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GENGAR:

When your Gengar notices you're sad, it tries to cheer you up immediately by playing and goofing around, making silly faces and dancing to try and make you smile, but unfortunately it doesn’t work… it usually does though.. You were really upset this time, mumbling about a bad experience you had at the local shops with the bakery owner. You try to sleep things off, and when you finally close your eyes for some shut eye, your Gengar sneaks out. It rushes in the dark like a blaring wind all the way into town when the bakery shop owner is getting ready to close up for the day. The owner lived alone, and your Gengar wanted to take advantage of that… You woke up the next morning with the bakery owner at your door crying as your Gengar hid in the shadows, apologizing about how rude he had been to you the day before. He was all bruised up and as pale as a ghost. You thank him, and send him back on his way after a long talk. Only then does your Gengar come out from hiding, hugging you close.

SPRIGATITO:

Your Sprigatito tries to give you a little tough love when you stay in bed for too long. It’ll jump on you, paws kneading into the covers to try and wake you up as it meows in annoyance. You’ve been in bed for a long time! It was time to get up! It nibbles at your head, trying its best to irk you awake for minutes before giving up. When it notices how glum and tired you look it finally understands just how sad you are. You think it’s going to leave when it hops off your bed and dashes out the door, but it comes back seconds later with its favorite toy before bouncing on top of you once again and crawling underneath your arm so it can lay besides you and cuddle.

PIPLUP:

Your Piplup had no idea what was wrong with you, you weren’t eating, you were sleeping in more often and your once chipper and affectionate mood was worn down by a ton. It decides that it needs to cheer you up, so it sneaks out to the beach while you’re asleep. It takes a few hours, but you finally wake up when you feel soft clunks on your body. Your Piplup was on top of you, dropping moist little shells on your bedsheets as it chirped out in worry. You pick up the shells one by one, admiring how beautiful they looked, then you looked at your Piplup who was clinging to your arm. You smile, patting its head before standing up out of bed. If your Piplup wanted you to get better, you’d make sure you tried.

SYLVEON:

When you get sad your Sylveon is right besides you crying just as loud as you are. You both are quite loud when it comes to this, but your Sylveon just can’t help it, when you’re sad, it just wants to curl up in a ball and cry too while wrapping its ribbons around you like a tight hug. Sometimes it’s cries are much louder than yours that you can’t do anything else but stop crying and calm it down too!

RHYPERIOR:

When you’re sad your Rhyperior stiffens up. It doesn’t know how to handle these kinds of things naturally to be fair. You were sniffing in your bed after an argument with a bully..a common bully that’s picked on you more times than either of you could count. You were afraid to go into town tomorrow, too embarrassed after your bully humiliated you, but your Rhyperior wouldn’t have any of that. You were forced out your home and into the bustling streets the next day, your Rhyperior right behind you as it shook the ground with every step it took. Today was the day your bully would be taught a lesson. You had told your Rhyperior not to hurt anyone, but that didn’t mean intimidating was off limits. You were walking through the town looking for groceries on your list when you saw your bully from across the street. You both look at one another, and without saying anything he turns away once he sees the sharp glare from your ginormous Pokemon from behind you. He had left you alone after that, even when your Rhyperior wasn’t around!

BLISSEY:

Your Blissey’s heart literally fucking shatters into tiny pieces whenever you’re sad. Today was no exception. You’ve been in your room crying for hours, door closed and blinds drawn shut. She tries everything, cooking you meals, giving you little gifts under the door but nothing seems to work. You only stop crying when your Blissey is in your room, crying and hugging you as she chirps out in sadness how much she cares for you in that unfamiliar language you barely understand. Her grip is tight, so tight that you can barely move. She’ll only calm down when she feels like you’re ok again!

CHARIZARD:

You and your Charizard didn’t get along all the time, In fact, it was quite bratty, but, yours was always by your side after all. A dragon with few words besides soft grunts and booming roars that made the earth shake. You were upset, sitting on the edge of the beach looking out to sea while your Charizard sat beside you. You were more quiet than usual, less affectionate, because right now you’d be giving your Charizard soft pats on the belly by now and extra attention. You had sat still since morning, and the blazing sun was starting to shine. You’re about to get up and leave, but your Charizard flings its wing over your head for some shade. Take all the time you need to think, the heat doesn’t bother it after all.

DRAGONITE:

Your Dragonite feels genuinely distraught whenever you’re sad. It’s always been so keen on protecting you, and seeing you so sad hurts its feelings more than it can admit. You’ve been sniffing and burying your head into its chest all day, and it can’t bear to pull away from you for a moment. It’ll keep hugging you until you get better, and when you finally tell it who hurt you, it’ll hunt whatever it is down…

LUCARIO:

When you’re sad, there’s only one thing that can cheer you up, your Lucario knows that. You were very affectionate and loved hugging and cuddling with your Lucario ever since you were young, now that you are older you haven't done it much at all. Your Lucario didn’t really like physical touch much, but for you it didn’t mind, not if it would cheer you up after all. It goes in your room as you’re weeping before opening its arms, a shy expression etched on its features as you sniff in confusion. It has to initiate the hug, but you quickly come along, wrapping your arms around your beloved Pokemon as you cry into its shoulder. A few hours of this meant nothing if you were ok.

SNORLAX:

Your Snorlax could always tell when you were sad somehow. You never knew why it was so good at reading your energy, but it was. You were super bummed out after losing a Pokemon battle that you didn’t speak for days. Your dreams of becoming a master felt hopeless, and your despair was evident to everyone around you. You said you were fine, said you wanted to be alone because you felt sick but it was only a matter of time people picked up on your lie. You spent less time with your Snorlax than usual, and when your condition got worse, your Snorlax just can’t take seeing you like this anymore. You weren’t in bed anymore when you woke up, but a warm, soft wavy tummy. Snuggly arms crossed over you, refusing to let you go as your Snorlax nuzzled its cheek into your head. You didn’t have to be ok, you didn’t have to pretend you weren’t crying, you just didn’t need to be alone anymore.

SLOWPOKE:

You weren’t even sure your Slowpoke could tell if you were actually sad, they were hard to read Pokemon, and frankly, you weren’t so sure it cared much. You had a really rough day, and all you wanted to do when you got home was sleep. You weren’t expecting your Slowpoke to pounce on you when you walked through the door though! It was staring off into space, and maybe it forgot why it pounced on you in the first place, but it knew one thing! It cared for you and was happy to see you come home. Your Slowpoke cuddles on your chest, snuggling and giving you soft kisses on your cheek as you struggle to get it off with fits of laughter and affection. Maybe the day wasn’t that bad after all.

NOSEPASS: (the cutie pie)

When your Nosepass finally comes to realize that you’re sad it’s almost later in the day. You don’t really think it cares much at first. You’ve been sitting on the ground sulking all morning, barely moving from underneath the large tree you had crawled under for some shade. It was almost like the two of you had swapped places. You were so out of it by the evening, cheeks stained with tears and little to no energy to move after crying your eyes out, you had your head in your knees, about to get up when you heard the soft churn of your Nosepass beside you. It was holding something towards you on its nose, and when you finally get it off you can’t help but gasp when you notice it’s a cute little chain bracelet. You were happy and surprised. Maybe the little girl nearby wouldn’t mind her bracelet flying off her hand if she knew it made someone else happy…(maybe)?

You had woken up miserably, turning over to find your husband, Harlow, already gone, working. Within a minute of being up you felt nauseous. You pushed through and found yourself in the kitchen, with no appetite. You searched through multiple shelves trying to find something appetizing along with being fine on your stomach. Eventually you made some of your favorite tea—which even if nonnutritional—would fill you up. You sat down on the couch and turned on the AC while you drank the steaming liquid. You rubbed the back of your neck and found it wet. You scooted into Harlow’s spot on the couch since it was closest to the blowing air.

Once your tea was finished you rinsed out the cup so it didn’t stain and went back into the, now freezing, living room. You turned the AC back up to 70 and grabbed a blanket. Your head had started to hurt which resulted in you taking some medicine and falling asleep on the couch.

You woke up and still no Harlow. Usually the early shifts resulted in him being home early. Your stomach rumbled and you forced yourself up. Two steps later, your vision turned black and you had to force yourself to sit down before you inevitably passed out. Once your vision had gotten back to normal you toasted two pieces of bread and curled up on the couch. You scarfed down the two pieces of toast and had fallen back asleep almost instantly.

“Darlin’?” Harlow’s voice snapped you out of sleep. You sat up, smoothing out your hair

“Living room” Your voice squeaked, too hoarse. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine”

“You’re red” He placed a hand against your cheek, “Fever maybe” 

“I’m fine, just tired” He sat down next to you and laid your head in his lap, carding his fingers through your hair.

“You are not fine. You’re hot and red. I also imagine you’re freezing” He wasn’t wrong. You had goosebumps on your skin even though you had heat radiating off your skin and a flushed face. You buried your face in his lap and he kept just running his fingers through your hair, “You could’ve called”

“Didn’t wanna bother” You mumbled, already feeling sleepy again. 

“Don’t worry. You wouldn’t have”

“Tell me about your day” You closed your eyes, just wanting to listen to his soothing voice that somehow always made you feel better. 

“Well, I had to train a new intern… and fix the cameras in the building” You hummed, “Then, a fire broke out and almost killed said intern” Another quieter hum, “Then an ambulance came by, and they seemed to handle it alright” That was the last thing you heard before falling asleep again.

You woke up to the sound of a kettle whistling, “Harlow?”

“Making us tea Darlin’” He came back with a mug of mint tea and your favorite tea, “Should help your throat. The lymph nodes are quite swollen” He brought a finger to your neck and massaged it, feeling around, monitoring if it’d changed in size. You sat up and took a sip, feeling the way it hurt each time the warm liquid attempted to soothe it. 

“What do you think is wrong?”

“Could be a one day virus. If you wake up worse I’ll take you in. Have my head doctor treat you. Okay?”

“Okay” You mumbled, gulping down the rest of the tea. You watched as Harlow continued to sip on his favorite mint tea. He was a picky man, only accepting mint tea made from the brand that the hospital buys (Which results in him stealing from the staff room). He gets up to grab his favorite book and starts reading out loud to you as you drift back into sleep.

You wake up and you’ve been moved to bed. Harlow spooning you, his hot breath hitting your neck. You still felt cold, despite the furnace of a man beside you. You squirmed, trying to grab another blanket from the bottom on the bed and managed to wake him up.

“You okay?”

“Cold. Just want the blanket” He sat up and reached for the blanket, tucking you in.

“What time is it?”

You squinted at the clock, “2”

“Thank you. Go back to sleep” And you listened, snuggling closer and falling back asleep. 

He carefully woke you up the next morning, a gentle shake of the shoulder every few minutes until you woke.

“How are you feeling?” 

“Okay” You tried to speak but it only came out a rasp. 

“Are you sure?” He had a teasing tone and you buried your face in the pillow. Not only did you feel miserable, you couldn’t speak without whispering, “You’re coming in today. No arguments” 

You forced yourself up and managed to put on something presentable, a simple jacket and loose pants. Harlow had gotten dressed for his shift. A blue button up and red tie. He went to the coat rack and put on his white doctor jacket.

“Ready?” You just nodded, not wanting to strain your voice any further. He grabbed his briefcase and grabbed his cup with mint tea inside before leading both of you to the garage. He got you settled in first before getting in the driver’s seat and heading to the hospital. 

He pulled into a spot and helped you out, heading inside, “Doctor! I need help”

One of his favorite co-workers came up, “Harlow? Yes?”

“Will you run a scan” He nodded at you, “They don’t feel well”

“Of course. Come to room 2” You walked to room 2 as Harlow clocked in for the day, “Lay down and I’ll treat you” You laid on the bed as the doctor worked on diagnosing you. He swabbed your mouth and sent it to be tested in the lab, alongside taking a blood sample to check for any under-lying issues that may be making your sickness worse. You laid in that barren room for hours. Listening to workers talk and patients being checked in. You even thought you might’ve heard a gunshot but just chalked it up to sickness hallucinations.

Eventually Harlow and the doctor came back with a clipboard, “Is it bad” you whispered, trying to save your voice.

“Could be worse” The doctor shrugged and you looked at Harlow who read the results to himself.

“It’s a pretty easy treatment,” Harlow nodded at the other doctor.

“What do I have?” You were getting anxious, couldn’t they just tell you what you had and treat you.

“You’re Canadian,” The doctor said.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s quite common,” Harlow shrugged.

“How do you treat it?”

“Maple syrup” Both doctors spoke at the same time.

“It’s that simple?” “Yep!” They said in unison again before exiting the room. Harlow came back with a shot of maple syrup.

“Here, take this,” He handed it to you and you drank it down, though it was painful. He sat down next to you, “Should only take around 20 minutes before you feel better,” You nodded and started to feel drowsy, “Ah yes, it does have some side effects. Usually it doesn’t do this, unless you’re sick” 

Another day another adventure! Today you had to shoot people! (Digitally)... Everyone must be in pair. You havent really talked to Gummigoo since the Lighting round adventure, you started making friends outside of him and actually trying to fit in with the group , you've been doing good so far... His last words were still stuck in your head was he into you or not???? ... Wich is why you didnt approach him you feared being akward but today since people needed to be in pair you decided to pull yourself together and ask him yourself

"Heyyy... Do you want to pair up with me?" You asked faking a casual tone as if you didnt repeat that sentence 50 times in your head to make sure you didnt fuck it up.

"With pleasure Y/N" He answered tilting his hat for you

You noticed he isnt reffering to you as "mate". Usually he only called you by your circus name in serious moments so you get there's something happening between the two of you right now

There was a huge pile of guns in front of you, the countdown started... Everyone is getting ready to grab guns... And when the countdown is over Caine just decide to teleport every gun.

"Fu@%$#& Caine..."

You and Gummigoo started running, you were pretty confident in your ability to win this adventure, Gummigoo was a bandit in the Candy Canyon right? He probably knows how to handle these things.

You rushed to the Circus restaurant assuming no one would go there and it was far away enough that you'd expect to find at least one gun there.

And you did.

Only one gun.

On the entire way there

Great.

You sighed befofe saying "Looks like we'll have to make due"

"I'll handle the gun Y/N , I know my way around 'em" he responded trying to impress you before adding "But if we're gonna be a team I also need you to know how to fire those thing , may I teach you ?"

God even if you were the best at firing a gun in the entire world you'd still say

"Yes thank you.."

Gummigoo hands you the gun , you feel his fingers gently touching your hand for one second too long before he resumes

"Alright , try shooting that mug over there"

You hold the gun with 2 hands a bit anxious you're pretty much expecting yourself to fail and make a fool of yourself in front of him.. And that you did

"Oh I see the problem here Y/N , you just dont believe in yourself."

what? You look at him confused , you're pretty firing a gun is something that take skill or something lke that

"Now dont give me that look it's true ! Come on. You're thinking too much about it , try striking a pose."

Yknow what sure , you had nothing to loose anyway... You took a deep breath before striking what you tought was a cool pose fully believing you'll hit the mug , and you fucking DID?

"Huh"

"Told you" he rest a hand your shoulder affectionately making your heart race , you still manage to keep your composure before adding

"I'm just letting you know there is no way this would ever work in the real world"

"Really ?"

"Yeah."

It makes sense that Gummigoo would have this kind of knowledge now that you think about it , he is a creation of Caine so it's logical Caine would give him this kind of knowledge... Does that mean Caine would be your stepdad if you and Gummigoo started dating oh my god-

"I'm right behind you , arent I?"

Interupting you with your toughts Ragatha and Kinger enter the room , you quickly throw the gun at Gummigoo while you searched for another weapon... He admeditaly shot Kinger as he didnt wanna shoot Ragatha , he doesnt wanna shoot a Lady that has no way of defending herself right now. Lucky for you you found another gun under one of the tables while Gummigoo and Kinger were shooting each other , they were pretty ties due to their understanding of how to shoot properly in the circus having both loose one life but what Kinger doesnt have is an armed ally you shot Kinger while he wasnt paying attention to you reducing him to one life. He quickly shouted

"RETREAT"

Before fleeing taking Ragatha with him

"Woah-"

You and Gummigoo obviously ran to get Kinger , Gummigoo unfortunately lost all of his bullets when he was shooting Kinger earlier so it was up to you to get gim quick , with all your might you aimed at a corner of the room so that the bullet ricochet and touch Kinger , eliminating him from the game

"We'll give you 5 minutes sheila... Dont let us see you again"

You nodded as it felt kinda crual to shoot Ragatha with how sweet of a person she is and since she doesnt even have a gun to fight back

"Thank you two"

She bowed gracefully before running away as fast as she possibly could

"You did a good job there..." Gummigoo complimented you , you could definitly see affection in his eyes as he said that and it made you understandably blush a bit but who wouldnt ? You wanted to kiss him so fucking bad right now...

"Couldnt have done it without you"

Wich was litteraly true since he's the one to have reduced Kinger to one life and taught you how to even fire those thing but he still insisted

"You're a natural"

Alot of time passed and you didnt really find anyone , the circus is pretty big so you imagined it was likely cause of that. You mostly picked up spared bullets as you were both already pretty comfortable with the guns you already did have. After alot of time (wich you absolutely didnt mind since you were with Gummigoo just chatting and liking each others company) you finally found Jax and Pomni

"Oooh look it's the lovebirds !~"

There's something with Jax tha-

"Time to take of their wings !"

Pomni is acting different you tought to yourself butyouhadnotimetoponder- what suceeded was a fight that could only be discribed as "epic" bullet flied everywhere everyone was constantly backing their teammates up and since everyone in this fight has a true understanding on how the circus work the fight was extremely tied but ultimately guess who won ? Thats right : Gummigoo and you

During the showdown Pomni said "Once we defeated you we'll have officially won the game ! Muahahaha !" So this meant you won the adventure... Gummigoo quickly grabbed you into a hug you were both bursting with happiness, it was just an adventure Yeah but you really both outdid yourself to win it you both felt so proud of each other and yourself , you hugged Gummigoo back tightly before responding without thinking

"God I fuc#$*€ love you"

You realized what you just said but eh. Cant do anything about it now cant you?... You felt your heart race a 1000s miles an hour you were filled witt both excitement and anxiety...Without a word Gummigoo just slightly and slowly raised your chin and approached his face to yours but stopping right before his mouth meet yours , you nodded giving him permission to kiss you...

The kiss that follow isnt sensual by any means, it's a very heartwarming first kiss , Gummigoo doesnt have actual lips he's an aligator after all but despite that the kiss feels physically good , his body being candy his mouth is very soft.

You both pulled out.... He was blushing like crazy and so did you, you felt overwhelm with hapiness and he was looking at you like he just won the lottery

"Are we...?" You asked a bit shy despite what just happend

"Partners?" He complete your sentence quickly " I reckon we are... Unless you-"

"We are partners then" you interupted him cause of COURSE you wanted this , you've been dreaming about it since you guys met you would not want anything more than for you and him to be dating...

"I love you Y/N"

"I love you too"

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

"Wow I cant believd I'm finally dating Gummigoo" Y/N said with joy

Episode 7 8 happend.

You probably wonder why I havent been writing lately , and the answer is simple : I did not feel like it. But right now I am going back to being crazy obessed about Gummigoo so you guys are getting fed yet again. I noticed ever since I published my last fanfic 2 people went to ask other people to write Gummigoo fanfics so I'm guessing you guys missed me huh? If not then I'll cry just so yknow.

Hell did not stop for you. It did not soften. It only opened its mouth and swallowed you whole.

You had been there three days when the sky split open.

At first, you thought it was thunder, until the clouds tore apart and white light poured through, too bright, too clean, too beautiful for a place like this. People around you started running before you understood why. Screams rose from every street, doors slammed, windows shattered, and above it all came the wingbeats, dozens of them, cutting through the smoke like knives.

Angels descended.

They did not look the way you had imagined angels should look. They were not gentle. They were not warm.

They laughed as they hunted, their halos glowing above masked faces, weapons flashing silver in their hands as sinners scattered through the streets like frightened animals. You pressed yourself into the narrow space between two buildings, knees drawn to your chest, both hands clamped over your mouth because crying too loudly felt dangerous.

One of them found you anyway.

The angel landed at the mouth of the alley, blade resting lazily over one shoulder, her head tilting as she noticed you trembling in the shadows. For one foolish heartbeat, you thought she might help. Something in you, some last little piece of the child you had been before all of this, wanted to believe that someone from Heaven would look at you and understand there had been a mistake.

Instead, she laughed.

“Well, look at that,” she said, stepping closer, her voice bright with amusement. “They’re letting kids in now?”

You could not move.

Her mask angled down toward you, and though you could not see her eyes, you felt her looking at every inch of you, taking in the horns, the tail curled tightly around your leg, the fear you could not hide.

“A disgusting little murderer,” she continued, and the words struck harder than the weapon in her hand ever could have. “What did you do, huh? Kill someone? Had to be something good to end up down here this young.”

Your throat closed.

“I didn’t—”

She laughed again, loud enough that a few nearby sinners hiding in broken doorways turned their heads.

“Oh, don’t bother. Heaven doesn’t make mistakes.”

The sentence sank into you like cold water.

Heaven doesn’t make mistakes.

When the angel finally moved on, distracted by another sinner bolting across the street, you stayed frozen in the alley with your hands pressed to your mouth and your heart beating so hard it made you sick. You did not even notice the sinners watching until their whispers started spreading from one ruined doorway to the next.

“That’s the kid who killed someone.”

“A kid?”

“Guess evil starts early.”

“Wonder who it was.”

You ran before any of them could come closer.

After that, the whispers followed you everywhere.

In markets, in alleys, outside clubs where music poured into the streets, strangers looked down at you and lowered their voices, not always quietly enough. You learned to keep your head down. You learned to move quickly. You learned that if someone offered food with too kind a smile, you should not take it, because kindness in Hell always seemed to come with teeth.

The angel’s words stayed louder than all of them. Heaven doesn’t make mistakes. You had killed someone. That meant you were bad. That was why you were here.

By the time Fizzarolli first saw you, you were sitting on the curb outside Ozzie’s, knees pulled to your chest, watching the glowing entrance from the other side of the street. The club was alive with music, laughter, bright signs, and bodies moving in and out like the whole building had a heartbeat of its own. It should have scared you, and maybe it did, but the light was warm, and for a little while, sitting beneath it made the street feel less empty.

Fizz noticed you because you were the only person outside Ozzie’s who wasn’t trying to get in.

He was leaving through the side entrance, still half in costume, makeup sharp beneath the neon glow, mechanical limbs moving with easy precision as he spun a keyring around one finger. He was laughing at something one of the stagehands had said, bright and loud, until his gaze drifted across the street and landed on you.

His smile faltered just a little.

You looked too small for the curb. Too still. Hell was full of kids who learned quickly how to be loud, cruel, fast, anything that kept them from being crushed under someone else’s boot, but you sat there as though every noise around you pressed you deeper into yourself.

Fizz crossed the street before he could talk himself out of it.

“Hey,” he said, crouching a few feet away from you, his voice light, his grin returning like a curtain lifting onstage. “You waiting for the world’s worst babysitter, or are you just really into loitering outside extremely classy establishments?”

You stared at him.

No laugh. No smile. Not even confusion.

Fizz blinked, then leaned slightly closer, one hand pressed to his chest in exaggerated offense.

“Wow. Nothing? Tough crowd. Usually I at least get a pity snort.”

You looked down at your knees.

He studied you a moment longer, the joke fading from his face, not because he was annoyed, but because something about your silence made the old instincts under his skin go still. He knew what it looked like when someone did not laugh because they were scared to make noise. He knew what it looked like when a body expected punishment for taking up space.

So he stopped performing. His voice softened.

“You got somewhere to go, kid?”

Your fingers tightened around the fabric of your sleeve.

Fizz waited.

The club roared behind him, laughter spilling through the door when someone stepped outside, but he kept his attention on you, not pushing, not reaching, not doing any of the things that usually made you flinch.

Finally, you shook your head.

Fizz exhaled quietly through his nose, glancing toward the street, toward the sinners watching from a distance with too much curiosity. A few of them were whispering already, and when one of them muttered something about “the little murderer,” your shoulders curled inward so fast Fizz’s expression sharpened.

He looked back at you. You had heard it too.

“What are they talking about?” he asked, carefully.

You did not answer. Fizz’s jaw shifted, his smile disappearing completely now.

“Okay,” he said, standing, then offering you one mechanical hand without moving it too close. “How about we get you out of the street first, and then nobody has to talk until you want to?”

You stared at the hand.

It was not like any hand you had ever seen. Long, jointed, bright, ending in fingers that looked too delicate for something made of metal. You wondered if touching it would feel cold. You wondered if he would grab you if you tried.

He seemed to understand, because he lowered it slowly.

“Or you can just walk next to me. No touching. Totally allowed. I’m a big supporter of not getting grabbed by strangers.”

That made you look at him. Not smile, exactly. But look. Fizz counted it as a win.

He led you through the side entrance, past startled employees who knew better than to question him when his expression looked like that, and into a quieter hallway behind the club. The music softened here, becoming a pulse through the walls rather than a roar. Fizz found a break room with an old couch, a vending machine, and a table covered in half-empty coffee cups, then rummaged through a cabinet until he found a sealed snack pack and a bottle of water.

He placed both on the table, then sat on the floor several feet away, crossing his legs.

You watched him with suspicion.

Fizz pointed at the snack.

“Yours if you want it. If not, I will bravely sacrifice myself and eat it later.”

You waited a long time before reaching for it. He did not comment when your hands shook.

For several minutes, neither of you spoke. You ate slowly, like you were afraid someone would take the food back if you moved too fast, and Fizz felt something heavy settle behind his ribs. Anger came easily to him, sometimes too easily, but this anger was quieter, older, the kind that had nowhere clean to go.

When you finished, he leaned his head back against the couch.

“I’m Fizz,” he said. “Fizzarolli if I’m in trouble, famous if someone’s paying, annoying if you ask Blitzø, which you shouldn’t, because he’s full of garbage opinions.”

A pause. Then, barely above a whisper, you gave him your name.

“I’m Y/N”

Fizz repeated it once, gently, like he was making sure he had it right.

“Nice to meet you.”

You looked away.

“You shouldn’t be nice to me.”

Fizz’s face changed. Just slightly.

“Why’s that?”

Your mouth trembled, and you pressed your lips together hard, as though the words were trying to crawl out against your will. He did not rush you. He only sat there, still and patient, which somehow made it harder not to speak.

“Because I’m bad.”

Fizz stared at you.

The hallway beyond the door hummed with distant music and laughter, the kind of life that never seemed to care about anything happening quietly in forgotten rooms. Your fingers worried at the edge of the snack wrapper until it crinkled between your hands.

“That angel said Heaven doesn’t make mistakes,” you whispered. “She said I’m here because I killed someone.”

Fizz became very still.

You did not look at him as you spoke. Your eyes stayed fixed on the floor, wide and unfocused, like you were seeing somewhere else entirely.

“And they all heard. Everyone heard. They keep saying it. They keep looking at me like...” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard. “Like I’m worse than everybody else.”

Fizz’s hands curled slowly against his knees.

He had heard plenty about Heaven. He had heard enough to know their judgment could be sharp, clean, and merciless, the kind that cut without asking why someone had been bleeding in the first place. But hearing it from a child, from someone whose feet barely reached the floor when sitting on the couch, made something hot and furious rise in his throat.

Still, when he spoke, he kept his voice gentle.

“Did you?”

You flinched. Fizz hated himself for asking, but he had to know how to answer you properly. Your eyes filled before the tears fell.

“I didn’t mean to.”

The words came out small, broken, dragged from somewhere so deep they seemed to hurt your chest on the way out.

Fizz said nothing. That was all the permission you needed, or maybe all the permission you had been waiting for since you arrived.

“They hurt me,” you whispered, and the room seemed to shrink around the words. “All the time. I tried to be good. I tried to be quiet. I tried to do everything right, but it didn’t matter, and one day they got so mad, and I got scared, and there was something on the table, and I just...” You squeezed your eyes shut, tears slipping down your cheeks now. “I just wanted them to stop.”

Fizz did not move. He barely breathed.

“I didn’t plan it,” you said quickly, like you had said it before to people who hadn’t cared, like you were trying to defend yourself in a trial that had already ended. “I didn’t want to be bad. I didn’t want anyone to die. I just wanted them to stop hurting me.”

Your hands had started shaking harder.

“They said I should’ve just taken it.”

Fizz’s eyes lifted sharply.

“Who said that?”

“The angels.” Your voice broke on the word. “When I got here, during the purge, one of them said Heaven doesn’t make mistakes, and if I killed someone, then I belonged here. She looked at me like I was worse than him.”

Fizz’s expression went blank. Not empty but controlled. Dangerously controlled.

You hugged yourself tightly, your small fingers digging into your sleeves.

“Maybe I am,” you said, barely audible. “Maybe if I were good, I would’ve let it happen. Maybe good people don’t fight back.”

Fizz pushed himself to his feet so quickly that you startled, but he immediately raised both hands, palms open, forcing himself to slow down. His anger was not for you. It could never be for you. But it roared through him anyway, loud enough that for one moment, all he could imagine was finding that angel, finding anyone who had looked at you and decided a dead abuser mattered more than the child who survived him.

He turned away, dragging a hand down his face, breathing hard.

“Fizz?” you whispered.

The sound of your voice brought him back.

He looked over his shoulder, and all the rage in his face softened so fast it almost hurt. You were staring up at him like you expected him to hate you now, like telling the truth had only made you more certain that the world would turn away.

Fizz crossed back slowly and crouched in front of you, not too close, never too close unless you chose it.

“Listen to me,” he said, and his voice shook, not with uncertainty, but with the effort of holding back everything too loud for you to carry. “You did what you had to do to protect yourself. That does not make you a monster.”

Your face crumpled.

“But I killed—”

“You had to, you defended yourself,” he interrupted, firmer now, though still gentle. “Those are not the same thing.”

Tears slipped faster down your cheeks.

“They said I’m bad.”

“They were wrong.”

“Heaven—”

“Can kiss my entire ass.”

Your eyes widened.

Fizz pointed at you, serious despite the words.

“And I mean that professionally.”

For the first time, a sound escaped you that might have become a laugh if it hadn’t broken into a sob instead.

Fizz’s face softened completely.

“There it is,” he murmured, quieter. “There you are.”

You covered your face with both hands and cried.

Not the silent crying you had learned to do in alleys, not the careful tears you swallowed before anyone could notice, but real crying, messy and loud and too big for your little body. Fizz stayed right there on the floor in front of you, letting you sob without telling you to stop, without shushing you, without looking uncomfortable because your pain had become inconvenient.

When you finally reached for him, he moved instantly.

His arms wrapped around you with a care that made your chest ache, mechanical hands settling lightly against your back as you buried your face against his shoulder and clung to him like you were afraid the room might disappear. Fizz held you steady, one hand rubbing small circles between your shoulder blades, the other braced carefully behind your head.

“You’re not bad,” he said into your hair. “You hear me? You’re not bad.”

You shook against him.

“You were scared. You were hurt. You were a kid who should’ve been protected, and nobody did their damn job.” His voice thickened, and he swallowed before continuing. “So you protected yourself.”

You cried harder.

Fizz closed his eyes.

In Hell, people heard a child had killed someone and decided that was the end of the story. Heaven looked at a life and saw only the final act, not the years leading to it, not the hands that had cornered you, not the terror that had made survival look like sin. Fizz knew something about being judged by the part of you that survived. He knew what it meant for people to point at damage and call it ugliness.

He held you tighter.

“Monsters like hurting people,” he said softly. “They enjoy it. They chase it. You didn’t do that. You got out.”

You sniffled against his shoulder.

“But I’m in Hell.”

“Yeah,” Fizz said, glancing around the break room with a humorless little smile. “Place sucks. Terrible décor. Worse traffic. Way too many people with opinions.”

You made a wet, broken little sound.

He leaned back just enough to look at you.

“But being here doesn’t mean you’re what they said you are.”

You stared at him through tear-blurred eyes.

“How do you know?”

Fizz’s throat tightened.

Because he had seen enough cruelty to recognize its shape. Because he knew guilt when it sat in someone’s body like a second skeleton. Because bad people did not tremble over the harm they had caused while insisting they only wanted the pain to stop. Because a monster would not ask if they were one with that much terror in their voice.

Instead of saying all of that, he tapped gently against the center of your chest with one metal finger.

“Because you’re still worried about it.”

You looked confused.

Fizz smiled sadly.

“Bad people don’t sit around scared they’re bad, kid. Not like this.”

You went quiet.

The music outside shifted into something slower, the bass soft through the walls, while the break room light buzzed faintly overhead. For the first time since you had arrived in Hell, the silence did not feel like something waiting to punish you.

Fizz reached for a napkin from the table and handed it to you.

“Here. Very fancy tissue. Top-tier establishment.”

You took it and wiped your face.

He pretended not to notice the way your hands still shook.

After a while, you whispered, “What happens now?”

Fizz sat back on the floor, crossing his legs again like the question was easy, like the world had not just cracked open between you.

“Well, first, you’re gonna drink some water because crying is dehydrating and I am very medically qualified on account of being dramatic all the time.” He pushed the bottle gently toward you. “Then we’re gonna figure out food, because that snack was pathetic, and after that, I’m calling Ozzie.”

You stiffened.

Fizz noticed immediately.

“Not because you’re in trouble,” he said. “Because you need a safe place, and Ozzie has money, space, and the emotional range of a very protective furnace when someone messes with kids.”

You stared at him.

“Will he be mad?”

“At you? No.” Fizz’s smile sharpened a little. “At everyone else? Probably.”

That seemed to settle something in you.

You drank the water slowly.

Fizz stayed with you the whole time.

By the end of the night, you were curled on the break room couch beneath a ridiculous feathered coat Fizz had stolen from the costume department because “blankets are for amateurs,” your eyes heavy, your cheeks still blotchy from crying. Fizz sat on the floor beside the couch, back against it, keeping watch like the entire city might personally try something if he looked away for more than five seconds.

Ozzie arrived sometime after midnight.

You woke just enough to hear the door open and a deep voice lower immediately.

“Fizz?”

“Quiet,” Fizz hissed. “Kid’s sleeping.”

A pause.

Then softer footsteps.

You cracked your eyes open and saw someone enormous standing near the door, all glowing eyes and careful hands, his expression changing as he looked from you to Fizz and understood there was more to the story than a stray child needing a couch.

Ozzie said nothing loud.

He only crouched, somehow making himself smaller despite being impossible to ignore, and asked, “Hey, little one. You hungry?”

You did not answer at first.

Fizz looked over his shoulder at you.

“It’s okay,” he said. “He’s safe.”

You believed him because he said it like a promise.

The next few days did not fix everything.

Hell was still Hell. The whispers did not disappear all at once. The nightmares did not stop because someone had finally told you they were wrong. You still flinched at raised voices, still froze when strangers stood too close, still woke with your hands clenched in the blankets and your heart racing like you were back in that place, back in that moment, back with no way out.

But now, when it happened, someone was there.

Fizz showed up with breakfast that had too much sugar, sat beside you without asking questions, and talked about whatever ridiculous thing had happened backstage until your breathing steadied. Ozzie made sure no one came near you unless you wanted them to. Staff learned quickly that gossiping about “the kid who killed someone” anywhere near Fizz was an excellent way to get screamed at by a clown with extendable limbs and no patience for cruelty disguised as curiosity.

And slowly, very slowly, you began to exist again.

Not happily, not all at once, but in small pieces.

You learned which hallways were quiet. You learned that Ozzie’s office had a corner where nobody bothered you. You learned that Fizz could make three different funny voices during one story, four if he was trying too hard, and that sometimes he pretended to trip over his own legs just to see whether you would react.

For weeks, you didn’t laugh.

Then one afternoon, Fizz balanced a spoon on his nose, declared himself “the greatest spoon-based performer in the Lust Ring,” and immediately sneezed so hard the spoon flew across the room and hit a wall.

The laugh escaped before you could stop it.

Small. Rusty. Gone almost immediately.

Fizz froze. Ozzie, sitting across the room, froze too.

You looked terrified for half a second, like you had done something wrong, until Fizz threw both arms into the air and gasped.

“Audience approval! Finally! I was dying up here!”

You pressed both hands over your mouth, but the smile had already happened.

Fizz pretended not to look emotional about it.

He failed.

That night, when the club had quieted and most of the lights were dim, you sat beside him on the edge of the stage, your legs dangling above the empty floor. The room looked different without the crowd, softer somehow, the glitter and velvet and gold no longer performing for anyone. Fizz leaned back on his hands, staring up at the ceiling rigging, while you picked at the hem of your sleeve.

After a long silence, you asked the question that had never really left you.

“Fizz?”

“Yeah, kid?”

Your voice came out so quietly he almost missed it.

“Am I bad?”

Fizz turned his head toward you.

You did not look at him. Your eyes stayed on your knees, your body braced for the answer even after everything, even after the food and the couch and the feathered coat and the jokes and the way he had never once looked at you like the angel had.

Fizz sat up.

“No,” he said, firm enough that the word filled the empty club. “You are not bad.”

Your fingers tightened in your sleeve.

“But what if—”

“No.”

“But Heaven—”

“No.”

“But I—”

“Fought back,” Fizz said, softer now, leaning closer until his shoulder gently bumped yours. “You had to.”

You swallowed hard.

“What if people still say it?”

“Then they answer to me.”

A tiny pause.

“And Ozzie.”

Another pause.

“And honestly probably Ozzie first, because he’s taller and scarier when he gets quiet.”

You looked up at him.

Fizz smiled, but it wasn’t the stage smile, not bright, not fake, not the one he used to make a room love him. It was smaller. Realer.

“You don’t have to prove you deserve to be protected,” he said. “You were always supposed to be protected.”

Your eyes filled again, but this time the tears did not feel sharp.

Fizz nudged your shoulder gently.

“And while we’re at it, you also don’t have to be funny, loud, useful, adorable, though unfortunately you are, or good at anything to earn a place here.”

You sniffled.

“I’m not adorable.”

“Wrong. Terrible opinion. We’ll work on that.”

A quiet laugh slipped out of you.

Fizz’s eyes softened.

“There it is again.”

You leaned into him slowly, giving him time to move away if he wanted to, but he only lifted one arm and tucked it around your shoulders, pulling you close with the easy warmth of someone who had already decided you were staying.

The club remained quiet around you.

For the first time, quiet did not feel like fear.

It felt like rest.

You sat there for a long time with Fizz beside you, his arm secure around your shoulders, the empty stage stretching beneath your feet like a place where something new might begin. You were still in Hell. You still carried the memories. You still had bad days waiting for you, and there would always be people cruel enough to mistake survival for sin.

But when the old question whispered inside your head, when the angel’s voice tried to crawl back in and tell you Heaven did not make mistakes, another voice answered now, louder, warmer, unwavering.

No.

You were not bad.

You were a child who defended themselves.

And for the first time since arriving in Hell, that felt like something you were allowed to be.

ʜᴇʟʟᴀᴠᴇʀsᴇ (you're tagged in everything Hazbin Hotel & Helluva Boss)

@fruttiextra @boldlyenchantingfox22 @k3nnytheg00z3

𝑭𝒊𝒛𝒛𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒊

Your shoes squeak against the marble flooring of the hallways, a rhythmic pattern following every step you take.

“Hi — !!!”

“Yoo — you still coming to my party Thursday?”

“Your hair clip is so cute today, can I borrow it sometime?”

Relentless chatter fills the hall as you make your way to class. To say you were a “popular kid” would be an overstatement(in your words). You like to say you're more of a token gay, you’ve lived in Forks your whole life and as you developed through puberty you found it easier to express yourself and kill people with kindness than subject yourself to a bigot's box.

Of course, you’ve gotten the occasional slur thrown at you or snickers from behind in the lunch line, but ironically when people are confronted with facing their actions they become a lot more shy than the persona they were displaying.

“Good morning —, on time as usual.” Your biology teacher, Mr. Molina greets you with a small smile. You return the smile with a lopsided grin slipping a pastel sticker on his desk as you pass by, a common trinket you've given to numerous people throughout your high school years.

Making your way to your designated seat you greet a few more people before the bell rings. To your left, a small voice breaks the silence in the classroom.

“Hey…uhm, — right? Do you have a pencil I can borrow?”

You don’t remember her name immediately, what was it..Bailey? Brielle? Beau..? Bella! That’s right, Bella, the newer student whom you haven’t had the chance to talk to yet, she's always glued to the brooding Cullens, you try to avoid them in the sweetest way possible, they don't seem like a crowd you want to mess with.

“Oh of course!” You fish through your colorful pencil case before finally finding a blue-and-pink mechanical pencil, accompanied by a matching resin Sanrio character dangling at the top.

“...Thanks” she says barely above a whisper. It was almost comically how her dark brown and greenish clothes contrasted with the shining pencil in her hand. You try not to notice but her aura seems to have been dimmed due to the space on her left, it was a fairly sunny day, one of the few ones you ever get in Forks. And the Cullens never show on sunny days, rumors trickle through the grapevine as to why but nothing has ever been confirmed.

A loud throat clear ends the interaction sharply, all eyes focus towards the front. “Alright class, I won't take up too much of your time but as you know we're nearing the end of winter, and spring break is right around the corner. Starting a new unit would do more harm than good so I would like for you all to get into partners—” a loud groan fills the room, an awkward smile pastes your face. Forks is a more introverted and secluded space, partner work is usually a no—go.

“I would like!— for you all to partner up and write a paper on any chapter we have previously learned. This will be due the day you come back from break, giving you slower workers a good two weeks to get all your writing sorted and turned in. Anyone absent has been subjected to automatic partnership with whoever doesn't have a partner by the end of class.”

You notice a nervous look wash over Bella’s face, there were only two people absent meaning working with Edward was immediately off the table.

“Hey, Bella? Did you wan—” Before you could finish your statement multiple students desperately rushed towards you.

“Hey, —, let's work together, yeah?”

“—, please work with me! You're the only person I know enough in this class”

“—, over here!!”

“I'm going to slime myself out if we don't work together!!!”

You were a fairly smart student, but this was just overkill if anything you're more personality than brains! “Uhm, sorry guys, I was going to ask Bella to work with me. Maybe next time!” A few whines and groans filled the air surrounding the crowd before they dispersed to find a new partner.

“You want to work with me?” You flinched slightly from the voice beside you, she didn't sound upset that you immediately used her as a shield but she also didn't seem as pleased as you had hoped, more suspicious.

“Yeah! We haven't had much time to talk because you're usually with your boyfriend, he's your boyfriend right? You seem a bit on the shy side so I was hesitant to approach you.”

A faint blush dusts her cheeks at the mention of the pale man. “Y..Yeah, you could say that, we haven't really put a label on it yet. You've already told the majority of the class that we're partners so I guess we're partners?”

A small cringe makes its way to your mouth, you internally scold yourself for indirectly forcing Bella to work with you.

“Right, so what should we focus on first?”

—

By the end of biology you and Bella both decide to meet at the local library to get immediate feedback on each other's writing. The faster you both finish the project the faster you can go back to being strangers(or so Bella thinks). You leave for your next class with a quiet and polite wave, accommodating Bella’s social skills.

The day slips into a disorientating fuzz. The sunny morning has long gone into a now gray coat of wool covering the once vibrant blue sky. The final bell rings and you slowly pack up your materials. Students fill the hallways escaping through every exit but as you make your way to your locker and eventually the main hallway you can't shake that you've forgotten something, …

Bella! Oh Crumbs you have got to be the worst new friend ever! You pick up your pace, you really hope she doesn't think of you as an unreliable partner for this, in your defense biology was first period, almost seven hours ago and you forgot to set a reminder! You're a busy guy!

Your vision slightly blurs when you make it to the main entrance, huffing you frantically look around the sea of familiar faces. There you soon spot an uncomfortable standing bella. You stumble over to her before you can notice she's in an awkward conversation with a shabby-haired underclassman.

“Bella! Hey— I'm so sorry I totally almost forgot, I promise it wasn't on purpose…” You place your hand on her shoulder, your excuse floats unheard in the air as you suddenly become very aware of the thick tension.

“Bella he’s no good for you!”

“How would you know that Jacob you've hardly given him a chance.”

“I don't need to give him a chance when I already know his kind like the back of my hand; they're dangerous.”

“Oh, you're such a hypocrite!”

“And you aren't?!”

The boy stood at the bottom of the school's stairs, motorcycle behind him, he looked slightly sweaty and distressed. From their bickering, this doesn't seem to be a first. If they weren’t obviously talking about Edward Cullen you’d assume the boy was somewhat of a bigot. You do your best to go unseen but wearing all pastel in a gray town makes you stick out like a lightsaber.

“Who is he?” Shit, Jacob’s voice is sharp as a blade and filled with venom. His gaze is dark and possessive and you almost shrink behind Bella from the way he stares holes into your hand that connects you to her.

“No one, or at least no one you need to be concerned about. Who I'm involved with has nothing to do with you Jacob.” Her words cut the tension in half, his gaze snaps towards her pleadingly. “Bella—”

“Let’s go, —” She makes her way towards her old pickup truck, not even bothered to glance at the boy as you both pass. You try to ignore the gaze that follows you both till you're out of the school parking lot and out of view, down the road.

—

You lie awake in bed late at night recalling your day, you try to not think about the mysterious boy that you've encountered but it’s hard not to when he’s one of the most alluring men you’ve come across in a while. His golden tan skin that subtly glittens in the spring sky. For an underclassman, he was well built, chest heaving under his breaths, arms flexing from anger.

—And his face, God, he was beautiful— even under that sharp gaze his eyes held a passion you don't think you've seen in any other bland man from Forks, it held a clumsy but direct aura. His jaw clenched, flexing under the skin, cheeks red from anger. His slightly chapped lips were wet from his heated debate.

To say you were a lost gay with no play was an understatement. You were a friendly guy but there's a reason you call yourself the token gay.

Flipping over to your side you hug a pillow close to your chest. Your stuffed animals stare mockingly at you, taunting you for being this worked up over a boy you could only attach a first name to. A familiar pulse snaps you out of your daydream, you dare not look down at the perpetrator inside choosing to groan loudly into your pillow while tossing in your bed.

You huff as you settle for a starfish position, pajamas disheveled against your sheets, your face felt warm and your palms clamped under a feeling you dreaded.

—You’d wished Jacob was possessive over you rather than Bella.

“Fuck.”

—

The silence that filled the library was almost unbearable due to your running thoughts. Bella sat to your write typing away about the evolution of humans and prehistoric times, or something. You gulp staring down at your empty paper, you weren't being a very good project partner and you knew it. You couldn't focus, you knew Bella knew, you also knew the other pair of eyes knew as well.

“You haven’t written anything down in the 30 minutes we’ve been here, are you not feeling well?” Edward, he wasn't very pleased when he found out you and Bella were working together. You don't blame him, it seemed like every male who was within ten feet of Bella was naturally drawn to her.

All it took was one unpleasant trip in your mind late at night for him to realize you were absolutely no threat. Loneliness as a queer man will do that to you no one told him to pop in while you were thinking of a hot and heavy make-out session between you and Jacob!!

The next time you saw him, he looked at you slightly disturbed, pitiful, and a bit disappointed. He knew you liked Jacob but he’d also known Jacob was hooked on Bella. (not that he’d ever get her)

“S—sorry, I'm just a bit out of focus, I'm gonna run out and get a coffee. Do you guys want anything?” You rigidly get out of your seat chair whining under you cause a few heads to turn. “No, we're all good, take your time.” You smile at Bella, she’s been progressively understanding the longer you have worked together, not something you'd expect the first time you'd seen her.

The cafe was small, tucked in next to the school. The atmosphere was calming and quiet, you place your order and wait by the counter, feet tapping. Your mind was racing, what was the smoothest way to ask your new friend if their friend who happened to have a crush on them happened to be gay, and completely unrelated was willing to give them your number?

You sigh and rub your hand over your face, you feel your cheeks warm at just the thought of even attempting to tell Bella, you’d only known her a few weeks and didn't want her to close you off after your relationship was just getting closer.

Your hand slowly runs down your face only to be harshly removed by a warm hand gripping your wrist.

“Who the hell are you and how do you know Bella?!”

To say you were taken aback was an understatement, he was a lot more handsome up close, his eyes held the same threatening gaze as before, his lips a bright red from the cold weather. His grip was tight and you couldn't help but wonder what it’d be like to be pinned down while he thrusted in and out of—

“What, too good to speak? I said, "Who are you?!” Your eyes snap from his lips to his chocolate eyes, if this were a cartoon your face would probably be a glowing red while steam came from your ears.

“I—...uhm I’m Bella’s—” His grip tightened, “Bella’s what?” His tone was dominating and intimidating. Before you could respond your order was called.

“S—sorry that's my drink…” You quietly explained, snapping your wrist out of his hand rubbing the bruising skin, he was much taller than you, not to mention bigger, you’d wonder what Bella had done to attract such a man.

You made careful steps to not provoke him further but he was relentless. He followed you from the cafe all the way to the library door. Just before you could reach the handle he jerked your shoulder spinning you around. “You never answered my question.” He spat, “You never gave me a chance.” You responded awkwardly.

“Listen, I’m just Bella’s biology partner; I'm not interested in dating her or anything you can calm down.” You didn't mean to sound as harsh as you did but hearing him this defensive over a girl who’d already had a boyfriend made you quite bitter.

“Yeah, that's what they all say, you listen here cause I'm only going to tell you this once, Bella’s off limits, she's not yours to peer over and definitely not on the market, so stay away from her.” He points a finger accusingly against your chest, the other hand gripped in a tight fist, you wouldn't lie, that hurt. Figuratively and literally, this guy had some sharp nails.

“And she’s yours? Last time I checked she doesn't even like you, not to mention she has a whole boyfriend?? I don't know what kind of three-party relationship you guys have going on but trust, I'm really not interested in being with her.” The words shoot out of your mouth like bullets. You grip his finger, eyebrow furrowed.

“Yeah, that's what they all say before they're suddenly confessing their undying love for her and become inseparable from her—”

“Dude im gay!” The silence is heavy, the words slipped from your mouth before you could catch them. You weren't expecting to come out to a stranger you were having wet dreams about but you didn't know any other way to get him off your tail.

He stands unfazed fists clenching and unclenching, he sighs before opening his mouth. “So people can't be bi anymore?” You were floored, you threw your head covering your mouth as you tried to contain the laughter that threatened to escape.

“What?! I'm being serious, stop laughing.” You huff as you bend over resting your hands on your knees, you tilt your head to look up at him. “You're impossible, no I'm not bisexual, and I'm not interested in Bella. Really, we're just lab partners.”

He stares down at your cheeks a warm red, he is embarrassed. “Whatever…” He huffed pulling the library door open and walking in. “Hey wait up!” You quickly recover realizing he intended to stick around.

—

“Jacob? What are you doing here?” Bella looked up from her computer. “I thought I smelled a dog,” Edward says smirkingly, leaning back. To your surprise, Jacob lets out what almost sounds similar to a growl.

“Do you have a dog, Jacob?” You say confused looking between the three people, you didn't know him that well but you also didn't think he smelled of anything. He flinches back looking a bit frantic, “Uhm…something like that.”

“Hm, okay!” You choose not to push and pull your seat out to begin writing the outline of your essay.

Time seems to fly by after Jacob arrives because you all flow into a conversation, more bickering on Jacob and Edward's part but you were learning the dynamic of their “relationship”, Jacob seemed to yearn and crave Bella’s affection while Edward seemed to gain it more naturally. You feel a bit out of place but Bella always finds ways to rope you back in.

By the time you’ve finished writing your rough draft, it was already dark outside, “I think we're done for the day.” You say leaning back stretching your arms out. “You barely did anything,” Edward says snarkly, “well, until a certain someone showed up.” His remark is short-lived as Bella elbows him. Jacob looks a bit confused but glares at Edward due to Bella’s reaction

Of course they knew, why wouldn't they? Every time Jacob talked you looked at him like a lovesick puppy desperate for attention. You meant to hide it better but it was hard when your mind immediately wanted to keep tabs on everything he said.

“Whatever, man, what about your project? I haven't seen you write a thing since we got here?” You lean forward resting your chin on your palm, Edward matches your energy and replies just as smart. “I finished it already, smartass.” You shoot back gripping the table, “No way!”

“He works fast,” Bella says, grabbing her bag and getting up. As she does both boys seem to follow, leaving you the only one still sitting. You quickly follow realizing they weren't going to wait for you. “Hey hold on!”

—

The next few weeks are a blur. Jacob continues to join in on you and Bella's project sessions, Edward joins as well, obviously. Jacob claims it's to keep an eye on you and Bella no matter how many times you try to explain it, he’s naturally possessive towards her. Whenever you get a bit too close to her a sharp “growl” slips from his throat, or at least that's what you say.

Unbeknownst to you whenever you aren't looking his gaze lingers just a bit too long, his mouth dries whenever he realizes he wasn't growling at you but Bella. His cheeks flush whenever you smile at him.

“Fuck…” He whispers looking at you.

—

“There's a bonfire tonight, you should come, uhm Bella will be there.” You and Jacob were alone, you ran into each other at the grocery store and decided to catch up, it’d been a while since you’d last seen him, he stopped meeting with you and Bella —blamed it on getting busy with his new job.

The air was awkward but in a comforting way, it had been the first time you two were truly alone. (in a friendly way)

Your gaze dropped a little, your heart had fluttered when he invited you, it seemed almost like a “meet my family” date, then he mentioned Bella, and those thoughts faded. You felt stupid for thinking anything romantic would come out of a bonfire but you couldn't help your little heart that yearned for something more.

You hesitate for a second before looking up at him, “I’d love to, send me the information i’ll be there!” you look up to see he's already staring at you, you try not to look down at his lips you really do but you couldn't resist, your eyes flicker down to his lips and for a second the world around you two seems like a blur, all you could focus on was the way his breathing staggered under your gaze lips slightly watered.

Neither of you say anything you hold each other's gaze your bodies feel weightless as you both begin to lean in, his lips are only a nod away from your as your noses bump into each other and slide into place, you can feel his body heat against you as his chest meets yours neither of you break eye contact, his eyes start to droop and just before you make contact—

“hmph?!—” Your hand clamps over his mouth as you launch yourself back. “Jacob, I’m so sorry—” You remove your hand, eyes frantically looking anywhere but his face. “I uhm, I gotta go but will be there tonight see you later!” You step back, almost tripping over your own feet, sprinting away in any direction that wasn't towards him. “Hey, —, wait!—” You don't hesitate, you keep sprinting.

Jacob looked down at his hand, his whole body felt like it was on fire, noises from the street seemed so far away, the only thing his ears focused on was the way your feet slammed against the pavement, the way your breath quickened with anticipation and anxiety. Your scent, god it was almost indescribable how it made his brain fog, you smelled of freshly found honey, the organic kind. So sweet it almost made him instinctively sniff for more. His heart ached as you ran from him, because now, you were his everything. His touch pokes against his cheek and his eyes lock in the direction you’d run.

“Shit…”

—

You turn down a random street and lean against What were you thinking? There’s no way he actually intended to kiss you. I mean he was head over heels for Bella and you both had just gotten done talking about her. Maybe he just got caught up in the moment. You were the one who initiated that kiss right? Fuck, you were gay but the last thing you would want to do is force yourself on someone!

You grip your hair and pull and you sink towards the floor. “I'm so fucking cooked…” You mumble, but as you lean against the wall you couldn't help but think about the way you felt his breath against yours, for a moment you let your mind wander to all the possibilities that could have unfolded. Could've, a hypothetical, because no matter how much you imagine you still sat alone against the wall.

—

Heart thumping loudly against your chest you step out of Bella’s truck, you didn't trust yourself to drive. Your nervous system was going crazy and your eyes looked almost lost.

“Hey, are you okay? Really if you need to go at any time I'm more than happy to take you home, don't push yourself.”

God bless Bella’s soul she was such a sweetheart. You take a deep breath, you stare at your reflection on her truck. You choose a pastel sweater, jeans, a matching hair clip, and Converse, nothing too crazy or out there, just something fitting for the cold weather. “Do you think they’ll like me?”

“— I haven't met a single person that doesn't like you, you sweet, like honey. Also, you kinda smell like it” She laughs softly. You smile at her, appreciating her way of comforting you.

—

The night had been going well so far. You had met a few members of his tribe and they'd shared embarrassing stories, not that getting along with people had been hard for you.

You'd gotten so caught up in the laughter and storytelling you almost didn't notice Jacob staring at you across the fire. He said close to his father and Bella. Just as you predicted, he did think you were Bella.

You sip your drink, whether from sorrow or joy, you very much intend on getting blackout drunk tonight. You quickly turn your head away when his eyes meet yours, pretending to be invested in the story that was being told to you by a very enthusiastic Seth.

—

By the time you were 3 drinks down, you realized it would take a while for you to get drunk off these 2% alcohol drinks. Your hand instinctively reaches for another but a hand grabs your wrist, making the bottle slip from your hand.

You look up only to see a very concerned Jacob.

“You've had enough.” He says sternly and offers you a water bottle inside. You take it reluctantly, “I’m not even drunk…” you try to focus your gaze down but it proves pointless as he kneels to look up at you. “Still, I don't need you tripping over yourself out here, it's dangerous.” His hands creep up the side of your flushed face moving your bangs to feel your forehead. “You feel a bit warm come he—”

“Jacob just stop, I don't need you showing me pity because of what happened, I get it, really. It won't happen again.” You swat his face turning your head to the side. He looks at you defeated, “Why would you think that..?” his voice sounds hoarse, almost like a whimper.

You stand up, “I'm not Bella, Jacob! I can't be the girl of your dreams; I'm a guy, Jacob.” Maybe your actions are a bit exaggerated due to the alcohol, or the underlying feeling that Jacob was only interested in you because he can't be with Bella. You hadn't meant to quiet the bonfire, eyes stare at you from all directions. All holding the same energy, pitifulness. “Fuck, I'm sorry I should really go” You grab the water bottle and turn towards, Bella’s truck.

Bella instinctively gets up to follow behind you. She says a few small goodbyes and catches up to you. “Hey, —, did you mean all that stuff you meant back there?”

You’d like to say you got to properly communicate your feelings with Bella and you both found a healthy way to work through your envy towards her.

“Listen, Bella—” Before you could even begin to explain you feel your body crash into the ground followed by a sharp crack. The air is forced from your lungs and your eyes begin to water from pain.

The following moments are a heavy blur, you hear Bella scream your name, and a few tribe members run towards you. But you could've sworn those figures turned into giant dogs, or something like that, maybe they all collectively tripped?

You feel your body get flipped on your back and when you look up you see Jacob, funny, you remember a few weeks ago when you were in this exact position. Except you were in your bed, and the Jacob above you was just your imagination.

“—, hey, baby stay with me.” His grip is tight, you want to tell him you aren't going anywhere but the words get stuck in your throat. You feel a sharp pain in your ribs every time you breathe, no doubt it's broken.

The last thing you remember is Jacob moving your bangs to kiss your forehead while begging you to stay awake. When he pulls back a deep crimson is covering his lips and undeniably, it's blood.

—

The next time you woke up everything felt heavy, you were in a hospital bed closed by a curtain. “You're awake, I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen, I believe you've met my son, Edward.” You blink slowly at him, your brain not comprehending the full extent of the situation.

He continues to explain your current situation, “You’ve suffered a grade three concussion, a broken rib, and a fractured leg. You need rest, after a couple of days we’ll get you wrapped up and you can begin physical therapy.” He looks down at the clipboard in his hands and writes something before closing the curtain behind him.

You faded in and out of consciousness for the next few hours, you wanted to rest but every time you closed your eyes you saw Jacob's face. He pleaded in his eyes for you to stay awake, his tears falling against your cheek.

Your fingers twitched against the bed sheets. “Where is he,” you think, “I thought this was some cliché story where I woke up to him by my side…” you stare blankly at the ceiling, it's becoming a hobby.

Your lips are dry as you move your mouth to speak, your head is pounding. “Jacob…” is all you manage to say before you black out.

—

“He’s a mess,” Bella whispers to Edward, the three of them have been sitting in the visiting waiting room when they were informed you woke up, when Jacob was told you weren't physically fit for visiting he lost it. Being held back by both Bella and Edward.

“What the fuck do you mean I can't see him?!” Jacob growls, thrashing against Edward. “He’s not fit for visiting, he can't speak, he’s barely conscious. You can't rush to see him, you'd make his condition worse.”

This quiets Jacob, the thrashing stops, his mood switches from anger to grief. Fuck, he should've gone after you, hell he should've ripped that vampire in half. The terror he felt when he saw swift red curls dash towards you, Victoria, she’s picked you to be her next meal.

The moment your eyes closed he was on her, he shifted and dashed at her head—on. Scratching, biting, pulling; his mind was racing at a pace his pack members could keep up. They attempted to pull him back when they noticed her bloodied figure had vanished into the trees.

The aftermath was a mess, Bella called Edward and told him Victoria had struck, pack members frantically tried to calm Jacob while they waited for a first aid kit. It was no use, before they knew it Jacob had shifted and was carrying you in his mouth towards the ER.

So here he sat, completely hopelessly, only separating you two was a wall and his self-restraint.

—

The next time you wake up Jacob is at your side, awake and hyper aware of his surroundings, every shoe squeak causes him to turn towards the noise and release a guttural rumble.

Your throat is dry, you attempt to speak but it comes out as a cough causing your whole body to spasm. His head snaps in your direction, almost causing whiplash.

“—, fuck— you're awake, hey, it's okay, I'm here.” He attempts to soothe you, clumsily grabs the glass of water on the side table bringing it to your lips. “Here, drink slowly.”

When you finish, hold your hand bringing it to his lips. “You scared the hell out of me, god I'm so glad you're okay.” For the first time since you've woken up, you're able to say a full sentence.

“I'm so sorry, Jacob.” Your body twitches, you're crying, your lips wobbling. Jacob practically launches himself forward to wipe your tears. “—, stop, why are you apologizing?”

“I’m so stupid, fuck, I let my jealousy over Bella get in the way of our friendship and instead of communicating, I ran away like an idiot, twice. I tried to protect my feelings and ended up hurting you!” You were full on wailing at this point, no mistake other patients when eavesdropping. You didn't care, you just needed Jacob to understand, you only needed Jacob.

He wipes your tears with his thumbs attempting to silence your cries, “Look at me —, you don't need to apologize for anything. Baby, you're the one in the hospital; I'm fine, really. There are things I haven't told you either.” Your heart flutters at the pet name and your tears dry. You look at him confused, “You haven't?”

Jacob leans back still holding your hand. “—, I’m a shape—shifter.” You don't answer, you feel like a loading screen, your eyes are wide because he looks serious.

“Sorry…?” There in your little secluded hospital bed, Jacob Black told you everything. From vampires, to shifters, to his tribe's history, to how they're affiliated with the Cullens. He told you how being a wolf affected his emotions.

Most importantly he told you about imprints. “So…the universe is forcing you to love me?” You look down at your connected hands and attempt to retreat, Jacob doesn't allow you to hide from him, he kisses the back of your head and leans on your abdomen lightly to not hurt you.

“That's what it sounds like, huh? To anyone else, maybe, but my love for you isn't forced, it's raw, real, something no imprint could duplicate.” He stares up at you, he holds eye contact with you. Real, everything he says feels unmistakably real. “You mean it?” You say, your voice filled with relief. He stands up and you hold your breath preparing for rejection. Eyes shut tight, heart thumping against your chest.

But the blow never came, instead, he placed a soft kiss against your lips. They were everything you imagined, soft with a chapped edge, warm, and inviting. Your breath hitches against his mouth.

Your eyes shoot open, and you pull back, he looks stunned and a bit hurt before he hears your next words “That was our first kiss!” he lets out a loud laugh before he kisses your cheeks “Jacob!” you whine pushing him away, he doesn't budge. He digs his nose into your cheek nuzzling you affectionately. “I’d prove my love a thousand times over to you if it meant you’d believe it's real, I love you —.” He doesn't move, he whispers this all against your neck, an intimate moment only the two of you would share.

“I love you too, Jacob.”

—

The next few months come and go, you and Bella finish your project and turn it in while you stay in the hospital still in recovery. You’ve received many “get well soon” cards from classmates, unfavored by a very possessive Jacob.

“You received another 20 and you've only missed a week of school!” Jacob whines from his spot lying next to you head resting on your shoulder. “They're just being polite, stop being so pouty.” He huffs nuzzling into your neck, “You're supposed to be mine.” “And I am.” You kiss his head, massaging his scalp.

Relearning to walk with your right leg was hard, and painful, you started in a wheelchair and slowly made your way to a forearm crutch. And Jacob stayed by your side the entire time, he never made you feel like a burden for not being able to walk on your own. It was hard, trust it was hard. Late nights of you crying in his arms, arguments that ended with tears, it was a painful, slow process but it made your relationship stronger.

By the time you could fully walk on your own, it was the middle of summer. Bella and Edward were distant but caring friends, you understood, they had their own lives. They’d often send messages updating you on their lives. Weekly hangouts became monthly; it was getting harder to reach them and you mourned the friendship you all once had.

—

It was a hot gloomy summer day, Jacob had insisted on coming over only to tackle you in a multi-hour cuddle session. Everything had been going smoothly until you received a text from Bella, causing your attention to shift from him to your phone. Which is how you ended up lying flat on your back, phone in the air, while Jacob hovered over you in the space between your two arms.

It was rare you'd catch Bella’s response immediately and even rarer for you both to be free at the same time for a full conversation. Above you Jacob frowns deeply at you, he hates not having your attention.

He tucks his head into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. His breath is hot, like always, his natural heat is almost too much for you to bear in this weather. “Hmmm, Jacob, stop! You’re too hot.” You whine into the air, if there was one thing that's become a constant in your relationship it's you whining because of Jacob’s demand for constant attention.

“You're not paying attention to me, honey, look at me. Put your phone down.” He huffs, nodding his head up and down against your neck slowly. “Okay in a second— this is like the first time in ages I've gotten to talk to Bells!” You try to push his face away from your neck, you receive a glare in response.

He hated it when you called her that, he’s such a jealous man! “Jacob, cmon, stop serious—” Jacob lifts his head up knocking your phone out of your hands, he catches it, but he doesn't return it, no, instead he holds it above your head while diving for a kiss.

“Hmp—?” The kiss is hot and desperate, his nose rams into the side of your nose bridge, (which you will for sure complain about later.) you push back for air, the words get lost in your throat as you see a line of saliva connecting you two. He places the phone on the nightstand focusing back on your body.

You were only in a sleeveless undershirt and plaid pants, you didn’t bother getting dressed before he came over. His gaze felt as if he could see right through you and in a moment of embarrassment you pulled your hands to cover your face.

“Stop staring…” He pulls your hands away from your face and nuzzles against it, “I can't help it baby, you're so handsome, all mine.” His hands wander from your wrist to your waist, he slots his thigh between your legs feeling your growing bulge against him. “Look, you're so excited for me,” He whispers in your ear, placing a soft kiss before finding a home in your neck. Licking and marking any exposed skin, which was a lot.

His grip guides you against his thigh slowly, unbearably. Your skin felt like it was burning and suddenly the AC didn't feel like enough. He knew what he was doing, he was teasing you, getting back at you for not giving him enough attention. Well, he got your attention now.

You arched your back against him, rocking your hips against his thigh harder, you felt like you were going to explode. “J—Jacob, stop teas… ing me hm— please I need it so bad.” Your voice came out broken and slurred, he grinned down at you. “Yeah? You want me now don't you, honey?”

Your hips stuttered as you let out a mewl. He knew what that nickname did to you; he’d used it the first time you two were intimate and you had cum on the spot.

“Clothes off, cmon—” He grips your pants, gripping them down recklessly. Your skin is flushed and your tip is already leaking. Leaning back, he looks your body up and down.

One of his hands finds its way to your nipples, the other fumbles to the nightstand drawer, he pulls it open and blindly searches for the lube. He squirts some on his finger and lines them up.

“Look at me honey, I wanna see your face while I finger you.” His blunt tone makes your cheeks warm, you twitch against him when he pinches your nipple. “P—put it i—in already…” Your mouth salivates in anticipation. Body twitching and shudders under just his hands.

The moment he plunges his fingers in it, euphoric. Your body freezes and a silent scream escapes you; whines and moans follow. You don't break eye contact with him, he watches your reaction intently. Eyes darting between your twitching hole and leaking cock. He leans up, pressing a soft kiss against it.

“D—don't do that, if you, keep teasing m—meE! I'm goi—ing to c—cuM!!” Your voice comes out high-pitched.

His fingers press against your walls. Spreading open enough to take his cock. “You think you're ready for me baby?” You nod furiously, hips bucking against his face, cock needy for attention. “Oh, I know baby, you're so hard and leaky, you need help, need me to get you off?” He's not even looking at you, he's inside staring at your angry tip that's leaking against him. “S—stop talking to it!”

He runs his tongue up your cock as he meets you face to face, he tugs his shorts off, and he lines himself up with your hole. “He’s so cute though, pleading for attention down there.”

He pushes himself in one long stretch you both throw your heads back, your hands find his thighs, and they flex under your grip. His hips snap against yours and he groans, he starts slowly making his cock’s presence known to your tight hole.

His hand cups the back of your left leg pulling it against your chest as he moves fast. He thrusts sloppily, deep moans against his throat. “Baby, I wanna cum in you so bad, please let me cum in you, f—fuCk I'm so close” “Cum in me Jake— please!” he rests his head on your shoulder; your hips quicken in pace, “f—fUck—” his hips stutter against you before he presses hard against you. Cum leaks from your hole. “Look baby, you came untouched…” You open your eyes, you feel lightheaded as you look down at your chest. You were covered in your own cum. “You're going to be the death of me, Jacob.” You lean against the pillows hard and look up at him, he smiles flopping against you.

“God, Jacob, you're going to be covered in cum now!” “Oh well…guess we'll have to shower together.” he smiles at you rubbing your sides. “You’re impossible…”

—

The next time you hear from Bella or Edward, it's through the mail, specifically, an invitation for their wedding. “I didn't think the bastard would ever actually do it,” Jacob says from behind you. “Yeah…” you mumble, staring at the invitation.

Preparation for the wedding had been a breeze; it felt as if the Cullens had been waiting their whole life to plan someone's wedding.

As you and Jacob find your seat you can't help but feel a growing anxiety bubble in your stomach, Bella was Jacob's first love. The wedding carries on and your thoughts don't fade.

His feelings for you are real but do they compare to his past ones for Bella? You grip Jacob's hand when Bella makes her way down the aisle, she looks beautiful. Suddenly you guys aren't high schoolers in biology anymore. You're afraid to look at Jacob's reaction.

But when you turn to look at him, he’s already staring at you. And all your anxiety fades away, because in the moment you know the only thing in Jacob's universe is you, and he’d prove it a thousand times over if he had to.

“I love you, Honey.”

⌗ :⤿ Thank for reading! (๑⃙⃘´༥`๑⃙⃘)

You both ended up stumbling off the bar. Husk pushed you against one of the high tables, knocking over a couple of glasses that shattered on the floor. He kissed you roughly, growling, while his claws slashed at your shirt without any finesse.

"You're really drunk…" you laughed.

"So are you, idiot," he replied, biting your neck.

He easily turned you around and bent you over the table. His hands slid down your body until he yanked your pants down. You felt his hot breath on the back of your neck as he rubbed against you. His cock was already hard, thick, and throbbing against your ass.

Husk spat in his hand and prepared you with two clumsy but insistent fingers, growling under his breath.

“Don’t complain later…” he warned, his voice husky.

He lined up and thrust into you in one swift motion. You both let out a loud groan. Husk was big and incredibly hot. He began fucking you with deep, wild thrusts, fueled by the alcohol. The table creaked with each stroke.

“Fuck… you’re tight,” he growled, digging his claws into your hips.

You moaned against the wood, feeling him fill you with each thrust. Husk leaned over your back, biting your shoulder as he sped up. His wings spread slightly with pleasure.

After several intense minutes, he turned you over, lifted you onto the table, and positioned himself between your legs. He kissed you again, slower but just as drunk and desperate. He gripped your cock with his hairy hand and began masturbating you as he penetrated you again.

“I want to see your face when you come,” he murmured, his eyes half-closed.

His thrusts were strong and deep. The wet sound of skin against skin filled the empty bar. Husk was fucking you hard, grunting and muttering curses under his breath every time you squeezed around him.

You were on the edge.

"Husk… I'm going to…" "Come," he ordered huskily, speeding up. You came hard onto your stomach and Husk's chest. He groaned as he felt you clench around his cock, and after a few more brutal thrusts, he came inside you with a long, low groan. You felt him fill you with hot, thick spurts.

Husk collapsed on top of you, panting, still inside. His tail wrapped around your leg.

"This… doesn't mean anything," he mumbled, clearly lying.

You laughed drunkenly and stroked his ear.

"Of course not, cat."

They stayed like that for several minutes, sweaty, sticky, and drunk, lazily kissing on the bar table.

Husk finally lifted his head, a crooked, drunken smile on his face.

“Another round of whiskey?”