#maybe this is the semester i go back and pass that goddamn class | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grandwretch · 1 year

Text

only i must wander

[chapter one] [on AO3]

In the months before Steve's graduation, he and Dustin had something of a routine going on. Every Friday afternoon, Steve would pick Dustin up from Hawkins Middle School and they would drive out to the McDonald's one exit over. They even ordered the same thing every week: A Big Mac for Steve, nuggets for Dustin, two Cokes, and a supersized fry. After driving slowly back to Hawkins they would eat in the arcade parking lot, and when they were done they would either spend the rest of the afternoon trying to kill each other over air hockey or renting shitty science fiction movies. Whichever Dustin wanted, really.

It wasn't anything like Steve's life had been just six months ago, but he loved every second of it. Even when Dustin was getting mud all over his upholstery and asking too many questions.

On that particular Friday night, Steve had been late picking Dustin up because Mrs. O'Donnell had stopped him in the hallway on the way out, for the third time this month. Some bullshit about him not "applying" himself, or whatever, and how she didn't "feel it was right" that Steve had passed her class when he'd obviously learned so little. Which was bullshit, Steve thought, because she taught fucking English, which he already spoke, and he'd been pulling solid C's in her class all semester.

So most of the conversation had been about that, really, with Steve complaining about how every teacher he'd ever had hated him, and Dustin scolding him just as fiercely as any teacher ever had. A typical Friday night.

Tonight, however, Dustin paused, mid-sentence.

"Are you ever going to tell me why your eyes do that when you're mad?"

Steve paused, a french fry halfway to his mouth. He looked over at Dustin, who was staring at him from the passenger seat. He was almost used to it, a kid spending every day in the seat next to him instead of Nancy or Tommy, but big, curious eyes still threw him off from time to time. Especially when they came paired with off the wall questions like this.

"Why do my eyes do what, Dustin?"

"You know," Dustin said, gesturing to Steve's face with his burger. "When you get mad they go all black and stuff. Kinda like El's do when she uses her powers, but you don't--" Steve had never seen Eleven actually fight, but he had seen her do small tricks now and again for the boys. Her eyes were more like pits, her entire face wrinkling around the deep depths. Steve felt his stomach churn just thinking about the same in his own face.

The reflection in the rearview mirror was the same as it had always been. Hazel eyes, smooth skin marred only by a few moles. Steve made himself breathe.

"I think I would know," Steve said, keeping his voice carefully steady. He was trying to be less bitchy around the kids, but sometimes they made it so goddamn hard. "--if my face looked like that. It probably-- It probably hurts, right?"

"Not really," Dustin said, with enough conviction that it tore Steve's gaze away from his own reflection. "Anyway, it's not your face. It's just your eyes. Look, I don't know what kind of Wesen you are, man, but you can talk to me about it, whatever it is. You know I'm one, too, right?"

"A-- a what?" If this was another one of those weird fantasy novel things, he was going to finally strangle the little shit, he really was.

"A Wesen," Dustin repeated, looking as confused as Steve felt. "Like-- like me and El."

'Like me and El,' Steve thought, turning the sentence around in his head. He was not equipped for this, Jesus. It had to be hard, growing up fighting monsters and stuff, and having one of your best friends be a weird ass superhero, but Steve hadn't expected Dustin to deal with it by playing pretend. He'd always been the most grounded in reality of the kids. It was why Steve could put up with him for more than a couple hours.

"Buddy, maybe you should talk to your mom about this stuff," Steve said, slowly. "Or like Mrs. Byers or somebody."

Dustin rolled his eyes, which Steve thought was pretty rich coming from someone sitting in his car and talking about made up words. "Oh my god, Steve. Look."

And then-- And then.

Steve didn't know how to explain it. One moment, he was looking at Dustin, the kid he'd become absurdly attached to over the past semester, and then something shifted. In the next breath, Dustin was... different. Light brown hair had sprouted all over his face, smooth and straight and so unlike the curly mop still on top of his head. His nose had changed, the bridge gone flatter and wider, the end still hairless but now a deep dark brown, like a dog's. Underneath his nose, his lip was cleft, opened wide so Steve could see even more clearly the gap where Dustin's teeth should be. On either side of the cleft, whiskers sprouted, white and long.

His eyes were the same, though. Dustin's eyes, staring out of a beaver's face.

Two years ago, Steve would have screamed. He would have thrown things. He would have been out of the car in two seconds flat. His flight reflex had been recently shattered, though, and now all he could do was stare and try not to choose the other option-- fight.

This was Dustin, Steve told every dark instinct swelling up in the back of his mind. This was his best friend. Not something that crawled out of the Upside Down, not something stalking through the night. His kid.

Dustin blinked at him, with a silly smile on his inhuman face. "See?"

Steve's hands gripped the steering wheel, fingernails digging into the leather. "Dustin, what the fuck is happening right now?"

The smile faded on Dustin's face slowly. "Do you not-- Steve, come on. You've seen El do this like a thousand times."

"She's El!" Steve said, his voice going higher with stress. He could feel his muscles start to shake with the effort of keeping himself in place. "She's got, like, powers and shit! She was born in a lab and experimented on! You're-- You're just Dustin!"

"Okay, ouch," Dustin said. A pout began to form on his face. "Okay, yeah, El is special, but there are people who like her who are, like, normal Wesen you know?"

"You keep saying that word."

"You know, like--" Dustin gestured between them with-- Jesus fucking Christ, with a fucking paw. "You and me."

Steve had to get out of the car. His heart was going so fast he could feel it in his ear drums, in the roof of his mouth. It took too long for his shaking hands to open the door, and by the time his feet hit the dirt, he could feel adrenaline churning his stomach. Behind him, he could hear Dustin calling his name, the passenger door opening, but it only spurred on Steve's desire to get away.

He stumbled a few feet, his legs too weak to carry him far, until hands grabbed at his jacket. Steve whirled around, ready to fight-- Your kid! A smaller part of his brain screamed at him. --but Dustin was... Human again.

"What the fuck, Dustin," Steve couldn't stop repeating. "What the fuck."

"Steve," Dustin said, deadly serious. "Are you seriously telling me you've never met another Wesen before?"

"Stop saying that."

"What?"

"Stop saying that I'm one of you! I'm not. I don't-- I'm normal. Stop saying that."

Dustin's eyes were too understanding. Steve fucking hated it when he did shit like this, when he could just look at Steve and got him, because Steve barely understood why he did what he did, sometimes. How did this fucking kid always seem to know him? And if he could, why didn't anyone else ever manage?

"Steve," Dustin said again, pitched low and calm like he was trying to soothe a rabid dog. Like Steve was a monster, crawling the junkyard, looking for blood. "Look at your eyes right now."

There was a compulsion in Steve's blood that would not let him look away any longer. He had to look, had to face his own reflection already knowing it would ruin him. Steve raised his eyes to the car window, and its distorted mirror image of his face.

For a moment, Steve almost had hope. His face was not marked or pitted like El's, nor was it covered in fur like Dustin's. It was his nose, his skin, his moles, his mouth. The scars that littered his face in the last two years were faint, but still visible. Steve could still feel one of them in the corner of his upper lip. It was almost easy to miss, almost easy to chalk it all up to a bad joke. But then Steve met his own gaze, and all illusion was shattered.

It was like a trick of the light; They were the same size and shape as Steve's own, lined with the same delicate eyelashes, but there was no mistaking the change. His eyes were black. Not the deep void that stared out of El's other face, no. At first they seemed dead and glassy, like a shark's, but the longer he stared, the more Steve became aware of something moving inside them, like smoke behind glass.

Steve didn't feel his knees grow weak or his legs buckle underneath him. He barely felt it when he landed on the ground. One moment he was standing, and the next he was on the asphalt, staring up at Dustin. Dustin, who looked down at him with such a mixture of confusion and sorrow that Steve felt, bizarrely, like his change was more inhuman than all the fur and torn flesh in the world.

"What the fuck," Steve said, his voice croaking in his throat. "What's happening to me? Dustin, what the fuck is happening to me?"

"I don't know," Dustin said, and-- Embarassingly, Steve let out a thin noise of panic, because he was absolutely fucked if Dustin was admitting he didn't know something. "I mean, I have a theory, but..." Dustin cut himself off and looked around the parking lot. They were alone here, had chosen it specifically so they could laugh and play Dustin's tapes as loud as they wanted to, but he still scanned the area with more suspicion than Steve had seen out of him in months. It made Steve's instincts kick in, had him scrambling to his feet to put himself in between whatever danger Dustin suspected of the world around them. "We really shouldn't do this here."

"Is this..." Steve swallowed, his hands shaking. "Is this Upside Down shit? Is it because of the tunnels? Did I-- Did I breathe too many spores in or something?"

Dustin considered the idea for only half a moment before dismissing it with a shake of his head. "No, if this was a symptom, Will would have displayed the same ones while he was in the hospital last year. No, this has to be... Come on, Steve, let's go home. I promise, I'll tell you everything I know. Just not where people can hear us."

"This is fucking insane," Steve muttered to himself, but he climbed back in the car, hands shaking.

The ride to Steve's house was tense, neither of them speaking, although Steve could sense Dustin throwing him concerned looks the entire way. He usually hated when the kid did that, mostly because he didn't need a thirteen year old's concern, thank you so much, Dustin, but today it rankled Steve's nerves worse than ever. Everything in his body wanted to fight something, but the only enemy he could identify was inside his own head. Dustin's gaze on him only made it worse, made Steve so jumpy he imagined, several times, jumping from the moving car.

Whatever was wrong with him, it didn't stop at his eyes.

Steve stormed down his driveway and threw open his front door. Dustin scurried in after him as if afraid to be left behind, and Steve had a brief pang of guilt, but then he caught sight of himself in the long mirror that hung along the foyer and-- He turned away, swallowing bile. "Alright, kitchen," he said. "I need a fucking beer."

They sat on either side of his mother's breakfast nook, the only place Steve ever ate alone. Steve had a beer, one of the last few he'd been nursing since his party days ran out. Dustin had a root beer in front of him, untouched. They stared at each other, unsure.

It was time to be a fucking adult, Steve decided, and unstuck his tongue from the roof of his dry mouth.

"What was that word you kept using?" he asked.

"Wesen," Dustin answered, his mouth a grim line. "That's what I am. That's what El is. Or was? It's not really clear."

"But it's what she was supposed to be," Steve said, and when Dustin nodded, he sucked in a breath. "And what I am."

Dustin squirmed on his stool. "I think so."

"So... So what the fuck is it?" Steve shook his head, confused by the very words coming out of his mouth. "Am I going to start growing fur? Or-- Or get all wrinkly or whatever, like El when she uses her powers?"

"No, it's not--" Dustin paused, his face creased with the uncomfortable feeling of having no idea how to explain something. "I only know what my mom has told me, which isn't, like, a lot. But we're not like humans."

"Yeah," Steve scoffed. "I got that."

"What I mean is, we're part of the same community but we're not all the same. We probably have some stuff in common, but I don't know how much. I can't exactly go to the library to figure this stuff out." Dustin's voice held the long-suffering frustration of a child who'd been asking the same questions for a very long time, with no adult willing to answer. Steve was usually all for it, being the first to encourage the kids to say fuck adults and do it themselves, but he was still lost in a sea of information that made no fucking sense to him.

"Can we just-- Explain it to me like I'm really stupid."

"I want you to know that I'm not making a joke right now because I can tell you're in a really vulnerable place."

"Thank you so much, Dustin."

"You remember Star Wars, right?" Dustin asked.

Steve's head tilted. "The movie you made me watch over Christmas break? With the laser swords? Yeah, I remember them."

"Alright, so, everyone in that movie is an alien, right? Some of them look like humans, but they're not from Earth. And some of them don't look like humans at all. They're all from separate planets, some of them entirely separate species, but they're all aliens."

Steve blinked at Dustin for a long moment before his face collapsed into disbelief. "We are not fucking aliens."

Dustin's glare was legendary. "No, you idiot. But we're not human, either."

"Then what am I?" Steve raised a hand to stop the answer he could already see coming. "And don't say Wes… That word. I can't just be not human. People aren't… whatever they're not. I have to be something."

"I don't know," Dustin said. "I don't know a lot of the names. My mom is kinda…"

Steve nodded. Mrs. Henderson's brand of flighty overprotectiveness was well known to the entire group, and probably most of Hawkins by now. Dustin was allowed to spend whatever time he wanted with Steve, even staying over at his house when Steve's parents were out of town, but Steve had also been horrified to find that Mrs. Henderson had woefully unprepared the kid for things like puberty or high school. Dustin said his mom didn't like to talk about things that upset her, and Steve guessed that other Wesen was one of those subjects, much like Dustin growing up or rock music.

Steve felt himself begin to calm. Whatever happened, it was bound to be easier than the time he had to explain to Dustin what a pube was.

"Do you think she might know?"

"Probably, but we can't ask her." Dustin was beginning to look actually distressed. "There's no way she would let us hang out again."

Steve's stomach sank. "Really?"

"When she found out the founder of the D&D club at Hawkins High was a Blutbad, she made me promise I would never join," Dustin said. Brightening, he continued, "Oh, wait, duh! Your parents have to know; They must be Wesen, too! Just ask them."

Bradley Harrington's eyes had never gone black, Steve was pretty sure, though they had definitely been angry enough a time or two. He couldn't imagine his mother, Sophia, as anything less than human, either. They were both so… normal, although sometimes so damn keen on being completely on-trend that Steve suffocated with it. Half of the trouble Steve had gotten himself into over the years was more about calling too much attention to himself than legitimately bad behavior. Steve was sure they would be just as annoyed by having a genius like Dustin as a son as they were having an idiot like him.

He tried to imagine what his father would say if Steve called just to tell them his eyes had changed color, and winced.

"If they wanted me to know, they would have told me," Steve said, grimly.

"Well, fuck," Dustin said, which Steve thought pretty much summed it up, yeah.

After a moment of stewing in his own misery, Steve remembered to ask, "So what are you, then?"

Dustin's chest puffed up with pride, and a ripple of fur sped across his face. "I'm an Eisbiber!"

"That means absolutely nothing to me, you gotta know that."

"We're like beaver people, basically. Mom says it's impolite to compare people to animals but–" Dustin shrugged. "I call it like I see it. I'm a beaver. Lots of Wesen have animal attributes."

"What, like a werewolf or something?" Steve asked, incredulous.

"Those are Blutbads," Dustin confirmed. His voice dropped to a whisper. "But Mom says if you call a Blutbad a werewolf to their face, they'll eat you."

Suddenly, Steve could only think of demodogs, their faces peeled open and saliva shining in the moonlight. All those fucking teeth.

He nodded slowly. "I'll… keep that in mind." Shifting in his chair, Steve thought about the tight, inner group of the Party, and the way he hadn't really been a part of it before last fall. Even within their small group, there had always been an air of mystery about El and her origins. Even Nancy hadn't had many ideas, when Steve had gotten the courage to approach her about everything post-breakup, but if Dustin had known the whole time... "So how many people know about this stuff, then? Are Lucas and Mike like you? Is that why everything happened with Will that first time?"

"I don't think Wesen are that common," Dustin said, "though that might just be a Hawkins thing? Like I said, it's hard to do research. Lucas and Mike don't know. I'm not sure how much Will knows, honestly."

"But they know about El," Steve said, frowning.

Dustin paused, looking guilty. "I know. That's the problem. Mike treats El like a superhero, and I'm not... Eisbibers aren't like Hexenbiests, especially superpowered ones made in labs. We mostly make things. I don't want him to think I'm... I mean. You know. It's bad enough, already, with the human shit."

"Look, Mike and I have never gotten along, but I don't think he would do that. Whatever Wheeler is, a bully isn't one of them." Steve knew what a bully looked like. Scrawny, angry twelve years olds didn't make the list.

"Alright, so you tell them you're a--" Dustin paused. "A whatever, then."

"I will," Steve said, "the second we can figure out what the fuck it is I'm supposed to be. What about Hop? I mean, how much would El have told him?"

"Nothing about you." Dustin shrugged. "El was raised in a lab by humans, presumably. She didn't even know what she was. My mom had to tell Hop everything, and then made him promise me and El would never be allowed to hang out alone."

Steve thought of angry little El, eyes painted to match her second face, who wanted to be with her friends so badly that she ran away to find her past. "I bet that Kali girl could have helped us."

"Good luck finding her. I'm pretty sure she was half Musai," Dustin said. Steve wished he'd just stop saying shit like Steve was supposed to understand it. Being stupid about human stuff may be embarrassing, but he refused to be bullied for not knowing the names of every single race of a species he'd just realized he was a part of.

"This is insane," Steve said. He slumped in his chair, and looked around his kitchen. It looked just like he'd left it this morning, the kind of half-cluttered that houses inevitably got when they were lived in by people who desperately didn't want to be there. Filled up with the necessities of life but abandoned just as quickly. Clean dishes haphazardly placed around the room and junk mail months old still piled on the counter. His bread box was empty, half a loaf of bread still sitting in its wrapper on top.

It should be different, he decided. Not just his kitchen, but his entire world. That's how things had been when he'd seen the demogorgon in the Byers' house-- He'd realized things about the world in that moment that had changed everything. It was fast and violent, and the next morning he had looked at himself in the mirror and not recognized the kid looking back at him. It was the same for everything he'd ever loved, even the people, and while Steve had spent a lot of time looking back, he'd always known there was no resetting time before that moment.

He was starting to think he'd preferred the violent realization to this slow roll of information. Now Steve was left with the knowledge that the world had already been just as it was, and Steve had just been unable to see it. Right under his nose. His parents, his best friend, his fucking kitchen... the same as it had always been. He'd just been looking at it the wrong way.

That was a much harder pill to swallow. The demogorgon hadn't left Steve with much choice-- swallow or choke. Get it over with. Fight until you win. But how the fuck was Steve supposed to fight this? He felt helpless in a way he didn't often let himself be, disconnected from his body and vulnerable in the haze of his own thoughts. Like his soul was hanging raw and open in the space around him, and this part of him that was a living, breathing thing was left with no one home.

"We're gonna figure it out," Dustin said. Steve blinked slowly and pulled his gaze back to the kid who'd just blown his worldview to smithereens. Dustin's face was pulled tight with determination, leftover baby fat bunching adorably in his cheeks. He looked like an angry chipmunk, Steve thought hysterically, and then corrected himself: An angry beaver.

God, what the fuck had happened to his life?

"I'm serious, Steve," Dustin said, when it became clear that Steve wasn't going to react outside of a foggy gaze. "We're gonna figure this out, okay? Me and you."

"Yeah?" Steve said, the edge of a laugh in his voice. "We're gonna, what, hunt down what I am, what my parents are, completely on our own? You literally just said this shit was impossible to research."

"We don't need that shit," Dustin said, scoffing. "When have we ever needed evidence? Or, like, adults?"

Steve really wanted to protest that; As the older party and a practical adult himself, it was probably his job to insist on both evidence and adults for pretty much everything Dustin wanted to do, whether or not it involved fictional creatures that Steve may or may not be. The problem was, though, Dustin wasn't exactly... wrong. Hop and Joyce were the only adults that had ever been any help to either of them, and that was on a good day. Half the time they kinda just got in the way. Steve was pretty sure that if cops and doctors just listened to Nancy as much as they listened to the adults, they could have figured out most of this shit back in junior year.

"Fuck, okay," Steve said, pushing his hands through his hair. "Sure. Goddamn it."

"You are literally never allowed to tell me off for cussing again," Dustin said. He sounded unimpressed.

"Sorry, is my breakdown upsetting you?" Steve shot back, but he felt his muscles unclench enough that it no longer felt painful to breathe. Dustin's snark was honestly calming, though Steve would rather die than ever admit it. Still, it was a good reminder that no matter how scared Steve was, things hadn't gotten so bad that Dustin had lost his particular brand of sarcastic zen. As much as the little shit loved to dig into the most dangerous curiosities he could find, he wasn't exactly the sort to smile calmly into the face of death, so... So whatever Steve was, he could deal with it.

Probably.

"I'm going to go home," Dustin said, jumping out of his seat. Ignoring Steve's small sound of protest, he continued, "and you're going to take a shower and then a nap. Tomorrow, once you've calmed down, we can do some tests."

"Tests?" Steve repeated, his nose wrinkling. El had never really divulged what had gone on in the lab with him, but he knew just enough for his imagination to take over. He knew Dustin wasn't exactly the government experiment type, but he still hated the concept being applied to him. "See, this is exactly the kind of shit I didn't want to happen."

"Tough shit," Dustin said, stomping his way out of the kitchen. Rolling his eyes, Steve followed.

"Do you want a ride?" he asked, because he always did and, well... Whatever Dustin thought, Steve didn't exactly want to be alone right now. Also, he just found out there was a whole new kind of monster in this town, and every protective instinct in his body wasn't exactly jazzed about Dustin riding all the way home on his bike. "What about the B-- the Bad werewolves or whatever, you were talking about? You said one lived in Hawkins--"

"Blutbad," Dustin corrected as he wedged his feet back into the shoes he'd previously abandoned next to Steve's front door. "And I think I'll be okay. I've existed in the same town as them for thirteen years and I haven't gotten eaten even once."

"Not for lack of trying," Steve muttered under his breath, and then helped Dustin put his backpack on. Dustin let him, not complaining about being able to do it himself for once, and not for the first time Steve felt a small rush of affection for the kid. He knew not a lot of people understood why he and Dustin spent so much time together. Sure, sometimes the other kids were involved, Max and Lucas especially, but usually it was just Steve and Dustin. The other kids didn't really get it, and no matter what Dustin said, Steve wasn't sure they saw him as more than Dustin's big brother. As for Steve's old friends, well, Nancy had long stopped being impressed by Steve's ability to keep a kid alive for more than forty five minutes; She probably just thought it was pathetic now. Tommy sure gave him enough shit for it when Steve bothered to give him the time of day. God knew what Jonathan thought, outside of the stern nods they traded when Steve picked Will up for an arcade trip.

They just didn't understand the warmth in Steve's chest when Dustin let him help with something stupid and small. It didn't matter if Dustin could do it on his own. That had never been the point. Helping the kid put on backpacks and jackets, fixing his hair, making sure his grilled cheeses were evenly toasted on both sides so the texture didn't turn his stomach-- No matter how much Steve bitched, he loved doing every little thing no one had ever done for him.

"Listen, Steve," Dustin said, standing nervously in his doorway. "I want you to know that it doesn't matter."

Steve dragged himself out of his sentimental reverie. "What?"

Dustin squirmed, face pinched with thought. "What kind of Wesen you are, it doesn't matter. I'm gonna help you because you want to know, and that's-- That's cool. You've got a right to know, just like El. But knowing didn't change El, and it's not going to change you. You'll still be Steve, and Steve's pretty great."

Blinking, Steve couldn't respond for a moment. Finally, he managed to say, "Are you trying to pep talk me right now, Henderson?"

Embarrassment flooded Dustin's face, creasing his brown and throwing blush across his cheeks. "Okay, fuck you, see you in the morning, douchebag."

Laughing, Steve followed Dustin out the door and onto his front steps. "Hey, Dustin?" he called as he watched Dustin clamber onto his bicycle. Dustin looked up, eyes squinted in suspicion. "Thanks, man," Steve said, a blush rising in his own face.

Dustin grinned. "Welcome to the club, asshole," he said, and then sped out of the Harringtons' driveway as fast as his little Gumby legs could carry him. God, Steve loved that kid.

Dustin kept his promise. He was there the next morning, before Steve's neighbors had even left for church, with a list of potential 'tests' to try out. None of them were the weird science experiments that Steve had been dreading. Most of them, in fact, were just Steve trying to flex muscles he shouldn't have.

"Acid spit?" Steve read, incredulous.

"That one's a far reach," Dustin admitted. Shifting through his backpack, Dustin pulled out item after item, and Steve lowered the list to look doubtfully at the large slingshot that now sat on his kitchen table. "But I didn't want to leave anything out." It wasn't a long list, Steve noted, and most of it was ridiculous. No matter what Dustin said, he was pretty sure he'd have noticed something like kisses that drugged people or the ability to lead rats around.

Probably.

"Fine," Steve said, giving up. "But we're not doing this shit outside where the neighbors can see. The last thing I need is another rumor going around about King Steve."

"It's your house," Dustin said, shrugging, and threw the water balloon launcher over his shoulder.

To Steve's complete and utter lack of surprise, he did not have acid spit or any other set of superpowers. At Dustin's insistence, Steve ran across his backyard a few times, picked up some heavy things, caught a few launched tennis balls--

"I'm not playing anymore fetch," Steve decided, dropping the last of the tennis balls at Dustin's feet.

Dustin glared up at him with all the tiny rage of a scientist disrespected in his field. At least, Steve imagined. He hadn't known too many non-evil scientists in his life. "I'm trying to determine if you have super strength or improved reflexes."

"Oh, good," Steve said, and then flopped into his usual lawn chair. "I don't."

"You picked up a grill," Dustin protested, but even he didn't sound convinced.

"I was on three different sports teams for all four years of high school," Steve said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. Dustin was only trying to help, and Steve knew he should be grateful. But once the panic had faded, all Steve was left with was this... irritation. Wasn't it enough that everything he'd ever known about his life had turned out to be a lie? One more lie on top of everything else turned out to be just one more pea under the princess' mattresses, and Steve was sick to death of vegetables in his bedding. "And I've been prepping to murder interdimensional monsters for the last two of 'em. Of fucking course I run fast and pick up heavy shit. It's, like, literally all I'm good at."

"I give up," Dustin said, throwing his arms up. Paper floated down around them, escaping from Dustin's clipboard. "You're the most useless Wesen in the world! If I hadn't seen you woge myself, I'd think you were an Eisbiber!"

"Jesus Christ, kid," Steve said, "Cool it on the beaver hate. Your mom's pretty cool."

Dustin's glare was intense enough that even Steve knew it was time to shut up. They sat in silence for a moment, Steve placidly watching as Dustin squinted into the reflective light of the pool. Steve had no idea what Dustin was thinking, and didn't have enough context to guess. At this point, Steve was ready to chalk the whole thing up to a trick of the light and move on with his life. Eventually, though, Dustin shook himself out of it and sat on the other end of the lounger, close enough their knees bumped together.

"Woge for me," Dustin demanded. Steve had learned enough that wogeing meant the change, the other 'face' that El and Dustin possessed. Dustin had talked about it at length that morning, talking about the difference reasons for it and how it might point to the truth of Steve's identity. None of the tests had worked, though, and Steve's eyes had stayed human.

"I don't think it's the same thing for me, man," Steve said. When he saw Dustin about to protest, he rushed to continue. The last thing he needed was another Henderson rant about the scientific method or some other bullshit Steve wouldn't bother to remember. "I tried for hours to make it happen last night, just so I could make sure that it had actually happened. Besides, it's only my eyes-- And your thing is literally everything but your eyes. Those stay human."

"But El's don't."

"El also looks like a literal diseased corpse when she changes," Steve said, tired. "Like we've said a million times, it's stupid to compare either of us to the girl literally created and then raised in a lab."

Even Dustin couldn't argue with that logic, but it didn't phase him for long. "Fine, then we just need to replicate the last time you woged, so I can take notes of all the characteristics I may have missed the last time," he said, slipping back into the overly professional voice that Steve was almost certain he'd stolen from one of his doctors.

Resisting the urge to groan, Steve frowned. "So, what, we have to go get in the car?"

"Maybe, if it doesn't work here, but I don't think the place is really the important variable here," Dustin said, and Steve supposed it was a sign of how seriously Dustin was taking this if he didn't even pause to ruthlessly bully Steve for getting it wrong. "How did you feel the last time your eyes changed? What caused the feelings?"

"Dustin, you were literally there," Steve sighed, but Dustin was already speaking over him before he could finish the sentence.

"Yeah, but I'm not you! I don't know what instincts were happening in that big head of yours!"

"I don't know, I was... upset?" Steve asked, and when Dustin rolled his eyes, he kicked at the kid's legs. "Hey! You're the one sounding like a fucking Hollywood therapist! What am I supposed to say? I just watched my best friend turn into a fucking beaver!"

Dustin's eyes narrowed. "You think my woge triggered yours?"

"I don't... know?" Steve leaned back in the chair, brow creasing as he tried to remember what had been going through his head before the panic of not recognizing his own reflection. The primal fear hung over every second of the memory now, but he knew that wasn't true. There had been adrenaline, yes, but Steve hadn't been scared of Dustin. His instincts had been more violent, almost angry. That had been what scared him, in the beginning. It hadn't been Dustin that sent him scrambling out of the car, but his own impulses. "When you changed, it made me... I thought I had to fight you."

Dustin hummed under his breath. "Once, when we were in the city, Mom and I ran into this lizard guy in the hospital. He turned out to be really nice, but when Mom first saw him, she woged out of fear and he woged back-- I think it was probably some kind of predator-prey instinct. Maybe it's like that?"

Steve felt a pit grow in his stomach. He didn't like the sound of that. "So, I'm like... A hunter?"

"Unless you think you're the only natural prey of the North American beaver, yeah," Dustin said.

Great, Steve thought, what a way to have every fucking bad thing anyone had ever thought about him confirmed in one fell swoop. Crossing his arms across his chest, he tried not to settle into a sulk. Pouting in front of the kid you were supposed to be a good influence for was embarrassing as hell, and probably even worse than being an instinct-driven murder machine. "Does that at least narrow it down?"

Dustin made an unsure noise in the back of his throat, kicking his feet back and forth as he thought. "I mean, kinda. It means you're definitely not anything my mother will let me within five feet of, but we pretty much already knew that. The problem is that, as far as I know, most of the Wesen world is pretty dangerous. Even some of the prey animals are killers."

"According to your mom," Steve said. He loved Claudia Henderson, he really did, but she thought her neighbor's Yorkie was two seconds from killing them all on a good day.

"According to my mom," Dustin agreed. "Look, let's just woge right now, and it'll confirm it."

"You don't think that triggering my 'predator instincts' on purpose will be a bad idea?" Steve asked, shrinking in on himself. If he hurt Dustin over some stupid science experiment, he'd have to go ahead and drown himself in the pool. And he genuinely didn't think Dustin could take the extra trauma on top of everything else.

"You'll be ready for it this time," Dustin said, and twisted around so they were face to face.

'Ready' turned out to be mostly erroneous. There was no countdown, no time to prepare-- Their eyes met and then Dustin was changing. The fur, the nose, the cleft lip. It was all as Steve remembered it, all exactly as he'd played over and over again in his mind. Steve braced himself, waiting for the same rush of adrenaline, for the same muscle-clenching urge to fight.

It never came.

One moment passed, then another. Steve forced himself to breathe. "I'm not feeling any rodent murdering tendencies," he admitted, although he couldn't quite convince his shoulders to relax.

"Well," Dustin said, his tiny beaver face peering into Steve's. "Your eyes definitely changed. They're... Huh."

"What?" Steve wanted to squirm under Dustin's gaze, uncomfortable with the very intense eye contact going on right now. Even though Dustin was looking at him, in his eyes, Steve didn't feel like he was being included in the interaction. If anything, it felt more like Dustin was watching something through him, and after all the multidimensional shit they'd been through, the last thing Steve wanted to think about was his eyes being a portal. "Come on, man, you're freaking me out."

"They're reflective," Dustin said, his voice faraway with thought.

"Yeah?" Steve said, confused. "So are everybody's."

"No, they're like mirrors. I can see myself completely. Every detail." Dustin's voice still sounded lost, and Steve swallowed down the sudden lump in his throat.

"That's weird," he said, eventually, when Dustin had proven that he had forgotten to even blink. "Um, can this part be over now? I'm not great at eye contact on a good day."

After a moment, Dustin shook himself, looking just as confused as Steve felt. "Yeah, sorry, man," he said, frowning down at his notepad. "I don't know what happened. Maybe your species is good at hypnosis? Some kind of snake, maybe?"

"Do I look like a fucking snake to you, Dustin?" Steve said, gesturing to his smooth skin and fluffy hair.

"No," Dustin admitted, "but we don't really have any proof your species has an animal counterpart, either. El doesn't. And before you say it--" Steve closed his mouth. "-- I'm not comparing you to El. I'm saying that whatever a Hexenbiest is supposed to be, I don't think it was originally like me. Maybe they're not the only ones."

Honestly, Steve hated the idea of his powers being anything like El's. To put it mildly, El's powers were fucking terrifying. Not the girl herself; It had been impossible to be afraid of El after Steve had gotten to know the sweet little girl that hid behind all that trauma. He adored her, really. But her powers? Steve genuinely didn't know how El slept at night, because if it were him with all that responsibility, he'd probably just have a heart attack. The more power someone had, the more opportunities they had to fuck up. Steve was proof of that. Having as much power as El was his worst nightmare. And if Dustin was right, that Steve might be something like her...

"We should tell Hop about this," Steve decided. Immediately, Dustin groaned.

"Come on, Steve! Hopper isn't going to let us dig into this and you know it!"

"Yeah, and maybe we shouldn't," Steve said. "I don't know anything about this shit, and my parents aren't talking. But if you're right, and I have the ability to hurt someone, then Hop needs to know about it."

Dustin's face softened. "You-- It's not like that, Steve. You wouldn't--"

"You don't know that." Steve was on his feet again, pacing the concrete that surrounded his pool. "We don't know anything, and you've seen what happens when El gets angry. And what happened to Will last year?"

"That wasn't Wesen related," Dustin tried to reason, but Steve was already shaking his head.

"That we know of," Steve said, "and I think we've proven that neither of us actually know a goddamn thing about this."

"... Fine. But I want it on the record that I think this is stupid, and you would never hurt anybody, Wesen or not."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Your complaint has been recorded, and will be going directly into the trash. Do you have your walkie on you?"

They went inside to collect Dustin's abandoned bag, his walkie still packed safely inside. They had given Hopper a Party-approved walkie the year before, when he decided that in case of emergency, relying on phones wasn't enough. Steve was pretty sure he'd given up on the Upside Down being a one-time thing, and making sure the kids weren't being eaten by monsters in the woods made everyone sleep better at night. They had a separate channel, though, for adult-included emergencies, because Hopper had threatened to arrest Mike for calling in a Code Orange over being out of toilet paper.

Steve hesitated over the dial, for a moment, and wondered if discovering you weren't human was a Code Yellow or Orange.

"It's not going to call itself," Dustin said, and Steve--

His eyes shut, all usual irritation at Dustin's annoyances drowned out by fear. Because he was so fucking afraid. Afraid of himself, yeah, but also a million other things. Like, how was he supposed to look Hopper in the eyes and admit what he was? Sure, Hop was okay with El, but El was a kid. His kid. Steve wasn't sure if he'd have taken the beaver thing half as well from anyone but Dustin. Wasn't sure he would now, even, and he was fucking one of them. Would Hop think he was a monster?

Even worse, would Hop believe him when Steve said he was something to be feared? Steve wasn't sure if he hoped Hop would, or if he dreaded it.

"Can you wait outside?" Steve asked, his voice shaking. He could already see Dustin gearing up for an epic bitch fit, so he quickly continued, "Just for a second. I swear, you can come with me. I can't do this shit without you, man."

The admission made Dustin quiet. With shock or with mollification, Steve didn't know, but whatever it inspired in Dustin was enough to have him nodding and walking out the door.

Steve turned the walkie to Hop's channel, and held the button down. "Chief, are you there?"

There was a moment of quiet, and Steve thought- hoped? -that Hopper didn't hear him, that he might be busy or at work or maybe he'd thrown the stupid thing in a drawer somewhere, but eventually the speaker crackled to life. The chief's voice poured out, "That you, Harrington?"

"Yeah," Steve said, the vowels coming out reedy in the tightness of his throat. "Yeah, it's me. Um... I got a... A Code Orange? Or maybe a Yellow."

"I can never remember that stupid fucking system," Hopper said, and on any other day, Steve would have laughed. "You okay, kid?"

Kid, Steve thought, his brain buzzing, when was the last time he'd been a kid?

"No," Steve said, answering the question truthfully for the first time in years. "No, I'm not."

There was a moment of static, and then, "You need me there?"

Steve wanted to say yes. Steve wanted to sit on the floor and wait for an adult to come by and take care of it. Steve wanted a dad who would come home and make everything go away. But that wasn't the truth, and it would scare Dustin, so Steve took a deep breath and acted like a fucking grown up for once. "I was thinking that Dustin and I could come by the cabin tonight, actually. There's something there I think we might need."

Hopper made a small, considering noise. "This about all that nastiness this fall?"

"Dustin doesn't think so," Steve said, glad to be able to report some good news for once. "It's more… personal. But, you know, you have a lot in the cabin that might have answers, so…"

There was a moment of dead air, and Steve wondered if Hop was weighing his affection for El against his need to protect Steve. Hopper was obviously more of a protective dad than Steve's dad had ever been, putting even Claudia Henderson to shame with his hovering abilities, and Steve… didn't begrudge El that. Really, he didn't. But there was a lump in his throat when he thought about Hopper leaving him to deal with this on his own. And he would, if it meant keeping his daughter out of trouble. Steve knew that without a moment's thought.

He wondered what it said about him that the knowledge made his chest ache. Nothing good, probably.

"Come on down," he said eventually, and something in Steve's chest unclenched. "You'll both stay for dinner."

"Sounds good," Steve said, although they both knew it hadn't been a question. "We should be there in about ten minutes."

"Yeah, I know where you live, boy," Hopper said with a snort, and then the line went quiet.

Despite himself, Steve smiled down at the walkie as he threw it haphazardly back into Dustin's bag. No matter what changed, at least Hop would always be the same. He was the same as a father figure as he was when he had been a stranger breaking up all Steve's best parties. It was a small comfort, to see someone strong enough to not let all the craziness of their lives change him– A comfort that Steve let wash over him in the silence of his kitchen, breathing deep.

Okay, game face on, he told himself. Keeping how badly this affected him from Dustin was hard enough, and he knew it would be near impossible in the face of El's observant gaze. He wasn't entirely sure how this would affect her, but keeping as calm as possible would stop her from freaking out, and that was always good for Steve's health.

He loved the kid but, Jesus, she was scary sometimes.

"So what's the game plan?" Dustin asked as they both climbed into the Beemer. "I mean, what are we going to tell him?"

"Stop trying to game the Chief," Steve said, with the air of an older troublemaker who had long since learned better. "It literally never works."

"So, what, we just go in there and tell the truth?" Dustin said. He sounded uncomfortable at the idea, which Steve kind of understood. He'd been the same at Dustin's age, always lying and keeping problems to himself for genuinely no good reason. He was still working hard to break the habit, obviously. He didn't know why he did it, though, and Dustin probably wasn't even aware of it yet– It was just a knee-jerk reaction, something Steve had learned after years of proof that telling the truth rarely got you anything but grounded.

"If we want Hop to help, he's gotta know what's going on," Steve said, with more confidence than he felt. Dustin argued for the entire drive, less because he disagreed, Steve was pretty sure, and more because it was easier than dwelling on the mystery. Sometimes your brain needed a break from the panic spiral of the unknown, and bugging the shit out of your best friend was the perfect solution, apparently.

Steve sighed in relief when he rounded the last corner and the cabin slid into view.

Hidden away in the depths of the same woods that abutted Steve's yard, Hopper's cabin was small and plain, unnoticeable from the main roads that cut through the town mere feet away. Steve wasn't sure how many people knew about the place, but those in the know rarely came by except by appointment. Even Joyce knew better than to roll up to Hopper's unannounced. If anything, such a bold move would be a sign that something had gone truly, terribly wrong.

There was always a bit of nerves just before Steve knocked on the cabin door. Every time, something in him was convinced he would be turned away. The confirmation beforehand didn't help the anxiety, and Steve was never sure why– Maybe it was the feeling of constantly intruding on El and Hopper's new family, or maybe it was just the fact that they both could kick Steve's ass, but the initial frisson of nerves never faded even after Steve had grown comfortable in their presence.

Hopper opened the door before he could knock, leaving Steve's hand hanging awkwardly in the air.

"This doesn't look like an emergency," Hopper said, voice gruff– But his gaze swept carefully over the both of them.

Steve opened his mouth to explain, or at least offer some kind of vague reassurance that would get them in the door, but Dustin beat him to the punch, as usual. "It's not really a human-type emergency."

Hopper's eyes snapped to Steve, surprise and suspicion mixing together in equal measure. "You said this wasn't about the lab."

Steve swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry under Hopper's gaze.

"Most Wesen aren't man-made," Dustin said, suddenly huffy with offense. Steve would probably be offended, too, if he'd had a lifetime to adjust to not being human. Seemed kind of rude to start assuming people were created in a lab. "Look, can we come in? If I have to re-explain my entire society to you, I at least want to do it sitting down."

To Steve's surprise, Hopper smiled down at Dustin and took a step back, shrugging. It wasn't exactly a grin, but it was there plain as day, small and fond. "Sure, come on in. El," Hopper said, raising his voice to shout across the cabin to his daughter. "Company's here!"

El's door swung open on cue, all the proof Steve needed that she'd known they were coming the whole time. The girl all but sprinted into the main room, nearly tackling Dustin in a hug. They looked almost like siblings, all brown curls and wide smiles, and El's delight at seeing Dustin was effusive. Despite the stress of the last two days, Steve found himself sharing Hopper's smile.

The kids chattered to each other, voices soft with delight, and Hopper made eye contact over their heads. "You hanging in there, Harrington?" It was the kindest way to say that he'd heard the panic in Steve's voice earlier, and embarrassment flooded through his veins. Steve appreciated the concern. Really, he did. But suddenly the shame of his own need to be cared for was overwhelming, and Steve had to fight the urge to back out of the house with a mumbled excuse.

He couldn't figure this out on his own. This wasn't going away.

Luckily, Hopper's voice had reminded El of their second guest, and she saved Steve from having to reply by pulling away from Dustin. "Steve!" she cooed, her voice still pure childhood.

She went in for a hug, her face tilting up to beam at him, and– As their eyes met, El's face shifted. The rapidly familiar ripple of a woge, leaving behind the twisted, pitted skin of her second face.

The black of her eyes burned like coals, and the intensity of them sung in Steve's veins as adrenaline shot through his blood. His hand, which had raised to pull El into a hug, shot towards Dustin, instead–

Every cell in his body thrummed with instinct. He needed to get the kid out of here, away from the danger. He needed to put himself in between, needed to fight.

Before his hand could even land on Dustin's back, his feet were off the floor.

Steve hit the cabin wall, the entire room rattling with the weight of El's power. He could hear Hopper and Dustin's voices, surprised and panicked, but their voices were lost in the ringing in his ears. He struggled in vain against El's invisible hold, rage mounting with every futile second.

The part of him that still held on to rationality, the part that made him Steve, struggled to calm his pounding heart. He knew El wouldn't hurt Dustin, knew El wasn't the threat his body said she was, but it took everything he had just to bite down on the feral scream building in his throat.

The strings of El's power were cut just as quickly as they were woven, and Steve slumped to the floor. There were hands on him, but he recognized them as Dustin's, and he let them hold him down.

"I'm… I'm sorry," El said, her voice small. Steve wanted to cry at the fear there, even as the furious parts of him settled in smugness.

He didn't look at her. He couldn't. Instead, Steve looked up at Hopper, pleading.

"Something's wrong with me," Steve said, voice shaking. "You have to help."

Hopper's face was grim, his mouth a flat line as he looked down at them. "You feel the Mindflayer on him?" he asked El, his eyes never leaving Steve.

El was quick to shake her head. "No, it's not like Will. It was… I think it was me."

"I already told you, it's not an Upside-Down thing! He's just a Wesen," Dustin said. His hands were shaking where he had them fisted in Steve's t-shirt. Steve leaned into them, feeling them steady against his ribs.

"Like us?" Some of the unease faded from El, excitement in her eyes.

"Not exactly," Steve said, still looking up at Hopper with guilty eyes.

Dustin turned to El, his eyes sparkling with the excitement of having someone who would entertain his nonsense for once. "You noticed his eyes, right? That's the only aspect of his woge. I've never seen anything like it, have you?"

El shook her head. "I've had woges forced before, but I–"

"Forced?" Hopper repeated, and Steve slumped further into himself.

"Steve didn't, though," El said, and her eyes drifted back to Steve. He didn't like the way her eyes went unfocused when he looked back, the same way Dustin had drifted into a haze earlier that day. "I was… afraid."

"A prey response," Steve said, glumly repeating what Dustin had theorized before.

"Not of you," El said gently, to Steve's surprise. "When your eyes went black, I could see myself in them. Not my body, but my…" Her face twisted in thought. "My self."

"I did, too," Dustin said, frowning. "And Steve said he had the same initial adrenaline response, but I didn't–"

"I didn't like what I saw," El said, her words clipped in the harsh, stilted way it had been when she was younger.

All four of them sat in the silence that followed for a moment. Steve wondered if they were also trying to ignore what Steve was: The things El had done that Dustin hadn't, the things she'd had no choice but to become. He wasn't sure what El had seen staring back at her, but Steve couldn't imagine having to actually face the worst of himself. And how did his pathetic little life even compare to the things El had survived?

Eventually, Hopper broke the silence. "I didn't see anything." The skepticism in his voice was palpable, but there was relief there, too.

"Humans wouldn't," Steve said, a terrible realization creeping up his spine. "We were wrong, Dustin. It's not a predator thing. I think it's…" He huffed, trying to think of some kind of comparison. "It's like those butterflies that make themselves look like owls. They're trying to fend other Wesen off. Whatever I am, it's afraid of being hunted."

"Alright, alright. This is–" Hopper rubbed a hand over his face, looking five years older than he had when Steve and Dustin had knocked on his door. "Start from the beginning. What exactly are we dealing with here?"

Dustin and Steve shared a look.

'You're the smart one,' Steve said with a shrug.

'You're the one with the freaky eyes,' Dustin said with an arched brow.

"Alright, so… It started after I picked Dustin up from school yesterday," Steve began. He ran them both through everything, even the parts that made him cringe. The first intense need to fight or escape in the face of Dustin's woge, the changes in his own reflection he couldn't replicate.

El listened politely, sending Steve small smiles when she noticed him looking her way. Her obvious happiness when he or Dustin included her in their discussion of Wesen almost made Steve feel guilty for hating this. He knew isolation, both real and metaphorical, was the hardest part of El's slow integration into society, and having more Wesen around was probably a dream come true, but– Steve wasn't that guy. He didn't know a damn thing about being Wesen. He was just… human with a condition.

Besides, whatever levity El brought to the situation, Hopper was apparently determined to stomp out. His face was that of a man facing down a firing squad, one who was fucking pissed about it, besides. When Dustin mentioned Steve's parents, he practically went apoplectic, turning away as his face went redder and redder.

Whatever the fuck that was about.

"So we decided we should come to you," Steve said, gesturing, "because you would know what to do about… me."

Hopper's face didn't get any less angry. El, who had apparently just noticed her father's countenance, looked between them with wide eyes.

"What to do about you," Hopper repeated, voice flat.

"Yeah," Steve said, nodding. "Like you did with Will."

El and Dustin both flinched, but Hopper was made of stone. Nothing but long, uncomfortable eye contact from him. "I don't think there's anything to be done here, kid," Hopper said.

Steve couldn't suppress the full-body reaction to that, scrambling to his feet. Adrenaline was hitting him again, sending his already exhausted heart into paroxysms, but now it was true fear. Not of some imagined enemy, but of himself. "I can't just be around people like this, Hop," he said through gritted teeth.

"You're around people now."

"That's my fucking point! I have like four fucking friends in the entire world, and two of them turned out to be the exact kind of people that I'm a danger to. The only reason El isn't hurt is because she can kick my ass," Steve pushed a hand through his hair, feeling it stick up at the ends from leftover hairspray. He didn't care. He wanted to pull it out by the fucking roots. "What if I go to the grocery store and meet a Wesen in the fucking dairy aisle, Hop? What about the next time I see Mrs. Henderson?"

"You didn't want to hurt El," Hopper said, his voice calm but his face still marred by anger. "You were reaching for Dustin. You wanted to protect him."

"You can't know that for sure. I can't– I can't control myself when I'm like that," Steve said. "It took literally everything I had not to hurt my own fucking kid."

"Me?" Dustin squeaked.

"You can. I know what someone out of control looks like, Harrington. You aren't it."

"Why can't you just fucking help me?" Steve said, his voice going reedy with desperation.

Hopper sneered. "I'm not going to help you punish yourself for something you haven't even done yet."

"I think maybe we should go outside," El said, and Dustin nodded eagerly. They both scurried outside like they were being chased.

"Stay where I can see you!" Hopper bellowed after them. Steve blinked back tears, shaking in the silence the kids left behind. Hopper took a deep breath. "Look, kid…"

"I don't get why you won't help," Steve said, his eyes falling to the floor. "It's not punishment when it's El. Why can't you–"

"El could control herself," Hopper said. "She just didn't know that she needed to. She's still learning how to be a person, Steve. She's just a kid."

"Right, right. Sorry," Steve rubbed at his nose, willing his tears away. "I'm sorry I bothered you, I–"

"That's not…" Hopper sighed, grabbing one of Steve's shoulders in one big hand. "What I'm saying is that you're already a good kid. I don't have to worry about you getting yourself or somebody else hurt."

"I get myself and other people hurt literally all the time."

Hopper rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. You're not going to hurt the kids, and I don't believe you're going to start attacking randoms in the street. You're still you."

"But…" Steve swallowed around a dry throat. He didn't know how to make Hopper understand, didn't know how to make him care. He'd never been very good at that. Half of his life, Steve had been begging people to care. None of it had ever worked. "Alright. I get it."

Hopper nodded, looking relieved. "Just go home, Harrington. Lay low for a little while. Get used to the new instincts." Steve still wanted to protest, but he agreed. "Good. Let's get outside, before those kids start some trouble."

Steve followed Hopper out the cabin door, head held low. Dustin and El were waiting for them on the porch, sitting on the edge with their knees pulled up to his chest. They weren't talking, just watching the door with their bright, expectant faces.

"It'll be fine," Hopper told them, voice calmer than it had been inside. The kids deserved that, Steve told himself. "Steve's got this."

"Yup," Steve said, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. "It's all under control."

El darted forward, throwing her arms around Steve's chest and clinging. Steve tried not to meet anyone's eyes over her head and hugged her back just as hard.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he whispered, heart twinging in his chest. Not much scared El, and now he was on the list. What did that say about him?

Squeezing even harder, El shook her head, rubbing her face against his chest. "Don't be sorry. It's not your fault," she said. It sounded like she was mimicking someone, and Steve wondered if Hopper had done that for her. If she'd been held close and told everything would be okay.

Swallowing around his jealousy, Steve held on until El stepped back and smiled up at him. "You'll have to give me some tips on how to do this Wesen thing," Steve said. "Dustin's terrible at it."

She smiled up at him. "We'll learn together."

Dinner was a simple affair. Hopper hadn't let Steve help at all, so he had sat on the couch and watched Dustin and El play card games until spaghetti was on the table. The kids were loud and chaotic, thrilled to be around each other again, and it didn't matter that Steve only talked when someone asked him a question. Somehow, he made it through the meal, even when every bite churned in his stomach.

Even when Dustin kept sending him little looks of concern, always too perceptive for his own good.

They said their goodbyes quickly, even when El begged them to stay. Hopper, laughing, had told her they couldn't stay forever, and waved them out of the cabin and into the car.

When Steve pulled into the Henderson's driveway, Dustin hesitated before opening the door.

"So, I've been thinking," Dustin said, "and I don't think I should go to Camp Know-Where this year."

Immediately, Steve knew he had fucked up. Dustin had talked about little else since the spring semester had started. No matter what problem he'd had, whether it was bullies or how boring his classes were, Dustin had changed the subject to how good this summer was going to be. And Steve got it. Really, he did. If he'd grown up in a town where no one cared about sports and bullied him for liking basketball, he'd be fucking stoked to spend some time with people who understood him, too.

But now Steve had ruined that for him, too.

"Absolutely not."

"I can't just…" Dustin looked distressed, and Steve was all the more determined to send the little shit to camp himself. "What if something happens while you're away?"

"What's gonna happen?" Steve said, even as his brain played a horror film of all the things he could do without Dustin as a buffer for the rest of the world. He tried to borrow a little of Hopper's confidence. "I just have to get a handle on my instincts, that's all."

"I don't think sitting in your house alone all summer–" Dustin started, but Steve cut him off, slicing his hand through the air.

"You're going to your shitty little nerd camp, Dustin, and that is final." Before Dustin could protest again, Steve continued, "I have to get a job this summer anyway, remember? Official Bradley Harrington decree. Even if you stayed home, we wouldn't be able to hang out all day. You can't, like, come to work with me."

Dustin didn't look convinced. "What if something happens?"

Honestly, Steve didn't know, either. "You know, I'll call…" Who? The last thing Steve wanted was to disappoint Hopper, so he and El were out. The kids were too young to help with this shit, anyway, and Steve didn't really know many other people. That only left… "I'll call Jonathan or Nancy, okay?"

"You're really gonna call your ex-girlfriend and tell her you went insane and beat the shit out of somebody?"

Steve sighed. "If I say yes, will you go to camp?"

Dustin nodded. "Honestly, I kind of hope you fuck up, now."

Closing his eyes, Steve responded: "Get the fuck out of my car, Henderson."

The rest of the spring went smoothly. Steve kept to himself at school; He had already descended into minor loserdom after everything with Billy, so it was a piece of cake to stop making eye contact with anyone he wasn't completely sure was human. Graduation came and went with little fanfare. He skipped the ceremony, and made up some shitty excuse about a vacation with his parents.

He and the kids ate pizza and watched movies all night. Steve pretended not to see the pity in Nancy's eyes when she picked up Mike and Will the next morning. He waved politely at Jonathan and closed the door.

A few weeks later, Dustin left for camp.

He started work that same week, and Steve was grateful for the distraction. Orientation was a quick affair, the manager running him through health and safety protocol and quizzing him on customer service. Steve wore his best mask the whole time, smiling at all the right times, frowning thoughtfully when he was supposed to.

"Let me introduce you to your coworker," the manager said, and led Steve into the back room. A girl sat at the table there. She was wearing the same awful uniform that Steve currently held in his hands, but Steve could still see the nerdom radiating off her. Something about the hair and the tacky thrift-store jewelry. This wasn't one of 'his' crowd, and Steve breathed a little easier for it. "Steve, this is Robin Buckley. Rob–"

"I know who he is," Robin said, and raised her head.

The woge rippled across her face, revealing fur and piercing golden eyes.

[Next Chapter]

#my fic #monster hunting and werewolves and such #but it's slow burn #steddie #steve harrington #super steve centric #also autistic steve imo #uh yeah das it #only I must wander

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skatingbi · 2 months

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Here's a continuation of the Hakuri/Chihiro College AU bc i passed all my classes this semester :3

After moving in, Hakuri struggles to adjust to Chihiro's living space. Its not like Chihiro is broke right now, with having inherited his dad's finances and other possessions, but its a stark contrast between his own upbringing and Chihiro's that gives him whiplash.

Chihiro is extremely patient. Its almost to the point where he's never really seen that guy pissed off before. Well, thats a lie, he did see Chihiro threaten Soya's life on the phone after basically saving Hakuri's life, but that wasnt even a physical altercation. Its was basically thirty minutes of Chihiro explaining in great detail (down to the goddamn law) how he would make sure Soya not only loses his hands but also ends up in prison. Soya hasnt called back since.

Maybe it was for the best, though.

What really makes Hakuri struggle to adjust, though, is Chihiro's borderline insane ability to somehow be a mind reader. He somehow knows every time Hakuri has had a nightmare, if Hakuri is on the verge of a panic attack, if Hakuri needs space and even when he's having trouble managing his pain despite the years of practicing his poker face.

Its...scary. Its also really, really nice.

The first month is Hakuri and Chihiro dancing around each other as they try to remember they share a space now. A few times, Hakuri screams when the other accidentally enters his room (it used to be a guest room after the previous roommate moved out to start her new business, a cafe, which is apparently only a block away), and Chihiro gets surprised when Hakuri enters the kitchen. Sometimes they would awkwardly sit next to each other while watching tv until they go to sleep, and other times they accidentally talk throughout the night until the fall asleep on top of each other on the couch at three in the morning.

Im too lazy to write more bc im cleaning rn but like..yeah. Hinao would meet Hakuri and immediantly give Chihiro the look and it all goes downhill from there with how much she texts him cringy date ideas she found on tiktok. Shiba comes over unannounced and scares the hell outta Hakuri but after the initial awkwardness Shiba immediately likes the kid. And says such to Chihiro, something like "Thank god youre not gonna die alone, kid."

The weirdest relationship is Hakuri and Hiyuki's mutual respect for each other since Chihiro and her are kinda rivals. They dont hate each other but they definitely argue a lot whenever they end up in the same classes.

Tbh if I were to write this i would only have hakuri's family pop up as a major plot point once, since i dont like repetitive scenes with the same antagonists. Soya already tried once and got his ass beat so he wouldnt again, but Kyora would probably try to contact hakuri and it'd be more of a subplot kinda ordeal. Chihiro's main conflict would likely revolve around his canon story, but instead of fighting the man reaponsible for his father's death he would personally keep tabs on anything he finds so once he's legally able to pursue them he's have all the material he needs.

Again, i dont want to make this AU too dramatic. Its a modern College AU so like...I wanna keep it semi realistic while it being dramatic and entertaining, yaknow?

#this is all word vomit #i didnt even proofread this #kagurabachi #hakuri x chihiro #chihiro rokuhira x hakuri sazanami #chihiro rokuhira #sazanami hakuri #mentioned hiyuki #mentioned shiba #mentioned kyora #mentioned soya #hakuri sazanami #hakuhiro

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delusioncorner · 2 months

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Knock at the Window

(Spider-Man x Reader)(T)

Whilst studying for a big final exam, you hear a knock coming from your bedroom window...which is weird because you live on the 5th floor of an apartment building. Who on earth could that be?

(This is kind of long and maybe a bit shit but I wrote it because I lowkey miss school)

The words begin to blur for the seventh time since I've started the tedious- and albeit very stupid- task of pulling an all-nighter for the exam I have tomorrow morning at exactly 7:30 in the morning. Hard, heavy blinks start to plague my eyes and I thought very briefly that I was going to lose this battle that I was fighting with my sleep. I sigh and close my eyes tight, taking deep breaths in and out, in and out, in and out.

When I open my eyes again I look towards the clock hanging on my wall and feel a sense of dread crawl up my spine. 3:45am. Another sigh escapes my lips and my heart begins to race. It's almost 4 in the morning, my exam- that my entire career depends on- is in 3 and a half hours, and I've barely read through half the notes I've taken in preparation for this goddamned test. My eyes start to well with tears and a sense of helplessness fills me rapidly. I've just been so busy the past couple of days with work, school, and my internship at Alchemex. Everything I do combines into one long event that starts at 6am and ends at about 9pm and the times I do have a small break I spend it with Peter. I know I should be focusing on my studies especially with the end of the year staring me right in the face and the promise of grad school welcoming me with its new and exciting embrace but I can't help it.

Peter Parker is in the Bio-Chemistry class I'm taking this semester- the class that I'm attempting to study for at the moment. He's one of the smartest people I've ever met and the depth in which he understands such complex theories will always astound me. I could have been studying with Peter and I honestly should have since he is quite the talented student but I can't focus on anything but him when he's around. It's quite the hopeless predicament I've found myself in. I'd like to think he shares the same feelings for me as I do him but every time I think something is about to happen between us he has to leave. It's happened too often for it to be a coincidence.

Today was a perfect example of that very thing happening. Peter and I were walking through the campus courtyard from our shared class, side-by-side, our hands brushing as we admired the cherry blossoms with their maroon-colored leaves. We talked aimlessly for what seemed like hours but were in reality only a few minutes before we reached the the grand fountain located in the middle of the school. We sat there and spoke, getting closer to one another as the minutes passed, until our hands overlapped. He said something that made me laugh and after I had settled our eyes locked and I felt my upper body leaning toward him like we were magnets, destined to connect. I looked at him through my lashes and tilted my head. I needed to feel his lips against mine. I needed us to feel one another. I needed him to need me just as much as I needed him. Just as our lips almost met...his phone went off and he was gone, running away frantically almost like he was awakened from a trance. I had no choice but to watch him leave.

I texted him before I started my slow descent into madness and I've still yet to receive a text back. I feel sick to my stomach. Recounting that memory combined with my sleep deprivation has turned my stomach in a way I hadn't been expecting. Standing, I carefully stretch and drink a bit of water because I am not about to throw up at- I glance over at the clock again- 4 in the morning.

Great. I managed to kill 15 minutes drooling over Peter. Could I get any more paths-

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I still. Was it my door? It couldn't be. My roommates are all sleeping. Walking over to my door, I open it anyway. Greeted with nothing, I turn to retreat into my room and before I get the chance to close my door I hear another sound.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

The tapping transitioned into harder, heavier knocks. They sound frantic. I know it's not my door this time so I turn to my window. My curtain-shrouded, no-fire-escape-having, 5th-story window.

"Dude, there's literally no way that knocking is coming from my window right now."

A gruff, strained, and slightly muffled voice comes from right outside the window. "Please. Please open the window." It's a man. I hesitate briefly but decide that if someone is truly outside my window right now, then it must be someone...interesting and I've always been a curious person. I close my door and saunter towards my window. Dread is filling me once again but I punch it down. I'll just take a small peek and if it's like the Green Goblin or some other nefarious ne'er-do-weller then I'll simply accept my fate and die.

...Yeah. Yeah, that's what my options are. I either die or...some other second option. Hopefully, option number two is better than death. So, which will it be?'

I reach the window and slightly move the curtain to reveal Spider-Man. The Spider-Man. Even though I couldn't see his entire body I saw enough. I saw his bright red and blue suit. I saw one of his gloved hands and I saw a sliver of his other hand clutching his side. His back was against the wall of my building, almost as if he were glued to it. Spider-Man is a good man. He helps the city and he totally fought some giant dude dressed as a rhinoceros last week who threatened to do something dastardly to the town so I think I would be okay if I let him in. Plus, it seems like he's injured and I'm not a monster. I glance at the clock once more- it reads 4:10- before I rip open my window.

As quickly as I open the window, Spider-Man is through it, and closing the window behind him with just as much speed, then he slunks against my wall in a boneless heap. His breaths are heavy and small helpless whines escape his mask-shrouded lips. I tell him that I'll be back and swiftly leave my room, closing the door behind me, and running down the hallway to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. When I return, Spider-Man is away from the window and slumped over in my desk chair.

"Thanks for letting me in. Also sorry for getting blood on your rug maybe? I don't know actually, I didn't really pay attention." He's rambling. He's distracting himself from the pain, I can tell. He continues, "You really just went right to work, didn't you? No 'Hi' or 'Woah! Spider-Man? What a silly thing that's happening right now,' you just up and got a...first aid kit? Thanks but I'm okay. It's just a flesh wound."

"You're bleeding a lot. One could even use the word profusely. I don't know what kind of weird business you have going on but I can just...I don't know? Stitch you up? My mom was a nurse and she taught me a few basics on how to fix up small wounds." I open the first aid kit as I babble on. The room is beginning to smell like iron and I feel lightheaded. He begrudgingly agrees after I beg him to let me help and I thank him. He lets me gently lift the top of his suit and I get to it. I feel sick and as he hisses in pain as the needle digs into his skin, I can't help but also feel sorry for the pain I'm causing him.

He goes on to comfort me as I finish stitching him. He keeps up a nice banter with me, making jokes and asking me other questions about my hobbies, and soon enough I'm tying up the last stitch and taping a bandage over the wound. I take a deep breath and ask him if he's hurt anywhere else. He says no but I still do a quick check. I cannot be responsible for the demise of New York's favorite web-slinger all because I was reckless. I didn't realize it but I said that part out loud. He started to laugh. His low laugh turned into a loud booming fit of hysterics and I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips.

He seems so familiar but I can't pinpoint it. I'm so comfortable with this man that I've just met. I blame it on the fact that he's a well-known vigilante who helps others but the whole time we were talking, I couldn't help but compare him to Peter. Their mannerisms and humor are so similar that it seems like they could be the same people but that's such a far-fetched theory that I swept it from my mind as quickly as it entered.

More minutes passed and I accepted the fact that I'd probably fail this test. Maybe, if I play my cards right, I could convince my professor to let me take it again? Say I developed nasty stomach flu or maybe I'll say my mother is in the hospital. He doesn't know she's dead so no harm no foul. Spider-Man and I discuss everything from star signs to the best delis in the area. Our tones get softer and I feel a wave of calm wash over me for the first time in 3 days. A yawn escapes my lips and I accept defeat. I'll email my professor when I wake up. Hopefully, he's understanding.

Spider-Man also seems to have reached his limits. He stands and stretches his arms over his head, groaning obnoxiously in the same way Peter does. Spider-Man thanks me for my help and for the conversation but mentions how he has something to do soon and should probably leave. I don't want him to leave. I find myself wanting to keep him. A courage that I am unfamiliar with strikes my body and suddenly I'm reaching for his mask. I rest my hands on his cheeks as a silent question. Can I? He nods slowly and suddenly there I am, in the middle of my bedroom at who-knows-when, peeling the bottom part of his mask up, stopping just below his nose. I sway forward and all at once, we're kissing.

It's brief, almost as if it was a thank you. A thank you to him for helping me relax in my state of study-induced panic and maybe a thank you from him for helping him? For showing him kindness? Whatever the thanks was for didn't matter, so long as I felt it. When we parted, he pulled his mask down and walked towards the window, opening it, and preparing to disappear into the night. I spoke up one last time.

" Why did you come to my window? Seems pretty random, no?"

He simply looks over his shoulder and says, "Because I knew you'd open the window." And just like that he's gone and I'm left to ponder.

He knew I'd open the window?

#peter parker #spider man #spiderman #the amazing spiderman #spiderman x reader #peter parker x reader #my fic #i wrote this while exhausted #if this sucks #shhhh #no it doesnt #its just something fun #I didn't edit this

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choicesmc · 4 months

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got really long so under the read more!! (I have a part two for Mr Erndheart sometime soon)

Rams’ life is a lesson in learning the wrong lesson. A significant event for xim is 7th Grade, Cycle 2 (out of 4 so end of Winter Semester), Progress Report. Rams had always tried to be a Grade A student —and most of the time, co is. Sometimes, y’know, a couple B’s pop around, but for a kid not being actively pushed for high grades, it’s —it’s something great. But Rams has issues. Namely, co’s Seasonal Depression and 7th Grade had a lotta changes. New state, new place, new school (and, damn it, it’s one of those K-12 where everyone’s known each other for a their whole life and new kids a’rarer than a dry spell in the middle of winter). And it’s, it’s a lot of adjustments. Rams thinks co just needs time.

Easy Version: Xe’s not taking it well. Cycle 1? Eight classes: 7 B’s (by a technicality, some were 79.6 sorts that rounded to 80s) and an A (90.1).

Second cycle and it all goes to hell. Xe hasn’t made friends, the worst of winter depression is creeping up in xim (not that xe knew what it was yet, at this point all xe knew was that winter = A Bad Time), there’s no where to go. It’s either school or home, there’s no diner to hide away in, no, no libraries open by the time co gets home, not even a protected abandoned home/area to loiter and explore. Rams is stuck, actually stuck, in two places that are drenched in negative feelings and can’t escape at all.

Turning in work and studying kinda falls to the side when co is struggling just to get out of bed and get to school and stay in class and listen (<- though co ends up falling asleep most of the time anyway making it all so useless anyhow) and Most Important to A Middle Schooler not breaking down in the hallways every five minutes and making a complete and absolute fool of coself that’ll isolate co from the rest of the student body. Forever.

So zir isn’t surprised (but definitely crushed) when the progress reports come out and ze has 4 C’s and 3 D’s. All the way home (on the bus, rest of class, through lunch), ze wonders what Mr Erndheart will think. He doesn’t involve himself in Rams’ academics often but, to this point, there hasn’t been a need to. But this (and rams has to check, make sure the paper is real) this is B. A. D.

But Rams is resolved to see this through. Ze’ll give Mr Erndheart the paper and see what happens. (And ze’s a little nervous but kind of excited?! Mr Erndheart’s bad at expressing himself so Rams never knows what he’s really thinking. This could be the chance for them to bond and, y’know, Rams could use a little parental love and care and support right now.)

So co hands the paper over the minute co gets home.

Mr Erndheart glances at it, looks it over (maybe it’s a minute longer than usual!!), and hands it straight back. There’s an awkward half smile on his face but Rams is trying to see past it.

But theres nothing to see.

It dawns on Rams.

It doesn’t matter if co’s passing or failing. If Mr Erndheart, co’s goddamn guardian, can’t bring himself to care. Then, then, nobody cares. Nobody cares about co.

Over the years this rule gets a couple tweaks to make co more sociable. Like, people will like co if co is reliable (still doesn’t mean they care about cos) so co should strive for absolute and complete dependability. Make sure that if no one will care about co, they can at least like cos.

Rams pretends to be content with that. Ze really does. But ze’s not. Ze really isn’t. But ze that’s just the core foundation of who ze is. It’s okay. It’s been like this forever. And ze has lived around it for a good chunk of zir life. So its. Fine.

#rams erndheart #tiny tidbits

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daechwitatamic · 2 years

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Chapter 5: Childish || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: What Was Hidden (Masterpost)

Rating: explicit, minors DNI pls

Genre: college!au, angst, eventual smut, strangers -> friends -> lovers -> idiots -> lovers

Pairings: Taehyung x female reader, MYG x OC

Summary: This is how it all starts: Taehyung is flunking Western Lit. You’re assigned to tutor him. His paper on Strindberg’s The Ghost Sonata could pass or fail him for the semester. As you and Taehyung slowly become friends, then more, you learn that there’s a lot more to him than you originally assumed. Together, you navigate your own experiences with the play’s themes: one’s “true self” versus one’s “shown self”, darkness behind the facade, and how people can be quite literally haunted - and it has nothing to do with ghosts.

In which you and Taehyung address what happened at movie night.

Chapter Warnings: language, kissing, bad rap lyrics… listen i tried my best ok

Word Count: 3.8k

Note: This is a duplicate of Chapter 5. Apologies if you already interacted with the first version - it wasn't showing up in searched tags. The Ghost Post for Chapter 5 is here.

I saw the sun and thought I saw what was hidden The Ghost Sonata | Scene III August Strindberg

Chapter 5: Childish

Sunday, November 18th

In the morning, Kiko’s bed is empty, so you text her, “Good morning???”

Instead of answering you with words, she sends you a Soundcloud link titled, Sirens [DEMO] - MYG ft K!k0.

[9:02 AM] Kiko✌️: sry for bailing on the movie but we finished this

You scramble for your earpods, eagerly starting the track. The beat starts, fast and angry, and then Yoongi’s rapping starts.

All these months at sea have got me seeing shit I close my eyes and take an even bigger hit Your siren call has got my fucking guard up These last six months I’ve been so fucking hard up Snared by your beauty as you pass by Your siren song is just another goddamn lie I have heard you singing, each to each You’ve always been just outside my reach Part of me wants to let you drag me down Til human voices wake us and we fucking drown I’m powerless to fight it, I refuse to try Your siren song is just another goddamn lie

The chorus starts, and you hear Kiko for the first time. Her voice comes in sweet and steady, definitely her, haunting as it traverses the minor key.

“Holy shit,” you say out loud, pulling out your earpods and scrambling up the ladder to Bridget’s top bunk. She whines in complaint as you scoot in next to her, poking her arm.

“Wake up, you have to hear this,” you tell her. “Look at our baby go!”

[9:10 AM] You: omg omg omg that’s so good i literally woke b up to listen to it too

[9:11 AM] You: she hates me but she loves the track

[9:12 AM] You: your VOICE iasnfoiajefjef

[9:14 AM] Kiko✌️: thaaaanks 🥺🥺🥺

[9:16 AM] You: if he gets famous w that hes gonna get a cease and desist letter from Eliot’s people lmaooo

[9:19 AM] Kiko✌️: ????

[9:20 AM] You: ts eliot? the poem?

[9:22 AM] You: ‘i have heard them singing, each to each’

[9:23 AM] You: ‘til human voices wake us and we drown’

[9:24 AM] You: they’re from that longass ts eliot poem idr the name of it

[9:25 AM] You: hold on im looking it up

You send her the link to The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock and click your screen off.

“You think he wrote that about her?” Bridget muses, eyes still closed.

“No way,” you say. “You’d have to have some serious audacity to ask a girl to feature vocals on a track you wrote about trying to resist her charms…”

“Maybe he has a lot of audacity,” she murmurs.

You kick your way under her blankets - your feet are freezing - and put your earpods back in, turning your screen back on to listen to it again.

Monday, November 19th

Monday brings sunshine, even if it is freezing cold. You’re leaving your final class, your laptop bag heavy on your shoulder, when a phone call comes in from Bianca.

“Hey, Y/N,” she says when you pick up. “I figured this would be easier than emailing back and forth five times. I’m trying to reschedule your session with Taehyung. Are you feeling better?”

“Oh,” you say, stomach dropping. Good, now that you and Taehyung aren’t speaking you can spend an extra hour alone with him! “Yeah, I’m all better. Thanks.”

“Great,” she says. “Can you do tomorrow morning? I know it’s kind of late notice,” she says apologetically.

“I’d have to be done by ten for class,” you tell her.

Bianca schedules you for nine the next morning, and tells you she’ll email you both to confirm.

You’re at dinner with Bridget that night when Taehyung texts you about it.

[7:55 PM] Taehyung: hi. Would you be okay with doing tutoring at the coffee shop tmrw instead of the library

[7:56 PM] Taehyung: i have class at 10 and its closer to the academic buildings

You wave your foot around in discomfort. You hate knowing you hurt his feelings. He’s obviously upset, or this would’ve been a facetime call.

[7:59 PM] You: yep. See you at 9.

He doesn’t answer.

Tuesday, November 20th

When you reach the cafe in the morning, Taehyung’s already in a booth, books open on the table. You pause at the edge of the table, and he looks up at you, but doesn’t say anything.

“Morning,” you said uneasily. “I’m gonna get in line and order my coffee, and then we can start?”

“Sure,” he says, and goes right back to highlighting the Strindberg text.

You frown, crossing your arms. “Is this how it’s going to be for the whole hour? Are you even going to speak to me?”

“If I need help with the work,” he allows, eyes still on the text.

“Taehyung,” you say, frustrated, “don’t be childish -.”

“I’m being childish?” he echoes, eyebrows raising indignantly. “You started the cold shoulder shit just because I dared hang out with a friend when we -.”

When we… aren’t anything in the first place. You know that’s the end of the sentence. You know that’s the truth. There was nothing between you two but potential, but that had spoiled now. You don’t wait for the end of the sentence. You turn on your heel to leave.

“Wait,” he says quickly, and reaches for your hand, holding your fingers tightly. “I’m sorry. Don’t leave.”

You stand there, his fingers still clutching yours, frozen. His hand is warm on yours, his eyes intense, and you feel like he could just tug you right down there next to him with very little effort.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “Let’s just… I’ll work on the paper. Let’s just… work.”

You don’t really have a choice. You’re contracted for an hour. Pursing your lips, you set your bag on the empty bench.

“I’m going to order my coffee,” you tell him quietly, and he nods, finally dropping your hand. When you return, you settle in and get your laptop running.

“Okay,” you say, eager to put the arguing behind you and get to work. “What step of the paper are you on? Isn’t it due this week?”

“Yeah, by Friday at midnight,” he tells you. “I’m just done taking my notes for the disillusionment theme and then I can start typing it up.”

“How can I help today?” you ask.

He frowns, sliding the Strindberg text between you. “I was looking at his last little bit here,” he says, pointing with his capped highlighter. “I saw the sun and thought I saw what was hidden - I was going to write about the word thought - like, he thought he knew what was there, he thought he was seeing something hidden that was beautiful and good. Like, he saw the darkness behind the facade, but then the sun shone on this spot and he thought that behind the darkness there was still something good… but he was wrong.”

“Tae,” you say, quietly.

He gives you a warning look. “Don’t,” he says. “Focus on the paper. Am I onto something worth putting in the paper?”

“Yeah,” you say, begrudgingly. “It’s good.”

He nods and writes something down in the notebook he has open next to the text. When he’s done, he opens his laptop and gets typing away. You drop your eyes, focus on your coffee.

He types for about fifteen minutes and you don’t talk as he works. When you hear the sound of clicking keys stop, you glance up to see if he needs to be reminded to focus, as he asked.

But instead of looking distracted - out the window, or at his phone - he’s looking at you. He’s pouting, lips protruding, and it’s so fucking cute that it makes you feel angry.

“What?” you snap, but you’re fighting a smile.

“I can’t stand that you’re mad at me,” he admits. “I should have told you I had a girl at the house, that it was a friend. I’m sorry. I know that we aren’t… y’know… but if I’d run into you with a guy like that I think I’d…” He trails off, half-formed thoughts tripping him up. “It would have felt bad. And I did not mean to make you feel bad.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine,” you tell him. “You can do whatever you want. You owe me nothing. I shouldn’t have gotten upset. I was trying to be chill about it and just… failing miserably.”

“You don’t send someone homemade soup and then show up with another girl,” he says, shaking his head. “I screwed up.”

“You didn’t,” you tell him gently. “It’s fine. I’d like it if we just… moved on.”

–

By the time your hour is up, Taehyung has finished typing most of the paper. You make him promise to finish it and send it to you to look over before your normal Wednesday morning session tomorrow.

You gather up your things and wait as Taehyung does the same. Once you’re both ready, you turn and walk towards the door; you both have class right after, and you’re in a bit of a hurry to make it on time.

The line of students trying to grab a coffee before the ten o’clock classes start is quite long, reaching almost to the door. And at the end of it stands Davis.

You drop your eyes quickly, as if seeing him would make him more likely to see you. You scrunch down into your sweater, hiking your bag higher on your shoulder, and pick up your pace.

Taehyung is suddenly beside you instead of behind you, his arm around your shoulders, pulling you tightly up against him as you walk side by side. He’s warm and solid against you, and you feel the tight fist that had been wrapping itself around your lungs release a little bit. It just feels instantly… safer. You keep your eyes down, but you feel Taehyung turn to look at Davis as you pass by. He reaches forward to open the door, and you step through together.

“Thanks,” you mutter, still watching the very fascinating pavement.

“You have to stop running from him,” he tells you seriously. “He’s garbage, and you’re…”

You’re what?

He shakes his head. “You shouldn’t let him get to you like that,” he amends.

You scuff your sneaker along the path. “Which way are you going?” you ask him.

“Pastorino Building,” he tells you, pointing.

“Me too.”

When he holds out his hand for you, you take it.

[11:44 AM] Taehyung: you finally took me off of read, huh?

[11:52 AM] You: ???

[11:54 AM] Taehyung: insta

[11:56 AM] You: lol oh

[11:57 AM] You: yeah u earned it i guess

[12:00 PM] Taehyung: “i guess” o ok then 🙄

[12:11 PM] Nina💕: y is ur new man messing with Davis????

[12:14 PM] You: 100% honesty, i have nooooo idea what ur talking abt

[12:16 PM] Nina💕: walking around campus giving him dirty looks nd shit, real mature

[12:19 PM] You: omfg. i need everyone to grow the fuck up pls.

[12:20 PM] You: knowing davis and knowing taehyung, i’d guess they saw each other ONCE and if tae didn’t smile then davis went and cried like a fucking baby

It’s almost twelve hours later, after you’re in bed working on getting sleepy, that you realize that Nina had said “your new man” and you’d done nothing to refute this.

Fuck.

Wednesday, November 21st

You’re - stupidly - excited for your tutoring hour on Wednesday morning. You don’t know what is starting with you and Taehyung, but something is. But when you arrive at eleven on the dot, he’s not there. He’s still not there five minutes later, and you shoot him a quick text - “we on for tutoring?”

Two minutes later, he comes up behind you, practically panting, a paper travel mug in each hand.

“Sorry,” he says, “I was already running a minute or two late because the line was so long, and then I got here and I couldn’t open the door -.”

You crack up, reaching to take the cups from his hands and place them on the table.

“Did you bring me coffee?” you ask accusingly, a smile creeping across your face.

“I’m still trying to make up for Saturday,” he says with a laugh, pulling out a chair on the other side of the table.

“You have already, and then some,” you tell him seriously.

“I hope I ordered it how you like it,” he says sheepishly.

“I’m not picky,” you assure him. “So, what are we working on today?”

“All business, huh? Even when I bring you coffee?” he teases, eyes crinkling.

“I’m all business when I’m on the clock,” you agree. “Talk to me in fifty-three minutes and I can be more fun.”

“You’re fun anyway,” he says, eyeing you sideways as he takes out his laptop. “Anyway, I finished the paper last night. Can I send it to you now? Then I can start my Chekhov reading while you look it over?”

“That sounds perfect,” you tell him. “Chekhov, huh? Three Sisters?”

"Cherry Orchard," he corrects you.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” you tell him. “I’m excited to see what you think. I do like Three Sisters better, though, if I had to choose.”

“I don’t get to choose,” he says lightly. “I just sent you the paper, did you get it?”

“I’m surprised you even know how to use the school email,” you murmur without thinking, eyes on your screen, and you’re surprised when he laughs, one hand coming up to cover his mouth.

“Sorry,” you laugh. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“Oh, but it’s fine if you think it?” he challenges, raising one eyebrow. Something stirs in your stomach.

“Shut up and do your reading,” you say, laughing, doing your best to ignore the flutter of attraction.

When your hour is up, you walk together towards the cafeteria as you have on other Wednesday mornings. But instead of splitting up, Taehyung raises that eyebrow at you again, as if issuing a dare.

“Want to sit together?” he asks.

You grin. “Yeah,” you say. “But you might have to deal with my roommates when they figure out I ditched them.”

Thursday, November 22nd

Thursday is cold, but the sun shines brightly, so you decide to walk at your trail between your morning class and your afternoon class. It’s too cold to sit on your bench for long, but at least the walk will give you some exercise, and some good thinking time. Your mind is disgustingly full of Taehyung - the easy back and forth you have, how shockingly different he is from your expectations, the fucking cute way he pouts as he eats, the sexy way he rolls his tshirt sleeves, the way his smile will start so tentatively and then blast full-wattage out of nowhere. You walk quickly, the cold hitting you sharply, like a slap in the face, and you need it. It knocks some sense into you. You’re a fucking mess, and you feel a little out of control with it.

You head back to your room to take a quick shower before your 2:30 class, opting to skip lunch. You haven’t eaten since breakfast, and you know you won’t be able to eat until tutoring ends at 7. You wonder if you’d be able to talk Taehyung into doing tutoring from the cafeteria.

You somehow manage to make it on time for Becky at 5:00, barely, but you’re starving by the time Taehyung plops down in the seat across from you.

You tell him hello absently, already digging in your bag for your wallet, ready to ask him if he’d mind doing tutoring somewhere with food.

“Oh, goddamn,” you murmur, shifting your laptop out of the way and scraping around the bottom of your bag.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung asks, peering at you.

“I can’t find my wallet,” you tell him, starting to take things out of the bag one by one. Then suddenly you freeze, your wide eyes meeting his across the table. “Oh shit,” you utter. “I think I dropped it at the trail.”

“The trail?” he echoes.

“The walking trails over at the nature preserve,” you clarify, still horrified. “I went walking there before class and I had my wallet with me then, and now that I’m thinking about it, I didn’t have it when I packed my bag for class.”

Taehyung looks at you, calculating. Then he nods and says, “Okay, so let’s go get it.”

“What?” you say, sure you misheard him. “Now? It’s dark. And freezing.”

He shrugs. “We’ll bundle up. It’ll be fun, like a little adventure.”

“Trespassing on closed trails in the dark - in snow temperatures - does not sound like an adventure,” you tell him.

“Come on,” he goads. “What else are you going to do? You’re in classes until it’s dark tomorrow, you won’t be able to go look.”

You frown at him. “How do you know my class schedule?”

“I pay attention,” he says, waving a hand at you, like this is insignificant. “So? We’ll use our phones and follow where you walked. It could still be there.”

You stop to consider it. You could just consider it a loss - freeze your credit card, replace your drivers license. Or you could wait and see if anyone turned it into the police or campus security. Surely, this isn’t so pressing that you need to go now.

But.

But, going for a nighttime walk with Taehyung - even if it is fucking cold out - does sound kind of exciting.

“What about tutoring?” you ask, resolve crumbling.

“We’ll talk about Ibsen the whole time,” he says, already starting to pack up his bag. “Come on, there’s a parking lot at the trailhead, I’ll drive us over.”

There are no other cars in the lot when you park - probably because the whole nature preserve closes at sundown, which was about three hours ago. Taehyung turns off the car and you both get out, turning the flashlights on your phones on. You guide him to the trail you took, and walk in silence for a few minutes, beams crisscrossing the trail as you go.

“I turned my paper in yesterday,” he tells you. You’re shivering a little, searching the edge of the path. “Two days early. Do I get extra points for being early?”

“No,” you tell him flatly. “But yours will be one of the first she grades. I’m excited to see her feedback.”

“She’ll probably think I cheated,” Taehyung laughs.

“No,” you disagree. “It definitely still sounded like you wrote it. Your voice came through.”

He looks at you across the path, only a silhouette from your phones illuminating patches on the ground. In the dark, you can’t make out his face at all, can’t read his eyes or his expression.

“You did a good job,” you reassure him again. “It was well written.”

“Thanks,” he says finally.

You walk in silence a little longer. You can’t see anything except the small circle on the ground from your phone, and it’s eerie. You’re glad Taehyung is with you, but you’re half tempted to step closer to him, to walk in his wake instead of on your own. You shiver again, your face aching from the cold, your fingers going numb.

This was probably a dumb idea.

You reach your bench and you hurry over, sure that if your wallet fell out of your pocket it would have been while you were seated. Sure enough, you find it under the bench, in a small tuft of dead grass. It occurs to you that Taehyung is here in your most sacred thinking spot, but you’d never brought Davis here even though you’d been dating for almost two whole school years as students here.

“Got it!” you cheer, turning to find Taehyung by the location of his phone’s light.

He comes up next to you, putting his hands on your upper arms. You’re still shivering slightly.

“You cold?” he murmurs, and you’ve never heard that tone of voice on him before. It’s low, almost guttural, and your body responds to it immediately, the blood rushing away from your head.

“Mhm,” you say, not trusting yourself to try and form words.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in, and you lean in, soaking in his warmth. This is fine - this is nice - but then he moves a hand to gently tip your chin up and leans in to kiss you. His lips are soft against yours, but his kiss isn’t. As soon as he can feel you kissing him back, he reaches both arms around you again, tugging you tight against him as your lips crash together.

You manage to sneak a hand out of his tight embrace and curl your fingers through the wavy hair at the nape of his neck; you tug just a little and his mouth opens for yours, a tiny groan escaping him as if against his will as his tongue touches yours for the first time.

Everything about the kiss is slow but purposeful, intense in its lack of frantic energy. He kisses you like he’s got his whole life to keep it up, like there’s no reason to rush when he can take it this slow and feel everything, notice everything, love everything that you do.

You bring one freezing hand up to touch his jaw, your thumb rubbing a gentle line along the bone, and he shivers under your touch. He moves to tangle one hand in your hair, and suddenly it’s an entirely different kiss, all the energy and aggression that he seemed to be holding back earlier now bursting forth.

You appreciate the variety.

You release his hand and clutch the front of his zippered winter coat, pulling him closer, though it doesn’t seem possible. You want him closer. You want him to kiss you for a hundred more hours.

He nips your bottom lip and you whimper without meaning to; he groans again in response to this, moving to kiss a line down your jaw and down to your neck. The air is instantly freezing in the wake of his hot mouth, and you shudder in his hands.

When he finally pulls away, leaning back to look at your flushed face, he asks, “How about now?”

You laugh, once, and whack him in the chest. “A little better,” you admit.

He presses his forehead to yours and inhales deeply. “I would like to do that again without the puffy winter coats on,” he tells you.

You laugh again, stepping back a little bit. “Okay,” you tell him. “I think that can be arranged.”

Thank you so much for being here! I appreciate every single like, reblog, dm, ask, or reply!

As always, a million thanks to @kookstempo for being an expert turkey-wrangler and also for beta-ing!

#taehyung x reader #taehyung fic #dailydaegu #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #college au #s2l #f2l #bts x reader #taehyung smut #(but not in this chapter for full disclosure)#fic: what was hidden

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?

Masterlist

The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!

Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)

Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.

Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-

MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.

News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are

At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.

Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!

If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.

Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.

If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.

On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.

If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.

No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.

MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.

“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.

“Yep!”

“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”

“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”

“Really now? Name one person.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.

“…Cerberus.”

“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”

…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…

“You’re grounded.”

“Worth it.”

*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)

Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-

Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…

Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.

If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.

He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.

Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.

When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.

If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.

This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.

Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.

MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.

“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”

“Five years?”

“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”

Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”

“You mean your pyramid scheme?”

“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”

“It’s a pyramid scheme.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)

Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.

So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.

Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!

Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”

For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!

When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.

The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-

Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!

IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!

Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.

The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.

Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.

H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?

Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…

Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!

“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”

“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”

“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”

“Oh… really?”

“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”

The Know it All (Satan)

Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.

Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.

MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.

The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…

Their spines lined with duct tape… pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…

The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.

He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.

It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.

Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.

…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.

He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.

MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…

“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”

MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”

“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.

“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.

“Yes, why?”

“Satan, put that back.”

“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)

Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~

Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)

He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!

While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.

Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.

If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.

Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.

After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!

The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…

Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.

Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.

“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”

MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.

“MC..?”

“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”

Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”

Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)

Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!

He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.

Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.

But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?

MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.

And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.

Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”

Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.

Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.

Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.

After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.

They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.

“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.

“So I can eat this?”

“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”

“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”

“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”

“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)

MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.

They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.

MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.

He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” “really now?” then yawn.

The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.

Other than that? *snore*

If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.

MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.

“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”

“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”

“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”

“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”

MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”

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clarrissanewt · 3 years

Text

Attraction and Love

Pairing: Harry Potter x fem!reader

Warnings: college!au, enemies to lovers, swearing

Requested?: no, but definitely wanted;)

Summary: A college, two rivals and an unending urge to strangle each other's throat- where would the undeniable attraction show it's color?

A/n: thought of this with zero experience on college life, do let me know if something's wonky!

To say her spirits were high today, would be an understatement. Second semester of the third year needs to be given some (or maybe all the) credits.

Finally she can pick a course where there wouldn’t be a need to see the goddamn face of Potter.

Yeah, yeah, whatever.

“Lupin, honestly, just throw me a class where he won’t be there.”

The grey-haired man sighed, nuzzling his face in his palms. Shaking his head at the girl in front of him, he titled the screen of his computer towards her. “Psychology might go well with chemistry… you got biology too?”

Y/n looked at her advisor beady eyed. “...yeah.”

“Alright. That’s all,” the sound of the button resonated throughout the room as Lupin sat back in anticipation.

“Psychology it is,” she typed furiously in her phone, and judging by the smile on her face, Lupin knew it had to be Weasley on the other side. “Ginny’s in the course too?”

“Yeah, all your friends are, on the side note, this class meets thrice a week- alternate days- Monday, Wednesday and Friday. You can check the timings with Professor McGonagall.”

Doing a little dance mentally, she braced up her sling bag, and cooing a ‘thanks, have a great day’, she skipped towards the dorms.

Was she anticipating psychology because it would be fun? ...maybe

Was she anticipating it because he won’t be there? ...definitely yes!

“Before we enter the hell hole of the second semester,” Y/n giggled at her red-haired friend, as she fell back on the bean bag beside Hermione, “we need to have fun!”

Pansy sent a look to Y/n which read like ‘have they drunk their ass off?’ to which she only passed another look.

First semester wasn’t that bad; Y/n had excelling scores in her courses except the fact that he got almost the same in all the classes they shared.

The only class she seemed to like in his presence was chemistry. Oh, before you ask the reason, they had Professor Snape.

Pretty self-explanatory.

“Look, look, look,” Hermione ticked her fingers in suspicion, “if only Ginny and I would be honest, it wouldn’t be worth it…”

Pansy clicked her tongue in disgust while Luna drifted into the kitchen to help the tipsy Ginny.

“Just for tonight,” Y/n pulled the raven-haired girl beside her, who was still shooting glares at Granger for the stunt she was pulling in. “I’m happy for today.”

“Because you snogged that high rated guy?” The Weasley cackled from the counter, earning a light smack from the blonde. “What do they call him…? Potter!”

Y/n rolled her eyes as she drifted to open the windows, the first reason being, he would get disturbed.

Yeah, don’t judge this girl by her mind.

“I heard he took psychology this semester.”

‘He toOK WHAT?”

“Psychology?” Pansy answered bluntly as she swigged the glass Ginny held out for her.

“Fuck this semester too.”

The bushy-haired girl sniggered from the corner, “I thought you would be happy, it’s the first time in three years that we get the same course.”

“Yeah, but that scar faced Potter? He’s a pain in ass!”

“I beg to differ,” Ginny snorted in amusement, “he’s...how Pansy describes...nice, hot guy…”

“I didn’t!” Pansy retorted as she emptied her glass. “He’s polite though, I never get why you two don’t get together?”

“Oh, I got this,” Y/n leaned forward, earning pretended serious looks from the group. “Back in our first year, we were both running for the same associated student positions, and wow, suddenly we were rivals!”

This met with several ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from the group.

“On the second note, he gets almost the same marks as me, yeah wait for it, Ginny, that roasts me to level 50. And last semester when Hermione had borrowed his contraband hotspot and managed to set it on fire? Yeah, he framed me for it!”

“I don’t know…” Hermione shrugged at her. “He’s a nice friend of mine-”

“Yeah, but I got framed for it!”

“They need to spend a night together to sort this aggression out,” Luna chirped, which met the hums of all and an eye roll from Y/n.

“Really? What is it, really? A high school?”

“Sounds like a hyped enemies to lover trope!”

➶ ｡˚ °*. * ·

“Before we start with this semester,” Y/n struggled to listen intently, all thanks to the Potter slanders she blabbered the whole night, “I advise you all not to waste your precious time in fighting me. This course of psychology is meant as a-”

The door opened with a ‘wham’ and Y/n didn’t even need to turn around and look towards the door of the lecture hall.

Oh, definitely, it had to be Potter.

She heard a small chuckle from Pansy, who, judging by the smirk on her face, was definitely planning.

“Yes?” Y/n puckered her brows at her. “What is it?”

“Nothing much,” the girl shrugged, “I’m planning on asking Ginny out-”

“What! Really? Why didn’t you tell this sooner?”

“Okay? Wait there. I just thought-”

“As I was saying, before Mr. Potter decided to politely intrude on us,” McGonagall started again, her fingers drumming the surface of the heap of colorful blinders, “The course is meant much as a project rather than lectures. Project as a team of two. By the end of the month, I’d be pleased to let you know that the groups have already been made. Yes, Ms. Weasley, don’t latch on to Granger. If you decide to turn revolutionary, I don’t care.”

Y/n sighed from the last row of the aisles. There wouldn’t be a way she could have been paired with Potter?

“Professor Lupin is on his way, and he will assign you your partners. To avoid plagiarism of ideas, every group will have a different topic.”

To Y/n’s utter dismay all her friends were paired up with each other and as Lupin moved to her at the end, she had already sworn to drop this course.

Of course, it had to be Potter, it had to be Lupin’s doing, for God’s sake!

“It’s Potter?”

“Oh! So our little girl has got smarter,” Professor Lupin grinned as he nodded. “Alright, you can move next to him.”

Y/n poked her head from behind the Professor to find the same uninterested, verdant eyes glaring at her.

Smirking, she pointed to the vacant seat beside her. To Lupin’s utter displeasure, he copied her actions. There was no way their kiddish rivalry would end.

For fifteen minutes, the seat poking game continued. At last, the Professor had to sign in.

“Children, children, you both are twenty one. I can use my authority over you both, but what small children say, let’s compromise?”

“Can’t she just walk to the front of the hall and end this stuff?” The raven-haired boy shot, pointing to the front aisle.

“And you? Too scared to come to the back?”

The whole class of twenty-nine pairs of students along with a pair of professors ogled in interest.

“I call in for compromise!” Lupin chimed in. “It will be a shame if Professor McGonagall handles twenty-nine pairs of students alone and I keep on struggling with one.”

Y/n brushed off the bubbling urge to jump at Potter and strangle him as she followed Lupin to a row exactly in the middle of theirs.

Potter greeted her with a scoff and she replied with another.

“Alright, time for the topic, I’ve five topics for you both to choose from- the twist is you don’t get to see the topic.” He picked up five different blinders and placed them in front of the two explosive students. “Choose a color.”

“Blue-”

“Green-”

“I said blue!”

“Green, Professor, I choose green!”

“I came to the class first,” Y/n squinted in rage as she turned to her assigned partner. “I have the right to choose!”

“I got to know that you will stick to my throat for this semester first. It’s my right-”

The adult inhaled deeply for another hell ride. “Are you both in your terrible-twos, honestly? One of you just suck up your pride and compromise.”

“Fine,” the green-eyed boy huffed after a silent battle of five minutes. “Blue it is.”

Y/n simpered in little victory as she grinned at the Professor. But as she opened the flap of the blinder, her heart latched into the stomach.

“Attraction and Love?”

“Oh, that’s a nice topic!” The Professor winked at them before retreating to the podium.

“Don’t look at me like I knew the fucking topic.”

“That’s why I’m better- I chose green.”

She ignored his ‘self love at it’s best’ rants as she opened her laptop. “Like I was going to choose that fucking color you chose.”

➶ ｡˚ °*. * ·

“What about the time you both actually talked?” Luna tilted her head in curiosity. “Has it ever happened?”

“Why are you all wasting my Sundays over that Potter?” Y/n groaned as she tapped an extremely rude message to him over fixing a better time for discussing the bloody project.

“Come on… loosen up!” Hermione whined as she flapped through her Greek mythology books. “Having an upper hand on Ginny is fun.”

Y/n gave her a look which read, ‘honestly? I’m no book!’

“That was...well, that was back in the first year too. The time when we were choosing our student organizations. You remember that day when he walked into me? That very day!”

“Yeah…” the bushy-haired girl yawned. “I’ve to admit, he looked super cute that day.”

“Hermione,” Y/n warned as she typed yet another rude message, “he’s your best friend.”

“I know but I’m just complimenting! His blue eyes looked so charming!”

“Excuse me?” Y/n looked at her in disbelief. “He’s got green eyes.”

“And I thought you said you never look at him!” Hermione howled as she poured herself a glass of water.

“Hermione, that’s gross.”

“Alright, what about Attraction and Love?”

Luna and Hermione chuckled as Y/n walked out of the room, the laptop tucked under her arm.

“Open the damn door!” The girl shouted as she continued slamming the door. “Potter, I swear, if you don’t, I’ll do something even I don’t know.”

On the other hand, there was a tense silence inside. As Draco and Ron watched the raven-haired boy pacing in the kitchen at the ever increasing pace of banging. “Can’t any one of you just tell her I don’t exist?”

Ron shook his head and motioned towards the door.

What bloody nice friends he has got.

Slowly, he opened the creaking door, just enough to get a glimpse of her face.

“Oh? Are you standing in front of my door?” He smiled at her. “Let me just politely slam the door on your face.”

“Don’t you dare!” She stuck her foot between the door, still scared that he is Potter, and he knows no restraint of rudeness when it comes to her. So to be honest, there were ninety nine percent chances he would still close the door on her foot.

No matter how out of luck she is when it comes to him, he did not close the door.

Oh God, just bless him a little.

“As much as I hate sharing this semester with you, I just wanted to inform you that I’ve already started.”

“So have I,” he huffed and walked inside, leaving her no option but to follow.

“What are you on? Page two?”

“Not exactly. I’m on twenty.”

“You are not.”

“Oh, you bet, I’m.”

Alright, maybe coming here wasn’t the nicest plan.

➶ ｡˚ °*. * ·

With two weeks into the project, Y/n was shaking in disapproval that more than half of the class had already completed their project on their respective topics, but whenever they met together, there seemed no way out to even write an extra page.

Sentences were slashed out due to lack of a comma, a foreign word as ‘adolescence’ and what not.

Y/n definitely had the murderous urge to throw his goddamn specs, shut the laptop and just walk away.

If Lupin ended up pairing them together, oh lord, then Lupin sucks.

And right now, as she climbed the stairs for the chemistry class, seeing Potter was the last straw on her hat.

As soon as their glares met (if it would have been a movie, some window must have shattered with the intensity of their glare), they both started racing up the five flights of stairs, three steps a time, apparently due to some reason even they didn't know.

“I’m telling you, just stop! Don’t follow me!”

“Follow? You?” He seethed back. “Maybe you should stop! Just stop running!”

No matter what happened in those five minutes, they didn’t stop unless they were standing (more like slouching) in front of the chemistry class, panting heavily and trying to avoid the amused looks of their classmates.

“Yes?” Y/n mentally groaned at the flick of black robes as Professor Snape stood in front of them. “You both are late.”

So there were no surprises when they both sat at the back of the class, not to mention, together.

“You know?” Y/n tried to ignore him whispering beside her as she continued to vigorously pen down the notes. “I’ve the keys to the roof of the Chem building...and you look like you need somewhere to-” Her eyes dilated as she slammed her hand onto his mouth, nearly knocking him off his chair.

“Honestly, shut up. Or I'll leave your goddamn chair and you bloody fall down.”

And again they were interrupted by the Professor’s glare and a smooth remark of ‘Get out the class.’

➶ ｡˚ °*. * ·

“Your friends are suing my friends over their good looks-”

“No, please wait,” Y/n held up her free hand, the other still latching onto the door. “ It’s more like your friends are suing my friends over their good looks, and wow, I didn’t know I had to be stuck up with you tonight for completing that shit, well...hello there.”

This time, she eyed him intently, the black sweats did make him look good. Ignoring the weird palpitations that were going straight into her brain, she closed the door behind him.

“Don’t risk sitting here. We can do it in my bedroom?”

“And why’s that?”

“Drunk Hermione and Ginny are dangerous.”

So that was it.

As she sat on the corner of her bed, politely leaving him the other corner of the room (where he had to sit on the floor), furious typing followed, with occasional comments on the sentence structure.

“Your headphones are really loud!” Y/n shouted at him. “Like I can make out Mendes’ lyrics and I’m legit sitting across the fucking room!”

He looked at her oddly. Was it true they were loud? Should he lower them?

But on the second thought, he decided, fuck her.

After five minutes of silence, he gasped unexpectedly, garnering her attention.

“What?”

“You work for the campus radio station, don’t you?”

“Yeah-”

“And you are the one who passively and aggressively keeps dedicating songs to me!”

“That’s not true!”

“Wait-” he scrunched his nose at her bashful expression. “Is that a smile?”

He smiled as he heard her walk away with a small shout of “if you tell anyone about this, I’m fucking killing you!”

➶ ｡˚ °*. * ·

Just an hour before they were supposed to be submitting the file, yet, all thanks to their sudden literary genius brains, every sentence had become a battlefield.

“That’s wrong.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“Just telling.”

As a notification flashed over his screen, he deleted another full paragraph of her, because hey, she deleted his sentence.

“No, no, no!” She kicked him on the shin as he simpered. “You fucking cheat!”

“Oh really?” She saw him leaning intensely on the table, and decided to grab that so-called intimidating position. “You cheated first!”

“No, seriously, I want to bloody throw this laptop on your face, but I decided that you aren’t worth it.”

As she moved back, breathing heavily, he followed, his glare prominent over her. And then, it all clicked him.

“You are a genius, aren’t you? So tell me, Y/n L/n, what have you even known about attraction.”

“Oh, Newton, I have got this,” she clicked her finger challengingly. “When attracted to someone, your eyes dilate. Psychology says that bodies sweat more and move in sync, due to mirroring habits people have when they are high on endorphins. Dopamine levels rise as well as serotonin. Dopamine helps regulate movement, attention, learning, and emotional responses. It also enables us not only to see rewards but to take action to move toward them. Since dopamine contributes to feelings of pleasure and satisfaction as part of the reward system. It also plays a part in addiction. Serotonin in the brain is thought to regulate anxiety, happiness, and mood. The more you have the better your mood. It was also seen that the putamen and the insula light up on an MRI. Indicating that the studied person is experiencing feelings of romantic love, or attraction.”

She ended triumphantly, totally out of breath. “Oh wait, did I add holding deep gazes and increased body temperature? Yeah, fucking take it.”

Potter just smirked in response, and of course, seeing this weird retortment, Y/n couldn’t help but wipe her temple of a stray drop of sweat.

What he wanted, honestly?

“Do you notice? I think the bloody hell not.”

“Notice what?”

“Your eyes are dilated- every fucking time you argue with me. You did sweat, don’t think I don’t see what you do, and your body moves in sync for whatever reasons you stated. And oh, wait” he mimicked the last part as he shut the laptop, leaning extremely close to her. “Have you never held deep gazes with me? So let me know, Y/n L/n, do you really hate me or has this been attraction this whole time?”

For the next two minutes, everything remained still. As his hot breath continued fanning over her, she squeezed her eyes shut.

Was she an absolute tosser this whole time?

The whole world felt like shattering at their feet as she captured his lips in a kiss. He groaned, pushing her into the wall, as her teeth dug into his lips.

Maybe, it had been attraction this whole time.

By the time his lips attacked her neck for the second time, her eyes had snapped open, pushing him back.

“Fucking hell, Harry, the project!”

“Alright, everyone in their places!” Lupin chimed behind McGonagall who strolled to collect the projects. Everyone seemed to be in their seats, except- oh, the pain in ass pair.

Idly walking, he reached the last row and stood near Ginny.

“Where are those two? Didn't kill each other for sure?”

Ginny looked up with a small laugh. “No, but you might want to sit down to listen. Five minutes before the class started, Harry picked up Y/n and ran out of the campus- no, Y/n was kissing him.”

To Ginny’s utter astonishment, Lupin had swooned there.

#harry potter x fem!reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfic #harry potter college!au #college!au #harry potter imagines #golden trio #golden trio era #harry potter #harry potter blurb #harrypotter #harry potter x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter oneshot #harry potter x you #harry potter imagine

150 notes · View notes

palbabor-writes · 4 years

Text

Adhesion

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT/18+ only, unbalanced/unhealthy relationships, TA/student dynamics, tw.mild drug use, tw.bribery, tw.recording without consent, tw.dubcon, brat taming, fingering, cucking

Words: 8,915

You can feel his gaze; can tell he’s watching you from hooded eyelids and you do your best to resist his pull, not wanting to be drawn in by that eerie blue of his eyes. It’s not that you don’t like his eyes; no, if anything, you like them a little too much. They’re a beautiful shade of shifting cerulean and possibly the only positive thing about the man.

“You sound upset, babe,” he taunts, taking another drag on his silver vape.

“I’ve told you a hundred times, don’t call me that. And me? Upset? You’re a real Sherlock, you know? What fucking gave that away? Oh, maybe the fact that I pay this university good money for these classes and I could actually use some support. But what do I get instead? A lazy TA who can’t be bothered to do anything more than the bare minimum. It’s a goddamn miracle I’m passing, and it’s certainly no thanks to you,” you snarl, twisting back to your work, ignoring the sound of his chair, gliding ever closer.

Notes: i bribed @libiraki and this fic is my part of the bargain. you heard it here folks, full stop, i am trash.

this story falls under the University AU that i’m working on: Licentia Docendi - the first fic is Practicum & is all about Professor Shigaraki. For Adhesion, Dabi is a TA: Teacher’s Assistant in a college chemistry class.

my reward for completing this is User 433 by libiraki. go read it, it’s killer & i’m so fucking pleased my nefarious deeds have paid off.

Adhesion ad·he·sion /ədˈhēZH(ə)n/ noun the molecular force of attraction in the area of contact between two unlike bodies that acts to hold them together

What time did he say this was supposed to start at? There’s no way you’re late. Did he tell you the wrong room number? You paw into your low slung backpack and wiggle out the [Teacher’s Assistant (TA) handout for Organic Chemistry II]. Nope, you’re not in the wrong room, so it looks like he’s the one who’s late.

Not too surprising, judging from his appearance.

You’d only caught a glimpse of him that morning. He’d sauntered to the front of class when the professor had finished with the preliminaries of the syllabus and introduced the lanky man with inky black hair and some of the scruffiest clothes you’d ever seen, as nothing other than, DABI. No last name, no other credentials, just a simple, ah, here’s the TA for this class; he’ll give you a handout on meeting times and be sure to follow his lead with the labs. This Dabi fellow hadn’t even grunted out a hello. He’d merely waited, hands tucked firmly into his jacket pockets, and dropped down from the raised platform once the professor finished his brief introduction.

You tend to avoid the TA sessions. They’re usually just reviews and endless reminders on the readings, and study prep has never been a weak spot for you, but this semester is different. You’re a junior and you’ve got to push through six classes this term if you want to graduate on time. You haven’t slacked off, haven’t taken less than a full course load. No, it’s just bad luck that they only offered organic chemistry during the Fall term this year.

Thanks to the addition of Organic Chemistry, now all of your classes are heavy sciences. Ick. Well, it’s the price you’ll have to pay for your pharmaceutical degree. It’s not that you don’t like the classes. Honestly, they’re fascinating, chock full of information and techniques that you love to dive into. Nah, it’s not the material of the classes themselves, but the course load and labs that’ll be your downfall if you don’t keep pace.

So, here you are, waiting in an empty room in the library’s basement for the errant TA of organic chemistry to show. You’re a little shocked that no one else has come to this session. Maybe they’ll try for the other times, or they might be under the blissful impression that they can score the ‘A’ with no outside help. Who knows?

You’re twiddling with your phone and debating leaving when the study hall door opens. His dark hair is the first thing you notice. It gleams in the bright light of the fluorescents, and you’re distracted by the sheen. It’s almost a little too black.

It’s not that it doesn’t fit him. If anything, it makes the angled features of his face and neck stand out and draws your eyes to his pale patches of skin. They’re patches because his collarbone and lower neckline are wrapped with spiraling whorls of tattoos; they’re everywhere. How had you missed that? Was his jacket zipped up when he stood in front of the class?

“What’s up?” he calls out, tilting his chin at your wide eyes. He pauses beside the table you’re sitting at and regards you frankly. His eyes are half hidden by his fringed mop of hair, but you can see that they’re a vibrant blue. It’s a haunting color, almost otherworldly. You don’t particularly like the coldness that’s reflected at you, so you focus on the rest of his face instead. He’s got a few nostril piercings, three little studs that shine out when he wrinkles his nose at your bewildered expression.

“You hard of hearing or something?” Dabi scolds, crossing his arms and glaring down at you. You shake your head and loosen your heavy tongue, finally pulling your gaze away from him.

“I-I’m here for the TA session.”

“No fucking way!” he mocks, a barked laugh escaping his quirked lips. “Alright captain obvious, let’s get you set up so I can go about my day. Sign this and I’ll give you the power point slides for this week.”

He yanks his backpack forward and tosses a few mismatched papers your way. One is so badly crumpled you have to iron it out with your arm, ignoring the slight stick that clings to one side. Ah, it’s a sign-up sheet. But, hang on, isn’t he supposed to poll the class on these meeting times? He can’t just pick the times himself, can he? You’ve never seen that before. What’s going on?

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to ask which time works best for us before you set the schedule?” you question, sliding the paper back to him.

His long fingers catch the sheet before it can tumble off of the narrow table and he gives you a wolfish smirk. “Ah, you’re gonna be one of those,” he grumbles, pulling back one chair and flopping into it, splaying his long legs out in front of him.

“Tch, what do you mean by, ‘one of those?’ I’m not some green freshman, I’ve been to TA meetings before. You ask us for the times.”

“Hmph, okay. Let’s put it this way then, you’re here now, right?”

“Yeah. I–”

“So it’s fair for me to assume that you can make this time?”

“I can today, but what if it’s a one-time thing? What if I have another class or a job?”

“Do you?” his voice drops as he lingers on that ultimate word, lacing his fingers together and leaning forward, blue eyes watching you closely.

“N-no, I don’t personally have any objections to this time. But what if others–”

“Others?” he scoffs. “I’m sorry, do you see anyone else in here? We’ve been talking, what, five minutes? And I was, eh, almost fifteen minutes late? That sound right? Hate to say it, but I think it’s just gonna be me and you babe.”

“Ew. Don’t call me that! It’s (F/N)(L/N). Gross, who does that? Babe? You don’t even know me,” you sputter, leaning away from his hunched gaze, earning yourself another clipped chuckle.

“Ooh, so sensitive! Alright, miss. “I’m not a freshman,” if there are no more objections from the peanut gallery, go ahead and sign this so I can conclude this session. Don’t particularly like chatting with you either, since you’re taking years off my life with these pointless questions.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a dick,” you bristle, crossing your arms and glowering down at the crinkled sign-up sheet that Dabi’s pushed back toward you.

“Damn, we’re already talking about my dick! I usually reserve that kinda thing for the third week, but I’ll let it slide. Now, be a good little girl and sign that paper for me.”

A month in this whole TA arrangement hasn’t gotten any easier.

Half of the time Dabi doesn’t even show up, opting to text you the notes and study guides, waving you off with some vague excuse, or promise to make it up next time. The days he appears for the session, he’s always late and glumly sits beside you in the vacant study hall, tinkering with his phone and doing his best to avoid any kind of work.

But today? Today takes the cake.

He’s got his booted feet on the table and is taking quiet hits on his vape pen, exhaling long breaths of clear steam into the study hall. “Dabi,” you hiss across the room, aghast at his cavalier attitude. “You’re not supposed to smoke in here! Wait. Oh, my god! Is that weed?”

“Shhh, Jesus. Keep your voice down, mom,” Dabi sneers, puffing a wisp of smoke your way. “Why don’t you try focusing on your work, huh? You’ve got twelve more molecules to stabilize and your functional groups are a mess; you don’t have time to worry about me. Come on, chop, chop. I’ve got places to be.”

“Ugh. Places to be. What a load of bullshit. You know what? I wonder what might help me speed things up? Oh! I know! What if you did your job instead of getting stoned out of your mind?”

Dabi swivels around in his rolling chair, lowering his legs from the table and cocking a dark eyebrow at you. He’s foregone his tattered jacket today, and the sleeves of tattoos that lace up the chorded muscles of his arms are on full display. He’s done that on purpose, the bastard; likely noticed that you like to stare at them, your eyes engrossed by the shadings and designs. Not your fault you like some of the artwork. You’re not looking at him, not admiring any kind of twist or pull of his forearms. Not thinking about how nice they look when he wears a low cut shirt, or rolls up his sleeves. Nope, you promise yourself, careful to keep your eyes down and on your notes, it’s not that.

“You sound upset, babe,” he taunts, taking another drag on his silver vape.

“Such a fucking sour puss. I bet you’d look a lot prettier if you’d wipe that scowl off your face every once in a while. Lemme see what you’ve got,” Dabi snorts, sauntering out of his chair and bending over your work.

His tattooed arm braces itself beside your shoulder and the exposed skin brushes against you, making you unconsciously scoot awkwardly to one side.

“Don’t get so close,” you chastise, doing your best to ignore the pull of his cologne. It’s got a hint of patchouli and oranges, and it mixes so well with the cloying sweetness of his lingering vape smoke that it makes your head swim.

What’s he doing? This… well, it’s not like him. He never “checks” your answers, he usually just tells you to submit it to his email and he’ll get back to you later, which he never does. You don’t like this. Nope, not one fucking bit.

He takes his time studying your work, one long finger etching its way across your scribblings. His skin is warm; almost too warm. The heat of it against your clothed side makes you shiver and you duck your head at your unbidden reaction, balling your hands into fists and scrunching them against your tense thighs.

When he finally replies, he dips his head close to your ear, keeping his voice low and steady. “Not bad, (L/N). Nice to see you have some capacity for development after all.”

“What the hell does that mean?” you huff, whipping your head to his.

Oh, that’s right; he’s close.

The lazy smirk he gives you stretch his lips over his teeth and his eyes fall to a half mast as he leans closer, ghosting his breath over your face. “It means, you did a good job, babe. I’m impressed.”

You must be gaping at him; there’s no way that you’re not, but you can’t fucking think, not when he’s so close. If he wanted to, he could close that gap and he’d be against you. His lips look nice from here, smooth and pink, and you suddenly have a wild urge to see what he tastes like. Heart pounding, you feel yourself tilting your chin upwards, your lips parted, tongue dancing across the open plushness, dampening them, waiting, hoping that he’ll just…

“Practice your Lewis structures. Some of those compounds look fucking ridiculous,” Dabi replies, pushing himself off of the table and peering down at you, eyes gleaming with poorly concealed mirth. “But, you’re on the right track. Finish this shit up. Gotta go.”

“W-what?” you sputter, trying to quiet your pounding heart and steady yourself, upended by his short-lived…seduction? What exactly was that?

“Already told you, got some place to be. Send me the screenshots, if you wanna’, but I’m prolly’ not gonna look at them until after the weekend. Well, see ya’ around, (L/N).” And, with a last wave, he snatches up his backpack and saunters out the double doors, leaving you alone.

“So what are you thinking? Just go up to the dean’s office and ask to file a report against him?” your boyfriend questions, his voice hazy and distant through the filter of your earbuds. You’d called him a few minutes ago, once you had a good signal and filled him in on, well, most of the details.

After Dabi left, you’d gathered up your things and paced the floors of the library, debating your next move. He’s not doing his job. That much is a fucking given. You’d even talked with a few of the other students in your class the other day and they all said the same thing: He’s lazy and he can’t be bothered to help. Apparently, you’re the only student who had one on one sessions with him, but the group meetups sound worse. They told you he usually just opened the textbook and asked them to copy down definitions, and those were the days when he showed up for the meetings.

“Yeah, and today he really outdid himself. The jerk basically… well… he’s not doing his job,” you flounder at the omission of Dabi coming onto you. If you’re honest with yourself, he hadn’t really done much, and you’d been the one who was surging forward, suddenly tempted by his closeness, his scent, and those rippling sets of tattoos and bright blue eyes. No. Stop it. It’s the last straw, you remind yourself, shaking your head and refocusing on the familiar tone of your boyfriend’s voice.

“I’m sick of it. Midterms are coming, and I’m not about to let him hold the fate of my GPA in his stupid hands.”

“Go get em,’ love! You’re totally right, you’ve worked so hard and you shouldn’t have to put up with some middle-aged asshole’s antics. It’s been a crazy week for you, so dinner’s on me tonight. Wherever you wanna’ go, name the place and I’ll make sure we get a smile back on your face!”

That… that’s so like your boyfriend. He’s always so sweet and caring. Always looking out for you, ready to pick you back up and dust you off each time you feel you’ve fallen short. He’s perfect. He’s all you want, all you need… right?

Goddamn it, you think after you hang up your phone and hop on the elevator that will whisk you up to the dean’s offices, you’d almost kissed your TA. Here’s your boyfriend, being the most supportive and loving thing in the entire world and all you can think about is how fucking good Dabi’s cologne had smelt has he leaned over you. Some partner you are.

The dean’s office is emptier than you expected. There’s a single secretary, who is sitting behind a low desk, twirling a dark lock of hair and skimming over the pages of a magazine. She looks up when you clear your throat and a practiced smile lifts her lips.

“Hey there! How can I help you?”

“I uh, need to file a complaint against someone in the College of Sciences,” you explain, dropping your heavy backpack from your shoulders and scratching at the back of your head balefully. You’re likely not the first one to file a grievance against the Dabi, so why are you suddenly bothered by the idea? It’s not going to get better. Just remember all the shitty, half-baked sessions he’s made you sit through (Y/N) and get this over with.

“Oh! I’m sorry to hear that! Let me grab you the registry of TA’s and adjunct professors,” the secretary chirps, pushing her rolling chair across the wooden floors to snatch at a heavy binder on a shelf.

“I can, um, just tell you his name. If that makes it any easier,” you quietly reply, one foot tapping agitatedly against the other. What is this uneasy feeling that keeps zinging through your mind? It’s going to be an anonymous complaint. It’s not like he’ll ever see it. He likely won’t even know it’s you. Some of the other students had discussed the idea. He could think it’s one of them, not you.

“No, no,” the secretary replies, sliding the binder across the glass counter of the desk. “It’s no trouble at all! Just search for their name and fill out all the particulars on the university system. Doing our best to reduce waste! Gotta keep that paper trail down! We’ve got a little kiosk outside, close to the elevators. It’ll help you with all the details, just click on the form and it will file it into our online system. The dean’s office closes in fifteen minutes, so be sure to bring the binder back as soon as you’re done!”

“Uh, ok,” you mumble, hefting the thick book into your hands. “Do you want me to take it with me, or just look it up here?”

“You can take it out there! It’s sorted by department, for ease of use, so it shouldn’t take you long to find them.”

Great.

You lug the binder to one of the many empty tables outside the sliding doors of the office. Slipping your backpack into a vacant chair, you flip through the lists and sections. Chemistry, chemistry… ah! Okay, you’re in the right section. Now to find Dabi, should be easy enough.

Yeah, no. There’s no one in here listed as “Dabi.” What the hell is this? Some kind of elaborate scheme? Is he just a random student who’s fronting as a TA? It would explain some of his general disinterest, but he knows more about molecular chemistry than anyone you’ve ever met, and that skill isn’t exactly a common parlor trick.

Oh? My secret talent? Well, I can tell you about isotopic labeling and the exact timing of the reaction speeds! Wanna hear more?

No. No one does. Plus, the professor had introduced him to the class on the first day. He knew him and Dabi’s not exactly inconspicuous. There’s gotta be something you’re missing.

You close the heavy book and make your way back into the office, fingernails tapping out a disjointed pattern against the plastic of the binder. “Hey, um, sorry to bother,” you begin, tilting your head and biting your lip at the secretary’s beaming face.

“No bother! Did you find them? Everything work okay in the system?”

“No. I, uh, couldn’t find their name? He said his name was Dabi, never gave us a last name so, um, that’s all I have to go on,” you explain, placing the binder back on her desk and praying she’ll give you some kind of explanation.

“Ooh! Dabi! Sorry about that, he’s a special case, since he goes by his nickname. He’s under the adjunct section. I believe his last name is Todoroki,” she twists the book toward herself and flips through the pages at an alarming rate, eyes skimming over the names.

“Here he is! Touya Todoroki! They don’t put nicknames, or preferred names, since it’s an official listing. He’s a brilliant man and one of our brightest junior professors. I know the university is hoping to snap him up this coming semester, get him on track for a tenured position.

He’s a little unconventional, but he’s a super nice guy and… oh! Wait a minute, you wanted to file a complaint against him, right? I’m so sorry, here I am, running my mouth! You want a pen and paper? So you can jot his university number and info down? Lets me keep the book in here. Four minutes to closing after all, might as well save you the trip back.” She whips out the procured sheet of blank printer paper and a university stamped pen, holding them both toward you, a friendly smile still crinkling her eyes.

“Thanks,” you sigh, a little bewildered by her chatter. From the sound of it, Dabi’s got some university backing and is a ‘nice guy’. Coulda’ fooled you. Doesn’t matter, you think, crossing the t’s of his first and last name; he’s likely just skimming by on the promise of tenure, and the sooner the school knows about his lackadaisical attitude, the better.

You’re typing in Todoroki, Touya when the secretary closes up the office of the dean, flicking off the lights and waving a goodbye to your tensed expression. A few minutes later, the elevator swallows her up and the only sound that fills the empty space is the clacking of the keys as you finish typing out your complaint.

Alright. Got most of the minor points out of the way.

Inattentive to the lessons, frequent absences, missing materials, smoking in the library; you’ll leave out the mention of weed, it’s not like you can claim innocence on that charge yourself and you’re not looking to have the guy arrested, just stripped of his TA status. You could mention the near kiss, but it feels too vague, and it’s not like he made a move on you. No, all that shifting forward rests squarely on your own shoulders. Damn it, stop thinking about that! You’ve got a boyfriend, someone who loves you, who’s going to take you to dinner! Hit complete and get the fuck outta’ here, before someone–

“Whatcha’ doing?”

His voice makes you jump half a foot into the air, your right knee contacting the protruding keyboard of the university kiosk. “Fuck,” you hiss, twisting around and hunching over at the bright spots of pain that flash across your vision as you rub your fingers over the hurt. The soft footfalls of his approach snap you out of your dazed reverie and your head snaps up, eyes widening at the sight of him.

He’s got a loose fitting white shirt on and you can see the coiling of his tattooed muscles under the thin fabric. His chin is lowered and his eyes are distant pinpricks of blue flame in the low lights. Booted feet take a few more steps toward you, but he pauses beside the table that your backpack is sitting on, hands sliding into his dark jeans, waiting for your response. You gulp back your nerves and lift your eyes to his, hoping some of your ire and defiance will shine through. “I’m putting something into the system,” you reply, your voice holding steady as you re-straighten your spine.

“Can see that,” he counters, head tilting, dark hair falling to one side of his soft jawline. “Why are you doing it up here? This is the College of Science’s dean’s office. Most people don’t come up here to adjust their university login. So let me ask you again, whatcha’ doing, Ms. (L/N)?”

“Filing a complaint,” you snap, fingers curling into tight fists, shoulders rising and fall with your quickening breaths. That’s right, asshole, and it’s a complaint about you. How do you like that? Not much you can do about… about it now…. oh, shit. Fuck.

You haven’t hit the enter key.

The fucking e-document is just sitting there, unattended and completely vulnerable. He might not have seen that you haven’t sent it through and if you could just step a few feet to the right, then you can slip one finger against the keypad and hit that all important “enter.”

You look up at him again, praying he won’t notice you scooting your shoes backwards, doing your best to keep him wholly focused on your face. “What did you expect?” you taunt, eyes narrowed, arms wrapping around your back, fingers unconsciously stretching out, feeling for the lift of the keyboard. “You’ve been shit. Midterms are in a week and half of the class says you’re not showing up for their sessions. Don’t look so shocked. This can’t possibly be your first run in with something like this? No wonder you go by that silly name, Dabi. What’s the matter? Upset that I know your actual name now?”

As you ramble on, his face has dropped all pretense of blank civility and now his entire body is hunching forward, shoulders curving, hands pulling free of his pockets and coiling outward, reaching, palms tilted upward.

“So much fucking talk (Y/N). Looks to me like you forgot that last step. Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing,” he begins, a wicked grin twisting across his lips, not quite reaching the glare of his narrowed eyes. “Ah, babe. Why you gotta be this way? Make you a deal, huh? Walk away now and I’ll forget the whole thing. No repercussions, no questions asked. Never even saw you up here, scout’s honor.”

The keyboard is close; you can hear the hum of the monitor, buzzing as it holds the screen with your complaint against Touya Todoroki steady, waiting for your inspection, for that final command. Dabi is close, his looming form heavy against your wide eyes, but it’s now or never. You’ve got to turn around, got to let the predatory lumber of your ill-appointed TA slip from your mind, you have to do this. It doesn’t matter what kinda promises he’ll make to you. That changes nothing, absolutely nothing.

Now! Do it now!

You whirl around, hands shaking as they search for the right keystrokes, the right submission link. It feels like minutes have passed, not seconds. Even though you’ve pressed all the buttons and heard the computer chime, a sent message alert into the sudden, reverberating silence, you can’t take your eyes off the burning gleam of the screen. Not until that thank you pops up.

He’s still behind you. You can hear his boots as they click across the wood. His movements have slowed, but he’s still advancing. It’s too late for you Dabi, you think, watching as the submission page fades to a pleasing orange, the school mascot waving a large “Thanks!” as it dances, close to the bottom of the page. You did it! There’s nothing he can do. Nothing that–

His powerful arm drapes across your stiffened shoulders, his wrist popped beside your face, fingers dangling lazily into the open air. “Ahhh,” he sighs, leaning over you, resting his head beside yours. You half turn your face to see him, aghast that he’s so close again, that he’s touching you, holding you in place with his weight. His muscled side presses against your back, leaning heavily into you as he gives you a rakish smirk. “Well, looks like we get to do this the hard way.”

“What the fuck? The hard way? What does–hey! HEY!” He’s stepped away from you, and that arm that was braced over your shoulders shifts to the back of your neck, ramming your face down into the keyboard, mashing out a random string of commands. Your nose stings from the impact and your eyes wince shut, protecting themselves from the threat of the black letters.

“Warned you about sending that,” he replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. He’s stroking a hand down your head, tangling his long fingers in your hair, pulling at the strands until you’re groaning in pain. “Now we have to do this another way. Gotta even the score, don’t we? Need to make sure you’ve got some kinda blemish on your record, too! I know that secretary filled you in on my upcoming tenure. No way she didn’t. She’s a fucking leaky faucet and I know you had to ask her about my name to fill out that complaint. No, no. We gotta fix this, babe.”

His voice has dropped into a terrifying lower octave, his words sharp, barbed, lancing into your mind like a showering of sticks and stones. He fucking sounds like he’s seconds away from losing his goddamn mind. The hand that’s wrapped around your hair is tugging against you in earnest, jerking your neck away from the threat of the keyboard, forcing you to look up at his leering face. The pupils of his eyes are blown, the black eating away at the shine of the blue until there’s almost nothing left. His teeth are bared in a grimace and his cheeks are pinched, making the silver of his piercings stand out against his flushed skin.

You do your best to gasp out another set of questions, but he’s yanking you back, holding you against his broad chest and wrapping those ink sleeved arms around you. They coil over your stomach and across your breasts, digging into the globes and heaving them under his forearms. His lips are tracing over your arched neck, teeth nipping against your bared pulse.

“You always smell so good, babe. What are you wearing? Hmm?”

“W-what… get off me! You sick fuck! Why are you… ow… damn,” you whimper as he sucks a bruise into your skin, gnawing and pulling until you’re writhing in his arms. You keep attempting to slip away, to shift your feet forward, but that mouth of his won’t let up. Each time you shake yourself free from those quick pants and hums he’s dashing across your neckline, he moves to another spot, or his hands cup and squeeze at your heaving chest and shivering waist, distracting you.

“Mmm, this is unexpected. Looks like you just might enjoy what’s about to happen,” Dabi teases, licking a wet line under your jaw. “Come on, let’s go somewhere a little more private, shall we?”

You exhale a shuddering breath and remain perfectly still, hoping your feigned submission will lull him. Thankfully, it works. He chuckles and spits something out about being a ‘good girl,’ but when he moves back, his arms unlacing from you, you stumble forward, one heel raised, cracking down over his booted feet with as much force as you can muster.

Dabi hisses out a string of low curses, his body coiling over itself protectively. You do your best to squirm out of his grasp, but one of his broad hands reaches out for you, snatching at your leg and forcing you back to him. The sudden shift jolts you off your feet and you tumble to the wood, your palms skinning against the uneven surface.

“Stop it!” you shout, kicking your feet, trying to dislodge his iron grip.

“Kick me again and I’ll knock you out,” Dabi threatens, lowering himself to your level and jerking you underneath him, trapping you, bracing his knees on either side of your hips.

“Fuck you,” you screech out, bucking upwards, trying to dislodge his weight.

“That’s the idea,” he croons, long fingers curling under your clenched chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you and stop acting like you don’t want me. You were practically salivating for me this afternoon. I bet you’re already wet. Let’s find out, hmmm?”

His other hand drifts to the clasp of your jeans, flicking past the barrier of your button and dipping his hand into your pants. His touch lingers around the elastic band of your panties, yanking and teasing at the seam as he works your zipper down. Unconsciously, your traitorous hips roll under him and he gives you a sharp grin, blue eyes blazing. “There you go, babe, just relax. Don’t worry, I’ll make it good for you,” he whispers, his voice catching as his touch slips downward, tapping across your curls and snagging against your slippery folds. “Maybe… ahhh… look at that,” he moans, a satisfied grin lifting those tempting lips of his.

His middle finger brushes between your quivering flesh, gathering droplets of your arousal onto his finger pad. You choke back a staggered breath and your head flops weightlessly against the floor as you arch pitifully into his hand. One of his nails digs into your clit and faint stars pulse over your eyes. “S-stop it,” you stutter, unable to control the shiver that echoes up your spine.

“Tch,” Dabi scorns, adding the pressure of another finger. “Figures,” he continues, his mouth dropping into a pleased smile as you writhe under him. “I thought you liked being difficult. You’re so fucking cute when you’re mad, you know? So what happened to all that vigor, (Y/N)? Not gonna struggle anymore? I’m disappointed, I was hoping you’d keep it up.”

“You’re disgusting,” you snap, your fingers lifting from your side, grabbing the loose collar of his shirt and jerking him to your waiting lips. You can feel the lift of his grin, but he allows the caress, sharp nose digging into your upper cheek. This is wrong. So fucking wrong. But, if you have to endure it, it’s only fair you get a little bit of enjoyment out of this sick power play, so you nip at his lower lip, giving him soft presses and sharper pulls. Dabi, for all of his earlier barbs of prowess, is a bit taken aback by your sudden interest, his hands cupping at the back of your head, urging you on each time you maneuver away from his open-mouthed kisses.

“You want to fuck me here? Right in front of the elevator?” you question breathlessly, fingers coiling into his dark hair, carding through the rough strands until he’s groaning above you.

“Nah,” he pants, pulling away from your lips and leaning back. His fingers are still working their way against you, but it’s not enough friction and you wriggle under him, slipping him from your clit. “The fuck are you doing, babe? You gonna try and make a break for it again?” he laughs, pulling his hand from your pants and licking at the faint sweetness that you’ve left for him.

“Why bother?” you reply, twisting your neck, your head dragging over the grains of the flooring. “You’re just going to catch me. I don’t know my way around this part of the building, so even if I got away, you’d only find me and I don’t really like being tossed around. Not good for me, you know? Why do you care? I thought you said you were gonna fuck me?”

“Oh, I am,” he assures you, one hand snagging under your chin, forcing your eyes to lock onto his. “Just wanted to know what changed.”

“Nothing,” you barb, tugging your chin free and fixing him with a pointed stare. “This whole thing means nothing. I’ve got a boyfriend, and he’s buying me dinner tonight, so, just get through this and I’m free to go, right?”

“A boyfriend,” Dabi muses, knees tightening around your hips. “Should we call him? I’d hate to think how he’d feel about all this. Knowing that his girl is letting her TA take advantage of her this way.”

“Hmph,” you snort, arms bracing under you, pushing yourself upward, doing your utmost to level this shitty playing field he’s laid out for you. “Like you give a shit.”

“You’re right,” he affirms, hands snatching under your arms and pulling you out from under him. “I couldn’t care less.”

His office is small.

You keep a sharp eye on the door, watching to see if he locks it. Fingers crossed, he’ll get himself off and that’ll be the end of this. But that tone he’d shifted into, when he’d told you that you’d need to fix this, to erase the complaint, to walk it back, that made your spine tingle and skin prickle. There’s something else, something he’s not telling you, he’s a smart guy, there’s no way it’s this simple. He’s paced behind his desk, fiddling with something in one drawer, his eyes lifting to observe you each time you shift on the couch he’d gestured for you to sit on.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice a dull monotone. You don’t care, you remind yourself, hands wrapping around your stomach. No matter how good he looks, or how skilled his fingers are, you don’t care (Y/N) and it’s pathetic that you have to keep reminding yourself of that.

“Just making sure everything is ready,” he answers, eyes flicking over you. “Take off your pants and shirt, but leave your bra and panties on.”

“Huh?” you question, shoulders tensing as you glare up at him. “Why?”

“Does it matter?” he responds, closing his desk drawer and stepping back to you, kicking his boots and socks off as he gets closer.

“I-I guess not, but I don’t understand why you–”

“Don’t worry, I’ll explain it all when I’m finished,” he reassures you, kneeling on the floor and propping an elbow against his tattered couch. “You can make a show of taking your clothes off, I won’t mind.”

“You’re revolting,” you snarl, curling your fingers over the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric up.

“Mmm,” Dabi agrees, one palm rising to run over your exposed skin. “Whatever you say.”

“Ugh,” you grunt, popping your hips up and yanking your jeans down your long legs, not wanting to give him too much of a viewing as you pull them along your calves and onto the floor.

“Cute,” he murmurs, one finger racing along the lace of your panties, curving around your hip and onto the soft skin of your ass. “Oooh, did you wear these just for me?” he asks, cupping a broad hand under your soft skin and tugging it into his palm. “Love a girl in a thong,” he murmurs, fingers pressing and lifting into the plush flesh.

“Stop it,” you groan, lifting your hips up, depriving him of his lecherous grip. “I’d never do anything for you.”

“Always such a stuck up little thing, let’s see if I can’t change your mind,” Dabi laughs, pushing you back and splaying you against the haggard cushions. His long fingers hook under the band of your thong and steadily work it over the curve of your hips and down the line of your calves. Instinctually, you clamp your thighs together, rubbing against the ache that’s budding between your clenched legs.

“Come on,” Dabi encourages you, slapping his hand against your round thigh, smoothing his palm over the redness that he’s left behind. “Open up babe, let me see you.”

“Don’t, ah—” you bite out, leaning away from his ravenous gaze and bracing yourself on your elbows as Dabi leers over the sight you’ve been forced to open for him. He glances up at you for a single moment, the blue of his eyes ensnaring your attention and leaving you gaping against the cushions. Seconds later, he’s diving between your spread thighs, his curious tongue lapping over the exposed folds of your cunt.

He slows his licks as he passes by your clit, pausing against the bud before wrapping his lips around the nub, sucking a swift rhythm over you. Your feet rise from the floor to brace against his broad shoulders and you coil your hips upward, urging him on, your head falling into the swath of pillows that rest under your neck. Tense fingers wrench into the cushions and you give a soft gasp, your lips stumbling over his name.

“What was that?” Dabi asks, lifting his head from your curls, lips wet with your slick, his blue eyes watching the contours of your face.

“Fuck you. I-I know… I know you heard me… D-Dabi,” you moan, hissing when he brings a digit against the quivering ring of your entrance.

“Dabi, huh?” he ponders, letting the edge of his fingernail tease over you. “Don’t know if I like that. I think I’d much rather hear you screaming out my name, my real name.”

“What?” you question, popping your head up and giving him a blank stare.

“You remember,” he grins, poking out his tongue and dragging it over you, smiling as you buck under his hands. “Come on,” he taunts, sucking at your clit again. “I know you know it. Go on, say it for me.”

“Wha-what’s wrong with Dabi?” you smart, bracing your feet against the couch and forcing him to insert his wavering finger, digging it forward until it hits the second knuckle.

“Nothing, I just wanna’ hear how the other name sounds. I want to know what it’s like when you’re choking on it, barely able to gasp it out cus’ I’m making you feel so good. Come on, (Y/N), indulge me, huh?”

“Fine,” you huff, legs trembling as he shoves another finger into you, curling them upward, poking and prodding until you’re squirming. “Keep going. Make me cum all over your mouth, Touya.”

“Oh, fuck,” Dabi hisses, his teeth catching over your clit. “That sounds real nice, baby.”

His lips seal over you again and he drags another finger into you, stretching you until you feel you’re close to bursting. It’s a low ache he’s working up, but you love the burn. It’s not like your boyfriend can’t do this, but you’ve never worked up the courage to ask. How do you even go about that? Hey, I want you to pin me down and… no. That doesn’t matter, you remind yourself; fingers sinking into Dabi’s black hair, pulling him closer. You just need to get him off and get the hell outta’ here. Don’t think about it. Just relax and get this over with.

“You need more, don’t you?” Dabi questions, tilting his head and cracking one cerulean eye open, watching as you writhe and cant under his skillful hands.

“I-I just need…” your voice fails you as he resumes that suction, tugging your engorged clit between his sharp teeth and giving you a few rapid fire nips. “Al-almost, just… keep… oh fuck…” you sigh, thighs tensing around his dark head. His fingers speed up that sinful drag and he wriggles them forward with each push, tapping and stroking over the spongy patch of nerves within your cunt.

Then, right when you’re breaths away from a mind blowing release, he yanks his fingers from your sopping pussy, laughing as you pant and whine for him. “Ahhh, come on babe,” he sneers. “Why would I reward you when you’ve been such a fucking pain?”

You openly gape at him, your eyes blinking back dots of frustration and distant flashes of lingering starlight arousal. “What the fuck,” you pant, shifting away from his slicked lips and crossing your legs. “Wh-what what was that for?”

Dabi pushes himself onto his haunches, licking the last traces of you off of his fingers before digging his hand into his jean pocket. He returns with a small remote and waggles it in front of your aghast expression. “Got all I needed,” he informs you, flicking it toward a bookcase. You swiftly whip your head to the shelves and spy the tiny camcorder resting above the topmost set of books.

“You fucking ASS,” you screech, hands reaching for the dangling remote, not caring that your sopping pussy and half naked breasts are on full display. Dabi hovers the remote above the two of you, cracking that all too familiar grin over his thin lips.

“So, about that complaint,” he taunts, scoffing at your desperation, leaning on his heels to watch you scramble up from the frayed pillows of his couch.

“Y-you, why… I… give me that! You can’t record me without my permission!”

“Awe, babe,” Dabi barks, his laugh echoing around the small space. “Too bad for you, huh? I don’t need two party consent.”

“That’s for phone calls,” you bite out, finally snagging his wrist, yanking him toward you.

“Who said the video was on?”

“You fucking jackass! That’s why you wanted me to say your name!”

“Calm down, I won’t release it if you walk back the complaint,” Dabi counters, letting you pull him closer, his lips teasingly reaching for yours. You dodge his touch and fix him with a pointed glower, nose wrinkling and brow furrowing.

“This sounds like a well oiled routine,” you accuse, dropping your hold on him and crossing your arms over your exposed stomach.

“Tch, you jealous?” Dabi sneers, cupping both of his hands under your bent elbows, forcing you to lean into his hold. You shake your head at his accusation and grit your teeth, tilting your face away from his seeking touch.

“What are you going to do about this part? Where I’m yelling about what a son of a bitch you are?”

“Edit it out,” Dabi informs you, lips latching onto the hollow of your throat, teeth worrying your tender skin between their grasp. “Again, if you walk back the accusation, all of this goes away.”

“What if…” you pause, biting your lower lip and shrugging Dabi off of you. He leans away, bright eyes studying your face, pausing at the dip of your lips, following the pink indentations that your teeth leave behind. “What if I wanna’ fuck you?”

“Oh?” Dabi hums, nose flaring, making those three tiny piercings gleam under the low light of the moon that’s streaming through his window. “Now you wanna’ fuck me? You sure about that? Not that I blame you, I’m pretty good, pretty big, too.”

“Ugh, don’t say shit like that,” you reply, lifting a shaking hand to his neck, tracing your fingertips over the indentations of his tattoos.

“Hmm,” he groans, already leaning into your touch, his skin prickling under the gentle strokes of your fingers. “One condition. I get to record it. This time with the video on.”

“Fine,” you confirm, coiling your hands into his inky hair. “Never know, you might want it for later.”

“For what?” Dabi asks, yanking himself away from your intoxicating strokes to jerk his white shirt over his head. You shake your head at his question, not wanting to think about the ramifications of this situation, distracting yourself with the new patterns and whorls of dark ink that are bared to you. He twists back to the camcorder, hitting a few buttons before tossing his remote across the room, the plastic clattering over the wood.

You can just make out the outline of wisps of blue flames beside his ribs when he kicks his pants and boxers down, finally lowering the curtain on the dip of his hipbones, displaying his straining length to your ravenous gaze. He’s covered in piercings. A silver Prince Albert is gleaming at his tip, catching the drips and bubbles of pre-cum that are hovering against his slit. His cock curls proudly toward his stomach when he releases it from the thin protection of his boxers and you catch sight of the Jacob’s ladder that climbs up his impressive girth. Unconsciously, you gulp in a swift breath and shake your head, not wanting to show him your wavering uncertainty.

He’ll undoubtedly be the biggest cock you’ve ever taken, and you’re not sure that he’s stretched you out properly. He’d paused too soon and you can still feel the shuddering echoes of your faint brush with release travel up your spine as you gape at him. It’s not enough… it’s not…

“What?” Dabi questions, one black brow arched. “Worried I’m too big for you?”

You’re about to respond when he shoves you down and maneuvers you sideways, stretching you along the cushions, his hand a steady pressure against your windpipe, choking out any reservations that threaten to escape your lips. He’s on top of you seconds later, the sheer weight of him pinning you under him, and you let out a whine when he spreads your legs, popping the brittle muscles of your hips in his rush.

“I’ll make you like it,” he promises, looming over you, his lips tracing up your neck as his hands dig under your back, unfastening your bra and stripping you of your final defense. “You’ve got a nice rack, babe,” Dabi praises, lowering himself, ghosting over your peaked nipples, tongue lapping out to dip over the puffy areola.

“Stop saying shit like that, I might think you mean it,” you snarl, throat catching on your gasps of strained pleasure. He sucks one stiffened peak between his lips and suckles, hard. The pressure makes your back bow off the cushions, fingers reaching for him, clawing and scratching your way down the muscled plains of his back.

“Mmm,” Dabi groans, popping his lips free from the distraction of your nipples. “Do that again, but put some effort behind it.”

Well, why let him down now? You dig your nails into him, yanking until you feel his skin part under you, splitting from the drag of your touch. “Fuck, yes,” he grunts, his hips jerking into you, blindly seeking your entrance. “I’m gonna fuck you,” Dabi warns, teeth biting the hollow of your neck. “I’m gonna fuck you until all you can say is my name.”

He blindly reaches for your hips, two fingers searching for your cunt. Once he finds it, he grasps the swollen length of his cock, jerking himself a few times, splashing his hot pre-cum against your inner thighs. There’s no warning, no call for preparation, or a quick kiss, instead there’s just the heady press of his hips and the weight of his length as it splits you in two. Your neck arches off of the cushions and your hips fall away, shying from the keening sting that he’s thrusting into you. A low hiss slips from your lips and your toes curl, legs unconsciously wrapping around his thin waist, heels digging into the soft dip of his back.

“F-fuck,” Dabi chokes out, hands bracing themselves over the swell of your hips. “You’re fucking tight, babe. Goddamn it.”

“Dabi,” you moan, curling upwards, praying he’ll give you a few more seconds, positive you’ll shake yourself to bits if he tries to move now. Your hand finally lifts from his back and makes its way toward the crest of your thighs, desperate to tweak and roll your pulsing clit. Once you’re inches away, one of Dabi’s hands unlatches from your waist and snatches your seeking fingers away. “Don’t you dare,” he warns, lips rising to suck against the lines of your neck. “Only if I tell you,” he continues, warm tongue dipping and licking over your ear. “Understand?”

You nod, still reeling from the steady stretch of his cock as he tugs it out of your sopping cunt. It pricks and bites and your heels do their best to restrict his movements, pinning themselves to his lower back and grinding down. He ignores your hints and starts a steady push and pull within you, the rungs of his piercings catching on the edge of your leaking pussy. Each thrust snags against a piece of you that sends a scattering of sparks and stars over your vision and you coil yourself forward every time he yanks back, anticipating that ignition, that ache, as he braces himself to slip into you again.

“How the fuck are you still so tight?” he complains, hands jerking your chin upward, demanding that you kiss him. The bittersweet sting of pain is still too close for you to get into his caress, so he soon gives up, finally settling the pad of his calloused thumb over your clit. “Is this what you need?” he asks, hips lancing into yours, picking up the pace of his ruts. You nod as your teeth chatter, a thin slip of drool escaping your parted lips. Dabi grins at your overwrought expression and his tongue laps at the traces of saliva, nose pressing into your skin, his hisses of exhaled air hot against your cheek.

“You’re getting real tight (Y/N). Wanna cum? You wanna’ cum on my dick?” he asks, his voice shaking with effort, trying to ignore the insistent envelopment of your slick cunt. “Hey, come on, answer me!”

His deep pitch of exasperation snaps you out of your stupor and you fix your hazy attention on him, closing your swollen lips and giving him a cruel smile. “I don’t think you’ve done enough,” you taunt, a laugh bubbling from your throat. “Looks like you’re gonna cum first. Turns out you’re not as impressive as you think, huh, Touya?”

He’d usually ignore you, keep pressing and teasing until you’re putty in his hands, but it feels too good. It’s too much. Your fucking cunt feels like heaven and he can’t help himself, thrusting and pounding into you like he’s fucking fifteen again, all hormones and no finesse. There’s nothing he can do to stop himself, it’s too good, it’s just too fucking good.

With a half-formed groan he spills into you, his cock pulsing and swelling, hands bracing themselves against the swell of your hips, lifting you to him until those dots leave his vision. “Fuck. Fuck, that was… you were… God. That felt so fucking good.”

You sprawl under him, your eyes languidly meeting his as you crack a sly grin. “Ahhh, Touya, like I said, you were so close. Too bad. Thought you’d last a little longer. Haha! Maybe next time, hmmm?”

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @evesmores

notes: editing always takes me so long :((((

#dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #university au #bnha dark fic #tw: violence #TW: cucking #tw: dubcon #tw: drugs #tw: bribery #tw: teacher/student #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: recording #libiraki #my own personal fic exchange #well bribery #bnha smut

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bukojuiice · 4 years

Text

rose-colored boy

ೃ pairing: (eren jaeger x fem! reader)

ೃ tags: college/modern au, fluff, humor, love at first sight cliché, mikasa is your cute little sister, armin, sasha, jean, and connie are your besties, and eren is a himbo who works hard and has terrible friends.

ೃ warnings: strong language and mild suggestive content

ೃ part 1/??? of my (eren x reader) college au!

ೃ word count: 3000 words

ೃ my nav → my mha writing masterlist

ೃ This is my very first snk x reader fic! so i hope you bear with some errors! qwq

i’ve been following the anime ever since it was released in 2013, and this is the first time i’m going to be writing for it. this month’s manga chapter really took me out so why not channel my sadness thru writing an fluff! eren fic? 🤧 i hope you enjoy either way!

ೃ please do reblog if you enjoyed!! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ in which (Y/N) (L/N), 20, still in school, and regretfully-unregretfully-her little girl scout sister's assistant, meets eren jaeger in an embarrassing too innocent door-to-door cookie sale whilst a humiliating party was going on.

cookies, suspicious maybe-maybe-not pot brownies, meddling little sisters and friends, “oh my god they were roommates” vine on replay 24/7, homework, tears, and fairy lights bring them together.

“I’m going to enter now.”

“Ahhh yes, please!”

“Shut up, please.” Eren muttered to himself as he tossed and turned around in his bed, but still couldn’t get to sleep. “When will they ever stop doing this?” Why did Eren’s next-door roommate and his girlfriend have to do this five times a day? They had a lot of stamina for 21-year-olds who didn’t have anything better to do.

Eren’s thoughts eventually brought him to his parents.

His parents- did they even exist?

For pretty much 14 years of Eren’s life, they had been out of town or out of the country. His older brother, Zeke, blonde, bespectacled, tall, and sometimes too far up his own ass older brother who Eren is able to confide in from time to time, recently got a girlfriend whom he’s hopelessly in love with (they’re even thinking about getting married which isn’t really a problem since the girl is genuinely nice to his older brother so Eren is good with her.), so… things in the family had been a bit rough and busy to say the least.

Communication with his parents wasn’t always the best.

Eren would study late at night back when he was seven, because no one bothered to help him with homework. Along with the fact that he wasn’t the brightest kid in class, and he knew that very well, but he had ambition and he was determined to make it big in the world. He focused more on sports, particularly Soccer in middle school and high school, and tried to balance that with his studies. After being granted a Sports Scholarship from Shigashina University, Eren decided to rent and share a flat, living with his batchmates who he met at a mixer party (before Uni started as this whole meet and get to know each other kind of thing) and whom he was so quick to call his ‘friends’, just so that he could get out of the hellhole that was his own house.

But things turned out much worse than expected.

Eren thought that the ‘College Life’ was to focus more on pursuing your future career and make a name for yourself but… it was the other way around.

He thought that after Freshmen year, everyone would take things seriously. Sure, have some drinks, get wasted after finals, or have house parties from time to time. But he was unfortunately, dragged into the wrong crowd. After attending around 5 parties in the first few months of being generalized as one of the infamous and pompous freshman archetypes present in every university, he called it a year and spent the rest of his nights doing homework, projects, playing video games, staying at the school soccer field until 10PM while his roommates were probably smoking crack and not caring about the number of units they needed to take for each of their goddamn subjects.

He was ~living the life~ and now that he regrets most of the decisions he made in freshman year, the only option that he has left was to wait until his third year and move to a different apartment.

Now, here he was, Sophomore year, nearing the end of the semester, and very much eager to get the hell out of here and also study for his upcoming finals on Constitutional Law II, as his professor, Mr. Erwin Smith, was going to throw hands if one of his students score below average on the exam.

“EREN MICK JAEGER! BROOOO!” Eren winces when he hears the shrieky and annoying voice of his flatmate Thomas Wagner, calling out to him. “Wanna go and party with us?” Eren smiles halfheartedly, shaking his head, “Ah, no thanks. I have a game tomorrow and finals coming up on Thursday.” Thomas smirked and wrapped his arm around Eren, “Oh fuck that, live the college life ya spoon.”

“No, really I have to study.”

Thomas frowned and groaned, “Oh god, you’re such a killjoy. Fine, if that’s what you want. Don’t blame us if we tell you to buy some beer down the block.”

Eren cracked an obviously fake laugh and pushed Thomas away from him, “You’re an ass. That only happened once and that was when we first met. Don’t you even dare try to ask me to buy you shit again.”

“Woah. Woah. Woaaaaaah. That was a joke Eren. Loosen up will you?” Thomas raises an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the brunette’s sudden aggressiveness. He hums Moves like Jaeger by Maroon 5 as a way to spite Eren whilst passing by him down the staircase.

The brunette shook his head, tying his hair into a bun carelessly and sprinting into his room without uttering another word.

Eren just wanted to study. He really did.

Instead, his roommates, all of them, mind you, were all partying in the lounge and the music was too loud and Eren was too annoyed.

They did manage to bring him out and make him stay in the kitchen where he mindlessly glared at anyone who came in. He sighed and tapped his pen restlessly amongst the insane amount of books on the table.

There was a knock.

His roommate, Floch, came in the kitchen with his girlfriend who Eren couldn’t even name with all the women he has brought into the apartment. She was hanging onto his arm and giggling. Floch’s eyes were red and his speech very slow and lazy. "Eren!" he said with a sly grin.

Eren raised an eyebrow, shooting him an irritated look. "What now Floch? Are you here to tell me to take a shot again?" The ginger-haired’s girlfriend giggled once again and kissed Floch’s cheek. Floch laughed and swatted her away, though he missed by a long shot. "Someone's at the door," a thumb pointing to the den. "wouldchumind ge'in it?" another giggle. The girl nodded sloshily. "Yesss! Erenieee get 'em door, please. Be a dearrrrr."

Eren frowned and stared at them menacingly, earning no reaction from the two as they were mad drunk. "You were just in the den," Floch’s eyes widened. "My lovey wovey-we was in the den?" His girlfriend’s mouth went into an O. "Di'nt notice tha'!"

Eren sighed and stood up. He miraculously got through the throng of bodies and to the front door. "Yes?" he called out exasperated, not knowing who was outside.

"Do you want cookies?"

Eren turned and looked to see a little raven-haired girl, a girl scout no less, a blonde-haired boy pulling on a trolley who looked significantly shorter than him, wearing rimmed glasses, and an overall appearance whom his “friends” would immediately label as a nerd they had to be a few feet away from if they saw him and lastly, a girl who looked very tired and very done with life.

Beautiful (h/c)-colored hair, her eyes looked like the starry night sky, twinkling as he catches her gaze and a smile that looked forced, but warm all the same.

A girl who was just absolutely fucking gorgeous.

Eren was captivated. His heart was beating like crazy and he could feel his ears turn red. He would make a fool of himself if he looked red as a tomato right now.

"Um," The girl peeked inside and grimaced, squeezing the hand that was her little sister's shoulder and catching Eren’s gaze. "Mikasa, I don't think these kinds of guys would want cookies."

“Unless they're pot cookies,” Eren almost said. Mikasa pouted and widened her eyes at Eren.

The older girl crouched down and frantically covered her little sister’s eyes. "Nopenopenope, Mi, don't pull that on him."

"But (Y/N)!"

(Y/N).

Her name was (Y/N).

Eren smiled sincerely (for the first time today) and leaned back inside to the drawer by the door to grab the extra cash he and his roommates put there for emergency pizza and stuff. "You know what? You're absolutely brilliant at selling cookies. I'll take one."

Mikasa smiled back at him cheekily and tugged her older sister’s hand. "See, (Y/N)?! He wants some! Go get 'em!”

The raven-haired girl then turned to the blonde teen, practically jumping up and down. “Armin look! We sold another one!"

“We did!” The boy who was apparently named Armin, clapped his hands together, then gave the little girl a high five. “You’re a natural at this Mikasa!”

(Y/N) looked at Eren, then Mikasa, and sighed. She grabbed a bag from the trolley Armin was dragging around and pulled out a box of cookies. Eren grabbed them slowly from her, their hands almost touching as he gave (Y/N) a small smile. The (h/c) girl blushed lightly, though not visible enough for the brunette to notice.

"Hope to see you again!" Eren called out when the siblings said their thank you's and bid farewell.

And, this time, even for the slightest moment, Eren’s serotonin levels were going straight through the roof. His heart was still beating loudly, almost in sync with the trash music his roommates were blaring on the speakers. and for a moment, even just for a moment.

He felt genuine happiness that he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

The three of you continue to walk animatedly, now that the coast was clear and the guy from earlier wasn’t within earshot, your blonde friend just had to break the silence.

Armin smiles, pushing his glasses up to the crook of his nose. “(Y/N), you did see how he looked at you right?” The blonde chuckles softly, catching his best friend off guard.

You blinked. “Him?” You try to stop yourself from smiling, blushing profusely. “Geez Armin, I don’t even know his name yet.”

“I’ll bet you 100 bucks that he goes to our Uni.”

“Even if he does, it’s not like we’ll talk to him or anything. Judging from the place he lives in and the people he was hanging out with, we’re in two completely different worlds.” You shook your head in denial, holding Mikasa’s hand, your interlocked arms swinging playfully. Armin gives you a knowing look in response.

Mikasa continued to wave back at the boy whom they had just sold cookies too. (Y/N) looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Wasn’t he nice (Y/N)?” Mikasa asks her older sister. (Y/N) returned her sister a small smile, “He was.”

"I hope we see him again!"

"I'm sure we will."

The day of Eren’s dreaded finals finally arrive.

He has prepared tirelessly for this. Hours upon hours of hard work. But, before he finally gets his well-deserved sleep, he has a few more hours to cram and absorb more knowledge for his exams.

So, what better way to do so than head straight to the library as soon as it opens at 6 AM?

This time, no one was going to bother him. No annoying roommates and no distractions.

Eren heads over to a table near the coffee and snack machines. He puts down his bag on a seat next to him, and begins to study once again. Looking through the course materials and the lessons that he still didn’t quite understand. Eren was so absorbed with studying and relying on his gut feeling that no other student in this university would think of going to the library at 6 AM on the day of finals… then he’s wrong. Very wrong.

“Sasha, should you even be eating mashed potato this early in the morning?” Armin asks the brunette worriedly, a huge tone of concern in his voice.

“Armin! Don’t chu worry! I ate heavy breakfast! Bacon, Eggs, and Toast! Did you not see me in the kitchen!?” She reassures her blonde friend, continuing to scoop up the mashed potato on a reusable cup.

“Liar.” Connie hissed, narrowing his eyes. “I was awake since 4 AM. Not once did I see you sneak into the kitchen until (Y/N) woke you up.”

“Atatata. Can we… stop with the negative vibes for a second?” Jean tries to become the mediator by holding his hands up against his two friends who were about to start an argument. “It’s finals week. We have to keep a clear mind, body and soul-“

“Jean, you know that’s BS.” You yawn widely, still practically half-asleep.

“Oh, come on! Can’t you just let me be positive just this once!? If we fail this exam I’m going to blame you!“

The five of you continue to talk mindlessly on the way to the library. Connie pushes the glass door open, very much excited to have this huge library all to yourselves.

Until…

There was someone already there.

Your eyes immediately come into contact with Eren’s. His radiant jade eyes staring into yours, mouth practically agape, his hands holding on to wooden chopsticks as the hot air of instant ramen breezes through his face.

“Oh?” Connie blinks. “Guess we aren’t the first ones here then.” He whistles.

“(Y/N)!” Armin nudges you in the arm in an attempt to tease you. “Guess your wish came true huh? We did see him again! By himself too!”

“W-what am I supposed to do exactly?” You turn to Armin, speaking in a hushed whisper.

“Say thank you to him! Offer him to go on a boba date or something!”

“You got the Sasha seal of approval (Y/N)! He’s hot!” Sasha motions you a thumbs up and you can’t help but feel yourself already wanting to die of embarrassment.

The four of them slightly push you towards his table. With your friends cornering you like this, there was no way of escaping this.

All you had to do was talk to him and properly thank him for buying cookies from your little sister.

That was it.

No need for any extra ad-libs or poor and bad attempts of flirtation.

Just thank him (Y/N).

You can do this.

You breathe a hefty sigh then approach his table with confidence. The brunette continues to look up at you whilst turning the page of his reviewer that he wasn’t even looking at.

“Hi again! I just wanted to thank you properly for helping my sister and I, out the other day. Mikasa really appreciated the gesture you did for her, and she couldn’t stop talking about you to our parents since we saw you. You see, none of the other girl scouts want to be paired up with my sister because they think she’s an emotionless and monotonous freak. They’re really mean to her but she really wants to continue being a girl scout so my friend and I accompany her whenever she has to sell cookies!”

“It’s N-no problem!” Eren quickly replies, running a hand through his hair. “Why would they say such horrible things to your sister like that? Judging from the way she acted in front of me, she was quite the opposite. In a positive way of course! Those kids are just assholes who are intimidated because another girl their age is seemingly better than them.”

You giggle in response. “Thank you. I’ll tell Mikasa that you said that!”

There was short silence for a few seconds until you realized that you forgot to say something.

“Ah! I’m (Y/N) (L/N) by the way!”

“Eren.” He smiles, reaching his hand out to you for you to shake. You grip his strong and calloused hand firmly, and Eren could feel his ears turning red again while you were about to blush as red as a tomato.

You hear your friends snickering in the background and you took this as a sign to go back to your table. “I guess, I’ll see you around campus?” You ask, tilting your head. For, you actually really wanted to see him again after this.

“Yea! I’ll be seeing you!” He grins widely, watching you leave where he was seated. His smile then envelops into a frown as soon as you went away then he goes back to studying.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” Connie whispers loudly, calling you over by waving his hand. Why was this dunce being so painfully obvious? “Ask him if he’s looking for an apartment or if he wants to live with us!”

“Already!?” You ask in disbelief, a bit shocked by what Connie had just said. He scoots to the left, as you take a seat between him and Sasha. “Guys, you’ve known him for like… 3 minutes. Only Armin and I actually interacted with him before this.”

“He has to pass the vibe check first.” Jean shrugs, sipping on an iced expresso. “But, yeah, he does seem alright from a few feet away.”

“Come on (Y/N)! Ask him!” Sasha nods approvingly. “It’s weird that he’s studying alone like this while we’re in another table trying to remain unaware that he looks lonely as hell.”

“UMmMM… maybe he wants to study alone because that’s the only way he can focus? That’s a thing that normal people do, Sasha.” You remark sarcastically, trying to think up of more reasons to not approach him again.

Armin clears his throat, “Look, (Y/N), it won’t hurt to try right? Besides, don’t you feel a tiny bit sorry for him? He does seem lonely and you do have a crush on him so… more ways to interact with him right?”

Your shoulders slump and you breathe a defeated sigh. “Okay okay fine.” You make your way to Eren’s table again but before you do, you turn to your friends. “By the way, I don’t really have a crush on him just yet. I just find him cute okay?”

“Yeah yeah.” They say in unison as you continue to walk back to the brunette’s table.

“Hi again Eren!” You wave and try your best not to fumble or look painfully obvious that you were infatuated by him. He looks up and you try your best not to smile like a weirdo.

“Hm?” He hums.

“Would you like to come over to our table and study with us?”

To be continued.

#shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #eren x you #snk #aot

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crystal-snowing · 4 years

Text

forbidden fruit | lee felix

synopsis: you were told to stay away by your parents and the rest of society, but that was nearly impossible when he just looks so goddamn irresistible.

genre: enemies to lovers!au, gang!au, college!au, angst, fluff

pairing: rich!reader x gangster!felix

word count: 15.9k

warnings: slight violence, explicit language, mentions kidnapping

a/n: i’ve been thinking about writing a longer fic for quite some time now and i think i went a bit overboard on this one, but i hope you guys enjoy in nevertheless ! also special thanks to @crscendoforsung, mwah soro !

one.

If there was one thing that your parents warned you about, it was to stay away from Stray Kids, also known as the most prominent and dangerous gang in the city. This warning was drilled into your head ever since you were a young child, as you were told two things, to stay away from the south side of town and to never associate with known members of this gang. They were two simple rules to follow, and for the past nineteen years of your life, those were two simple rules to follow. And up until last year, you were proud to say that you have never seen or associated with one of those things. But that all changed in your senior year of high school. A new mayor was recently elected to govern the city and insisted on fixing the abnormal disparity between the extremely wealthy and the extremely poor, while this mostly included building new luxury apartment complexes and stores in the less fortunate side of town. However, there was one policy that enraged your parents and the rest of those on the privileged side of town—that the next school year, the mayor was taking eight students from the other side of town and having them enroll in your prestigious school system for the remainder of their educational journey.

No amount of protesting or defiance from your parents or the rest of the community could possibly persuade the mayor to change his mind, and just like that it was done, your entire world would be forever changed.

It was your first semester at college, and on top of that, it was also the first semester of for the new students to be admitted onto your side of town. That day was vividly etched in your memory, your parents helping you pack your bags into the car, hugging you goodbye and giving you a final reminder to not cause any trouble while you’re there. They didn’t need to say it, but you knew that the words were on the tip of their tongue. The essence of that phrase surrounded you and practically swallowed you, it was in the way they squeezed just a little too tightly or the way their gaze lingered on you a little too long as the car finally pulled out of the driveway and you waved goodbye.

This was your promise to them, and the only promise that you needed to keep—no matter the circumstances, you were not allowed to associate or be near any of those gang members.

However, you had to admit that there was some alluring about them. They were the talk of the entire campus, even among the freshmen class, the campus was alive with their arrival. Of course, they stood out from every other student on campus, and when they were walking it was the parting of the Red Sea, every other student making space (either out of fear or shock) to allow them to pass through. Dressed in all black, hoods on and masks covering their entire face except their eyes—they were the epitome of a notorious gang. Even though they passed by you for only a second, they had already piqued your interest, but you had made a promise and you were not willing to let some scum destroy everything that you and your parents have worked so hard for. You were determined and nothing was going to stand in your way, after going through twelve years of schooling and enduring the countless tutors and towers of textbooks, you worked your ass to get to where you are today. And you would be damned if you allowed a few lowlifes to stand in your way, after all, no matter how educated they become they wouldn’t be able to change the fact that they were nothing but garbage from the other side of town—in the end, they would never be able to change who they truly are.

That incident was only a small one in comparison to the many that happened that day. You had almost forgotten to remind yourself that it was also your first day of college as well, and soon the memory of early this morning was soon forgotten in the sea of other memories and experiences that happened the rest of that morning. The orientation was brief, the dean’s speech ending with a round of applause as the entire freshman class was soon released to go to classes and begin to adjust to the campus lifestyle. It was kind of stuffy and crowded inside the auditorium and you were glad that all the boring formalities were over and done with, finally you were able to go to your classes and escape the large mass of people. You stood from the velour red chair and your way outside, where the sunlight and the fresh air felt good against your skin after spending nearly two hours in the dark auditorium.

It was only when you made eye contact with one of them, did your heart really snap out of your dazed state. Your eyes were not fully adjusted to the bright sunlight and for a moment you could have been mistaken about who or what you could have seen, but you soon realized that there was no mistaking the all black clothes that he adorned or his slightly dyed strawberry blond hair. He was standing furthest from the group of three other boys that were also dressed from head-to-toe in the dark color, and while you could have chosen to make eye contact with any of the four boys, he stood out to you the most. And there it was again, this feeling of intrigue—attraction, as he stood less than seven feet away from you.

The two of you couldn’t have been staring at each other for more than a few seconds, when one of his friends slapped on the head, calling out his name and making a joke that you couldn’t really make out from where you were standing. Just like that, the spell was broken and as you glanced at your phone for the time, you realized that you were running late for class. You watched as his friends bid him goodbye before walking off in the opposite direction, and before you could believe that everything that happened in the past few seconds was just a dream, his warm brown eyes once again made eye contact with your own [E/C] eyes. Clearing your throat, you whipped your head around and immediately began walking away from the mysterious boy and towards your first class of the day, the object that was supposed to capture more of your attention compared to this insignificant delinquent. And while it was possible to convince yourself that the awkward encounter that just took place between you and that strawberry blond boy was nothing out of the ordinary, the reddening of your cheeks definitely told a different story.

It had only been a few minutes since you arrived in the lecture hall, while you were not the first one to enter, you certainly weren’t late which was honestly all that mattered to you. Taking out your phone, you decided to scroll through some of your social media pages in order to pass the time, and you were barely a minute into your Instagram feed when you felt a presence sit down next to you. Glancing up from your screen, you were met with a wall of black clothing. Upon a closer inspection, you could see that he was wearing a black leather jacket, a white cotton t-shirt, black jeans, and a black mask covering half of his face. His skin was pale, but had an entire galaxy of freckles that decorated his nose and cheeks, and his eyes were a warm shade of espresso brown.

“Excuse me?”

Sparing you only a glance, he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen, before pulling out one of his airpods before looking at you again, only then did you have his full attention. There was honestly no way to approach this without sounding rude, but you had no other choice, and honestly he happened to be quite fortunate that it was you giving him this lecture instead of other students, who wouldn’t hesitate to rip him to shreds compared to you who was doing your best to try at least be semi-polite and give him some useful advice in order to survive in this new world.

“There are tons of seats in this hall and I was wondering if you could maybe not sit next to me? Considering that we don’t know each other and how much I enjoy my personal space and I would appreciate it if you could maybe move a couple chairs down or maybe a whole another row—” your polite speech was interrupted by his low but hearty laugh, as he removed his face mask to reveal his plump pink lips.

“So let me get this straight, you want me to move my seat since you believe, and I quote, ‘am violating your personal space’?” he paused, cocking one of his eyebrows with a smirk sitting on his lips, “sweetheart, if it bothers you that much, how about you get up and move yourself?”

You were absolutely flabbergasted to say the least, and couldn’t believe that someone like him had the audacity to even suggest something like that to someone like you. His attention had refocused back on the device in front of him, and it was clear that by his demeanor that he wasn’t going to be moving any time soon and you were stuck next to him for the remainder of class. This left you with two options, either move and give him the satisfaction of successfully bullying you into submission or stay exactly where you are and stand your ground against a brat like him. And with a small huff, you released your grip on your bag and the rest of your belongings before crossing your arms and focusing on your phone once again. There was no way in hell were you going to give this asshole the satisfaction of seeing you pissed off, instead you stood your ground and watched as the professor finally stood at the center of the room and quieted the class down in order to begin his introduction.

And for the rest of the class out of the corner of your eyes, you couldn’t help but see that smirk envelop the lips of the boy sitting next to you, the very sight of it making your blood boil and your face flushed. Whoever this boy was you were certain of only one thing, he was nothing but an arrogant prick.

two.

The cafe across the street from your dorm has become one of your favorite places on the entire campus, especially when you needed to study. Not only did they have the best drinks on campus, the pastries were to die for, and every time you walked through the doors you were reminded of that as the sweet smell of cinnamon and sugar filled your nose. Cafe 4419 was never too noisy nor was it ever too quiet, the lo-fi playlist and soft murmur from the patrons made it one of your favorite sanctuaries to stay apart from your dorm.

While it was only a few weeks into college, half of the first semester has already flown by and you were practically swimming in essays, projects and studying for upcoming tests. Which is how you found yourself here, spending almost every waking second at the cafe with your favorite drink by your side and piles of textbooks and papers towered around you. Anybody passing by would have immediately assumed that it was finals season, instead of simply being just an ordinary test during the first semester. But you were serious about your academics and grades, and you were not about to let something ruin your concentration that you had going for you.

This was the one place where you could also find an escape from those people. Everywhere else around campus that you seemed to find yourself, it was only a matter of minutes before you were humbly graced with their presence. They seemed to be everywhere and the only two places on campus where you seemed to be safe from them was your own dorm room and this cafe. In a way it sort of is your sanctuary, one of the few places where you didn’t have to see their depressing black clothing, scowling faces or even hear about their very being. Instead, it was just you, your textbooks, notes, and computer—the way it should be, and you were experiencing nothing but pure bliss.

And that moment was completely shattered, when the screech of the stool across the wooden floors next to you and the slamming of an iced coffee of some sort onto the table.

Glaring up at the perpetrator, you weren’t surprised to be faced with a wall of black clothing, including the infamous leather jacket. As your eyes traveled higher up, you were finally met with a pair of brown eyes and a cocky expression looking down on you. Him. The same boy who had the audacity to sit right next to you during your first lecture, currently has the audacity to interrupt your precious study time. His appearance was practically unchanged since the last time you saw him less than a week ago, his strawberry blond hair was a bit more faded than before but his irises still sparkled with that same mischievous and playful glint.

“Fancy running into you here,” he smirked, moving to sit down next to you. His thigh was quick to press up against your own, as you flinched—moving your leg away as if you were being burned. He didn’t acknowledge your actions, instead his eyes seemed to be locked onto your own, scanning over your facial features as if he was studying and reading your every move and expression.

“What do you want?”

He put his hands in surrender attempting to show you that he means no harm and that he’s not a threat, but with that sparkle in his eyes and that sly expression never leaving his face.

“I know we kind of started off on the wrong foot, but I was hoping that we could fix that” he paused, stretching out his hand, “I’m Lee Felix,” he introduced himself with a wink. It was nice to finally put a name to the face, but in all honesty, you didn’t really give a damn about what his name was or were you curious about what he wanted from you. Apparently, it was too much for you to ask him to leave you alone, either that or he was too dense to get the hint.

“Alright, Felix, as much as I enjoyed resolving that little issue, I’m extremely busy. So, if you wouldn’t mind?”

Shooting him one final glare, you assumed that this was the end of the conversation between the two of you, and all you needed to do was to wait for him to leave and refocus back on the mountains of papers in front of you. However, you were naive to think that this was the end of your conversation, and as far as you could tell with Lee Felix, he always needed to have the last word.

‘You know, my feelings were deeply hurt the day we met, and I think it’s only fair for you to make it up to me,” something in his tone of voice shifted causing you to whip your head in his direction and away from the studyguide in front of you. This should have been a major red flag, a glaring neon sign starring right in front of you, but you would be lying if you didn’t say that he intrigued you. Perhaps it was your upbringing, or maybe it was the incessant warnings about people like him, you weren’t sure—the only thing you knew in that moment, for once in your life, he had your undivided attention. “My grades are kind of slipping and in order to keep this scholarship and stay at this ‘prestigious’ school they need to be a bit higher,” he paused before flashing you a blinding smile, “so I was thinking that you could tutor me and we could really spend some more time getting to know one another,” he finished before ending his proposal with a wink.

You had to give it to him, the dirtbag had guts.

The confidence and ego that seemed to ooze out of him was unbelievable and it was hard to believe that people like him still existed. And just like that, you were once again uninterested in the boy sitting in front of you.

“Is that all? I think you already know my answer to that question, now if you could excuse me,” rolling your eyes, you wave him off with a dismissive flick of your wrist. Of course, you should have expected that this wasn’t all that he had planned, he wasn’t known for being a quitter especially when it came to people like you. The two of you were more similar than either of you cared to realize and unbeknownst to you, Lee Felix was determined not to walk out here without having your number in his back pocket and a promise that you were going to see him again. Instead, he did what he did best—completely disregard what he’s been told and follow his instincts.

“Think about this for a moment, the infamous and obviously talented child of the [L/N] refusing to help a poor and unfortunate boy like me, surely that won’t make a great impression on the professors or even the media once they catch word of this,” he shrugged letting the weight of words sink in. You hated to admit it, but he was right. Your family was powerful, but in exchange for that power, every single thing that you did was scrutinized—your daily lives constantly under the microscope. While it was considerably bad press to be seen around people like him, especially with the amount of warnings that you received from your parents as well as other members in the community, there was no denying that it was perhaps even worse press for you to completely ignore and reject him. “It’s really up to you, princess/prince.”

You had no choice, and he knew it.

“Fine, I’ll tutor you,” you turned away from him for a second to grab a pen before scribbling your phone number on a piece before ripping it off and handing it to him. Before he could take it from your hand, you snatched the piece of paper from out of his reach. “Just letting you know, I’m not doing this for you. Meet me at the library on Friday and make sure you’re not late.”

Grabbing the slip of paper out your hand, and his drink in the other, he stood and made his way towards the door. You couldn’t help but watch him go, a frown present on your face. With a final wink, he was gone and out the door, and you could finally relax and relieve all the tension that was built up in your shoulders. Mentally scolding yourself, you wondered how the hell you even ended up in a situation like this, in a matter of only weeks you managed to break the only promise to your parents and somehow make acquaintances with one of the very people that you swore to hate.

At this point it was useless to try and study, there was no way that you could possibly study after a distraction like that. Gathering your materials, before haphazardly shoving them into your bag, and grabbing your drink and walking out of the cafe door. The weather was transitioning between autumn and winter, the brisk air blew against your face as you walked, your mind replaying everything that happened within the span of a few minutes.

Scoffing to yourself, you shook your head as you made your way back to your dorm. Fine, if Lee Felix wanted to make an enemy out of you, then so be it, and from this day forward you were determined to make his life a living hell.

three.

After sitting in the library for almost half an hour, you were about a millimeter away from losing your shit. As usually the library was pretty quiet and the only noises that could be heard were the faint rustling of papers and the dull hum of the heater. You had threatened him not to be late, and you had even promised him that you would leave if he was even a minute late, but somehow you found yourself sitting at one of the many wooden tables in the gigantic library tapping your pencil impatiently. You should leave, that much was obvious, but there was some part of you that was holding onto hope that he was going to show. Standing up, you scolded yourself for being so foolish, you were smarter than this—you were smarter than him—but somehow you allowed yourself to end up in this situation, again.

“Sorry I’m late, princess/prince, I got caught up with a few things.”

You didn’t even hear him approach, but as you turned around you were met with his figure. It seemed like his entire wardrobe was composed of only dark clothing, his outfit pretty much the same as it was less than four days ago. The only difference was the gold chain that he adorned around his neck, which was a stark contrast compared to his black clothing. He noticed how your eyes seemed to be drawn to the flashy object, before he quickly placed the object underneath his shirt and cleared his throat. However, there was something different about his appearance than before, his hair was a bit messier and tousled than usual, his skin glistened and was a bit more flushed, and there were visible red or pink marks that littered his neck.

Oh.

That realization finally seemed to draw you from your daze, as you stared back at him, your steely [E/C] eyes met his mahogany ones. Under your gaze his eyes seemed to soften a bit and it wasn’t until he saw your arms crossed against your chest did he realize the gravity of his mistake.

“You’re late,” you practically growled, “if you’re not going to take this seriously then fine, I told you not to waste my time and if you’re going to be a piece of—”

Felix’s hard and once impenetrable exterior was suddenly cracked by the fierceness and fire that shone in your eyes, only then did he feel some sort of small pang inside his hair. This was an entirely foreign feeling to him, and even stranger was that you were the one causing him to feel this way. For his entire life he has been dealing with people like you, those that dripped with wealth and decadence, but he knew that there was a hidden evil within them. The facade was only a ploy to distract from the devil inside of them—they were malicious, unforgiving, monsters that from day one have done nothing but persecute people like him. People like him were rendered powerless against the people like them, kicked to the desolate part of town and condemned to live a life of misfortune and suffering. Felix knew exactly what to say that would make your blood boil, that would aggravate you till you wouldn’t be able to stand the mention of his name, he knew exactly what to do to make you despise him even more, and yet his mouth and words failed him.

For once, he didn’t know what to say, so he instead slammed his books down on the table—the sound echoing in the almost silent library. A sound like that was bound to have repercussions, and the glares and disgusted looks you received was enough to force you into submission. You should have just walked out of the door, but going against your better judgement and rationale, you decided to stay. Sitting down, you pulled the textbooks and notebooks from your bag as Felix sat next to you taking out his own materials. Flipping the book to the first page, you pointed at the first problem.

“Let’s start with this problem first and make sure you show all your work,” you gestured to the first of many problems in the workbook, “oh, and if you’re ever late again because of some dick appointment, I’ll make sure that every single person on this campus knows how small that four inch dick of yours really looks like.”

After that, the two of you seemed to fall into a comfortable rhythm. There was minimal talking between the two of you, coming to the mutual agreement that you were only here for one purpose and one purpose only. But, just because he stopped bickering with you for once didn’t necessarily make your job any easier. There wasn’t really any nice way to put it, but he was horrible at everything. It was expected of course, unlike the other students that attended the prestigious JYP University he didn’t need to pass the rigorous entrance exam nor did he need extremely high grades in high school. You had your work cut out for you, but you weren’t one to back down from a challenge. But that didn’t mean that Felix was going to make it easy on you.

While you have tutored other students in the past before, you could safely say that none of them were quite like Lee Felix. Never have you met someone so unmotivated and lazy. He was the one who was practically begged for your help, and now he’s sitting here with his head resting against his arm absentmindedly doodling in the margins of the book.

“Look, if you’re not going to take this seriously then what are we even doing here? You’re just wasting my time and your own,” you huffed, tapping your pen harshly against the workbook to stir the strawberry blond from his thoughts. “At least you could pretend to do the work that I’m assigning you, instead of blatantly ignoring everything I say.”

That grabbed his attention, as he sat up straighter and stretched his arms over his head as he rolled his eyes. “That’s easy for you to say when you’ve had everything handed to you all of your life. I bet you don’t even understand what it’s like to have to work hard for something, princess/prince,” he scoffed. Your head snapped in his direction, his words echoing in your head.

What the fuck did he just say to you?

“You think I’ve had it easy, well newsflash, princess/price, you’re not the only one whose had a hard life. Yes, privilege does exist but don’t you even think for a damn second that I haven’t worked in order to get here to this university. Just because you were admitted on a scholarship and without taking the entrance exam, doesn’t mean that it was the case for everybody,” you huffed as you stood up, causing an abrupt noise as the chair slid against the wooden floors. “My parents used their money to buy their way through life, but there is only so much money can buy. And if you really think that I bought my way into the school, then why did you even ask me to tutor you in the first place?”

Your last outburst received the nastiest glares from the other students around the both of you, and if looks could kill you would have been dead over ten times over. But at the moment you couldn’t care less, this was your final farewell—your final “go-fuck-yourself” to Lee Felix so you could finally be rid of this parasite. With the last slam of your chair, you turned away from the male and made your hasty escape towards the exit of the library.

If you ever saw him again before the year was over, it would be too soon.

four.

This year was probably the year of firsts for Lee Felix, in addition to meeting you he was also beginning to experience these foreign emotions that came along with you. In no way shape or form was he a bully, instead he often had some certain choice words for those that exhibited egotistical and arrogant qualities—and in his defense, they were usually the ones who started it. He was known for his unforgiving nature, after all, there was no way he could live the lifestyle he did without being this way. This feeling of guilt and regret was new for him, in his opinion what he said to you wasn’t even the worst thing to make it past those lips, yet the look of fiery passion and hurt that was written across your features was enough to make him think twice. He felt apologetic, even though he practically spits poison every day to people like you, something about you attracted him, pulled him in and made you different.

That being said, he was horrible at apologizing.

Which was why when you could feel a presence next to you during the next lecture, you didn’t even bat an eyelash. Nor did you even dare to look at him as he slammed something down on your desk, before turning away and mumbling to himself. Upon further inspection, you found a Coke can sitting untouched and unopened with a note taped to the front with two simple words written on it.

I’m sorry.

Rolling your eyes, you glanced to the right where you knew he would be sitting with some of his other friends. They were always the ones making the most noise in the class, treating the lecture as a study hall instead of an opportunity for growth and maturation. You could spot three of them easily, their freshly dyed hair sticking out sorely in the sea of neutral colors. They were too far away for you to tell what they were talking about, but their gleeful expressions and smiles etched on their faces probably meant that they were up to no good. You could spot Felix immediately, he distanced himself from his group of friends. While he still engaged in the conversation, he was passive, his brown eyes dull as his mind seemed to be elsewhere.

This was the first time that you have seen the fire extinguished from his eyes, and he looked so goddamn pitiful. As if he could sense your eyes, his face turned to meet yours, his eyes catching you red-handed. His expression was complex, to say the least. On the one hand, all traces of remorse and regret seemed to disappear completely and was replaced with another emotion that you couldn’t read. Furiously you turned away from him, your cheeks dusted with a pink hue. Thankfully, before he could manage to approach you the professor entered at the front of the room and began the lecture, your thoughts now becoming full of Shakespeare’s prose and the impact of foil characters in Romeo and Juliet, leaving no room to worry about that imbecile.

You had to admit, Lee Felix definitely did have some charms. If he didn’t have something at least, then there would be no reason why you found yourself sitting next to him in this empty lecture hall, the both of you sprawled over notebooks and countless works of Shakespeare at your disposal. You should be mad at him, furious even, he was nothing but a good-for-nothing gangster who had the audacity to insult you—but here you were, crawling back to him. But, even through his shitty apology you somehow found it hard to stay away. He was dangerous, the closest thing that you had to breaking the rules and to give him up would be bringing your life back to normalcy—uneventful, boring and you would be damned if you ever had to give him up and return to life before. As infuriating as he was, he came into your life like a whirlwind and while at times he made your life a living hell, you kind of enjoyed his presence.

Of course you were wary about tutoring him again, but your fear was soon quelled by the fact that his personality seemed to have done a complete flip from the day before. Not only was he attentive, but it just goes to show that if he would just sit down and put his ego in check for a second, then maybe he actually had a chance at succeeding at this school. With his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth nibbling softly on his lower lip as his hand moved quickly across the paper to solve the problem. His hair would continually fall in front of his eyes as he concentrated, and he kept swiping at it every so often. Your hand itches to reach away and brush away those stray locks, but you refrain yourself from doing so, instead opting to pick at your sleeve as you admired his expression.

“It’s getting late,” your voice sounded foreign against the silence, those three words being the first thing you have said to him in the past few hours. “Maybe we should call it a night, and continue next week.” He nodded, prying his eyes away from the rows of words in front of him, helping you gather your materials into one place and pack them into your bag. Wordlessly, you both pushed in your chairs before exiting the lecture hall together.

The walk outside was silent, while the previous argument didn’t necessarily still hang in the air, it’s presence was still made apparent due to the wall of tension between the two of you. The campus was softly being illuminated by the streetlights that littered the property, aided slightly by the moonlight that seemed to cast the entire scenery in a different light. There was something different about the university when the sun went down, while it certainly wasn’t a ghost town (the constant parties on campus made sure of that) it made the campus look almost softer and whimsical in a sense. The ancient buildings that were used as classrooms during the day time had transformed into castles, the streets practically shining when the moonlight sparkled on them and you—you felt as if you could rule it all.

You both stopped in front of a sleek black Harley Davidson, the motorcycle in pristine condition and didn’t have a single scratch on it. There was no denying how expensive this was, and for once it looked as if he actually belonged at this school with a ride like that. You knew this was where the two of you were meant to part ways. For you, it was back to the dormitories—hopefully being able to sneak in before room check and for him, back to his other life, doing whatever misfits like him do best by causing mischief and mayhem in the dead of night.

This was your cue to leave, turn on your heels and rush back to your dorm room, but you couldn’t help but stand there and watch him. Felix looked absolutely ethereal in the moonlight, his tan skin glowing and eyes sparkling—and you were entranced, watching him unclip the helmet from the handlebars of his motorcycle and holding it in his hands There was this unknown tightening in your chest, this foreign hitch in your breath, your hands growing clammy as the seconds continued to pass on.

“Here, put this on. I like to think that I’m a safe driver, but safety first,” his voice calls out to you, before the black helmet was tossed your way. Fumbling with the object for a few seconds, you finally caught it as your brain finished rebooting. As you looked down at the helmet, and back at him you were at a loss of words. “Well, are you coming or not? I don’t have all day, princess/prince.”

His head was cocked to the side, and while his words had a bit of bite to them, his expression is playful. You were supposed to be the rational one in this situation, and the “correct” answer was clearly staring you right in the face. You were old enough to take care of yourself, and you certainly didn’t need a dollar-store version of a knight in shining armor to take you home.

“I can make it back on my own, thanks for the offer—”

It took him two strides in order to make it over to you and a total of ten seconds to get you on the bike. Two seconds in order to yank the helmet out of your hands, three seconds to secure it on your head, three seconds to pull you onto the vehicle behind him and two seconds to wrap your arms loosely around his waist.

“Hold on tight.”

That was the last thing he uttered to you, before he revved the engine and the two of you sped off into the night. At this rate, it was too late to even think about getting off unless you wanted to seriously injure yourself. Instead, you opted for clinging onto his body and pressing yourself flat against his back as you held on for dear life. Immediately, you could feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach the moment the vehicle started, the wind practically making you deaf as the scenery of campus whipped around you in a blur. Yes, you were scared, after all you were riding around on a death trap with a boy that you barely know and who was currently in control of your life. Despite all of these factors, there was something exhilarating about riding with Felix. The feeling of your hair whipping around you, speeding through the empty streets of campus and the faint smell of sandalwood and lemon that emitted from him was intoxicating. And it was safe to say that you were drunk off this feeling.

By the time Felix pulled in front of your dorm room, you were still buzzed and your senses were working over time trying to process everything around you. It wasn’t long before reality washed harshly over you, removing your arms from his toned waist and scrambling off the bike, the helmet still sitting lop-sided on your head. Your whole body was aflame, every place where you made contact with him was burning and your heart was beating painfully loud against your chest.

“Thanks for the ride,” you muttered, clearing your throat, avoiding eye contact with him. He didn’t say anything in return, instead placing the break down on the motorcycle and walking over to you. His fingers brushed against your face as he unclipped the helmet, which sent a new wave of heat to rush to your cheeks, before he took the safety gear off you and tucked it under his arm. If you had blinked, you might have missed the way his eyes flitted over your lips, as he unconsciously licked his lips before turning on his heel and making his way back to his vehicle.

The only evidence that this wasn’t a dream and was real life was the faint smell of gasoline and the roar of a motorcycle in the distance, signalling his departure.

five.

Over the next few weeks, the two of you have met at the university’s cafe between eight and ten times for the purpose of studying. Granted, you both were studying (only because Felix knew you would have his head if he didn’t concentrate) but there was this underlying reason why you both kept coming back. His presence was like a drug, addicting and thrilling, and you couldn’t keep away. Both of you were chasing that high, the overwhelming feeling of euphoria and you were both relentless in reaching your goal. It started that night that he dropped you off at your dorm, and ever since then you’ve been hooked. His lips didn’t even manage to touch yours, and you were quite disappointed at this fact, but you weren’t going to let him go that easily, no if he wanted you to work for it, then so be it. And that’s how you found yourself, practically slaving away over textbooks all for him.

It has become a ritual for the two of you to linger outside of his lecture hall on exam day. He would always pick you up from your dorm that morning and take you to his classroom, where you would both wait until the very last second before leaving his presence. Time with him was precious, it was fleeting and you always wanted to spend just a second longer with him. He looked gorgeous in the sunlight as it tangled itself up in his locks of hair, bouncing off his dewy tan skin before capturing his entire body in its rays. A cup of coffee always in his left hand, while his right held onto a packet of stapled papers, his messy scrawling decorated the pages and there were a few places where your neat handwriting made an appearance as he recited some facts off the sheets.

“So, the whole point of having Fortinbras and just mentioning him in the play is to be a foil character for Hamlet?”

“Sort of, remember Fortinbras was also trying to take over Denmark as revenge for Hamlet murdering his father,” you reminded him, shaking your finger gently in front of his face. There was a teasing expression written on your face, and he returned it with a sneer of his own. You both stopped a couple of feet in front of the entrance of the classroom as he took the stack of papers before smacking his forehead with them, a groan escaping his lips.

“I give up, how about we ditch this exam and instead I’ll treat you to your favorite pastries at that bakery down the block,” he suggested, lifting the papers away from his face and giving you a dazzling smile. On any other person, by this point they would be putty in his hands and he would easily be able to have his way with them. But you knew better, and for the most part you would like to think that you were immune to his charms.

“Are you trying to bribe me, Felix?”

Your eyes narrowed at his choice of words with one eyebrow raised, but a teasing smirk was dancing across your lips. Rolling his eyes in your direction, he placed his hands up as if he was surrendering as a small chuckle escaped his lips.

“Me? I would never!” Sarcasm dripped off every word that he spoke, turning away you as he refocused his attention back on the study guide in front of him as a look of disgust overcame his features. “I want to know, how likely is it that you’ll still associate with me even after I fail this test, because the odds are currently not in my favor.”

There was something about his tone of voice that seemed to throw you off a little bit. Yes, he was still trying to keep the conversation with you as playful as possible, but you could hear the slight undertone of insecurity and doubt in his voice. He was genuinely worried about this test and it showed. It was quite an odd sight to witness, the boy who weeks before didn’t care about anything except annoying the crap out of you was worried about something as mundane as a test.

“Hmm, well if you fail this exam then I’m not sure we can be friends anymore,” you slyly spoke, “you know, I don’t associate myself with losers.”

The word “friends” caused something to bloom inside his chest, a warm feeling spreading throughout his entire body. Honestly, he’s never really thought to put a definition on your relationship, sure the two of you have spent a lot time together the past few weeks to study and cram for this exam, but everything wasn’t exactly business related. There were times during those sessions where you would both chuck erasers and pencils at each other, making fun of each other’s favorite foods and having conversations that were far from the original topic of the works of William Shakespeare. He enjoyed your presence, and liked having you around, and if being your friend meant that he could continue standing by your side then so be it.

“I’m a loser? Says the one who literally spends all their time studying and didn’t know how to let loose until I showed you how—your definition of ‘fun’ was spending four hours isolated at the library reading about the influential aspects of Renaissance paintings in modern art,” Felix countered, thinking back fondly on the memory.

The two of you continued to playfully bicker even after entering the lecture hall, only managing to quiet down as soon as the professor began administering the test. You finished a lot quicker than he did, and you could see his pained expression as he continued to struggle with the assignment for the next hour. The class was silent, students either leaving after the examination was completed or were sitting quietly on their phones waiting for the rest of the class to finish the exam, and with everyone mostly distracted it gave you a good excuse to admire him from afar. His face was contorted with a whole bunch of different emotions running through his features, and while you were considering helping him on at least one problem, it would violate your code of ethics—not to mention that he was a big boy, and you were confident that he could manage by himself.

It was another forty minutes before he finished, standing up with a visible frown on his face as he handed the test back to the professor before making his way back to you. Both of you walked out the classroom side-by-side and in silence, and as you exited the building you began to notice the worry that seemed to have etched itself into his face. Slapping him lightly on the bicep, you brought him out of his stupor and flashed him a smile that seemed to calm his racing heart for now.

“Relax, let’s go to the cafe down the street to get your mind off this test. Remember, I accept bribes in the form of anything that has caffeine or is sugary and sweet,” you suggested, looping your arm with his and tugging him towards the building.

And for about half an hour, that seemed to do the trick. The test was soon forgotten as he watched you devour a cinnamon bun, and drink at least two cups of coffee as you both chatted aimlessly about miscellaneous things. It wasn’t until he was walking you back to your dorm and he heard a ping! from his cellphone did the worrisome thoughts come flooding back in.

“95, huh I knew the professor was going to drop that question,” you shrugged, glancing down at your phone, before pocketing it. As you looked back on his figure, you could see his face fall slightly behind the phone, and you knew this meant bad news. “Come on, it can’t be that bad.”

Felix tugged the phone out of your reach, holding it over his head as you came closer and stood underneath him. The two of you were only a few inches apart, and you could practically hear his heart hammering in his chest, and the warmth from his breath as he towered over you.

“Promise you won’t get mad,” a small but playful pout sat on his lips as he continued to hold the phone out of your reach. Rolling your eyes, you continued to jump and try to reach the phone, but since he was taller than you it was pretty much impossible for you to reach. “Hmm, an 80 isn’t that terrible for studying is it?”

It was back, his signature cocky smirk that repulsed yet attracted you at the same time, flitting across his lips. With your mouth agape, you weren’t sure what you were supposed to be feeling at the moment. All you were aware of was the surge of undistinguishable emotions that flooded your body and before you could even begin to process what was going on, your arms somehow find their way around his waist with your head resting against his chest. His entire body stiffened up at your touch and you could feel his heart racing against your ear, your heart beating at the same speed. Only a few seconds seemed to pass, before you could feel his hands on your body, they were tentative at first, but soon held you with as much strength as you gripped his body.

There it was again, a few seconds late and you would have missed it. Despite the redness in your cheeks and the overwhelming amount of embarrassment that radiated off of you, your eyes glanced up to meet his own, watching as they tentatively flitted over your lips. He seemed unsure of himself, deciding whether he really wanted to follow through with his actions, and in that split second he decided to risk it all, casually leaning in—hoping to close the already short space between your bodies.

They are nothing but worthless nobodies and they will bring you nothing but trouble. Promise me, you’ll stay as far away as possible from them, please.

In an instant, your body untangled itself from his, your breath ragged and your eyes darting everyone except his face. He stood there dumbfounded, he wanted to reach out to you, to ask what he did wrong—was he misinterpreting the signals, imagine the chemistry between the two of you, did he make a mistake? You barely had enough brain power to focus on him as you could feel your heart crumbling inside of your ribcage, your breath coming out in short spurts as you struggled to regain control over the situation at hand. You couldn’t recognize yourself anymore, the person that you have become after attending the university for a few measly months and you have already strayed so far from where you started. But this wasn’t the type of growth that you could be proud of, fraternizing with the enemy, the same enemy that you were warned countless times before to stay away from.

This was wrong—everything was wrong. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, your life wasn’t supposed to come to this point as you stood here as living proof of everything that your parents despised. But, you weren’t that far from salvation. You had been delusional for months, and it was about time that you started making amends. Whatever thing that you had with him was now over, and it was about time that you began living the life that your parents wanted you to have, free from parasites and monstrosities like him.

Muttering some sort of excuse, you backed away from him before taking off back to your dorm, leaving in your wake a bewildered heartbroken (although he would never admit it) Lee Felix in your wake.

six.

You have successfully managed to avoid him for three days, but you knew that was just luck. He knew your schedule like the back of his hand, you have told him a numerous amount of times where you were throughout the day and well, old habits die hard. Honestly, if he really wanted to find you he would have done it already, but he was being a gentleman and giving some personal space to let you calm down before the confrontation happened. You were grateful in a sense, you needed this time to reflect on what an utter disaster you have become. This has gone on for too long, what started off as bringing some joy and excitement to your dull life has spiraled out of control. You lost yourself in the process, fading to the background as this unrecognizable version has taken center stage. What would your parents say if they saw you like this, completely different from the child they raised you to become, fraternizing with the enemy and sympathizing with the same scum they told you to avoid for your entire life.

Regret oozed through your entire being and you wished that you could take back everything that has happened. You should have turned him down that fateful day, rejected him cold-heartedly in the cafe, and let the rumors come about you and your family—the outcome would have probably been better than your current reality. While you couldn’t go back and change the past, you could instead work on mending the future, which is why you thrusted yourself back into your studies at full force. There was no place for distractions where you’re heading, and you assumed it would be easy to surround yourself with other intellectuals that shared your same passion and drive.

This would prove more difficult than you originally assumed. The atmosphere on campus has changed completely, and to put it frankly, you were being avoided like the fucking plague. Every time you walked past a group of students, you could hear the hushed whispers and feel the glares being directed your way. Obviously, they were smart enough not to say their comments loud enough for you to hear or for you to catch them staring, as they looked away as soon as you even turned your head in their direction. Even some of your friends, the same ones that you’ve known perhaps your entire life would even spare a glance in your direction. You could even feel the glares from some of the members of Stray Kids, and while you were not necessarily on speaking terms with them, it didn’t give them an excuse to be rude with you.

You did your best to ignore the lingering looks and comments throughout the day, but as you strolled out of your last class of the day, you couldn’t stand it any longer. In particular, there was a group of girls that you have practically known all of your life, ever since elementary school, who had the audacity to mutter your name and laugh as you walked by—and that was your breaking point. You were usually a patient person and usually weren’t quick to rush to judgement, but this was the last straw. Rolling up your sleeves, you marched up to them with a scowl written across your face..

“If you have a problem with me you should say something to my face instead of talking shit behind my back, you fucking cowards,” you hissed, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you glared at them. Two of the girls mumbled something under their breath, tugging at the sleeves of the main girl in the center. But, she wasn’t intimidated by you, instead she took a step forward till your faces were only a couple inches apart.

“[L/N] [Y/N], long time no see. Where’s that boyfriend of yours, is he off robbing some banks?” her voice was shrill as she hissed out that insult. Her behavior was typical, and while she appeared to act condescending and superior towards you, her true emotions were written as plain as day across her face—she was jealous. It was in the way her rhetorical question had that unnecessary sharpness curled at the end of words or the way the scowl on her face was a little more prominent than it needed to be. In all honesty, you couldn’t blame her. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, Lee Felix was quite an attractive person, but that was all besides the point. He wasn’t yours to begin with and whatever relationship the two of you had was now nonexistent, so it didn’t matter how pretty you find his face.

“He’s not my boyfriend, so if you could kindly back the—” you huffed, readjusting the stack of papers and textbooks in your arms.

“Whatever, look we don’t mean any harm, honestly we’re just worried about you, honey. I mean, you’ve heard the rumors about people like them, they’re dangerous and we’re just worried about you getting in harm's way,” you could see the way the glint in her eyes seemed to return after you confirmed that were in fact not dating Felix. The fake sincerity in her voice was piercing to your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to get rid of her and stop her from prying into your personal life. “Plus, what would you parents say if they see you hanging out with someone like him?”

So that’s what this about, this was the entire underlying reason why, this is why she decided to pick a fight with you. Of course, everything was about power, it always is with someone like her and her family—the Moon family was always power-hungry gremlins. For many years your family has sort of allied itself with the Moons, not by choice, but just because of circumstances. You have known her your entire life, and up until this point you have always known her to be jealous of everything that you had. And now, it was no different, she always wanted what she couldn’t get her hands on, and everything in your life was currently on the menu.It was the typical story, she wanted to use him for what she did best, flirting with danger—like your parents, hers would practically disown her if they found out she was fooling around with someone with low status like him, but the thrill and the temptation was too great to pass up. It was all for the thrill, and some desire was too strong.

Oh did you have some choice words for her, but it seemed like your voice failed you felt a warm hand envelop your wrist. Whipping around you were once again met with an eyeful of black clothing that obscured your vision. The heat radiating off of him was almost suffocating, and you struggled to catch your breath around him. With a final glare in the direction of the trio, he tugged your wrist and your body followed as he dragged you away from the trio of girls. The two of you rounded the corner to one of the Biology lecture halls, before you finally grasped control of yourself and shook off his hold from your body.

You were your own independent person meaning that you could definitely handle yourself, and definitely didn’t need someone like him to save you. There was an unreadable expression written across his features, as you cradled your burning wrist to your chest. Neither of you dared to speak a word, the awkward silence was deafening, both of your eyes were diverted towards the ground distracted by the concrete sidewalks. You needed to get out of there, as far away as you could manage and while you didn’t want to be the one to break the silence, you knew it was necessary unless you wanted to prolong your time spent in his presence.

“Thanks for you know, everything that you did back there, but I was handling things on my own.”

You still couldn’t look him in the eyes, knowing that you would break if that ever happened. Instead, you opted to look straight ahead, finding some interesting looking trees that stood out behind him. His scoff startled you slightly, causing you to quickly look at his face before diverting your eyes once more.

“Whatever you say, princess/prince. I’m sure you could have managed just fine on your own,” he rolled his eyes. That statement that ignited a fire within you, your face flushed and your palms growing sweaty as you balled them up into fists.

“What do you mean by that?” you hissed, in an instant your eyes locked with his own—and your expression immediately softened. His demeanor also seemed to soften under your gaze, and he hesitantly approached your figure, till only a couple of inches stood between the two of you. But, you weren’t going to let him get away with it that easily. As you attempted to take a step back, his hand grabbed your wrist suddenly, stopping your body from moving away from him any further. “Hey, look, I’m serious, I’m not some damsel in distress that constantly needs saving. I can take care of myself and I don’t need you constantly babysitting me, like I’m some child because I—”

With two steps the distance between the two of you closed, his face leaned and before you knew it, his lips were pressed against your own. He tasted like caramel with a bit of a smokey flavor, not quite like barbeque and not quite like cigarettes, perhaps something in between. His lips were slightly chapped against your own, but the kiss itself was gentle, his hands placed gingerly on your hips as he pulled you against his body. He was a fantastic kisser, by the way, every direction that his lips moved in and the way he was holding you made you practically putty in his hands as you melted into his touch. Soon, the need for oxygen was too great, the two of you breaking apart as the only sounds that could be heard were the pants from the both of you that stood out harshly against the quietness of the campus.

“We, oh god, we shouldn’t have—” you paused, attempting to gather your thoughts, trying to quiet the thousands upon thousands scenarios and ideas that were running through your head at the moment. Your parents, god, if they ever found out about this you would be ruined. Everything that you have worked for over the years would be completely shattered, demolished and bulldozed by the boy that stood in front of you—and for some reason, when you looked into his warm brown eyes, you didn’t seem to care. You were never really a reckless person, but for him, you were willing to risk it all. At this point in time, what he meant to you was worth more than whatever punishment your parents were going to inflict on you once they found out.

“You know I don’t care about what people think, and neither should you. Why is it any of their business what the two of us do with our lives? If I like you and you like me, then I don’t see the problem,” he pushed your body back a little bit, so he could look into your eyes. For once, there was no cockiness or arrogance in his voice, instead he looked at you passionately, with his hands holding yours and his thumb rubbing circles on the tops of your hands. There was so many unspoken words between the two of you, but just this once his touch and his presence was enough.

And for once you could safely say that Lee Felix was right, in this moment it was quite honestly you and him against the world.

seven.

To say that things were weird between the two of you was definitely an understatement. Neither of you addressed what had happened a couple of nights ago, the kiss was almost a taboo subject and to mention it meant that you both had to address the change in your relationship with each other. Instead, it was easier to ignore everything that changed and instead pretend that everything was just fine between the two of you. In all honesty, you would be lying if you said that you never considered a relationship with him, and in reality, that is all you have been thinking about the last couple of days. You never thought that love could feel like this, every moment with him was as if you were floating, drifting endlessly on cloud nine with no intentions of stopping. Every stereotype and previous assumptions about him were completely thrown out the window. He was perhaps the kindest soul that you could ever meet, despite his rough exterior, and he treated you with the utmost kindness, his manners rivaling some of the more posh boys that you have dated in the past. He was a complete gentleman and never pushed you to do anything that you didn’t want to, respected his boundaries and of course, acted as the epitome of the perfect boyfriend. You knew that you should tread with caution, the honeymoon phase was still in full effect, but with him, you couldn’t help but dive straight in. With him you were loose and reckless, the complete opposite of everything that you were molded to be by your parents.

And while you were unsure of where your relationship with him stands, you were first and foremost his tutor, you would be damned if you were the one who ultimately caused his grades to slip again. Which is why most of your dates the past few days have been focused on only studying, the two of you meeting up at cafes or the library in order to help him prepare for this upcoming final on Literature of the 20th Century. There was a slight tension between the two of you, understandable considering the circumstances, but you were adamant that there would be nothing to distract him from acing this exam, and this was evident in how you threatened him with everything under the sun if he even dared to try anything other than studying.

Before both of you knew it the exam was quickly approaching, the last study date seemed to fly by in a matter of minutes, and you both found yourself walking the familiar path on the way to the lecture hall in time for the morning exam. As usual, Felix clutched the study guide in his hand as he walked, mumbling little facts about each work of literature that was present on the page. You couldn’t help but smile at his mannerisms, watching his face furrow as he was deep in thought made him appear almost cute, vastly different from his every day cool and cocky exterior.

“So, what’s my prize this time for scoring well on the exam?” he asked you coolly, cocking one eyebrow in the air playfully, the study guide soon forgotten in his hands.

“Bold of you to assume that there is a prize, I mean, studying hard and putting in the work and receiving the outcome you wanted sounds like enough of a reward to me,” you shrugged, giving him a wink. In response, he shot you a teasing glare shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“While that sounds very uh tempting I have another idea,” he paused slightly for dramatic effect before continuing, “if I get an A on this test, then I think you should promise me something.” Of course, he didn’t really go into details after that, citing that if he talked about it any longer than he will jinx himself and not only fluke this test, but he will also cheat himself out of this deal.

Bidding you a quick farewell, he disappeared inside the lecture hall blowing you a kiss before vanishing behind the wooden doors. Even in a situation like this he seemed to find time to be flirty, ignoring the obvious tension and oddness between the two of you in favor of attempting to restore some sense of normalcy. He was different to say the least, and that’s probably what attracted you to him in the first place, and with a slight shake of your head, you turned away and walked towards your own classroom.

And you couldn’t begin to hide the redness in your cheeks or the boisterous hammering of your heart beneath your ribcage, which confirmed what you had previously known already—that you were head-over-heels in love with this boy.

As soon as Felix stepped foot outside of the lecture room, his eyes desperately scanned the campus grounds looking for your figure. He was ecstatic and couldn't wait to share the good news with you, but as his eyes moved around looking for any sign of you, he was disappointed to not see your figure in sight. This emotion was evident on his face, and it was hard for him to hide it, as he opted to shove his hands inside the pockets of his leather jacket. He wanted to boast to you, to shove his high grade in your face and smugly demand his prize—an official date with you. No, he wouldn’t accept anymore of this “study date” bullshit, while he did get to spend time with you (which he did very much enjoy) he wanted something that wasn’t underneath the guise of school. He wanted something that was real and concrete between the two of you, and this was the perfect opportunity to voice his true intentions.

Felix was no idiot, the kiss that you both shared was something that doesn’t normally happen between a tutor and a student, let alone between friends. At the moment he wasn’t really sure where your relationship stood, the two had walked the very thin line between friends and lovers, and after the kiss, a boundary was crossed and it’s too late to go back now. Pulling out his phone, he decided to send you a quick text just in case you were running late from class.

very annoying (but cute) boy: hey, where are you??

very annoying (but cute) boy: i think i would like to redeem my prize right now, and in order for me to do that i need you to be here

Even after ten minutes there was no response from you, while it wasn’t that odd for you to go a bit radio silent when you’re busy studying, but he thought it was a bit strange of you to forget something as important as this. That was it, you must have become preoccupied with something else, and you’ll end up getting back to him when you find the time. Shrugging his shoulders, he pocketed his phone before taking off to find the rest of his friends, his thoughts lingering on you the whole way there.

It’s only a few hours later when an announcement is made across the campus, alerting the entire student body of your disappearance. Of course the word “kidnapping” isn’t used in order to not alarm the rest of the student body, but the meaning behind your disappearance was evident across the campus. The first thing that he did once the news was broken to him was punch a wall, sure, not the most effective thing to do but at the moment he was unable to contain himself and his emotions. He was angry, in fact he was more than angry, and he honestly didn’t know what to do with himself. How could this have happened, especially under his watch? You were his responsibility, he was supposed to be able to protect you from everything, especially things like this, but he has failed you.

Currently he was both a mess inside and out, his hand coming in contact with the coffee table that was situated in the center of the room. His eyes were ablaze, a storm brewing within them, as he glared at the taller male in front of him. The rest of his friends gathered around the two males, watching the scene unfold in front of them.

“What do you mean we can’t go and save her? We’ve done recon missions like this all time, we will in and out before anything really happens,” Felix slammed his fist down on the coffee table, shaking the furniture in an attempt to prove his point to the male in front of him. However, Chan was more mature than that and would not be easily swayed by irrational persuasions.

“I know you care about them and under different circumstances I wouldn’t be opposing you, but we can’t risk anything right now. The media’s attention is already fixated on us, and causing any more publicity like this would draw us even more into the spotlight, and right now we don't need everything we do to be a spectacle for the public to criticize."

It was logical, every single word that ushered past his mouth and Felix knew that. But, he couldn’t help the fire that spread across his entire body, tingling from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers, urging him to do something, anything, calling him to action. He couldn’t take this bureaucracy anymore, following the rules in order to appease the ever critical public and for what? The outcome was always the same in the end, the public always demanding (and never satisfied) for a change, a way to exterminate the vermin that lived in the streets, and they always drew the short-end of the stick. Forced to retreat back into the outskirts of the town, hiding as if they were the ones who committed the sins, while the real demons hide among the general population.

The door slammed closed behind him, the sound echoing slightly in the empty streets of the campus. In wake of your disappearance, it seemed like the student body and the school was taking extra precautions by instilling a mandatory curfew and for once, it seems that the student body was actually complying. Felix scoffed, shoving his hands into his pocket, before turning and taking off in a random direction. He couldn’t think straight, his brain too busy being clouded over by the sheer frustration and anger that he felt. In this moment, he truly understood what it meant to be helpless, and he could earnestly say that it was the worst feeling in the world. The fire inside was itching for him to do something—to take action, but as much as he wanted to, he was completely helpless to the situation at hand.

And for the first time in his life, Lee Felix felt utterly defeated.

eight.

It has been three days since you have gone missing, and he could swear that he was losing his mind. There was nothing, no clues, no witnesses, nothing—as if you had simply disappeared without a trace. By now the campus had returned to a version of normalcy, the streets were no longer empty, the classrooms and dorms repopulated, and the campus seemed to buzz with life once again, which only seemed to enrage the male. He couldn’t understand how everyone could simply pick up and move on, turn a blind eye to the fact that it hasn’t even been a week since your disappearance and suddenly, it was perfectly acceptable for everything to return to normal? No. He wouldn’t stand for this, he couldn’t. His conscience wouldn’t allow him to idly sit by and wait for news to come to him, instead he needed to be proactive—be out there searching and not resting until he brought you back safely.

But, here lies the problem. Felix was floating in the same boat as the detectives, officers and everyone else looking for you, with absolutely no leads on who took you and why. All he could do was rely on his gut instincts, and thus far in life, there wasn’t a time where his gut has ever steered him wrong. Everything about this was pointing to their rival gang Neo Culture Technology, or what they liked to call themselves, NCT. Sure, it was only a hunch that he had, but everything seemed to fall into place around this theory. Exhibit A, they had the means to do it. Saying that they were extremely well funded was an understatement, in more simpler terms, they were loaded. Anything they wanted, they could have just by waving a stack of bills and it was done. Exhibit B, they had the motive to do it. The rivalry between the two gangs was no joking matter, even though they both seemed dominant now, any action was a small enough spark to set the whole rivalry ablaze once again. And he would damned if this wasn’t the signalling flare. Exhibit C, his gut was telling him that this was the answer. Now, there have been many things that Lee Felix has been wrong about in his life, his gut has always steered him in the right direction—and right now, it was practically screaming at him to follow this lead.

However, there was a slight problem and that came in the form of someone named Bang Chan. Felix was explicitly told not to move a muscle, to not do anything that would draw attention to the gang, and rescuing you was bound to blow everything that they have worked so hard for—obliterated due to his selfish desire. But, he couldn’t help himself. What kind of person would he be if he had the chance to possibly save you and instead decided that the reputation of Stray Kids was more valuable. No, if he did that he would embody exactly what society deemed him: a monster.

That’s how he found himself here, somewhere past two in the morning outside one of the many abandoned warehouses in the inner city. It was almost idiotic for him to be here, alone, with no backup and he was certainly a madman to try to even attempt to pull something off like this. The darkness provided a decent cover and gave him the slight element of surprise, but with no windows, it was impossible to actually see if he was walking into a trap. All he was running on was his gut instinct, and while it has never failed him before, there was always a first time for everything.

Bracing himself, he kicked the doors open putting up his fists and readying his stance, prepared for a fight. But, it never came, his posture immediately relaxing as soon as he looked towards the center of the vast room. There you were, bound to a chair with rope and gagged, but otherwise unharmed staring at him with wide eyes. Navigating around the miscellaneous shipping containers and wooden boxes that plagued the room, he ran to you, undoing your gag and began working on the ropes that held your body to the chair.

“I thought you would never find me,” you choked out, your voice hoarse and scratchy. The relief that flooded your body once you saw him almost had tears pooling in your eyes. Suddenly the frigid air of the warehouse didn’t feel that cold anymore, and it was as if all your prayers had finally been answered. Within the next minute, he had freed you from your binds, taking off his leather jacket and draping the article of clothing over your shoulders in an attempt to keep you warm, while wrapping one arm around you and pulling you into his body. Despite all the warmth that he was providing, you were still freezing, and you could barely feel your legs moving as he attempted to guide you out of the warehouse.

You were vaguely aware of him talking, his lips were moving yet, at least to you, it seemed like there was no sound coming out. The blank expression on your features was enough to indicate this fact to him, as he instead tried to navigate you faster through the warehouse. It was obvious that he was worried, it was written all over his face—the way his eyebrows were furrowed, his arm wrapped just a bit too tightly around your shoulders, and the way his other hand kept hovering over his pocket as if he was going to pull a weapon out any minute now. Come to think of it, you haven’t seen your captures in a while, and that probably was not a good thing. It had slipped your mind, but as Felix led you out of the warehouse it seemed to be the only thing on the forefront of your mind.

The feeling of anxiety seemed to crawl up your throat, the thought of being captured again causing a new wave of panic to wash over you. Never have you experienced a situation as horrible as these past few days, and you were not willing to relive this horrifying experience again. With these overwhelming new emotions everything seemed to be too much for you, added onto the sound of distant sounds of sirens and bright spotlights that seemed to dance in front of your field of vision, your body couldn’t hold on any longer as you suddenly collapsed—becoming limp in the arms of your savior.

It took a second for Felix to adjust your newfound weight in his arms, grunting slightly as he picked you up and began carrying you through the open doors of the warehouse and was met with a swarm of police cars and officers with their guns drawn directly at him.

Fuck, what did he manage to get himself into?

nine.

Felix knew that he wasn’t supposed to be here, but then again, when has he ever followed directions? Hospitals were never his favorite place, and in all honesty, he tended to avoid them when he could, the sterile and cleanliness smell from them making him feel as if he was choking on a gallon of hand sanitizer. But, at the moment, he was here of his own free will—lurking around the corridors of the building for something specific. It was obvious that he stuck out like a sore thumb, his dark clothing standing out against the cleanliness white background, but for some reason no one seemed to pay him any attention. Instead, every nurse, doctor, and patient were too preoccupied with their own tasks, far too busy to pay him any mind.

Rounding the corner with his hands tucked deep into his pockets, his eyes scanned the halls of the hospital before landing on a specific room, PATIENT ROOM 325. He glanced to the left, then to the right, and after making sure that no one was around, he pulled the handle of the door and opened it just enough to slip into the room.

It was dark, and the only light came from the open windows in front of him, casting a soft glow. The full moon hung brightly in the sky and the stars were on full display tonight, and it would have been a beautiful sight if he wasn’t focused on something else. A couple of feet away from the window was a stereotypical hospital bed, or what he could assume was a hospital bed, with the curtains drawn around it. There was no other noise in the room besides the faint hum of a few machines by the bedside and the occasional sound of crickets from outside, which caused him to question if there was perhaps anybody in the room.

Taking another step forward, he reached forward and grabbed one side of the curtain, prepared to see who (if anybody) was lying in the bed. However, a voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

“You know we’re supposed to stay away from each other.” The voice was hoarse, but still recognizable, and his heart clenched at the sound. He stepped forward, grasping at the curtain in front of him, his knuckles turning white from how firmly he was gripping the material. There was an internal war raging inside of him, trying to decide if he could even bear to see you in your current state. However, he soon decided against his current judgement and before he could reason against himself, he yanked the curtains aside to reveal the sight of you before him.

In all honesty, you could have fared worse from the whole ordeal, but you managed to only make it out with slight dehydration and some minor cuts and bruising. Nevertheless, Felix’s breath hitched at the sight of you as he slowly approached the side of your bed. Even with your hair a mess, the prominent bags underneath your eyes, and a small but tired smile, he couldn’t help but think that you were the most beautiful person that he has ever laid eyes on.

“You’re doing it again,” you purse your lips, your eyes narrowing as you drink in his figure in the moonlight.

“Doing what?”

“Looking at me like I hung both the moon and the stars in the sky.”

He was thankful for the dimness of the room to conceal the flush of his cheeks. Approaching your bedside, he sat at the very edge of the bed, almost afraid to get any closer, as if one slight movement would break you. The both of you soon fell into a comfortable silence, but there was a slight amount of awkward tension that hung in the air. You wanted to tell him so many things, spend the rest of your lifetime apologizing for dragging him into this mess, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say a word—everything you want to say sitting heavily on your tongue. Instead, you gingerly moved your hand to brush over his own and let it rest on top of his own as he interlocked your fingers together. There it was, a silent conversation exchanged between the two of you, and when you gave his hand a long squeeze, he gave you a small squeeze back.

There were sounds coming from outside of your room, the sound of low chatter followed by the brisk footsteps was enough for Felix to recoil his hand abruptly and to stand suddenly. It was the cold wave of reality raining down on the both of you, that he shouldn’t be here and you shouldn’t be seeing someone like him.

“You know it wasn’t your fault, right, all of this wasn’t your fault,” you muttered, choking back tears. You reached up to grab his hand once again, feeling his body slightly tense up at your touch. This was a cruel world and the two of you were simply living proof of that statement, unable to change your fate and the bad luck that came with it. Ultimately, the entire plot was an elaborate plan by Stray Kids’ rival gang in order to draw attention to them at that prestigious school and keep the gang in the limelight to distract from the nefarious activities executed by NCT. And for the most part, while it seemed like everything turned out alright in the end, there were consequences that needed to be paid.

After spending some long hours in the police station, Felix was finally released after being found innocent of any involvement in your attack. Not only did he earn a complete berating from Chan, but he was also banned from seeing you, and if he was caught well, the wrath of Chan was going to come raining down on him once more. But for you he was willing to risk it, you were different from every other risk that he has ever taken in his life, and if he was being completely honest, you were the best one. And he would like to think that he could one day reap the rewards.

You on the other hand, were rushed to the hospital where you were met with your parents on the phone, demanding lawyers and the police enforcement catch whoever did this to their child. Immediately they blamed Felix, and would not listen to a single word you said defending him. Their minds were already made up, and in their minds he had tainted you—changed you from their perfect and lovely child, into someone just like them.

“You can’t change my mind, sweetheart, my decision is final,” your mother declares, shuffling around the hospital room, rearranging your items that were haphazardly thrown around the room. Your dad stood in the corner with his arms folded across his chest, not uttering a word against your mother’s declaration.

“You want me to move halfway across the world after I’ve gotten into the most prestigious university here, and you’re telling me not to be upset?” you throw up your hands in exasperation, sitting up in the bed.

Your sudden outburst caused your mother to stop in her tracks, before taking three steps closer towards your bed, until she was only a few feet away. Her eyebrows were scrunched together, the look in her eyes was enough to send chills down your spine, and the snarl sitting on her lips let you know that you were about to be in a deep pile of shit.

“[Y/N], I’m going to tell you once more and after that I don’t want to hear any more complaints from you anymore, understand? We are all moving to America and away from this wretched place and that’s final,” she spat at you, before turning away and resumed tidying the room, “you need a fresh start away from this tainted place, I mean, look at what you’ve become—infected by those vermin, and look what they turned you into! A fresh start will be good for all of us, and maybe finally getting away from those despicable people can you finally return to how you were.”

Your mother was never a woman who actively changed her mind once it was set on something, and her latest decision was no different. Everything was practically being finalized as you and Felix both, the entire house being condensed into cardboard boxes then placed on a plane to go to America, and you were going to join them in a few days.

“You should probably get back soon,” your voice was barely above a whisper and if it was any quieter the strawberry blond would have missed everything that you had uttered. HIs jaw visibly clenched at your words, his face turned away from you so you couldn’t see the internal turmoil that was written across his features—eyebrows furrowed, a deep frown sitting on his lips and a storm brewing within his brown eyes. “I don’t want to get you into more trouble than I already have.”

“And what if I don’t want to go?”

He turned around to face you, his usually warm brown eyes now ablaze, and you could only describe the expression on his face as the most passionate that you have ever seen him. Reaching out for your hand, he grasped it, intertwining his fingers with your own and gripping onto you as if his life depended on it.

“Please, don’t make this harder than it already is,” you turned your head away from him, feeling tears fighting to spill over. He didn’t need to see you like this and it would only make it harder to say goodbye. With one blink, the tears start falling, cascading down your cheeks before dribbling down onto the sterile hospital sheets below.

Felix couldn’t help but feel his heart break at the sight, and instead opted to gingerly pull you into his arms. Your head rested against his chest, your tears soaking his shirt and sobs wracking your body as he patted your back soothingly. He wasn’t sure how long the two of you stayed there like it, but it was only until your sobs had turned into quiet sniffles and your tears had almost ceased.

“I don’t know what the future will hold for the both of us, but I promise you, I will find you. I don’t care how long it will take, but someday I will make my way back to you,” his voice was soft, the softest that you have ever heard from him, but instead of feeling the usual comfort from his words, you couldn’t help but feel a cold sense of dread wash over you.

“You shouldn’t make promises that you can’t keep,” you muttered. His body stiffened at your words, and it was as if the confusion was radiating off of him, and it was only when you pulled your body away could you really see his face.

ten.

Bidding goodbye to some of your classmates, you readjusted your backpack before walking out of the cafe and into the busy street. America was certainly nothing like you could have ever imagined, in more ways than one it was similar to the city that you grew up, but completely different at the same time. In the six months that you have been here, you have adjusted to the best of your ability. Everything from the culture to the language, at first completely baffled you, but as you listened to the locals aimlessly chat amongst themselves as you walked down the sidewalk, you couldn’t help but feel as if you fit right in.

The sun was high in the sky, the warm rays shining down on you, as you carefully slipped your sunglasses over your eyes and continued walking. In the distance, you faintly heard the sound of a motorcycle roaring in the distance. The revving of the engine continues to get louder, until you one zoom past you and continue on towards the highway. Not that it mattered, but you couldn’t make out the driver behind the tinted helmet, and for some reason that caused the ache in your heart to return.

You paused for a second, just as the pedestrian signal turned green, allowing you to cross the street. Around you people moved forward, carrying on with their conversations, but you were frozen on one side of the street. And suddenly you were back in there all over again, the familiar feeling of his arm wrapped around your waist, the melodic sound of his laughter ringing in your ears, and the stupidly cute smile that always seemed to grace his lips whenever you were around. Every memory about him seemed to crash over you, until you were drowning in a sea of moments where you could never return.

Your heart clenched at the thought, and briefly you allowed yourself to wonder about him. Over the months that you have spent here, you have repressed every thought about him. In the beginning everything reminded you of him, he was everywhere, and nowhere at the same time. However, as time went on, it became easier. You made new friends, went to new places, and slowly but surely you started to accept that this was the way that things were—and you were coming to terms with your newfound reality. But sometimes you days like these happen, and you’re suddenly crippled with the thought of him.

However, you are instead learning how to swim, and managing to stay afloat in the ocean of memories. You were learning to breathe without him by your side. You exhaled, releasing a shaky breath, before refocusing on the crosswalk in front of you. Looking both ways and making sure that the light was green, you continued walking—one foot in front of the other.

You were grateful that he walked into your life. He taught you lessons that you could have never learned on your own, and gave you memories that you would never trade for the world. In the end, while it was never meant to be, you would never forget the taste of the fruit that you were never meant to have—the irresistible sweetness of a boy named Lee Felix.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #districtninewriters #sk imagines #sk scenarios #skz #stray kids #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #lee felix #lee felix x reader #lee felix imagines #my writing

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nohoney · 4 years

Text

Tell Me (When You’re Ready) - 4.1

notes: Part 4 of the Us Series also on ao3

Us Series Masterlist

warnings: 18+, drug use, polyamory, low key manipulation, toxic relationships, cheating

summary:

He’s never been involved with anyone else the way he’s been with you, you’re all he thinks about and wants to have. It’s more than just liking you, this instinct to care for you, this obsession and desire he feels over you, he calls it love, it must be love.

4.1 ✧ 4.2 ✧ 4.3 ✧ 4.4

At first glance, Touya didn’t really think much of you the first time he had seen you.

You were just another random party goer to him, one of many he saw whenever he attended those kinds of things, easier to just sell to his clientele if they conglomerated in these kinds of functions, though with the slightly older ones they have to blend in better since they’re technically crashing a house party. University students, upcoming freshmeat, recently graduated alumni and some of their plus ones or more, it’s so easy to tell who the veterans are versus the greenhorns.

The ones who can hold themselves together versus the ones that need to be carried, the ones who can hold there liquor versus the ones that need to be babysat, the strong versus the weak.

And you were that in between, walking around cross faded with eyes that looked lost in space but when someone put a hand on your shoulder then you would come back to earth, but not with your feet touching the ground. Like your feet just barely skimming the surface but still wanting to float in the sky, streaming through a pleasant haze just a bit longer until the high ends and you’ll have no choice until it’s time to walk amongst the animals again.

You sat on the couch with a few girls, talking amongst themselves and no doubt grouped together to protect one another from the predators; who could resist drunk and weak girls, especially the ones who looked the most broken. The eyes of the boys on your group and hoping to try to break into the circle and pick off the weakest to break away the pack. They get especially eager when the group wants to drink more, but you and two friends decide to go outside to smoke a joint instead.

“I’m drunk, I need’a go outside.”

The first words he ever heard you say, though not the first he’s heard but it sounded cute the way you slurred them out.

His eyes followed you briefly, holding hands with a friend as you made your way to get to the outside for a smoke.

“Yo Dabi! Good to see you man!”

He passed discreet little baggies, pink and blue tablets, little pills, he always gets a pat on the back from the boys and winks from the girls.

The girls like him, more than a few offering a little something extra when he makes a successful sale. Two of his whores are at this party, the decent flings he goes back to every so often when he wants to get his dick wet and when they want his goods.

Good dick and good drugs, it’s nice to get a two for one sale.

The second time he sees you at the party, he’s just leaving a room and fixing his belt while you sit at the top of the stairs with a friend. You and your friend are engrossed in your conversation, more than likely a similar talk happening somewhere inside the house party because you talked about your regrets of the way you and your ex broke it off, just more drunk girl talk. “It was so… so fuckin’ stupid dude, I was drunk and he showed up. We fucked but whe’ I woke up the next day, I fuckin’ left and just didn’t talk to him again.”

The second thing he ever heard you say but Touya literally passed by three girls half an hour ago that had a similar conversation, yours was nothing special.

Touya always denies drinks, offers of lines and other things when he goes to these kinds of functions, he needs a clear mind when he deals. He’s not dumb as fuck when he’s high or when he’s on, he can handle himself quite well and could sell just as well even if he were, he just doesn’t want to be relaxed around people that he doesn’t know that well or trust. It would have been nice if Keigo tagged along but the fucker’s Adderall hadn’t worn off in time to accompany him. Keigo gives him a good break from the others, kinda resets him and then he goes back to his business.

But Keigo isn’t around so Touya settles for plowing girls in random rooms of the house to give him a brief recess and then he’s back out there.

The third time he sees you, you’re leaning against the body of a young man just a little taller than Touya but nothing in the way he holds you shows that he has any ill intentions towards you. It feels rare sometimes to see two people having a platonic friendship, especially between two people of the opposite sex. Touya’s already sold your friend whatever he wanted but sticks around to make conversation, though it’s an excuse because he can’t help but note the way you’re being held in your friend’s arms. He tries to not make it obvious as he talks but truthfully, Touya wanted to just look at you. It’s obvious that there’s nothing romantic in the way your friend holds you but for some reason, it doesn’t sit well with him.

Even with his eyes up on your friend, he can see how you cling to your friend’s body with your arms wrapped around him so securely and with so much trust. Touya notes how you’re practically purring as your friend pets your head, sometimes massaging the tips of his fingertips against your scalp and then rubbing your shoulder in comfort. And he can see how you peeked up at him a few times, your curious eyes on him but Touya recognizes the cloudy way you look up at him. It’s not out of interest in the way you looked at him but probably just wondering why he was around.

Eventually you stop looking at him and choose to shut your eyes, concentrating on your friend petting your head instead.

“You want to try anything (Name)? Dabi’s got the best shit I’ve ever had, pretty fucking primo.” your friend had offered but you shook your head and said no. And goddamn if it wasn’t the cutest no that Touya’s ever heard in his life, the third thing he's ever heard you say. “Girl’s been pretty curious about wanting to try coke but she hasn’t worked up the nerve to actually give it a try. You know what, lemme buy a half off you too and maybe this’ll be the night that she finally gives it a try.”

Touya went home wondering if you lost your cocaine virginity that night.

That question wouldn’t be answered until a couple month’s later after you and him shared a philosophy class together. Touya remembered you very clearly but for some reason, his gut twists a little when you spoke to him the first time and it’s clear that you didn’t remember him from the party. He decides to forgive you for not remembering him because he feels like he can’t stay mad at you, not with that cute face you have.

But it’s just like at the party, you don’t seem particularly interested in him but Touya’s interested in you so he decides to seek you out more. He starts to crave your attention but he doesn’t want to look like a fool if it’s a one-sided attraction so he lays the charm on you, calls you pretty names that he’s never used on other girls. At first Touya thinks that you can just be girl number nine, hopefully another easy hole for him to use when he has an itch to scratch.

Now Touya’s fucked a lot of girls. He’s taken innocent girls virginities before and he’s had some pretty wild sex with the campus sluts, but there’s something different about you. You’re not a prude, not in the way you flirt back and insinuate wanting to take a seat on his face sometimes, but you’ve got some untouched parts of you that he wanted to lay a claim on. He’d show you new things and hold your hand over what you’d be too scared to do on your own or with others, he’ll watch over you. Imagine his giddiness the first time he ever cut lines of coke for you, it turned out that your cocaine virginity belonged to him this entire time.

"Oh... it's not that bad!"

You took that line so good, how about you take my cock next?

You tease him, playing coy one moment and then acting like nothing happened next.

And normally with bitches that do that shit with him for too long, Touya drops them pretty fast and moves on to the next. A little flirting and teasing is fine but he’s not looking to play a long term game with that kind of bullshit, it’s either happening or it’s not.

But with you it’s different.

You’re different.

Touya starts to obsess over you so slowly that he doesn’t even recognize it at first. All he knows is that he has to have you, he ghosts four of his whores in favor of being with you even though there wasn’t a guarantee that he would get in your pants. He just dropped the ones that he sought for sex only, the other half are still his clientele so he keeps those ones around, plus they're still decent lays. Keigo notices it, the way his friend talks over some girl that he hasn’t even fucked yet and letting go of four of his side whores has him thinking, ‘Wow, she must be something to get Touya’s attention this bad.’

The semester starts to come to an end and he still hasn’t bagged you yet, he calls you his doll but you haven’t let him play with you. He places one of his whores face down and ass up after she does a few lines, imagines that it’s you underneath him and what you might sound like and its your ass he’s grabbing. Touya can imagine it, you weak underneath him and begging for his cock but when the bitch under him whines out ‘Dabi’, he almost loses his boner. He tells her to shut the fuck up and bite the pillow, doesn’t want to hear her stupid sounds because he wants to envision you instead.

But even imagining you calling him Dabi feels wrong, Touya rolling off your pretty lips as he paints your insides white… it blows him over the edge.

In his mind that’s what he wants, but you don’t get the right to call him by his real name. He doesn’t know you like that so you’re just like everyone else for now, referring to him as Dabi. At some point he figures that this fixation he has on you will burn out soon. And yet Touya finds himself drawn further to you, wanting you more and more, doesn’t want you to wander too far away from him and wants to know who you’re with when he’s not by your side.

And he wanted to fuck you too, so fucking bad.

His first try was with a night cap at his place, the first time Touya ever had a girl over in his space. But it seems you know your limitation on alcohol and don’t let him pour you an extra drop, wanting to be able to drive yourself home and be in decent shape for your lectures. He smokes you up one day and it goes in a good direction, you were relaxed and sending him some good signals that lead to the two of you making out. It didn’t go further because he got a phone call from his mother that he couldn’t possibly ignore, but you thought ‘Oh a mama’s boy, that’s so sweet.’

It’s the third time that he finally gets you, playing music in his car that gets you in the mood and that gets you naked in his backseat. He doesn’t know what made you ready all of a sudden but he didn’t stop to ask as you fervently sucked him off. You were more riled up than him, so excited to get his dick and that eager look in your eye when you commanded him to blow your back out. And he sure did not disappoint, he never disappoints when it comes to his dick.

And a relationship persists forward to the surprise of both of you, liking each other more than you thought you would but there were no labels yet, Touya wasn’t used to having a girlfriend so he didn’t want to call you that at first and you weren’t sure if you wanted him to be your boyfriend. Neither of you really spoke about what you were to one another despite the attraction and the lazy build of emotions that neither of you were aware of in the beginning. All Touya knew was that he wanted you to be around him more and be waiting for him when he returned back to his apartment.

It’s difficult to say when mutual attraction turned into the of you catching feelings for one another. You and Touya were hooking up for a couple of weeks after the end of the semester of the one class you shared together, and while he was aware that you were a little disgruntled at him fucking the girls he sells to, he didn’t think it was that big of a deal at the time. Didn’t he make it obvious that you’re different from them and that he only cared about you? So what if he got his dick wet from other girls aside from you? He’d been doing it before he started seeing you but he always came back to you afterwards, so why were you so pissed?

“It’s just business doll.”

It wasn’t official between the two of you yet so there wasn’t much you could say at the time. You just figured that if Touya liked you so much then he would stop and Touya figured that since you liked him just as much then you would understand.

But Touya remembers that night when he left to go sell at another house party, trying to spend time with you before he had to leave but you wouldn’t let him. He knew you were mad again because he just came back from selling to one of his whores which meant that, ‘Yes, she offered her pussy when I got there so we fucked.’ He honestly did not understand where your jealousy was coming from. You were there, sitting in his apartment and spending nights in his bed, he was doing shit with you that he’d never done with anyone else and you were still getting mad at him.

How did you not get that you were different from the rest of them?

But Touya wasn’t going to put more effort into making you feel better when you didn’t want to be cheered up, so he left to do his usual thing.

And when he came back to his apartment earlier than expected, which was only one in the morning, he found that your car was not in the guest parking and therefore you were not waiting for him inside his home. He tried ringing you to find out if you went back to your place but it went straight to voicemail so he goes to your home in hopes that you would have been there instead. But you’re not there when he arrives and you don’t answer his texts and phone calls still don’t go through."Fucking bitch! Where the hell are you?"

Touya can stay up until three in the morning at most if he’s not on anything but that night was the only night he had ever stayed up by just being angry alone. He was riled up and emotions all over the place, hands shaking so bad that he needed to punch something, almost considered putting his fist through his wall. He was fucking furious because he knows immediately that you went out to be with someone else, went to get fucked by some scum because you wanted to be a vindictive little cunt about what happened earlier.

He had practically barged into Keigo’s place and shook him awake in his bed because he didn’t know who to turn to.

“She’s out getting fucked. I fucking know she is!”

“Wha-? Touya…” Keigo groggily sat up in his bed and brushed off Touya's hands off his shoulders, blonde hair a mess from tossing and turning but he gives his friend his undivided attention. He hadn’t met you yet, had only seen pictures and nudes of you that Touya shared with him, but he’s pretty shocked over how outraged Touya is. He’d never seen his friend get so worked up over one girl before, so it speaks volumes to him to see Touya so unhinged. “What makes you say that? Maybe she’s out with friends or something. Just because she’s not back in her place doesn’t mean that she’s getting with another dude.”

But Touya’s gut said otherwise and he insisted that it was right.

“Okay man, I’m going to put some things in perspective for you. I don’t know this girl but it’s obvious that you’re into her… like a lot, but I can’t really blame her for going out to be with someone else if that’s what she’s doing right now. She can still go do what she wants just as much as you can. If you guys haven’t defined what you are to one another, especially with how you operate, then you don’t have much of a right to be telling her what to do.”

Touya was livid when you returned to your apartment, angry that you had the audacity to be so spiteful with him and furious at the thought of you underneath someone that wasn’t him. It fucking hurt him because he didn’t fuck the whores to make you angry, they didn’t mean anything to him compared to you. But in the aftermath of hatefucking turning into lovemaking, he still mulled over Keigo’s advice, deciding that maybe it would make you happy to call you his girlfriend if it meant that you wouldn’t go behind his back again. You're his favorite, his number one, his only one, if reassuring is what he has to do then he'll put up with it as long as he doesn't have to say it too often. And fine, if it really bugged you that much then he decided to make it fair by giving you permission to sleep with who you wanted provided that you always came back to him the same that he did with you.

Except that after he put it out there, he immediately regretted putting the offer out but knew that a fight would surely begin if he decided to take it back. Once again the thought of you being with someone else had got his teeth grinding and gave him anxiety. You’re his fucking girl, his precious doll that deserved to be put on a throne and be given whatever you wanted. Touya wanted nothing more than to protect you from assholes who didn’t appreciate you like your dumbass ex-boyfriend.

“(Name)’s really great, I’m glad the two of you are together. Though are you sure you’re okay with her seeing other guys too? I know you said it to be fair to her but I see you get bent out of shape if she’s even around just one of her guy friends.” Keigo puffed on cigarette, tapping some of the excess ash off the tip before returning the filter to his lips. “You really going to be okay if she decides to get picked up by another dude?”

Touya let out a frustrated sigh as he lit his third cigarette in a row; you’d be pissed if you found out but he was fortunate that you would be out for a few hours so he had time to clean away the evidence. “They’re gonna treat her like shit, I know the assholes out there would but if I take it back, she’s going to get pissed. She didn’t even fucking apologize for fucking someone else behind my back. I don’t want her to be used by someone else, she’s not a whore.”

“Correction, you mean she’s your whore.”

The only one who understood his way of thinking was Keigo.

There’s a night where you sleep in your own apartment while Touya and Keigo sit outside your complex, leaning against his car and just looking at the balcony that they know is attached to your place. A six pack of beer sits on the hood of the car, two slots empty as they each hold a bottle in their hand. Keigo quietly admits to him, “I think I might like (Name) Touya. Like I think I like her a lot, more than just wanting to fuck her and more than just as a friend.”

Touya quietly takes in Keigo’s confession and just nods his head, still looking up at your balcony and hoping that you’re sleeping well. He’s never been involved with anyone else the way he’s been with you, you’re all he thinks about and wants to have. It’s more than just liking you, this instinct to care for you, this obsession and desire he feels over you, he calls it love, it must be love. He hesitantly admits back, “… I think I love her.”

“Wow…”

“Yeah, wow…”

“You really think you love her?” Keigo asked after polishing off his first beer. “What about that whole arrangement thing? If you tell her you love her, she might question you since, you know, you’re still fucking other girls. If you love her then she’ll expect you to be monogamous with her.”

“If she still takes me up on that arrangement, I don’t think I can handle it. Only people who love her should be allowed to fuck her.” In other words, only he should be the only one to have you. No one else loves you like Touya does, he’ll fucking kill any asshole that thinks they can use you as their fucktoy. When Keigo asks again about the other girls, he growls at him and tosses his bottle onto the concrete. “I’m fucking working on that, alright. I just… don’t know how to fucking commit. It’s too fucking hard to do this by myself.”

Keigo just pops the cap off another bottle and hands it to Touya. “Would it help if I joined the relationship? I’m sure we can work something out with (Name), provided she’s willing.”

Touya would observe you and Keigo together, you oblivious to his friend’s flirtations at times and mistaking it as him just being very friendly. He could see golden eyes wandering down your body, already knowing what you looked like without any clothes and how pretty you look when you’re gagging on a dick because Touya’s shown him your nudes and recorded videos of you. Keigo can try to hide and put up a front that he’s just lusting over you but Touya can see that his friend has got that little lovestruck glint in his eyes when he looks at you; and honestly, he’s not even upset about it. The vision of you and Keigo together, it makes him comfortable rather than the anxiety he feels when he thinks about you with someone else. They obsess over you together, you blissfully unaware of how tortured Keigo was sometimes that he couldn’t plow his cock into you because you saw him as just a friend.

So he takes up Keigo's offer.

He was hoping that the transition to introduce Keigo into the relationship would go smoother, but it only comes up after a fight when he brings you with him to a house party for the first time.

God, Touya didn’t mean what he said to you that night when you and Keigo rolled together; he was just frustrated because he didn’t know what he could do to show you that you meant more to him than you knew. No matter how much he reassured you, you kept on letting your stupid insecurities get in the way!

“C’mon man, one minute you’re telling me you love her and now all of a sudden you’re breaking up with her?” Keigo scolds him, unaware that you leave the both of them behind and duck into the house.

“I’m not trying to break up with her! I’m just— fuck, she just doesn’t get that… fuck!”

He’s at a loss of words, he doesn’t want to be mad at you but you couldn’t get over your hangups over the side whores. They weren’t his other girlfriends, not his side bitches, or anything like that. Touya literally only sees them for probably twenty minutes max on the occasion they hit him up, nothing compared to all the time dedicated to you. They can claw at his dick however much they want, that’s all they want from him anyway aside from the pills and powders he sells to them. If it gets them to shut up then fine, but Touya will never spend a second longer with them when he’s finished using them. He doesn’t give a fuck if they whine about not cumming, he never promised them an orgasm when he gives the whores his cock.

He obsesses over you, not them; he cares for you, not them; he only wants you, not them.

Stop being jealous, it's just you!

Keigo finally talks him down but they realize that you’re not around.

Touya searches the outside perimeter of the house while Keigo searches inside. You’re rolling, barely able to take care of yourself and they have no idea where you are. All the worst case scenarios run through his head like you wandering into the night and getting kidnapped, hit by a car while walking down the road, he wonders if you’re still at the house and possibly getting raped because you can’t fight back if someone forces themselves on you. He drives himself crazy with his own imagination and you won’t answer your fucking phone!

To his relief Keigo informs him that he found you locked inside one of the bedrooms, having mixed cocaine, ecstasy, and alcohol because you were upset about what happened. He’s a veteran, Touya’s mixed plenty of times within his boundaries of tolerance but you’ve never done it before so he worries instantly for your wellbeing. The only thing that he can think of what to do to help you is to bring you a fresh bottle of water, you’re probably dehydrated as hell.

He feels awkward as hell when he arrives to the room, standing off to the side as Keigo fusses over you. He’s able to comfort you with the right words in your state of mind, adding in kisses and sweet caresses to your body to help calm you, something that Touya feels unable to do at the moment. But Keigo fixes you up and nods for him to approach you, a little hurt that you whine for Keigo to stay.

But he has to admit his mistake, that he should have been more attentive to you when he brought you with him, even if he trusted Keigo to look over you the entire time. You’re upset, of course you’re upset with him, and he doesn’t want you to be mad at him anymore. So he decides to give you a right he should have bestowed to you a long time ago, you’re not allowed to call him Dabi anymore. It’s the only way he knows to make it up to you and show you that you’re important to him.

Don’t be mad at me anymore babydoll, I’m yours.

You’re a stubborn little thing at first, still insisting on calling him Dabi but he made you come around. His name falling from your lips just sounds so perfect, it sounds right as you choke up on pleasure and come undone with a scream of his name.

Touya imagines that night you went behind his back because you were mad at him, freezing for just a quick moment that you would do the same thing the next time you became angry with him, except now he had given you full permission. You hadn’t taken advantage of the arrangement and didn’t seek anyone out so far, he’s thankful for that, but he has to lock down Keigo into the relationship so that he can secure you.

Touya literally walked out of the house earlier to find you and Keigo making out, surely you can’t believe you can do that on ecstasy and still believe that everything is platonic. He has to put the truth out there, you deserve to know it, no one else would treat you so good like they would.

“He thinks you’re adorable. I talk about your pussy all the time with him. How fucking cute it is, how tight it gets when you get choked, and when you cum all over yourself. He wants to fuck you open so bad.”

“Touya, don’t say that! He’s just a friend!”

“A friend who wants to fuck you.”

He probably could have been more eloquent with his words but he gets his point across to you regardless.

“I gave you permission to fuck who you want doll, Keigo is not the worst person you could choose. In fact, I’d like it if he were the one to keep you warm for me.”

And he can see how realization hits you, Keigo further supporting the claim by coming onto you as well. What you used to perceive his actions as friendly, you thought otherwise now. It’s a truth that you can’t unlearn now that he’s put it out there, but he hopes that you fucking take the bait. If you reject Keigo coming into the relationship, he truly won’t be able to handle the possibility of you seeking someone else out.

He’d fucking go crazy.

That is not an exaggeration.

Everything goes smoothly though, you returning hand in hand with Keigo with that cute, embarrassed look on your face when you asked where the ‘proper threesome’ should take place. He doesn’t know what Keigo said to you or what you said to him in order to reach the desired conclusion but he doesn’t care, it doesn’t matter because he got what he wanted.

You’re right where Touya wants you.

It feels good to know that when he’s out, Keigo is there to be with you in his place.

Everything feels perfect when he’s with you, he won’t lose you to anyone, you’re so fucking good for him, so fucking loyal to him and Keigo that even when you have your own doubts, you fall in line with what he wants anyway. He knows what’s best for you, what you need and what you don’t need. You don’t have to worry about anything because you’re watched over and cared for. He cares for you all the time like when you’re drunk, high, rolling, cross faded, sick, depressed, and everything in between.

But admittedly there are moments when his own anxiety gets the best of him, sometimes Touya looks at you and suddenly wants to run to the hills. He pops a few oxys to try to calm him down sometimes but they’re not always effective. When the pills don’t help, he hopes one of the whores hits him up to ask for a pill or a baggy and he can pretend that he’s living his old life before you came along because that’s what he’s most familiar with. He thinks you’re too good to be true at times and he follows the instinct to self sabotage by still returning to the whores. And every single time without fail when he returns to you, he feels his chest constrict as soon as you’re in his sights.

It’s no secret to you when he goes out to see them, he comes back smelling like artificial fruit or sweet candy, and he sees how you bristle when he tries to come near you. You’re angry at him but choose to remain silent because it’s an argument that’s long exhausted, he feels guilty that he still can’t commit himself to you fully but swears that one day it will happen. One day he’ll defeat that monster inside him that tempts him to ruin everything he’s built with you. But until then, Touya wants to make it up to you every single time. Food and drinks are an easy way to placate you but his favorite is when you agree to house roll with him because no matter what you end up gravitating to him during the roll and lean on him during your come down.

Sensual make outs while on ecstasy when you’ve reached the peak and then comfortable silence during the come down as you wallow together in a brief period of depression, it’s when he feels the closest to you.

And you don’t know this because he hasn’t been ready to say anything, but he’s already told you that he loves you.

The first time he says it, it’s past the six month mark of the relationship and just a little after Keigo is inducted into it as well. Nothing special in particular had happened to make him say it, you went to bed early because you stayed up way too late the night before and you just needed the extra hours of rest. He smoked a joint to relax, hopped in the shower to clean up, and he tip toed quietly in the room to make sure he didn’t disturb you. You barely flinched as he turned on the light in the room, unaware at how much Touya stared down at you as you slept. He took in your features and marvels at how peaceful you look when you’re asleep.

“I love you.” he says for the first time to you out loud.

You shift a little and emit a quiet, nondescript sound and he panics briefly that you might have heard him. Relief floods through him as you simply mumble and nuzzle the pillow, continuing to rest and none the wiser to the confession that Touya spoke into the air. But a weight is off his shoulders as he climbs into bed with you and is ready to sleep alongside you.

So he tells you he loves you when he knows you can’t hear him like when you’re deep in slumber, when you have your headphones on and just blast your music, or just right when you walk out the door after kissing him goodbye. He’s brave enough in those moments to say it but not brave enough to actually tell you just yet.

There’s one night where he thought you were going to say it first, and if that was the case then Touya would happily reciprocate it back.

You were hanging onto him for dear life as Touya rammed his cock into you, your hands clutching his shoulders and the back of your head digging into the mattress with your back arched off the bed. Touya had been mean to you all night by edging you, pulling out just as you’re about ready to burst and relishes in your desperate cries. You promise him you’ll do anything he wants but please please please, don’t just leave you like this. It’s only when you’re at your most desperate that Touya decided to give you the orgasm he’d been denying you.

“Such a desperate fucking whore. Were you thinking about my cock the entire day you were out?” Touya growled into your neck before nipping down on a sensitive spot as he jackhammers his dick into your pussy. “You were fucking drenched in your panties when you walked through that door. You love my dick so much that you think about it all the time huh?”

Your hands clutch onto his shoulders and Touya’s hips move to fuck you until you pass out from cumming so hard. You’ve been fucked stupid plenty of times and you just blearily look up at him as he utterly uses you to his satisfaction. There are plentiful memories of when you’ve told him you loved his dick in the frenzy of the moment, nothing but praises for his cock and how good he rams it in and out of you. It’s so fucking cute when you’re dick drunk and you slur out all your words. But Touya swears that you say it a little bit differently, straining his ears to make sure he heard you right. His hips don’t falter in their pace but he wants to know that he’s hearing what he thinks he’s hearing.

“I love… it…. cock… I love… yo…” shaky breaths leave your lips, shuddering gasps as your whole body trembles at what is sure to be an earth shattering orgasm. “S’fucking good… love ih… Love… yo— ahhh!”

Your whole body tenses and your back arches off the bed as high as your body allows, toes curling as you cum all over Touya’s cock and he cums alongside you. But even in the wreckage of your orgasm, you’re still choking out those breathless words that he was straining to comprehend just a few seconds ago. He wanted you to enunciate more, he should have slapped your cheek and made you speak clearly otherwise he would edge you again but the idea comes much too late now that you’re a boneless, brain fucked mess beneath him with his cum leaking out of you.

He fucked you too good, you’re asleep within seconds after Touya pulls out of your pussy and he’s a little disappointed that he couldn’t draw those words out of you.

Turquoise blue eyes look down at you, so vulnerable and pretty right before him. You look perfect and so comfortable in his bed that for a few seconds he’s inconceivably happy. You’re completely unaware of the power you have over him, how easily you could kill him without even trying. He’ll break if you leave him and he’ll break you if you try to leave him.

Don’t leave me.

You stay curled up in the bed and snuggled into his pillow even though you have your own on your side of the bed. A few minutes have passed and Touya thinks it’s safe to say it again, confess his heart into the silence of the room and while you’re unconscious to avoid being vulnerable; he’s just not ready yet. It would make his life so much easier if you said it first out loud but he also thinks that it would make you really happy if he were to say it first.

He knows you’ll be happy once the words are put out there, whether he says it first or you do.

Until then, he says it quietly and in the safety of his room while you rest peacefully.

“I love you.”

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #dabi #bnha x reader #bnha #tw drugs #tw toxic relationship #us series

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