of your courage just to go speak with your ex... well, ex whatever-the-fuck Peña is.

‘This is your job,’ you remind yourself fiercely. ‘You can do this.’

As pep-talks go, it isn’t very effective.

Fuck it. You toss your head back, wishing you’d had time to at least grab a cup of coffee on the way in, and breeze around the corner.

“Agent Peña.”

He glances up lazily, thoroughly uninterested in whatever you have to say. When he realizes it’s you, he blinks once, dropping his cigarette in the ashtray and sitting up to eyeball you with a wary expression.

"What can I do for you?” he asks cooly.

You remember him saying that once before, but the context was totally different.

You shake it off. “Centra Spike has new intel that you’ll want to see right away.”

He purses his lips, tilting his head to indicate the growing pile of bullshit on his desk. “You can leave it here.”

Oh, so that’s how it is, then?

“I can’t.” You pin him with a stare, and he meets your gaze evenly, raising his eyebrows in silent challenge. You clear your throat and clarify. “I won’t.”

He scoffs as you carefully rest cassette tape on his desk, along with a map of El Centro. “We intercepted a four minute conversation with Verdugo this morning. He’s here.” You point to the safe house on the map, which you’ve already circled in red ink. “Feo and Limón are with him. They’re leaving early tomorrow.”

Peña frowns down at the spot where your finger rests. “And can you corroborate that information?”

Oh, the motherfucker. “I verified his voice personally, Peña,” you say carefully, doing your damndest to keep the annoyance from your tone. It’s well within his right to ask questions, after all. “It’s a direct match for the audio samples we have.” You tap the tape for emphasis. “You’re welcome to listen for yourself.”

He doesn’t make a move for a long time. Something hot and painful burns in your gut as you wait.

God, he knows you, knows you better than anybody else in on this goddamned continent. He knows that you know your shit, that you want to catch Escobar as desperately as he does. And this evidence that you have spread across his desk, recorded on tape and marked plainly in red ink, is irrefutable, undeniable - it’s a huge break. He knows that, too.

His apathy is palpable, and it’s driving you up the fucking wall.

When he finally glances up at you, it’s with a doubtful little smirk on his face. “Hmm.”

And oh, wow, you’re shocked by just how much that hurts.

All your life, from the moment you were born into a family of brothers, you’ve had to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously. It was a fact of life as early as you can remember - ‘look after your sister,’ or, ’she’s just a girl,’ or ‘wow, you’re really great at math, for a woman!’ You’d settled on your career as an analyst because you’d wanted it, not because you’d had something to prove, but still, the military is a male-dominated field, and from the start, the odds had been stacked against you. Landing this CIA gig had been the achievement of a fucking lifetime. Still, the bar is set high in the Colombia, and it’s set that much higher for a woman. You’re well aware of this; you’re reminded every single day.

Point being, you’re used to defending yourself and your abilities; it comes as natural as breathing.

But until now, you’ve never had to fight this battle with Peña. He’d taken you at face value from the moment he'd laid eyes on you, treating you like just another operative. Sure, he might take a crack at you every now and again, but that's all in good fun, and you’ve never been one to shy away from a laugh.

Christ, you never realized just how much that respect meant to you until suddenly, it’s gone.

“If you have something to say about my skills and qualifications, Agent Peña, then I suggest you say it.” You lean over his desk, speaking quietly, enunciating each syllable with deadly precision. “Otherwise, I think we both know that it’s in the best interest of Search Bloc and the Colombian people that we collaborate quickly, so we can put boots on the ground and land this motherfucker behind bars where he belongs.”

Peña’s eyes narrow, and he cocks his head, studying you. You meet his gaze, biting back a snarl. You won’t back down. You won’t allow him to intimidate you.

When he nods sharply and reaches for his phone, you know you’ve won.

♠

Ten minutes later, you’re situated in a conference room with Peña, Steve Murphy, Martinez, and a couple of the other higher ups of Search Bloc whose names you haven’t memorized. Your maps are spread over the table, your tape displayed for all to see, and every eye is on you.

“Verdugo is here,” you say, leaning over the map to indicate the marked house. “He and his entourage arrived late last night, and they’re planning to leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Plenty of time to get a team together.” Murphy interjects, glancing between you and Peña with open curiosity.

You narrow your gaze at him. Drama-mongering bastard.

Peña’s not moving. He’s standing with his hip cocked toward the desk, frowning down at the map with his fingers curled to his chin like he’s totally oblivious to everything happening around him.

You know he’s not, though. That’s Javi’s thinking face, the one he makes when he wants people to shut the fuck up and forget about him until he can work something out. You’re pretty familiar with that one.

The others are babbling in Spanish, discussing logistics and the likelihood of this being another trap.

It’s not. You know this deep in your bones. You’d heard that conversation in real time, had translated, triangulated it.

This is legit.

You’ve just decided to leave them to it when Javi snaps his eyes open.

“I agree with Aarons,” he announces out of nowhere. You’re startled by the confidence in his tone. Curious, you glance up, but it’s difficult to get a read on him. He’s pinning every person in the room except you with a hard stare. “We need to move out now.”

Several of the others make noises of protest, but Peña shuts them all down, one by one. Finally, his eyes flicker up to meet yours, just for a brief second, but there’s something different in his gaze, something new and heavily guarded.

You think it might be an apology.

“Let’s end this.”

♠

He’s on a plane to Medellín within an hour, wearing that stupid bullet proof vest. For just a split second, you wish that you were going, too. You don’t have enough experience, though - you’re not an agent; you haven’t handled a gun since basic. You’d be useless in a real fight, a liability, even.

Still, you feel some ownership in this operation, today more than ever. You don’t even try to kid yourself about Javi anymore, either. Those fucking feelings haven’t faded in a month, not a bit, not even after the awkward conversation you’d had in his office.

‘But he stood up for you, too, afterward,’ something whispers in the back of your mind. You replay that little glance in the conference room over and over as you watch Search Bloc board the plane.

He’s looking for you this time, standing on the ramp with his eyes shaded like he knows you’ll be waiting. He doesn’t nod and you don’t wave, but you make eye contact for a lingering moment, and again, there’s something in his expression that you don’t recognize.

Then the plane takes off down the runway, and you feel as if your heart is swooping away with it.

♠

You volunteer for the late shift at work, monitoring the radio lines in case something comes up. It’s an unusually quiet night, as if all of Bogotá collectively holds its breath, and you mostly spend it watching the clock, calculating the hours in your head.

One to land in Medellín. Two more to mobilize the men. Another half to get in location.

From there, your speculation gets fuzzy. There’s no way to predict the outcome once Verdugo is engaged. Javi’s told you a million stories, each more unbelievable than the last - car chases and rooftop shootouts, standoffs in the street, a fistfight in a church sanctuary, bodies of children littering dark alleyways… you cut off the recollections. They aren’t doing you any favors.

Verdugo is a dangerous man. Anything could happen.

By seven am, your brain is mush and your eyes are hyper-focused in that bleary way that happens when you’ve gone too long without sleep. Your third cup of coffee has gone cold, and people are starting to trickle in. You wave half-heartedly to Torres as you slip out of your headset, rubbing your fingers over your scalp to ease the tension that comes from wearing heavy earphones all night. A shower sounds nice, you decide, and maybe a quick nap afterward.

Somebody will page you with news.

Getting out of the building does a lot to wake you up. There’s something oppressive about the CNP headquarters that seems to abate when you step into the streets of Bogotá. The city buzzes with life even in the early morning, and air is warm in a way that seems to energize rather than sedate. Optimism is easier to invoke as you walk down the street in broad daylight.

Javi had looked at you, at least. He’d listened. He’ll call in to the office as soon as he can. Your intel was good, and they’ve flushed out the rat, he’d promised you that.

Everything will be okay.

You round the corner of CRA 70 and Circular, waving to Emilio, who is working the register of the pharmacy today.

“Orejas!” He shouts, reaching below the counter to hold aloft another bottle of aguardiente. “¡Mira! Solo para ti!”

You grin back at him, raising your voice to shout a greeting, and then, with absolutely no warning, the store explodes.

A loud boom.

A whoosh of impossible heat.

A massive orange fireball billowing from the windows.

Your body flying, flying through the air.

Bright blue sky, and then darkness.

♠

You find yourself lying flat on your back in the middle of the street. Your ears are ringing. There’s a pat-pattering in the air, soft like falling rain.

You blink hard.

It’s not rain, you realize dizzily.

It’s fucking ash.

The air is dark with it, hot and heavy. It coats your tongue and stings your eyes. It’s hard to catch a breath. Your throat hurts, your chest aches. You cough weakly. The smell is terrible, acrid and bitter like burned metal. You can taste it on your tongue.

Slowly, you tense your muscles. Your chest is still burning, but there’s nothing sharp to suggest a serious injury. Your back is sore, your head fuzzy.

You sit up, wincing a little, relieved to realize that you’ve just had the wind knocked from you. You’ll have some bruises tomorrow, but that’s all.

Sound slowly filters in. The hiss and crackle of flame. A shout in the distance. Further away, a wailing siren.

Reality slams into you all at once.

Emilio!

You stand, wobbling more than you think you should, but you push past it. Reality seems to pitch and roil, as if the ground is hitching its breath beneath you. Rubble coats the street, dust clouds the air.

Oh god.

A gaping, smoking crater is all that’s left of Emilio’s pharmacy. The windows are blown out of the businesses on either side, their outer walls bowing under the pressure. Your apartment on the top floor is demolished, the roof caving in, flames licking at the the collapsed floors.

You gasp one long, shuddering breath, taking it all in, and then you’re running, sort of, picking your way through hunks of concrete and twisted metal.

“Emilio! Emilio!”

Your voice is hoarse, the world hushed. Nothing sounds quite right. Your legs are shaking and you can’t catch your breath. Some of the rubble is hot to the touch, and you feel like you’re moving underwater, slow and awkward and stupid.

You approach what’s left of the store, and the smell hits you first. Like cooked meat - charred, greasy, heavy.

You press your hand to your mouth to stifle a scream.

You found Emilio. He’s pinned beneath part of the collapsed roof. You look away quickly, but not before you catch a glimpse of blackened flesh, of bone, blood, and pink frothy tissue.

Acid rises in your throat, and you stumble to your knees, stomach clenching painfully into your ribs as you vomit onto the street. It goes on and on, over and over for an eternity, tears and snot and bile and ash leaking mingled down your face until there is nothing left in you to expel.

The encroaching wail of a siren draws you to your senses. You glance up, suddenly painfully aware of your situation. The ceiling is arching above you, just to your right, and it’s creaking ominously. The fires are still burning, and your shirt is clinging painfully hot against your back. You stagger to your feet once again, dizzy, almost drunkenly. A small crowd has gathered, pointing and gawking, calling out to you in Spanish that you are far, far too overwhelmed to translate.

Gasping, you raise your hands and side-step away, careful of the debris that litters the street around you.

A firetruck arrives on the scene, squalling to a stop between you and the onlookers, and you leap at the opportunity, ducking down the nearest alleyway before anybody can follow.

♠

You aren’t sure how much time you waste in the alleyways of Bogotá.

Seconds?

Minutes?

The time after the explosion is all a blur, and you run until you literally can’t anymore, until you’re doubled over and wheezing, coughing, hacking, panting.

Some primal survival instinct clicks in your brain then, and suddenly, your mind is clear. You glance around, swiping at your cheeks and brushing the ash from your shirt.

Now what?

You take a shaking breath and think.

Okay, first order of business, you’re absolutely disgusting. You need a shower before you can even think about doing anything productive.

Your bathroom just went up in flames, along with all of your clothes. Your heart clenches as you think of Ana - she’s at university, so that’s out. The embassy has a nice bathroom, but no showers that you’re aware of.

There’s only one place you know to go, and that’s Javi’s apartment.

You glance up at the sky. The sun is still pretty low - it can’t have been more than an hour since you’d left work, and that was around seven am. Javi obviously isn’t home, and you don’t have a key, but if you hurry, there’s still a chance that you could catch Murphy before he leaves his flat.

It’s a long shot, but you decide there’s nothing to lose for trying.

#Javier Peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #javi x you #javi x reader #javier pena x reader #narcos netflix #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #narcos fanfiction #Javier Peña imagine #pedro fandom #the rules of engagement #better love #angst #slow burn #friends to lovers #hurt/comfort #smut

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Headcanons for Friends to Lovers with Rodrick Heffley

Rodrick Heffley x reader

warnings: mentions of a bad home life

a/n: YALL I FUVKING DID IT AND IM TERRIFIED OF THE REPERCUSSIONS

prompt: y/n and rodrick have been friends for a long time, so long boundaries seem to be blurred

you’ve actually known rodrick since elementary school

it all started when he asked you to join his band

“i can play drums, you can play the tambourine because that’s the only other instrument i have! it’ll be wicked!”

your band lasted a week and only had one gig, it was for rodrick’s parents

who LOVED you by the way

they somehow permitted you to sleepover almost every other day, you practically lived at their house

FOR YEARS you did this

terrorizing lil greg

“what’s he gonna do, pee his diaper?”

“rodrick!!!”

always trick or treating together, exchanging candy when you got back go his house (or occasionally yours)

you guys didnt like hanging at your house, your parents were kind of....a lot to handle

starting middle school together, wreaking havoc on all the teachers

rodrick did it to impress you, according to mr. and mrs. heffley

but he’d give you a stupid little smirk from across the classroom after he got scolded so you believed them

whenever anyone gave you shit at school, rodrick wouldn’t hesitate to step in and show them who’s boss

“rodrick, you’re gonna get detention again!”

“yeah, well, i’m not gonna let them be mean to you”

you went to his house after school most days, sometimes you’d get there first while he was in detention

mrs. heffley had after school snacks

“y/n, why don’t you play some video games with greg while you wait for rodrick to get home?”

playing wii sports with greg, who cried when you won

you also had time to do homework while you waited, rodrick usually copied afterwards

when rodrick came home, he’d drag you to the garage to show you his drum skills

he hit himself in the head with his drumstick

“ooh, that’s gonna leave a mark”

next step was high school, which was a weird step up

but you guys had each other

you still spent most nights at the heffley residence, but you had to sleep on the couch instead of on the floor in the attic (aka rodricks lair)

“you two are growing up, so we think it’s best that you don’t sleep in the same room together, right?”

rodrick emptied one of his drawers for you to put your clothes in

but you still end up stealing his clothes half the time

“i wish i could be mad, but you wear all of my clothes better than me”

subconsciously doing couple-y things without realizing it

like rodrick would pull you closer to him when you two were together, put his arm around you, give you his jacket, etc

“are you guys serious? you’ve got to be dating!” -everyone

“rodrick, when are you and y/n going to get together?” -mr. and mrs. heffley

the answer was always the same: “we’re just friendssssss”

watching his band practice and cheering him on no matter what

you’re his guest vocals ☺️

when he got the van, it was a whole new world for you guys

you could go out wherever whenever

(with parent approval usually)

“wanna go ride around for a little while? hit a gas station and get a bunch of candy?”

“do you even have to ask?”

watching scary movies in his room

“platonic” cuddling in his bed

stuffing your face in the crook of his neck during scary scenes

“come on, y/n! it’s not that bad!”

him having to hold onto you for comfort so you’d keep watching with him

sometimes falling asleep together and his mom or dad coming to check on you later

“alright, time for bed! y/n, you get your usual couch...”

laughing your ass off at rodrick when he messes with greg

manny loves you, sometimes rodrick is jealous of the attention you give to his baby brother instead of him

rodrick scooping you up in his arms when you least expect it, never fails to make you scream

“hey there, hot stuff”

“you’re impossible!”

roller skating together, he held your hand the whole time bc he was worried you’d fall

his friends ENDLESSLY taunt him over your relationship

when he makes plans with others, he always says “let me ask y/n first” which just SENDS his friends oh my god

“dude, that’s your s/o!”

“no, they’re not! shut up!”

hating being apart a lot its so stressful

sometimes you’d have a pretty hard time at home and show up to his house at odd hours, but you were always welcome

you have your own key

“hey, what’s wrong?”

“my parents...they’re just the worst”

rodrick knows its bad when you start crying

he took you up to his room and played some music (quietly as not to wake the house)

you laid on top of him while he rubbed your back and told you that he was there for you

dozing off on him, as per usual

dude, the amount of pictures you have? astronomical

you playing his drums, the two of you going 🤘, an actual nice picture of you guys, him carrying you on his back, kiddos on your first day of school by year, you kissing his cheek “platonically”

comforting him when he was having his own hard times, whether it be an argument with his parents/greg, difficulties with musical inspiration, or anything else

“come here, you need a hug”

“i need several”

“you’ll get ‘em”

talent show! talent show! talent show!

you completely cussed out the rest of his band before they went on bc they had the audacity to replace him

but greg managed to save the day

“greg, my dude, give me a high five, that was awesome”

he wasn’t actually half bad but like, his mom kinda stole the show

more joyrides in the van

absolutely BLASTING the music in there while you and rodrick sat on the floor in the back and ate the taco bell you’d just picked up

“dude, you gotta try my potato griller, it’s a godsend”

“okay, but try this slushie, its so good. i mean, not as good as a 7-eleven slushie, but it’s up there”

finishing your food and laying in the van for another hour bc you just loved each other’s company

but after sitting together alone for so long, you felt like there was something left to do, what was it?

you and rodrick were moving around a bunch and ended up next to each other sitting against the wall of the van

you looked over at each other and hesitated before leaning in to kiss

and you guys kissed for a while

okay, so, you made out on the floor of his van with led zeppelin playing in the background

✨magical✨

it wasn’t awkward or anything, just long overdue

okay it was a little awkward actually

“well, that was” *clears throat* “that was cool or whatever”

“yeah...wanna do it again?”

“oh, for sure”

not like it was a surprise to anyone when you announced you were FINALLY dating

“wait, you guys just started dating? i thought you’d been together for like, at least 5 years” -mr. heffley

“this is great! obviously, we’ll need to set up some boundaries so that everyone is comfortable and safe, but yay for young love!” -mrs. heffley

“gross” -greg

mrs. heffley wrote a column in the newspaper about you titled “my teenage son’s fantastic significant other”

not much changed after you and rodrick got together, just kissing, “i love you’s” and more teasing from friends and school faculty

“we were all rooting for you two, actually!” -the teachers

summer vacation with him

it was always SWEET

going to the pool together, he’d usually lay out on the chairs with you but you were able to drag him into the pool a few times

“come onnnn, it’ll be funnnn”

“you’re lucky you’re cute”

hugs from behind!!! kisses on the top of ur head!!!!

PROM AH HAH HAH

seeing rodrick in a tux was too funny for you, you almost couldn’t stop laughing (especially at the eyeliner he insisted on wearing)

but he just couldn’t stop staring at you

“rodrick!”

“what?! you’re stunning!”

honestly, prom wasn’t all it was cracked up to be

you danced like maniacs for a few songs and ended up ditching early on

but you did end up renting a bunch of movies and getting tonssss of snacks and changing into pajamas as soon as you got to his house

im talking popcorn, candy bars, ice cream, cans of pop, chips, chicken nuggets and so on

and also passing out on each other

“i think i love you a little more, i didn’t know that was possible”

“i have that effect on people”

he makes u breakfast before his mom gets the chance though

“pancakes? for me?”

“i put chocolate chips in them too, you’re gonna love them”

(they were a lil bit burned, still good tho)

you guys really did just spot on get each other

okay but i know you also roast each other sometimes so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

relationship goals, honestly

fresh outta ideas 🤠 goodnight

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley imagine #doawk #doawk x reader #doawk imagine #diary of a wimpy kid #diary of a wimpy kid x reader #diary of a wimpy kid imagine #devon bostick #devon bostick x reader #devon bostick imagine

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writella · 4 years

Text

Around and Around and Around

Pairing: Luke Patterson x reader

Requested? Yes! My first finished request! Thank you for the idea anon. Original ask: Could you do a present day... Alive!Luke x reader fic where him and his girlfriend (the reader) are just trying to spend some alone time together at one of Carrie’s parties? (I’m so sorry I didn’t make it Carrie’s party anon, I forgot.)

Summary: It’s a New Years Eve bash! The gangs all there, but the only thing Luke wants to do is spend time with his girlfriend. Unfortunately though, his friends constantly need their help which causes them to lose each other in the crowd. Around and around and around they constantly go... Can Luke meet up with her in time for a New Years Kiss? We shall see, my friends. We shall see.

Word Count: :)

Warnings: Kissing? Two curse words? I don’t think any of that counts. Oh! Over explaining? Neediness? An over use of the same words?

A/N: Hello everyone! IT IS A CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEARS MIRACLE! I finally finished a new fic. I really hope you enjoy it. I think I did a little too much, but this request just got my head turning and included the whole gang, so I just couldn’t help but give them all their own little moments! I had fun and I hope you do too. I’m taking you on a bit of a rollercoaster here, I will admit, but don’t worry though, I think I gave it a good ending.... You tell me.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N?”

“Luke?”

“Where are you?”

“Luuuke!”

“Luke!

“LUKE, COME LOOK!”

“Y/N, I need you.”

“Her shoe broke!”

“Luke, did you see his dog? It’s so cute! And he even likes pizza!”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to give pizza to a dog, Reg.”

“Well it wasn’t chocolate… Wait where’d he go? Wanna help me find him?”

“Well can she wear yours? Do you have an extra pair?”

“Where are they?”

Hey, Luke?!”

“Y/N?!”

Boom the bedroom door slammed shut, and an out of breath Luke and his girlfriend, Y/N, filed in with a sigh: “Finally,” Luke said, his eyebrows and the corner of his lips rising with excitement. Throughout the hour and forty minus they had spent at the party thus far, they had found corners, almost empty areas, and even tall trees in the backyard, but none were as private as this.

Still standing close to the door, Y/N looked around the walls that glittered with posters of rock bands and athletes. “Do you really think we should be in here? It is the birthday person’s room. Maybe we should be nice and leave it alone.”

“When you throw a party you get what you get,” Luke reasoned, a hint of humor tracing throughout his words. “People travel, and we’re not going to do anything crazy on the kid’s blue basketball sheets if that’s what you’re worried about.” He ended, teasing Nick, the party host.

She softly gave him an ‘alright,’ waiting for him to make his next move. Though they had been thrown around by their friends plenty of times by now tonight, the night was still young, and she knew Luke was adamant on spending time with her. Even more so, it was her first party after living in Los Angeles for almost a year now. (She was a Molina from Julie’s father’s side.) Back home she didn’t have the friend group that she had now, nor did she have someone like Luke specifically in her life as a significant other. After all this time in high school not experiencing these regular social events, a party— especially at this large of a house— seemed daunting, but as always Luke made it seem, as he always does, like it was the most spectacular adventure you couldn’t miss. Apprehension and excitement filled her spirit for what was to come of tonight.

Following his gaze as she watched him survey the room, Luke’s eyes fell most notably on Nick’s guitars. “God, I wish I had this many.”

“He definitely has the collection,” Y/N agreed, still wondering what they were going to do, “but you’ve got like four, right?”

“Half of those were Bobby’s, and the acoustic is the one my parents got me… way back when, so really I only scrounged up enough money once in my life for one electric of my own.”

“So two. Still more than most.” She gave him a sympathetic smile, messing up his hair a little bit while doing so. He rubbed his head into her palm, enjoying the feeling.

There was a wonder in his eyes as he looked at the guitar rack that Y/N found quite charming. “Can’t believe he could spend all his time with these babies and he decides to balance it with sports.”

“I guess we all have our hobbies… but honestly I can’t believe we’re using this moment to ourselves to stare at guitars.” She laughs, “I’m just saying! This is what you wanted!” She corrects herself, “They are beautiful guitars though.”

“Yeah, you’re right. One of them could barge in any minute now,” Luke says, moving closer to Y/N till her back leans against the door. His fingers trace her jaw, then the side of her neck, ending as he swirled one finger around the tips of her hair. “And I could be looking at a much prettier sight.”

“Stop,” she blushed. Y/N was fine with tending to all her friends needs. She enjoyed being the first one Julie, Flynn, and now even Alex or Reggie went to for advice or help. Besides running the jatp social media account and co-running their YouTube page, making her friends feel better was what made her feel needed, but she had to admit, she liked this too.

As they traveled backwards to the door, Luke pecked her lips a few times, then the corners of her mouth, then doing both again making her giggle and move her head to either side his lips fell. Finally, he moved centimeters back, looking in her eyes, ghosting her lips, “Stop doin’ what? Tellin’ the truth?”

The rosy color on her face became more prominent. Her eyes traced between his own emeralds and his smile— his face made her mind fill with wonder. It was so bright, so positive, so warm, so close to her own. She could stay there with him, looking at her so endearingly, forever.

“Y/N?!”

“Ow!” she screeched as Flynn pushed the door open on her leaning stance, bopping her head on the wood.

“Oh my god, sorry!” Flynn gritting her teeth with worry, a fist coming to cover her mouth. “So yeah, ha ha,” the girl tried to build some relief, “Well there you two are!”

Luke grabbed the side of Y/N’s head, placing his hand over her own that covered where the impact landed, “You okay?”

“Yeah…” She sighed, she was more concerned about whatever Flynn had to say.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere. I need you, like for real this time.” Flynn said, her voice filled with urgency.

“Haven’t you needed her and looked for her ‘like’ everywhere three times tonight already?” Luke argued, a little disgruntled that their first truly private moment got interrupted in the matter of minutes.

“Was I talking to you, Patterson?” Flynn retorted, head tilted with a closed smirk on her face. “No, the answer is no.”

“You didn’t have to say the answer, okay? Got the gist.” His movements became dorkier by the second, his fingers coming to his face. “It was rhetorical- I knew that!”

“Wow, learned that big boy word from your girlfriend?”

“Big boy?! I- That’s not even-“ before Luke went on, Y/N cut in: “Alright,” she lifted her hand, “What happened, Flynn? What do you need?”

“It’s Julie-“

“Don’t tell me she broke another shoe. I don’t have an extra-extra pair.”

“No.” Flynn’s eyes widened, “I actually- I don’t know what it is. She just told me to get you and come to her together.” The girl sighed, “She looked sad.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, a frown coming to her face. A sad Julie is a Julie that should never be in this world. Other than thinking about the absence of her mother, Y/N’s cousin knew how to smile even when things got tough, so if she was feeling down now, and it was evident, it must’ve been important.

“Yeah. So come? Like now?” Flynn grabbed Y/N’s hand and Y/N looked at her own opposite hand that was currently attached to Luke’s, trailing her eyes up to his face.

“Well, I’ll just go too.” He insisted, “I want to help Julie, and,” He spoke directly to Y/N, “I don’t mind.”

“She didn’t ask for you.” Flynn snapped back.

“It’ll be fine.” Y/N decided, “It’s not like we all don’t know her well anyway, right?”

“Yeah, let's go. And then we can just get back, hopefully. I want to spend tonight with you.” Luke said that last part more softly, but apparently not quietly enough.

“Oh god!” Flynn vexed. “Haven’t you spent all week stuck to her mouth?” Through snickers she said, “Let her come up for some air, bruv.” Then, letting go of Y/N's hand as she turns, leading the couple to the staircase, she continued: “And really you should be relaxing all those throat muscles or whatever. I've got you in two open mic night cafes next week and that kids party at the restaurant tomorrow, AND on Sunday Julie said she wanted to record that new song for the YouTube channel.” She slapped the side of her hand to the inside of the other, creating a chopping effect, “We got things to do! I’m trying to make sure you guys stay safe and have fun, but we shouldn’t be here all night.”

Luke rolled his eyes, as much as he loved playing, he hated being bossed around like this. “It's New Year’s Eve!” He complained, yet there was still a hint of playfulness in his voice. “Mind you, this is being said by the girl who agreed to DJ at this party.”

“I didn’t agree! I got reeled into it— Difference, see! This kid comes out of nowhere to bring me onto his home stage— man, he’s rich—- and asks me if I could change the tracks, put something fun on. How am I supposed to say no? It is his birthday and everything that was on before was terrible!”

“That we can agree on,” Luke noted with a laugh.

Y/N added on, after her long silence of listening to the two go back and forth, “You finally got everyone dancing.”

“I did! Thank you!” Flynn appreciated the acknowledgment, especially from Luke, but nonetheless, she persists on her earlier claim, “That being said, I really think we should leave by 10.”

“10?!” Luke repeats with annoyance. “Tomorrow’s gig starts at six. PM. And might I remind you again: it's freakin New Years Eve! We have to stay till the ball drops!”

“We have to practice one last time and we have to get there bef-“

“Alright, alright, boss.” Luke was done arguing (for the time being.) Instead his eyes followed Y/N’s who was no longer listening, bored of her best friend and boyfriend’s little fighting game, as they looked for Julie in the clusters of kids all around the room on the main floor. “Let’s just look for Jules so we can get back. And can we make it to midnight at the least? Please? I mean, come on, there no food at the Molina house to celebrate with and you were having fun up there with those turntables.” He started to smile cheekily at Flynn, “Don’t deny it.”

Flynn took in a sharp breath as she thought. Nick did have access to some sick equipment and has always been so kind enough to share, so it would be fun to play around some more. “We’ll see how I feel at 11. And by the way, we do have things to celebrate with at the garage. I bought stuff specifically so you guys wouldn’t complain when we left,” she went on, the three taking another turn, “We’re going to have some fun here till 10, or 11 I guess, get back to the garage, celebrate New Years— woo-hoo!— and then you guys are settled down by 12:15, 30 the latest. I don’t care if you’re not asleep, just not outside.” Seeing Luke’s face rise up again she defends herself, “It's not my fault you phantoms have terrible time management skills! You guys literally have transportation powers and you’re either late or not present. It’s crazy! I need to make sure you’re there and we get paid. Period.”

Luke suppressed a grunt as Y/N rubbed his shoulders, laughing a bit at the truth of Flynn’s statement.

Then, to console Luke, she whispered in his ear, “No matter where we are, I’ll be there. Plan still intact.”

“True.” Luke whispered back, rubbing his nose on the side of her head.

Luke liked his freedom. He was used to calling the shots when it came to the band, only taking on co-captain position as Julie challenged him with just as much leadership star power as he contained. This made Flynn appointing herself as band manager not something to be desired exactly, especially when she made decisions like this on their down time. He didn’t quite enjoy being told where to go and when, but on the other hand, he couldn’t help to admit to himself that the tech savvy skills both her and Y/N brought to the table were tremendously helpful. The 90s boy was used to walking around town trying to find the next cafe for the guys to play at that he didn’t know how easy it was in this digital world to find venues he never even heard of through the internet. This made him never forget to say thank you after a gig she or Y/N would find from their endless online searchings. And on Flynn’s end, she never forgot to commend Luke on his writing skills when he happened to be the scribe for one of the band’s songs she happened to enjoy, but other than that, they did not have that much to say to each other.

Despite the natural banter and quips that would suggest they were well acquainted, they were actually still quite awkward. Luke was used to admiring her relationship with Julie and Y/N from afar, and for Flynn, after the boys came back to life she didn’t know exactly how to fit herself into the group. Of course she was a part of it, Y/N made certain of it as she herself had also felt strange about her placement in Julie’s new friend group before Julie formally introduced her to them, not knowing that her cousin could also see ghost like she could, but overall, Flynn felt just the tiniest bit embarrassed that the boys she once called ‘cute ghosts’-- more than twice-- heard her say that and all the other things she’d say not knowing they were around (Julie told her they could sometimes snoop in unbeknownst to even her at times. ‘They don’t know boundaries,’ she would say.) Flynn especially felt this way when one of those ex-ghosts was Luke who knew he was ‘cute,’ as she once said, and would bother her about it endlessly when he was first able to communicate with her.

Were they friends? Or was it simply that Luke was just a friend of her friends and that Flynn was just the friend of his girlfriend and mutual friend. Neither of them knew where their relationship stood. This caused Flynn to use her wit as a defense mechanism or to only begin a conversation with the guy when it was about something band related. ‘You kind of act like siblings,’ Y/N would tell them when they were at it. Both of them gawked at the word. ‘Siblings?!’

Around another corner the three went, passing the open space below the home stage that was being used as a dance floor. They went to the room adjacent to it. It was another rather large area, though this one was filled with more furniture, a lot in fact, perhaps to make space for the makeshift dance area. There was also an unused fireplace which caught the eyes of Y/N who yanked on the connected hand of Luke’s and then Flynn to take notice of who sat on the ledge.

The water bunching up in her eyes sparked white from the room's fluorescent gleaming lights, making her tears look much bigger and shinier. It made the group feel bad they didn’t find her sooner.

“Julie!” They all exclaimed in unison though Luke’s reaction was filled with the most apparent fret: the glow of the lights and his wide eye expression showed clearly how his eyes were growing greener with questions and worry. “What happened?” He tried to ask softly, not knowing how to react to her tears. The attempt at softness then immediately changed into one of starting frustration as he sat down next to his poor bandmate, hand on her knee, looking toward Flynn, “Why didn’t you tell us she was like this?”

“Because she wasn’t like this when I left!” Flynn countered, coming to sit down next to Julie on her left side as Luke had taken the right.

“Why do you always-“

“Enough guys,” Y/N silenced them for the third time that night. She noticed how Julie was shying away from both of their faces, not wanting to show them her tears. Julie was strong; a fighter; she sometimes much rather fake out her friends by smiling through her problems before she was ready to talk about them. Y/N knew all of this, related to it in fact, and could sense the possible embarrassment she must’ve been feeling. Not only did she create a movie moment for herself by being the girl crying at a party, but she was crying in front of her friends, when she was typically the person who tried to inspire hope, for she was the front man of her own band after all.

Y/N could also sense— guessing by the way she mostly was turning her face from Luke— that it was a boy problem. Not that Luke’s jittery expression, or close proximity to her face was helping her open up either.

Luke was trying to work on being more helpful in moments where his friends were in tears, but sometimes he could be a little too aggressive, or ‘extra,’ as Flynn would put it and Alex would agree, adding the new slang term to his vocabulary.

Y/N took a seat in front of her on the ground, rubbing her friend's arm. “It’s okay, Jules. Nobody cares what you look like. You can tell us.”

“I know, it’s just-“ she sucked her teeth, looking up, head still tilted to Flynn’s side. “It’s stupid.”

“No ones going to judge you,” Y/N promised, pointing her head to Luke’s direction for Julie to see.

“Yeah, and I bet it’s not ‘stupid’ anyway.” Flynn added.

“Nothings stupid if it made you cry, Jules.” Luke chimed in, finally agreeing with Flynn on something for the second time this night. “Who was it? I’ll beat them up for you.” He joked.

“Oh my god, no!” Julie tittered just a little while trying to wipe away all her tears. “And please never say something like that again. You sound like a dad.”

“Well he is supposed to be like 40 or something,” Flynn said, making the both of her best friends laugh. Julie specifically shook her head at this moment of Flynn and Luke’s typical banter, it was the first time she was getting a whiff of it tonight. Although she appreciated the entertainment they brought when in a room together, she agreed with Y/N that they were relentless.

Luke let that one go, seeing how it finally brought a smile to the girl’s face, “There she is.”

Julie rolled her eyes at him, sighing as her fit of giggles passed, “Okay,” she started slowly, “Well... it was Nick… and I know it’s stupid-“

“-Not stupid.” Her friends finished.

“But you know, he invited me to this party. Directly! Said he wanted to hang out- to dance. When we came, the party just started so he had to say hi to people, that made sense, and he told me to stay near the main floor, so I waited. And then my shoe broke, and then some girl spilled some of that fondue on the bottom of my dress which I had to get out with bathroom wipes, so that was annoying. Then next thing you know it’s an hour later and all I’ve done is eat pizza and watch Flynn at the turntables…”

Julie went on. She explained that finally Nick showed up again , but as he was walking to her, Carrie had just arrived at the party, stopping him in his tracks. Apparently her gift was too heavy to bring inside, so she wanted to take him to her car to show him right then and there. “He said he’d be five minutes tops. Told me to come here by the fireplace, so again, I waited. Then five minutes turned into fifteen, so I got up.” She sidetracked, “That’s not me. Just sitting there, waiting, waiting, waiting. I felt dumb. That's when I walked to the backyard to see what was going on out there, find something to do after all this time, but funny enough that’s where I found Nick and Carrie, laughing, dancing, having a great time.” She wipes a new stray tear, “I decided to look for you,” she nodded to Y/N, “And it’s no offense Flynn, you know I love you, it’s just that I didn’t want to hear you tell me that ‘he’s not worth it’ at the moment.” She gave herself a pity laugh, “I’m currently feeling a little bad for myself as you can see.”

“I’m so sorry Julie.” Y/N started. “But Flynn only tells you the facts like that because she thinks you’re so worthy of more.”

“So much more,” Flynn added on, moving closer to Julie.

“But I get it, it's not fair.” consoled Y/N. “I try to always consider his actions in those instances with Carrie as him just being a pacifist, but if he said he wanted to be with you and continuously told you he would, then he should’ve been here.”

“Agreed, but also, being a pacifist doesn’t mean to always stay quiet though, you can find a way to keep the peace and still do what’s right.” Luke spoke up. “He shouldn’t let Carrie always take him away like that.”

Y/N gave Luke a smile, “Insightful.”

“Strangely,” Flynn chimed in, “but exactly right. Not to mention how it’s not fair— no matter how nice he is— for him to just let Carrie keep saying whatever the hell she wants without calling her out.”

“I just feel like I shouldn’t be so beat up. It is his birthday after all. He can do what he wants.” Muttered Julie.

“No!” Y/N told her. “You feel like you wasted your time, I get that! It’s his birthday, but your feelings are still important.”

“Also,” Luke started, “Julie, I mean, come on! You could do so much better. So what? He’s like 18 now? Well I’m 18 now too, supposed to be 40 something apparently and I look like this! This! Compared to Nick? Julie… girl!” He stated her name again, smiled wide, “I know Molina’s have better taste than that. Not to say what you didn’t want to hear, but, it’s true: he’s not worth it. Period.” He mimicked Flynn with the last word.

Both Flynn and Julie gagged, “Oh my god,” they said in union. Y/N just put her face in her hands.

“You were actually doing well, and then you just go and screw it up like that?” Flynn sighed.

“Now you went from a dad to sounding like a whole ratty teenage boy.” She rolled her eyes teasingly, trying to conceal her laughter at his conceited remark, “Disgusting.”

“Well as long as I got you to stop crying, that’s all that matters anyway.” He laughed goofily, invading her personal space once again.

“Yeah,” Julie realized with a contented sigh. It seemed all the company she really needed was her friends.

“Well, I think the only thing to do now is make up for all that time wasted, huh?” Y/N spoke with a smirk. “If he doesn’t want to be your dance partner, it looks like you’re going to have to take on three instead.”

“Fuck yeah,” Luke said, jumping up, grabbing Y/N and Julie’s hands and running to the dance floor.

Flynn called to the group, as she parted from them, heading to the stage, “Lemme change the song!”

“OOOH!” Luke roared as the ooos and aahs of Donna and the Dynamos filled the room. “One of the best things to come out of the 2000s!”

Julie and Y/N laughed at the surprisingly grand amount of love Luke had for Mamma Mia!

Luke imitated the hustle, sticking his tongue out, shaking his hips, and making Y/N dance along with him, moving around Julie who looked at them incredulously.

“Come oooon,” he said to Julie’s direction, “Nobody can NOT like this song.” And after that Julie gave in, agreeing that a Mamma Mia and ABBA song was too good not to dance to. Flynn came up right behind her, making the dancing trio into a group of four.

From jumping, to slides and shoulder grooves, and even forming their own little dancing circle the four lived in the song, seeing the last of Julie’s worry wash away as the speakers blasted the words “Dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen,” to which Julie’s friends made sure to spotlight her on as their hands sprinkled up and down spirit fingers as she twirled, enjoying her title that fit perfectly with her age.

“Thanks guys,” Julie smiled sweetly, still jumping to the beat.

“WOOOO!” Luke hollered into the crowd, taking Y/N’s hand, swaying and jumping with her exclusively now.

“WOO!” She yelled back.

“LOUDER, LOUDER!” He yelled in her face, shaking his head, his hair imitating a lion’s mane as he gritted his teeth, getting closer to her face.

“WOOOOO!” She yelled, trying to match her boyfriend’s energy.

“YES, Y/N. WOOO!” They kept jumping and he spun her around, letting her twirl into his grasp. He held her closer, one arm tightly around her waist while the other still held her hand, stepping and swaying side to side in a fast pace in order to keep up with the quick musical tune. Her laughs of surprisement to his actions filled him with pride. She was usually so focused on making her friends smile, she could sometimes forget to just have fun for herself. She dropped anything to tend to their needs, which is why tonight was important. At her first party he was going to make her smile and have fun, and that ended with a New Year’s kiss. Hopefully, he could find a way to hide from Flynn— and his friends for that matter— till that time to make it happen.

Finally the song died down and a rush of endorphins filled the floor as almost everyone in the area, even those who typically didn’t dance joined along to the jumping motion the four started at the beginning of the song. “Should I change it?” Flynn asked Julie as the next song started, noticing how different the vibe of this song was from the last: slower, more romantic.

“No,” Julie told Flynn as she watched Luke take his arms closer into Y/N’s sides, “Let’s let them have their moment.”

Y/N arms went around Luke’s neck, and his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling each other closer while swaying in a circular motion. He connected their foreheads. His eyes fixated on her own. They were so gentle, so sweet, so comforting, he felt safe looking in them. He could stay that way forever.

“Luke?”

Luke sighed, once again just minutes of feeling release ruined. “Yeah, bud?” It was Alex.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but this kid Reginald-“

“Don’t tell me he lost the dog again. I don’t want to look for it.”

“It’s not the dog! Well, not this time. I think he’s finally realized that we can’t take it home with us. It’s-“ Alex started snickering which then turned into great belly laughs he couldn’t stop, “I just- I can’t- I can’t- just please,” he had no control. “Please I need your help!”

“What the hell, Alex?”

“Just-“ Alex put his hand over his mouth, trying to conceal his laughs. He motioned Luke with his other hand, walking away.

Luke kept his hand in Y/N’s, bringing her along with him, “I don’t want to get split up again, like last time with the dog.”

“It’s not the dog!” Alex exclaimed, still laughing.

The three were now on the right side of the house, near the pool door that also stood to the right and in the area sat a couch and pool table. The wall on the left side had a small vent near the floor which is where they found Reggie, hip deep in the square hole.

“HELLO!” Reggie wagged his butt, for his friends to see, “Did you bring Luke?”

“Yeah!” Alex answered “Do you see now? He’s stuck!”

“How and why?!” Y/N asked, now joining in with Alex’s uncontrollable laughter as Reggie kept shaking his butt. Quickly Luke couldn’t help himself either.

“No! Y/N is here?” Reggie asked, “Y/N I’m so sorry you have to see me like this. I haven’t been doing my squats recently. I know I don’t look in the best of shape-“

“I think that’s the last thing I’m worried about, Reg,” Y/N said, still losing her breath along with Alex who yelled an incredulous ‘what?!’ at his words.

“No one cares about your glutes, bro.” Luke shook his head, laughing with the two.

“Well I do!” Reggie fought back. “I don’t wear these skinny jeans for nothing!”

Alex’s laughter from Reggie’s wackiness turned into one of apprehension. “Well there are more important things to worry about! Like my date being almost two hours late and also how I don’t even know what to say to him because I haven’t seen him in like two months and it's New Year’s Eve and yeah, okay, okay- Stop shaking your ass!”

“Okay,” Y/N held his shoulders, still losing her breath, “Willie is going to come, alright? It'll be fine, but-“

“Let’s deal with gluteus minimus first.” Luke finished.

“That’s not even-“

“I don’t care.” Luke finished for Alex this time. “I’ll take the right leg, Alex, take the left. Pull!”

Ow! Ow! Ow!” Reggie yelped.

“PULL!”

“Ow! Stop!”

“It’s going to hurt till we get you out, Reg” Alex explained. “And why isn’t Y/N helping?”

“Oh, sorry,” She was caught up in the hysterics.

“Oh that’s right,” Luke noticed. “Take the right, I’ll hold onto his feet and pull from the back. On three. 1, 2, 3, PULL!”

“WAIT!” Reggie yelled.

“WHAT?” Alex yelled back.

“Luke said on three, but you pulled at ‘pull’, or really after pull, so is it really ‘on three’ or do you want it to be ‘on pull’ or ‘after three’ or ‘after pull’?”

Alex shook his head, “Does it matter?!”

Reggie’s voice cracked, “Just asking!”

“Okay, ON pull!” Luke clarified, “1,2,3, PULL”

“NO! WAIT!”

“WHAT?!” The three pullers yelled.

“I felt a tear in my jacket, I love this jacket.”

“Oh god,” the boys complained.

“I think it’s just going to have to tear for us to get you out,” Y/N told him.

“But you gave it to me!” Y/N heard the sadness in his voice. It was a brown leather jacket with long strands of fringe on either side. She thought it went perfectly with his banjo and love for country music. It also had big inside pockets that could hold all his little treasures, and whatever he had in his pocket today is probably the reason why it was so hard to get him out.

“Maybe Victoria knows a good dry cleaner that can give us a discount,” she reasoned.

“Tía does always have very nicely pressed clothes,” Reggie agreed, as an honorary Molina— self appointed, but appreciated by most— he felt that it was okay to address Victoria as such.

“Yeah,” She laughed at his words, “So are you going to tell me how you got stuck?”

“Well I knew there was going to be a pool table here so I brought my lucky gold eight ball-” Reggie had a lucky every- “And it kind of just fell in here.”

Alex corrected him, “You mean you were getting too cocky at the game and knocked the ball so hard that it fell in there.”

“Potatoes, tomatoes, uh, spaghetti! It doesn't matter now, I got my ball and now I need you guys to help me get out.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Luke nodded, “You ready Reg?”

“...No!”

“You want to make out with the rats? They have diseases.” Alex sarcastically noted.

“They’re misunderstood creatures!” Reggie stated on their behalf. Reggie’s butt buzzed, “Oh that's my phone, that feels weird, “ he laughed.

“Phone!’ Alex's eyes widened, “Where’s my phone?” He dropped Reggie’s leg

“Alex!” Luke exclaimed want to get this over with.

“Willie texted, he said he’ll be here in thirty- thirty minutes!”

“Anything else,” Y/N asked.

“He’s excited to spend the New Years with me” He said softly, unsurely.

“That's great.” Everyone agreed, happy for the boy.

“Are you going to text back?” Y’N asked excitedly, happy with the idea of Alex’s romance coming to life.

“Oh yeah!” Alex’s face faltered, “Shit. It just died.”

“Just get Reggie’s,” Luke shrugged, “But after we get him out!”

After 3 more tries at “ON PULLS,” Alex, Luke, and Y/N were able to get Reggie out, only tearing his jacket on the left side.

“Thanks guys” Reggie said appreciatively.

As Luke patted Reggie back Alex spoke: “Um, hey, Y/N?” He asked quietly, hands in his pocket, “Mind if I steal you for a second?”

“Sure,” she smiled sweetly at him, turning the corner so they could have a little bit of privacy.

“I’m nervous.” He sighed, “ I already spoke to Luke about it before we left for tonight, so he’s already given me all the inspiration he’s got, but I’m still not sure of it all… He took the whole coming back to life hard, but I didn’t think he would take it so hard that he would separate himself from us, from me. ” The boy frowned.

“I think he really liked being a ghost,” Y/N started.

“Yeah and we ruined his whole life,”

“We didn’t ruin his life, we saved it. He’s free, just like you guys. And…” Y/N trailed off trying to find the words, “Hm, well, I think he was just a ghost so long it became a part of his identity, and now that part left him, it must’ve been hard to take in. Should he have been more verbal about needing space? Yes. You deserved that. If you want to tell him that, you should, especially if it’ll help relieve whatever thoughts you’ve got suck up there. I’m sure he will be apologetic if you ask calmly, try to see it from his perspective. And that way he can be empathetic to your perspective as well, you know? On the other hand, you can also take this New Year in stride and just like go to the past and have a good time with him. Or do both!” She put an arm on his shoulder, giving him a warm closed smile.

He nodded taking in her words, trying to remember what she said as she said it.

“You got this, okay? What does Luke say? Step into your greatness?”

“Heh,” he laughed, “Greatness is usually for Julie, awesomeness is mine, not saying that I am awesome though, it’s- it’s just what he says.”

“Well it’s because it’s true. You’re awesome, Alex. Just be open hearted and your awesomeness will shine through.”

“But.. how?”

“Didn’t I- Never mind. Okay, from what I know, Willie already knows you, and likes you, and enjoys talking to you, so there are no awkward first encounters to be made. You’ll see him and all you need to do is be prepared to say hi, that is unless you want to talk to him about the past, and then it will go off from there. I feel it ending up well, I promise. And even if it doesn’t? Show him the food. Everyone loves food.”

“Hi- maybe past- food- got it.” He turned, but Y/N quickly grabbed him.

“Wait, but don’t just think about that. Remember: He’s coming because he wants to see YOU. He wants to spend New Years with YOU. That’s what his message said right?”

“Right.” It seemed Alex forgot.

“So believe it. Live in that message.”

“Okay,” he started to smile lightly, though still a little wearily. “Thanks… He wants to see me, he WANTS to see me, live in it.” He repeated her words.

Alex gave her Reggie’s phone, asking her to message Willie one last time stating that he would be waiting for him by the front of the house by the band’s van. She did so and turned the corner hoping to find both Reggie and Luke, but unfortunately the latter person was not in sight.

“Reg, where’s Luke?”

“Y/N! Meet Amelie Laurent,” Reggie introduced the girl sitting next to him, imitating a French accent as he said her name. “She’s a foreign exchange student from France. She likes my jacket.” He said with a smirk.

Y/N guessed he didn’t hear her question.

“Nice to meet you,” the girl said giggling at Reggie’s antics. “Comment tu t’appelles?” She asked.

“Uh, yes.” Y/N stared blankly, watching the girls face fall, “I’m just kidding, it’s Y/N. I know that much at least.” Both you and the girl laughed.

“Aw look, my girls getting along!”

“Your girl?” Amelie questioned.

“Well maybe not yet,” Reggie winked while wiggling a brow.

“You should get Luke and come hang out with me and Miss Amelie Laurent.” Reggie once again pronounced her name with the most fake sounding French accent he could muster, having fun with how the name rolled off his tongue.

“Speaking of that,” Y/N handed him his phone, “Do you know where he went?”

“Well he didn’t go through the pool door because that’s where my Amelie Laurent came from, so I’m guessing back there,” Reggie pointed his thumb behind him.

“Alright, then I guess I’m going that way. Nice to meet you Miss Amelie.” She giggled, attempting her own French accent.

About 10 minutes had passed. Y/N had walked around to the backyard, upstairs to some rooms, to the dance floor, the kitchen, stopping along the way when Julie and Flynn caught her in their sight till she found herself back by the pool table. Reggie’s banjo and doggy friend was present but not he nor his lady friend, or Luke. Y/N wondered if she should finally try the pool door till she heard a sound, a voice actually. As she walked down the hallway she was just minutes before, she heard his voice.

It was Luke, his tones muffled by the music and talking inside, but she could hear it, it filled her senses, making her heart flutter to hear his singing as it belted a tune much more soulful then the usual pop or rock songs the band sang. He was outside, in the backyard, one of the first places she looked. As she almost reached the back door, she was pushed rather harshly, by someone with wheels, skateboard wheels.

“Whoa! Sorry!” It was Willie. “You’re Y/N right?” He smiled, running his fingers through his hair as he took off his helmet. “I know we’ve never really spoken, but we know of each other.”

“We do,” Y/N said pleasantly.

“I’m glad I finally found one of you, I’m totally lost.”

“Well I think Luke was just outside there, actually.”

“Oh really? God I was going so fast I wasn’t even thinking. Or looking would be correct, right? Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there, sometimes I still think I’ll just go through people. Can’t believe I have to walk indoors now.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Life of the living,” she tried to joke, “I’m sorry. I know it must be strange.”

“Yeah, better than being under Caleb though.”

“Right,” Y/N nodded.

“Oh, sorry,”

“No don’t be. I’ll never know him like you did. No emotional tie here.”

“Um,” An awkward silence erupted, “So since you’re the only one in the group I’ve found you want to play a game?”

“A game?” She asked, confused.

“Yeah!” He raised his brow.

“And what game would this be?”

“The Where’s Alex game. If you have the answer I’ll love you forever. I already know I’m super late.”

“Oh!” she laughed at the realization, “He’s at the front! You didn’t see him? Or see the text?”

“My phone died,” He pulled out the device as proof, the glass was severely cracked, “I’m not sure how to properly take care of it as you can see. No wonder I make it die so fast.”

“His phone died too, strangely enough. But he’s waiting for you at the front entrance. You didn’t come from that way?”

“No, I didn’t know if someone would stop me if I went that way because I wasn’t actually invited. I never really did this kind of thing in the past. It’s my first time.”

“Really? It’s my first too, but for you? You seem so cool to me to never be invited.”

“Well the actual definition of cool and high schoolers definition of cool is wildly different. We’re obviously a different breed, you and I. Better.” He joked.

“Well thank you.” She could tell why Willie liked him. “Alex is by the white van, it has ghosts painted all over it so you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you!”

“Of course!”

As he was about to walk away, skateboard in hand, he stopped, “Can I be honest?”

“Sure.” She smiled nodding at him to continue.

“I’m a little nervous. I know that’s his thing so I should try to get over it, but I can’t help it. This not being a ghost thing has been hard, you know? Is he mad? I didn’t mean to separate myself…” he faultured. Although Y/N knew Alex’s half of the story, Willie and her were still newly acquainted, it made sense why he felt the need to stop himself from possibly over sharing.

“He can’t wait to see you.” She reassured him, ending the silence. “It’s literally why he decided to stay by the front. He wanted you to find him right away. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?”

She confirmed, “Absolutely positive.”

“Alright, thanks again. And nice to meet you! You know, not just by me peering through windows and being creepy. Sorry.”

“Ghosts will be ghosts.” Y/N shrugged. She watched as Willie gave her a laugh and started to walk away.

“Y/N,” the sweet voice from the backyard called for her again, this time saying her name.

“Luke,” her eyes brightened, turning around.

“Found you.” He grinned, intertwining their fingers on both sides.

“Well really I would have found you first. I heard your voice, from the backyard, but Willie stopped me before I could go.”

“Ah, you heard my call for you.”

“For me?” He hummed in response.

“I’ll pretend that’s true.”

“Good,” Luke brought one of her hands up to his lips, kissing it softly. “So where have you been in the last twenty?”

“Well I was looking for you. Reggie said you didn’t go through the pool door so-“

“I did.”

You did?”

“I did! He probably didn’t mention it because he was so focused on-

“Miss Amelie Laurent!” You both said in unison, French accents prevalent.

“He said you went back here so I went to the backyard, but you weren’t there, so I went upstairs back to Nick room, and you don’t want to know what I saw in there-”

“Ooo tell me,” his eyes were eager.

“Anyway, I went back down stairs, found Julie near the kitchen— we shared a cupcake— and then she asked me if I would go to the dance floor with her and find someone to talk to so I did that, but then Flynn can said she lost her bracelet so we three had to look for that one, then I came back to the pool table, heard you singing, bumped into Willie, asked me where Alex was, and then I think he needed some advice— he and Alex are literally having the same problem, it’s kind of cute— and then you finally came. That’s my story.”

Luke's mouth was open, eyes going around in a circle as she went on her tangent, hanging onto every word, he thought it was pretty adorable. “Well, my story is much shorter. When I picked Reggi up, you disappeared.”

“Oh, Alex asked me to speak to him, all we did was turn the corner.”

“I didn’t know, but then some guy from the pool came up to me asked me if I could show him some cords from a phantom song and before I could say yes he was pushing me out the door. I helped him, went back inside, met Miss Amelie Laurent, walked to the backyard because Reggie said you went that way, and there I stayed.”

“If only I went back.”

“We’re good now.” Though a smile still ghosted his face he felt a sudden suppression wash over him, “Are you having fun, Y/N/N?”

“I- Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know… I just know it’s your first party here and I wanted you to have a good time, but at every second someone needs you, or someone needs me, and we’ve been pulled around and around and around,-“ Luke moves his head left to right, a rasp in his voice like a motor engine as he repeated the word for effect, “-that I feel like you’re not letting yourself get into some trouble like everyone else.”

“Trouble?”

“Lack of a better word,” he smiled smugly. “I’m just saying, you’re not Julie and the Phantoms glorified assistant-”

“Neither are you. You’ve done just as much as me tonight.” She reasoned.

“Yeah, but that’s because I was trying to stick with you and lessen the load. You know you do so much for us all the time.”

“I guess I just like you guys too much.” she shrugged, matching his playful tone from before.

“Like just me a little bit more then.” He moved closer, placing his fingers on her jaw, “Hmm?”

He finally kissed her, a real kiss this time. His other hand moved to her neck as her hands moved to his arms. The hand on her jaw lifted her chin higher, deepening the action.

“People are watching,” she said through a breath, eyes alert.

Before going back in he said, “No one's watching,” Then after a peck, “And no one cares.” His hands slid to her waist, head tilting to the other side, he hummed, causing Y/N’s hands to fall to his cheeks, quickly sliding her fingers against his chest; she was lost in the moment.

Slowly Luke’s feet moved backwards, moving one of the hands that was wrapped around his waist to her hip as he motioned her against the wall. “Ow,” Y/N yelped, the black and blue Flynn gave her earlier pulsing again.

Luke’s hand came to her head, cushioning it against the wall. “Sorry, I forgot.”

“So did I,” she laughed.

The both smiled at each other, Luke forehead connecting with hers, he rubbed his nose against her own etching more bits of laughter out of her. He relished in the noises, the closeness, the feeling.

Looking down he noticed their shoes, Y/N’s original chucks in the middle of both vans. He didn’t care what shoes she wore, but he much appreciated how she had to change her footwear for Julie because now they matched… somewhat. The black and white pallets, but different designs; similar, but different; individuals, but connected. He liked it. “Nice shoes, kid.”

“Thanks,” she laughed, “Not what I originally intended, but they work.”

“Work better, in my opinion.” He moved back, extending her arms out as he held her hands. He was surveying how her black dress with white polka dots perfectly matched the color scheme of the converse. “Perfect.”

Once again she blushed, but didn’t respond. Instead she made a remark about his own shoes. “You know, I don’t understand how you wear those everyday, yet they aren’t all dirty like mine.”

“Well I used to be a ghost, when I was walking my feet weren’t actually treading on the Earth.”

“Well that was three months ago.”

“Almost three months ago,” he corrected, for that’s when their official relationship started. Luke always thought she was pretty, right from the moment he saw her, but it wasn’t love at first sight, not even like. She was a little quiet, at least with him and the boys and they all noticed. With Julie and Flynn she smiled brightly and chatted constantly, or that’s what he would hear when he would come to Julie’s room, hearing her voice through the door. It was a sweet voice, empathetic, understanding; he thought it sounded like music, and not only did he wonder how his name would sound on her lips, but he felt connected to it. He understood the desire to make others feel good. Through his singing he tried to make people feel seen, make their problems validated, and he could tell she tried to do that with her words.

For Y/N at first, she wanted Julie to have the band for herself. She thought that this was one of the few things making her feel happy during this dark time of Tía Rose’s passing, so she didn’t want to step in too much, not to mention the realization that she could see ghosts wasn’t exactly the easiest things for her to get her head around the way Julie did. But her elusiveness only made Luke more curious, and when Luke was curious, he was persistent in finding out whatever it was he wanted to know.

First, he would ask Julie to bring Y/N down for their rehearsals and she would, sometimes, but nothing gave. Y/N would most give Julie feedback, shying away from the ghosts gaze, still unsure how to interact. Then, he just started asking Julie about her cousin, little questions here and there till Julie finally got tired and told him to just go talk to her himself. This is where he was at a stand still as he was unsure how to approach her. Finally, after noticing how her room lights would shine quite far into the night, he decided to go up there, telling himself he would just ask her why she sleeps so late, that he only noticed because he likes to take walks at night. It sounded reasonable to him.

This is when he realized how similar Molina’s are: Always trying to be brave for others. After she told him she always had trouble falling asleep unless it was specifically her bed at home, but didn’t want to tell anyone else because it would bother them. She wanted to stay here for Julie and for the friendships she was finally making at Los Feliz, so Luke decided to start a tradition with her: late night bike rides. It was a way to tire her out and a way for him to get some alone time with her. Him taking a bike from the garage, and her using her own she brought from her old home. They rode separately, but together, letting the quiet road open them up to the other. Telling each other stories, discussing interests, consoling each other when they were feeling down. Luke never knew how close you could feel to someone else by just conversation until he had to do it with Y/N. It made him appreciate her in a way he’d never felt before.

They were not friends, they knew that fairly quickly, but they didn’t hurt each other by talking about being more. It was just an unspoken agreement that they hung out with each other exclusively in the way that they did, but they never spoke of romantics. Their rides were special, only for them. That’s why when he became alive the first thing he wanted to do, after celebrating with everyone, was take a ride with her. One bike this time. Her heels on the bars and she heads onto his shoulders, showing her where he used to grow up. That’s what he always wanted to do.

“Not enough time,” Luke said in response to Y/N who mentioned that wearing the same two pairs of shoes for 3 months had to have made them a little messed up, but he was talking about them, thinking about how short of a time ago it was that he got got be with her this way. It was a long year of just knowing her without the sense of touch. He felt lucky. Once again, he dipped his hands on the side of her face, starting to go in till-

“Hey, Y/N! And oh, Luke! Hey man.” It was the New Years Eve birthday boy.

“Oh, hey, Nick,” Y/N said, maintaining a kind disposition although she knew how his actions made Julie feel.

“Um,” he laughed awkwardly at Luke’s stoicism, it was unnatural for his character and even Nick knew that by now, “Well I was wondering if you knew where Julie was. I’ve been looking for her everywhere.”

“Really?” Luke questioned.

“Yeah, I promised her a dance,” he laughed, “or really she promised me one because we all know I suck.”

Y/N laughed kindheartedly at his deprecation. She was still trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. Carrie does have a dominating attitude, and with someone as tender Nick it would make sense that he got roped into whatever it was even at his own party, but looking at Luke’s face and knowing how she felt earlier, she decided to to be upfront, “Look Nick, you don’t have to say anything, but I think you like Julie, and I don’t know if Julie likes you, but let’s say she does: You’re sending mixed signals. I get you and Carrie have a history and that she can be bossy, but you make your own choices. If you want to hang out with a certain someone, I think you should put your foot down and make it a priority to do that.” She tried to be ambiguous, obviously failing throughout.

Nick sighed, “I know… I have no excuse. But that’s why I’ve been trying to find her. I want to hang out with her, do a- I don’t know-“

“‘I don’t know?’” Luke intervened, restating his words, unsure about the possible actions behind them.

“I mean like... New Year's kiss, I- don’t laugh at me Y/N!”

“No! I think it’s sweet. I'm only laughing because I’ve understood your pain, Nick.”

Nick laughed alongside her albeit he was still mostly laughing at himself. Luke kept his grumpy face, eyebrows twitching. “Well if that’s what you want, go get it before the Carrie snatches you up again”

“But even if she does,” Luke started.

“Put your foot down.” Y/n finished “You know, Stand Tall, like the phantoms song.”

“‘Whatever happens’ he snickered, waving his finger as he said the lyric in hopes to ease the tension with Luke, but he was not amused.

“Exactly,” Y/N smiled, paying her boyfriend's chest.

“Right,” Luke agreed, he was really only saying it for Y/N. “Nice basketball sheets by the way”

“Hey, come on, my dad got those for me. It’s nostalgic, you know? Anyway, so I know you guys were busy and I’m sorry that I interrupted anything, but do you think you could help me find her? I really want to find her.”

“Listen Nick,” Luke started once again, it was getting late and he still had a plan he wanted to maintain.

“Y/N! So there’s this gu- Nick, oh-“

“Julie, I’ve been looking for you!” Nick exclaimed, happy to see her.

“You have?”

“Apparently,” Luke answered.

“Well Nick, actually I-“

“Wait. Julie, wait. I- um, I was also looking for all you phantoms actually. I mean I was going to find you and talk to you first and the ask about this later but hey two out of the four are here so,”

“What are you talking about?” Julie asks, hoping he’d get to the point.

“I was wondering if you could play a song? Just one. I don’t have a bass but I’ve got a drum kit on stage already and I’ve got plenty of electrics. The party’s coming to a close and I thought this would be one last thing to bring it all together to make a great night. I know it’s last minute,”

“Nick-“

“Julie.” He stopped, stumbling with his words, till he finally felt sure of what to say, “I’m beating around the bush. What I really need to say is I’m sorry for leaving you. You’re the only one I wanted to hang out with tonight. Carrie- Carrie’s just lonely. If I’m being honest and I promise I don’t mean this in a rude way, but Kayla is just more of her henchman. I know we used to date so it looks strange, but I think I’m her only friend right now. She bought a really grand present and took me away to show it to me, that’s all. I should have stopped to speak to you first though. That’s on me.”

Julie looked down, nodding, “I appreciate that.”

“You don’t have to sing and you don’t have to give me any more of your time tonight if you don’t want to. I’m just glad you’re here either way.”

“I don’t mind hanging out with you... if you actually stick around this time-“

“I will!”

“But singing? I guess I’ll leave that one to you Luke.” Julie said, noticing his expression, lips scrunched up together.

“I- It’s your choice, Jules. Whatever you want.” He said lessening the intensity that was in his eyes, Nick did do what Y/N said after all.

“Let’s sing then. This party has been a little hectic and I think we all need to get our emotions out. Let the New Year come in with good vibes. Right, buddy?” She said tapping Luke’s cheek. “Y/N, help me find the others?”

“Sure,” she said with a sympathetic smile to Luke who she noticed didn’t seem to enjoy that little buddy comment, nonetheless, she joined in: “See ya soon, buddy,” Y/N laughed, letting the ends of her finger tips brush against his till she was pulled away by Julie.

On stage, Julie and the Phantoms rose, singing Finally Free. It had become quite the party anthem for them. The repetition in the chorus made it such a good song for them to engage with the audience. Every time Julie sang ‘I got a spark in me’ the crowd would sing back, throwing their hands up in the process quite literally making the next lyric, ‘hands up if you’re with me’ come true in the most perfect way.

Y/N wished she brought her camera, instead she opted to take out her phone, taking some iPhone shots of the band, hoping the fans would enjoy these raw candid pictures, but then Luke caught her attention through the screen, he sent her a wink, one that the people in front of her probably thought was for them. As he strummed his guitar he yelled a ‘WOOO’ her way, bouncing with Reggie. Y/N decided to put her phone down. This performance was a New Years special, one to only be viewed in person; in the moment; no thinking of anyone else. Finding Flynn in the crowd who was also trying to catch some snapshots of her own, Y/N passed on the energy Luke had given to her: “Lets just have fun!”

Soon after, the song had ended, and despite not being the ‘hologram band’ anymore the Phantoms vanished from the stage, still giving the audience chills as Julie was the one last standing, thanking everyone for being such a great audience. When the gang realized the guys still had some ghosting abilities, Julie wondered if they should stop the whole disappearing thing, saying it would be harder for people to believe, but honestly, seeing the guys at school, at this party, and still watching them turn to dust when the music and cheering ended still amazed the crowd and made it just that more of a spectacle; no one cared for reason, it was simply that cool to see.

Y/N hoped Luke would pop up alongside her, saving her the hassle of searching for him again, but alas, he did not. It made sense to her though, for she was right in the middle of the dancefloor.

She decided to travel back around to the hallway where Nick and Julie had stopped her and Luke before. Walking down the hall, a hand snaked around her arm, pull her into a small closet under the staircase. “What the-” She stopped herself as she looked up and the light illuminated the small area with a click and a pull. Her eyes traveled slowly from the buttery yellow glow of the small light, the hand which pulled on the silvery chord, the shimmering skin of Luke, whose eyes followed her gaze till she met his own. “Howdy.”

“Hey there, partner” she said softy, small breathy giggles coming out of her. “Nice hat.”

“Why thank you, pretty lady,” he responded with a wink, tipping the brown leathered cowboy hat he’d found.

“So what are we doing in here?” She asked, watching him take off the hat.

“Wanna play seven minutes in heaven?”

“Like in 13 going on 30? Is that the kind of game you played in your 90s parties?”

Luke rolled his eyes at her comment, moving on, “I decided that our friends are not going to leave us alone tonight, so I want just seven minutes. No interruptions, just us.”

“I’d like that.”

Luke took out his phone starting a timer on his phone, “Yeah,” he nodded as he moved closer to her face, “me too.”

Lips on her own, he moved his hand to the back of her head, remembering her black and blue and he softly placed it against the wall of the small space, removing it once there.

As her head leaned eagerly against it, the rest of her body was slanted, legs in between his own, he moved his arms to her waist, hands going up her back, while hands went up to his neck, going in to play with his hair.

“Y/N?”

The sound caused her to jump, banging her head for the third time. “Ow.”

It was Flynn.

“Luke!”

It was Reggie.

Now Julie came over, “Is Y/N and Luke in there? Guys?!” H-“

“No!” Luke yelled.

“Hey!” It was Alex, hand in hand with Willie. “Are they coming out? It’s-“

“Five minutes!” Luke yelled out again. He slid out his phone from underneath the door. “In fact, reset it to seven, give us seven.”

Reggie took phone, “But Luke you didn’t notice the ti-“

Luke bagged on the door, “When it rings, that’s when you can give us your requests.”

Y/N covered her mouth, giggling at his aggressive tone.

“Come here,” he motioned her with his hands on her hips, lips once again reconnected. As they started to move backward again, Luke moved his hands higher, picking her up, motioning her to wrap her legs around her waist, Y/N tried to catch her breath as their lips fell a part in the action, “Not this time,” he whispered in her ear, the vibrations of his voice making her shiver. He crashed his lips onto hers again as his hands went lower on his hips, supporting her on his frame. He swiped his tongue on her lower lip in an attempt to deepen the kiss further. Thereafter, their lips were connected in open mouth kisses, Luke taking control of the action.

“We just wanted to say Happy New Years, it’s 12:03.” Reggie uttered quietly at the bottom of the door, petting Nick’s dog that found him again. Y/N and Luke didn’t answer him, he figured they were too busy engrossed in each other.

“Happy New Years, beautiful.” Luke sang to Y/N, sighing out, admiring the way her eyes looked into his, realizing that he completed his mission after all.

“Happy New Years, Luke.” She breathed out, planting her lips on his once more. One hand on the side of his face as the other went back to his hair, rejoicing in their closeness, finally, uninterrupted.

Thank you for reading!

Tag list: @lolychu @marinettepotterandplagg

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke jatp #luke jatp fic #luke jatp imagine #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagine #julie and the phantoms fic #luke julie and the phantoms

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peaceisadirtyword · 4 years

Text

Move On IV (Modern!Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello!💕 I don’t even know how I managed to finish this with the crazy week I’ve had💀 I had 3 exams, a huge paper to hand in and a presentation. But somehow, I did this too and I wanted to post it as soon as possible🥰 I’m quite happy of how this one turned out considering I hadn’t that much time to work on it. So I hope you like it!♥️ There’s not many parts left (2 or 3) but I have an idea for a “sequel” so if you guys like this one, maybe when it’s done I’ll work on that!

Now enjoy, stay safe and enjoy the holidays, even if this year isn’t the best one for celebrations😅 See you soon🥰

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, angst, implied Hvitserk x Reader, don’t kill me for this lol

Words: 4179 (I’m sorry)

Move On II III

gifs belong to @therealcalicali and @honestsycrets

You actually liked to go shopping. You enjoyed walking around the shops and looking at beautiful clothes and shoes. You didn't like to try on the clothes, though, because the comparisons between the model on the photos and you were awful.

"Aren't you gonna try that on, Y/N?"

Torvi's voice startled you. She just got out of one of the fitting rooms, wearing a beautiful silver dress that made her look even better than the model. You widened your eyes.

"I... Don't think this will fit me" you glanced at the clothes they made you pick. Party clothes; tight dresses, short skirts, low cut crop tops... "I'm more of a comfy sweatpants and oversized hoodies girl" you raised an eyebrow.

Torvi chuckled, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.

"Come on, Y/N, I want to see how you look on them!"

She looked at herself on the mirror, frowning softly. You looked at the pile of clothes on the wooden table and wondered why you agreed to go shopping with Torvi, Gunhild and Lagertha when you could be at home, eating cookies and watching Disney movies with Hvitserk.

They insisted on going shopping and then go and grab lunch. As you barely had any social life anymore, you thought it'd be a great idea. Then they entered one of those expensive shops that you could only admire from afar and glare with jealousy to the people that exited the store with a couple of bags.

"Okay, I think this is the one" Torvi shrugged happily "What do you think?" She turned around and you smiled softly.

"You look beautiful"

"Thank you" her smile widened "You're the sweetest, Y/N"

"Are you girls done?" Lagertha's voice startled you, her head peeked through the door.

"Nearly" Torvi winked at her "What do you think about this dress? Y/N likes it"

"I think you look perfect on it" Lagertha smiled at her ex daughter in law. You were still amazed with the narrative of that family, but it wasn't your place to judge "What about you, Y/N? Did you try anything?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but Torvi interrupted you.

"She didn't, I keep telling her she should, but she won't listen" she raised an eyebrow and you groan, rubbing your face.

"Come on, we're not leaving until you try something on" Lagertha chuckled.

Sighing, you rubbed your face and grabbed the clothes, rolling your eyes as you entered the fitting room, making Torvi and Lagertha smirk in victory.

_________________________________________

"So... We could go out" Torvi looked excited as you stared at your lunch. You had nothing against modern, expensive restaurant but you weren't sure if it was legal that they asked that amount of money for that.

"We're already out, Torvi" Gunhild chuckled. Out of all of them, she was the one you could relate to the most, she was the most calm, the quiet, but also as fierce as Lagertha if not more.

"I know" Torvi rolled her eyes "But maybe we should go out to a nightclub, you know, I haven't been out in forever and I want to, this whole 'plan the perfect wedding' thing is stressing me out"

"You don't need to plan the perfect wedding, every wedding is perfect when you're in love" Lagertha raised her cup of champagne softly, and you chewed at your food slowly.

"I know, I know, I just... Ubbe is the one, you know?"

"We know, Torvi" Gunhild smiled widely at her "But you see... My own wedding with Björn was quite rushed, and still... Magical" she blushed softly, looking down.

You smiled, remembering her wedding. You had attended with Ivar, who wasn't too excited to go to his half-brother's wedding and was nearly obligated by his family. The two of you left very early, but not before having sex on the limousine Björn had rented.

"I know you will have the same thing with Ubbe, I can see it" Lagertha caressed Torvi's hand over the table.

"Okay stop getting emotional, I know what you're doing" she narrowed her eyes at them "Can we go out, please?"

They laughed, and even you chuckled softly.

"Y/N, I trust you, don't leave me alone" she pouted at you "Tonight?"

"I'm afraid I work tonight" you smiled apologetically "But you all can go out! I'm sure you'll have a better time without me"

"No, we need you" she sighed "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I suppose tomorrow is fine..."

"Perfect!" She giggled.

"I'm afraid my time on nightclubs is already over, girls" Lagertha laughed "But I wish you have a great time, enjoy your youth"

"I think I can" Gunhild nodded "But I'll leave early"

Torvi looked satisfied.

"Okay, I can call Sigurd's new girlfriend too"

"Sigurd has a girlfriend?" You raised an eyebrow. You didn't know anything, but as you barely talked to him due to his bad relationship with Ivar, it didn't surprise you.

"Yeah, I met her when we had dinner with them to tell them about the wedding... She's cute, and nice... It looks like our dear Sigurd finally settled down... Ubbe was relieved to hear about her, he was really worried that the rockstar life was too much for him"

Even Sigurd, the now semi-famous musician that girls pursued after his gigs, the soft and sweet Sigurd that had had nearly as many girls as Hvitserk, had settled down. He had an stable relationship. You, on the other hand, had a shitty job and spent your nights watching Disney movies.

You kept eating as Torvi talked about her favorite clubs, trying to decide which one was more suitable for a girls' night. But suddenly, someone entering the restaurant, and your eyes widened. Torvi stopped talking and Lagertha raised an eyebrow, turning her head to look at the door.

Of all the people you'd think you might run into on a posh restaurant, Aslaug wasn't one of them. She looked as beautiful and flawless as always, with her hair tied on an elegant bun and her subtle makeup that made her pretty eyes stand out. Ivar had his father's eye color, but the shape was much more similar to his mother's. They resembled each other, and it made your stomach turn.

She looked around the restaurant, and when her eyes found yours, she looked surprised. An strange expression crossed her face, but she flashed you a sweet smile. Aslaug seemed cold and distant to most people, but to you she was always sweet and caring, treating you like the daughter she always wanted but never got.

Her smile turned a bit stern when she looked at Lagertha and Torvi, ignoring Gunhild. Then she turned to the bar, smiling politely at the waitress.

Then the eyes turned to you. You cleared your throat nervously and avoided them. It was true that, out of Ivar's family, the only people you had a close relationship with were Hvitserk, Aslaug, Floki and Helga, and sometimes Ubbe, even if that changed when he decided to get closer to his half brother and Lagertha. Now things had changed, and you still felt a bit out of place in this new social circle Alfred had introduced to you, but your link to the "enemy" was much stronger.

"I... I'm going to say hello" you muttered.

No one said anything, and you nearly felt sick. When you arrived to the bar, Aslaug was talking to a man next to her. You hadn't even realized he walked in after her, like her favored son, she had the gift of making everyone aware of only her presence by just walking in a room.

"Hi, Aslaug"

She turned to face you, her face lightened up and her smile widened. This time it reached her eyes.

"Y/N, my sweet girl, hello" she hugged you tightly, and you sighed, hugging her back. You missed her "I was wondering if you'd say hello... How are you, my dear?"

"I'm fine" you nodded "How are you?"

"I'm good, honey, I'm so happy to see you, I was worried when you..." She licked her lips, nervously "I called you a couple of times, but you didn't pick up"

"Oh, yeah, sorry about that... I kind of neglected my phone for a few weeks"

"I understand" she nodded. If anyone in the world understood exactly how you felt, it was Aslaug "I truly do, Hvitserk has been talking to me about you, I'm glad you haven't completely cut off communications with my family, we need you"

"Of course" you giggled "Hvitserk is one of my closest friends, and that won't change"

I hope, you thought. You kind of felt very replaceable.

"I'm glad to see you" she repeated, the smile never left her lips "Remember you will always be welcome in our home, Y/N"

"Thank you, Aslaug" you nearly teared up "I think I should go back now..."

"Yeah, go and have fun, dear" she caressed your cheek softly, not even mentioning the people you were with "Goodbye"

"Bye, have a good day" you shot her another wide smile.

______________________________________________

Thora looked impressed when you arrived to the cafeteria with Torvi, Lagertha and Gunhild. She was polite to them, but it was obvious that she was surprised to see you hanging out with them.

'Wow' was the only thing she said once they left, making you promise you'd wear the dress you had bought that morning to the club the night after.

"Don't even mention it" you groaned, rubbing your face as the both of you got ready to start your shift.

"I didn't take you for someone that had brunch with these people" Thora held back a laugh, and you hit her arm playfully.

"They're really nice" you muttered "They're just trying to make me feel better"

"Yeah, they seem nice, but... Are you sure you fit in that group, Y/N?" She raised an eyebrow "Don't get offended, but I never pictured you in there"

"No, I don't" you sighed "As I'm seeing Alfred now, I suppose they see me like one of them"

"You're seeing..."

"Not like that" you glared at her "Shut up, we're just friends"

This time she didn't hold back the laugh.

"I went on a date with Hvitserk" she cleared her throat, and you looked up at her again, interested.

"And?"

"Nothing, he's just not my type" she shrugged, making you groan.

"He likes you, I know it" you winked at her.

Thora shook her head.

"Hvitserk is the kind of man that likes everyone" she laughed "It's okay, he's nice and fun, but not what I'm looking for... I have another date tonight, though, with a guy I met on Tinder"

"You're on Tinder?" You frowned as you kept drying the coffee cups.

"Yes, and you should too" she giggled when you widened your eyes at her "Come on, Y/N, you're young, hot and cute, stop thinking about a boy that didn't appreciate you, you deserve to spend your nights having orgasms, not chocolate ice-cream"

"But I like chocolate ice-cream" you muttered.

"More than orgasms?" She chuckled, and just when you were about to answer, she interrupted you "Don't answer, you're weird" she rolled her eyes.

Hvitserk surprised you at the end of your shift with a bag full of beers. He had brought his car and offered you a late night with beer, chips and reality shows. As it was probably the best plan you could have, you said yes, and opened one of the beers even before entering the car. You saw Hvitserk glance at Thora as she stayed to close the cafeteria and wait for her date, chatting with a girl she knew from university that visited her at work.

"You should work a bit for it" you said, raising an eyebrow at him as he drove to your home with a poker face.

"She's not interested" he shrugged. As Hvitserk wasn't used to having girls reject him, it had hurt his pride.

"But you can make her interested if you do things right" you chuckled "You Lothbrok boys are always waiting for girls battling their eyelashes at you"

Hvitserk laughed.

"You're right, what can I say? I'm surprised you didn't battle your eyelashes at me yet"

"I was busy with your brother, Hvitty" you giggled "Until he got tired of me"

Hvitserk's smile faded slowly, and as soon as he could, he put his hand on your thigh, turning to look at you.

"How are you, Y/N?"

"I'm fine, it's okay" you muttered, shrugging "I saw your mother today"

"Yeah she told me" he nodded, his attention back to the road "She also asked me not to say anything to Ivar" he sighed "It's because she doesn't like Freydis, she came home for dinner the other day and I could swear she would have loved to sink the knife on her neck" he held back a smile.

God, you loved Aslaug.

"Why? What happens with Freydis that no one likes her?" You asked, curious.

"You've seen them together, haven't you?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, briefly... Alfred and I left immediately, I barely talked to them"

"Ivar is infatuated with her" he sighed "He's lost his mind, Y/N, he's not even rational now, his whole world is Freydis, it's not love, it's... I'm worried about him" he frowned "He's changing, he can't see anything past her"

"Have you tried to talk to him? Maybe he needs a bit of big brother guidance"

"I can't talk to him, he's... He doesn't listen. No matter what I tell him, he doesn't trust me"

"Ivar has a hard time trusting people" you said softly "Maybe..."

"Don't defend him" he glared at you "I know what you mean, but he's known her for a few months, Y/N, and he's pushing away every single person that was important to him, he's not even going to physical therapy anymore"

You frowned a bit. Ivar hated therapy, but he always understood he needed to do it. Suddenly you felt the need of texting him.

"Stop worrying about him, Y/N" Hvitserk narrowed his eyes "It's my job to worry about him because he's my little brother, but you can forget about him now"

When you arrived home, Hvitserk went directly to the kitchen to heat up the sandwiches you had taken from the cafeteria and put the beers in the fridge as you entered your bedroom, sighing tiredly.

"I'm going to take a shower" you raised your voice, and after Hvitserk hummed, probably with his mouth full of food, you entered the bathroom, closing the door and taking off your clothes.

The warm water relaxed your body and you were able to finally stop thinking, leaving your mind completely blank.

It didn't last, though.

As soon as you left the shower, you unlocked your phone, looking for Ivar's contact. The last text messages you had exchanged were from the last days of your relationship. Ivar didn't like to text, so he usually only replied with monosyllables and then called you to hear your voice, but in those last weeks he hadn't even replied. In that moment, you had tried to convince yourself that it was normal, that he might hadn't feel like texting you, but then he had broken up with you. Scrolling down the messages, you could tell exactly the day he had realized he wasn't in love with you anymore -if he had ever been in love, which you started to doubt-. You let your throat ache and a couple of tears run down your cheek before wiping them away and writing the message you had in mind.

Hi Ivar. Are you okay?

You didn't think he'd reply. But after hearing people saying how weird Ivar was acting (even more than the usual) and how Freydis had changed him, you started to wonder if he was okay. No matter how much he hurt you, he was still someone you cared deeply about.

A knock on the bathroom door startled you.

"Y/N? Are you alive?" Hvitserk sounded a bit worried as he knocked on the door. You cleared your throat and dried the few tears on your face.

"Yes! Sorry! I'll be out in five!"

____________________________________

The beers didn't last as long as you thought. It was past midnight when Hvitserk convinced you to open the bottle of vodka you had bought months ago and already forgot why.

It resulted on a blurry night, as the both of you started feeling more and more happy, you watched stupid movies and laughed at them. You forgot about Ivar, the text and the ache in your chest. Hvitserk was the only one that could make you forget everything and laugh so much.

"Come on, that never happens" Hvitserk groaned, rubbing his eyes with his voice already a bit unsteady. The brothers had a high alcohol tolerance, but Hvitserk was always the one that got drunk first "The girl never runs back to us, we're the ones that have to chase them"

You giggled drunkenly, hitting his arm.

"Yeah, we have to make you work for it"

He rolled his eyes, drinking directly from the bottle now.

"It's always easier to go out to a pub and have sex with another girl"

You giggled again. For some reason, every single thing he said felt like the funniest thing ever.

"Yeah, we can do that too" you smirked "For example, as you don't want to work for Thora, she's now out on a date and probably having sex with another guy while you're in my apartment getting drunk and criticizing terrible movies... Who's losing now?" You raised an eyebrow, smiling in victory. Hvitserk frowned and glared at you as you laid back on the couch.

"Are you saying I should go out and find someone to have sex with?"

"No" you giggled "I'm saying you should call Thora tomorrow"

"Anyway" he scoffed again "You should be the one going out to have sex"

"Me?" You laughed "Why?"

"When was the last time you had an orgasm, Y/N?"

You closed your eyes and pressed your fingers against your temple. It was hard to think when you had that... Noise in your head.

"I can't remember" you muttered "Probably before..." You hummed. He knew what you meant.

"What?" He widened his eyes, and his jaw dropped "It's been months, Y/N, what the hell?" He groaned "You didn't even touch yourself?"

You were so drunk that you didn't even flinch at his question.

"I don't have time for that" you frowned.

"Well, now I know why you're always pouting and looking like a lost puppy"

You opened your eyes to glare at him, even if you only saw a blurry bulge on the other side of your couch.

"I don't pout" you scoffed "And I'm just not ready to get to know someone new, Hvitty"

"You don't have to know them, you just need to fuck them" he shrugged "It works, you know, it helps to move on... In fact, this is what you should do; you should go out, pick someone, take them to my flat and fuck them on Ivar's bed"

You couldn't help the burst of laugher that brought tears to your eyes. Hvitserk looked amused.

"I'm serious, that should teach that asshole a fucking lesson, he needs it"

"I miss him" you muttered when the laughter died down "I texted him"

You couldn't see it, but Hvitserk sighed and rubbed his eyes. He moved then, startling you when he laid down next to you, hugging you softly. It made you smile.

"You need to stop, Y/N" he whispered then, and the lump in the throat came back "You really need to move on, you're amazing, and there's so many people in the world that deserves you much more than my stupid brother"

"I know" you sighed "But I want him"

Hvitserk hummed. He knew the feeling. He also knew you'd get over it, with time, but now it was difficult.

"That's why you need to go out there and enjoy your youth, Y/N" he drank from the bottle again, making you laugh "Get drunk, have sex and stop living like you're fifty and getting over your second divorce"

"Sounds easy when you say it" you giggled turning around to face him.

"You just need to do it" he muttered. Your eyelids already felt heavy, and when you opened your eyes, you saw Ivar. You didn't even know why, Ivar and Hvitserk didn't really look alike, but in that moment you saw him, his deep blue eyes staring at you, his pouty lips, his cute nose... Even that nervous expression he had whenever the two of you were alone. Your heart started beating faster and faster, and you felt his arms around you. You could even smell him. Oh, gods, you missed him so much. You would give anything, your own life, just to be able to kiss him again, even if it was for the last time.

So you just leant in and kissed him.

He kissed you back, but that kiss didn't feel like Ivar's... This one was much more rushed, it was good but... It lacked Ivar's passion and intensity. It wasn't the same.

Anyway, you kept kissing him, as his hands roamed up and down your body. You might knew you were kissing Hvitserk, but decided to ignore it. Maybe he was right and you just needed someone to move on.

_______________________________________

Ivar just glared at his phone. He had been glaring at it for the past two hours, since Freydis left, saying she was meeting some friends that night. Then he checked his phone and he nearly dropped it when he saw your name on his screen. Why were you texting him now? He thought you hated him. It was easier that way.

He rubbed his face, groaning and laying back on his bed. His legs hurt so much that day... No matter how many painkillers he had taken, how much he rested. He was feeling like someone just ran over him with a truck.

Hvitserk didn't come home either. Not that it made a difference. The long nights they spent drinking cheap beer and talking about family and life were long forgotten. They weren't as close now. He was probably fucking someone he just met, or getting drunk. Did he mention he'd go to your house to see you? Maybe. Ivar had stopped listening whenever your name came up, trying to avoid that rage he felt the last time he saw you, getting all cozy and giggly with Alfred. The fucking Alfred.

You always insisted he was only a friend, but he knew better, if he hadn't left you for Freydis, you'd probably have ended up leaving him for Alfred. He was better for you anyway.

Hi Ivar. Are you okay?

Why did you care? Were you thinking about him and suddenly wanted to know if he was okay? Did anyone say anything to you?

He had to hold back a smile when he saw your profile picture. It was you in Iceland, hugging one of the huskies Floki had on his house in Skógar. Freki, the husky you had fallen in love with, was infatuated with you, too, and Ivar found very amusing how he would follow you anywhere, trying to get your attention. It reminded him of himself, actually, annoyed when you diverted your attention to something that wasn't him. Ivar had a serious talk with the dog, explaining him that he wasn't allowed to get into bed with you, let alone cuddle you in your sleep, the only living being that could do that was Ivar.

He took that picture one morning you decided to take Freki for a walk. The husky had been so excited to see you that he had knocked you down to the floor, making you laugh. The picture had you looking at the camera, hugging Freki as he tried to lick your cheek.

When he locked his phone again, the warm tingling on his chest disappeared. It made him sigh, closing his eyes. Freydis was perfect, wasn't she? She was beautiful, sweet, she loved him. She made him understand he was special, that he needed no one but her.

She was perfect. She was the one, and she loved him as much as he did, she always said it. At least a few times a day, she smiled sweetly and said that she loved him, so that meant she loved him, right? You didn't say it that much. But then again, you would have never left him alone knowing he was in pain.

Shaking his head, he unlocked his phone again and wrote a quick text.

Yeah, thanks.

Then he deleted your number. He didn't want to see that photo with Freki, smiling at him, he didn't want to think about you or about what you would have done. You weren't part of his life anymore.

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @thevikingsheaux @therealcalicali @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 @gruffle1 @justacripple @love-dria @heartbeats-wildly @letsrunawaytotomorrow @inforapound @sallydelys @hellogabysblog @hecohansen31 @youbloodymadgenius @xinyourdreamsx @funmadnessandbadassvikings @eteramfools @tgrrose @flokidottirsstuff @lovessce @tootie-fruity @didiintheblog @alexhandersenx @belovedcherry @fantasydevil2002 @xceafh @astrape-the-weatherwitch @destynelseclipsa @poisonous00 @littlebear423 @xbellaxcarolinax @soleil-dor @geekydane-post @katarokkar11 @crackhead1-800

I hope I didn’t forget anyone :( if I did please tell me

#ivar imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar x reader #modern ivar #vikings #vikings imagine #modern vikings

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pallasperilous · 4 years

Text

Boneless Wings

{AO3 version}

So, blah blah blah, it’s their standard-issue disaster: pack of dumbass witches (always with the dumbass witches. Where do they find the time for this shit? Somebody get these women signed up for a Peloton subscription or a macramé class or a vibrator of the month club, seriously, whatever it takes—), ancient curse, Castiel being the actual angel of stepping in it, nobody cares.

The point is, two hundred and forty-one hours of binge-worthy drama later, Dean and Cas are living in a semi-detached just a short thirty-minute commute to somewhere equally lame, Castiel has two literal-ass wings, and yes, Susan, they kiss now.

The neighbors are weirdly cool with it.

For those of you perving along at home, Dean could absolutely provide a list of the hundred or so ways that having a boyfriend* with giant fucking actual wings is super hot and/or awesome.

This is not that list.

(*you can just shut right the fuck up , Sam, because it’s either this or Dean will start saying lover. And nobody needs that. Nobody wants that.)

1. Bird mites. Holy shit.

2. Sharing a bathroom. The shower curtain rod, and consequently the security deposit, are early casualties. The medicine cabinet follows swiftly behind. Shower hijinks are not even an option.

3. Dean comes home one day from a gig and there is a giant plastic green turtle in the backyard. A closer inspection reveals that the turtle is actually a mule for about half a truck bed of industrial dust ‘n grit. It is, in fact, a kiddie sandbox. Dean points out that they do not, in fact, have a small child (FINGERS CROSSED), so...?

Cas then earnestly shows him an entire playlist of exotic birdy dust bath videos on Youtube.

Dean then earnestly shows him the garden hose.

4. The down just gets, like...everywhere. EVERYWHERE. How many times have Sam and Dean practically sold their kidneys for a single angel feather for some dumb spell to solve some pointless Occult McProblem? And now Dean is picking them out of his damn teeth every morning. (No, gross, not because of... Jesus, no, that is not a thing.)

On the upside of this one, Dean finally has an excuse to buy a Dyson, which he’s secretly always thought looked awesome. It is.

5. When Dean is scraping out the umpteenth canister of fluff he jokingly suggests they use some of it to supplement the tragically flaccid down comforter currently shaming their bed, and Castiel pitches an existential fucking sulk. Dean wants to experience happiness again, so he does not point out that it get ass-bitingly cold here this time of year, and decent bedding is not exactly inexpensive, and the Dyson kind of maxed them out on household purchases.

But whatever.

6. Castiel is indulging in what Dean thinks of as a sky pout when he flies right into a head-on with li’l Timmy NextDoor’s new Christmas surveillance drone. It dings the shit out of one of Cas’s left primary feathers (the scientific term is “those big motherfuckers”), which apparently hurts like a bitch. Cas is grounded for a few weeks after that and is cutely pathetic about it and at first Dean is absolutely down to kiss it better. By the end, Dean is almost ready to strangle Cas with his own necktie, but he has learned a lot of surprisingly interesting stuff about ancient Mesopotamia, like that it was super horny.

7. After the snow melts, Dean starts finding shit on the front step with the morning paper. It’s not even a good newspaper; Cas signed them up for the local fish-wrapper (or maybe it was Sam, before he fled for the hills— he occasionally breaks out in a “support local journalism” rash). The crossword puzzle is insulting, but the paper does at least syndicate Carolyn Hax, whom Dean secretly suspects of being an absolute wildcat in the sack, so he grudgingly expends the calories to bring it in every morning.

Anyway, at first the stuff he discovers crapping up the welcome mat is just shiny bits of trash — couple granola wrappers, some MGD pull-tabs, a few field-stripped twisty-ties. Probably just windblown, and he tosses it in the garbage can.

Then a couple weeks in, things start getting...grisly? It escalates real slowly, from a variety platter of mouse bits to squirrel à la power line and then half of a dry-aged raccoon and an opossum that has recently graduated from playing dead to professional dead-being. The neighborhood crows obviously love that their front step is now a roadkill café; Dean has to bat increasing numbers of them away with the kitchen broom in order to relocate their horrible snack to the edge of the nearest storm drain.

Then one morning there are like twenty crows and they’re in just the cutest little football huddle-up around what turns out to be a human fucking finger with a retro-fun mood ring still on the knuckle (it’s feeling: Sad) and Dean fully loses his shit.

Cas hears him freaking out and comes whomping out of the garage ready to, whatever, flap somebody to death maybe, but as soon as he establishes that Dean doesn’t need anything more than a fresh pair of boxers, he de-poofs a bit and assesses the whole human finger/crows situation in his usual infuriatingly unrushed way. The crows had mostly bounced up to the cable line over the house, safely out of brooming range, but one by one they start to drop down and hippity-hop back towards the world’s tiniest crime scene.

If Dean were five percent less freaked he’d be tempted to go inside and find out how much of a dent he can make in a six-pack before Castiel finally dings and spits out his results, but he isn’t, so he just stands there in silence clutching the broom like it’s a shotgun.

Eventually Cas says “hm,” and then he looks at the crows and makes some noises that sound like a spoon caught in a garbage disposal, and the crows make some scrawps and chuks back, and then one of them delicately noodges the tip of dead finger with its beak and then hippity hops back a foot or two, bows, and then they all fly away over the shitty little beige duplex across the street like they’re running ten minutes late to an important bird appointment.

Castiel stands up (Dean reflexively backs up into the doorway, as this involves Cas bomfing out his wings a bit for ballast and Dean has caught a blow to the nuts on more than one occasion), dusts off his goddamn slacks, pulls a plastic evidence baggie out of thin goddamn air or maybe his socks, and casually bags the finger like they’re doing a standard FBI wheeze. “So what,” Dean says, as Cas diligently zips the baggie, “the fuck?”

“Oh,” Cas says, blinking in surprise that Dean is still there and interested, “they think I’m their god.”

Dean kind of stares back at him, the six feet of dude and like sixteen feet of bird, and thinks sure, okay, but his face must still be stuck on “Tippi Hedren attic scene” because Cas puts a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder and adds “Don’t worry. I’ve told them I don’t require further offerings, and I reassured them that you’re my consort and were simply jealous of other potential mates.”

It takes Dean two weeks to come up with a response to that, but by then it’s become evident that no bird is ever going to shit on the Impala again, so he decides to just chalk it up in the win column and move on.

You know. The family business.

8. No matter how tightly he folds them, Cas can’t fit his wings through the definitely-not-up-to-code doorway of the wood-paneled family rec room in the basement, so Dean claims it as his man cave and dubs it the “No Fly Zone.”

Castiel doesn’t find this funny, but Dean really only uses it to fold laundry.

9. Transpo is an obvious issue. Cas can almost stuff himself into the Impala if he sort of reverse-cowgirls the back seat, but then the wingtips smoosh up against the windshield and Dean’s visibility is approximately zip. And, sure, Cas could fly himself anywhere they really needed to go, he’s basically a Chevy Of The Air, but sometimes it’s raining, and the seraph Castiel — Shield of God, Heavenly Soldier of the Lord, multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, will smell like a wet fucking chicken for days afterward. Febreze does not help.

Dean spends a few nauseating weeks contemplating the purchase of — and here he learns that the human gag reflex can be conditioned, but never truly eradicated — a convertible. Once Cas brings up the possibility of a minivan or perhaps a station wagon (he’s taken to studying family motor vehicles with all the intensity of a birder with a life list) and Dean makes him sleep on the couch.

Dean gets his own living room rotation after he shows Cas a Craigslist posting for a very reasonably priced horse trailer. Castiel points out that it’s used and Dean notes that neither of them is exactly mint in original packaging either. Castiel points out that he’s not a horse, and after a few necessary but admittedly unoriginal jokes, Dean pulls up a website with an exhaustive photographic tutorial on how to convert a horse trailer “for the safe and sanitary transport of ostriches, emus, and/or cassowaries.” Cas points out that he’s not an ostrich, emu, and/or cassowary, and Dean counters that he clearly isn’t, because an emu would probably show a little more gratitude, and that’s how Dean learns that the couch has a broken spring under the left cushion. The transpo issue remains unresolved.

10. Dean keeps a pair of shop-grade safety goggles by his side of the bed. It’s not the sexiest look, but it turns out feathers are stabby as hell when encountered at a particular angle. Cas can do the healy thing, of course, but they learn the hard way that cornea perforation is not really a mood enhancer. On the bright side, Castiel accidentally corrects Dean’s incipient presbyopia, which means Dean doesn’t have to hold the newspaper at arm’s length anymore when he’s idly speculating what Carolyn Hax looks like below the neck. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

11. You’d think that, when you’re coming down from a time-limited but incurable curse that makes you feel like every cell of your body has its own cute little individual headcold — because you missed a hex bag due to the fact that you were preparing your legal response to Sam turning up to the hunt wearing a goddamn hair scrunchy, as if he were fresh off the set of a very special episode of Clarissa Explains It All — anyway, you’d think that being wrapped in the warm embrace of an angel’s wings would be nice.

But you would be wrong, because apparently your boyfriend has been out communing with the bees again, and those feathers pick up ragweed pollen like it’s their goddamn job, and guess what else angels can’t cure? Dean will take Motherfucking Seasonal Allergies for 600, Alex.

12a. One of the neighbors has that homesteading hippie brain disease that drives an otherwise normal-seeming person to brew their own beer and raise a bunch of chickens despite living within five hundred yards of a fully functioning Hy-Vee. There’s a week where one of the wee little velociraptors seems to be processing some kind of trauma because it starts yelling at dawn and keeps going until well past the hour that swearing is allowed on network TV.

When Dean finally hammers on the front door the next afternoon the neighbor apologizes with some extremely nasty home-brew (HIPPIES) and some absolutely devastating weed (HIPPIES!) and explains that “Ginger is going through a rough molt” and then he kind of nods his head towards Dean’s side of the fence where Cas is futzing around in the squash plants and stage whispers (this is a direct quote) “You know how they get.”

Dean is about to rip the dude a new one for comparing his immortal space-kaiju lover to a fucking Australorp yard pullet when Castiel pops his head up over the white pickets and breezily contributes “Bad molt, yes, those are terrible, Dean can tell you all about how insufferable I am those weeks,” and sometimes Dean just doesn’t know why he even tries.

12b. The less said about angel molt, the better.

Seriously, the freakin’ eyes-on-his-hands naked mole rat dude from, whatsit, Pan’s Labyrinth of Subtitles, would run screaming from this shit.

13. There’s a 4th of July BBQ Potluck Block Party and Dean’s inability to stand idly by while good meat is abused ( shut up Sam ) means he winds up manning the grill and dismissing the pretenders to set some strictly inedible things on fire. Cas hangs out next to him and uses his flappers to kinda whupf the smoke away from Dean’s eyes now and then, which rules. It’s actually a pretty chill event until Sharon and Don From Number 4267, The Green House With The White Trim, turn up with a giant Pyrex full of naked, still-marinating teriyaki wings.

Sharon And Don look down at their wings and then up at Castiel and then down at the wings and then up at Castiel and they are clearly teetering on the edge of a Midwestern politeness failure-based nervous breakdown. But then Cas, smooth as a margarine commercial, gently takes the dish from Sharon’s frozen hands, examines the contents for a silent moment, and says “it’s alright. They weren’t personal friends.”

He gets an extra burger for that one.

14. Cas keeps absent-mindedly trying to groom Dean — who, in case it still needs to be said at this point, possesses zero-point-zero feathers of his own — so he goes after Dean’s hair, instead. Dean has to stop him after his second hour of trying to straighten out a cowlick. “I don’t understand how you can steer properly with this deformity,” Cas says, as if it’s a genuine miracle that Dean isn’t constantly careening over ottomans like Dick Van Dyke. He’s even more horrified by Dean’s (frankly minimal) use of hair gel. “Jesus, Cas, it’s not like I’m drinking it,” he says, but then one time they have an epic make-out session shortly after Dean performs his masculine beauty rituals and there’s some smearage of various types of Product (tm) on the flappy areas.

And, sonuvabitch, for the next six hours Cas is spirographing around the house like he has a heavenly inner ear infection, and he only stops veering into the doorframes after Dean wipes down every. Single. Feather. With mineral oil and about eighteen clean shop cloths. Dean switches to something called hair wax, which costs thirty zillion times more per ounce and makes him smell vaguely like church, but is a lot less gloppy. The things we do for love.

15. Seating inside the house is a bit of a conundrum, too. Cas can kind of flop his wings out to the sides if he sits in the middle of the couch, but then Dean’s stuck on the recliner, which is basically in the next county. Bar stools are disastrously tippy, Dean’s lower back and hips have not endured mumble-mumble years of hunting just to be subjected to a damn beanbag chair, and, after a brief flurry of optimistic excitement, Dean determines that they’d have to take the front door off to get a massage chair in. He finds a swing online that if, he can get the hardware properly installed in the crossbeam, is rated for up to 500 pounds, so he texts Cas the URL so he can check out the specs. After half an hour he writes back —

CASTIEL: Dean

CASTIEL: I believe this swing is intended for sexual congress.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: I can infer from the ellipsis that you have spent several minutes attempting to draft a response.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: Dean

DEAN: it’s multipurpose

16 . On the plus side, though, big-ass wings make for a pretty good drying rack. He can get every sock in the house laid out on those suckers in a single round and, one episode of Dr. Sexy later, they’re perfectly dry and toasty warm, without any of the pair-busting casualties Dean has learned to expect from the apparently socknivorous dryer in the basement.

Dean assumes it’s just the product of good air circulation and body heat until he realizes that he hasn’t had to toss a pair for being too worn out in...maybe six months? So he asks Cas “Are your wings... healing the socks” and after an entire Abbott and Costello routine centering around heal versus heel, Dean determines that the answer is: yes, his boyfriend’s wings are channeling the almighty power of Heaven to magically repair the socks Dean buys at Target in twelve-pack bags. On sale.

This is actually kind of sexy, if Dean is being perfectly honest, so, you know what? It doesn’t belong on this list.

16. So nobody really freaks out or bursts into tears or calls the news or the FBI or anything when Cas goes out in public with him, which Dean is secretly a little disappointed about, because come on. (Maybe giant wings just reads as a gay thing? Was there an episode of Will and Grace about this that Dean missed back when he was ass deep in wendigos or something?)

But no. Dudes tend to just glance at them across the Home Depot parking lot, throw them the Mutual Dude Acknowledgement Nod, and say some shit like “Comic-con,” or “nice anime” in a knowing tone. Then they go back to rolling their carts full of gaskets or hammers or whatever back to their mom’s station wagon.

Little girls tend to go googly-eyed — Castiel seems to fall into the same category as a Disney princess, despite the stubble and the drabcore wardrobe, and Dean can’t count the number of times some mom has approached Dean at the grocery store (like he’s Castiel’s manager?? Which, okay...yeah, actually) and asked if they do birthday parties. The money would actually be pretty tempting if Dean weren’t five thousand percent sure that Cas would get them both arrested by launching into an anatomy lesson about duck sex or how God is a loser who favors relaxed fit jeans and Wild Turkey.

The worst is white ladies of a Certain Age, and it always seems to happen in the pudding aisle, for some reason. They either go cross-eyed with horniness and become indiscriminately handsy (Dean can’t blame them for the impulse, but also back off, Karen), or ask Cas for prayers for their cat’s chronic asshole problems (which Castiel WILL take seriously).

Worst of all is when some hippie spinster clocks them. This woman inevitably reaches right for the feathers and asks in a willowy voice if they’d ever consider turning some of them into dreamcatchers to sell at her studio, which is literally always named The Faerie’s Glen. Then Cas gets confused about why, exactly, a sixty year-old WASP in a peasant skirt would need to call on the infant-protection powers of an Ojibwe spider goddess, while Dean just wants to bite the lady’s fingers off.

Either way, it’s always a bad scene, and many fully loaded grocery carts have been lost to the fallout.

17. For some metaphysical reason Dean is too dumb to suss out but also too smart to question, lugging a pair of Cessna-sized flappers around this mortal dimension actually seems to tucker Cas out. He doesn’t need to zonk out every night, but he semi-regularly throws in the towel and actually crawls in with Dean for the duration.

This would be swell in theory, but the guy absolutely cannot settle the fuck down in less than three (3) human hours, which is the exact amount of sleep Dean requires to maintain his famously sunny demeanor. It’s not just ye olde tossing and turning — Dean can handle that, sharing a bed with Sam is like sleeping next to a kangaroo with restless leg syndrome — no, it’s a nonstop parade of little flippy-flappies and shiffle-shuffles and spontaneous outbursts of preening.

So Dean makes him a Baby Sleep Sack.

This is something Dean knows about due solely to one super dumb hunt involving a banishing sigil that had to be drawn in — he still feels like this had to be a misprint — human breastmilk, and that was obviously not happening. But the monster of the week wasn’t going to banish itself, so they wound up at the nearest Walmart, at 4am, picking up what turned about to be an unnecessarily generous supply of baby formula, along with a fresh box of shotgun shells because God bless America*. It doesn’t work, although “lots of stabbing” turns out to be a solid fallback plan, but the point is that while Sam was debating between Digestion Support or Neurological Development, Dean acquired an unprecedented familiarity with some of the products currently available to the sleep-deprived parent. So Dean finds some DIY Baby Sleep Sack knockoff patterns online and determines he can replicate and scale up the concept with some beach towels and duct tape, and the next morning he presents the lumpy but totally functional prototype to Castiel.

Initially Cas thinks it’s a sex thing (reasonable, it probably is), but once they clear up that misunderstanding, he’s obviously a little peeved by the concept of being swaddled as if he were a gassy baby instead of a deathless sky monster in a sexy dude-shaped can. But Dean must be giving off some serious man on the edge vibes because Cas grudgingly agrees to let Dean tape him up the next time he’s feeling dozy.

It’s real awkward and takes forever to get Cas bundled up right, and then he’s just kind of lying there on top of the sheets, like an enormous, grumpy baked potato.

“I could easily break out of these restraints,” he says in a pissy tone after Dean has crawled in and turned off the light, and Dean rolls over to tell him “no shit”, but then he has to stop himself because the guy is already asleep.

Eventually they upgrade to a version made out of some of those trendy weighted blanket things, a few yards of parachute silk, and a whole lot of velcro. The dude looks so damn peaceful that Dean is honestly a little jealous.

*he doesn’t, actually.

18. There’s a sunny afternoon that isn’t the usual Kansas is trying to murder you level of humid so Dean rolls the Impala out into the street for a wash. Cas helps him out a bit initially, although tragically not in a way that involves removing any unnecessary articles of clothing, but Deans sends him to grab a new tub of wax from the shed and he never comes back. After half an hour Dean needs a beer break and goes looking for him, expecting to find Cas lost in thought over whether Turtle Wax is made of actual turtles, or is made to put on actual turtles. Instead he finds Cas crouched on the shimmering pavement at the back of the driveway, sun beating down on him like it has a personal vendetta, and he’s got both wings stretched out real low above the ground. Dean kind of flips out because it’s the type of pose that just screams “stabbed in gut by angel blade” or “migraine from Hell, literally.”

Then Cas looks up, which pulls his wings up a smidge too, which in turn reveals that fully half a dozen neighborhood cats are lounging in the shady patch beneath his wings, spread out on the concrete like blobs of furry peanut butter. No, it’s actually eight cats. There are eight cats.

“Ling-Ling was feeling a little overheated,” Cas says, as if this explains everything.

And, you know what, at this point, it does.

19. Dean has faith that eventually Sam or Cas or the third demon from the left in the second row will turn up a solution for the whole business. Castiel will get to tuck those bad boys back into the secret wing-closet dimension and he won’t have to worry about getting stuck in stairwells anymore, or being reported to the FAA (again). Then they can finally pack up the house, plaster over the more egregious spots of drywall damage, and go back to killing things outside of the tri-county area. The whole thing has been a pretty embarrassing interlude for a couple of dudes who’ve kicked Satan’s ass multiple times — Sam is probably telling other hunters that they’ve been deep undercover to take out a nest of suburban vampires, or a pack of ghouls with mortgages, instead of vacuuming angel down out of the AC unit and considering a Costco membership.

And sure, there have been some...serious pluses to the situation (see: the other list), but, in his weaker moments, Dean has to admit that he’s kind of going to miss some of the goofy, irritating shit, too — like finding a six-inch feather in the veggie crisper (how? why?), or watching Cas fwap his wings out just in time to accidentally clothesline a jogger, or even the strangely compelling, sorta cheesy smell that starts to float around the house if Cas goes a little too long between hosedowns.

He has actually grown fond of this shit. Which is 100% the least sexy thing on earth, it’s some genuinely, seriously pathetic goo goo crap, and that’s why nobody will ever hear a fucking word about it. People will ask “so what’s it like, with the wings” and Dean will waggle his eyebrows suggestively and review the highlight reel over an inadvisable amount of rail whiskey. His secret’s safe with, well. Him.

20. Seriously though, the bird mites.

Gross.

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