#not like I care anyway. it’d be very funny if someone approached me over it tho lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ukai-simp-services · 3 years

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just tonight

oikawa tōru x fem!reader warnings: smoking weed, cursing, degrading/humiliating, nsfw and smut ofc, corruption kink, slight biblical references, y/n is kinda bitchy, voyeurism, temp/heat play, high during intercourse, choking, dumbdification. a/n: i literally don’t even like smoking or care for it at all BUT THIS FUCKING IDEA CAME TO MY HEAD AND OOOHH BOY. so here’s an alternate universe oikawa being a mf bad boy stoner with piercings and tattoos, and lowkey an asshole.

fake friends, fake fucking friends, you thought to yourself. you were standing outside of the loud - practically vibrating - club. the one that your friends invited you to; yet here you were, alone while they were driving away with sloppy looking men that just wanted to hook up with them.

bass-boosted music rang through your ears, while the ground you walked on literally shook from the bouncing club. you felt a wave of goosebumps rise on your skin, the dress you were wearing was a little too short and it didn't help that the sleeves were spaghetti straps. it was only the beginning of summer, a late june night with a chilling breeze. not to mention, you were two fucking hours away from home, you had no car and a dead phone. the best you could hope for was that someone was kind enough to call a cab for you, or an uber - but there was no one around, except for the people inside the club that you could no longer enter.

“someone looks lost~” a low, yet teasing voice came from behind you.

you whipped your head around; taken aback by the sudden voice, but felt slightly relieved when you were greeted by the presence of a young man.

“yeah, i guess you could say that...” your voice was timid as you trailed off, still nervous of this unknown man gracing your presence.

“’s not safe for a pretty girl like you to be walking around this area with that lost look on your face, you could attract some bad news.” he stepped closer and closer to you, almost hesitantly.

“like you?” you cocked an eyebrow back at him, gesturing to the array of large, black tattoos littering his arms.

he clicked his tongue at you, ”should someone like you really be judging others by their looks?” the stranger got uncomfortably closer and you could see that his eyes resembled a warm brown color and his fluffy hair matched them. his face certainly didn't match the rest of his appearance.

“someone like me? i look exactly like what i am, a girl who's stranded with no phone or car and could use a nice person to call her a cab home. get lost, creep.” you practically spat back.

you spun on your heel and began walking away, you half expected him to chase after you and snatch you into the darkness of an ally, and half expected him to just give up and walk away. your speed-walking was put to a halt when he did neither of those things, when he started laughing hysterically. you spun around quickly out of curiosity to see him doubled over, crouched down on the ground trying to get a grip on himself.

“what's so funny?” you were both pissed and skeeved out, what the hell was this asshole creepy laughing at you for?

he began wiping the tears from his eyes dramatically, “nothing, sorry. it’s just that girls like you are so stereotypical. always looking down on men like me, always thinking you're better than everyone else. it’s just kinda funny instead of insulting.”

you were at a loss for words, did you really come off that bitchy? and didn't you have a right to? he was the one lurking in the shadows.

“i'd call you a cab, but i left my phone at home. i could go get it and come back?”

somehow, you weren't convinced he’d let you go that easy. something about his tone when he first approached you, was just too teasing and insinuating.

“no thanks, i can find someone else to call one for me.” you nervously tugged at the chain on your purse, you knew that was a damn lie. the streets were empty, and this man was your only hope.

he smirked, a knowing look planted on his face. he wouldn't push, but he knew you'd have to resort to his help in the end.

“suit your self.” he treaded away slowly, eagerly expecting your plea to come.

you furrowed your eyebrows slightly, he wasn't going to keep pushing you? was he not just saying how unsafe the streets were for a young girl like you?

“actually- wait.” you stammered hesitantly, embarrassed that you needed his attention again.

he turned around swiftly, a small smirk gracing his lips - smugly trying to hold back a grin.

“i'm sorry, could you please call me a taxi?” you failed to notice his sly expression.

“sure thing, but will you be safe here on your own while i get my phone?” he feigned the worry in his voice and the twinkle in his eyes.

you bit your lip, hesitant to pick your next words.

“how long would you be?”

“should be a 10 minute walk there, another 10 minutes back.”

“so, 20 minutes?”

“yes, around 20.” the mysterious man toyed with something between his long, slender fingers, barely giving you a glance.

“oh...” you looked around awkwardly, you thought 20 minutes might be too long. who knows what kind of person would approach you, plus it felt like the breeze against your so very exposed legs was getting colder by the minute.

he looked up to catch your nervous gaze.

“of course, you could join me on the walk, wait outside my house when we get there.” he pursed his lips, making it look like he had just thought up the idea with no further intentions.

no, no fucking way you would go with him.

but in his gaze, you caught something. a glint in his eyes; trust, comfort.

your better judgement faltered as you lost yourself in the charm he held in his eyes, the start to many more risks you would take that night.

despite his eccentric look; piercings littering his ears, leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up, obscene tattoos and all black attire - he had a deep warmth in his eyes. and you may have felt so stupid in the moment, but you found yourself trusting that warmth.

“okay, can't be worse than staying here alone right?”

he chuckled, “right.”

but were you actually wrong?

the walk to his apartment was quiet, mostly because you were nervous he was gonna snap and pull a knife out and murder you in an ally.

“you know, you don't have to walk 10 feet away from me, right?” the guy looked over his shoulder and squinted his eyes at you.

you bit your lip, deciding to stride a little closer to him - making a more comfortable distance.

“i don't even know your name, mystery man.”

he chuckled, stepping to the side a little to give you more room to walk.

“neither do i, mystery woman.”

“wouldn't you like to know, i asked first anyway.”

you were now walking by his side, a little more confident than you were before. your fingers held themselves behind your back, purse still hooked over your shoulder.

“it’s oikawa, tōru oikawa.” his eyes flickered up to yours, hopeful for you to open up and tell him your name too.

“told me your full name huh, i guess i should too.” you rocked on your heels nervously. you were still uneasy about telling him your full name for some reason, but when you looked into his orbs of warm chocolate brown, you felt like you could trust this man with your life.

“l/n y/n.”

he smirked, looking up ahead at the road again, “pretty name, definitely suits a pretty girl.”

you rolled your eyes at his sudden flattery, he seemed to do a lot of that - you noticed.

the two of you continued walking for a few more minutes, casual conversation bouncing off each other. you noticed he began to slow down his faster walking pace when you both reached a tall apartment building.

“we’re home.” he winked at you.

“oh shut it, don’t take too long please. it’s so cold...” you hopped from foot to foot and rubbed your exposed biceps with your hands.

oikawa thought for a moment - running his tongue over his teeth while contemplating how to make what he was about to say not sound creepy.

“why don’t you come in with me? it’d only take a second and i don’t trust the people around this area to leave you alone out here.”

you paused for a moment, you were usually very street smart and would know exactly how to avoid this situation. if he were any other guy, you’d just say ‘no thanks, i can handle myself’ and refuse his offer - but his eyes, why were you so allured by his eyes? what was it about him that you trusted?

“it’s okay if you’re uncomfortable, i’ll be quick and you can wait out here-“

“no, wait. i'll come, just...don’t pull anything weird, kay?” you were readjusting your purse on your shoulder as you hesitantly stepped closer to the apartment door.

“of course, i’d never.” there was a glint of mischief in his eye after the words left his lips, but you didn’t notice it.

after oikawa let you into his apartment, you were greeted by the strongest smell of weed in your life - and a lot of loud talking and laughter. you were just about ready to turn on your heel and leave.

“sorry ‘bout that, my friends are really loud.” oikawa apologized and locked the door behind you.

you waved him off, dismissing his apology. you didn’t care about his loud friends, you were just bothered by the disgusting scent of marijuana that hit your nostrils. you wouldn’t tell him that though, at least not yet.

you followed oikawa into the living room; also known as the source of where the horrid smell was coming from. the room was dimly lit and felt bigger than it looked. there was an L-shaped brown couch in the center of the room being occupied by 3 men - seemingly the same age as oikawa and yourself.

“hey guys, this is y/n. she got lost and needs me to call her a ride home. do you guys know where my phone is?” oikawa spoke to the men in front of you, they all seemed to immediately drop their conversation the second oikawa walked in.

“nah man, i dunno.” a boy with short light brown hair spoke up while twiddling a blunt between his fingers.

oikawa sighed and ran a hand through his hair, quickly scanning the room for his phone before looking back at you.

“wait here for a sec while i go look in my room, kay?” he raised an eyebrow at you before hearing your response.

you would’ve snorted at the tall man with tattoos and ripped jeans using the term “kay”, if it weren’t for the intimating group of men staring you down at the moment.

“sure.” you forced a nod, signaling oikawa to exit the room.

you looked around the room awkwardly, hands clasped together against your thighs. you weren’t sure how long he would take, and you certainly weren’t up for small talk with these ‘troublesome’ looking guys.

“take a seat, we don’t bite.” the man with messy black hair and thick eyebrows chuckled at you.

yeah right, “that’s ok, i-“

“i insist.” his voice was deep and his eyes were burning holes into your own. you weren’t sure how someone so high could come off so serious.

you swallowed down your nerves and took a seat on the far right of all the boys on the couch, plopping down next to one of the quieter men; he had spiky black hair and wore a denim jacket.

“so, ‘kawa’s picking up strangers off the street n bringing 'em into our apartment now, eh?” the man next to you spoke up, plucking the blunt from his friends fingers and placing it between his own lips.

the light-haired man laughed, following it with a cough from previously inhaling the smoke, “wouldn’t be much of a surprise, knowing him.”

you wrinkled your nose at their laughter. you tried to be polite, you really did, but you simply didn't belong here; didn't belong in a room with these ‘delinquents’.

“i am not, ‘from the streets’, for your information. i don't even live around here, i was just clubbing with my friends, but they-”

“yeah yeah, we get it. you're a typical stuck-up girl who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.” the light-haired boy (it would really help if they told you their names) mocked you in a high-pitched voice.

“i'm not stuck up, i just-” he kept cutting you off.

“oh please, the second you walked in here, you were sticking up your nose at us, looking us up and down with a disapproving glare. you're just that kind of girl, face it.”

the messy-haired man chuckled lowly at his friend’s joke and added, “just oikawa’s type!”

“that's enough, you two.” the quieter man next to you spoke up for a second time, giving the other two men a threatening glare.

you swallowed awkwardly as the room became quiet, only the soft sounds of sucking in smoke from the blunt being passed around were heard.

you were busy absentmindedly picking at the polish on your nails, a nervous habit, when a small orange glow next to your head caught your eye.

“you wanna hit?” the guy next to you was holding the blunt out for you to grab, the strong smell getting a little too close to your nostrils.

you scrunched your nose at his offer, shaking your head to further decline.

“no thanks, i don't really do that stuff.”

the spikey-haired male nodded - accepting your decision and taking an extra hit himself, when you heard a chuckle come from behind him.

“god, she really is a prude.” the voice of the impudent light-haired man spoke again.

you were just about ready to bite back a reply, but the man sat in-between the two men with the deeper voice beat you to it.

“makki, bet you 10 bucks she was only at that club for a half-hour before she was beggin’ her friends to go. that's probably why they ditched her stuck-up ass.” the boys cackled in unison at their stupid jokes. if they weren't pissing you off so much, you might even had found their cackles funny.

“makki, mattsun, shut your mouths.” the man next to you rose his voice slightly. you were thankful that he was sticking up for you, but there was no way you'd let it go without defending yourself.

“ha, sorry that i actually have my life together and don't need a mind-altering drug to live my every day life. you guys are the pathetic ones, not me.” you laughed bitterly at them. what you were saying was only half true; you didn't have your life together and you couldn't care less if people that weren't you did mind-altering drugs, but you did think they were pathetic.

3 pairs of eyes widened in your direction in response your bitchy remark, they knew they had it coming - yet they were still surprised to hear it.

“please, humble yourself sweetheart. you aren't any better than us for not doing drugs.” the man with dark hair, presumably mattsun, laughed coldly at you whilst leaning further back into the cushion of the couch.

“yeah, you're only missing out.” the man called makki chimed in.

“missing out? oh please, on what? a fried brain? smelly breath? black lungs? yeah, i think I'm doing just fine.” you leaned back against the couch, content with the newfound confidence you held. you weren't normally this snappy with people you first met, so this was quite a shift in your usual dynamic.

this time, all three boys laughed at you, this included the quieter man who's name you still did not know.

“oh darling, you're cracking me up. just say that you're a prude and go, you're honestly embarrassing yourself.” makki pushed your argument further.

“yeah, you shouldn't knock something before you try it. just because you're a virgin doesn't mean you have to act-”

“what makes you think that im a virgin? what does weed have to do with my sex life, like at all?” your voice was getting defensively higher and you were now leaning over the man in between you and makki and mattsun to get your point across.

“you're not a virgin because you don't smoke weed, but you don't smoke weed because you're a virgin.” makki put it bluntly, staring straight at you with a completely blank face. the two boys next to him chuckled at his stupidity. you were completely dumbfounded.

“you're joking right? this has to be a joke. you can't seriously think that i’m some prude who's never had sex before just because i've never smoked weed before - and never will.” you were crossing your right leg over your left now, lifting your posture significantly to get a better look at the men.

“actually, sweetheart. that's exactly what we think.” mattsun glanced over at you, half-lidded eyes burning into your own.

you felt a shudder run through your body at the nickname, trying your hardest to push down the heat rising to your cheeks and somehow maintain your snarky persona.

“i-”

“found my phone- what is going on here?” oikawa entering the living room interrupted your retaliation, suddenly becoming confused with the obvious tense atmosphere in the room.

“tch, your little prude of a friend over here just called us pathetic for smoking weed.” makki rolled his eyes before placing the blunt between his lips, it was now a quarter of the size it was before when you first entered the home.

“only because your asshole friends were calling me a prude and a virgin for not smoking.” you snapped back immediately, turning your body to face oikawa to make your point.

“asshole friends? that isn't very nice now is it, sweetheart?” mattsun teased you again, using the same nickname that you were shamefully flustered by before.

you opened your mouth to argue back, but oikawa interrupted your spiteful words with a long laugh.

“i knew you were a stereotypical stuck-up girl the second i met you, didn't i y/n? this comes off as no surprise to me.” oikawa’s arms were now crossed and he was eyeing you down from his standing position above you.

“oooh, her name is y/n. just sounds like a prude’s name.” makki proceeded to torment you.

“come on asswipes, be gentlemen.” the quieter man next to you spoke up again for the first time in quite a few minutes.

“sorry, iwa-chan, but i’m gonna have to side with makki and mattsun this time. if y/n wants to act like a little prudent brat, then she’ll just have to be treated like one.” oikawa stepped closer to your spot on the couch, a teasing lilt to his voice.

you were flustered by how fast oikawa’s personality had shifted, he had alluded you to think he was a charming, trustworthy man not even 20 minutes ago. where was that energy now?

“such a stuck-up brat, probably gonna live to be a perfect little virgin mary, yeah? never gonna compromise her health, never gonna sleep with a man, and never gonna commit a sin, isn't that right?” oikawa now stood directly in front of you, legs brushing against yours with your head at eye level with his crotch.

you hesitated for a moment, contemplating if your pride was really worth doing this.

of course it was.

“pass me the fucking blunt.” your head whipped towards makki, holding your hand out towards him, praying to god that he couldn't see how much you were shaking.

makki widened his reddened eyes at you while trying to figure out if you were being serious or not.

“are you deaf? let me take a fucking hit.” your eyes were dead and cold, boring into his surprised ones.

“alright... now that's what i like to see.” makki’s lips curled up into a smirk as he passed you the medium-sized, glowing blunt.

everybody’s eyes were on you as your held the object between your thumb and your pointer finger, mimicking the movements you've seen others do so many times before.

“you sure you can handle the smoke, darling?” oikawa’s voice was anything but caring and sweet, it held a mocking tone laced with faux sympathy.

no, you were very sure that you couldn't, but you were too stubborn to go back now. your pride was on the line and you would be damned if you didn't prove yourself to these four men.

you looked up at oikawa through your thick lashes, placing the blunt between your lips at the slowest, most seductive speed.

“i'm a big girl. i think i'll be alright, kay?

oikawa let a low chuckle out, still staring down at you from his tall position above you with his head slightly tilted to the side.

“we’ll see about that.” his voice came out deeper and smoother than it had before.

you wanted so badly to prove to these assholes that you weren't as prudent as they made you out to be. sure, you were a little pretentious and always stuck your nose up in disapproval when your friends did similar actions that these boys did, but secretly, you always wished you could let yourself loose like everyone else. you were raised to be a perfect, well-behaved girl, so you've always kind of stuck by that title for as long as you knew. just going to clubs, like you did tonight, was totally out of your comfort zone. if tonight was going to be the one night where you let yourself loose, then there was no reason that you couldn't do this, right?

you seemed to underestimate how many hits it would take for a lightweight like you to get even the slightest bit high, all you wanted was a little buzz - just to get these dickheads off your back.

it was only after coughing up an entire lung after your two first hits, that you realized that this might've not been such a good idea.

you set down the glass of water that iwaizumi - the only nice guy out of the bunch - got you from the tap. you were four hits in and absolutely miserable. your entire chest felt on fire and to make matters worse, you didn't even feel high yet - not like you would know what that felt like, anyway.

“nuh-uh, that's enough for you.” oikawa quickly snatched the blunt from your fingers before you could react.

you rolled your eyes, not wanting to back down from what felt like a competition.

“pft, look who's the pussy now.” you reached to grab for the small piece of blunt left in oikawa’s hand, but your slow reaction rate caused you to miss horribly.

“i’m not a pussy, i just know what'll happen to a light-weight like you. if you over-do it you're bound to get sick, and the last thing i need is some random girl who pushed her limits to lose her shit in front of me.” oikawa’s words were harsh, but a playful smirk was planted on his lips.

you weren't having it.

he was right, you had pushed your limits - and oikawa didn't know the half of how stubborn you were. you weren't about to let the guy that was just making fun of you for being so prude, to change his mind and withhold you from proving yourself.

“thanks for the advice, but i promise you i can handle myself.” you spat back at the man hovering over you, proceeding to snatch the blunt back from his hand.

oikawa chuckled and shook his head at you, deciding to take a seat on the coffee table in front of you.

“suit yourself.”

you continued the assault on your lungs; taking long hits of the remainder of the blunt, coughing hysterically, drowning yourself in water, then repeating the process again. you'd think the group of boys would have some complaints about you hogging the last few hits of their weed, but they just sat back and reveled in the sight of you struggling to keep up your pride, entertained at the sight of your flushed cheeks.

it wasn't until you were sucking at practically nothing that you realized you'd finished the blunt, still unsatisfied with the lack of buzz you felt.

“wow that was exactly what I thought it would be, a total waste of money and lung health.” you laughed dryly, leaning back onto the couch in discontent.

“not your money.” mattsun rolled his eyes at you.

“just wait till it hits, she’ll be fucked.” makki laughed loudly at your expense, nodding his head in your direction at mattsun.

all the guys chuckled in unison, they seemed to do that a lot through out the night.

“glad our weed was just a waste to you, maybe buy your own next time.” oikawa’s eyes held mischief in them as they glared at you, a playful scowl on his lips.

“oh i’m sorry, did i waste your precious weed?” you jutted your bottom lip out in a faux pout, your eyes containing an unintentionally seductive glint in them.

oikawa narrowed his eyes back at you, feeding into the little game you were starting.

“yeah, I think you did. how ‘bout you pay up for it, hm sweetheart?” he leaned over his lap, forearms resting on the tops of his thighs and his face nearing closer to yours.

your mouth opened to retort something back, but words failed to come out as your vision started becoming hazy and an urge to laugh started sprouting in your stomach. you couldn't contain the laughter that spilled from your mouth, cheeks heating up and body beginning to feel numb.

“yeah...she’s gone.” iwaizumi chuckled.

oikawa smirked at you, his face still so close to yours that you could faintly feel the warmth of his breath on you.

“no i’m not...” you let out a few more giggles as you felt a numbing feeling take over your arms and legs. you slapped your legs in hopes to regain some feeling in them, giggling once again at how heightened your senses were becoming.

“oh god, wasn't expecting to have to babysit today.” makki groaned from the other side of the couch.

“you literally aren't doing anything.” mattsun prodded back at him.

“true, this is oikawa’s problem now.”

the chesnut-haired man chuckled in front of you, pressing his hands to his knees as he pushed himself off the coffee table.

“there's no way i’m letting you get in an uber tonight, come with me.” he held his hand out in front of your face.

your mind was on a whole different level than his. your vision felt extremely clear, you couldn’t help how your eyes trailed over every tattoo and vein running down oikawa’s hand and forearm right in front of you - mouth unapologetically agape at the sight.

“come on, don't give me a hard time, yeah?” his voice sounded smoother than you ever heard it, it echoed in your brain and overstimulated your senses. you wanted to hear more.

“no.” you pouted, reddening eyes glancing up through your lashes to lock with his.

“no?”

“no.” you were firm, or tried to be, another fit of giggles threatened to bubble out of your throat.

he cocked an eyebrow at you, clearly not following your message.

“want...oikawa...” you were unable to finish your sentence, your brain suddenly forgetting what words were supposed to come next.

he leaned down to your height with his hands propped up against his knees, face merely inches from yours. he held a permanent smirk on his lips and his eyes teased you with faux seduction, oikawa almost always knew what he was doing.

“want me to do what?” his voice was lower than usual, softer too.

“need...” you knew you needed something, you just couldn't think of what.

“yeah? keep going, baby.”

you furrowed your brows in frustration, your brain was a little too hazy for your liking and the small bit of rationality that you still had inside you was getting fed up with how stupid you were acting.

“kiss.” you blurted out, then bit your lip and dropped your gaze as if you just exposed a secret that you weren't supposed to tell anymore.

“a kiss where?” he taunted you, bringing a finger underneath your chin to lift your gaze to his once more.

what felt like a few seconds to you - was almost a full minute in real time, of you staring up at oikawa; mouth agape, eyes hooded, not saying a word.

“everywhere.” he almost couldn't hear you, because of how soft your words came out.

oikawa didn't show it, but his stomach erupted in warmth at your words, that same warmth flooding down to his crotch. he bit his tongue before responding to you, he knew damn well you were in no state of mind to be making these decisions.

but you just looked so pretty sitting below him like that; eyes lidded with the daze from your high mixed with lust, lips parted, and legs crossed to cover up the growing wetness coming from your core.

“mmm, tempting, but i don't particularly enjoy taking advantage of women while they're high.” he sighed, shaking his head in hopes it would get rid of his lewd thoughts.

you pouted in return. sure, the buzz from your high was strong, strong enough to make you regret how bold you were acting when you woke up tomorrow, but not strong enough to have sex with someone you had no interest in. no, you had been looking him up and down all night long. you wanted this, the buzz just gave you the confidence you didn't have before - and who were you not to take this opportunity?

it wasn't just the lack of rationality from your high that made you want this from him, it was the heightened senses. every time you were close to him, everytime his eyes gazed over yours, you felt a million sparks burst through out your body. you were convinced that the second he touched you, your skin would ignite with flames.

you grabbed his hand, pulling him back in to destroy the distance he made between you two.

“i know what i want, and i've wanted this the whole night. despite what you think, i’m not some virgin mary. so are you gonna continue to act like a little pussy, or are you going to fuck mine?”

a gasp was heard from the right of you, makki. he quickly slapped a hand over his mouth after oikawa sent a glare his way.

“and what happens when you regret this tomorrow?” he raised an eyebrow down at you playfully.

“something tells me that, that won't happen... unless, you're saying that it's short?” you questioned him with a gaze that fluttered down to his crotch, then back up to his eyes.

oikawa had to hold back the growl that threatened to escape his lips, and the hand that twitched in anticipation to squeeze your throat.

“oh, it’s most certainly not.”

you had expected oikawa to take you back to his room, at least.

you didn't think he'd wrap his hand around your throat and push you up against the couch right there.

right in front of makki and mattsun.

right next to iwaizumi.

you struggled against the strength of oikawa’s death grip around your neck, unsure if your hazy vision was from the loss of air you were getting or the impending high from the weed.

“you said you wanted to be fucked, right?” oikawa’s words were laced with a venom you hadn't heard from him before, his eyes sadistically glaring down into yours.

you opened your mouth to respond, but your words were cut off with a harsh cough from the painful position you were in.

“c’mon ‘kawa, at least loosen your grip a little.” iwaizumi’s voice of reason brought a warmth to your chest, suddenly grateful for his presence.

oikawa smirked above you, moving his hand from its grip on your throat to mindlessly caress the outside of your breasts, thumb pressing against the material of your dress where your nipples would be.

“fine, but only ‘cause iwa-chan said so.” you glared up at him, your competitive nature fighting the fear of him choking you again.

you cleared your throat, well aware of the burning sensation still evident in your wind pipe, “i said i wanted to be fucked, yes, but not in front of your friends.”

that earned a chuckle from makki and mattsun - and a smirk from oikawa and iwaizumi.

“but i thought you wanted to prove you werent a little prude, i thought you would want to prove my friends wrong - or are you a coward like i predicted?” his thumb and middle finger were now pinching your nipple through the thin material of your dress and your bralette, making you squirm underneath him.

you could feel what you only assumed to be the peak of your high reaching, it was making every touch and every word from oikawa feel and sound 10 times better than it would've before. at this point you were willing to fuck him wherever he wanted.

cheeks flushed, and eyes averted to the side - away from oikawa’s face, you muttered a “fine.”

“what was that, sweetheart? i can’t hear you.”

“i said fine.”

makki joined in on the teasing, “wait, what did she say oikawa? i cant hear from all the way over here.”

god, you couldn’t stand these fuckers.

“i said, it’s fucking fine. jesus chri-” your aggrivated screams at the men were soon cut off by oikawa’s tight grip on your jaw, a searing kiss pressed against your lips soon following.

“enough talking, you need to take my dick now.” oikawa was breathless after engaging in the fiery kiss, he was soon found ripping off your dress.

you felt it, you felt the peak of your high approaching. everything felt so fucking good; his hands grazing your body as he ripped your dress off, the burning stares of makki, mattsun, and iwaizumi, and the empty buzz in the back of your head - it all made you feel breathless.

oikawa noticed your dazed out face, he hadn't even fucked you yet and you already appeared to be full of bliss.

“no fair, she’s high out of her mind and i’m sober. do me a favor and roll me a blunt while i eat her out, makki.” oikawa pouted above you, continuing to discard your clothing while he waited for makki to prepare him a blunt.

you may have been peaking, but your mind jumped at the thought of oikawa eating you out. you were suddenly becoming extremely aware of the situation at hand again.

“i- are you sure about-” you stuttered, shaky hands from the numbing feeling of your high came down to grip at the soft panties you wore that oikawa was attempting to rip off.

“‘s the matter? has our little virgin mary never had her pussy licked before?” oikawa smirked down at your burning body, both burning in embarrassment and in an immense amount of desire.

you decided to stay silent, gaze averting to the side once again.

oikawa wasn't having it, he gripped your chin with his free hand - pulling your gaze back to his.

“you were all bark before, where's the bite? don't disappoint me now, y/n” his gaze was intense, to say the least, and your body still felt like it was floating from the peak.

you swallowed the thickness inside your throat, building the small amount of courage you had left.

“i can bite, and i will.” you looked up at him with complete malice, and he mirrored your expression, adding his trademark smirk to his lips.

“we’ll see about that, little one.”

the unexpected nickname had your head spinning, you were quick to feel a familiar heartbeat thumping down towards your core.

you soon felt extremely aware of the way he was touching you, head lowering down towards your thighs, gently pushing your hand away from its grip on your panties.

it was true, you hadn't been eaten out before. you only had sex once and your boyfriend at the time finished in 30 seconds, tops - leaving you unsatisfied and humiliated.

but oikawa felt different, even though the sex was initiated to save your pride - a competitive desire to prove yourself to people you had just met - you could tell that behind his teasing, he cared about your pleasure. it showed in his small touches; the way he gently caressed your skin before ridiculing you, the way his eye flickered up to yours before dipping his head in-between your thighs. you sensed the emotions he held deep inside of him, the ones he kept hidden. maybe that's the reason you felt you could trust him, maybe that's why you didn't run out of his house the second you saw his sketchy friends.

maybe that’s why you so badly wanted to prove yourself to him.

makki began to roll a blunt, as instructed by oikawa, as he began eating you out. mattsun and iwaizumi’s eyes burned holes into your skin as they watched.

your body twitched after the first few licks from him, immediately becoming obsessed with the feeling. oikawa’s tongue felt warm and soft against your clit, the slow pace of the circles around the bud were driving your body crazy. your thighs instinctively went to close around his head, but he held them down with a firm grasp, only intensifying the pace of his tongue in disapproval of how your body misbehaved.

“relax.” he drawled into your skin, continuing his assault on your clit.

you bit your lip and nodded in response, trying to keep your calm as your body had never experienced such pleasure before.

oikawa expertly switched his tongue from your clit to your hole, replacing the stimulation on your clit with his thumb whilst fucking you slowly with his firm tongue. you unintentionally let out a loud whine, head thrusting back into the plush pillow of the couch and fingers going to thread in oikawa’s brown locks.

“feels good?” the voice came from next to you, iwaizumi’s.

your eyes glazed over to his, lids becoming heavy and lips parting open as you panted out a “yes.”

oikawa noticed your attention diverting over from him to his best friend, his brows furrowed in annoyance. to grasp your attention once more, he removed his tongue from your hole and replaced it on your clit again, then shoved his middle finger inside you with no warning - making sure to curl it all the way up.

his harsh actions against your cunt had you loudly moaning with your head thrown back in both pain and pleasure. just one of his fingers alone filled you up more than your exes entire cock ever did.

your eyes immediately squeezed shut at the feeling, toes curling from the sensation of his finger thrusting inside you, mixed with the feeling of his tongue swirling your clit.

oikawa lifted his head to click his tongue at you, “no baby, you’re gonna look at me while you cum, okay?”

his tone was sweet, but firm enough to make you quickly shoot your eyes open and nod at him obediently.

he mumbled a “good girl” before going back to licking up and down your cunt. he went through a routine of switching between circling your clit, swiping his tongue from side to side, sucking on your swollen bud, and rapidly lapping up your pussy - all while fucking you with his finger.

he didn't even get the chance to add a second finger before you felt your climax approaching. your head was still spacey from the high, so you weren't sure if this feeling was from oikawa or if it was just your hazy brain, but you found out sooner than later as you orgasm began to take over you.

oikawa got the idea that you were reaching your climax as your little hole pulsed around his finger and your legs shook around his head. as much as he wanted to tease and edge you, he decided he wanted to fuck you more.

he helped you ride out your orgasm as his tongue prodded at your clit relentlessly, licking and sucking at the firm bud, finger curling further and further into the depths of your gummy walls,

euphoria took over you as you felt the numbing feeling from your high intertwine with the body-racking orgasm that oikawa was providing you. your entire body felt lighter than it ever had before; sweet, pure release exiting your body.

your head was spinning and your chest was heaving from the aftermath, your body began to feel extremely tired. the weight from the entire day you had came crashing over you, as the sweet release you once felt subsided. you felt good, but you needed a nap.

through eyes that were barely open, you watched as oikawa smirked down at your disheveled form and carefully grabbed something from makki’s outstretched hand.

“glad you enjoyed that, princess, but it’s my turn now.” oikawa stealthily unbuttoned his pants after placing his blunt in-between his lips, strategically sucking in the smoke and blowing it out without having to remove the object from his lips.

you nodded at him, half-understanding what he meant. you were by no means sober, but you definitely felt the strong buzz dying down.

“i’m gonna need verbal responses, sweetheart.” he leaned down just above your face, breathing out smoke as he got closer. the strong scent filled up your nostrils.

you couldn't help but scrunch your nose up at the strong smell, you may have been sucking down a blunt yourself not even 30 minutes ago, but you would never get used to the grotesque odor.

oikawa noticed, and raised a curious brow at you.

“ah, so we still think weed is gross? after you smoked almost an entire blunt by yourself?” his tone seemed amusing, but his eyes told a whole different story.

“god, first she wastes our weed and now she acts like she didn't even like it?” mattsun crossed his arms over his chest while facing you, eyes giving your naked body a once over.

you were too blissed out to even fight them this time, you just desperately wanted a nap,

“hey, all i said was that i’d prove to you guys i’m not a prude, and i did. doesn't mean i have to like the smell of your stinky weed.” your words were mumbled from your tired state, but still not wanting to accept defeat.

“nah, i don't think you’ve proved yourself at all yet.” makki chuckled dryly at you.

“yeah, all you've done is get high and be a fucking pillow princess for oikawa.” mattsun chimed in.

“and a brat too.” makki added on to mattsun’s sentence.

oikawa raised his chin cockily, clearly satisfied with his friend’s insolent words.

then, an idea clicked in his mischievous mind. he narrowed his eyes down at your pathetic figure sprawled out underneath him as he thought about it.

“oh please, don't be sore losers. i smoked your fucking weed and let oikawa eat me out, just admit i’m not a prude like you thought i was.” you tried to regain the similar confident composure that you held before, glaring over at makki and mattsun.

“hmm, maybe you aren't a prude, but you're still a pretentious brat, and brats deserve to be tamed. don't you think?” oikawa’s voice was smooth and easy-going, but his words were dripping with malice.

you found the courage to narrow your eyes back up at oikawa, despite the internal feeling of your heart hammering against your chest.

“and how do you plan on doing that?” you tested him.

he chuckled lowly at your obviously feigned confidence, he could just tell by your flushed cheeks.

he lowered his face to hover above yours for the nth time that night, placing the blunt in-between his lips and sucking the smoke into his mouth. before even inhaling, he pulled your bottom lip down with his thumb and put his lips on yours, releasing the thick smoke into your mouth.

your once lidded eyes were now widened, your hand quickly came up to grab at oikawa’s arm. he pulled away quickly, chuckling at how you choked on the smoke - eyes watering up again just as they had done before.

“you-” you choked out another cough, “asshole.”

oikawa raised an eyebrow at you, reveling in the way his best friends laughed from the sidelines at your expense.

“mmm, i don't think you're in any position to be calling me names.”

you glared up at him, quickly blinking away the stray tears that remained in-between your lashes.

“oh, and what position would that be?” the fire you held before was coming back, and this time it wasn't because you wanted to prove yourself.

no, you just wanted to see how far you could push him.

a familiar large hand came up instinctively to wrap around your throat, pushing you against the couch once again as he tauntingly held the burning blunt inches away from your face.

“i wouldn't test me, darling. clearly, you aren't aware of how far i'll go to put a bitch like you in your place.” he spat down at you, his eyes were dark and he was still holding the glowing blunt way too close to your face for your liking.

but you couldn't stop yourself, you kept pushing and pushing.

“show me then. i’m not getting any younger here, am i?”

a laugh was heard from your right, it was quickly muffled as mattsun slapped a hand over the mouth of its carrier: makki, of course.

oikawa clicked his tongue at your confidence, knowing damn well that you'd regret it later.

“sure, i’ll show you.” he spoke in a low voice as he brought the hand holding his blunt down your body, stopping when he reached your thigh. you sucked in a nervous breath in anticipation, the burning bud was only a centimeter away from the smooth skin of your exposed thigh. your heartbeat was increasing and you felt your blood running cold, you opened your mouth to protest at the last moment, but the sadistic man beat you to it.

you felt a burning sensation press into the outside of your thigh, causing you to immediately grab at oikawa’s arm with a shrill scream escaping your mouth. the man only laughed above you, nudging your death grip on his arm off with ease.

“what’s the matter? i thought you could handle it.” he jutted his bottom lip out to feign a sorrowful expression, you wanted to kill him.

“you just- you just fucking burned me.” your chest was heaving and you felt yourself slowly getting terrified at what would come next.

the boys next to you were silent as they watched the scene unfold, oikawa could only smirk down at you.

he pulled another hit out of the blunt and dipped his head in-between the crevice of your neck and shoulder. you tensed at the feeling of his lips being so close to your skin, then relaxed when you felt him blow the warm smoke into your skin. the subtle feeling of the warmth from the smoke ghosting over your skin almost made you moan out loud. instead, your body betrayed you with a shudder.

“mmm, something tells me you liked that. don't act so innocent, little slut.” your breath hitched at his words.

“just because i may have liked that, doesn't mean i enjoyed being used as an ashtray.” you gestured towards your scorned thigh.

he chuckled lowly at you, then brought his free hand down towards the burn mark left in your skin and pressed his thumb against it slowly. this time, the painful feeling of a sting in your skin forced a guttural moan out of your throat, instead of a screech. you instinctively brought your hand up to cover your mouth, eyes wide in embarrassment.

“really? ‘cause i think you do.” oikawa laughed at your obvious humiliation and pulled your hand away from your mouth, rolling his eyes in the process.

“c’mon, quit acting like a damn prude still, darling. admit you're enjoying this shit.” mattsun spoke from his spot on the couch, now resting his right arm over the side of the couch to get a better look at you.

you scoffed at him, cocking your head towards him in response.

“i thought i was a brat, not a prude anymore.”

makki chuckled at your rebuttal.

“’kawa, i think she’s getting a little too feisty again, you might wanna smoke her out again.”

you almost choked at his words, quickly whipping your head back to face oikawa. you felt your stomach drop at the devilish smirk he gave you.

you were just beginning to sober up, and they already wanted you dumbed down again?

“fair point, makki. i can't fuck her while she’s running her mouth like this, right?”

before you knew it, your mouth was being filled with smoke again. oikawa restarted his method of sucking on the blunt before pressing his lips to yours again. your mind was entering a similar haze as before once again, body also being filled with warmth and pleasure as oikawa began rubbing his bare cock against your pussy.

before sliding in, he pressed his shortening blunt against your skin once more - this time, on the fat of your right hip. you pleasantly moaned at both the pain and pleasure from the sensation this time, and oikawa couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of your walls visibly crashing down.

he didn't even give you a second to adjust to the searing pain you felt on your skin before he was thrusting into you, causing you to practically scream at the feeling of his cock stretching you out.

“oh, f-fuck.” your nails made their home on the skin of his back, sinking into his smooth flesh in response to the pain you felt in your core. to your dismay, the numbing feeling that spread across your body from your high didn't help at all to prevent the newfound pain from oikawa’s cock entering you.

“god, look at her. our little virgin mary is being corrupted.” mattsun’s deep voice was heard from across the couch. you were surprised to look over and see him fisting his own girthy cock while staring down at you, makki and iwa were doing the exact same thing.

oikawa chuckled breathlessly at his comment, earning your attention back to him.

“shit, you're tighter than i expected, princess.” his bottom lip was caught between his teeth, his eyes were slightly hooded from his approaching high, and his tattoo littered arms were flexed in front of you for support - you decided you had never been more turned in your entire life.

“move, please.” you begged breathlessly, head feeling hazy and numb, while your body felt extremely sensitive to the touch. your senses were heightened once again and it had you craving an orgasm more than ever.

“since you asked so politely.” oikawa’s hips began snapping at that moment, hard thrusts sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

next to you, the three boys began pumping their cocks with more fervor, pace quickening in time with oikawa’s.

oikawa didn't cease his antics of blowing smoke into your mouth either. with his cock slamming into you at such an ungodly speed, your lips were constantly parted open - leaving him easy access to fill up your lungs with the same smoke you disdained so much.

your body was betraying your mind. physically, you felt fucking amazing - but mentally, you wanted to yell at oikawa to quit his abuse on your lungs.

“q-quit it with the smoke. i think i’m high enough.” you stumbled over your words.

oikawa bit down on your neck in response to your distaste, hot breath fanning over your ear to whisper lowly, “quit being a fucking brat first, and take what i give you.”

you shut your mouth obediently, until makki chimed in.

“you should be grateful that oikawa is being so generous as to blow his weed into your mouth without making you do a damn thing. say thank you, slut.” his words were harsh and gritted through his clenched teeth as he pumped his cock harder, eyes burning into your skin.

you whimpered at his pitiless words and at the feeling of oikawa thrusting into you with more power, clearly encouraged by his friends praise.

“i-” your remark was cut off by oikawa’s firm hand around your throat once more.

“what do you have to say to me?” his eyes burned into yours, telling you that his question was not actually a question, but a demand.

“t-thank you, oikawa.” your eyes were brimming with tears from the lack of oxygen circulating towards your brain.

he only squeezed harder.

“what's my fucking name.” his lips were ghosting over yours now, his hot breath only added to the heat that was already evident on your face.

your bottom lip wobbled, you had no idea what kind of name he would like. if you guessed wrong, what would he do?

“thank you, sir.” you silently prayed you chose the right one, and your prayer was granted as oikawa removed his tight grip from your throat and smashed his lips onto yours - practically growling into the kiss.

you moaned into his mouth as you felt the pleasure in your stomach building up at an increasingly fast speed. your head was spinning and your body was on fire, you never felt better in your life.

“feels...so fucking good.” your words came out in pants. you could barely think straight anymore; your mind was only filled with oikawa’s cock and the impending numbness from weed.

your attention was snatched from oikawa as you heard a deep guttral moan come from the side of you, it was iwaizumi’s. the once quiet man was becoming more vocal as his own orgasm was approaching.

“yeah, you like getting high and getting fucked in front of random strangers you just met, huh?” your face burned at his surprising words, never did you expect to hear such a sentence come from (what you thought was) such a polite man’s mouth.

then again, you never even expected you would ever be in a situation like this before either.

“y-yes, i do.” your walls had broken down and they could all see it. there was no more sticking your nose up at them anymore, no more bratty comments at the expense of their drug of choice, and no more pretending like you weren't enjoying yourself tonight - because you clearly were.

the boys chuckled all at once at your sudden submission, but oikawa wasn't surprised.

there was only a small bud left of what was the blunt in oikawa’s hand, but he manage to suck one more hit out of it. you parted your lips with expectations of him to release the puff of smoke into your mouth, but to your surprise, he ducked his head above your left breast and let out the smoke slowly over your perked nipple. the subtle sensation left goosebumps all over your body, causing you to moan under his soft touch.

see, unbeknownst to you, oikawa was a man of observation - and he couldn't help but become blatantly aware of your body’s hypersensitivity to the small, subtle actions he went about. whether it be from the weed or from your inexperience in sexual situations, oikawa didn't know. he just knew he was extremely fascinated and infatuated with the way your body reacted to him.

he bored down into your lidded, reddening eyes, your lips were parted as you panted out his name and the look on your face only told him that you were gone.

he swore he had never fucked somebody prettier than you, he silently hoped one day he'd get to see you with your lips wrapped around his cock.

unable to help himself, oikawa stuck his thumb into your mouth, pushing the digit as far in as it would go.

you were taken aback by the action at first, but your mind was quickly put at ease by the warm feeling of being filled by him in two different places at once. you swirled your tongue around his finger, both sucking on it and licking it.

the sight in front of him had his knees practically buckling above you, he couldn't fight the approaching feeling of his orgasm unraveling before him.

“you're gonna be a good little girl and let me cum inside you, yeah?” his voice was hoarse, moans and grunts beginning to spill from his lips more while he looked down at you with complete darkness in his eyes.

god, you weren't thinking straight.

but you really didn't care.

you nodded as best as you could with the spinning feeling inside your head, body filling to the brim with pleasure as you felt your own orgasm approaching you. oikawa quickened his pace as he felt your cunt squeezing his girth, almost like your body had a mind of its own to suck him dry.

“such a little slut, letting you fill her up with smoke and cum.” mattsun’s deep voice was heard from beside iwaizumi. his eyes were still glued to your form and the head of his cock was a bright red, begging for release.

“let’s see you try and act fucking innocent again after this.” makki added with a chuckle, he was just as close to finishing as his friend.

you moaned helplessly at their ridicules, feeling your coil so close to snapping.

“god, you fucking revel in the attention don't you? you're literally getting off from being watched like this, so exposed and vulnerable.” mattsun spoke up again.

yours and oikawa’s labored breathing harmonized as you both got closer and closer to your releases.

“they're right, you're such a little fucking attention whore. sucking in my cock like that while my friends watch. you're so desperate, it’s pathetic.” oikawa was internally amazed at himself for being able to muster a complete sentence out while his cock was so close to being practically milked.

you whined in response, your cheeks heating up. you didn't care about anything else, you just wanted to cum.

“p-please, i'm so close.” you cried out, tears beginning to brim at your eyes.

“fuck. cum, cum princess.” the voice came from your right side, your eyes trailed over to the source, being iwaizumi.

oikawa scoffed, “you don't listen to anyone else, got that? just me, sweetheart.” he shot daggers with his eyes towards iwaizumi, and he shot them right back at oikawa.

you blinked your eyes at oikawa, not realizing the competitive banter between them until now.

“let her fucking cum already, ‘kawa.” iwa growled at his best friend, his cock was an angry red. you could tell he just wanted to finish, as well as makki and mattsun.

oikawa gritted his teeth, knowing damn well that his orgasm was approaching too.

“alright, cum for me, slut. squeeze my fucking cock with that pretty little cunt of yours, okay?”

his wish was your command, and it’s not like you were able to hold back anymore, anyway.

you felt the coil snap inside you; already fuzzy mind going completely blank, mouth dropping open in a silent scream, and thighs shaking around oikawa’s torso. he felt your cunt pulse around his cock and he couldn't help how quick his orgasm followed after yours, teeth instinctively latching onto your shoulder as he pumped you full of his semen.

oikawa helped you ride out your high as he slowed down his thrusts, eventually ceasing them. your orgasm combined with oikawa’s was so intense, that you failed to even acknowledge that the three boys next to you were coming too, fists beginning to slow down their movements.

after a few minutes of collective panting heard throughout the room, makki broke the silence.

“holy shit.”

you agreed, holy shit was right.

after passing out on oikawa’s couch from pure exhaustion, the sobering-up man carried you, with some effort, to his room to spend the night. being the gentleman he was, he tucked you in carefully under the covers of his bed and set up a somewhat comfortable sleeping arrangement for himself on the living room couch.

before retreating to his makeshift bed to crash on for the night, he peaked into his room once more - eyes scanning over your sleeping figure as you slept soundly. he noticed that while you slept, all the worry and pouting that was usually so evident on your face seemed to fade away. you look relaxed, at ease even. he thought maybe you just needed to loosen up more, to let your worries fade away every so often, while you lose yourself in the late hours of the night.

he thought that maybe, he could be the one to teach you how.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haiqueue #oikawa tooru #oikawa #tooru oikawa #oikawa toru #oikawa smut #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x fem!reader #oikawa x reader #tooru oikawa smut #haikyuu smut #oikawa tōru #hq #hq smut #hq smau #oikawa au #oikawa fanfiction

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awritingtree · 3 years

Text

The Complications of Friendship and Love

James Potter x reader, very little Sirius Black x reader, James Potter x Lily Evans

@wand3ringr0s3‘s 1.9k follower writing challenge: Angst prompt 5. “I never thought something could hurt this bad.” The prompt has been bolded :)

Summary: Being best friend’s with your ex is complex. But adding your best friend dating your ex? Things got a whole lot more complicated.

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: angst, low self-confidence talks, friendship betrayals, unrequited love, 1 swear word

A/N: jsdf I’m sorry this took so long love <3 I wrote half of it and then lost motivation and then got back to it after so long 😂 anyways I hope you all enjoy it xx

Next part: The Benefits of Friendship and Love

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Y/N Y/L/N had believed that James Potter was her one true love; the person she was going to spend the rest of her life with. But there she sat in her Potions class watching her two best friends giggling and flirting with each other wondering where did she go wrong?

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, not glancing at her.

“Of course I do, James,” Y/N replied, bewildered he would even think about asking her such a question.

“It’s just- I’ll be really busy you know. With quidditch, NEWTs coming up and being head boy, I won’t have a lot of time to give you,” James explained.

“I don’t care about that. As long as I’m with you, nothing else matters.”

James didn’t get a chance to say anything as Sirius just plopped down next to Y/N, throwing a hand over her shoulder. “What are you two talking about?”

“Nothing,” said James before launching into a conversation with Remus about prefect duties.

“Right, nothing,” sighed Y/N, picking at her food.

“Hey, can we talk?” Lily’s voice snapped Y/N out of her daydream. Her eyes connected with the grey eyes of Sirius Black before she turned around to face Lily with a smile, “Of course, Lils.”

“Can we go somewhere...” Lily looked around the courtyard, “a bit more private?” she finished.

Y/N nodded, stringing her bag around her shoulder as she followed Lily towards the Black Lake. It was a rare warm day at the beginning of October of their seventh year. The grounds were filled with students soaking up the remnants of the warm sun before a cold, harsh winter took over.

Lily led Y/N to a secluded area near the edge of the Black Lake. She stood there, rocking back and forth on her heels, wiping her hands on her uniform every few seconds. She took a deep breath, turning to face her best friend. Her forehead creased, her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth, nibbling down on it.

“Is everything alright?” asked Y/N softly, concerned at her best friend’s behaviour.

“Yes- well um no. I guess- I just need to tell you something. Promise me you’ll listen to the whole thing before speaking?”

Y/N nodded; her eyebrows furrowed in worry. What could Lily possibly have to say that’s gotten her so anxious?

“I want to start by saying I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done what I did, especially without talking to you first. James and I, we’ve been dating. Since a few weeks ago before the term started. We didn’t tell you because I knew it’d hurt you and none of us wanted that. We’ve broken up now. We talked a few days ago. I- we couldn’t carry on like that, not when we knew what we were doing would hurt our best friend. I knew you liked him, and I still said yes, and I shouldn’t have done that, especially after he hurt you so badly. I know you’re upset; we shouldn’t have hidden it from you in the first place, but we’re over now.”

Lily looked up suddenly, shocked to hear Y/N laugh. Not a hurt, mocking laugh but a genuine laugh as if she had heard something really funny.

“I know, Lily,” Y/N said giggling, “You all did an extremely bad job at hiding it.”

“Really? And you’re not upset?” Lily asked nervously.

“Of course not, silly. But I do think you’ve both gone mad. Absolute bonkers. How could you ever think I would stand in the way of my two best friends’ happiness?” Y/N asked with a small smile.

“I can’t. We can’t do that to you.”

“Rubbish! You’re not doing anything to me. Go, be with him. Be happy, both of you.”

A grin made its way onto the redhead’s face she jumped onto the Y/H/C, squeezing the life out of her.

“Thank you! Thank you so much. You’re the best,” Lily shouted as she ran back towards the castle. She turned her head to see her best friend with a small smile on her face, what she didn’t see were the tears gathering in her eyes and how her face fell once she was alone. What she failed to see was the sight of her best friend falling onto her knees, breaking down once again.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Sirius, Remus and Peter found Y/N sitting against a tree, face resting on top of her knees drawn to her chest. They all grimaced at the sight of her blotchy face and red-rimmed eyes. She looked so broken.

“You knew, didn’t you?” she whispered, continuing to stare at the still lake before her.

Sirius, Remus and Peter stayed silent not knowing what to say. They did know from the beginning. James came back home shouting about it as soon as it happened. They were asked not to tell her and so they didn’t, a big mistake on their part they realized a little too late.

“Leave me alone” requested Y/N, her voice hoarse from crying.

“Y/N/N, we are-” started Remus.

“Please, just go,” she pleaded weakly. She had no energy left to do anything anymore. Her heart hurt too much. She’d wasted all her energy trying to be enough for a boy who wanted nothing to do with her; all for nothing.

“Alright. But we are sorry Y/N,” said Remus softly.

“We’re here if you need anything,” Peter went on.

Y/N didn’t reply. She made no acknowledgement that the words reached her ears. She continued to stare at the still water, a defeated look on her face. Remus and Peter turned to walk back to the castle. Sirius sighed and took a step towards Y/N, ignoring the pointed look Remus sent him. He leaned down to press a soft kiss against her head.

“We really are sorry, love,” he mumbled before following his best friends back to the castle.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

A few months passed by. The weather got colder; the wind got harsher. The leaves changed colours and fell. The green grass began to get covered with white snow. All through this, Lily and James got stronger. Every girl was envious of their relationship. The golden couple, they were known as throughout the school.

Meanwhile, Y/N continued to suffer on the sidelines, never showing anyone how badly she was hurting. She wore a bright smile, fake to anyone who really looked. Sirius, Remus and Peter noticed it, she had begun to pull away from all of them, spending all her time in the library when she could, sitting with other people during meals. Anytime they approached her she would cut the conversation short saying she had somewhere to be. The times where she did stick around them, she wasn't the talkative Y/N they knew and loved but a shell of her former self.

Y/N felt disgusted with herself for the hate and anger she had begun to feel towards her best friend. It was justified in her eyes, but she knew no one else would see it that way; she would be considered too dramatic, petty and honestly, a bitch. Due to this fear, Y/N kept quiet about how she felt about the situation. She couldn’t rant to Remus, Sirius, Peter, Marlene, Alice or Dorcas. The only person she could rant to, who would understand her completely or otherwise not judge her, was the sole cause of all her problems in the first place.

James Potter not only ripped her heart right out of her chest and stomped all over it but also left her alone with no one she could talk to, making her spiral into a whirl of self-hate and loneliness with nothing to keep her from drowning.

“What happened to not having enough time to be in a relationship?”, “Be more like Lily then maybe we’d like to hang out with you more”, “Look at Lily, she’s beautiful and she takes care of herself” were the only thoughts that swirled through Y/N’s head on repeat. Her self-worth was reduced to the size of a speck of dust, ready to be blown away into the open by the lightest of breaths. Sirius had noticed her change in mannerisms, clothes, tone of voice; almost everything and it made his heartache. He watched from afar as she continued to distance herself; not that anyone could blame her. But it appeared that her absence went unnoticed by everyone, except by him, Remus and Peter. Not even her best friend noted the lack of her presence; too involved in her new boyfriend and busy making new friends.

Y/N soon found comfort in her friends from Ravenclaw, particularly Dave. He understood how she felt; not completely but a bit was better than nothing. He was someone she could rant about James and Lily to without the fear of judgement. Dave and Lily had broken up a few months before she’d started dating James; turns out she had liked James throughout their relationship, using it as a backup since James was showing interest in her best friend at that time. But in the end, not even the friendship of Dave was enough to fill up the empty void inside her, the gaping hole that she believed only one person could close.

Y/N was broken, like a mirror shattered into a thousand pieces and the glue that could put her back together was only in one person’s possession.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Y/N wanted to cry; she wanted to break things, thrash a whole room as she collapsed under the weight of her sobs. She wanted to scream into the void until her throat ached, her voice hoarse and raw. She wanted to shout at Lily for deceiving her; for pretending to care all these years. She wanted to yell at the universe, asking what she had done to deserve this. She wanted to punch James, break his nose for destroying her. Y/N Y/L/N had lost herself and she was nowhere to be found.

Y/N knew everyone would pick Lily if it came to it. Everyone always picked Lily; she was the much more favourable and lovable choice. It hadn't bothered Y/N much at first, she would gladly pick Lily first over herself too, but it started to get too much when people she was close to first - she’d introduced Lily to (such as the Marauders) - chose her. The last straw was drawn when James, the only person in the world Y/N had thought would never abandon her; tossed her aside like a second choice, opted for her. The person she revealed her deepest, darkest secrets to; whom she told things she’d never imagined telling another living, breathing soul had thrown her without a second thought, without any regret, onto the side of the road like rubbish without glancing back once to see the damage he’d caused. He’d promised he wouldn’t turn out like the rest. He’d promised to her.

Maybe it was all her fault. She gave her everything to him; her heart and soul, all her time, her first kiss, amongst other things whether she wanted to or not. There were days where she wondered whose fault it really was. Was it her? Was she not pretty enough? Lily Evans was beautiful; no one could deny it, you looked like a tiny twinkling star next to the glowing moon. Surprisingly the only person that comprehended what a first kiss and relationship meant to Y/N was Sirius Black, the notorious player of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was the only one who’d not told her to get over it and instead held her hand through the period of time when she had needed someone to rely on.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

“Y/N! Wait! Y/N/N!” Y/N reluctantly slowed down, waiting for the person calling her name to catch up to her. She found herself in the company of Sirius, Remus, and Peter once a hand quickly grabbed her and pulled her to the side of the corridor.

“What do you want?” she asked impatiently. She just wanted to go back to her common room and sleep - an evening of peace - but the universe was against her, as usual.

Peter looked around nervously at the tone of her voice whilst Remus looked as if he’d been expecting this reaction.

Sirius raised an eyebrow in question, “Have somewhere to be, do you?”

“Yes actually.”

Sirius sighed before his mouth pulled into a wide cheerful smile choosing to be the bigger person, “Well we’re all sneaking out to Hogsmeade later if you wanted to join us.”

“No thank you. I’m busy,” Y/N said pushing her way from between them and walking away.

“How long are you going to keep this up!?” he yelled after her, irritated.

Y/N froze, anger bubbling through her blood and she turned on her heel slowly to face him.

“What?” she asked slowly, her teeth gritted, and her free hand clenched in a fist.

“Padfoot, don’t,” Remus muttered in warning, placing a hand on Sirius’ arm.

“No Moony,” Sirius said shrugging his hand off, “Someone needs to tell her that enough is enough.”

“Enough? Enough!?” Y/N laughed taking a step closer to Sirius with every sentence. “Enough was when my best friend decided to date my ex despite him breaking my heart not once, not twice but three times! Enough was when my best friend decided to date the boy who left me shattered behind my back! Enough was when my best friends knew about all this and chose to keep it from me!

“Enough was when all my friends left me stranded alone.”

The pain she’d locked up inside washed over her, her knees buckling beneath her. Sirius moved swiftly, gathering her in his arms before she hit rock bottom. Y/N clutched his shirt in her fists, soaking it as she sobbed against his chest.

“I never thought something could hurt this bad,” her voice broke, tugging Sirius’ heartstrings. Y/N’s heart ached; her chest physically hurting as it constricted her heart. The pain was too much to handle; the wound tearing open and blood smearing the ears of whom the sounds of her anguish fell upon.

Sirius had always known a time like this would come. A time when he’d sit there holding the love of his life in his arms as she sobbed into his chest over his best friend, for his brother. And there was nothing he could possibly do about it.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

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saintshigaraki · 3 years

Text

when you break my heart, do it softly

pairing: gender neutral reader x dabi

work count: 1.5k

excerpt: A rather large part of you wonders if maybe you should’ve seen this coming. The other part of you knows that even if you had, it probably wouldn’t have changed a thing. You loved him a bit too much to walk away before you absolutely had to.

a/n: it’s not like. super relevant but this is an au where dabi is not a wanted villain.

tags: cheating, angst, hurt/comfort, hopeful ending, SOFT DABI

in case you’d rather read it on ao3!

A rather large part of you wonders if maybe you should’ve seen this coming. The other part of you knows that even if you had, it probably wouldn’t have changed a thing. You loved him a bit too much to walk away before you absolutely had to.

Dabi hadn’t ever seemed like the commitment sort of guy anyway, not since the first moment you met him when he had been incessantly flirting with you and two other girls at the same bar you were trying and failing to manage. It was your first night on the job and it was a seedy place crawling with even seedier people but you needed the money and work was work.

At least that’s what you told yourself when Dabi’s flirting got more and more annoying. It was hard to focus with him breathing down your fucking neck. You told him as much. You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth because while you don’t know who he is, an awfully annoying voice in the back of your head whispered perhaps you shouldn’t piss off the scarred up man who just minutes ago was demonstrating just how hot his flames can get.

You and Dabi stood completely still and silent for a few long seconds, an uncapped beer freezing through your palm and his glowing blue eyes narrowed and burning straight through your skull.

The urge to trip over your words and backtrack was almost impossible to ignore, almost. But you had shit to do and this job was already stressing you the fuck out and you’re two seconds away from being evicted so this needs to work out so it would be nice if he backed the fuck off for just a single second.

So, instead of groveling at his feet, you stuck your chin out, took a deep breath and calmly said, “Look, you’re very, very attractive, and trust me, at any other time I’d be so flattered and into this, but it’s my first night and I’m struggling just a bit so can you please give me a minute.”

He was silent for a few seconds before his lips curled up into an awfully too pleased and cocky smile revealing a pair of shockingly white teeth and weirdly sharp canines.

“You think I’m hot, doll?”

The tension between you two melted completely.

You groaned but only to hide the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.

(He saw it anyway.

Later, in the early hours of the morning, he asked for your number. You gave it to him because you were a little dumb and he was a little too beautiful and surprisingly funny in a strange morbid violent lovely sort of way.

You thought this is dangerous. Not necessarily because he was dangerous-though you didn’t doubt that he most definitely was- but because as he smiled down at you with his crooked grin that made him look more boyish than villainous, you thought that’d he’d be so, so easy to fall in love with. And that he’d break your heart for it.

You were right, of course. But fuck if it didn’t hurt all the same because of it)

A year and a half later, standing in you and Dabi’s shared apartment, you’re forced to see the truth in your own damning words.

He had stripped off his shirt, getting ready for bed and for as strong as you’d like to believe you are, you can’t contain the wounded sound that escapes your mouth before you clamp your lips together.

He whips around but the damage is done. There are claw marks down his back, ones you most definitely had not left.

You both stare at each other, something so heavy and awful hanging in the space between you two.

Vaguely, it reminds you of the night you and Dabi met. Though thinking about that does nothing but rub salt in the wound, so you push it away and bury it deep.

He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“I love you, Dabi. I want you to know that. I love you so much. And I always will.”

The words are so heartbreakingly true.

You actually did end up getting evicted after that fateful night at the bar and even though you and Dabi had been dating for only 4 months at that point, he’d offered you his home and let you get back on your feet before paying rent. He knew exactly how to comfort you on the days where everything felt a bit too much like it was caving in, and you had held him as he sobbed so hard he’d heaved, more times than you could count.

You had seen the worst and best in each other. Bared your wounds so sweetly at such a formative time in your lives. How could you not love him? How could you not care for him for the rest of your life?

Of course, it hurt that he’d fucked another person, it broke your heart so completely, but the idea of being mad, of screaming at him, and throwing shit and causing a mess didn’t even cross your mind, because deep down, you thought, perhaps it is time to move on. Perhaps you both need something different right now.

You had gotten a job offer in America some time ago and you hadn’t taken it because of Dabi. Because you loved him and he was here. You had recently gotten an email that it was still on the table. It’d be a good opportunity for you. A great one actually.

It was time to move on, you realized. To grow as people, separately.

Dabi is the one to drive you to the airport. It’s a little strange, you’ll admit, but everything about what happened post the claw marks incident was a little strange. You’d stayed in his apartment after everything. Three weeks of skin-crawling awkwardness tinged with unspoken hurt.

It didn’t feel awkward now, though. As he stood outside his car with his hands in his pockets staring at you like you’re bound to turn to dust if he looks away.

You set your suitcase down gently and approach him, until you’re mere inches apart. He says nothing. You don’t either.

Instead, you wrap your arms around him and hug him. He’s stone still and just as you’re about to let go he returns it so tightly that you’re nearly crushed against his chest. You can’t help but laugh a little. His hold has always been a bit painful (but only in the sweetest way).

“I love you,” he murmurs into your hair.

You laugh again, light and sweet because you love him as well. So much it hurts.

“I love you, too.”

A few weeks after getting to America you change your number and don’t tell Dabi. Because even though you love him, you think you might hate him a little too. And you’d rather let it go before hate is all you have of him.

You return to Japan a year and a half later. They offered you a transfer and you took it. Going to America was an important and needed step in your life, but in your bones, you feel the truth of it. It’s time to go home.

The night you land back in Japan, you go to the same bar you met Dabi in. Partly for the nostalgia, partly because you did genuinely love your boss, but mostly because you knew you’d get a discount.

You’re on your second vodka and coke when he comes in. You don’t even have to turn around to know. You feel it deep in your chest, a sweet ache in your bones.

He sits next to you and for a moment neither of you say anything. Not until you turn to look at him. At first glance, it’s as though nothing has changed about him. Same jacket, same dyed hair, same scars, but something in his eyes is different. Older, maybe, though it’s only been a year. And he holds himself a bit differently as well.

You like it.

You tell him as much.

He gives you that same too-pleased cocky smile that you first saw what felt like lifetimes ago.

“You think I’m hot, doll?”

You groan to hide a smile tugging at the corner of your lip.

He sees it anyway.

You wonder if history really is bound to repeat itself. But you look at him and all his minute differences, and think, maybe not. And perhaps you’re too hopeful, and maybe a little dumb, but when you walk out of the bar with him and he gives you that boyish smile, you’re not as sure that he’ll break your heart this time around.

And when he’s kissing his way down your neck and whispering, I love you, I love you, I love you, like a prayer, and his tears leave a trail on your skin, it’s hard to not return the sentiment.

You love him. Of course you do. How could you not?

You tell him as much.

Perhaps this is a mistake. Perhaps it isn’t. Loving someone is always a risk, sometimes it feels like you’re setting your heart up to be broken.

But, this is worth the risk, you think. It always has been.

#dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi imagine #dabi x you #bnha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha #dabi #mha #my hero academia #vicwrites

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years

Text

Sweet Pea//nothing i wouldn’t do for you

Request: Can I request a SP/Reader where reader gets hurt (twists her ankle or something minor) and everyone is like “we gotta hide it from SP” readers confused until he finds out and he like way overreacts and like carries her everywhere, aka too much overprotective-ness/caring

hey! how is everyone! i hope you’re all amazinggggg (you already are because you’re reading this) anyway, i hope you like this!! this is another one i wrote ages ago so it might have a little bit of a different tone than my recent things, but i think you’ll still like it! also, it was this blogs 5th birthday yesterday! so happy birthday!! and if you’ve been here from the beginning...why? (kidding, i love you!)

“This is bad. This is really really bad.” Fangs and Toni are stood at the foot of the hospital bed you’re sat on.

“Yep.” Toni agrees. “What are we gonna do?”

“Guys. I twisted my ankle. Why are you freaking out?” You ask confused and they both shush you.

“This is bad because if your boyfriend finds out he will go into overprotective mode, and overprotective Sweet Pea, is the worst Sweet Pea.”

“I’m sure he isn’t that bad.”

“Believe us. He’s bad. Fangs once broke his finger and Sweet Pea did literally everything for him.” Toni explains.

“And I mean everything.” Fangs adds, shivering slightly.

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” They both shake their heads.

“That was ages ago though, I can’t imagine he’s going to be that bad now.”

“Last year me and Jughead were fighting and Jughead grazed my arm with his knife. Sweet Pea chased him around the Southside with a knife for a full day.”

“He’d do that anyway.” You try to defend him your boyfriend.

“He also refused to let me walk anyway, and he also sat outside my bedroom at night just in case Jughead came back to ‘finish the job.’” She adds.

“Okay? So he’s over protective? Thats a good thing, it means he loves you. He probably won’t be that bothered by this.” You shrugs and they raise their eyebrows.

“We’re just Sweet Pea’s friends. You’re his girlfriend, the woman who loves him unconditionally and who lets him have sex with her. We thought he was bad with us, it’s gonna be a million times worse with you.”

“So what do you suggest we do? Because I don’t want to lie to him.”

“Its fine. We’ll lie to him. Its for the greater good.” Fangs nods. “We can figure this out.”

“Yeah. He doesn’t know you’re here.”

“You didn’t tell him!”

“Of course not. Have you been listening to what we’ve been telling you?” Toni rolls her eyes.

“So, we’ll drop you off at home and then we’ll figure it out.” Fangs says. “Now, do you really need that bandage?”

“Yes!” You say annoyed.

For two days you’d managed to avoid Sweet Pea. That was only because you’d been kept off school for a few days and when Sweet Pea asked Toni and Fangs if they’d seen you, they told him you were sick.

However now it was your first day back at school and there was nowhere to hide. You, Toni and Fangs were talking in the corridor when Sweet Pea approached the three of you. His gaze immediately went to the crutches you were leaning on and the bandage around your ankle.

“Baby, what happened to your ankle?” He asks, his voice full of concern and eyebrows furrowed. You look at Toni and Fangs who are sending you frantic looks, however you just roll your eyes. This was the stupidest thing they’d ever tried to do and you weren’t going to help them with it. Sweet Pea was your boyfriend, you weren’t going to lie to him.

“I twist-” You start.

“She’s getting ready for the new musical Kevin’s doing.” Fangs interrupts. Apparently you were lying to your boyfriend. Thanks a lot Fogarty.

“Huh?” You and Sweet Pea asks. Sweet Pea looks at you confused before Toni starts talking quickly.

“Its er a one woman show of a girl that wears a bandage around her ankle. Its the whole theme of the musical...”

“Ya know. If it looks broken, it er, probably isn’t?” Fangs says, the sentence coming out more than a question that a proper answer. Idiots.

“Oh, what’s it called?” Sweet Pea asks. Maybe they weren’t the only idiots you knew.

“Me and My Broken Leg.” Fangs replies and you have to stifle a laugh.

“It’s very unheard of.” Toni backs him up. “But it’s Kevin’s favourite.”

“She’s gonna do the whole musical on crutches.” Fangs smiles at you.

“Its proven very difficult during the dancing parts.” Toni adds. They’re definitely running out of ideas.

“But she’s pushed through it!” Fangs pats your back.

“Thats great babe!” Sweet Pea hugs you and you glare at your friends. “I can’t wait to see you.” He smiles.

“Yeah. Its gonna be...” You trail off.

“Great!!” Toni and Fangs say simultaneously making you sigh.

“The costume’s so real too.” Sweet Pea says in awe as he looks at you. You’ve had enough. You about to tell him, however the bell rings for your first class and Toni and Fangs spring into action.

“Well, see you later Sweet Pea. We have to get to class.” Fangs excuses the three of you.

“Yeah, come on Y/n. You need to practice walking on those crutches if you want to be ready for opening night.” Toni says loudly enough for Sweet Pea to hear as you walk away.

“Bye!” Sweet Pea calls. “I love you babe.”

“I love you too.” You call back, despite being practically dragged away.

“Me and My Broken Leg...I’ll have to google it.”

-------

“I can’t believe you actually got away with that.” You scoff. Fangs and Toni had helped you to your next class, before sitting on either side of you. “Me and My Broken Leg? Seriously? What kind of name for a musical is that?”

“I had to think of something!” Fangs defends.

“Or we could have just told him I twisted my ankle, you know, because its the truth.”

“Absolutely not. We are not dealing with overprotective Sweet Pea, and you won’t want to either. You’re looking at him with rose-tinted glasses on right now, but when he rears his massive, overprotective head, you’ll be wishing you’d gone along with this.” Toni replies making you roll your eyes.

“I feel bad though. He’s still my boyfriend. I don’t want to lie to him.”

“Its for the greater good.” They say together and you shake your head.

“The greater good?” You repeat and they both nod. “Sure it is. Will it still be for the greater good when he’s broken up with me?”

“He’s not gonna break up with you. You’re way out of his league, you could murder us brutally and he’d ask you to marry him.”

“So it’d be a win win for everyone.” You mumble under your breath.

--------

“Kevin!” Sweet Pea shouts down the corridor.

“Yeah?” Kevin asks once the tall Serpent has caught up with him.

“Do you need any help with the musical, like extra’s or behind the scenes stuff.”

“Errrr.” Kevin stares at him confused. “Yeah? But is it really your thing?”

“Why wouldn’t it be? I did the musical last year.”

“True, but I just thought you wouldn’t want to do it again.”

“I want to support my girl.” He smiles at the thought of you.

“Your girl is...” He trails off.

“Y/n.”

“Yes. I knew that. Y/n isn’t in th-”

“Oh, you might have to tell me what its about though. I googled Me and My Broken Leg and nothing came up. Toni told me that its really unheard of but apparently its your favourite.”

“I’m happy that you want to support your girlfriend and I’m honored that you came to me for musical help, but there’s no such this as Me and My Broken Leg. And Y/n isn’t in the musical this year, she was going to help out but when she twisted her ankle she had to drop o-”

“She twisted her ankle?”

“Yeah.” Kevin nods.

“When?”

“At the weekend. Toni and Fangs went to the hospital with her.” He explains. An angry expression settles over Sweet Pea’s face and he listen to Kevin talk. “I feel like I’ve just told you something I wasn’t supposed to. Bye?” Kevin quickly excuses himself, leaving Sweet Pea standing in the corridor.

-------

“You lied to me?” Sweet Pea’s voice booms through the quiet library.

“Here we go.” You mumble and turn around to face him. Toni and Fangs look at each other wide-eyed before starting to gather their stuff.

“Sit down.” He tells them angrily. “You twisted your ankle and didn’t tell me?”

“Believe me I tried, it was these two idiots who wanted to keep it from you.”

“Why!” He shouts.

“Because you’re a nightmare to be around when someone you love gets hurt.” Fangs sighs.

“And we didn’t want the only girl that seems to want to be with you, to run away...well limp. It was for you’re own good.” Toni backs her friend up and Sweet Pea crosses his arms, his jaw clenched as he glares at the two of them.

“I’m not a nightmare!” He argues.

“Oh really?” They both ask, raising their eyebrows.

“I really didn’t want to lie to you baby.” You try to defuse the situation. Sweet Pea looks at you, hurt swirling in his eyes. This definitely hurt more than twisting your ankle. “I felt awful, and I was gonna tell you when I was alone with you. But please don’t be mad at Toni and Fangs, they were doing what they thought was best. And I really am fine.”

“I’m not upset about that.” He mumbles and the three of you look at him confused. “Well, I am. But I’m more upset at something else.”

“What baby?” You asked softly and he sits beside you.

“I asked Kevin if he needed any help with the musical.” He grumbles and the three of you share a look before bursting into laughter. “Guys, it’s not funny.”

“We’re sorry.” Fangs says through laughter. “For everything.” He adds and Toni nods.

“But you do get a little over protective.” She snickers.

“Come on Y/n, lets go to class.” He says angrily.

“Did you really ask Kevin about Me and My Broken Leg?” You ask.

“Yes.” He mutters. “I wanted to support you.”

“Awwww, baby.” You tease and pinch his cheek.

“Shut up. I’m still mad.”

“Put me down then.” You retort and motion to the fact that he’s carrying you bridal style down the corridor.

“No way. How are you gonna get to your next class?”

“Maybe Toni and Fangs were right.” You mutter.

“This is just the beginning.”

“Great.”

“How exactly did you twist your ankle?” He asks.

“I just tripped over a curb on the way home.” You shrug.

“So I don’t need to threaten anyone with a knife?”

“No.” You shake your head. “Unless you want to look insane.”

“Right.” He nods. “This has no correlation to anything that has happened to you but, how do you baby-proof a house?” He looks at you and you narrow your eyes. “Just asking for a friend.”

“Maybe I should have gone along with Toni and Fangs musical idea.”

#sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea x you #riverdale #riverdale imagine #jordan connor #jordan connor imagine

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pitviperofdoom · 3 years

Note

I really liked your 'Life Preserver' excerpt and I'd love to read more about it. I liked the interaction between Gerry and Georgie, their characterization and Gerry's description of his relationship with Jon, plus this exchange: “He thinks your mum’s a homophobe, you know.”“You know, he’s probably right? Think she might just hate the idea of love in general, though.”“Messy divorce, I take it,”“Rohypnol and garden shears were involved, so yeah, I’d say it was pretty messy.”

Thanks!

Yeah, Gerry and Georgie surprised me as a really interesting dynamic to explore. In spite of Georgie’s caution around the Entities, Gerry just feels like the kind of person Georgie would get along with, given the people she canonically ends up loving.

Anyway here’s another part I’ve written! This one actually has Jon and Gerry in it.

---

When Jon went in for his next shift, things went smoothly enough to be genuinely suspicious. Tina was his desk partner again, and she greeted him with the same cordiality as always. No one official-looking ever came by to speak with him.

The only hint that anything had happened that night was a campus-wide e-mail paying respects to Daniel Lattimer, one of the subject librarians, who was reported as having “passed unexpectedly”. The message held all of the usual official platitudes and nothing else; Jon had read it word for word several times to be sure.

Someone should have known, shouldn’t they? It wasn’t as if he had been careful about covering his tracks, beyond making his tip anonymous. The library had cameras. He was sure he’d left at least a few shoe prints in all the blood.

But nothing came of it. The first hour passed peacefully, with nothing more exciting than a couple of patrons he had to inform of overdue books.

Jon spotted the familiar dark figure out of the corner of his eye, even before Tina hissed a warning at him. He raised his head to watch Gerard Keay’s approach, chest suddenly tight with nervousness.

How on earth was he supposed to explain this?

“Hey.” Gerard was in front of him already, leaning his elbows on the desk as usual. “Any word on that book? I tried to come in yesterday, but you were closed.”

“R-right.” Jon hesitated. There were several ways he could answer this. He could, of course, be utterly truthful and tell him that he’d burned the thing on account of it being made of meat and killing one of the librarians. He almost laughed at the thought. At worst, Gerard would complain to someone about Jon being unhelpful; at best, he’d find it funny, but he’d demand a real answer once he was done laughing about it.

He could lie and stall by saying that the book was still on its way. But that was a temporary fix at best, and it would only lead Gerard to keep coming in and asking.

And would that really be so bad? Jon shook his head to clear away the thought.

“Right,” he said again. “A-about that. Unfortunately—” He slipped his bandaged hand behind the desk, out of sight. “—we were unable to find the book in storage. It seems to have been marked incorrectly. It happens sometimes. Though not very often, I assure you,” he added hastily. “But it’s been marked down as missing, I’m afraid.”

“Oh.” Gerard’s face was the very picture of disappointment. “That’s a shame. Really did need that one.”

“Terribly sorry for the inconvenience.” Jon tried to sound like he meant it.

It was hard to force down the sheer, overwhelming relief. Just last night he’d regretted his own paranoia, but now? If he hadn’t gone back, if he hadn’t checked for the book…

Well, the library might not have been closed yesterday. And he didn’t have the first shift at the circulation desk. And whoever did might have been someone who didn’t know, someone who wasn’t haunted by the name Jurgen Leitner, who might have taken the book from the cart and handed it straight over—

The unwelcome memory of Mr. Lattimer’s body rose up behind his eyes, juxtaposed over the young man standing before him.

As a child, he’d doomed someone else to a gruesome death that should have been his. So maybe this time… maybe he’d actually…

“Well then,” said Gerard, shaking him out of his bubble of thoughts. “Guess that’s—er, guess I’ll look elsewhere…”

“Right,” said Jon. “Unless there was anything else you needed…?” He tried not to sound too hopeful.

“No, thanks, that’s it,” said Gerard, already turning away. “Thanks for all the help.”

“Oh, I hardly—I mean, I didn’t really do much, in the end.”

Gerard regarded him for a moment, head tilted to one side with a thoughtful look. Then, quite without warning, he smiled at him. “Don’t sell yourself short. You were great.”

“O-of course,” Jon stammered as Gerard turned to leave again. “Oh, wait—wait a moment.”

Gerard looked back. “Yeah?”

Jon dug into his pocket, pulling out the lighter. “Is this yours?” he asked, placing it on the desk. “I found it on one of the tables in the reading room, and I remembered you had it the other day…”

Instead of taking it, Gerard simply flashed him one last grin. “Keep it,” he said. “I’ve got loads.”

“It’s really not good to keep ignition sources in a library,” Jon protested, feeling inordinately flustered.

Gerard laughed, a brief, bright thing, and—

“D’you want to get coffee?” Jon blurted out.

The smile froze on Gerard’s face, before giving way to surprise. “What?”

A stab of terror nearly robbed Jon of his words, before he found his voice again and forged ahead. “Do you—I mean. Do you want to get coffee sometime?” he repeated. Shit. Shit, he was doing this, how was he already doing this? “With me?” He wanted to kick himself, of course he’d know he meant it that way. “I—my shift ends at noon today. If you’re free. I-if you want to, I mean.”

Gerard blinked at him, so utterly bewildered that it might have been funny if Jon’s heart weren’t currently climbing into his throat. “You—wait. Is this… are you asking me on a date?”

He said it so incredulously, as if the idea that Jon would ask him on a date were utterly incomprehensible to him. Rapidly, Jon’s heart sank back down.

“Yes,” Tina leapt in helpfully. “He is. Aren’t you, Jon?”

She nudged him none too gently. “Y-yes,” he said, because it wasn’t as if he could dig himself any deeper. “That—that was the intention.”

“Huh.” Gerard shrugged. “Sure.”

The whiplash made Jon dizzy for a moment. “Really?”

“Yeah. Noon, right? See you then.” With that, he turned and walked out of the library.

Once he was out of sight, Jon slumped over onto the surface of the desk like a marionette with its strings cut.

Tina patted his back. “Proud of you. Go get that goth D.”

***

It wasn’t that Gerry didn’t know it was a terrible idea—just that he’d had worse ones before. He was still breathing after years of them, in fact. So what was one more?

Jon the librarian was far from the first scarred survivor he’d ever met. They weren’t common, precisely, but nor were they unheard of. Technically he was one, and Mum had been as well, before she carved herself up.

But Gerry knew he was an outlier, and as rare as surviving one brush with the Fears was, meeting two of the things and escaping uneaten from both was on a level of its own. But against all odds, when he looked at the wispy little librarian who’d spent the past week being so divertingly helpful, Gerry could see two separate, distinct marks on him, where there had previously been only one. And they really were distinct from one another. The Flesh was like a shark sometimes, content to take one good bite before losing interest and wandering off, while the wisps of the Web still clung jealously. A scar like that could have been left years ago or the day before they met. You could never tell with the Web.

That added to the risk, of course. For all he knew, this was some ploy from the Mother of Puppets to catch him and draw him in. A little cliche, maybe, but Gerry couldn’t fault it for its efficacy.

He’d said yes, after all.

In his defense, it wasn’t every day he met someone with a nice face, a taste for burning Leitners, and enough luck or fortitude to walk away from two different Powers. Nor was it every day a person like that asked him to… well…

People didn’t flirt with him, was the thing. Anyone who knew enough to be worth talking to either wised up and ran the other way, or turned around and tried to take a chunk out of him.

So, yeah. Might as well give it a shot. See what it was like, while he had the chance.

He had til noon to brace himself, anyway. Not enough time to go back to Mum’s and freshen up, which was a shame. She’d just faded out a couple of days ago, so he knew he’d have the place to himself.

Ah, well.

In spite of himself, Gerry found himself turning his face upward with a grin and an excited spring in his step. It’d be a bit like traveling abroad, or visiting tourist traps, or all the other things he indulged in when Mum was gone. See as much of the world beyond his own as he could, before she finally fucked up and got him killed.

A date! Who’d have thought he’d get to check that one off the bucket list?

#tma fic #jongerry #jonathan sims #gerard keay #safe harbor au #tales from the pit #lady-with-a-deathwish

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aweecrush · 3 years

Text

As soon as she opens the glass door, the October chill immediately comes to tickle her face. She sighs in delight - feck, it's hot in that apartment. Between the room full of people dancing, the various groups scattered all around the place, the smoking and the booze, it's like a damn volcano in there.

The balcony is not actually what you could call small, but even so, she can hear the drunken advice of Orla’s roommate clearly from the other side of it. She doesn’t know the friend she’s talking to, but the sight of the both of them half shouting how great the other is while trying - and failing - not to spill all their wine is as sweet as it is funny. Ah, the outbursts of love of the shitfaced.

A smile on her face, Erin turns towards the other side of the space where, as predicted, she spots the special someone she loves, shitfaced or not.

Her heart immediately drops at the sight of him.

Leaving her glass on the first table she finds, she makes her way towards his dark figure leaning over edge as he gazes at the city. She can’t see his face yet, but his hunched shoulders are indication enough. Not that she needs any, really.

When she wraps her arms around him from behind, James straightens up to make it easier for her. She holds him as close as she can and rests her cheek against his back, breathes him in. He takes one of her hands and kisses it, then laces their fingers together and places them back on his stomach.

There’s the muffled music and the laughs coming from the inside, the shouts from the girls not far. The sounds of the city night life beneath them.

“I’ve missed you tonight,” he says after a while. They’ve barely seen each other since they arrived.

Erin holds him even tighter. “I’ve missed you too.”

But both his hands are covering hers, one of his thumbs drawing slow patterns on her skin, and he’s warm, and he smells good, so good. It’s all perfect now.

“You drunk?” She can hear the smile in his voice. She turns her head just enough to bury her nose between his shoulder blades, a giggle that betrays her current state escaping her lips.

“Yep,” and she feels his chuckle against her chest. “Clare’s much worse though. She’s currently alternating between telling our non-France going story to that French girl and burping in a very horrific and worrying way, so it’s safe to say there's a disaster looming.” James snorts. “You?”

“Not really, no. Although Nick’s waiting for me with a shot competition when I go back inside, so that should change really soon.”

Thanks to her heels, she can drop a couple of kisses on his cheek without having to raise on her tiptoes, a smirk on her lips.

“As much as I love you, and that’s quite a lot to be honest, you do know that there’s no way you’re winning said competition, right?”

He nods, faking seriousness. “Oh yeah. I mean, he’s like a magician or something.”

“Unbeatable.”

“Uh uh. He and Michelle really did find each other, didn’t they - he’s probably the only person I know who can actually drink more than her. I mean, the Halloween party...”

“Clare’s birthday.”

“That Christmas break party.”

“That was impressive.” She feels sick just remembering the amount of vodka involved.

She lets their laughs slowly die down before nuzzling him, dropping a wee kiss behind his ear, another just a bit lower.

She figures now is as good a time as any, isn’t it. “I heard you and Michelle talk in the kitchen earlier.”

The moment the words leave her mouth, she feels him tense against her. Of course he does.

She trails kisses down his neck as an apology for approaching a subject she knows he doesn’t want to. As an encouragement. She buries her face there, waits for a bit. Then, mumbles softly against his skin, “You know she didn’t mean what she said.”

“You know she did.”

Well. He’s not exactly wrong on that one - they both know it.

“She’s just angry, that’s all. You know how she gets.”

She lets one of her hands leave his, and travel on his forearm lazily. Soothingly, she hopes. “She’s just very protective of you. But she shouldn’t have said that.”

“Yeah, well.”

He does that, when he’s upset. Shuts down, coming up with only short answers to let you know that he’d rather not continue this conversation - short, but answers all the same, because he wouldn’t go as far as shutting you out completely. That he'd consider mean, hurtful, and James doesn’t hurt people - he never would.

That’s why it sucks even more to have to watch when people hurt him.

She wants to tell him that Michelle will come back to her senses in the morning, that she’ll regret her harsh words and apologize for them, sincerely. That she’ll hit him in the shoulder for good measure, and that it will be that, over in a second. Because well - it will, really. There’s no doubt about that.

But the thing is, he already knows all that. The thing is, Michelle’s usual lack of delicacy and moderation isn’t the problem here, far from it. She wishes that it was. Much easier to deal with, wouldn’t it.

Pressing her whole body against his, Erin brushes her lips on the back of his neck, and lets the hair at his nape tickle her nose as she lingers there a little.

“I’m sorry your mum isn’t coming to the wedding, baby.”

“It’s fine.”

An answer too fast, too rehearsed to be sincere. Not that she would have believed it had he been more convincing.

She rests her chin on his shoulder, brings her hand back over his own. “No, it’s not - not at all.”

He snorts. “Of course it is, Erin. It makes sense, really: I mean, who wouldn’t choose a vacation that may or may not happen with a guy they’ve known for five minutes over the most important day of their son’s life?”

The irony in his voice does nothing to cover the bitterness underneath it. The pain.

Feck, she hates this.

After a few seconds, he huffs. “Whatever - I don’t care.”

Ever since the day he had changed his mind about going to London all those years ago, since that moment he’d decided to stay in Derry and she’d been able to breathe properly again, James had started to see things more clearly when it came to Cathy. He’d told her so - told her what Michelle had said to convince him not to go with her, told her how it felt to finally understand how right she was. That day, and after.

In the days, the weeks that had followed, it had stayed with him, turned again and again in his head. How she’d only take care of him when there was nothing more distracting to do when he was a kid. How his stepdad Paul had been the one raising him, playing with him. Caring.

The reasons - excuses - he had made to explain her leaving him in Derry without so much as a goodbye had started to fall apart one by one, leaving what she did only for what it was: an abandonment. She’d abandoned him, plain and simple.

And it had hurt, really hurt, but yet, he hadn’t blamed her - never would. Again, he was just far too good for that. She was still his mum, and he still loved her.

So he hadn’t said anything when she called to say she wouldn’t be able to take him the Christmas, then the summer after her visit. He never complained that she actually never visited him again in Derry after that. Michelle would fume everytime he called her, hating that he was always the one doing the effort (but she never said anything to him, only to them girls - none of them would ever say anything, because none of them wanted to make him sadder than he already was).

Things never changed. Not when he finished high school, not when he finished Uni. To this day, she hadn’t really congratulated him on his first nor his second job, least of all learnt what it was. And again, James never complained, because again, he loved her, and he could never really resent her. He’d lowered his expectations more and more over the years, learnt to be disappointed each time anyway. But he never said anything.

It affected him, though. She knew, she was there to see it. They all were. Ma Mary won’t even let the name of ‘that heartless woman’ be uttered in her house, even though she always makes sure never to show or say anything in front of James.

He cared - still does, always will. How couldn’t he?

Desperate for something, anything to make him feel even a tiny bit better, Erin leaves a hundredth kiss against his skin, painfully aware that that won’t be enough.

“You do care. Hey - ” She grabs his hips to turn him in so she can face him when he snorts, and he obliges. She waits until he’s looking at her to speak again. “Of course you do.”

Anyone would be affected by something like this, but him? He’s so sweet, her English, so sensible, and he wears his heart on his sleeve, and she hates how even in the darkness of the night, she can see just how much he does care. Just how heavy his heart is right now.

It was palpable, evident ever since Kathy had called this morning to tell him, but now, as he slowly let his defenses down, sadness and defeat taking over with each second, it’s written all over his beautiful face, and it just breaks her fecking heart.

“I should have expected it, right?”

He chuckles, not an ounce of humor in it. “I mean, missing birthdays - including my 25 and 30, not showing up at graduation, not visiting our flat even once, not this one, not the one before that...That was the next logical step - nothing to be surprised about.”

He shakes his head, and as he looks away, the lights of the balcony reflect on the watery green of his eyes.

His voice is so small when he speaks again, she barely hears it. “I don’t know why I thought it’d be different this time.”

Erin runs her hands up and down his back, hating herself for not being able to do more, to take the pain away from him, just like that.

“Because it should have been," is all she finds to say.

Aye, of course it should have been - just this once, for Christ's sake.

“It’s just...How little do you have to care about your own child to do that, you know. Over and over. Even now - even for this. I told her, once - I told her what you mean to me. I guess I just thought...I guess I thought that it was something every parent wanted to see for their kid, and that for once, that would include her, too.”

He finally looks back at her at that, and suddenly, she sees the fifteen year-old sitting next to her in Sister Michael’s office the day they met again, the heartbreak clear in his eyes as he understands that his mum left him.

She fecking hates all of it.

Helpless, Erin brings their foreheads together, her arms firmly wrapped around his torso as he lets out a heavy sigh.

“She does care, James.”

“You don't have to lie.”

“I’m not - of course she does. And she loves you. She's just- "

“Selfish? Self centered? I’m running out of the polite words used by Michelle now, the others were much more colourful,” and Erin backs away slightly, smiling at him knowingly.

“In her own world, let’s say. I don’t think she realizes just how much damage she does. And I’m not going to try to make excuses for her, for this or for everything else - it is shitty, and she’s an adult and she should realize what she’s doing and do better. I’m just saying...She doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t love you, because she does.”

He looks away again at that, and it’s a punch to the stomach to realize that yeah - the thought did cross his mind. It really did.

Slipping her hands from his back, she brings them to his cheeks, gently making him look at her again, hating the sadness she finds in his eyes.

She smiles. “She does love you. And it sucks so bad that she doesn’t show it to you, because she should, and she should realize just how lucky she is to have you, for feck sake, but...But please don’t forget that you do have a family who makes you their number one priority, and who always will. I mean, I think that was a smile I saw on your Aunt Deirdre’s face when we told her - an actual smile!”, and she’s proud of herself when he chuckles at that, a true smile of his own lightening his face.

“And we all know that Michelle punching you harder than usual that day was her stupid way to cover the tears I definitely saw in her eyes - even though true, there were nothing compared to the way Paul just - well, broke down, really.”

He smirks. “Even Clare didn’t weep this much.”

“Which really, is saying something. Also, my family loves you more than they love me, Ma, Anna and Orla don’t even bother to pretend otherwise at this point, and I think at least one of us should take pleasure in that.” He’s laughing now, and yeah, this - this is how she wants him to be for the rest of their lives. Laughing, his squinting eyes shining - that’s what he deserves.

Biting down her own smile, Erin draps her arms around his neck, bringing him close. “And for what it’s worth, you also have me. You’re my person, remember? My favorite one in the whole world. I’m here - I’ll always be here.”

Always.

“Also, it will still be the best party ever, because I didn’t want to say anything, but I’ve prepared a massive, massive surprise, and - ”

But then his lips are on hers, and Erin just holds him closer, fingers tangled in his brown curls, and kisses him back.

Aye - more than fifteen years she's known him, and that boy still manages to leave her light headed. It vaguely occurs to her that maybe she should be worried about that.

“Thank you,” he says when they eventually part, still so close that she feels his words on her lips. She smirks.

“For what, the surprise? Because to be honest, I haven't actually figured out what it would be just yet: I just know it will be so grand, you'll - ”

She’s not exactly surprised when James kisses her again to shut her up - she definitely doesn’t mind, either. She can feel his chuckle against her as he pecks her once, twice, then moves to her cheek, her jaw, and her heart swells in her chest.

“For everything," he smiles, looking back at her and pinching her side playfully. "For not piling up on Michelle's heartfelt opinions about my mum, tonight or ever, even though I know that you hate her too."

She frowns. "Hey, I don’t hate her.” There’s no accusation in his tone or in his eyes, but she needs him to know. “I swear, I’ve never hated her. I just hate the situation, and you being sad.” She lets her fingers run on the back of his neck, lets her eyes travel over that handsome face of his. “I mean, we have her to thank for you, haven't we? How could I hate her, silly."

He’s looking at her that way now, that way that’s far too soft, too - something, and that always makes her cheeks redden. Tonight is no exception.

She’s not exactly sure how long they stay out there, kissing like they’re teenagers at a party again. She does hears herself moan in disapproval when he eventually leans back, and he nuzzles her to make amend, amused.

“Come on, let’s go back inside - you’re going to catch a cold out here.”

To be fair, she is freezing her arse off. But -

“You sure you’re okay?”

He’s got that wee soft smile of his on his face now, and, before she can say anything else, James brings his warm hands on her neck and puts an even softer last kiss on the corner of her lips.

“Of course I’m okay - I’m marrying you.”

Truth is, she’s pretty sure she looks like an eejit, beaming and blushing like she is. Again, she can’t bring herself to mind.

Lacing their fingers together, Erin leads the way back inside. “Come on, then - let’s get shitfaced, my love.”

#erin x james #james x erin #jerin #derry girls #fanfiction

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ibijau · 3 years

Note

you’ve managed to give me an unquenched taste for nhs/jzx, and now i’ve come crawling back for more. them with 69 please (maybe a/b/o, you do a good job with it)? love your stuff!

“This is all your fault anyway,” Nie Huaisang grumbled, burrowing himself further into his pile of embroidered cushions.

Jin Zixuan, kneeling next to the bed, made an effort not to roll his eyes. He had learned, over the past few months, that it was a dreadful idea. Nie Huaisang, already capricious because his brother spoiled him, had become quite temperamental as of late. It was bad enough when he started shouting and arguing, but sometimes he started crying when he was upset, and that was just the worst.

Besides, he knew that Nie Huaisang didn’t really blame him for this situation. It had been Nie Huaisang who had suggested they fool around, after Jin Zixuan’s engagement had fallen through, and it was Nie Huaisang again who had professed that there really wasn’t much of a chance of any consequences for said fooling around. An omega outside of heat wasn’t that fertile, Nie Huaisang had said, and neither were betas in general, he’d added. Between a mother who had ordered him to never share anyone’s bed until marriage and considered she’d done her job educating him, and a father who’d given him a list of brothels for his fourteenth birthday and told him to figure things out himself (a list Jin Zixuan had promptly burned, terrified his mother might find it and punish him), Jin Zixuan hadn’t been in a position to do anything except trust his friend.

A mistake, as it had turned out.

A huge mistake. Nearly as huge as Nie Huaisang’s round stomach.

“More tea,” Nie Huaisang demanded.

Jin Zixuan immediately obeyed, pouring some fresh tea for the other boy.

“How was the archery contest then?” Nie Huaisang asked after taking a sip. “Da-ge said you placed well?”

“I came third,” Jin Zixuan confirmed, picking a slice of peach from the tray he’d brought, and holding it for Nie Huaisang to bite into, which he did. “Only because Lan Wangji threw a tantrum though, so I feel I didn’t do so well. Everyone wondered why you weren’t there, by the way. Jiang Cheng was very cross.”

“He’s always cross anyway,” Nie Huaisang retorted, before opening his mouth to silently demand another slice of peach. Jin Zixuan obeyed of course. “Did they figure anything was off?”

Jin Zixuan shook his head. Although Jiang Cheng had seemed somewhat suspicious, when Nie Mingjue hinted that he just didn’t like to bring his brother in Wen territory, not even for a discussion conference, everyone bought into it. Who would have imagined the truth, anyway? Nie Huaisang acted a little flirty with everyone, but he was the one person everyone would have assumed to be knowledgeable enough to avoid such a situation.

Even if somehow the news breached out, who would suspect Jin Zixuan of fathering that child though? Although they had become quite close in private, in public Jin Zixuan had still acted aggravated by his friend’s antics in public, to the point of usually refusing to acknowledge they were friends at all. It would have been easy to pretend this situation had nothing to do with him, to leave Nie Huaisang to his trouble and go on with his own life without ever thinking of his bastard child, except to remember in the future that it couldn’t be used as a match for the legitimate children he’d have with a spouse chosen by his parents.

It would have been easy.

It would have been what his father would have done, what his mother would have encouraged, still hoping for an alliance with the Jiang.

Instead Jin Zixuan had run to Qinghe the instant he’d received a letter from his friend hinting at his predicament, and hadn’t left again for months, not until his father threatened to come get him by force if he didn’t show up at the discussion conference in Nightless City. Even then, he’d refuse to go home with his parents, pretending he was tired of Lanling and wanted to explore and Night Hunt on his own. He’d managed to convince his mother that his father’s behaviour disgusted him too much to be around him lately, and his father that he’d found a pretty face to have fun with in Qinghe.

It wasn’t even a lie. Nie Huaisang really was pretty, and Jin Zixuan really despised his father for all the bastards he’d sired and abandoned over the country.

“I wish I had been there with everyone,” Nie Huaisang sighed. “It would have been fun.”

“It really wasn’t,” Jin Zixuan insisted. “The Wen were furious to have lost their own tournament, your brother says they’re probably going to retaliate in some way.”

Surprised to hear this, Nie Huaisang sat a little straighter in his nest of cushions.

“Da-ge said told me there was nothing to worry about!”

Jin Zixuan winced, and offered his friend another slice of peach as a distraction. It didn’t quite work, Nie Huaisang pushed away the piece of fruit and frowned.

“Since when does da-ge even talk to you? Wasn’t he mad about…” Nie Huaisang gestured at his round stomach. “Did you two make up?”

Jin Zixuan shrugged. He didn’t know where he stood with Nie Mingjue. The man had punched him in the face hard enough to break his nose when Jin Zixuan had told him he was responsible for Nie Huaisang’s predicament, and then refused all of Jin Zixuan’s offer for an honour marriage. But at the same time, he hadn’t kicked Jin Zixuan out of the Unclean Realm yet, and didn’t seem to mind that Jin Zixuan was spending most of his time in Nie Huaisang’s room now that Nie Huaisang couldn’t appear in public.

It would be a far cry to say that Nie Mingjue liked Jin Zixuan, but he might have somewhat approved of him, at that was already more than Jin Zixuan would have expected.

“I wonder if this is it,” Nie Huaisang sighed, flopping back against his cushions with a sour expression. When Jin Zixuan threw him an inquisitive look, he clarified: “I mean, if there will be a war. I know Qinghe Nie is ready for it, da-ge made sure of it, but the others… well, first of all, for small sects it’s a big risk. And then… the Lans are pacifists, Jiang zongzhu is the backbone of overcooked noodles, and your father…”

Nie Huaisang hesitated, but there was nothing he could say that Jin Zixuan hadn’t already thought.

“My father is pretty likely to side with the Wen, unless they insult him somehow,” Jin Zixuan said, and while Nie Huaisang grimaced, he still nodded a touch too fast.

“If he does, what will you do?” Nie Huaisang asked.

The question, asked with affected casualness, took Jin Zixuan by surprise, but not as much as the speed and intensity with which the answer hit him.

“I’ll fight alongside your brother,” he exclaimed, taking one of Nie Huaisang’ hands in both of his. “I’ll protect your and our… and your child, no matter what.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes went wide at that earnest declaration. He quickly looked away, trying to discreetly blink away a few tears.

“Nobody’s asking you to do that,” Nie Huaisang mumbled. “I’m… you don’t even like me all that much. You don’t need to turn against me for someone you just happened to fuck once or twice, someone’s that’s not even your friend.”

It was Jin Zixuan’s turn to stare with wide eyes.

There was that funny thing about Nie Huaisang. Because he was the first one to point out his faults, the first one to laugh at his own expense, because he never took himself seriously, it was easy to think he really didn’t care what others thought of him. But he listened and memorised everything that was said or done, and took it to heart.

“You are my friend,” Jin Zixuan retorted. More than a friend, perhaps. He’d really enjoyed Nie Huaisang’s company even in Gusu, and after several months in each other’s company, with this child they’d have in just two or three weeks… maybe it wasn’t only friendship anymore, though it definitely was that as well. “And do you think I could ever look at myself in a mirror if I abandoned my friend, my child?”

“And since you’re so vain, it’d be hard for you to live without mirrors,” Nie Huaisang said with a devious smile that made Jin Zixuan want to… but they hadn’t kissed since he’d rushed to Qinghe months ago. It used to be Nie Huaisang initiating everything, but he hadn’t started anything all this time, so to Jin Zixuan the message was clear. He might have started feeling more than he ought to, but Nie Huaisang probably didn’t want anything but friendship. “You really would stay here with m… with us?” Nie Huaisang insisted. “Against your family?”

“At this point, aren’t you family as well?” Jin Zixuan asked, one of his hands letting go of Nie Huaisang’s to come and rest on his round stomach. Right then the child was quiet, but he could still feel its bursts of spiritual energy now that the date of birth was approaching. “Both of you are who I want to be with.”

“You’re so stupid,” Nie Huaisang grumbled, putting his free hand over Jin Zixuan’s on his belly. “If you keep that up, I’ll tell da-ge to say yes if you ask again that we marry, and then where will we be?”

“Together,” Jin Zixuan replied, his heart thundering in his chest. “So maybe I’ll ask again, while we can.”

“Idiot,” Nie Huaisang grumbled, turning away as if that could hide how red his face was turning. “I hope the baby is smarter than you.”

“Hopefully it’ll get your brain, my good looks, and your brother’s good sense.”

Nie Huaisang, still looking away, still red in the face, laughed. It was the most beautiful sound in the world, and Jin Zixuan hoped he would continue hearing it for the rest of his life, however short or long that might be.

#sangxuan #jin zixuan #nie huaisang #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #a/b/o #jau writes #today in things that could so easily go so wrong because of canon...#Anonymous

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obeiii-mee · 4 years

Note

Hi I hope you're fine! Can you make the reaction of the brothers to a Mc who managed to overtake Salomon and made 100 pacts, the 100 th being ... Diavolo himself ?! (idk if it is really possible) Thank you love on you

I don’t really know if it’s possible either but I gave it a go anyway! I love this concept tho because MC, being the powerhouse they are, now has absolute control of 100 demons one which is actual prince of hell. Idk why I find that funny tbh.

I hope you’re well too and that you enjoy reading these HCs!

————————————

The Brothers Reacting to MC who made 100 pacts:

Lucifer:

-*Surprised pikachu face*

-I’m sorry, w a t?

-Not only did an average human,with no magical capabilities whatsoever, beat a spectacular sorcerer in the span of just one year and managed to make 100 pacts before him

-But they also made a pact with Lord Diavolo as a grand finale??? (MC knows how to leave DevilDom with class holy shit)

-If you look closely enough, you can see Lucifer’s wheels spinning inside his head

-And here he thought you were going to get eaten in the first few days

-He needs to sit down for a few moments, his fucking logic has decided to take a walk

-He really went 0-0

-And on one hand, he’s totally impressed and actually very proud of their little exchange student

-But on the other hand, when tf did you have the time to make 100 pacts??

-You talked with at least 92 other demons and didn’t get murdered?

-Are all humans this hard to kill off or it just you?

-Taking aside his confusion and the way he worries like a middle aged parent, he’s actually pretty boastful about your situation

-Pride on another level, I’m telling you

- Pretty smug about it to Solomon too which is concerning because he isn’t really supposed to have favourites in the exchange program

-But he totally does

-“MC, you’re full of surprises aren’t you? You’re ability to adapt here is very impressive. Just don’t get too reckless, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

-Aw your tsundere and arrogant boyfriend actually really cares about your well being

Mammon:

-“But I’m still your first man, right?”

-Literally the first thing that leaves his mouth when he finds out

-Doesn’t matter how many pacts you make, he’s always going to insist he’s your first and therefore your best pact of them all

-He may freak out a bit at first because he doesn’t like the idea of you possibly chatting it up with other demons but he’s pretty chill

-Until you tell him about Lord Diavolo

-“Guess who just made a pact with Lord Diavolo!!”

-“Is it someone famous?”

-He’s a bit scared because the price you have to pay to be in a pact with Lord Diavolo is pretty damn high

-But if you keep insisting you will be fine, his worry will subside

-He’s a bit smug, like Lucifer, knowing you beat a powerful sorcerer in a non existent contest that he just made up in his mind

-Like “In your face Solomon, MY HUMAN got to make 100 pacts before you had the chance. Haha what a loser.”

-I feel like the brothers sometimes wish to just abandon Mammon somehowere so they don’t have to deal with this

-Dude doesn’t care how many pacts you have or with who as long as you remember ‘he was your first man.’

-Of course you of all people would be able to attain such a significant achievement

-You were his human after all

-No matter what you do, he will be even more smitten with you than before

Levi:

-“That’s cool. Will you pass me my headphones.”

-“....”

-“Wait....you did whAT?”

-You’re telling him that he barely has the courage to step outside the House of Lamentation but you can go right ahead and start making pacts with demons like it’s nothing???

-Did he just get beaten at life by a normie?? His normie even??

-He’s really panicking because the shit you’d have to deal with when making that kind of bond with Lord Diavolo is apparently very terrifying and he’s scared something bad will happen

-Pacts also mean markings on your body, so his whole jealousy thing kinda sparks here

-Because ‘it’s not fair you have all these people’s pact marks on you while mine is barely visible!”

-Even though his is like, really obvious too???

-Other than that, he just feels like you’re gaining EXP and getting stronger, like a video game character which is cool

-I want him to show up whenever MC gets in a new pact and just shout ‘Level Up!’ at the top of his lungs lmao

-He doesn’t have that much of an opinion on Solomon, besides his cooking, but he’s impressed and a bit scared that you can outdo a human like him in something as dangerous as this

-Lololololo, Solomon got wrecked by a human normie what a noob XD XD #badassnormie #solomoncanteven #gameoversorcerer

-The brothers seem pretty adamant at rubbing the salt into Solomon’s wounds, can we get an f in the chat for our white haired wizard boi

Satan:

-He knew that humans were capable of a lot of things but what the fuck?

-How is that even possible???? What is the likelyhood of a random human managing to make 100 pacts???

-He is probably the most unsettled because he relies on probability and logic to get him through his day to day life

-And that shit don’t make no fucking sense

-He’s not agitated, just very shocked

-And then he realises the potential threats you’ve been exposed to considering all the demons you’ve had a chat with

-So now he’s just thanking Lord Diavolo that you weren’t eaten alive by some lower level demon scum

-Don’t be surprised if he asks you how you went about when you started making pacts with demons

-You were always a bit of a special case and you certainly stood out from the very beginning but this was something completely different

-For a human like you, that is a very respected achievement you’ve unlocked

-Satan figures that since you made pacts with him and his brothers, you would try to do so with Lord Diavolo too

-But he actually accepted?? You just kinda gave up part of your soul to the demon prince and now you have full control over him???

-It’s amazing how easily you could make demons of all things to trust you

-He respects that and also appreciates your tactical approach to this as well

-It’d be pretty easy to summon a demon to get your ass out of danger if the need arises

-He has no idea what you do to him but it’s strange he would rather let you ramble on about the backstory of every pact you made in the past year than read his collection of books

-Wrath certainly isn’t the only thing in his heart right now

Asmo:

-#conflicted

-His partner beat his ex fuck-buddy at making a pact with Lord Diavolo

-Asmo knew you were special ever since that retreat at Lord Diavolo’s palace when you managed to summon him with such power

-But he definitely wouldn’t have guessed you would be capable of something like this

-Your bravery when it comes to this sort of thing endears him a lot

-He will probably want to see all of your pact marks now (haha you’re in danger)

-Unlike his brothers, he knew damn well why you had managed to make around 100 pacts in just one year

-Demons aren’t used to anything genuine or with good intent

-So, it makes sense they would be attracted like magnets to you and your approachable, kind nature

-After all, demons can’t deal with temptation very well

-Solomon is cunning and ominous, not that different from anyone else down there and it’s a fact the brothers don’t even trust him that much

-But Lord Diavolo?

-“MC honey you hit the jackpot! Tell me every little detail!! What happened? How did the topic of a pact come up?”

-He’s not worried about you overall

-Not because he doesn’t care but he believes that if you can survive for a year with the seven avatars of sin and also convince 93 other demons to make a pact with you, then you can handle whatever Lord Diavolo throws at you

-He probably buys a bunch of revealing clothing you can show off all of your marks because they look ‘fabulous’

-It’s the only think he’s gonna talk about for a while because how many other humans can say they have control of the prince of Hell???

-Asmo also acknowledges that Diavolo must have trusted you a lot for him to agree to this which he thinks is incredible

-He will definitely listen if you have any stories on the pacts you made because he finds them very thrilling and he loves the sound of your voice!!

-Again, he doesn’t need human souls, just a mirror, some skin products and drama to survive

-And you, if I had to guess

Beel:

-The calmest our of the seven about it

-You made a bunch of pacts? Cool, it just shows how strong and independent you are

-Which made him respect you even more to be honest

-He flinches a bit when you tell him about Lord Diavolo because he knows that the prince isn’t the type to agree to anything without being given something in return

-Even if he knows you can handle yourself, he will be right there beside you to help you out

-Also, uh, don’t tell Belphie about the pact thing Diavolo. He might blow a fuse

-You guys work out together sometimes and he is usually utterly mesmerised by all the pact marks you have on your body

-He kinda wishes you would have asked him or one of his brothers to come along with you when you made your pacts

-Just in case things went wrong

-He regrets a lot of things that had happened until now, but one thing he absolutely cherishes is the pact you made with him

-Beel is aware that his brothers think the same and if you think you can deal with the pressure of having some many demons under control, then he won’t nag you too much about being careful

-As for the Solomon thing, he doesn’t have much to say

-I mean, yeah, he is a sorcerer and you’re just a human but if you could make a pact with Lord Diavolo in such a small time frame before he even had the chance to?

-It means you’re just as special as he is

-And definitely a better cook

Belphie:

-ok maybe humans aren’t as stupid as he originally thought them to be

-Making pacts with so many demons is something that takes strength and intelligence, so props to you

-He would never admit it, but you being able to do all this shit without batting an eyelid is seriously restoring his love for humans and their culture

-might take a while tho

-He also wonders when you had the time to make so many bonds, considering he spends most of the day with you at RAD and at home

-Eh, he was probably asleep

-His view of you before the incident did a full 180 degrees

-This sort of thing in DevilDom is something worth praising, especially for an average human like you

-And ‘I guess you don’t look all that bad with so many pact marks on your body *angy boi blush* but I still like mine best!’

-It might be best not to mention the Lord Diavolo thing, otherwise his brain might snap in two

-But turns out, he seems pretty relaxed about it

-Too relaxed, I would say

-“Hey do you think you could use your pact with Lord Diavolo to do something that would tarnish his reputation and maybe embarrass Lucifer while you’re at it, idk.”

-Ah, so that’s what it was

-He’s such a mischievous, spoiled brat

-“No Belphie shush.”

-“I’m just saying-“

-Despite him hating humans way less nowadays, he still holds somewhat of a grudge against them

-Old habits die hard I suppose

-Especially for Solomon whom he never liked in the first place

-He finds it very amusing when he figures out you just beat Solomon at his life’s work in under a year

-He has a good chuckle about it but never actually brings it up in front of him

-Because he knows you’re gonna flick him over the ear for it

-Belphie is the youngest sibling and therefore the spoiled child, can’t change my mind

(Ok so poor Solomon, I kinda want to give him a hug now lol. Hope I didn’t make these too repetitive or short. Thank you for reading!)

Al~

#obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me imagines #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #⭐️ requests #🕯 general #☂️ demon brothers

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averykedavra · 3 years

Text

i keep to myself (i want to break through)

Uh, hi! It’s been a while. Again. But I’m here to deliver content before vanishing once more! To get back in the writing groove, I brushed off an older story, one I started right after FWSA. I wrote the first few pages, dropped it for months, and now I’ve cobbled together an angsty mess from the remains. Yay! This is also my first time writing c!Thomas’ perspective, so I hope it turned out alright!

(Title is from Prom Dress by mxmtoon. This fic is on Ao3 here!)

Pairings: platonic Logicality and also Thomas

Words: 9937 (i swear this was meant to be short)

Warnings: crying, a detailed description of a panic attack, overthinking and spiraling, anxiety, self-deprecation and self-esteem issues, identity crisis, maybe a bit of disassociation

Thomas should have been excited.

All afternoon, he’d been thrilled. He’d barely remembered to eat dinner. He’d composed sappy tweets and sang Can You Feel the Love Tonight? until his neighbors told him to stop. He’d smiled so much that his face hurt, flapped his hands until they ached, and danced around in dizzy disbelief.

Nico. Nico, who was a poet and who was funny and who had the nicest smile and wanted to meet up again.

Thomas was overjoyed. Thomas was ecstatic. Thomas couldn’t believe this was real, but after pinching himself five times, he’d confirmed it wasn’t a dream.

Nico.

He had a date.

Thomas should be excited.

And he was, and then very abruptly, he wasn’t.

He’d felt it approaching even before dinner. He’d sang louder to drown it out. He’d grinned almost forcibly, dragging his thoughts back on track, thinking this is a good thing until he could almost ignore the creeping numb clouds in the back of his mind.

And his happiness soured. He ran out of energy. He collapsed on the couch, turning on the Parks and Rec bloopers before a voice told him to watch something educational. He turned on a nature channel instead. Swans mated for life. Wild.

Thomas was feeling, slowly, more and more terrible.

He should do something to stop it. He should call a friend, eat some good food, focus on the positives. He could feel himself inching closer to a cliff, and there was still time to turn back, there was still time--

He got up to microwave some pizza. Maybe eating would make him feel better. He’d exercised today. It was fine.

Everything was fine.

Why did he feel so weird? This had been a good day. Maybe one of his best. He’d gone to that mall directionless, and now someone wanted to date him, a lovely someone who made him feel itty bitty butterflies in his chest and sunshine in his heart.

Except for now. Now the butterflies felt soaked in ice, and the sunshine burned through him and made his eyes prickle.

The microwave hummed away and he bounced back and forth waiting for it. Just a minute until pizza, and then pizza and nature channels and a long evening, maybe video games and soda and a friend on the phone. He’d give himself a self-care night. He deserved it.

Thomas waited for the pizza.

The microwave coughed, scraped, and whirred its way along.

It was dark in the kitchen. He ran a hand along the counter. It was so cold and smooth that it felt like he was touching nothing at all. The moon hung low outside the window, accompanied by the ugly yellow glow of streetlights. He’d forgotten to turn on a light in the kitchen.

Thomas shuffled towards the light switch, decided not to bother, and grabbed a plastic plate for the pizza instead. It was one of the bad plates that could reasonably be a frisbee. A chip and dent combo on the edge nicked his fingers. He winced. Maybe he should get another plate.

Nah, why bother? This plate was fine.

The pizza should be done by now, right? It’d been five minutes. Had it?

The TV was playing in the background. Thomas had forgotten to turn it off. That’d waste electricity--why did he always forget stuff, stupid--

Thomas took a deep shuddering breath.

In and out. This was fine. No matter that he could feel tears clustering at the edge of his vision, no matter that his breath struggled in his chest like a living thing, no matter that the kitchen was dark and still and quiet and made him feel like he was drowning.

There was no reason to be upset.

He should be excited.

Ding!

Thomas almost cried in relief, throwing open the microwave. He grabbed the pizza and opened the box.

Frost clustered on the edge of the crust. It needed more time in the microwave. He’d done the wrong amount of minutes.

Of course he had.

Thomas let the pizza fall, and a swell of tears rose up to meet him. He grabbed the plate and took it back to the couch, which accomplished nothing but he needed to do something, he couldn’t wait in that stupid kitchen for a second longer--

Thomas collapsed on the couch again, and tried to make himself very small in the corner, like his impending breakdown wouldn’t notice him if he hid.

He pressed a hand to his eyes.

“Come on,” he told himself, and his voice didn’t sound like his own. It wavered and was itchy and staticky, grating at his ears. “Come on, get it together, come on--”

His phone beeped.

Someone was texting him.

Oh, no. Now he had to open his eyes, get the phone, text them, be funny and nice when he texted them, help them if they needed help--too many things, and Thomas was frozen, because he’d meant to microwave the pizza, and the TV was still playing and casting shuddering light over his blanket, and the world was dark and there were too many things to do--

Panic.

He was panicking, wasn’t he?

Thomas took a deep breath. And realized he hadn’t done that for almost half a minute. The air was a relief, and he almost cried right then and there, sunk in one dark corner of the couch.

“Virgil,” he forced out. “Virgil, are you--”

He didn’t finish the sentence. He couldn’t find the words. What would Virgil do, anyway? Virgil would just make this worse--that wasn’t nice--he couldn’t breathe--Virgil was clearly not okay, and--

And Thomas was going to cry, and there was no reason for that, and logically speaking he should be fine--

He was terrified.

Logically speaking, he was terrified, because logically speaking, he’d made a huge mistake.

Thomas choked on a sob. He sent out a summons--anyone, please, anyone, Logan or Patton or Virgil or De--Janus. Hell, he’d take Remus at this point, Remus could knock him out so he wouldn’t have to stay in this itchy dark room with a million things colliding and the TV still on and the pizza cold and the lights off and his phone probably blowing up with texts as everyone slowly started to hate him--

“Kiddo?”

Thomas jerked his head up and kicked wildly at the noise.

“Oh! Sorry,” Patton said, his voice soft. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Can you breathe for me, kiddo?”

Thomas took one deep breath.

“That’s great! I’m proud of you. Can you do it again?”

Another deep breath.

“Good job,” Patton said, and Thomas’ vision cleared enough to see tear tracks on his cheeks.

“You--” Thomas started. But he lost his sentence as soon as he found it.

“Shh, don’t try and talk just yet, okay?” Patton’s eyes were achingly sympathetic. “Can I touch you?”

Thomas thought about it. He nodded jerkily.

“Okay. Thanks for telling me.” Patton’s hand slipped into his, warm and soft, reminding Thomas oddly of his actual dad. “Keep breathing, kiddo. You’re doing amazing.”

A simple instruction. One thing. No other things, no other things around him and no past and no future and no friends or family or Nico. Just him. Just Patton. It was dark and still and Thomas had been told what to do.

Thomas kept breathing.

Patton smiled at him, and the snarled mass in Thomas’ chest lessened, bit by bit by bit. He tried not to think. He tried just to see, to see and hear and touch.

What was it Logan taught him?

Five things he could see.

The glow of the TV over the couch. The moon outside the pale window. The blanket over his legs. His hand in Patton’s. Patton’s face, streaked with tears and so incredibly soft.

Four things he could touch.

The couch. His blanket. His clothes. Patton’s hand.

Three things he could hear.

The murmur of the television--the channel had moved on to flamingos, apparently. The rustle of the blanket when he shifted. The hum of the fridge.

Two things he could smell.

That cold pizza. A vague smell of sweat which was probably him, thanks to all the running around from earlier.

One thing he could taste.

Dinner. Chicken pad thai.

Thomas closed his eyes, opened them, and found himself sitting on the couch, watching TV, with Patton holding his hand.

He was here.

He’d always been here.

“It’s okay,” Patton whispered, and Thomas realized he’d been talking this whole time, murmuring words of encouragement. “It’s okay, you’re doing amazing, just let it out.”

Thomas squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

Patton’s face lit up. “No biggie,” he said, “who would I be if I left you on your own?”

Reasonable, Thomas didn’t say. Normal.

“Thank you,” he said instead. “It means a lot.”

Patton gave him a long, unreadable look, before patting his hand and standing up. He looked around and clucked his tongue. “It’s so dark! Wait here, I’ll turn on the lights.”

“I can do it,” Thomas protested.

Patton didn’t roll his eyes, but he huffed a bit, and Thomas sank back into the couch with a sigh. Patton was right. Thomas’ limbs felt like jelly and if he tried to move, he’d probably fall right off the couch.

Patton milled about the room, turning on the kitchen light and the light by the stairway and the lamp behind the TV. When he saw the frozen pizza in the microwave, Thomas braced himself for a chiding. Patton was always critical of his cooking skills. Instead, Patton quietly closed the microwave and punched in several numbers. The microwave whirred to life.

Thomas looked down at the plate on the couch cushion. He picked it up and noticed his hands were shaking. “Do you--”

Patton glanced back. “I’m getting you some water, kiddo. Don’t worry, just get yourself cozy, okay?”

Thomas nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Thanks, buddy.”

“No need to thank me!” Patton sent Thomas a smile that was marred by the tear tracks on his cheek, the redness of his eyes, and--Thomas suddenly realized--the cat hoodie pulled tight around him. He couldn’t remember the last time Patton had worn the hoodie. It must have been when Logan had first given it to him. Right after--

“I’m a part of you,” Patton continued, his voice a softer version of his usual chipper one. “I want to help you, no matter what.”

Thomas leaned further into the couch and pressed on his eyes to stop the tears. Was he really so pathetic to cry over a part of himself wanting to help him? It was Patton’s job. It didn’t mean that Thomas was a good person, it didn’t mean anything, it just meant that his morality didn’t want him panicking in front of a documentary about flamingos.

“Here,” Patton said, and Thomas almost jumped. Patton had reappeared next to the couch. He handed Thomas a glass of water. Thomas tried not to drop it. When he took a sip, he realized his mouth was dry.

“You can sit down,” Thomas offered, after a few seconds of Patton silently standing nearby.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to--” The microwave dinged behind them, and Patton looked relieved. “Be back in a hop, skip, and a jump, kiddo!”

Thomas laughed a bit and continued drinking the water. Soon, Patton placed a warm plate of pizza on the couch next to Thomas. Thomas picked up a slice and caught the melting cheese with his tongue. It was perfectly cooked.

“Thanks,” Thomas said, for the third or fourth time. “This is great, Pat.”

“Aw, shucks, kiddo!” Patton looked proud of himself. “It’s just microwave pizza. And I think we know who’s the better cook--”

Thomas smiled and rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, spare me the lecture.”

For a second, Patton looked ashamed. Then he brushed off his shirt and looked around the room again. “Anything else I can get you, Thomas?”

Thomas inhaled the rest of the pizza slice before responding. Patton looked uncomfortable. Not like he didn’t want to be there--or at least, Thomas hoped not--but like he didn’t know what to do, now that the threat had subsided. Patton shifted from foot to foot, pulled at the sleeves of his hoodie, and had been crying. He’d been upset. He’d helped Thomas anyway. Thomas had the feeling he wasn’t supposed to let this slide. That wasn’t what good people did.

Or maybe it was. Thomas wasn’t sure. He’d ask Patton, but Patton didn’t need another thing on his plate.

Thomas balanced the plate of pizza in one hand and let his tired, impulsive brain take over. “Sit with me?”

Patton looked surprised for a second, then strangely hesitant. “That’s what you want?”

“Of course.” Thomas nodded to the couch cushion next to him. “It wouldn’t be a party without my good old pop star, would it?”

“Yeah.” Patton nodded rapidly, as if trying to convince himself, and then sat tentatively on the couch. He balanced on the edge of it. Like he wanted a quick escape.

“You don’t have to,” Thomas said weakly, doubling back, like he always did. “You--you don’t have to do any of this, if it’s just to be nice.”

Patton smiled a bit. “Just to be nice? What’s just about that?”

“You don’t--” Thomas swallowed and tried to sort through the emotions in his chest. He still felt seconds from crying. Was that Patton’s influence? Virgil’s? Or should Thomas stop blaming his own failures on everyone else? “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, Pat. You don’t have to--go out of your way to help someone, not if it makes you feel bad.”

“But you aren’t someone,” Patton said. “You’re Thomas. You’re my Thomas, and I’m your good old dad.”

Thomas opened his mouth and closed it again. He didn’t know how to explain that Patton wasn’t obligated to be nice to him. He didn’t know how to say that he wasn’t the priority. He didn’t need to be. He could survive with parts of himself hating him--he was pretty sure a few already did.

“I’m your Morality,” Patton said quietly. “And--I know, I know I’ve messed up, I’ve messed things up so much--but please. This is what I can still do for you. This is what I know isn’t--isn’t hurting you.” Patton paused, and Thomas could hear that he was approaching tears, too. “Please let me help you. Please let me have this.”

Thomas bit off the end of a slice of pizza. Then he shoved the plate towards Patton. Patton looked down, took a slice, and nibbled at it. For a while, there was silence.

“Was it you?” Thomas finally asked, hating himself for it. “Did you get--upset? Is that why I--or was it Virgil?”

Patton sighed. “That’s a complicated question, kiddo.”

Thomas decided not to push it. If Patton wanted to talk, he would.

“We’re all parts of you,” Patton finally said. His voice was shaky, but kind, reminding Thomas of kindergarten teachers talking him through his ABCs. His teachers were lovely to him. But Thomas was only their student, and it was only their job. “We all affect what you do, in different degrees, but we also affect each other. We discuss, we collaborate, we--argue. If you combined all of us into one being, it would be you in a way, but it wouldn’t have the same interactions inside? Does that make sense?” Patton groaned. “Ugh, Logan’s such a better teacher.”

“I think I get it,” Thomas said, looking down at the pizza. “The whole is more than the sum of its parts?”

“Yeah!” Patton nodded. “We all work off each other, even when we don’t realize it. So--anything you go through, it’s not because of one of us. Maybe it started from a single side, but nothing’s isolated. Everything goes through all of us.”

“So...you all got upset?” Thomas asked. “Or was it mainly someone, or--”

“It’s complicated.” Patton swallowed. “Janus didn’t have a hand in it, I don’t think, despite all the ones he has. Roman is very excited about Nico, as is Remus, and I doubt they contributed too much.”

Thomas thought about Roman’s face as he watched Nico leave. Another chance at happiness squandered. “I’m not sure about that.”

Patton sunk into himself a bit. “Virgil--he probably added to the attack when it happened, but he didn’t cause it. He’s too happy about Nico.”

“So…” Thomas let the word hang in the air for a while. “Pat--”

“I’m fine,” Patton said.

Thomas raised an eyebrow.

“I am!” Patton protested. His voice cracked in the middle of the sentence. He didn’t seem to be even trying to hide it. “It--it wasn’t just me, it was--”

“You’re my emotions,” Thomas said. “If it wasn’t Virgil, it--”

“It’s more complicated than that.” True as that might be, Patton’s thin voice said otherwise. “I wouldn’t have done that. Everything’s fine. I know everything’s fine. I wouldn’t have made a fuss over nothing!”

Thomas tried to read between the lines. It was easy. Patton, in the end, was just a piece of Thomas--just a volatile, searing mass of emotions in his chest. “But if someone told you things weren’t fine--”

Patton didn’t say anything.

“Or someone…” Thomas swallowed. “Someone tried to convince you that things were.”

“Like I said,” Patton whispered. “It’s complicated.”

Thomas tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. He could barely make it out in the darkness, save for the small pools of light from the lamps around the room. Was that a crack? Maybe so. He didn’t really know anything about ceilings, so he’d have to ask someone else.

“What do we want to do?” Thomas asked the ceiling, and Patton, and everyone else who had decided this was a mess they didn’t want to touch.

“I don’t know,” Patton said. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” Thomas tried to think of what they should do. “I’m asking you. What should we be doing?”

“That’s a different question,” Patton pointed out. “And you really shouldn’t ask me for advice.”

Thomas covered his eyes with his hand. “I just want to know what to do next, Patton!”

“Why do we have to do anything?” Patton asked bracingly. “Relax. Watch TV. Get some sleep. You had a rough night, kiddo.”

“So did you!” Thomas snapped. “Why is everything always about me?”

A few beats of silence, just enough for Thomas to decide he was a terrible person and should dig a hole to hide in. Patton shifted, and Thomas saw he was running his hands across the hoodie again. Did it make him feel better to wear it? Did it remind him of Logan?

“Janus says it’s okay for stuff to be about you,” Patton said, sounding woefully unconvincing. “He says it’s fine for you to focus on yourself.”

“Janus also said you didn’t exist,” Thomas fired back. “He’s not my go-to person for trustworthy advice.”

The moment the words left his lips, Thomas regretted them.

“Janus is trying,” Patton said, a bit more convincingly. “And you shouldn’t--”

“I know!” Thomas tried to hold back his tears again. “I know I shouldn’t. There’s a million things I shouldn’t do, not least that I shouldn’t be upset right now.”

Patton sucked in a breath. “It’s okay to be upset.”

“Don’t you hate lying?”

“It’s okay,” Patton said, and he sounded so much like a kicked puppy that Thomas somehow managed to feel even worse. “It--it is, Janus says so, and Virgil, and Lo-Logan--”

“And they’re right,” said Thomas wearily. “They’re right.”

“But you said--”

“Don’t listen to me,” Thomas said. “I don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Patton was quiet again. Thomas wondered what it would take to get Patton to leave. He could probably ask and Patton would go. He could just ask. Patton never argued.

Thomas didn’t want Patton to leave. But he didn’t want to pretend that things were alright. And he didn’t want to make Patton feel bad, he didn’t want to feel bad--he knew a million things he didn’t want, a million things he shouldn’t want, and he couldn’t find a single thing that he did.

“We should talk about it,” Thomas said. “About what happened tonight, and--about everything, you know?”

“We should,” Patton agreed. He sounded miserable but resigned. “We can’t put it off.”

“It’s the right thing to do.” Thomas made up for his lack of confidence with a confident wave of his pizza slice. “We need to talk this out. We don’t want it happening again.”

Patton nodded.

“So...what happened?”

Patton immediately stopped nodding.

“You said someone upset you,” Thomas continued. “Well, you didn’t say, but...someone did, right?”

“He didn’t mean to.” Patton’s voice was almost desperate. “He tried to help--and he’s right, there wasn’t any reason to be upset, I just overreacted--”

“Who?” Thomas asked.

Patton worried his lip between his teeth and said nothing.

Thomas looked at the TV, playing the nature channel, because he wanted to calm himself down, because it didn’t make sense to be upset.

“Oh.” Thomas almost winced. “Logan said something, didn’t he?”

Patton’s silence said enough.

“Of course,” Thomas said, trying to sound less bitter than he felt. “Of course he said something.”

“He can’t help it,” Patton said weakly. “He doesn’t get this stuff. Not really.”

“He does more than he lets himself.”

“He doesn’t want to get this stuff.” Patton sighed. “And like I said, he didn’t mean it, and he did try to calm me down--”

Thomas raised his eyebrows. “By saying you shouldn’t even be upset?”

“I think he might have panicked a bit.” Patton giggled sheepishly. “I was crying and he didn’t really expect that.”

“Yeah.” Thomas didn’t even feel surprised. Logan was the smartest dude he knew, but he could be really stupid sometimes. “Have you talked it through with him?”

“No.” Patton poked at the remaining slices of pizza but didn’t pick one up. “I got really upset, and maybe I’d been upset for a while, and this was just what set it off, I guess? And then he got upset but he wouldn’t admit it, and then I felt you start panicking, so I had to go help you.”

Thomas frowned. “You didn’t have to do anything.”

“I wanted to.”

Thomas let out a long breath. “Okay.”

“We’ll talk it through later,” Patton said. “Sometimes the kiddos need time.”

Thomas opened his mouth to snap about the amount of time they spent just waiting for someone to say something. Then he closed it. Then he opened it again, and the words that came out weren’t what he expected. “Is Logan okay?”

Patton blinked. “I--no, I don’t think so. He’s…”

Thomas motioned for Patton to continue.

“He was a bit annoyed when he found out about Nico,” Patton finished, seeming almost apologetic. Like Patton had a responsibility to keep anyone else from being upset. “I don’t think he really liked the idea of a--boyfriend.”

“Oh,” Thomas said.

“He’ll come around,” Patton quickly added. “He just needs time to adjust.”

“You keep saying that.” Thomas curled further into the couch and picked at a pizza crust. “If giving you all more time means this is going to keep happening, I’m not really sold.”

“I’m sorry,” Patton said quietly. “I really didn’t mean to.”

“That’s not what I--” Thomas groaned and tossed the crust onto the plate. “This is a huge mess, and honestly, I can’t see how this could possibly get worse. I feel like crap. A whole stick of crap, inside and out. And if finding out Logan’s deal will make me feel a bit less like crying, I’d rather get that over with.”

Patton watched him closely. The TV lights flashed off his glasses. “That makes sense. But I’m not sure if he wants that, kiddo.”

“Who cares what Logan wants?” Thomas was probably being a bit uncharitable, but he was too tired and emotional to care. “You said it yourself, he’s a part of me, he’s supposed to help. I’m not gonna have my logic griping about Nico all night, okay? I’m already stressed enough.”

“Yeah, well, he’s kind of the reason you’re stressed,” Patton argued, “which I just realized proves your point. Okay. If he wants, he can talk to you.”

“Thank you.” Finally, a side that actually listened to Thomas occasionally. “Logan?”

The house was silent.

“He might be asleep,” Patton said. “He’s very rigid in his sleep schedule.”

“Is that why I don’t have coherent thoughts past ten pm?”

Patton nodded. “Also, sleep deprivation.”

“It’s not that bad, I’m not up that late.” Thomas sighed. “Logan? Logan, are you gonna come out and talk, or will we just sit on the couch all night with no closure?”

“You don’t have to,” Patton added unhelpfully. Thomas glared at him. “What? He doesn’t!”

“Fine, fine, he doesn’t have to,” Thomas complained. “He can feel free to make you and me upset and then leave us hanging, without an explanation of why he doesn’t like Nico--I mean, how could anyone not like Nico?”

“I don’t think it’s about Nico specifically,” Patton said, as if that was supposed to explain things. “And if he’s not going to talk, we can’t push him.”

Thomas groaned and looked for a blanket to hide in. What was the point of having imaginary aspects of his personality, if he couldn’t actually talk to them when he wanted to? What was the problem--there was no logical reason to be upset, but Logan had made Patton upset, it didn’t make any sense--

“Logan?” Thomas called once more, feeling stupid to be yelling at an empty living room. “We could really use you, buddy.”

When there was no answer, Thomas sighed and sank back into the couch. He glanced over at Patton, who was pointedly watching the TV instead of Thomas--the nature channel was now talking about parakeets--and then the shadows seemed to shift at the other end of the couch.

“Um,” Thomas said, unable to see what exactly had happened.

Patton looked where Thomas was looking, made a soft oh noise, and turned on another light.

“What do you want?” Logan asked.

With the addition of the light, Thomas could vaguely make him out, but he was even more shadowy than Patton. His knees were tucked to his chest and a blanket covered him. He looked like he’d fallen asleep on the couch, just gotten shaken awake, and was irritated about it. His hair was mussed in the back.

“We wanted to talk,” Thomas said, when it became clear that Patton was just going to sit awkwardly between them and not say anything.

“About what?” Logan’s voice was quiet and a bit rough. Maybe from sleep, maybe from yelling, maybe from crying. “Be more specific, Thomas.”

“Logan,” Patton said, barely above a whisper.

“What?”

Patton didn’t respond. Thomas was already regretting this. Should they really try to talk things out while tired, grumpy, and piled on the couch watching nature documentaries?

“It wasn’t my fault what happened,” Logan said defensively, as if Thomas had interrogated him. “I simply pointed out logical facts, I don’t control anyone’s emotional reaction--”

Yeah, this was definitely a bad idea, if it was already going this far south. “Hey,” Thomas said before Logan could dig that hole deeper. “Calm down. Nobody’s accusing you of anything.”

“Do you want me to apologize?” Logan asked.

Thomas blinked at the question. “Uh--do you want to?”

Logan made a noncommittal noise.

“Well, if you don’t have anything against it, I think you probably should.” Thomas motioned to Patton, who squeaked at being included. “You made him really upset, and I know you didn’t mean to, but that warrants an apology.”

“Hm.” Logan adjusted his glasses and sighed. “As you say. Patton, I--I said something that I didn’t realize was upsetting. Because it was a fact that you should be considering, but I am still responsible for my actions alone. So...I apologize.”

“Aw, Lo, I forgive you!” Patton seemed to brighten right away. “It’s okay, really! I know you didn’t mean it!”

“What did he say?” Thomas asked. “What’d you say, Logan?”

They both went very quiet.

“C’mon, do I have to try random bits of my internal monologue to see what it was?” Thomas sighed. “Look, whatever it was, I want to see what I can do to help you out. If you’re upset--”

“I’m not upset--”

“I want to help.” Thomas looked across the couch to Logan. “Let me help, okay?”

Logan sighed in annoyance and defeat.

“You don’t like Nico,” Thomas prompted, as Patton hopped up and went to the kitchen. Thomas didn’t know what Patton was supposed to be doing, since he was just opening and closing the fridge, but he decided to let the guy have his escape route. “Why don’t you like Nico?”

“I don’t like anyone,” Logan said. “That’s not my area of expertise.”

“So you don’t like Nico?”

“I don’t have an opinion on him.”

“Clearly you do,” Thomas said, biting back his defense of Nico. He could argue about how amazing and incredible Nico was, or he could get to the bottom of this without panicking again. “I just want to hear what you have to say, Logan.”

Logan blinked. Thomas wondered, briefly and guiltily, when he’d last said that.

“Nico is fine,” Logan said firmly. “He’s--fine.”

“I figured you’d like him,” Thomas said. He didn’t know what he was trying to do--convince Logan? Convince himself? “He’s--he’s a poet. You like poetry, right?”

There was a long pause. “Poetry is an effective way to convey ideas through a rhythmic and minimal structure.”

Thomas didn’t know how to take that. “Nico’s a good poet.”

Logan let out a breath and curled into his blanket. When Thomas looked closely, he thought he saw purple on it. Had it been a gift from Virgil? Why did that make him feel so crappy?

“You like Nico,” Logan said. He somehow managed to phrase it as a question.

“Yeah,” Thomas said.

“You’ve known him for a day.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t like him!” Thomas said. “Love at first sight, Logan. Believe in it.”

Logan stared at him with disappointment. “No.”

“Fine, not love.” Thomas slumped. “But he’s so cute! And sweet! And smart, and funny, and--”

“I know.” Logan rolled his eyes. “Ugh.”

“I get it, you’re heartless, you don’t believe in love.” Thomas sighed. “I--I just thought you could be--happy for me?”

Logan opened his mouth and closed it. Behind them, Patton bustled around, and Thomas longed for him to return. He couldn’t do this on his own. He couldn’t handle this kind of emotional stuff, which made him sound like Logan.

“I am happy for you,” Logan said quietly. “Er--figuratively. I don’t have feelings. Still...I am--pleased. That you have found someone you feel compatible with. Human connection is important for people.”

Thomas smiled a bit, despite himself.

“And,” Logan added very quickly, “it’s doubtful that the relationship will last so it’s really pointless to object to such a quick fling--”

Patton made a wounded noise from the kitchen. Logan immediately stopped talking.

“Pointless?” Thomas repeated.

Logan pointedly began staring at the floor.

Thomas couldn’t keep the hurt from slipping into his voice. “Is that really what you think?”

“I--” Logan swallowed. “I don’t mean any harm by it, but--”

“Just--” Thomas braced himself. “Say what’s on your mind.”

Logan was silent for several moments. Thomas didn’t say anything. He shoved his hurt feelings as far down as he could, because this wasn’t about him right now. Logan was upset.

And--if Logan was upset about Nico, if Logic didn’t approve--

Thomas didn’t really want to think about that.

“It’s an outdated statistic,” Logan said, “that half of all marriages end in divorce.” He spoke slowly, quietly, way too quietly, and Thomas knew that he’d been the one to lessen Logan’s voice. Spare you my company. “However, the odds remain that relationships you pursue are--unlikely to come to fruition. Either you talk until marriage and/or copulation, living the rest of your lives together, or you separate.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s pointless,” Thomas said. “What, is life pointless because we die in the end?”

Logan paused for a second. “I don’t think so. Unless--”

“No, no, no existential crises tonight, I’m already having a breakdown.” Thomas waved his hands. “We’re gonna assume that my life does have value, okay? And we’re gonna assume that even if Nico and I--break up, which is unlikely--”

“Unlikely,” Logan repeated.

“It is unlikely,” Thomas said, deciding to dig his hole deeper. “He’s so cute!”

“You’re in the infatuation phase,” Logan said, almost pityingly. “You can’t possibly predict anything right now--”

“We get along,” Thomas said. “We barely argued! We have similar interests, he loves Paramore and Disney movies and cartoons--he thinks it’s cool that I sing, and he’s supportive of my career, and--”

“You’ve known him for one day.”

“He’s perfect!” Thomas paused. “Not--not perfect, he can’t be perfect, but he’s--really close! He doesn’t have any flaws, not that I know of.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” Logan sighed. “Thomas, I understand that you are filled with emotions about this subject, but as your Logic it’s my duty to rain a bit on your figurative parade. You don’t know this man. You have met him only once, and you know him on nothing more than a superficial level.”

“He’s not a murderer!” Thomas said. “I can tell when someone’s a good person--”

“One, can you?” Logan asked. “Your judgments on morality are often--”

“Flawed,” Patton agreed from the kitchen. Both of them turned to look at him. “I’m not the best at this, kiddo. Nico seems like a good guy, but--” He leaned onto the counter. “I just don’t know.”

Thomas swallowed. He hadn’t expected Patton to take Logan’s side. “Virgil would--”

“Virgil is infatuated, just like you are.” Logan sighed. “I’m not saying Nico is secretly evil. I’m saying you might not be as compatible as you feel you are.”

“We--” Thomas could think of a million answers. But--did he trust himself to know? Did he trust himself to be in the right?

“What if he’s still working through a breakup, and you’re a rebound?” Logan suggested. “What if he doesn’t have a stable career, and has to rely on you? What if you have different financial priorities, or priorities for intimacy? What if you need to change your own career in order to be with him? What if your love languages don’t intersect, or one of you cheats--”

“I wouldn’t cheat!” Thomas protested.

“What if it doesn’t work out?” Logan argued back without missing a beat. “You’re two adults. You have a million small, intricate parts of yourself and your life that you’ll need to fit together. It’s impossible for every aspect of your relationship to be perfect, and it’s unreasonable to expect that a man you met one day ago will be the man of your dreams.”

“We’ll communicate!” Thomas said. “We’ll--I want this, Logan. Are you telling me I can’t try?”

“I’m saying you need to consider every option, before you barrel into a situation you can’t control.” Logan spread his hands. “What if he hurts you? What if you hurt him? What if you aren’t ready for this, and by dragging him into a relationship, you’re only making the situation worse?”

Thomas tried to laugh and ignore the sting in his eyes. “Isn’t it Virgil’s job to overthink?”

Logan leaned back into the couch again. “I’m not trying to overthink. I’m trying to raise logical points.”

“Are you?” Thomas asked. “Dude, like you said, it’s been a day. I can’t control all these things that will happen in the future! I don’t need to worry about whether we’ll move in together, right?”

“Right,” Logan said reluctantly.

“Is...that what you said to Patton?” Thomas murmured. “Did you tell him--”

“That it wouldn’t work out.” Patton’s voice wavered. He was staring out the kitchen window into the dark backyard. “That we needed to--think this through. And, maybe...not go on the date.”

“Not--” Thomas looked between Patton, whose knuckles were white on the counter, to Logan, who looked ashamed. “Not go on the date?”

“If we go on the date, we’re agreeing to try this.” Logan sounded like he regretted each word that came out of his mouth. “If we go on the date, this is confirmed. He’s our boyfriend.”

“Yeah?” Thomas couldn’t help the way anxiety pitched his voice. “That’s the point?”

“Are we ready for that?”

Both Logan and Patton had spoken at once. Thomas felt like he’d been punched.

“You...you don’t think I’m ready,” Thomas said dully. “Do you.”

“I want to.” That was Patton, finally joining them again, sitting next to the TV and pulling his knees to his chest. “I really want to, kiddo. Nico is so nice, and sweet, and good--”

Something sour rose in Thomas’ mouth. “And--”

“And Logan has a point.” Patton rubbed circles into his pajama pants. “I’m not sure if we are ready for this.”

Thomas sighed and curled into his own little ball on the other end of the couch. Look at him, nearly crying with several aspects of his personality, way too late at night, as the TV told him about chameleons. Chameleons could disappear into trees with a change of their colors. Thomas wished he could do the same into the couch. Or on his date with Nico--he could change into exactly who the relationship would need him to be.

That was what relationships were about, right? Compromise?

Maybe people who cried over chameleons really weren’t relationship material.

“Why weren’t you there at the mall?” Thomas asked Patton, after a few minutes of silence. “I’d have figured that you’d want to help, being the heart and all.”

“Roman...seemed like he needed some time,” Patton said. “Without me.”

Thomas nodded.

“And, well, I was there, in a way! The whole time!” Patton shrugged. “You spoke from the heart, right? That was me!”

Thomas paused. “‘I don’t know when I’m going to know what I want again?’”

Patton looked down. “That was me.”

“I know what I want.” Thomas wondered if he could convince himself by saying it. That sounded like lying. But lying was good now, right? Or not? Maybe? Maybe he could summon Janus if he lied enough, and Janus could handle all of this. “I want to give Nico a try.”

“Roman does,” Logan said. “And Virgil does. And I don’t, and I don’t think Janus has an opinion--”

“He’s neutral,” Patton agreed. “And I’m--in the middle.”

“So only half of me wants to give Nico a try,” Thomas said. “Wonderful. It’d be really cool if, one day, my entire self decided to agree on something.”

Logan made an affirmative noise. Patton sighed.

“We didn’t have this much of a debate with my last boyfriend, did we?” Thomas blurted out. “We just went for it. And that turned out--”

“How did it turn out?” Logan asked, with a touch of something in his voice. Maybe it was anger. What was Logan angry about? “Tell me how it turned out.”

Thomas opened his mouth and the words stuck in his throat.

“We broke up,” Patton whispered, pulling at the sleeves of his cardigan. He looked uncomfortable sitting on the floor, but Thomas didn’t know how to invite him back to the sofa without forcing him into it. “We broke up with him, and it hurt.”

Thomas gave Patton a soft look. Patton didn’t seem to notice.

“It hurt, and it sucked,” Patton continued, the words coming faster and faster. “It was no fun. And I have all these good memories of him, of course I do, but--but it’s not the same, if they’re all tainted by the fact that he left. Was that--was that worth it? Good memories and a bad ending?”

The TV hummed. Logan mouthed along to the narration. An elephant was getting separated from its herd. It tried to follow the footprints of its mother, but it was going in the wrong direction, heading farther and farther into the desert.

“We don’t know that it’ll go the same way,” Thomas said weakly. “This is all speculation.”

“Fine, then, I’ll work from real data.” Logan gave Patton a look, but Patton didn’t stop him. “Thomas, you have just learned that you possess “dark sides” of your personality, that you don’t understand yourself and are doubtful of your career path, and that you’re not as much of a “good person” as you think you are. You suffer from anxiety and self-esteem issues, you have a tendency to catastrophize, and you have intrusive thoughts.”

Thomas raised a hand to object. Logan waved his hand back down.

“None of this means you are incapable of a healthy and fulfilling relationship,” Logan continued. “It certainly doesn’t mean you are ‘unlovable.’ However, it’s important to note that you are not in a good mental state right now. A relationship doesn’t fix that. Instead, it can lead to more issues.”

“My mental state is fine,” Thomas said. He didn’t even know why he bothered to say that.

Logan waved a hand at the living room, and the half-eaten pizza on the couch, and Patton sitting next to the TV as a voice droned on about wolf packs.

“It’s a trash bin,” Patton murmured. “And the waste keeps piling and piling up, until it inevitably--spills out into the rest of their life.” He looked up, his eyes sparkling with tears. “If--when that happens--do we want Nico to be a part of our life? Do we want to--”

“Ruin things for him,” Thomas finished. He felt resigned, worn out. Like this was the only way the conversation could have ended. “Because he’s--he’s so nice, and sweet, and--and good. And I’m...not.”

Patton muffled a sob.

“And I thought, maybe, he could turn things around.” Thomas rubbed at his arm. “I thought this could be the moment I got my life back on track. But--what if the train’s still barrelling down on us? Do I want to sacrifice his happiness for mine? Is that fair to him?”

Logan glanced between Thomas and Patton.

“Does he deserve me?” Thomas almost whispered. “Do I deserve him?”

The TV switched to an episode about seahorses. Abruptly, Logan grabbed the remote and turned it off. The sudden silence made Thomas itch. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, and tried to take deep breaths, tried not to panic. Was he panicking? He couldn’t tell. He felt crappy, he felt unmoored, he felt like he was asleep and wide awake and floating somewhere outside his body. He was just another Side of himself, another small voice in his head, not a real person at all. Maybe he should go to bed. He’d see things clearly when he woke up.

Maybe not. Maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he could barely remember how things were supposed to feel. He was wrong a lot. He was always wrong. How did he know what was right? How could he count on a single thing? He didn’t even know what he wanted. He didn’t even know who he was.

He couldn’t keep himself safe. He couldn’t follow his dreams. He couldn’t do the right thing. He couldn’t lie.

And he didn’t know anything.

And he was about to throw himself into a situation where he knew even less.

Was that the right thing to do?

Was that really what he wanted?

“Thomas,” Logan said. “You’re spiraling.”

“You’re the one making me spiral!” Thomas blurted out. When he looked at Logan, his vision was blurry. “We’re all spiraling, so stop pretending you’re above us! Stop giving us your oh-so-logical criticism and getting annoyed when it makes people upset!”

Logan huffed. “Well, why am I here if you don’t want to listen to me?”

“Stop!” Patton yelled. “Stop, both of you! Stop talking! If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all!”

Logan folded his arms. Thomas pressed his eyes shut until he could see sparks behind them. Keep breathing. Keep breathing.

Ask for--help? Ask for help. He wasn’t good at this.

“What…” Thomas’ voice trailed off. He steeled himself and tried again. “What do I do?”

“Right now?” Logan asked. “Or--”

“With--Nico.” Thomas let the words hang in the air. “What do I do now?”

Patton shifted next to the TV. “What do you want to do?”

“I’m asking you guys!” Thomas opened his eyes and looked around frantically. “I’m asking for you guys to help!”

“We’re parts of you.” Logan still blended into the couch. He didn’t move much, Thomas realized, when he didn’t want to. Did he breathe? Did he need to breathe before he talked, or did he just start talking abruptly, without the need to pause? “We don’t have any answers that you don’t have.”

“And--” Patton worried his bottom lip. “Thomas, you’re the best of us. You’re all of us together. You have the final say on anything, and you always will.”

“But I don’t know what to do!” Thomas burst out. “I don’t know what to say! I don’t--I have to drag you into every little dilemma because I don’t know how to figure things out on my own! And it’s stupid, and it’s selfish, and I can’t rely on you to solve all my problems, but--but I know you guys. I know who you are. What you want. I...I don’t know myself, guys, I really don’t.”

Logan made a sudden movement, and Thomas deliriously thought Logan was trying to reach for his hand. As quick as he started, though, Logan froze again, and pulled himself further away.

“I don’t know what I want,” Thomas said, the darkness spinning around him. “I don’t know who I want to be. I don’t know what’s good or what’s bad or what’s not--and I’ve got a cute boy who wants to take me out on a date, and I’m sitting here crying because--because--because I’m scared.”

Patton sucked in a breath.

“I’m scared,” Thomas realized. “I’m scared, aren’t I?”

“Elaborate upon those feelings,” Logan encouraged. “Why are you scared?”

“I--I’m scared--” Thomas stared at his hands. He’d shaken hands with Nico, and he’d wished he didn’t have to let go. “I’m scared of change. That’s always it, you know?” He laughed a bit. “I’m scared of--new possibilities. I know I have to take risks to dream big, but sometimes the risks seem outweigh the rewards. Sometimes it feels easier to avoid luxuries. Sometimes it’s--scary, to confront something I don’t know.”

Logan tugged his blanket tighter around his shoulders.

“I’m excited,” Thomas said. “I should be excited, but I’m terrified, because there are so many chances for me to mess this up. I’ve already got so much on my plate. Do I really want to drag someone else into this? Do I really want to--watch him walk away?”

Patton looked up.

“Yeah, maybe I’m not as selfless as I thought.” Thomas laughed again. It sounded more like a sob. “Maybe I just don’t want to get something and lose it again. Maybe I’m tired of wanting things, if I never get what I want.”

“You’re allowed to want things,” Patton said softly.

“You don’t believe that, do you?”

“No,” Patton admitted. “But I want to believe it. I really, really do.”

“And that’s the first step,” Logan said. “Isn’t it? Patton thinking that Thomas should be more selfless doesn’t erase the fact that he chose to say otherwise. Thoughts don’t equal actions. You can feel doubts about this, but that doesn’t have to affect the way you proceed.”

“Doesn’t it?” Thomas waved a hand at the ceiling. “It feels like I’m just strung along by my thoughts willy-nilly. You guys argue, and I get shoved around the food court and into the trash can.”

“Barring that--unorthodox example, I see your point.” Logan adjusted his glasses. The chance to explain something seemed to cheer him up a bit. “It is hard to separate thoughts from actions. However, it can be done. Think of it this way. When we convene to help you with an issue, we represent your thoughts. We give you different opinions based on our own goals, perspectives, and priorities.”

“And it’s loud,” Thomas said.

“And it’s loud,” Logan agreed. “It’s also a process. You listen to your thoughts, debate with them, and come to a conclusion. Yes, you can be influenced heavily by your thoughts, but the one who controls your actions is you.”

“That’s what makes you special,” Patton said, sounding like he was finally understanding. “We’re imaginary. We can’t affect the real world. But you can.”

“You make your own choices,” Logan said. “That’s what makes you your own person.”

Thomas swallowed. “Motivational speech, huh? What happened to ‘Nico is a terrible idea’?”

Logan winced. “I...still do think that, unfortunately.”

“Logan,” Patton said in a warning tone.

“But! But.” Logan sighed. “What you said about not knowing--about fearing the unknown--a lot of that is me.”

Thomas’ eyes widened.

“I’m the part of you that doesn’t want to take risks. I’m the part of you that wants to--to play it safe, because we only get one life.” Logan waved a hand. “If Virgil is the alarm clock that keeps you on your toes, I’m the person who sets the alarm clock. That means I don’t always understand the risks that you take, or the things that you do, and sometimes that’s...isolating. It feels--it seems like I’m unable to connect with you.”

“You do alright, Logan.” Thomas shook his head. “Better than alright. You keep my head on my shoulders, and I can always count on you. You’re better at this than you think.”

“I hope so,” Logan said.

“I know so.” Patton’s voice was firm. “You’re a great kiddo. You always make me feel better--well, not always, but you’re trying! You’re working on it!”

“Thank you,” Logan said, and sounded like he meant it. Patton smiled back.

“So what are you saying?” Thomas prompted.

“That...this is an area that I do not understand.” Logan twisted his fingers together. “Perhaps I felt--powerless, when you began to put such stock in your emotions. I could not help but focus on the negatives of the situation, in order to figuratively shove logic back into the conversation. But--there are conversations I’m not meant to be a part of.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Thomas said. “You just said you focused on the negatives--and you did raise some good points, ones I’m gonna have to think about! But if you focus on the positives, well, you could still contribute some interesting things. Right?”

Logan’s gaze flickered over to Thomas. Thomas gave him a smile.

“You are thirty-one years old,” Logan said. “The average lifespan of a male in the United States is about seventy-five years.”

“Great, way to give me a mid-life crisis,” Thomas teased.

“I’m attempting to say that you have time.” Logan spread his hands. “You have been away from college for less than ten years. Your personal identity is still changing, and there is still time for it to change.”

Was there?

“Yes,” Logan argued, looking more and more determined. “You don’t know everything this instant. However, nobody else does, either. What would be the point of scientific discovery if everyone knew the answers before they asked the questions? Life is about evolution. You have time to learn more about yourself.”

“But I’ve wasted so much time!” Thomas protested, and he almost felt like Logan, like Thomas was echoing everything Logan had ever told him. “I need to figure some stuff out, I can’t just stumble blindly through my life--”

“Except you haven’t,” Logan said. “What have you done with your life? You graduated college with a degree. You wanted to be a comedian, an internet personality, and you managed that. You wanted to be an actor, and you managed that. You’ve written a musical, you’ve befriended many talented people, you’ve discovered that you’re gay. I would hardly call that ‘stumbling blindly.’ You’re simply doing your best with the resources provided to you.”

Thomas let out a breath. “And your point is?”

“My point is that you don’t have much to lose,” Logan said. “This seems like an immediate dilemma in the moment. However, you don’t need to think through every possible option.” Logan squared his shoulders. “I don’t know what you should do. Neither do you. That’s--okay.”

Thomas found himself beginning to smile.

“That is okay, right?” Logan immediately looked at Patton. “I’m not completely off the mark, am I?”

“You did good,” Patton said.

Logan let out a breath.

“And you’re right.” Patton laughed. “Again! You’re right, again.” His face fell. “I--I don’t know what I want right now. But there’s time to figure that out. It’s not the end of anything, and you have a lot of choices to make. A lot of...chances.”

“A lot of choices,” Thomas echoed. “I guess it was kind of silly to think of it as ‘break up immediately or stay together forever.’ I’ve only known Nico for a day!”

Logan nodded. “In the future, you can make whatever choice works for you.”

“And we’ll be with you, kiddo.” Patton smiled. “Every step of the way.”

Thomas let out a long breath and the darkness settled around him. He was in his living room. He knew this house like the back of his hand. He was fine, he was safe, and it would be morning eventually.

“Thanks,” Thomas said, running a hand through his hair. “Thanks, guys. Seriously.”

“You’re welcome,” Logan said. “It’s our job.”

“And our pleasure,” Patton corrected. “We’re happy to help.”

“I am not happy.” Logan paused and reluctantly inclined his head. “Still, Patton is correct. I--find it enjoyable when I can assist.”

“You both did great.” Thomas laughed. “I’m sorry for keeping you up with all this, I really shouldn’t have overthought it as much as I did.”

“We caused the overthinking,” Logan pointed out.

“We did,” Patton admitted. He shifted a bit and looked up, wiping his eyes. “I--I’m scared too, Thomas. I don’t want to...end up heartbroken again.”

“Yeah,” Thomas said.

“But I think it might be worth it.” Patton balled his hands. “Those memories might hurt to look back on now, but they were nice while they happened, and they made us feel happy! The bad parts don’t necessarily erase the good parts. Nico is a good thing. A relationship with Nico, however it ends up, could be a good thing. You’re allowed--” Patton swallowed. “You’re allowed to want to be happy.”

Thomas fought back tears. “And--if it doesn’t work out?”

“We’ll live,” Patton said simply. “We did before, and we will again.”

“Okay.” Thomas’ voice came out like a croak, and he covered his face. “Okay, fine, just--just give me a second. Turns out I really needed to hear that.”

A warm hand hesitantly touched his shoulder. Thomas peeked between his hands to see Logan awkwardly patting his shoulder. Thomas gave him a watery smile.

“We can do this,” Patton said, sounding close to crying himself. “We’re allowed to want. It--it was never that we didn’t know, it was that we didn’t let ourselves, wasn’t it?”

“I want so much,” Thomas forced out. “I want to go on a date with Nico, I want my Sides to get along, I want to be famous and I want to be good and I want to know what I’m doing and I want--”

“It’s okay,” Logan said, barely above a whisper. “Breathe.”

Thomas breathed. In and out. In and out. He knew he could breathe. He had lungs and a heart and blood pumping through his veins and tears on his eyelashes. He knew that. He didn’t know who he was, but he knew pieces of himself, he knew his logic and his feelings and his dreams. He knew where he was and where he’d been. And he could figure things out from there.

“It’s okay,” Logan said again. “You will be okay.”

He would be okay.

No matter what, they would find a way to be okay.

Thomas wiped his eyes, uncurled his legs, and motioned for Patton to join them on the couch. Patton stood up and slipped between Logan and Thomas, making Logan’s arm fall around Patton’s shoulders. Logan started, but he didn’t remove it, and he let Patton lean into his side.

“Gosh, this was a mess, huh?” Patton giggled and took off his glasses to wipe his eyes again. “It’s already so late in the evening and I’m still such a mess of feelings.”

“We could all use a decompression activity,” Logan said. “May I…”

Thomas smiled. “Sure, buddy, go ahead and watch the nature documentaries.”

“Yes!” Logan looked triumphant. He turned on the TV and found one about birds. “Does this work?”

“Sure,” Thomas said. He paused. “So...what do we do?”

“Tonight?” Logan asked. “Watch TV, relax, and go to sleep.”

“And...tomorrow?”

“That’s tomorrow,” Patton said, punctuated by a yawn. “We’re still in today.”

Thomas smiled a bit. “Focus on tonight, huh?”

“Focus on the choices you can make right now.” Logan watched the TV begin to pan over a rainforest. “Sometimes you’re allowed to ignore your thoughts for a while.”

“Sometimes I’m allowed not to know things yet.” Thomas thought about it. “Thanks, Logan. Patton. I know this--can’t be easy for you guys.”

“It’s not,” Patton admitted. “But we’re working to be good people, right?”

“You’re working to be better,” Thomas corrected. “And you’re both doing amazing.”

Patton smiled. Logan hummed and pulled his blanket across Patton’s legs.

“Tonight we relax,” Thomas said, and smiled. “Yeah. I can work with that. I know we’ll figure stuff out soon.”

“You do?” Patton asked sleepily.

“I’ve got you guys in my corner, how could I not?”

Logan flushed before adjusting his glasses. “Likewise, we have you. As we are parts of you, you’re in your own corner.”

“Confusing,” Thomas remarked. “Let me guess--”

“It’s complicated,” Logan and Patton said.

“Thought so.”

But maybe he didn’t need to understand it. Maybe he didn’t need to know everything. He knew that Logan and Patton, and Roman, and Virgil--and Janus--were on his side. He knew they cared about him. He knew they’d help him be okay.

Maybe that could be all he needed. Maybe he just needed to trust in every part of himself.

Thomas looked down at his chest. Patton had slung an arm across it and was already half-asleep. Logan was intently watching the nature documentary. Somewhere in his head, Virgil and Roman were probably celebrating, or sleeping, if they were smart. Somewhere else, maybe Janus was smiling.

Thomas trusted every piece of himself that he knew.

Maybe he could learn to trust himself, too.

After all, he had enough time to make a million choices.

“Goodnight,” Thomas said as Patton began to snore. Logan murmured a response. “I--I love you guys, okay?”

“Love you too, kiddo,” Patton mumbled.

“I--” Logan breathed out. “I--hold you in the highest regard.”

“Love you too, nerd.” Thomas smiled. “You’re the best.”

He knew that he loved them. He loved every part of himself. And maybe, one day, he could get around to loving himself, too.

He knew that he wanted to. He knew that he wanted. He knew that he had the best possible backup, and a very cute possible boyfriend, and that he could get what he wanted, if he tried.

It was okay. It was fine. Things would figure themselves out.

Right now, Thomas was exactly where he needed to be.

General taglist (ask to be included or removed!):

@the17thmeatball

@most-likely-fandom

@csi-baker-street-babes

@caffeinated-cryptid

@thefivecalls

@ollyollyoxinfree

@the-gay-is-back

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@stoicpanther

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@drarrymalecsolangelo

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@multi-fandoms-posts

Taglist from @the-taglist-repository:

@callboxkat @nonasficcollection @supernovainthenightsky @evoodo123 @idont-freaking-know @hekking-happy-nonsense @cottonwoolsocks @aceawkwardunicorn @somehow-i-got-an-account @enby-ralsei @robinwritesshitposts @a-fandom-trashdump @kieraelieson @rainbowbowtie @10moonymhrivertam @katelynn-a-fan @dwbh888 @royal-stormcloud @awkwardjester @ollyollyoxinfree @intruxiety @brain-deadx0 @the-grounded-raven @just-your-typical-trans-guy @grouptalekindnesssoul @the-hoely-bleach @anvil527up @fanficloverinthesun

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #platonic logicality #sanders sides fanfiction #back at it again with the lowercase parentheses titles #also i am rly sorry that i haven't written much #finals are coming up and yeah it's just been a wild ride #and i'm sorry this angsty mess is the first thing i post in weeks djhsgfshsjs #we're all friends here we know what to expect #tw anxiety #tw panic attack #averywrites

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

Text

Catharsis (A Satan x GN MC Fanfic)

As it would turn out, moving is hell, and tensions are high in my house for the moment... I can't work up enough of a playful mood to look at my other WIPs right now, so here's another episode of "I'm Moody and Need to Work Through Some Stuff... w/ Jazzy." Funny enough, I wrote this while listening to Kartharsis (yes with a K) by TK from Ling tosite sigure (yes the Unravel guy).

Warning: Angst, Verbal Abuse

Catharsis: the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions

Satan could never claim to have the healthiest anger management strategies… To some extent, it's not exactly his fault. He's a being born from rage itself and for most of his life, it's tinted his every thought… Even after cooling down some, his temper remained exceedingly short. And worst of all, his wrath could burn looong… If given a chance, he could stay mad for days unless given some kind of release…

His brothers usually knew to steer clear if getting Satan that pissed. The only surefire way they had of calming him down was to let him destroy something and that wasn't doing all that great for the House's walls… But brothers do what brothers do. There will probably always be a day where they're bickering or fighting with each other… which means that Satan could never be off the hook entirely...

The person who actually got his nerves this time was Belphie. The co-members of the Formerly Anti-Lucifer League don't butt heads very often, but it's bound to happen occasionally… Particularly when Lucifer was concerned. Belphie had promised to get Satan a book he needed for a curse the two of them had been scheming for months. It was supposed to be so intricate and difficult to undo that it'd have the eldest struggling for weeks… Unfortunately, Belphegor had decided to sleep in on the day he was supposed to bring it... This made Satan miss a crucial time window to put the finishing touch on their curse. They'd have to wait another century for the planets to align again…

To say that Satan was irritated would only be the start… truthfully, he was furious. Days of effort and planning went to waste because his lazy brother couldn't be bothered to get out of bed! Perhaps even more unfortunate, though, was that Belphie wasn't one to take someone else's anger lying down… He may be lazy, but he had wit far beyond his rank and venom to match it in equal measure... All fights between these two were like verbal pit matches, a vicious dance of jabs and insults until one of them finally throws a punch or someone else steps in to break it up...

Today's unlucky contestant was Beel, who hollered at them loud enough to shake the walls... Satan knew that Belphie was more than happy to leave the situation as it was… The lazy bastard could always hide in the attic and sleep away his problems… but it wasn't that easy for Satan. His anger doesn't just "go away" like everyone else’s... Sure, he may appear to simmer down.. but it lingers. It festers. And he hates it…

He hates being mad… There's nothing pleasant about anger. Breaking people under your feet in righteous fury? Well, there's some fun in that. But just being angry with nothing to do about it...? Whoever asks for that…?

Which is why he was trying to indulge a suggestion the MC gave him some time back to take his mind off it… Stress cleaning. Apparently, it wasn't unheard of for humans to use cleaning to vent emotional frustration through physical activity... The concept didn't sound unreasonable to him at the time. So when he passed by the kitchen and saw the dishes from Beel's last meal stacked up high, he decided to roll up his sleeves and give it a try.

… He should have known that a little bit of cleaning wouldn't have been enough for him, though. With each dish that he scrubbed clean, his sponge's pressure against the porcelain increased ever so slightly… Building and building until he was very nearly cracking the plates beneath his fingers…

No… the rage wasn't leaving him. He kept replaying the fight again and again in his mind… always producing new comebacks to words that were never said and spiraling farther down into his own resentment… Hadn't the human said this would work? Why wasn't it helping…?? If anything, he just felt more worked up than before! Why was he listening to them anyway? What would they know about helping him, Wrath made flash, control his anger?? What kind of idiot was he for even considering-!

"Satan…? Are you okay…?" The tentative, yet familiar, sound of said human's voice called to him from the kitchen entrance. He didn't bother turning back to face them and just kept his eyes trained on the filth in front of him...

"No." There wasn't any point in lying, was there? They could see him practically slamming the plates down on the drying rack by this point…

"Ah…" He heard them shift their weight as an awkward beat passed. They no doubt knew it wasn't a good idea to approach Satan when he was angry… but that meddlesome streak of theirs must have been begging for them to intervene in some way. Typical human… sticking their nose in places it didn't belong…

"Well… Beel told me about what happened… You and Belphegor, right…?" He heard their footsteps finally enter the room and stop somewhere close to the kitchen island. Trying to keep some space between him and them, perhaps? Oddly reasonable coming from such a reckless creature… But it didn't stop his shoulders from tensing up at the meer sound of Belphie's name.

"Don't bring him up." His words snapped out like the crack of a whip, menacing and sharp. Though he couldn't see them, he was sure the MC flinched, and he felt a perverse sort of satisfaction in that thought… There was a pause before the MC continued, clearly considering their next words carefully...

"Satan… I just wanted to tell you that it's my fault Belphie slept in… I kept him up last night, and you know how he gets when he can't sleep." Their words were slow and careful like they were trying not to startle a wild animal. He still didn't turn back as he waited for them to continue.

"... Okay. I just thought I'd let you know, I guess… It wasn't really his fault…" There it was. His simmering temper had been wanting, no begging, for him to find something, anything, to let it go on... And this was just what he had been looking for… an opening.

"Oh. So you're taking his side then?" Pausing, he stopped abusing the glass in his hand and let an eerie calm build from his lack of motion... He knew just what he needed to do to scare them. He's done it to other people hundreds of times...

"W-what? No-I never said that…!" It didn't matter that they were right. He wasn't in the mood to be reasonable right now.

"You may as well have. You're already down here coming to his defense, aren't you? Did he put you up to it? Holding that precious 'cuddle time' you two like so much hostage, I bet..." He threw them a sidelong glare from over his shoulder and felt yet another wave of satisfaction from seeing their confused face. It was like he just swept a rug out from under them, and they were failing to catch their balance.

"That's not what I…!" They stopped themselves mid-sentence as it seemed to dawn on them just what they had gotten themselves into… Satan wasn't looking for a reasonable conversation right now. He was looking for a punching bag... But they weren't looking to be one.

"You know what… No. I don't appreciate your tone." He could see their eyes narrow as they found their resolve once more, stronger this time. He hissed softly at the loss of his easy mark...

"What does it matter? You're the one who started this in the first place. You just said as much a bit ago. Don't you know to leave me alone when I'm pissed off anyway, or are you really just this stupid?" That one must have hurt because he saw them flinch this time…

"I'm only here because I knew you were upset-"

He cut them off sharply. "And you didn't think I needed the space?" Again, they flinched at the growing volume of his voice, but they didn't appear to back down either. They only responded in a tone much softer than his own, patient but strained from invisible wounds...

"It passed my mind… But I just wanted to help…"

Help? Oh… Right. He must have forgotten who he was speaking to… Help was all the MC ever did. Even when they had no idea how or when their ideas were so crazy, they'd put Mammon to shame… He always knew they meant well… Did his anger really just blind him to why he was even washing dishes in the first place…?

The two stared at each other for a few moments while Satan battled over what to say next... Their earnest answer had re-awoken a bit of sense in him, yet he could tell his temper still wasn't satisfied… An overwhelming part of him, one he loathed to acknowledge, was calling for more vitriol… It just wanted to fight and be petty for satisfaction's sake… to have an enemy to stomp over, no matter who it was…

But just looking into the MC's eyes was keeping those hateful words down his throat… He could see that they were hurt and worse, he was well aware that he caused it… Sure, he may not have raised his fist, but he had still done plenty of damage with his voice alone… They didn't deserve his rage, and even now, he hated to have released it on them in the first place…

His internal struggle must have reached a peak without his knowledge because he hadn't noticed his grip was tightening around the glass in his hand. At least, not until it suddenly shattered all over him. The MC jumped back with a yelp at the unexpected explosion, and even he shouted a swear or two as he felt the shards lodge into his palm.

"Shit!" It didn't take a doctor to know that having glass embedded in your skin isn't ideal, and he could claim to at least have a little first aid know-how. As he used that knowledge to inspect his hand, he almost completely forgot that the MC was in the room until they made a noise.

"Um… Satan?" They were hesitant to speak, which he didn't blame them for. He did have a habit of breaking things for intimation value, but he guessed that they noticed he was as shocked as they were for once. "Need this?" In their hands was the first aid box the family kept in the kitchen. Though it was really only intended to bandage up the occasional knifed finger... it would do for the moment.

"Yes, that would help… thank you…" Though his appreciation was genuine, his words were stilted and hollow… He couldn't even meet their eyes considering how this whole exchange started… He felt terrible before, but now it was more than enough to finally overpower the wrath within him… He hates knowing when he's been a total asshole too…

He gestured the MC to put the box on the counter then began treating his wounds. They helped him as he worked nimbly, but he could feel an awkward tension between them… Not undue, but still uncomfortable. He knew he had to remedy it quickly...

"MC… I'm sorry… That was wrong of me…" They glanced away from his hand for only a moment before responding with a strained smile.

"It's alright…"

"No. It wasn't…" He paused only to grunt as he removed the largest glass shard from his palm. "...I was looking to let off some steam and targeted you unfairly… I didn't mean what I said; I was only searching for a reason to be mad… None of this was your fault… I hope you can forgive me…"

The MC shook their head as they searched the box for bandages. "No, I have some fault here too… I really should've given you space to cool off before talking to you… I just saw that you were doing the dishes and thought you were simmered down already…" He stopped what he was doing a moment and glanced back at the sink's drying rack, now half full of still soapy and partially cracked dishes.

"... Well, I don't know how vigorously you wash those, but I don't think I'm ever going to find that to be a relaxing activity." Their soft chuckle relieved a bit of the weight in the air, much to his solace.

"Fair enough… Though I'm not sure what I was thinking telling you to try cleaning in the first place. I should have just asked you to break every vacuum in the House instead." They both snickered over the image of him ripping the handles off of their hoovers by accident, and, slowly, Satan could finally feel the anger in his chest fading away... Of course, it'd be the MC to do it… It always was. Why hadn't he found them to start with…?

"And just so you know, I'm not taking sides with Belphie or anything. I'm sure he turned off his alarm or something." He snorted slightly as he finished the bandaging. Were they really still on that?

"I know, don't worry about it. It doesn't matter what side you're on to me anyway." He took his newly bandaged hand back just in time to see their puzzled expression.

"What? Why not…?" He chuckled some as he let his undamaged hand come to rest on top of their head, stroking back any bangs in an affectionate pet of sorts. He then caught the back of their head to tilt it up towards his, meeting their wide eyes with a devilish grin.

"Because you'll always be mine, kitten…"

#this story will live and die on how well i can write apologies #no pressure #i hope i didn't make satan an asshole #obey me #Obey me shall we date #obey me satan #obey me fanfic #shall-we-date-obey-me

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