#and the spent the entire rest of it complaining about the fact Wes wasn’t there (which stressed me out more than it should’ve)

[shu-box-puns]

You wanna be one of them (Tsu'tey x Reader) Part 8

Previous Chapter <- Act 8 -> Next Chapter

If you prefer to read on Ao3, you can find the fic here!

Word Count: 8930

Summary: Reunions and Norm just trying his best :)

Reader uses they/them pronouns.

<”Tsu’tey, you’re being ridiculous.”>

In contrast, Tsu’tey strongly believed that he was not in fact being ridiculous, and chose to say nothing. His mate was a comfortably weight in his arms, their relentless wiggling more endearing than bothersome. He welcomed it in fact, after the stressful night he’d spent tracking them across the rainforest. 

His mate did not share the sentiment. They scowled up at his blank expression, apparently choosing their next words carefully. <”Let me down.”> They told him, rather seriously, pulling away from him in an attempt to make eye contact. Tsu’tey refused to meet their gaze, knowing he would lose immediately if he did.

<”Tsu’tey!”> His ear flicked at their tone, but he kept his composure. They groaned. Muttering something about him being stubborn before they scrambled for another argument. <”The palulukan fucked off hours ago! It’s safe now.”>

<”The forest is never safe.”> Tsu’tey neatly countered, and kept walking. 

They huffed. <”My legs are getting stiff.”>

<”You will complain they hurt within the hour.”>

<”That is not the point!”>

Tsu’tey found himself smiling despite himself. He knew from their tone that they weren’t actually mad, a tell he’d been forced to learn or suffer through endless misunderstandings.

<”We move faster like this.”>  He informed them truthfully, as he neatly leapt over a fallen log, which was just tall enough in diameter, that if his mate had been walking, than he would have to to wait several minutes for them to clamber onto it and then even longer for them to find a safe spot on the other side to slide off. The mental image caused him to snort. 

The human in his arms, groaned and threw their head back, the annoying exo mask strapped over their attractive features glinting in the dappled sunlight. Tsu’tey glanced down at them, finding their languid sprawl over his arm ridiculously adorable. 

Their head rolled towards him, and their eyes pinned him into place as they tried once more to persuade him. <”Surely your arms have to be cramping from holding me for so long.”> 

Tsu’tey scoffed in mock offence. As if he would be so weak. He would happily carry them around for the rest of his life if they allowed him to; human or avatar. Not that he would tell them that.

<”I fear I will lose you in the undergrowth if I let you down.”> He countered mockingly, to which they promptly sat upright in his arms. 

<”I’m not that small!”>

He didn’t respond, and turned his head away. His knowing smirk was answer enough. 

They scowled at him, pushing at his cheek but failing miserably to actually push him away. Tsu’tey laughed, feeling lighter than he had in weeks. Finally, the tension in him had broken. 

Forgetting himself, he paused in his purposeful strides to pull them further up his torso, so he could knock his forehead against theirs, only to be immediately disappointed by the dull tap of glass to his cool skin. He kept the pressure regardless, wishing their naturally warmer skin was pressing into his, sharing their warmth, instead of the glass stealing what little body heat he generated. The largely na’vi gesture was not lost on them judging by the warmth that flooded into their cheeks. To Tsu’tey’s amusement, they pouted but allowed the affection with a looseness to their body, which Tsu’tey thought would translate to a lazy tail wag or soft purring if they were driving their avatar. Although in truth, he wasn’t entirely sure. The Sky People emoted vastly differently to the na’vi afterall, what with their lack of movable ears.

<”Fine.”> They grumbled quietly, when Tsu’tey started to purr again. <”You win.”> 

Tsu’tey grinned despite himself, and gave his mate an appreciative nuzzle for relenting. They scowled back, but Tsu’tey knew it was just because they wanted to be difficult.

The rest of the day continued like that, with the pair of them exchanging light banter and playful jabs as the day wore on. 

The sun had reached its midday peak when Tsu’tey heard the first yips of ikran riders soaring over the canopy. He was immediately on alert, his snarky response momentarily forgotten as he scrambled to find the source of the yips. Calling back loudly, his voice carried effortlessly through the trees. His mate hissed against his chest as he stepped from the dappled sunlight of the shade into the strong light of midday, but Tsu’tey was more concerned with being noticed and hopefully hitching a ride back to the clan.

Mighty wingbeats circled overhead. And through the trees, Tsu’tey caught sight of not an ikran, but a toruk. Tsu’tey felt his muscles pull tight, preparing to throw himself deep into the undergrowth to avoid discovery, until he noticed that the mighty animal carried riders. This was no wild toruk. It carried three na’vi aboard its colossal back, two of which clung to the one in front who urged the beast of legend to elegantly bank and start to descend with graceful wingbeats. There was only one na’vi alive stupid enough to have tamed such a creature.

<”Is that a toruk?”> His mate breathed, staring wide eyed up at the enormous, orange reptile. <”I thought it moved on.”> That’s what Jake had said anyway, that he had sent the animal away now that it was no longer needed.

<”It’s Jake’s toruk.”> 

<”Shit. What do you think brought it back?”>

<”I have no idea.”> 

Another yip sounded from toruk’s back, to which Tsu’tey responded sceptically. The rider sitting behind the first visibly pointed, to which the animal promptly altered its course. With surprising efficiency, it managed to slot itself between the arching branches of some trees before attaching itself to a sturdy looking trunk that barely creaked under its weight. 

Immediately, the rider in front was sliding down toruk’s back, and then down its wing which it extended to the floor for an easy dismount. The second rider followed suit, whilst the last clung desperately to Toruk’s spines, decked out in RDA issued shorts and matching jacket. 

“Where the hell have you two been?” Jake yelled out, the moment his feet touched the ground, Neytiri at his back. Within seconds of regaining his balance, he was jogging to meet them, ears pricked and his tail thrashing with nerves.

“Are the People safe?” Tsu’tey demanded instead of answering the question. “Why did you summon Toruk?”

“They’re fine. Mo’at has everything under control. As for toruk, he came when I called.” Jake replied simply, as if that settled everything. “I explained the situation and he was more than happy to help, but that's not important right now. Where the hell DID YOU GO, TSU’TEY!”

His voice kicked up severely in volume as he approached the Olo’eyktan, a wild look in his eye as he took in the fresh bruises and wounds dotted across his skin. Those weirdly small demon eyes dipped to the human in Tsu’tey’s arms, his bared teeth slackening a fraction as they waved sheepishly up at him. 

“And you!” Jake immediately started, jabbing a finger at them, “you are never going ANYWHERE on your own again! Do you understand me?” 

Within seconds, he had closed the distance and practically wrestled the human out of Tsu’tey’s grasp. For once, Tsu’tey was so stunned by the protective fire in Jake’s eyes to put up much of a fight. Which left him standing stupidly to the side as Jake held his mate several feet off the ground by their armpits. “You scared me half to death!”

The human glared back at him. “I am fully grown-”

“YOU SCARED ME!” Jake repeated with a sharp shake, which caused them to yelp and grab at his arms. “I asked you to get water, not go on a fucking vacation! Where the hell have you been?”

“There were marines by the river.” His mate growled, “they overpowered me-”

“So why didn’t you scream for help?!”

“You wouldn’t have heard me with how comfortable you were all snuggled up in your bunk.” 

Jake snarled at them, ears pinning back. His mate levelled him with a look Grace would have been proud of.  

"Oh cut it out. I didn't bloody ask them to abduct me." 

Jake chuckled darkly. "Oh I bet you goaded them into it. Probably knew there was no other way of finding their camp now that you knew they existed separately from Hell’s Gate." Jake fired back. “You crafty, brilliant bastard.”

"You give me more credit than I deserve." His mate deflected, but Jake’s attention had already slid off of them and returned to Tsu’tey. He lowered them to their feet before stepping around them to start yelling at Tsu’tey as well. 

“And you!” Toruk Makto boomed, shoving Tsu’tey hard. He stumbled, too shocked to bite back. Over Jake’s shoulder, Tsu’tey watched Neytiri struggle to smother her amused look.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to link up. Just DISAPPEARED without a word! Mo’at was getting ready to make me Olo’eyktan! ME!” He jabbed a finger into Tsu’tey’s chest, his expression suggesting that the idea was simply preposterous. As if he hadn’t successfully led the People to war and then back again a few short weeks ago. “And when the fuck did you name me as your bloody successor? Surely you misspoke!”

“After my injury.” Tsu’tey grit out, ears flat. “I would trust no one else to protect the People.”

“Neytiri would have been a better leader than I ever could!” Jake snarled, his tail whipping too and fro so aggressively that the human standing beside him had to move away to avoid losing an eye.

“Neytiri is set to become Tsahik after her mother. I could not name her as my successor too.”

“Jake.” Neytiri cut in, giving her mate a hard look. “Breathe.”

“I am breathing.” Jake insisted before launching straight into another interrogating question. “And where the hell is your pa’li? No wonder you’ve been gone so bloody long!”

“It is impossible to track whilst riding, you know this.”

Jake let out an infuriated sound, turning away to grab at his hair. He tipped his head back as if looking to some higher power for strength. The dramatic action was lost on Tsu’tey, as his attention was drawn away by Norm finally sliding off of toruk’s back with a pained ‘oof’. 

Tsu’tey’s mate was the first to speak up. “You called NORM!?” 

To his credit, the avatar driver did not look offended as he dusted off his cargo shorts and jogged over to the group, various instruments and scientific devices swinging from his large backpack.

“You called Norm.” They repeated, in disbelief. “NORM? Really Jake? What the hell was Norm going to do? Recite every known property of carnivorous flora at the bloody enemy? Throw a test tube at the fucking marines and pray the glass got in someone’s eye?”

“I panicked!” Jake argued, looking rather comical, as he bent to yell down at his friend who had their hands planted firmly on their hips. “Norm knows how to keep a level head, and lord knows we needed some of that with Tsu’tey going rogue without telling anyone where he was going!”

“I thought what I did was right.” Tsu’tey defended to which Jake threw up a hand at him with his middle finger pointing to the heavens. Although Tsu’tey had not grown up with such a gesture, he knew from the pure annoyance plaguing Jake’s features that it was meant to offend him.

“He’s got one of Grace’s scanners.” His mate cut in, “the ones Grace used to measure the electromagnetic connections between the trees. That thing can’t even pick up thermal signatures from point blank range.” As Jake scrambled to find a decent response, they lifted their attention to Norm, who was twiddling his thumbs and looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “Did you just grab that out of panic, and realise too late that it would be useless?”

Norm thinned his lips, deciding to avert his gaze instead of answer, his tail diving between his legs as he was stared down by his much smaller colleague. “Norm.” They repeated, stern as Mo’at scolding one of her apprentices.

The avatar driver let out a long, defeated sigh. “It calmed Jake down when he thought I was being useful.”

Jake let out an offended scoff. “How dare you use my lack of technological knowledge to your advantage.” Behind his back, Neytiri was looking at Norm in a new light, looking mildly impressed.

“Well,” Norm exhaled, “I wasn’t willing to sit through 48 plus hours of your anxious nattering, without something to give you hope. I wouldn’t survive the headache.”

The pair promptly dissolved into bickering. With Jake accusing Norm of thinking he was stupid, to which Norm easily agreed, which in turn hurtled them off course and into an entirely new argument. 

Peeved by her mate’s behaviour, Neytiri, who had been a quiet bystander until now, weaved around the pair and approached on unsure feet.

<“What happened?”> She asked simply, in that calm but authoritative tone of her’s. The one that nostalgically reminded Tsu’tey of Eytukan.  

<”Sky People kidnapped them.”> He explained simply, suddenly aching to scoop them back up. He knew they were perfectly safe now with even more na’vi hunters watching out for them, even Norm would make a decent distraction if something suddenly found them, but he still felt raw. <”There was a camp beyond our territory.”>

<”Did you leave survivors?”>

<”Not one.”> 

<”That is good.”> Neytiri said, which was as close to praise as she got. <”Norm-Spellman informed us of a few warrior groups that never returned to Hell’s Gate. He said they were assumed dead, but there have been whispers of human camps appearing in neighbouring clan territories.”>

<”Why was I not informed of this?”>

<”They have been successful in rounding them up alone. They did not want to spread unease among our people.”>

Whilst Tsu’tey did not like the idea of being excluded from something so crucial, from a leadership perspective, he could somewhat understand the motive of the scientists. If only a little. 

An ikran shrill distracted him from responding. 

Perched upon its tree. Toruk lifted its head and answered, the timbre of its low call sending vibrations through the forest. The ikran chirped in reply, before a large blue blob shot through the canopy, headed straight for the clearing. 

Tsu’tey recognised his spirit brother as one would recognise their own reflection. 

The ikran wasted no time in finding him amongst the group and unsettling the dirt as he dropped down at Tsu’tey’s back. The hunter grinned, reaching up to greet the beast who ducked his head eagerly in greeting. He had little care for the others in the circle, and beat his wings in joy at having finally found Tsu’tey.

Neytiri watched the interaction with a bitter note in her eye, before turning to the rest of the group and raising her voice above Jake and Norm’s bickering. “We should head back.”

“Yes. Lets.” Jake immediately agreed, giving Norm a firm shove and Tsu’tey’s mate a sharp glare. They flipped him off in return. The marine pretended not to notice, and shoulder checked Tsu’tey on his way back to toruk, to which Tsu’tey reciprocated hard enough to almost shove the man off his feet. Neytiri tutted at her mate’s behaviour, but made no comment as she followed.

“Norm.” Tsu’tey’s mate acknowledged.

“Doctor.” The avatar returned politely. “Glad to see you in one piece.” 

The pair shared an odd kind of staring contest which Tsu’tey couldn’t decipher, before Norm inclined his head and retreated towards toruk.

Tsu’tey’s ikran headbutted his arm. Turning, the hunter smiled as his mount offered his neural whip. Pulling his kuru over his shoulder, Tsu’tey linked up and was immediately met with a wall of concern and pride. He ran a soothing hand down his ikran’s snout, smiling faintly. 

<”Ready to go?”> He asked his mate, who was watching the interaction from a safe distance. They smiled tightly, their eyes tracking the excited wiggling of Tsu’tey’s ikran as they approached. 

<”Yes. Let’s go home.”>

>_<

You were expecting to be dropped off with Norm at the compound. 

You assumed that you’d spend your evening alone. Taking off your sweaty exomask and tumbling straight into your bunk without even bothering to pull back the covers. Mentally, you had prepared yourself for dirty sheets in the morning, and an earful from Jake when he eventually unlinked, for going to bed without eating or pulling out a first aid kit for your wounds.

Instead, Tsu’tey didn’t even slow his ikran’s wingbeats as the compound slid past between the trees and disappeared from view.

<”Um, the compound is that way.”> You pointed out helpfully, leaning to the side in the saddle so you could see where toruk was circling low to allow Norm to dismount. 

<”I know.”> Tsu’tey replied simply, his arm around your stomach tightening to keep you firmly against him. His eyes did not stray from the distant arching rocks of the Well of Souls. <”Jake will catch up with us shortly.”>

<"Shouldn't you be dropping me off there too?">

<”No.”> He replied simply, with enough surety that you paused to question yourself. 

<”You can’t seriously be thinking that taking me to the clan is a good idea.”>

<”It’s the perfect plan.”> Tsu’tey argued. 

<”Maybe.”> You half agreed, <”if I were in my avatar or the clan was even slightly less traumatised by the Sky People.”>

<”It will be fine.”>

<”It really won’t.”> You pressed. <”Even you tried to kill me the first time you saw me like this, and we were friends. What are you expecting the hunters to do? Open their arms and embrace me with grins and wagging tails.”>

<”You’re being dramatic.”>

<”I’m being practical!”> 

<”Just-”> Tsu’tey cut himself off, and inhaled deeply. He gave you a quick squeeze, as if to reassure himself you were still there. <”Just, trust me? Please? I won’t let anything happen to you.”>

<”That’s what I’m concerned about.”> You grumbled under your breath, but allowed the conversation to drop. And then louder added, <”fine. If you insisted. But I expect a decent head start if they start notching arrows on sight.”>

Tsu’tey did not laugh. <”It won’t come to that.”> Tsu’tey assured you. You were too tired to tell him that it very well might.

>_<

The din of clan life could be heard before the Well of Souls even came into view. 

The sight was almost similar to the view you would get on the back of your ikran when returning to HomeTree after a day of hunting. Far below, the clan moved with the organised chaos of a bee hive around The Tree of Souls. The camp was alive with activity, with hunters stationed on the cliffs as guards, whereas the rest of the clan busied themselves by carrying baskets whilst others cooked or tended to weapons. Children weaved between the adults, shrieking and playing as they always had.

It was reassuring to see that everyone was okay. 

It didn’t take long for Tsu’tey’s ikran to be recognised, and even shorter of a time for toruk to be spotted following its descent for the cliffs. Yips of greeting echoed from the bowl of the Well of Souls as many of the clan members paused in their tasks to point and wave.

Tsu’tey’s grasp on you tightened securely as he manoeuvred his mount onto landing on his usual perch, a neat shelf of rock that overlooked the well below. The ikran chirped as it touched down, lowering its front for Tsu’tey to dismount, and then down further to make it easier for your small legs to slide off. You smiled, patting his neck as you followed Tsu’tey’s lead. 

A little ways over, toruk had also landed, with Neytiri having already leapt off and begun her rapid descent down the cliff face, whilst Jake took the time to thank toruk and offer the enormous beast a few pats down its muzzle.

<”Are you ready?”> Tsu’tey prompted, pulling your attention away from your friends and up to him. He stood proudly upon the lip of the cliff, half turned back to you with the sun back lighting him. The vision of authority and certainty. 

You cast an uncertain glance over the cliff edge, down to the faces that had become familiar to you. Anxiety squirmed uncomfortably in your stomach, but deep down you knew you were safe here. Even if the clan were to react badly, you trusted Tsu’tey to get you out in one piece.

<”Let's get this over with.”> You agreed, <”I’m exhausted.”> 

Tsu’tey smiled tightly, but took no time in gathering you up in one arm and beginning his swift descent down into the bowl of Souls. You clung diligently to him, watching the clan naturally migrate towards where their Olo’eyktan would predictably land. 

Neytiri had already hit the ground and wove through the crowd to meet you. Na’vi you didn’t know the names of greeted her politely, offering soft questions that Neytiri either waved off or gave swift responses. Her expression was pinched but attempting at being encouraging as Tsu’tey landed neatly on his feet before crouching to set you down beside him. 

<”It is going to be alright.”> Tsu’tey promised with something fierce glinting in his eye. 

At his back, the clan had gone uncomfortably quiet. A thrum of unease had gone through the members the moment human feet had touched the glowing moss encompassing Eywa’s throne for the first time. Against your will, your nervous swallow was loud to your own ears. Over Tsu’tey’s shoulder, you could see the confused glances the People were shooting one another. A couple hands had lowered to knife hilts, whilst some of the younger, more skittish hunters had taken uncertain steps back.

You knew how you must look to them. Small and dirty and bruised. Weak compared to the collective threat of humanity in which they had lost so much to. You felt vulnerable like this. No longer on equal footing with the People who had become your friends. Hell, you didn’t have a thread of Omaticayan jewellery on you, let alone your bow. To those who would not see your avatar in your face, you were just another demon.

You shouldn’t be here. Not like this. Not in such a sacred place.

The clan remained motionless. Waiting for Tsu’tey to make his intentions clear.

<”Wait here.”> He told you, and then straightened.

He had barely taken a step forward, his mouth opening to offer reassurance or a greeting worthy of an Olo’eyktan, before the clan surged forward to greet him. Women who had watched him grow up immediately started worrying over his injuries, whilst one or two tutted at the state of his braids. Na’vi men offered clipped greetings and firm pats on the back, glancing uncertainty at you over Tsu’tey’s shoulder but choosing not to comment. Tsu’tey took the attention in his stride, reassuring anyone who asked that he was okay and that Jake had been ultimately useless at finding him. 

Between the legs of a couple of parents, you noticed the curious faces of three children peering at you. If you were to stand shoulder to shoulder with the oldest, she could’ve easily towered over you, and yet she hid. Tucking her younger brothers close to her side, whilst she stole quick glances at you, as if you would lash out if she accidentally met your eyes. 

The youngest was clearly intrigued by you, whining to his sister about her insistent grip on his bicep to keep him from emerging from the crowd to look you over. He grumbled audibly, his little tail smacking into her thigh, but she refused to relent. Her lips drawn into a thin line as she firmly shook her head.

<”Where is Mo’at?”> You heard Tsu’tey ask over the clamour of many voices. To which you saw someone near the rear of the crowd break off at a hard run for the sleeping area.

Someone stepped purposefully between you and the cowering children. And you knew it was purposeful from the way the long, blue limb had stepped down and then remained, the foot facing towards you instead of Tsu’tey who was standing a little way in front of you to your left.

Your skin crawled, your dominant hand absently groping for a knife that wasn’t there as you steadily lifted your gaze to a glaring na’vi woman. Saeyla, you recognised her as, as she had been one of Tsu’tey’s students who had completed her iknimaya alongside Jake. Although you’d never spoken to her directly, you knew her for her blatant honesty and strong beliefs. 

Every inhale you took through your exomask felt obnoxiously loud, even more so than before with her unblinking gaze on you. You hadn’t felt this awkward and out of place, since stepping into Grace’s laboratory for the first time. Where everyone was busy or carrying out a job, barely sparring you a confused glance, and had left you to stand stupidly in the doorway with your rucksack over one shoulder. 

<”Saelya.”> You greeted politely, as you had always greeted her. With a swift dip of your chin and the ‘I see you’ hand gesture. She did not return it. 

Instead, her gaze snapped up to someone directly behind you. And when she spoke, her tone was sharp and icy. <”Is this your influence, Toruk Makto?”> She asked plainly, <”convincing our Olo’eyktan to bring a stray into our sanctuary?”>

<”Stray?”> You repeated cuttingly. 

It took Jake a moment to figure out what she was telling him, but he managed to translate it well enough on his own. <”I didn’t do any influencing.”> Jake replied honestly, his lips quirking up into a small grin. 

Saelya’s tail thrashed. Her head abruptly snapped downwards, her eyes finding yours’ and holding with crippling intensity. “What are you doing here?” She snapped, unexpectedly switching to English. Your eyes widened in shock. You hadn’t even been aware she knew English. ”You people are not to be here.” 

<”I was invited.”> You replied sharply, revelling in her surprise at your choice of language. Clearly, she had not been expecting you to be fluent.

<”You are one of the scientists then.”> She deducted, flashing her teeth as she took an intimdating step closer.

“Careful.” Jake warned lighty, a hint of amusement creeping into his tone.

Despite her height advantage, you were not unnerved by her. She would not act without a go ahead from the others. Nonetheless, it was reassuring to feel Jake step up behind you anyway, his shadow causing the light to shift. You didn’t have to look up to know that his amusement had melted into something more sinister.

The huntress stilled her approach. <”Why?”>

Jake jerked his head to your left.

Saeyla followed his gaze only to start when she found Tsu’tey already glaring back at her. With ease, the Olo’eyktan extracted himself from the crowd and approached with an unimpressed tilt to his chin. His strides could only be described as predatory. 

<”Is there a problem?”> Tsu’tey asked, his tone giving nothing away. <Saeyla?”>

Accidentally, the huntress now had the attention of the entire clan, and she knew it. She shifted uncertainly on her feet, as she studied Tsu’tey’s expression carefully. When she next spoke, her voice was even and sure. <”There is a demon in our sanctuary.”> She told him bluntly as if he didn’t have eyes.

A murmur went through the clan at Tsu’tey’s back, whereas the Olo’eyktan simply frowned. Pointedly, your mate looked at you, then looked you up and down with a fire in his eyes that made your stomach twist warmly. With what could only be described as arrogance, he returned his attention to the huntress. <”I see no demon.”>

Saeyla opened her mouth with a snap, only to catch herself and visibly calm her posture. Her tone was reproachful when she found the right words. <”I have never known you to joke, Olo’eyktan. And certainly not about something like this.”> 

<”I’m not joking.”> Tsu’tey assured her, in that infuriatingly all-knowing tone of his. Behind you, you heard Jake attempt to smother an amused snort. 

Saeyla licked her lips. With a deciding shift of her stance, she pointed down at you. <”Demons are dangerous, Olo’eyktan.”>

<”They are.”> Tsu’tey agreed.

<”Then why did you bring a Demon here?”> Saeyla demanded, <”they are not be trusted. They are dangerous and destructive, and you should not have brought one this close to Eywa’s throne after they’ve taken EVERYTHING from us!”>

<”I understand you are uneasy, Saeyla, but know that I did not make this decision lightly. They have proven themselves more than trustworthy.”>

<”Trust will not protect us.”> Saeyla pushed, <”Demons turn on each other all the time.”> The huntress added, shooting a pointed look at Jake. <”What makes this one any different? What’s stopping it from turning on us?”> 

Tsu’tey smiled, all fang and quiet anger. His eyes had flickered back to you, but were hovering just above your head, watching something. <”Look closer.”> He motioned, to which Saeyla snapped her head in the direction he pointed.

She paled. 

You cocked your head, glancing over your shoulder to find that Jake had backed up a couple steps and was now beaming with what could only be described as pride. He pointedly looked up, his eyebrows quirking playfully. 

You followed his gaze, only to find a single atokirina hovering above your head. The sacred seed was much larger with you this size, but it felt no more threatening than it had the day of the battle. Slowly, as if to avoid startling you, the sprite floated lower and lower until it perched upon the black plastic rim of your exo mask. You watch it wave its little tendrils. How it remained perched even when a light breeze swept across the moss, surely strong enough to dislodge it.

With your movements slow, you looked back to the huntress, to the clan who now looked upon you with a sense of awe and almost respect. You looked past them to Tsu’tey, who grinned openly, his tail swaying happily. 

He turned back to the clan as Saeyla struggled to find words strong enough to debunk such a blatant sign. <”The Great Mother has spoken!”> Tsu’tey said loudly, as a ripple went through the crowd. Saeyla 

<”TSU’TEY!”> Mo’at suddenly bellowed back, to which the Olo’eyktan went very still. Even from your point of view, you saw the People effortlessly parted for their Tsahik as she approached at a brisk pace. 

Tsu’tey had gone stiff. His spine unnaturally straight as he watched Mo’at approach with fire in her eyes. 

She broke free of the crowd and strode across the moss. Everything about her screamed pissed off. And yet her voice was light and almost relieved as she continued to speak. <”You have returned.”> She threw her hands up into the heaven’s dramatically. <”Oh how the Great Mother weeps in relief.”> 

Her eyes flickered up to the cliffs, to toruk, before dropping back to the small gathering. You watched her eyes brighten at the atokirina perched on your mask, before she spun back to the people, her voice rising. <”Our Olo’eyktan has returned to us unharmed and successful. May we sleep soundly on this night.”>

A relieved hum went through the clan. Mo’at lowered her hands. <”Continue with your tasks my People.”> She instructed, and just like that, the tension in the Well of Souls broke and ebbed away. 

She smiled tightly, waiting until the clan’s attention was fully off her, before whipping round. Saeyla jumped at her sudden movement, and ducked her head as she hurried away. Mo’at glared at her retreating back before, snapping her eyes back to Tsu’tey. The fury from before leapt up into her face within seconds.

<”Where have you been!”> She snarled, whacking Tsu’tey upside the head as one would swat at a persistent fly. <”No message! No ikran! Not even a hunting party to support you! What were you thinking?!”>

Tsu’tey growled his irritation, darting away. Mo’at simply followed him, her rant only just picking up speed. <”You were not! Clearly!”> She declared dramatically. <”Stupid man!”>

<”Um, Mo’at-”> You spoke up only for her to cut you off.

<”Quiet you!”> She growled, spinning her hurricane of wrath in your direction. The atokirina perched on your mask promptly took flight and floated back towards the Tree as the Tsahik approached. Mo’at pointed an accusatory finger in your direction. <”You are just as stupid, if not more so! Wandering off in the darkness, no escort, no backup, no plan!”>

<”Hey, that’s not-”>

<”And look at the state of you!”> She shrilled. 

You looked down at your dirty, torn attire. Despite Tsu’tey’s best efforts by the river, your clothes had definitely seen better days.

The Tsahik’s attention slid off of you and returned to Tsu’tey, her tone gravely serious. <”I feared you would not return to us. That you would leave me to heal an already broken clan. To appoint a third Olo’eyktan in so little time. There is so much you still have to do. So much you can prove. You have been training for this position since you were a boy!”>

Mo’at was still talking, but visibly losing steam. <”Do not recklessly throw it all away because you fear we will not support your decisions. This clan has, and always will be your family, Olo’eyktan. If you ask them, the People would have gladly helped you.”>

Looking suitably chastised, Tsu’tey apologised. <”I am sorry Tsahik. I was not thinking.”>

<”I know what it is to want to protect everyone.”> Mo’at breathed, <”but you must learn to think more logically.”>

<”Of course.”>

She hummed thoughtfully as she visibly softened. <”Come. Warm yourselves by the fire, I assume you have no eaten yet.”>

>_<

<”We need to move the clan.”> Tsu’tey said calmly, his tone all business as he sat perched on a fallen log and stared into the flames. Mo’at leant over his back, applying salve to a nasty scratch. <”It is no longer safe here with the Demons lurking within the forests.”>

The Tsahik hummed thoughtfully, dabbing more ointment over the wound before replying. <”It would have been better to move once they have been sent away, but you are right, it is dangerous to remain. We will begin preparations. Come sunrise, we will leave.”>

Tsu’tey nodded his understanding, his teeth grinding as Mo’at began applying leaf bandages.

Neytiri lightly nudged your arm, you jumped, tearing your gaze from Tsu’tey’s grimace, to find the huntress knelt beside you, offering a leaf of nuts and fruit. Since dinner wouldn’t begin being prepared for several more hours, you were touched by her kindness in wandering off to forage for something edible for you. 

<”Thank you.”> You breathed, eagerly reaching for the leaf. She smiles tightly, letting you take it from her before gingerly sitting down on the log beside you.

Mo’at was finishing up tending to Tsu’tey, when Jake returned to the fire with your atokirina knife in hand after realising that your gun had been lost. 

He held it out, to which you smiled gratefully and reached up to take it from him. In seemingly slow motion, you realised that the arm you’d reached with had the swirl mark from Tsu’tey’s kuru tattooed into the delicate skin. Your eyes widened in realisation in comical synchronisation with Jake’s eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. Without warning, his large hand shot out and caught you by the forearm.   

“The hell is this?” He asked, his tone reminiscent of a parent finding bruises on their kid. With surprising gentleness, he turned your arm over, his eyes raking over the beautiful swirls of darkened pigment. 

“Dunno. Some chemical reaction from Tsu’tey’s kuru, I presume. It’s not painful or anything.” You explained simply, watching in amusement as Jake’s eyebrows somehow hitched higher.

“His kuru?” Jake repeated, “what were you doing near his-” he cut himself off with a scandalous gasp. “Tsu’tey, show me your tentacles!”

”My WHAT?” The Olo’eyktan spluttered, but it was too late. 

Jake had tossed you your knife and swept around the fire towards Tsu’tey who promptly launched himself to his feet to dart away. “Back off!” The Olo’eyktan warned sharply, his hand flying to his own knife, to which Jake ignored him and kept advancing at an alarming speed.

“Just bloody show me!” The marine ordered, “it’s important.”

Tsu’tey did not look impressed, but judging by the way Jake was clearly not about to give up, he found it safer to just do as he was asked. With a withered glare, he pulled his braid over his shoulder and lifted the end so that his tendrils emerged from the end. To your fascination, the usually pastel lilac skin of them, had deepened into a plum purple.

Mo’at’s breath audibly stuttered as Neytiri let out a strangled sound. You simply stared, transfixed by the gorgeous new shade of purple. So little was known about the na’vi, it hadn’t even occurred to the science department to investigate how bonding could alter an individual’s pigment, let alone how that might impact their instincts. It was fascinating how your own body had changed because of the bond. 

“You did not!” Jake laughed, stepping closer, only for Tsu’tey to drop his braid and snap his teeth at him. Luckily, the marine did not seem interested in a fight. He backed away, still grinning. “God, Norm owes me so much money!”

“You did not bet on us!” You interjected, feeling suddenly betrayed.

Jake just grinned. “Of course we did. We knew it was going to happen.”

“Since when?”

“Since he didn’t kill you on sight.”

“Fuck you. You weren’t even on planet for that shitty introduction.”

“Nope. But the cranky bugger clearly has a soft spot for you. And I noticed that on my first bloody day!”

“I did not!” Tsu’tey immediately interjected, even though the looks the others shot each other clearly indicated that no one believed his flustered outburst. 

Up until this point, Neytiri had largely just been watching how things played out, But now, she was chuckling to herself, a grin of delight causing her ears to flatten uncontrollably as she looked at the mark on your wrist. <”You’re just like Kiolu!”> She suddenly burst out, pointing at Tsu’tey who’s face morphed into an expression of pure offence. 

<”I AM NOT!”>

<”YOU ARE!”> Neytiri accused, cackling loudly enough to upset the birds in the trees. Tsu’tey snarled at her, darting around the fire at an unsettling speed, to which Neytiri frantically clambered to her feet. She sidestepped his clumsy swipe at her torso, still grinning with childish glee. <”YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE PUT A DON’T TOUCH SIGN ON THEIR FOREHEAD!”>

<”I DID NOT DO IT ON PURPOSE!”> Tsu’tey denied, his cheeks practically purple with mortification. 

<”BUT YOU LIKE IT DON’T YOU?”>

<”SHUT UP, YOU NOSY WOMAN!”>

<”YOU’RE EXACTLY LIKE KIOLU!”>

<”AM NOT!”>

The pair promptly dissolved into an intense slap fight, in which Neytiri could barely coordinate her limbs with how hard she was laughing, whereas Tsu’tey just looked mortified.

<”Children. The both of them.”> Mo’at tutted tiredly as she rounded the fire and perched on the log Tsu’tey had just vacated. Amusement shone in her eyes as she watched the pair’s pointless bickering.

”What did Kiolu do?” Jake whispered, eyes still on the pair fighting it out across the fire.

Mo’at sighed, low and heavy as if the story greatly pained her. ”Throughout my time as Tsahik, I have had to treat all sorts of injuries, particularly the injuries of recently mated couples. The People tend to get a little,” she sucked on her teeth, searching for the correct English word. “Possessive.” 

“What did he do?” Jake pressed, leaning in close like the gossip he was.

“Kiolu has always been a biter.” Mo’at said simply, “has been biting everything he could reach since before he broke Tsaheylu with his mother. Naturally, I was prepared for when he took Ayome as his mate. A beautiful couple, might I add, terribly polite and competent. Of course, Ayome had always been the brains of the pair, but no amount of intelligence could stop Kiolu from taking a clean chunk out of Ayome’s rump after they first bonded.”

Jake’s jaw fell open. Mo’at nodded knowingly at his shock.

“When questioned, he argued that Tsaheylu wasn’t enough of a claim. That he needed others to know that Ayome was taken. Possessive bastard.” She added merrily. “Gets that from his father he does.”

“Was Ayome alright?” Jake pressed. 

“Of course, he gave Kiolu a matching bite right back and I ended up with two bloodied hunters cluttering up space in my healing wing for stupid wounds. I never did quite manage to get those scars to fade.” She added almost wistfully. 

“Kiolu still brags about it when he has enough to drink.” Neytiri chimed in, grinning wide enough to rival the light of the fire, whilst Tsu’tey was sulking at her back. His pride had clearly taken a beating. 

The conversation veered off course from there. 

>_<

Tsu’tey stuck close to you as the day wore on and the People prepared to relocate, although he tried to pretend he wasn’t. You would be helping out with a task or carrying an abnormally large basket, only to find him either staring intently at you, or swooping in to steal the object right out of your hands. 

And the entire time, he pouted whilst he did it, as if you had threatened or blackmailed him into taking over every single one of your chores. In truth, you found the exaggerated jut of his lower lip incredibly endearing. But inconveniences like his shadow falling over you whilst you tried to mend were not so welcome.

Pointedly, you glared up at the ridiculous man who studied your needlework with a critical stare. <”You’re in my light.”> You offered pleasantly, to which his gaze dragged up your body to your face. At his back, his tail gave an inquisitive wiggle.

You could feel the curious eyes of the women you were helping, looking between you and the Olo’eyktan. They had welcomed you quickly enough into their ranks after seeing you helping out with other tasks, but you were half worried they might turn you away now that Tsu’tey was being a distraction.

To your surprise, your mate looked pointedly at your face, his eyes dragging over your exo mask, before he turned on his heel and strode away with purpose.

<”What was that about?”> One of the women whispered to her neighbour, whilst another simply shrugged. 

Your face flamed as you returned your attention to your work and ducked your head. 

All too soon, Tsu’tey’s feet reappeared in your peripheral just as your mask beeped that it was in need of a fresh battery. You frowned, noticing the oxygen light had begun to flash. 

Wordlessly, Tsu’tey knelt down in front of you, his hand outstretched with a fresh battery held carefully between his long fingers. <”Jake brought them earlier.”> He explained at your bewildered expression, before pushing the battery more urgently at you as the annoying beeping of your mask began to rise in octaves.

<”Thank you.”>

<”You’d be lost without me.”> He sighed dismissively, as you fiddled with your mask.

By the time you had switched out your batteries, your mate had sat himself down at your back, and gently pulled you back against him so you now had a rather comfortable backrest to lean into whilst you worked. It was hard to suppress your pleased smile, as Tsu’tey loosely wrapped his arms around your stomach and dropped his head so that his chin rested on the crown of your head. It should have been an uncomfortable position for him, all curled up and stiff, but his tail thumped rhythmically against the moss as a soft purr vibrated down your back.

The women you were sat with exchanged knowing looks but wisely did not comment on how attached to you Tsu’tey suddenly was. Usually, he would take steps to touch you subtly, instead of draping himself over you like this. Nostalgically, it was like you were back under HomeTree, finding excuses to stay as close to each other as possible. Oh, to think how far you had come from those simpler times. 

Too soon, eclipse rolled in and the clan began to bed down for the night.

It went without question that you would not be returning to the compound tonight. Instead, Tsu’tey wordlessly ushered you towards his sleeping mat. 

Whilst he busied himself with unstrapping his jewellery and weapons, you glanced towards your vacant avatar. From this angle, the still body looked as if it were merely star gazing and had accidentally nodded off. Its face was relaxed and open, its freckles glowing in time with its sleepy heartbeat. 

Large hands reclaimed your attention, and you turned to find Tsu’tey already laid out across his mat. He was trying and failing miserably to hide his eagerness as he lightly tapped the expanse of mat he’d left for you to lay down on. 

Rolling your eyes, you complied. Setting your knife down alongside Tsu’tey’s within easy reach, you curled up on your side with your back to the man, who immediately curled his arm securely around you, as if he had done it countless times before. It was easy for him to pull you in close and tight so you wouldn’t be able to move in your sleep and disrupt the position of your mask. 

You nodded off almost immediately to the soft rumble of Tsu’tey’s purr.

>_<

The fires were dim and the clan was still aside from the few hunters who kept watch on the cliffs.

You weren’t entirely sure what had woken you. Tsu’tey was still curled up against your back, his breath even and his grip secure. Whereas the night was still with only the trees to rival the steady light of the moon. 

Movement by the embers of the closest fire, caught your attention. And sure enough, there was Jake’s avatar staring blankly into the dying flames, with Neytiri lying a small distance away on their normal mat. Something was off though. He seemed curled in on himself, his head bowed and his tail curled tight around him like one would hug themselves with their arms for reassurance.

Instinctively, you tried to get up to check on him, only to be abruptly reminded of how much stronger na’vi are than humans. With all the strength you possessed in your arms, you tried to sit up, but Tsu’tey wasn’t budging. If anything, he snuffled softly before pulling you an extra inch towards him, his tail flicking up to curl around your ankle. Ultimately, there was no hope of escape.

With an amused huff, you instead craned your neck as far as you could towards the lone figure.

“Jake!” You whisper shouted, feeling satisfied when the marine’s ears flared in acknowledgement. Guiltily, Jake lifted his head to meet your gaze, something distant flickering across his expression. “You alright? Why are you back?”

For several long, tense heartbeats he didn’t respond, and that in itself made you anxious.

Without success, you tried to wiggle out from under Tsu’tey’s arm, only to exhaust yourself before you could get a good angle. Collapsing back down on the mat with a quiet groan, you decided that this was a good enough - and comfortable enough - place for a conversation.

“I didn’t go.” Jake eventually admitted, guiltily avoiding your gaze.

Your brows furrowed. “You need to rest. We have a long day tomorrow.”

“I know. I’ll be able to handle it.” Jake insisted, his tone just falling short of being reassuring. In fact, his quiet statement had the opposite effect on you, because now you knew there was something wrong. And judging by his silence, and resigned tone, it was something that had been eating at him for a long while.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He said too fast. Too dismissively. A world away from the Jake who’d been chewing you out for getting kidnapped only hours before. This Jake just looked and sounded exhausted.

“Jake?” You repeated more firmly, feeling Tsu’tey’s ear flick at your tone. You ran a soothing hand over his arm, listening to his breathing evening out again.

The marine curled in tighter on himself. “I said, nothing!” He snapped defensively.

You sighed and opted for a different approach, the kind of question only Grace would have the balls to ask. “How long have you been linked in, marine?” The following silence told you all you needed to know. “Since this morning?” You prodded, to which Jake ducked his head and glared hard at the embers. “Since last night?” A guilty downturn of his ears. “Oh my god you’re bloody ridiculous.” Your accusations were met with only silence. “Please tell me it hasn’t been more than thirty-six hours?”

“Thirty-two hours actually.”

“That is not better.”

“I know.”

You sighed. “What’s going through your head Jake?” 

Jake lowered his gaze to his lap with a heavy sigh. He seemed to come to a conclusion in his mind before he looked back to you, his golden eyes burning even in the darkness. “Do you-” he faltered, cutting himself off with an irritated growl. You kept all comments to yourself whilst he found his words. 

He tore his eyes from the stripes along his thigh and turned to look at you, his eyes shining with uncertainty. “Do you ever get the feeling like everything is backwards?” 

The question hung between you, heavy with tension and unspoken connotations. You swallowed, having feared this was where the conversation was going. You weren’t unfamiliar with this situation, everyone who went through the Avatar Programme, at some point, got so invested in their avatar’s life and abilities that they found it hard to stop. This was different, you knew. This was more than a forest trek gone right and a desire for more time in the link. 

Jake swallowed loudly. “Like this,” he motioned to his avatar body, his hands visibly shaking, “is the real world, and back there,” he motioned vaguely in the direction of the compound, “is the dream?” Another swallow and a sheepish glance away. “I feel wrong in my human body, but this body, it feels right. Do you get that?”

“What are you trying to tell me?”

“I think I want-” he steeled himself, shoulders squaring as if he were about to address his commanding officer who he would need the approval of. “No, I know I want to go through with the consciousness transfer.”

You felt your stomach drop. Abruptly, your mind was back in your avatar, on a horrible day after a series of dreadful events. Anger festered in your heart as grief pricked your eyes. You were looking down at the body of Grace, the glow of Eywa’s influence fading from the vine wrapped around her fragile form. 

You blinked, and it was Jake’s avatar staring back at you blankly, tension lining every limb. 

“Ah.” You forced out, struggling to keep your voice steady. “And how long have you been contemplating this?”

“Since the battle.” Jake admitted, “Quaritch forced me out of my avatar and I was defenceless. I was going to die. And if Neytiri hadn’t interfered I would have. That body, it’s like an exposed limb that I forgot to put armour on before getting into a fight. And I can’t live with the constant fear of being slammed back into it without a moment’s warning.”

His golden eyes were shiny and raw with unspoken emotion now. And at that moment, you didn’t see Jake the marine, or Toruk Makto. In fact, Jake arguably looked more human than he ever had in his other body. Even with his flattened ears and sparkling freckles, he looked like the Jake who had recently lost his brother, but had found home where he had never expected it to be. There was a vulnerableness to him, a fragility that you knew would shatter into a thousand pieces if you chose your words wrong.

“I understand.” You said, and he sucked in a sharp breath. “I truly understand Jake.” You promised him. “But for now, both of your bodies need to sleep.”

“You’re right.” He admitted with a soft chuckle. 

“I often am.”

He simply chuckled, sounding and looking far too drained to rib you back in return. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, he rose slowly to his feet and shuffled back to the mat he and Neytiri shared. You craned your neck to watch him go until he slipped beyond your view. 

<”Sleep Yawne.”> Tsu’tey mumbled sleepily by your ear, his arms applying a comforting amount of pressure around you. Against your will, your eyelids fluttered as you cuddled closer against him, allowing the glass of your mask to press into his chest. 

Come morning, the ikran would be tacked up and loaded with supplies, and the clan would file its way outside of the shelter of the Well of Souls. As the People sang and encouraged one another, an RDA chopper would whizz across the sky, carrying the compound towards a safe new location.

But for now, you simply basked in Tsu’tey’s comforting presence and wondered how you got so lucky.

Previous Chapter <- Act 8 -> Next Chapter

#tsu'tey #avatar #tsu'tey x reader #protective Tsu'tey #human reader #Jake being a worried mess #Norm is done with his shit #Neytiri is the only sane one of the bunch #Mo'at is tired of the lot of them #tension #I just know Mo'at holds all the village gossip in the palm of her hand

[mannylikessims]

The True Story of the Villareal Family [2.5]

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Crickets chirped outside the Villareal residence, a mansion that lay nestled in the center of its own private island. A place so isolated, no one in the town of Windenburg could hear you even if you cried out.

“Dinner’s ready!” Hugo cried out.

After a few nights of rest, he felt refreshed enough to cook for the family again.

The Villareals assembled at the dining table, greeted by an entire roasted bass rubbed in spices and a caprese salad with a tastefully drizzled balsamic reduction.

“Oh, this looks great,” said Luna, glancing up from her phone. “Thank you, Hugo.”

“Yes, yes, what she said,” said Jacques.

Jacques had to be very careful right now after his failure earlier this week. He couldn’t risk his children becoming suspicious of him before his deed was accomplished. For everything to work out to his maximum benefit, he needed to plan the perfect accident.

It was just a few more days of pretending to be a normal father, he promised himself. Then he would be free to pursue his hobbies unfettered for the rest of his life.

If only Hugo would stop staring at him.

He cleared his throat. “So, offspring, how was school today?” Excellent question, he told himself. Very fatherlike.

“They brought some dead frogs to class for us to dissect today. It was upsetting,” complained Max.

“Aw, I remember when we had to do that,” said Luna sympathetically. “It’s pretty gross, isn’t it? I understand how you feel.”

Max huffed but ate his fish quietly, because, in fact, his sister did not understand how he felt. He wasn’t upset that they had to dissect frogs; he was upset that the frogs were delivered already dead.

“Offspring, how about we plan our next Family Fun Day, hm?” Jacques asked. Nicely slipped that in there, he thought to himself. Not suspicious at all.

“Ooh what if we went back to the Von Haunt Estate?” said Luna while Jacques resisted the urge to scold her for being on her phone during dinner. “That was so fun for everyone last time!”

If she had looked up from her phone, she might’ve seen Hugo giving her a dirty look. And she definitely would have seen her father’s face shrivel up like an angry prune at the mention of the Von Haunt Estate.

“Well, maybe we could if someone hadn’t gotten me banned from that cherished tourist destination.” He looked pointedly at Max, who was nonchalantly stabbing his fish, pretending not to notice his father’s ire.

The Von Haunt Estate used to be his favorite place to go to dress up as a knight and play chess. Used to be. Getting banned from his favorite establishment was the final incident that had triggered Jacques’ evil plans. Keep it together, Jacques, he reminded himself. It’ll all be over soon.

“I’ve got it!” he said, changing from scowling to beaming in an instant. “How about a Family Fun Day at the spa?”

His eyes grew as wide as their dinner plates. “Say, wouldn’t it be nice to sit in a sweltering hot sauna for the rest of your lives?”

The table went silent.

“What’s a sauna?” said Max.

“What, you don’t know? It’s a hot, steamy room, and if you stay in there too long, you–“

“Dad, spas don’t exist in our world.” Hugo suddenly interrupted. This was the first thing he’d said since they sat down – he’d spent the entire meal quiet with a glassy, faraway look on his face.

His father fumed. Another ingenious plan of his, foiled?

He slammed his fists onto the table, the tableware clattering. “Well, plum this!”

Luna gasped. “Dad, language! Not in front of Max!”

Jaques stood up and slammed his chair into the table, muttering under his breath as he stormed out of the dining room, the children watching him.

"Cheapskate Watcher. How dare she not have saunas?"

The kids were left alone in the dining room in an uneasy silence. Their father’s mood swings seemed a bit, well, swingier than usual.

Max was still grinning, however, because he had just learned a new word.

“Plum, haha!” he chuckled. “Plum, plum, plum…”

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#thesims4 #simlit #sims4 #windenburg #villareal #get together #the true story of the villareal family #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims story #ts4 story #luna villareal #hugo villareal #jacques villareal #max villareal #tTSotVF

[quicktimeeventfull]

Animal Games: A Lawlight Gone Girl AU (Part One) 1.8k words Read here or on AO3 L has moved his lovely, vile, and entirely batshit husband out of their beautiful Brooklyn brownstone into a Missouri suburb, then left him to his own devices. He is under the impression that this is going to end well. Thank you so much to @lightyaoigami for doing so much research and providing so much fascinating insight into New York and also America more broadly. Also thank you for being so encouraging about this!!

There was something deeply wrong with my husband.

I wasn’t sure precisely what it was. Or, rather, I knew exactly what it was, but it was difficult to explain to anyone else why it was a problem.

The issue was this: Light had become nice.

I know this sounds cruel. I know it sounds uncharitable. But Light is not a nice person. I didn’t marry him because I wanted someone nice — I married him because he was brilliant, scintillating, and occasionally vile. I liked the sealed locket quality of him. To the rest of the world, he was a pleasant and pretty thing, always smiling, always kind, practically kissing babies as he walked down the street.

But I knew what was inside. Something rotting. Something sharp and violent, something foul and real. I loved that. I could open him up any time and look.

He was like any animal, I suppose. Pleasant on the outside, bone and guts within. Meat you wouldn’t want to sink your hands into.

But I did. I was the only one allowed.

Figuratively. Of course. Let me be clear.

---

But anyway, returning to the point. I’d dragged him out of our lovely Brooklyn home for — and, oh, he hated this — a job I’d gotten in Missouri. This was the only logical course of action. He wrote quizzes, you see. It was a job you could do anywhere. This had all been cleared by his editors.

He didn’t even like the job. He complained about it all the time. He said it was beneath him, and he was right. I thought, stupidly, selfishly, that this might even be a good opportunity for him. He’d get away from our little shoebox apartment where he spent all day tucked up against the window, simmering as he scribbled down his little quizzes about what sorts of fruit best suited your personality and how your sex life was going. (Just fine, thanks.) I thought he might reconsider, and find something more suited to his person.

Mine was as a journalist. It was a proper job. Again, not polite to say, but true. It would pay the bills, and his would not. The circumstances left us with no other options. I thought he understood this.

Stupid. Absolutely idiotic. To treat him like a houseplant which could simply be picked up and moved to an equivalently sunny window, irrespective of the view; to believe him when he said it was just fine of course, don’t worry about me. The day we arrived at our brand-new home, I’d gestured him inside, moronically happy with this two-story building with its attached garage and its little dirt plot meant for flowers, unfilled.

I’d grown up in a series of foster homes, shifted around according to the unknowable whims of the state adoption system, and a clever little New York apartment simply didn’t have any appeal for me. I’d wanted something rooted. Ugly, if it needed to be; gauche was fine. Gauche was better, in fact. I just wanted it to be stuck very firmly in the ground, immobile, permanent. This was, I knew, contradictory to the person he liked me to be, but so it had to be — I couldn’t spend all my time darting around, catering to the concept of me he’d built up in my head. That clever and ethereal figure, a series of intricate moving parts instead of someone fundamentally boring and prone to both fits of childish, sulking collapse and long periods of mind-numbing depression. Where I’d failed was I thought he felt the same way. I thought he was also exhausted by all the movement and all the performance.

I’d looked over at him, very pleased with myself for fetching us this lovely place, and I’d seen his lip curled, his face twisted with what was unmistakably revulsion.

“You saw the pictures,” I’d said, irritated. “We looked at them together.”

“Oh,” he said, his voice sharp and high. It was the voice he used with strangers he particularly hated, sweet and bubble-gum bright. They never saw through it. He’d never used it with me. “Did we? Was that together? When I was peeking over your shoulder while you flicked through pictures on your tiny laptop?”

“Yes.” I was getting mad, now. It really had been. He was making it sound like he was just waltzing around in the back of the room while I looked at whatever I wanted to look at. In reality, he’d sat down right next to me with his head on my shoulder and his arm curled around my waist. He’d sat in my lap, at one point. He’d said all of his opinions. I thought we were having a nice time. And yes, this was more of a compromise for him than it was for me, but he’d still picked.

He was ruining the moment, I thought. This was what I’d always wanted, all of my life, and he was ruining it.

“Well, that’s just fine, then,” he said. “If I saw the pictures.” Then he walked away from me, his step quick, right into our brand new home. Without me. He didn’t look back. ---

So there is was. I had broken something — something in him, and something between us. I knew this, but I hadn’t yet grasped the extent of it.

I thought that whatever it was would be manageable. No, it was worse than that — I’d thought that I wouldn’t have to manage it. We could unpack the van and wash the dishes together and everything would be just as it was. Maybe we wouldn’t have to mention it at all. He would come to understand that this was what we were meant for. Our house in Missouri. Our flower plot. Children, someday, maybe, if the circumstances were right.

Our New York life had been nothing but a series of ephemeral things. The brownstone back in Cobble Hill, which we could afford only through the grace of my grandfather’s generosity; the friends we’d make then inevitably lose when they moved to less expensive cities; our paychecks spilt into the fleeting treasures you cherish when the future costs too much to buy, coffees with macadamia milk and shirts bought outside of the clearance rack; and his hand, pulling me half-drunk and half-starved and laughing from the pretty little wine bars he was so fond of, pulling me into the streetlights, the snow drifting around us, lit golden, melting on his eyelashes, which were now golden too, a Midas touch of a boy, his lips scarcely a breath from mine and hovering in the space between a desire and a kiss; those lips twisting upwards, carrying a smile cruel and adoring in turns, the barest hint of teeth behind them, my lovely violent animal — all those things were childish playthings to be cast away.

This was it. This was what we’d been working towards. I thought we were on the same page. The circumstances of our lives, I believed, were secondary to the union of us.

I had assumed that I was enough. ---

The night before our anniversary, which is to say the night before my he went missing, my husband slipped into our bed.

For months now he’d been sleeping on the far edge of our mattress, our covers shared but his pillows pulled so far away from mine that it would have been strange for me to draw close. This was the bargain that had been made for me — my cruel little husband had become kind, but he did not touch me. He spoke to me, but only barely. There was sweetness in it, but no warmth.

But tonight he curled beside me, the heat of his body so familiar and so long absent. He pulled my arms apart and crawled inside.

My husband smiled up at me. Gentle, harmless. He smelt like mint toothpaste and the fig soap I’d purchased for him at a fancy little boutique on my way home from work. It hadn’t been a New York fancy boutique, but it had been nice enough. There had been knitting and posters on the wall advertising hot yoga. He’d told me he’d liked it, his voice like sugar, but it had disappeared from the bathroom after that. I’d assumed he’d thrown it out, but apparently he’d stashed it somewhere in the house. This did not seem significant to me.

I reached to touch his hair, then pulled away. It had been so long since he’d let me. It felt like a dream. I was afraid of disturbing it by moving too quick towards what I wanted.

He took my hand. “Don’t be silly,” he said. Strange words, from this new and sweeter version of himself, but there was enough of that old grit in it that my breath caught. He cupped my hand around his jaw, the way he’d once liked me to touch him, then arched upwards and kissed me.

It was not chaste, but it was quick. I’d hardly slipped my hands around his waist before he pulled away. I thought he might leave altogether, but instead he pressed his body closer.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I’ve been strange. Look. I understand, now, why we had to leave. I miss our old life, but this isn’t so awful.” He put his hand on mine, very lightly. The two of us lay there with our fingers hovering above the bone of his hip. I was having quite a bit of trouble keeping my breath even. “You know what’s important? It’s you. It’s that I have you.”

“Oh —“ I had wanted to hear that for a long time. A beat too late, I remembered what I was supposed to say in return. “And I have you. Of course.”

His eyes scanned across my face. He was looking for something, I thought, but I wasn’t sure what. After a moment he smiled again and kissed me one more time. “Things will be different now,” he said. “You’ll want to watch what happens next.”

It was a strange way to phrase what I assumed to be a promise of better things to come, but I wanted it so badly that I pretended it wasn’t. It was unlike me to push the truth of things aside, but I did it anyway; Light had always made me stupid in the moments I most needed to be otherwise.

He burrowed into my chest, and so I supposed the conversation was over. It was so nice to hold him. I kissed the top of his head and he laid his cheek against my collarbone. I cradled him like that until his breathing slowed and shallowed with sleep and then, idiotic with the thought of him, I simply looked, feeling the heat of his body against mine, allowing it to soothe the creeping horror I could not name, the way livestock curls against the farmer’s hand. [Continue to part two]

#death note #lawlight #fic #l lawliet #light yagami #if anything in here is about new york and it makes sense there's a 100% chance its from monica #if its about new york and it doesn't make sense that's on me dfgjgfn i haven't been there in ages #alternate title: L marries a man more bananas than the current rental market #alternate alternate title: give your husband enrichment if u don't want him to fake murder himself #.pages

[jackhughesily]

moving to jersey

illicit affairs au

based on illicit affairs by taylor swift

pairing: sadie mercer x jack hughes

warnings: swearing, covid-19

summary: sadie and dawson move into new jersey and sadie begins school and her season and meets a certain duo.

background

lowercase intended

gif: @turbolainen

moving from canada to the united states was it’s own culture shock, but moving from the small hometown of carbonear, newfoundland to hoboken, new jersey?? a whole new ball game. sadie mercer knew what she was getting herself into moving into a city in another country, and she was so grateful she wasn’t alone, and had her brother, dawson, to rely on when they’re so far away from their family. a 33 hour car ride to be exact, and dawson would keep reminding her as they waited for their uber to take them from the newark airport to their hotel in hoboken. 

“what if i dont make the roster, sade? i can’t just leave you in new jersey and go back to the q.” sadie frowned.

“dawson, you are literally an amazing hockey player. and the devils would be stupid to not put you straight on their roster.” dawson smiled gently at his younger sister.

“you’re always so optimistic.” sadie rolled her eyes and went back to scrolling through her instagram feed.

soon enough the uber pulled up to the airport and the pair hopped in. the 25 minute ride over to their hotel was spent in comfortable silence, but sadie knew her brother was stressing. after all, their entire plan in new jersey was based on dawson making the roster so they could live together since sadie was attending rutgers university. of course they knew that there was a chance that wouldn’t happen, but they were hoping and praying dawson would make it through camp and onto the roster. 

the uber dropped them off at their hotel, and they headed in to get to their room. their apartment lease wasn’t going to start until september 1st, but since that was the same day she was starting classes, they were in new jersey a week in advance. the 2 bed hotel room looked comfortable with a gorgeous view, and the two instantly laid back onto the beds with no want to plan to unpack anything. dawson only had a duffel bag and a backpack, while sadie had a suitcase and her school backpack. the rest of their stuff is supposed to be mailed in when they move into the apartment.

“dude i’m so hungry, those pretzels on the plan were shit.” dawson complained.

“i think there’s a dunkin like two blocks down, or we could go out to eat but i don’t know what’s open at 10pm.” dawson groaned and looked over at his sister,

“dunkin it is.” sadie lightly laughed at her brother’s dramatics, but she was starving as well so she slipped her birkenstocks back on and grabbed one of the keycards. 

it felt so surreal to walk through the city, even if it was 3 blocks to a dunkin donuts, it was so drastically different to their canadian small town. when the siblings arrived at their lovely destination, they were happy to see that the dunkin was in fact still open, even at 10:23pm. 

dawson got an iced tea with a panini and a boston creme donut, while sadie got herself a refresher, a bagel, and a small munchkin box. 

the siblings sat at one of the tables towards the corner of the store and instantly started eating. after about 10 minutes of silence and eating, dawson got up to throw away his trash and sadie followed. 

the pair walked down the street peacefully and enjoyed the late august breeze. sadie snapped a picture of the roads and sent it to the ‘mercer sibling groupchat’ on snapchat.

jessica was the first to open the snap and quickly responded with a picture of herself in her bed holding a thumbs down. sadie felt bad that she was leaving her sister all alone at home for her sophomore year of high school, but she was happy she got to send jess off for her freshman year since sadie was taking her classes online. riley opened it about 2 minutes later and sent back some funny filter, causing all 4 siblings to start sending funny photos. 

once sadie and dawson got back to their hotel, dawson decided to take a shower first, leaving sadie to have to unpack atleast some of her things. about 10 minutes later, dawson came out of the bathroom with a pair of shorts and t-shirt on and began rummaging through his poorly packed bag for his toothbrush. sadie on the other hand, took this as her opportunity to take the bathroom over and grabbed her toiletry bag with her pjs and ran in. 

“i wasn’t done in there!” dawson yelled through the now closed and locked bathroom door. 

“i can’t hear you! i’m showering!” sadie yelled back as she twisted the shower knobs and got in. 

once sadie was finally done with her shower, brushed her hair and her teeth, and did her extensive skincare routine, she opened the door and smiled at her brother as she passed his bed. 

“finally..” he groaned and got up, with his found toothbrush in hand. 

 for the next couple days, sadie and dawson spent their days out in hoboken and newark to get used to the city. dawson, of course, couldn't let the week be a full rest week and started attending a gym nearby, and occasionally dragging sadie with him, resulting in being forced to make tiktoks with her as payment.

soon enough, september 1st rolled around and sadie was beginning her classes and preparation for preseason which was starting the following monday. her schedule was set up nicely by one of the athletic’s guidance counselors, so she only had class once on monday and wednesday, twice on tuesday and thursday. luckily, they were also all at or after 11am. sadie also was lucky to have some classes with some of her teammates so it was easier for her to become friends with them.

liza ryndych and sofia maksimova were also rookies this year, but they were freshmen. sadie, liza, and sofia became a trio during practice as they all were fly/free strokes, and that translated to outside of the pool.

the beginning of september blew by and devils camp was approaching sooner and sooner. sadie was happy to make friends and be in new jersey living out her dream, but each time she came home to her and her brother’s hotel room, the idea of dawson not making roster became more and more prominent. 

it was september 20th, only two days before camp was to start and sadie only had her elective class at 1:30pm. sadie was running late to practice this morning, so she didn’t get the chance to grab herself breakfast. once practice finished at the aquatic center, sadie was starving. on her way back, her and her ‘big’ sofia chichaikina decide to stop by one of the delis in hoboken.

sofia parks her car a little farther up the street from the deli since all the parking spaces right in front of the small shop were taken.

the girls begin to cross the street after the walk sign lights up and make casual small talk about how much practice drained them that morning, until sadie hears a loud boy-ish scream and someone yells out,

"watch out!" causing sadie to stop dead in her tracks in the middle of the street to face the noise. thankfully, sofia had some common sense in her and pulls sadie out from the middle of the road as two boys speed past them on electric scooters yelling out a quick apology.

"assholes!" sofia yells out at them and flips them off.

"are you crazy?? why would you stop in the middle of the street!" she lectured as they walked on the sidewalk.

the two boys park their scooters in front of the deli and jog over to the two girls about to enter.

"hey, we're so sorry about uh.. you know... almost running you guys over.." the slightly taller boy stammers out.

"yeah, just because you're on a scooter, doesn't mean you don't follow basic traffic laws." sofia bit back at him before going on a rant about how their stupidity put not only sadie and sofia's lives in danger but also their own.

sadie took sofia's rant as an opportunity to examine both of the boys. the stuttering boy who almost ran over sadie had longer hair, blue eyes, and a growing in mustache-beard combination. he was wearing a grey nike t-shirt with a pair of basic athletic shorts.

the other boy, who had yelled in the first place for sadie to watch out, was about the same height as his friend. he had long brown hair- lighter than his friends, coming out from under his baseball cap and curling upwards at the ends. he also had blue eyes, but his seemed softer to sadie. he was also wearing a t-shirt and athletic shorts, but the simple outfit still made sadie swoon a little.

"we're really sorry about almost running you guys over with our scooters. it was irresponsible on our ends, we should've watched where we were going." he interrupted and then nudged his friend.

"yeah, we're really sorry. uh, i'll be sure to make sure i'm following traffic patterns next time." sadie looked up at the two boys and sofia rolled her eyes.

"it's okay, sometimes it happens.. i guess. but, thanks for the heads up atleast." the boys nodded back at her, so the girls decided to take that as their que to exit that awkward conversation and finally get their breakfast.

"wait! let us pay for your breakfast, it's the least we could do." the girls looked at eachother, and then back at them.

"sure." they responded. i mean, what college students would pass up free breakfast?

the two girls got on line while the boys went to grab drinks from the fridge. sadie watched them as the one in the hat took out a raspberry snapple and held it up while looking at her, she smiled at him and nodded her head.

"you like him, don't you?" sofia said to her, snapping sadie out of her thoughts.

"what do you mean? i just met him. i don't even know his name or anything. he doesn't know mine." she rambled until sofia smacked her, gently, so she'd realize the boys were back.

"here's your drink, you like snapple?" sadie looked up at him, smiled, and almost got lost in his eyes before she responded,

"oh yeah, one of my favorites." he smiled back at her and sadie thought she was going to melt away in the middle of a deli.

"i'm jack, by the way, my friends ty. he's the one who uh, you know.."

"oh! yeah. i'm sadie, and this is sofia."

soon enough, they finally got to the the front of the line and ordered their breakfast sandwiches. the girls had planned to just eat theirs on the way back to school, but the boys insisted they ate together at one of the tables outside. they had just a simple conversation, mostly the girls talking about school and swim, until sadie realized they've been talking for 15 minutes and they know nothing about the boys.

"wait so do you guys go to school around here too?" the boys glanced at eachother, trying to see how they wanted to play this,

"we actually play hockey." ty revealed quietly, and jack looked over at him like he just told the girls the biggest secret in the world.

"i didn't know rutgers had a hockey team." sadie nodded in agreement to sofia.

"so you guys live around here?" jack changed the subject 'smoothly'.

the group continued to talk until it was time for sofia to leave for one of her classes. the girls were driving over to the new brunswick campus when sadie suddenly put her phone down,

"fi, we didn't get their numbers. or like anything about them other than their names." sofia rolled her eyes,

"i knew you liked one of them, it's okay maybe we'll run into those boys again. hopefully not in a moving vehicle."

little did sadie know, she would run into those boys again, but not where she expected it..

AN: ahhhhhhhh i know this took absolutely forever to come out, and honestly i had the idea in my head but i just wasn't sure of the perfect way to execute it. this'll be the background leading up to the beginning of the song, illicit affairs by my bae taylor swift. let me know what you think about this and any requests!!

tagging mutuals for interaction: @zegras2crosby @bloodydilf @jackhues @drysdalesv @andreburakozy @yankstrash @kjohnson-91 @babydollmarauders @slafkovskyhughes @hockeyboysarehot

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tags: @andrewgarfield2022 @deaddumblbumble @hockeyboysarehot @kjohnson-91 @babydollmarauders @Hughesx3 

#illicit affairs au #sadiemercer x jackhughes #mercer!reader #jackhughes #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #dawson mercer #hockey #nhl #writing #oc x jackhughes #illicit affairs #taylor swift

[writer-in-theory]

the best thing (that's ever been mine) — harringrove

Summary: When Steve and Billy run away from Hawkins together, they find out the story doesn't end at happily ever after. Prompt: B2 — Free Space Pairing: Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove Rating: Mature (suggestive scenes) Word Count: 4k Content Warnings: Alcohol mention, Arguments Read On AO3: Here A/N: Here is my 6th fic for the Billy Hargrove bingo and the kick-off of my countdown to Speak Now (TV)! Thanks once again as always to @serenity-lattes for beta reading this in the middle of the night. @billyhargrovebingo

Billy Hargrove Bingo Masterlist | They Said Speak Now Collection

Spring 1986

The quarry was quiet. 

Sometimes that wasn’t always the case, not since the new senior class moved their parties there since the Hawkins police busted the hangout at Benny’s old diner. Tonight, Steve was lucky, because there was nothing in sight except a blue Camaro that had been rebuilt from the ground up over the past year. Steve had spent plenty of time sitting in the Hargrove-Mayfield garage while Billy worked on the thing, handing over tools and reminding him to take breaks while he was still healing. He’d been healing for months, nearly a year now and still, there were times Steve wondered if Billy would ever get back to how he was before. Steve wondered that about himself too, if the deep wounds across his neck and abdomen would ever fade or if they’d last forever. 

Maybe they would both be healing for a lifetime, but tonight that didn’t matter because the quarry was quiet. The quarry was quiet, and Billy was there, and nothing mattered in the entire world but this. 

Billy was already sitting by the cliff, close enough for the toes of his boots to hang over the edge, knees pulled up near his chest. He was smoking despite the fact that all of his doctors told him it was a bad idea after the injuries he’d sustained. Though after all they’d seen, Steve couldn’t say he blamed him. Sometimes his hand still itched for one, but little Will Byers was allergic to the smoke so he couldn’t, wouldn’t. 

“Those’ll kill you, you know,” Steve spoke, his words echoing out across the space carved out in the world just for them. 

“Been there, done that, Harrington,” Billy said, putting out the cigarette once Steve sat down beside him. Steve sat a little closer to the ledge, letting his legs dangle out over the water below them. “How’re the little shits?”

“Still brats,” Steve laughed, bracing his hands on the ground just behind him so he could tilt back and watch the stars. There weren’t too many clear nights like these in Indiana, and Steve knew to appreciate them when he could. “They’re all at Hop and Joyce’s new place tonight. Eddie’s running their dork squad game again.”

“Dungeons & Dragons is not a dork game,” Billy automatically said. Though Steve couldn’t see the redness overtaking Billy’s cheeks, he knew well enough by now that it was there. “We literally fought half the shit in there; that’s badass, Harrington.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to defend your secret dorky side,” Steve said gently, his cheeky smile turning into a loud laugh as Billy shoved his arm. “Hey, hey! I get it, but I’m just saying they’d love to have you. They keep complaining about they don’t have a, uh, a, brute. You could be their brute.”

“Barbarian,” Billy corrected, trying not to look amused but the smile was peeking through anyway. “And if you want a barbarian, I’ll show you a barbarian.”

Steve was flat on his back in an instant, pulled far enough from the side of the cliff that his legs were back on solid ground. Billy was over him, one hand still left at Steve’s hip where he’d manhandled him, the forearm on the ground above Steve’s head to prop him up. 

“Billy,” Steve spoke, eyes focused on Billy’s blues. “Mm, Billy, as much I love this, it’s not why we came out here.”

Billy’s forehead came to rest gently against Steve’s, his curls falling around them and tickling Steve’s ear. “Talk about a buzzkill, Stevie,” he said lowly, lips so close Steve could feel Billy’s breath against his own. “We could talk later.”

“Billy,” Steve groaned with a laugh, hands pressing against Billy’s chest until the latter sat up, their legs still entangled with each other’s. “We said that last time, and the time before that, and the ti—”

“I get it,” Billy chuckled. “Can’t help it, pretty boy, not when you come over wearing those preppy little polos—”

“Hargrove.”

It was too easy with Billy. It hadn’t always been, not back when both of them were terrified of everything they felt for each other, not when Billy’s dad was still around twisting him into something he never deserved to be. But now, sitting in the spot they’d told each other everything, in the place they had their first kiss and the place Steve promised to still be there after everything at Starcourt, it was like those hardships disappeared. Steve felt like he was flying, like he and Billy were above the clouds coasting across the world with nothing around to stop them. With Billy, here in the quarry with no one but the stars to witness them, Steve felt like they could do anything. 

“We’re really leaving tomorrow.” Billy was looking out at the stars now too, eyes focused in on the sliver of moon still left in the sky. “We’re actually getting out of here. D’you know how batshit that is, Stevie?”

“Yeah, I have an idea,” Steve breathed out, sitting close enough that their shoulders brushed. “Can your car handle the drive?”

“Did you just ask me that?” Billy glanced back at the car and beamed. “She can handle anything, trust me on that. Can you handle it?”

They’d been talking about it for months. Billy had wanted to leave a year ago, right when they’d graduated. Before July hit and the Mind Flayer came back, before Billy was driving out of town to meet up with Steve because they’d been too afraid to get caught together, before Steve had nearly lost him before they could even start a future together. It had been Steve who had been the hold-up, terrified to leave behind the one town he’d always known. Hawkins was safe, known. California was across the country from everything he’d grown up with, was this giant question mark ahead of Steve that both terrified and excited him.

But now, after vanquishing the guy who’d created the entire Upside Down mess, after nearly losing everything and everyone he had ever loved, Steve was ready. Hawkins would always be a place he could return to, but Steve couldn’t wait to see what California had in store for them.

“Yeah, I brought my bag. Let’s go,” Steve spoke, sounding a little breathless now that there was nothing left to do but leave.

“Wait, now? You wanna leave now?”

“Why not?” Steve said back, standing and pulling on Billy’s hand until he stood too. “We’ve already said our goodbyes, what’s there left to do? I don’t need plans, or money, or things. I just need you beside me and I’ll be okay.”

Billy laughed, shaking his head with clear astonishment on his face. “God, you’re gonna drive me wild, Harrington. Let’s go.”

“I’m counting on it, Hargrove. Now c’mon, you’re driving.”

Summer 1986

“Hey, Billy? Lenny came by earlier to let us know that the rent is late agai—”

The first thing Steve noticed was that it was stiflingly hot in the apartment. They’d had the air conditioning off all summer, and by August it was so sweltering outside that there was no saving the inside despite how many windows they had open and ice cubes ready to shove down each others’ shirts. The second thing he noticed was that his partner was laying draped half out the one window in their main room, shoulders squeezed so tightly through the small space that Steve half-wondered if Billy was stuck. The third, and most attention-drawing, thing that Steve noticed was that Billy was hardly dressed—clad in only tiny green athletic shorts that looked suspiciously like a stolen basketball uniform from Hawkins High. 

“Oh,” Steve said, all train of thought lost as he stared at his partner who hadn’t even reacted to him being home yet. “Trying to escape your tower, princess?”

“It’s fuckin’ hot as shit in here,” Billy huffed, pulling himself back inside and immediately tying his hair back up into a bun to get it off of his neck. “Think I’d rather be at work, at least they aren’t trying to boil us alive.”

“Hm, no you don’t,” Steve laughed in return, not needing Billy’s confirmation to know that he was right. 

Although the older man running the diner was kind and had truly taken a chance on them, Steve knew that working as a waiter was never Billy’s dream job. But it promised decent pay and flexible hours while Billy was going through college classes, so really they couldn’t ask for much better. 

“We just gotta get through your classes. Then you’ll be a hotshot teacher raising the world’s next greatest minds, and I’ll be your gorgeous trophy husband,” Steve said, looping his fingers into the waistband of Billy’s shorts to tug him closer. Billy could have held his ground easily, but he let Steve move him, pressing close enough that the familiar scent of his cologne and smoke took over Steve’s senses. 

“Trophy husband, huh?” Billy teased, a warm smile on his face as he leaned in for a kiss. “So what, you’ll quit the garage and sit at home fanning yourself all day?”

“Hm, maybe I’ll find a hobby. Or maybe I can keep working at the garage. It’s kinda therapeutic, you know? I get why you like working on your car now.” 

When Steve was a kid, all he’d ever known of his future was that he’d become a lawyer. He would take over his father’s firm and marry a young, gorgeous blonde who would make his life easier. Robert Harrington would have a stroke if he ever found out that his only son became a mechanic, despite the fact that it was the only job that ever made Steve feel content and like he was really helping people. He loved the calluses on his hands and the smell of oil and sweat that he needed to wash off at the end of a long shift. And while being a lawyer wasn’t in the picture for him anymore, Steve did find a blond who made everything feel worth it.

“How long did Lenny give us?” Billy asked then, expression morphing into something more serious. 

It was harder than they ever thought, living on their own. This was the only apartment they could afford in San Diego, and even then it took all their effort to make rent each month. Most of their scant furniture came from finding items others were throwing away or were housewarming presents from their Hawkins family. Steve had never imagined living in a place like this, but it was theirs, without money with too many strings attached from his parents or hush money covered in blood from the government. 

Steve sighed, patting Billy’s bicep once before moving to their little kitchen to scrape together something resembling dinner. “He said by Friday. Which means I can probably get him to hold out ‘til Monday, but other than that...”

“I don’t get paid ‘til next Friday,” Billy answered, following him into the kitchen to begin prepping the box of pasta Steve had sat out. “Len’ll have to wait.”

“He waited two weeks last month, he won’t go for it again,” Steve said back, feeling his heart begin to race. This all was so new to him. Never before had he dealt with having so little money to his name. Suddenly things that were once simple like groceries became a nightmare. At least he had Billy to lean on when it all got so hard. Besides, this was only their third month in California. It would get better, eventually. “I can ask Rodger if he’ll give me my check early. He might go for it if I agree to pick up some extra weekend shifts from now on.”

“We’ll never see each other. Those are my only days off of class,” Billy said but eventually nodded. “It’s our only option, I get it. Let’s do it.”

“Hey, we’ll make it work,” Steve promised, sitting up on the counter while Billy stirred the pasta. “It’s just for a little bit.”

“We’ll make it work,” Billy repeated, stepping in between Steve’s legs and resting his hands on Steve’s hips. “Until then, we’ll have to make every second count, won’t we, Mr. Hargrove-Harrington?”

“That we will, Mr. Harrington-Hargrove,” Steve returned pointedly. They’d talked about changing their names more recently, though couldn’t decide whose last name should go first. Steve didn’t really care, as long as there was some kind of proof that Billy had chosen him. “Are you gonna scandalize your husband right here on this counter?”

“Mm, I’ll do better than that,” Billy groaned into Steve’s neck, grunting a little as he picked Steve up off the counter and started walking toward the bedroom. 

“Billy, the stove!”

“I got it, Steve,” Billy laughed, switching the heat off with one hand before returning it to its place on the back of Steve’s thigh. “Come on, a pretty thing like you deserves to be taken apart in a real bed.”

“Oh my, how chivalrous of you,” Steve laughed as he was dropped onto the mattress they had laying directly on the floor. “Really, you might as well be a kni—”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You talk too much,” Billy grinned before leaning forward to kiss him. Steve quickly wrapped his arms around the man, melting into the moment completely. “How am I supposed to ravish you properly if you keep running your mouth?”

“Well maybe if you got to it I wouldn’t have time to talk so much,” Steve teased, wondering briefly how he got so lucky as to have this. Sometimes it felt like a dream, like any moment Steve would wake up back in his luxurious bed in Hawkins alone, wishing he was back on this thin mattress with Billy in his arms. 

Billy laughed at that, right against Steve’s jawline. “Hold on then, Stevie, I’ll take you on the ride of your life.”

“God, you’re cheesy,” Steve said before tugging on Billy’s curls to bring his lips up to meet his own. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, pretty boy.”

The next kiss was glorious, the beginning of something that special every time. Steve and Billy got lost in each other, their dinner completely forgotten. 

Autumn 1986

Steve was exhausted. 

It was like every bone in his body had been weighed down with stones, making every movement more and more impossible. By the time he got back to the apartment, all he wanted to do was pass out on the bed and sleep for a week. 

It was supposed to be temporary, the long hours at the garage. But the bills kept coming and Billy’s classes got harder, meaning Steve had to continue picking up work shifts so Billy didn’t have to worry about it. Steve told him it was fine, that he preferred keeping himself so busy. And really, he didn’t mind so much when it meant Billy got to do what he’d always dreamed of. But there were days like this, when everything seemed too impossibly hard, that Steve wondered if there was a better way. 

There wasn’t. All Steve could do was wait for the day when Billy got his degree. It would all be worth it then. For now, he would just have to deal with a little bit of tiredness.

“Hey, Stevie!” Billy cheered once Steve got the door to their apartment open. He wasn’t normally this loud, this excitable, unless...

“Are you drunk?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were busy studying for that final all day?”

“I was,” Billy began to explain, knocking over an empty beer can with his ankle as he picked himself up off the couch. “But then Jamie suggested we go to this bar, and I couldn—”

“A bar?” Was Billy serious? This had to be a joke because there was no way responsible, level-headed Billy would go and spend their hard-earned money on something so frivolous, not now when they were just starting to stay afloat. “Tell me you’re joking. You didn’t go to a bar.”

“Just for a few drinks.”

“A few—Are you fucking kidding me?” Steve scoffed, wishing he were anywhere else but there. He could already feel his pulse building, the heat beginning to burn in his face and chest until it felt like he’d catch fire. This wasn’t how he wanted to spend his night, not after such a terrible shift full of shitty customers and bad attitudes, not when there were rarely nights anymore that he got to see Billy. “I can’t believe you. I worked hard for that money, and you’re off blowing it on booze!”

“You’re not the only one working, you know!” Billy shouted, his own anger catching flame. “I have every right to have a drink, have some fun. You know, since I can’t have any fucking fun with you anymore! And maybe you wouldn’t have to work so hard if you were actually smart enough to get into college too!”

“What does that mean? Huh? What the fuck does that mean, Billy?” Steve asked, feeling the words rip out of his chest in his yelling. “I’m not fun? Well, I’m sorry I’m mad that you’re sitting here drinking instead of working just like your d—”

Billy shut down then, entire expression blanking. “Nothing. It means nothing.”

“Come on, we have to talk about this!” Steve shouted, feeling his anger quickly getting out of control. He tried to wrap his hand around it but it only burnt, raging brighter and brighter until all he could do was watch. “Billy!”

“Not now, Steve,” Billy snapped, walking into the bedroom and slamming the door shut. 

Steve didn’t see Billy again until the morning, when the feeling of a blanket being draped over him on the couch woke him up. He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and slipping his glasses on so he could see Billy standing over him. He still looked upset, expression as closed off and guarded as the night before.

“We should talk,” Steve spoke, clearing his voice to rid it of the raspiness of sleep.

“We should.”

Steve sighed. This was harder than he thought. They never fought, not like this. There were times they disagreed, even when their voices raised with each other, but never once had they sounded so angry at each other. 

It reminded Steve too much of his parents. 

When Steve got old enough to take care of himself, it was the silence that was the most unnerving part. He could get over the nights alone and the dinners he had to learn how to make, but the one thing that never seemed to get better was the soul-crushing silence that pervaded the house. The Harringtons always put on a good mask for their dinner parties and business meetings, but the truth was that they couldn’t stand to be in the same room together for more than a few minutes. Robert and Linda Harrington were master lawyers and master fighters. They knew just the right words to hurl at each other to really make it hurt. 

Steve inherited that trait too, it seemed. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve whispered, feeling all of the guilt and shame hit him at once. He rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head into his hands, unable to look at Billy once the fight rushed back to him. “I’m so sorry, Billy. I didn’t mean it.”

“You’re not your dad.” Steve would hear himself say those words for years, knowing with complete certainty that he’d never be as wrong about something as he was then. Billy was everything that Neil Hargrove was not, and to even insinuate otherwise was a crime of the worst degree. “You’re not, and I never should’ve said it. I was tired and frustrated, but I shouldn’t have. You’re not that.”

Steve took a shuddering breath, scared of what was to come now. He would understand if Billy left after this. It was the one wound that hadn’t healed up from Billy’s past, and Steve had dug his thumb right into it just like his mother had taught him. 

It would hurt, Billy leaving. It would tear something out of Steve’s chest that he’s not sure could ever be rebuilt again. But Steve was good at goodbyes by now. Everyone who’d gotten this close to him, who had seen this side of him that reminded them he was a Harrington, left, eventually. Some people took longer than others, but it always happened. Steve knew Billy would leave someday, too, when he finally saw the very worst of him. He’d just hoped he would have more time with this before that happened.

“Hey, I’m not leaving,” Billy told him, hand reaching out to grab Steve’s wrist. The touch made Steve gasp, the sound wet with the tears flowing steadily down his face. When Steve looked up, he saw Billy was crying too, lip wobbling as he fought to contain the emotion. “I’m sorry too.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, too,” Billy repeated, blue eyes hard with the kind of determination Steve always wished for. “We fought. We both were tired and stressed out and said shit we didn’t mean. But that doesn’t mean I’m leaving.”

“I said you were like your dad, Billy. How can we come back from that?” Steve asked, not quite sure that this was actually happening.

“And I said you were too stupid for college, so we both fucked up. But Steve, you are the best thing. The absolute best thing to ever be mine, there’s no way I’m giving you up after one fight,” Billy sighed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before facing Steve again. “Do you remember the night we left for California?”

“Yeah, out by the quarry.”

It felt like a lifetime ago. It was only November now, but if someone told Steve a year had passed he’d believe it. He couldn’t recognize the person he’d been back then, so filled with hope for the future, not realizing how hard the real world was. 

“You remember what you said? ‘Cause I do.” Billy was smiling now, through the tears, as he recited words Steve had long since forgotten about. “I don’t need plans, or money, or things. I just need you beside me and I’ll be okay.”

“Sounds pretty smart for 19, huh?”

“Smartest damn thing you’ve ever said, Steve,” Billy returned, taking both of Steve’s hands in his own. “This shit is hard, way harder than either of us thought, but we’re not gonna make it through if we don’t work together. If you’re working too hard, you’ll burn yourself out. Lean on me, okay?”

“You’re so stressed with school. I wanted to make it easier.”

“I only see you for five minutes before we go to bed anymore. I miss what we had before, when we were struggling to make rent but we were doing it together. Cut back on your hours, and I’ll pick some back up at the diner. It’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” Billy told him. “I only want to do this together, there’s no other way.”

Steve nodded, taking another gasping breath as the reality of the conversation hit him all at once. Billy was staying. Billy was staying. They had seen the worst of each other all in one night, and instead of running they were staying. 

“Together,” Steve repeated under his breath, slipping one hand from Billy’s so he could rub the tears off of his face. “Okay, we can do it. Together.”

It still felt terrifying in ways Steve didn’t know that he could handle. There was so much to worry about, so many bills and struggles to work through. It felt impossible even glancing at the future ahead of him, but it didn’t matter. None of it mattered because Billy had stayed, and Steve knew with that behind them, they could get through anything.

Together. 

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things #billy hargrove bingo #writes in theory

[minx1o]

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙚𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 ᶠᵗ ʳⁱⁿ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇʟᴜᴅᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀɪɴ ɢᴇɴᴜɪɴᴇʟʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪꜱᴇ ʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴇᴄᴀᴅᴇ ᴀɢᴏ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴀ ʀɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ʜɪꜱ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴡᴏᴍᴀɴ ɪɴ ʜɪꜱ ᴀʀᴍꜱ.

ɪɴꜱᴘɪʀᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ’ꜱ ꜱᴏɴɢ: ꜰᴏᴏʟɪꜱʜ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪʟʟɪᴄɪᴛ ᴀꜰꜰᴀɪʀꜱ

ᴀ/ɴ: ʏᴀ’ʟʟ ᴀʀᴇ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ʏ/ɴ ʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱᴛɢ (ꜱʜᴇ’ꜱ ꜱᴏ ᴅᴇʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʜᴇʀᴇ, ɪᴛꜱ ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇʀɴɪɴɢ) ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ꜰᴏᴏʟɪꜱʜ ᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ꜱᴛᴜᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜱɪɴᴄᴇ ɪᴛ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀ ʟɪʟ (ᴏʙꜱᴄᴇɴᴇʟʏ) ᴅᴇʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʜᴇʜᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴡ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜰᴜɴ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱɪᴅᴇʜᴏᴇ <33

rin itoshi isn’t a good person.

because if he was, he wouldn’t be here right now

sleeping ever so soundly beside you as if everything was okay, his face contorts every now and then, as if  he’s having quite the adventure in his dreams. You cant help the smile that’s creeping in your face. he’s right here, and he’s yours.

For now

Your smile drops into a small frown as you feel the weight of reality against you.

How dare you feel happy about fooling around with what’s not yours.

Suddenly, you feel everything- the sound of his breathing, the banging of your heart, the tiny drops of rain hitting your window, the suffocating sensation of your naked body against his cotton blanket, the cold hand that rests unmoving against your waist, and the torturous guilt that swallows your soul in every second.

you sometimes question how on earth he can lay around leeching onto you as if he cant feel the weight of the cold metallic ring on his finger

you try to reason that it was an arranged marriage and that it was fine

but it in fact, of course- wasn’t fine

however, in spite of knowing that what you have is wrong- your love reigns over your morals either way.

Your love, only yours. Because this man clearly doesn’t give two shits about your existence.

You were simply the only one brave and attractive enough to be sneaking with him unbeknownst to his wife.

You met him way before he was even totally serious about football, you were childhood friends who spent almost everyday together, until you had to leave to study abroad. Tears brim your eyes as you enter your dad’s car on your way to the airport, he stares at you from his bedroom window as you wave your hand to him.

Back then he promised you he would wait for you.

It was like an unofficial confession- one that you clung onto for the next 7 years you spent on another country.

And yet you return only to find out he hadn’t waited for you at all.

You talked it over and figured why would we let a piece of paper determine who on earth we love?

Or at least that’s what you thought.

Because it’s been weeks since he’s reached out to you. Boredom overcomes every blood vessel within you as you scroll through your tiktok like how you have for the past 3 hours.

Your eyes widen as you see an edit of a familiar figure; holding an umbrella over this gorgeous girl. He’s holding a gold-chained purse that obviously didn’t belong to him as he opened the door of his car for her.

He was just being nice

He doesn’t love her-

But who are you to complain? If he was in love, what’s it to you? What gives you the right to act all jealous?

He never said he loved you did he?

Well then, its probably because he doesn’t.

A voice ringing in your head invades your entire consciousness.

Did you actually expect for him to love you?

If he did, he wouldn’t keep you so hidden, would he?

If he loved you then her name shouldn’t be the one he’s screaming to the world.

Your screen fades to black- snapping you back to reality. You open your contacts and clicks his name.

It takes a few seconds to ring when he finally picked up.

“What? You didn’t tell me you were calling, Sumi almost saw your nickname”

“Oh yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, I was just wondering why you haven’t shown up lately”

“I’ve just been busy, I’ll probably be coming over tomorrow, I’ll update you frequently”

So he’s just busy after all

You secretly breathe a sigh of relief

So he does love me, rin has never been good with words, but if he really loved her, he would cut off all contacts with me. You were trying to convince yourself- as delusional as it sounds, it didn’t matter,  it soothed your soul either way

“Oh okay, see you”

You end the call with a smile on your face

Actually, rin has had a lot of affairs before- but you’re convinced that what you and him have is different.

Out of all those girls, I was the only one he promised to love.

Not her, me

Just as promised, he shows up at your doorstep, umbrella in hand. His eyes glisten through the rainwater stuck on his lashes. He puts his coat down as he takes a step towards you- wrapping you with his cold hands.

No words were exchanged between you- just knowing looks and meaningful glances. But you cherish these moments despite it being so empty, because you know that when you wake up tomorrow, he wont be here to hold you anymore.

You’ve been through this a few hundred times- you indulge in the moment while it lasts, this empty and hollow connection is somehow the best part of your existence. And once again, there he is; in all his glory; delicate eyes flutter under the moonlight.

There are a lot of things you don’t know, but one thing you do know is that this may be a sin, and maybe one day, when you’re all grown up and matured, you will look back at these past memories with a disgusted face but that doesn’t matter because for now this is the purest form of love to you. You know he doesn’t love you, but if being an idiot is what it takes to have him near- you were willing to be an absolute delusional fool.

#bllk rin #blue lock #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #rin itoshi #rin x you #rin itoshi angst #rin angst #itoshi rin #reader is delusional #what is this #wtf am i doing with my life

[rogueshadeaux]

Chapter Twenty-Eight — Enigma

I sent a pulse through the water to scare off the giant reptiles, sitting at the edge of the wood planks and swinging my bare feet over, letting them dip into the water and feeling the touch sooth that constant ache in my back.  A constant reminder that something was wrong. 

5.8k words | Good Luck tbfh | TRIGGER WARNINGS: bodily harm/injuries/hallucinations [mentions only], Familial arguing, domestic terrorism? I feel like that counts. Tags warn of a mild chapter I promise.

“Yep,” Zeke Dunbar said as he lowered the vial from his face. Taking off his glasses, he set the sample down on his cluttered desk, leaning back in the green and black gaming chair. “It’s tar, alright.”

Dad looked like he was on the verge of either homicide or suicide. “We know it’s tar,” he said, terse. “What we need to know is what you know about it.”

We were all shoved into the little living room space of Zeke’s stilt house, barely settled in before getting to business. Dad leaned against the little bistro table off on the side, Dr. Sims had claimed a corner to himself and was typing away on a mini laptop on his lap, two regular sized ones on either side of him. Brent was next to me on the miniscule loveseat, leg jiggling away. 

The guy seemed nice enough. The moment we got into his little hut, he had offered us food — ‘course, that constituted as two-day old bachelor pizza and soda cans from a mini-fridge that wasn’t all that cold, but hey, it was something. Especially considering the time was bordering two in the afternoon and we hadn’t eaten a decent meal in eight hours, give or take. 

So that’s where we were now; sitting in his living room — which was smaller than my bedroom back at Salmon Bay, stomaching old supreme pizza slices and watching Dad regret letting Dr. Sims talk him into leaving Washington. 

Zeke bit the temple tip on his glasses, thinking. “It was one of the first big issues we ran into after the Blast,” he began. “The woman that could control the tar was poisoning the water supply, made a buncha people her little minions by getting them to drink it. Once they had enough in them to change into Reapers, that was it. They were practically gone.”

“‘Reapers?’” Brent repeated beside me, mouth full of food. He had to be on what was his eighth slice; the entire way here he was complaining about feeling hungry. In the food and the Conduit sense. Could that have been because of his revival on the Causeway?

“That’s what the faction was called. You’ve gotta understand, after the Blast? It was an apocalyptic wasteland in there. Entire groups of people rose trying to take advantage of the situation. Who was gonna stop them, y’know?” Zeke shrugs. “The Reapers were one of those factions, led by this crazy bitch named Sasha.”

“That’s the one that was captured and experimented on by DARPA, right?” Dr. Sims asked from the side, not looking up from his computer. 

“And the CIA.” Zeke added. “Hated the woman, but she sure got the shit end of the stick.” Zeke shook his head, ridding himself of his thoughts. “Anyways, yeah. Tar was there, and this looks exactly like it.”

“What could it do?” Dad asked. 

Zeke trilled his lips, thinking. “Let’s see…it was different for Cole versus the rest of us normal people, I should warn you. He wasn’t nearly as affected as other people were. He’d get a headache like they would and feel a bit sick to his stomach but there were other things too. Being able to sorta hear Sasha in his head — he’d get these hallucinations—”

“Hallucinations?” I asked. 

My mind was days back and worlds away, standing in front of my mom in that pit of crystals. Could that…could that have been a hallucination? It would have made sense; I was in the middle of nowhere, with a sky that lacked a sun and some underground tunnel that opened up to a tree grove. It didn’t make sense, and I had spent the past few days trying to rationalize that fact to myself. Maybe it was a dream, or something induced by that stasis Dad had found me in when I was floating in the Sound. 

Some selfish little part of me hoped it was more than that, though. Was it irrational to sit there and pray that maybe I experienced death for a moment if it meant I got a second with my mom? Her voice, her laugh — God, I just wanted it all to be real. 

So the confirmation that it wasn’t hurt my heart more than anything else could have. 

Zeke looked at me curiously. “Yeah. He’d see these…mirages or what-have-you of people. Flashes of images, but that’s really it,”

Dad’s head cocked to the side. “Why do you ask, Jeanie?”

I froze; I couldn’t tell Dad about Mom. About what I saw. Not only would he shut down like he always did when she was mentioned, but I…I didn’t really want to share it with anyone at all. It would just lead to questions that I knew would sting, and I was too tired to try and keep myself from crying. 

So I gave a noncommittal shrug. “Just wondering,” I said, adding on, “It wouldn’t…it won’t start happening to me, right?” to sell the lie. 

Zeke shook his head. “Nah, not now. He’d only feel bad for a few hours, would usually shake it off after sleeping.”

“And he’d be perfectly fine the next morning?” Dad nearly demanded. “No lingering symptoms?”

“No, none.”

Dad groaned, looking up at the ceiling. “So this is a dead end.”

Dr. Sims finally looked up from his computer. “Not necessarily,” He began. “Augustine was transferred tar powers.” He stood, taking the small computer with him and setting it on the edge of Zeke’s desk. “Look,”

Dr. Sims’ arms gained those blue circular gauntlets, and there was a flash as the dimly-lit living room was bathed in the same color, pixels spreading through the air before condensing, becoming some holographic screen that free floated in the small open space. 

“When the fuck did you learn to do this?” Dad demanded, looking over at Dr. Sims, who waved him off. 

“I got ahold of nearly half of the DUP’s records years ago during the UN trial,” Dr. Sims began. “Managed to download them without anyone noticing during Augustine’s testimony. There’s one instance of a Conduit with tar powers in the entire seven years they were working—” he pulls up a file featuring the mugshot of this startlingly beautiful woman who was bald, eyes deep and unsettling. Like she knew many different ways to kill a person and get rid of the evidence. “Sasha LaRue, tar Conduit.”

Zeke nodded. “That’s her. Crazy bitch,”

“So what does that mean?” Dad asked, looking through the screen at his friend.

“It means that if there’s any place tar came from, it’s her.” Dr. Sims nodded with his head towards the mugshot. “She was one of the first Conduits they tested on. She was one of the first they killed.”

Brent’s leg stopped jiggling, and he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “But would the DUP keep her tar? How did Archangel get it?”

“You don’t need a Conduit’s powers to do a power transfer,” Dr. Sims started. “You need their rayacitin protein.”

“Their what?”

Dad looked over at us. “Have you guys not gone over Conduit physiology in school?”

I snorted. “They barely went over human physiology, are you kidding? Our teacher was Catholic and skipped over so many things ‘cause she didn’t want to ‘put ideas in our heads,’” 

“Let alone the conduit physiology portion,” Brent grumbled. “They were an affront to God,”

Dad rolled his eyes. “Why did I even pay for you two to go to that school?”

“Well,” Dr. Sims started, “Rayacitin is the protein that gives a Conduit powers. Helps us perform conduvergence — which is when you use your power — and makes your fast healing happen. You only need a copy of that protein to artificially activate a Conduit’s conducrine gland.”

“Which means if they kept any of this woman’s DNA on file, there’s a chance that’s where they got it,” Dad groaned.

Zeke slowly set his glasses on his desk. “There’s…another place they could have gotten her DNA from.”

Dad’s head snapped around to look at Zeke. “What do you mean?” He asked cooly. 

“Well, Sasha was captured by the First Sons, too.” Zeke pointed out. “They drained her of this stuff just like DARPA did, and used it in Empire City—”

“But Empire City’s gone.” Dad interrupted. “How would they get the DNA from her if it’s underwater?” 

“Y’think tar doesn’t float? And Empire City wasn’t the only place them bastards worked.”

Dad glanced over at Dr. Sims. “Where else were they?”

Dr. Sims grimaced. “Well…here. New Marais.”

“This is where the power transfer device was used first too,” Zeke said. “Both versions.”

Brent held up a hand as if in class, but didn’t wait to be called on. “Wait — what’s the First Sons?” He asked. 

“They don’t matter.” Dad started with that annoying finality he’d been carrying around the past few days. I couldn’t take the coddling anymore. 

“Dad,” I began, “If they’re — if they’re a part of this somehow? They’re important.”

“They’re not something you need to worry about—” Dad tried to decide for me instead this time. Decide for me. I huffed a bit, shaking my head, making him blink before his face settled into a scowl. “What?” he demanded. 

“When are you gonna stop acting like we’re—” I struggled for a minute to find the words, “Like we’re too precious to know about this stuff, Dad? Too young?”

Dad grit his teeth. “You are too young to have to worry about this,” he insisted. 

I shook my head. “Didn’t really seem to stop them from doing this,” I said, raising my right arm to show off my nice little prize from the last time I was deemed ‘old enough’ to be a part of this. “We’re adults in ten days. Are you gonna make me wait for answers then, or are you gonna let me try to help figure out how to fix myself? It’s too late for us to not be involved in this.” 

We stared each other down through the blue light of the holographic screen, unblinking. He couldn’t keep leaving me out of things that affect my life and claim he was trying to protect me! I was sick of being treated like I was too fragile to handle anything. 

Dad eventually sighed, looking away. “The First Sons were this cult,” he started, relenting. Definitely didn’t look happy about it, though. “They basically engineered Conduits. Figured out how to activate them fully. They were the reason for the Empire City Blast.”  

“I thought that was a terrorist attack?” Brent asked beside me. 

Zeke shrugged. “Was it not?” 

Everyone fell silent at that; it hadn’t really connected with me before this moment that we were talking to someone that actually managed to survive Empire City. Not until Zeke got that same haunted look on his face Dad would when he talked about Mom or Uncle Reggie. 

Dr. Sims inhaled, taking the reins. “If what you guys found all those years ago working with Raymond Wolfe is true, the DUP seized almost all of the First Sons’ information. There’s nothing regarding them in any of my files beyond the power transfer device.”

Zeke laughed mirthlessly. “You think they did? Especially when half of the organization is in the bottom of the Birmingham Sound?” He shook his head. “Nah. The DUP didn’t have everything, and I can almost guarantee it.” 

Dad’s eyes narrowed at Zeke. “Are you saying you have information they don’t?” 

Zeke nodded. “Without a doubt. Don’t remember exactly what — it’s been nearly twenty years since I’ve touched anything. But I have some dead drops, a few documents. Stuff Cole and I managed to pack on the boat before heading here. Nearly everything we did find while we were here.” 

Dad straightened. “Where is it?” 

“‘Bout thirty miles east, buried underground.” Zeke responded. “But I can go get it. Maybe with all that, and by putting our heads together, we can get a lead on where exactly this Archangel came from, and what they want.”

Zeke stood, cracking his neck before saying, “It’ll take me a few hours to get where I need to go and dig it all up, so why don’t y’all rest up? You guys look beat.” 

There was a brief period where Zeke and Dr. Sims talked before Zeke donned some rain boots and left, footsteps echoing away on the dock outside before the motor to his own boat started. Dad looked at Dr. Sims as he called back the holographic projection accusingly. “I told you coming here was useless,” he said. 

Dr. Sims rolled his eyes. “You don’t know that yet, Del. How about we look at everything he’s got before we say it’s worthless?” He glanced towards us before adding. “Besides, they need to rest, and we need to talk.” 

I didn’t like the look the two exchanged before Dad nodded. “Yeah,” he resigned. “Yeah, okay.”

I woke up on the very edge of the full sized bed, Brent’s snoring in my ear. 

As if plopping too hard onto the bed and breaking the wooden frame with his weight wasn’t enough, he was now spread eagle on the mattress, leaving me the smallest sliver of space on the edge of it. One of my legs had already lost the fight and was lying against the cool wood floor, and there was no shoving him back to regain space when he was too goddamn heavy to move.

The room was almost pitch black thanks to how off the grid it was, the pale quarter moon barely doing anything to cast a light through the window. I nearly headbutt the doorframe as I tiptoed blindly out of the room, my phone — and its flashlight — stored away somewhere so no one could track it to Zeke’s hideout. 

He was really cautious, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was running from. I mean sure, Archangel was a concern now, but he’d been living like this for years if what Dr. Sims said was true. Why the caution, why the fear?

The top of the stairs squeaked under my foot as I went to put my weight on it, so I took the rest of the stairway as a wave, solidifying on the bottom. Something in the center of my back twinged as my skin returned, leaving me to shrug my shoulders awkwardly to get the stiffness out. That gland Dr. Sims talked about, that’s what it was. That’s what hurt. 

Dad was on the loveseat in the living room, legs thrown over its arm. He was asleep, thank god — meaning it was easy to slip past him and open the front door, stepping out into the night. I walked along the dock, looking down at the near-black waters and the small white specks of the alligator eyes that caught the moonlight, twinkling like their own little stars in the abyss. 

I sent a pulse through the water to scare off the giant reptiles, sitting at the edge of the wood planks and swinging my bare feet over, letting them dip into the water and feeling the touch sooth that constant ache in my back. 

A constant reminder that something was wrong. 

It never hurt before. Using my powers. Maybe it was just because I was only really beginning to heal from what happened in that fight with Augustine, or maybe it was because I was in that stasis for a long time; but either way, there was a consistent sting in my shoulders just like when I start to run out of water and need to drain more. Like the organ wasn’t getting enough. 

Was it not? 

I sighed hard, letting my head drop into my hands; I had no idea what was going on anymore. I was confused, and scared, and felt angry that Dad couldn’t even trust me enough to be either without treating me like a child. How was I supposed to ask him questions about what’s happening if I couldn’t be sure he’d tell me the truth? He blames me for all of this, I just know it — and I couldn’t even disagree. 

I sat there in the dark, the chorus of the crickets and the scream of the generator doing nothing to drown out my thoughts. The sound of that car crash on the Causeway and Dr. Sims’ power trying to restart Brent’s heart echoing in my head. The way those icicles felt pushing into my skin. The smoldering of COLE’s burned remains. All haunting. All because of me being trapped in that alley, or turning my back, or doing something I was told not to do. All my fault.

“You know, the gators will bite off your toes if you stay there,” a voice called, making me jump and nearly sending me off the edge of the dock. 

I spun around, looking for the source and failing to find it until Zeke called, “Up here,” from the top of the old train car. He was sitting in one of those folding lawn chairs, using a cooler as a footrest. 

I laughed awkwardly, inwardly cursing; damnit, I was looking for a moment alone! “Nah, I uh,” I glanced back over my shoulder to the water. “I scared them away with my powers.” 

He nodded. “Right, right — water. Y’know, you’re the first water conduit I’ve met. I mean, I’ve met someone that could use steam, ‘couple light Conduits, even another steel one like your brother. But water? That’s a first.” 

I nodded, the awkward silence rushing over us despite all the noise of the night. I was on the verge of bidding him goodnight and going back inside when he motioned for me to join him without speaking.

I hesitated for another moment before moving to join him — what was I going to do, tell the host no? It felt rude to brush him off. So I swallowed my pride, figuring five minutes of my time wasn’t gonna kill me, and walked up to the old train car, climbing the ladder on its side. 

Zeke stood, offering me the chair and refusing to hear otherwise when I argued. He pulled two drinks out of the cooler, offering me a beer. 

I looked at it before glancing up at him. “I’m seventeen,” I said. 

“Woah-ho-hoookay, never mind,” He chuckled, crouching back down to the cooler and setting the offered beer off on the side. The ice in it was already gone, replaced with cool water that sloshed around as he murmured, “Pretty sure I…I’ve got cola here somewhere…” He made some sort of triumphant whooping sound as he pulled out a store-brand coca-cola, passing it to me. 

“Thanks.” I murmured as he closed the cooler and sat on top of it, looking off into the swamp. I fought the top of the can for a moment, trying to open it with the hand in the cast before giving up and swapping hands, frowning. 

“I saw what you did.” Zeke said. “The fight with Augustine. Gotta say, you were impressive — wouldn’t have expected a kid to be able to do all that. The whirlpool? Holy hell. Bet you’re a hit at pool parties.” 

I had to admit, that managed to get me to laugh. I never even stopped to consider the type of things I could do at a pool or a water park or something. “I’ll have to try it when we…when we’re done with this,” I said, the chuckle dying off in my throat. 

Zeke leaned forward, beer hanging in his hand between his legs. “Don’t worry about it, kid,” he began. “We’ll get to the bottom of whatever’s going on.” 

I nodded, unspeaking. How could he be so sure? I definitely wasn’t.

“I got everything from when Cole and I ran around for your pops and Eugene,” Zeke added. “Found some other things from when I was working with the Conduit Rights League and Project Sanctuary, though your dad probably has access to those files, being a part of COLE.”

I glanced over at him. “You…you really were friends with Cole MacGrath?” 

Zeke chuckled. “Friends? We were practically brothers.” He said. “Met him when I moved to Georgia as a kid, I was the new kid and always being, you know, big boned, I immediately was bullied. Didn't matter to Cole though. He came up to me at recess, didn’t even let me talk before pulling me into some spy game, and we were inseparable after that.”

“So you knew each other since you were kids?” 

Zeke nodded. “Eight or something like that.” 

“Wow,” I murmured. The great Cole MacGrath, and Zeke knew him before he hit puberty. “What was it like? Being there for…” I drew off, unsure how to summarize it, “All of it?” 

Zeke chuffed. “Wild, but you also gotta remember — the world was ending. Everything was flipped on its head. Cole having powers was just one of a buncha fucked up things going on, we couldn’t even really concentrate on that.” Zeke took a swig of his beer. “That being said…it was pretty badass. It felt like I was there for my best friend’s superhero origin story. It was like them old comic books we used to read as kids.”

Zeke seemed humored in a melancholic sort of way as he thought back to whatever memory was playing in his mind then, and I let the conversation die for a moment, nursing the soda. 

But — God, I was sitting next to someone who knew Cole MacGrath! The first Conduit. I couldn’t really keep myself from talking as I asked, “How did he deal with it?”

“With his fists, mostly,” Zeke comments, glancing over at me. There was minimal lighting outside — just a few floodlights on the front of the house and the old train car — but it was enough to see that his eyes, now lacking those sunglasses, were brown. “But it was…something else entirely. There was no group or someone to talk to. We were on our own through most of it, especially at the beginning.”

My brows furrowed. “You mean…like, learning to use his powers?” I asked. 

Zeke nodded. “Yeah. Our version of training was having him charge up dead car batteries or shoot mannequins we stole from JCPenney.”

I played with the tab on my soda. “Was it hard for him to figure it out on his own?”

“Both times sucked pretty bad,” Zeke said. “The first time, after his coma, his powers were just outta control.”

My brow furrowed. “His coma?” 

Zeke nodded. “Took him a while to brush off what happened after the Blast.”

After another moment, I asked, “How long was Cole MacGrath in a coma for?”

“You can call him Cole, I don’t think he’d be upset.” Zeke chuckled. “And he ain’t here to yell at you if he is. But, to answer your question, a week. There were actually a couple times he was put outta commission by something.”

A week. “So there’s a chance that — what’s happening to me — it’s something that’ll fix itself?” I asked.

Zeke sighed. “Let’s hope.” 

I didn’t like how noncommittal that answer sounded. 

“Did he ever…” I drew off, unsure of how to phrase the next question. “Was there ever something wrong with his powers after getting hurt?”

Zeke looked over at me, cocking an eyebrow. “Why? Is there something wrong with yours?” 

“Dad said that my mom had something go wrong with hers.” I started. “And I don’t — there’s nothing wrong, but it sorta hurts to use my powers. Like I feel sore when I do.”

Zeke hummed. “Have you told Eugene this? Your father?”

It was still so weird to hear Dr. Sims be referred to so casually. “No,” I admitted. 

“You need to. Anything regarding your health right now, they need to know.” 

I knew he was right. I just didn’t want to admit it; I let Dad know the truth, and he’d put me in bubble wrap and tie a leash to me so I wouldn’t be able to move or stray far without his permission.

There was a moment of silence where I looked down at the drink in my hands before Zeke said, “Once.”

I looked up at the man, who was staring off into space. “Hmm?” 

“There was one time Cole’s powers were messed up after a fight.” Zeke clarified for me. He brought the bottle to his lips and threw his head back, chugging the entire thing in a five second span that I was sure would have impressed Brent if he was here. He moved to open the spare, clearing his throat. “The first time he fought the Beast, it had…broke his powers, I guess you could say. He wasn’t strong, could barely drain. Lost some of his mojo, too — all the old moves he could pull with his electricity? Gone.” 

My brow furrowed. “Like he, what, forgot how to use them?” 

Zeke nodded. “Was too weak to use some moves and had to rebuild himself, but after that? Lost some completely.” 

What? “The Beast broke him?” I asked in disbelief after a moment. Zeke nodded. I’d never heard of anything like that happening before. “Then how…how did he get fixed?” 

“Time. Blast Cores.” Zeke chuckled to himself as an afterthought. “Probably pure spite, too,” 

“Blast Core?”

He looked over at me. “You don’t know what the Core Relays do,” He realized. He readjusted to face me better before continuing, “You know how every nuclear generator has a little core to make the energy, like a battery?” I nodded, prompting Zeke to continue, “Well, Blast Cores were the battery. The middle part that powered up the whole thing, nuclear-style. An informant we had told us how it would give a Conduit new and stronger powers. It’s how he juiced up to fight the Beast in the end.” 

“I didn’t even know the relays were nuclear energy,” I admitted. “Just thought they were some weird battery.” 

“Nope. They’re straight RFE.” Zeke said simply. 

RFE. Ray Field Energy. That was that secondary field of energy they discovered around the earth, I think. It’s what I answered on my Earth Science exam at least.

But something popped up in the back of my mind, in flashes of blue and visions of water. “My Dad, he — there was this thing that happened with a Core Relay. He managed to hit me with the power from it when he was trying to drain it, and it gave me visions of how my powers worked.” I looked over at Zeke. “Did Cole ever experience anything like that?” 

Zeke nodded. “Oh yeah. Sorta like a premonition of how the power worked?” I nodded vigorously. “Yep. He’d get them when connected to a generator too, back in Empire City. We had to bring the electrical grids back online and when he’d connect that current, it did something. Would show him a new power. Dunno why, though.” 

“I think…” I drew off, lowering the can from my lips. “I think it’s because he was connected to the element. It happened to me when I was fighting Augustine — the water helped me when I got hurt. It…it reminded me to breathe and it washed out my cuts, and it gave me these flashes of visions on what to do to fight her. When you’re in your element? I don’t know, it feels like you become—“ I faltered when I looked up to see how Zeke was looking at me. “You become one,” I finished meekly. 

He nodded once. “Kinda how Cole had described it.” He said. “Gotta be nice, that feeling,” 

I shrugged. “It’s something. Kinda weird, kinda cool.” 

He raised the bottle, pausing with it pressed against his bottom lip to ask. “And the hallucination?” 

My heart skipped a beat. “T-the what?” I stuttered. Completely unconvincingly, may I add. 

Zeke finished his swig. “Kid, I’m a lotta things, but I’m not stupid. Not usually, at least. When I was talking about how the tar worked, you looked like you had seen a ghost.” He shrugged. “You ain’t gotta tell me, but I just wanted to ask. Definitely seemed like you had questions.” 

My eyes fell to the ground and then closed, Mom’s form imprinted on the lids. I could still picture her smile with ease, how expressive her eyes were when her voice rang in my head. She wagged her eyebrows a lot when she talked — she seemed so expressive in everything. It felt too real to be fake. “Cole, did he…what were the hallucinations like?” I asked, opening my eyes. I didn’t raise them though. “You probably don’t know, actually—“ 

“No, I do. Somewhat. I know he imagined up his dead girlfriend.” Zeke said solemnly. “Enemies attacking him.”

“Any sort of…terrain change?” I asked gently. 

Zeke shook his head. “No, but then again, he only accidentally swallowed the stuff. I know yours went in your bloodstream, gotta imagine it would change things.” 

I nodded, letting silence fall between us and fiddling with the tab of the can until it popped clean off. Zeke let it linger too, and I wasn’t sure if I was grateful for that, or if the tension of my manufactured memory was enough to make me audibly say it. Confirm to someone else that for a moment, it was true. “I saw my mom.” I said simply. “She’s been — I don’t remember her, she died when we were babies. But she was there in this weird place and had hugged me and talked and laughed and it—“ my voice cracked, and I clammed up immediately. “It felt so real,” I finished on a whisper. 

“You’re worried it’s not,” Zeke declared simply. I just nodded. “Well, lemme ask you something: does it matter?” 

What? I looked up at him, the edges of his form blurry through my tears. “Huh?” 

“In the end, does it matter if it was some hallucination? It was a moment with your mom.” Zeke leaned back, looking up at the stars. “I sometimes have dreams with people I’ve lost. My momma, Cole, my old dog Beefcake. I count them as a different sort of memory; them checking up on me. And I mean, sure, I wake up sad they ain’t real — but does it matter?” He shook his head at his own question. “Nah. It’s important to me, and that’s all that matters.” 

“I just wish I knew what was…true. What’s going on,” I said. 

“We’ll figure it out. Way your dad is going, he’ll have it solved before the week is up.” Zeke said. 

I cringed; Dad was doing nothing but being snippy and rude to Zeke, and it was obvious that he didn’t like the guy. “I’m sorry about him, by th—” I started before Zeke waved a hand, cutting me off. 

“Ain’t your fault. Can’t even get angry at your father. He’s gotta be stressed outta his mind, trying to figure out what’s wrong with his little girl.” Zeke sighed. “Can’t say I wouldn’t act the same, if I were in his shoes. He’s scared outta his mind right now. Can’t fault him for it.”

“He’s mad at me,” I said solemnly. “I keep messing up and getting us into more and more trouble whenever he solves one issue.”

Zeke shook his head. “I don’t believe that—”

“I almost got my brother killed coming down here. I didn’t hide like he wanted me to when we were being shot at by those snipers and Brent almost died because he — he had to worry about keeping me alive. I killed so many people in Seattle. I got kidnapped in Portland ‘cause I wasn’t cautious enough and it ended up getting Archangel to bomb COLE.” I set the can down on the train car’s roof— my hands were shaking too hard to hold it without spilling some. “I keep messing everything up.” 

Zeke leaned forward a bit. “I don’t think he blames you for anything.” He said softly. “Your dad reminds me a lot of Cole — ever since he got his powers, he’s had to sacrifice. I know he lost his brother. I know he lost your mom, and his parents, and a buncha his tribe. He’s scared of losing you too, especially now that someone’s hunting him. He’s stressed and wants to keep you safe — and I bet he feels just as guilty about the fact that he wasn’t able to the last few times. He’s trying to keep you from being in some position where he can’t help.”

I blinked. “I hadn’t…thought of it like that.” I admitted. All of the precaution and anger Dad was feeling; was it because he was scared, not angry at me? Not blaming me for everything that was happening or thinking I was incapable of taking care of myself after getting hurt? 

Zeke left the conversation floating there, letting me sit in my thoughts. I had to admit, it was hard for the silence to feel awkward around him; there was a comfort to his presence that said nothing really needed to be said. It left me to stew in my thoughts regarding Dad, to sit there and imagine a moment in his shoes. Watching him fall into the Sound, not finding him for days, and once I do, him not healing. God, I’ve been so blind. “I think I’m going to go talk to my Dad,” I said suddenly, standing. I’ve been so scared and confused that I’ve been taking it out on him more than understanding he’s feeling the exact same way. 

“Sure,” Zeke nodded. “I’m gonna stay out here a while longer, maybe have one more before bed.” I’ll be in later, if you want to have a private conversation I could hear in the tone. I smiled gratefully at him before whooshing off the edge of the old rail car and down to the dock, solidifying from the wave on its rough wood. 

Dad jumped awake when I walked back into the house, not bothering to be quiet. His arm lit up in ash and ember as he blinked sleep out of his eyes, moments away from blasting off a shot before realizing it was just me. “Jeanie?” He asked scratchily, clearing his throat and shaking the smoke off of his hand. “What’re you doing awake?” He sat fully up, swinging his legs around so he was facing me — and it was then that he realized I was crying. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m sorry.” I couldn’t stop the tears once they started. “I’ve been mean a-and rude with you when all you’ve been trying to do is help me and it’s—“ 

“Hey, hey, no,” Dad hummed. His arms wrapped around me immediately when I hit the ground in front of him on my knees. “It’s okay.” 

“I’m scared.” I admitted into his chest. “I don’t know what’s happening anymore,” 

“I know,” He muttered into my hair. “I know. But I promise you, I’ll do everything in my power to fix this.” 

#infamous erosion #infamous second son #infamous #infamous 2 #fanfic #cole macgrath #delsin rowe #Zeke Dunbar #Eugene Sims #Fetch Walker if you squint #I am so tired of coming up with chapter titles I need y'all to know this #Sucker Punch Productions #An OC teaser as well!!

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Of First Loves and Second Chances

Chapter Two

Words: ~5.5k

Warnings: Some swearing, but nothing else so far as I can remember for this chapter

Notes: Chapter two!! This chapter is the first one that I worked on about a month after Techno had passed, so if there’s inconsistencies in tone, that’s why.... Should I make a taglist for this fic? Do enough people want that for it to be worth my time?  Please let me know.

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Masterlist | Requests

Seven Years Ago...

It had been a couple of weeks since Techno’s abrupt disappearance from your meeting place, and everything had gone back to normal starting the next day. You had almost forgotten about the whole thing, to be honest.

On your way out the door to run some errands down in the market (and maybe pop in to visit Techno at his family’s bookstore...), your mother called out to your back from where she was seated in the parlour, “Oh, darling, hurry back! We’re having dinner with your betrothed's family tonight, and you need to look your best!”

You whirled around to face her. “WHAT?! You chose someone? And you didn’t even think to tell me in advance??”

You mother smiles slightly and takes another sip of her tea, apparently entirely unbothered by your outburst. “Well, darling, it is traditional for it to be kept secret until everything is set in stone,” she says with a small laugh, “Plus, have some faith in your father and I; we think you’ll be quite pleased with our choice.”

Staring at your mother for a moment, taking in her secretive (and somewhat smug) expression, you determine that she wasn’t going to break and tell you anything, so you don’t even bother to try. You turn back around and continue out the door.

Heading towards the market, your thoughts are racing to the point that you barely register your surroundings. Almost on autopilot, your body makes its way to Techno’s family’s bookstore, where you step inside and immediately make your way to the desk at the back.

It isn’t the figure you expect that greets you at the back. Fairly recently, Techno’s dad had brought on a young man, Alex, to assist the family in running the shop, and it’s him that’s standing behind the desk when you walk in.

“Um,” you begin hesitantly as you approach, “is Techno around?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, the whole family’s out today. Said they had some big event to get ready for or something.”

Silence falls for a moment, awkward and stifling, before Alex continues, “Can I... help you find anything?”

You shake your head, turn on your heel and walk out, trying to keep frustrated tears from welling up in your eyes. As you go about your errands, your thoughts ricochet wildly between two trains of thought; who your betrothed-to-be was, and what special event Techno’s family could have been preparing for.

Your parents knew you well enough that there’s no way that they would have gone with Jeremiah or Marjory, right? You had certainly complained about the two of them enough. Although... both of their families were fairly wealthy, which would have made them more appealing candidates. Caleb or Matthew wouldn’t be so bad, you supposed, and neither would Josephine or Lillian, although you had never been friends with or spent much time around any of them. The only person you could imagine enjoying spending the rest of your life around was currently missing....

Actually now that you thought about it, what could Techno’s family possibly be getting ready for? To your knowledge, there were no special events going on in town today, no celebrations at any of the temples. Techno was an only child, and you knew for a fact that it wasn’t his birthday, nor his parents birthdays. Could it be his parents’ anniversary maybe...? No, that wasn’t until the fall. A mystery indeed....

Shaking your head to clear it of the spiralling thoughts, you set course for home, errands now complete.

Upon arriving inside the front door of your home, you were approached by your very frazzled looking mother, who immediately chided you for having been out so long, before thrusting you into the bathroom to begin getting ready for dinner. A part of you wanted to snark back that it was only 1pm and that there was no way you would begin eating before six, but you didn’t think that it would be received very well, so you kept it to yourself.

After bathing thoroughly in the bathroom, you proceed back to your bedroom, where your mother has laid out some clothes for you to wear. You put them on slowly, grimacing at the fancy fabric and high collar, so unlike your usual comfortable attire. Taking a glance in the mirror, you’re comforted to find that the clothes fit well, and compliment your colouring; if you can’t be comfortable, at least you look nice.

Your mother enters then, and you allow her a couple of minutes to fuss over your appearance before you shrug her hands off. “It’s not gonna get any better than this, stop it.”

Your mother lets out a sigh, eyes misty. “I just want everything to be perfect for tonight, Gods, my little one, all grown up,” she sniffles, “Now come, darling, let me fix your hair, it’s in a right state.”

You suppress the urge to groan, taking a seat at the desk in the corner and allowing your mother to get to work.

Time passes by both incredibly slowly and far too quickly, and before you know it, you’ve been polished top to bottom, and your mother is leading you down to the parlour to meet your new fiancé. Your father meets the two of you outside the doors, a broad smile overtaking his face at the sight of you.

“You look wonderful, my dear,” your father says, “He’ll be blown away, I’m sure.”

You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves. “Let’s just get this over with,” you say, and your father obliges, pushing open the door. You file in at the rear, gaze on the floor. One last deep breath in, and you bring your eyes up to look at your future head on.

Your heart stops.

“Techno?”

Because that was certainly who was stood before you, looking a little awkward and uncomfortable in his formal wear, his parents flanking him on either side, much like your own were doing for you. His hair was styled in a much more intricate braid than usual, jewellery glinting on his throat and wrists, and his plain poet's shirt was topped with a waistcoat of brilliant blue. That the colour complimented your own attire was not lost on you.

“Uh,” he began awkwardly, all eyes on him, “surprise?”

You could do nothing but stare in shock at your best friend in all the world, and also, suddenly, your fiancé? A static sound filled your ears. Everything was suddenly overwhelming, the scent of dinner wafting from the kitchen, the feel of the high collar around your throat, choking you, the sight of those red eyes.

Feeling nothing other than the urge to get away, you turned and bolted out the door.

Hearing the shocked cries of your parents behind you, you pushed your body to move faster, to get further away from the overwhelming situation you had found yourself in, body moving almost on instinct out the front doors and into the street, towards the only place you had ever felt truly like yourself.

Seeing it come into view, you begin to slow. Walking the last few yards, you collapse to the ground underneath the tree atop the hill, legs like jelly. Eyes gazing over the river unseeingly, mind reeling, you finally allow yourself to begin processing what had just happened.

You weren’t necessarily... unhappy with your parents decision. The biggest thing, was that Techno had kept it from you. Or had he not known either? He certainly seemed to know ahead of time with the way he had responded to your shock. You trusted him completely, and tradition be damned, he should have at least let you know that his family had put in a bid! Did he not trust you to keep a secret?

A few minutes of silent contemplation later, you hear familiar footsteps approaching behind you.

“Thought I might find you here,” Techno’s voice comes gently from behind you. You keep your gaze resolutely forward, on the last vestiges of the sunset on the river, as he walks up beside you and has a seat. You deliberately move a little further away from him once he’s seated, still keeping your eyes locked on the water, and he sighs.

“I take it you’re unhappy with the situation then?” Techno asks, voice uncharacteristically serious, “I can ask our parents to call the whole thing off if you’d prefer. I just thought you might be happier with it being me than some stranger that you--”

“It’s not that,” you interrupt him mid sentence, still refusing to look at him.

“Well, what is it then?” he says, exasperated. “How am I supposed to fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong?”

Finally, you turn to face him. “You knew.”

He blinks, clearly not expecting the conversation to go in this direction. “Uh, yeah?”

“You knew, and you didn’t tell me? I’ve been agonizing over this for weeks! Did you not trust me to keep it a secret?”

“To be fair,” Techno says, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck, “I didn’t know that the bid had been accepted until this morning.”

“But you never told me that there was even a bid in the first place!”

“I didn’t want to get your hopes up okay? If I had told you we were bidding, if I had given you that hope, and then someone else won, you would have been crushed! I didn’t expect things to move so fast once everything was sorted out, I thought I’d have a chance to let you know privately before the official first meeting!”

At your stony silence, he continues on, far more emotional than usual, “Look, I’m sorry for keeping it from you okay? But you just... you seemed so sad and stressed out when you told me about the whole thing, that I thought if I could convince my parents to bid, then at least there was a chance you wouldn’t end up marrying a stranger that you weren’t even sure if you liked.

“And besides,” he continues on, a little quieter, a little more steady in tone, “my parents were starting to talk about looking for a match for me too. It just made sense to suggest you-- at least I actually like you, which is more than I can say for pretty much everyone else our age around here. And I think--” here he pauses and takes a deep breath-- “I think that I could learn to love you. Like, romantically. I don’t right now, but I think that I could, if you’d give me the chance.”

You stare into his eyes, and find nothing but open honesty there.

Looking away, you mutter, “Alright, fine. We’ll give it a try.” You can practically feel Techno relax next to you.

You scoot a little closer to him, your sides almost touching now. Still looking at your lap, you begin to fiddle with the lace edging on your sleeve as you speak again. “I think I could too. Fall in love with you, I mean.”

Techno puts a hesitant arm around your waist. “Th-that’s good,” he says.

A comfortable silence falls over the two of you for a time, as you lean your head against his shoulder and return your gaze out over the water. After a time, Techno shifts around beside you and moves to stand, offering you his hand once he’s up.

“We should be getting back, it’s almost dark and I’m sure our parents are worried.”

You sigh, but knowing that he’s right, you accept his help to stand, then the two of you stand and begin to make your way back down the hill and towards your house.

After only a couple minutes of walking, Techno clears his throat, prompting you to look over at him. Refusing to meet your eyes, with cheeks flushed a very fetching shade of pale pink, he awkwardly forces out, “You, uh, you look. Really nice. By the way.”

You feel a matching flush spread up your own face. “Oh, thank-you. Um. So do you.” He nods stiffly in return, and you lapse into silence.

Nothing else is said as Techno and you make your way through the city back towards your home. You’re walking so closely together that your hands are brushing every few steps, and after the third or fourth time this happens, you take the initiative and simply grab hold of his hand, lacing your fingers together. You assume that he mustn't mind this, seeing as he didn’t say a word against it when you had first grabbed his hand, and the fact that when you had looked to him to confirm it was okay, you found his face flushed red.

About a block away from your house, Techno abruptly stops and tugs you into a secluded little alcove. It’s dark, only illuminated by a single lamp and a couple dim lights from the surrounding houses.

“Tech? We’re almost back, why did you stop us here?”

He fiddles with something in his pocket for a moment, eyes downcast, before abruptly thrusting a small square object towards you. “I just. Here.”

Taking it from him slowly, he continues on, almost seeming nervous. “It’s traditional to do this in front of family, but I thought you might like something more private. Once you take a look, I can put it back in my pocket and we can pretend that you’re seeing it for the first time once we get back. I just... hope you like it.”

Suddenly, you realize what this is. Slowly and with bated breath, you open the small box. Inside, as you expected, is a ring. Taking a step towards the light to see it better, you give a small gasp when the piece of jewellery is illuminated.

It’s made of silver, gleaming under the light of the lamp. In the centre sits a moderately sized ruby, vine like protrusions surrounding it in elegant swirls. The ruby has a small chip of diamond on either side, nestled in the twists of the vines. On the inside, you can see an inscription, and you tilt the box further into the light until you can read what it says; “For my Starling”.

Techno walks up behind you, appearing relatively nervous. “Alex—you know, the guy who my parents hired to help at the shop? Well, his dad is a silversmith, so he helped me out with making the mould and casting it. I designed it mostly by myself, with some input from Alex and his dad, and--”

You cut him off. “You made this for me?”

“Uh. Yeah? It’s traditional to gift a ring for a betrothal, but if you’d prefer, I can take it back and recast it into a necklace or something.”

“No!” you exclaim, clutching the box to your chest, “It’s beautiful, I love it.” Thrusting the box abruptly into Techno’s hands, you say, “Put it on me, please.”

His eyes widen. He takes the box from you and pulls the ring out of the cushion it had been resting on. The ruby glints where the light hits it; it almost matches Techno’s eyes.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until we get back for this part?” Techno asks you, “Our parents might be pissed that we went against tradition and did this without them.”

“Screw tradition. I’ve never wanted to wear a piece of jewellery more in my life, and if you don’t put it on me in the next ten seconds, I will rip it from your hands and do it myself.”

“Okay, okay. Message received, loud and clear.”

Techno gently takes your left hand in his own. He slips the ring onto your ring finger, where it sits, smooth and cold, against your skin. You take a moment to admire the way it looks against your skin, before a thought occurs to you.

“Hey Techno?”

“Yeah?”

“If you didn’t know that your bid had been accepted until this morning, how come you have a customized ring?”

It’s hard to tell in the dark, but you think he blushes again. “Uh, well. I was kinda planning on giving it to you regardless of who your parents chose...?”

This startles a laugh out of you. “What do you mean?”

“Well, like I said earlier, I can’t really see myself with anybody else in this town, so if your parents had chosen anyone other than me as your betrothed, I was going to ask you to run away with me. We’d get married in the next town over, and never have to worry about it again.

“Thankfully,” he’s quick to add when he sees your expression, “it didn’t come to that, so all’s well.”

And with that, he grabs your hand again, and practically drags you out of the alcove and over to your house. His ears, the only part of his skin you can see, are crimson in the lamplight.

Your parents are less than pleased with the whole situation, both you having stormed out earlier, and the fact that Techno had given you the ring without them present. Listening to your mother rant about “the gall of you young people, besmirching tradition like that”, you catch Techno’s eye from across the room, where he’s getting a similar talking to from his own mother. He rolls his eyes subtly, and you have to suppress the urge to smile.

Once everything has died down a bit later, you find yourself seated next to Techno on the drawing room couch. Moving close enough that your arm is pressed up against his, just barely, you look down at your ring again. The ruby almost dances in the firelight, and you think to yourself that you’ve maybe never been happier than in this moment.

Looking forward to your future, you were excited to spend the rest of it with Techno by your side.

It’s a shame you only got a little over nine months before everything fell apart.

The next couple of days pass in a blur of packing. Niki, a bubbly young woman who works for the army, has been by your side throughout, helping you to organize everything that needed to get done before you could leave this place behind. You were very grateful for her help, certain that you wouldn’t have been able to accomplish half of what needed to be done without her assistance.

Throughout it all, you had seen only glimpses of Technoblade. He was busy helping them break down the main military encampment, Niki explained when you asked her, which you supposed made sense, but that didn’t mean you had to be happy about it. He stopped by briefly each day around noon hour to check in on the progress you were making, but with so much going on, you didn’t have any time to exchange more than pleasantries with him.

There were so many questions that you had for him, namely, what had happened to him after your separation, but this was far too public of a venue for you to even consider asking him about it, so you resigned yourself to waiting until you could be alone.

On the dawn of the fourth day, you found yourself out of bed as the sun was rising, just as you had been instructed. The few personal belongings that you couldn’t bear to be without were packed into a small bag waiting by your feet.

You could see a horse approaching in the distance, though it was still too far away to clearly make out who the rider might be. After a couple more minutes of waiting, it became apparent that it was Techno, and you felt your stomach swoop.

He urged his horse to stop in front of you, before dismounting and shooting you a grin.

“Good morning, Starling. Are you ready to leave this place behind?” At your nod, he offers you a hand, which you don’t hesitate to take. He quickly helps you up into the saddle of the horse, getting your feet situated in a set of stirrups, before vaulting himself up to sit behind you.

You feel your face flush as his body settles against your back, pressed tightly together from shoulders to hips. Techno reaches an arm on either side of you to grab the reins, effectively boxing you in, and you feel your blush deepen, suddenly glad there’s no one around to witness your departure.

“All set?” he murmurs in your ear. You can do nothing but nod as goosebumps rise up on your arms.

Techno urges the horse into motion, and soon you’re trotting through town at a decent clip. Having never ridden many horses before, you’re having a hard time not getting jostled around too much, and it seems that Techno notices this, because he once again leans in to speak into your ear.

“You need to let your body move with the motion of the horse. Stop trying to hold yourself so rigidly, just relax.”

Taking his advice to heart, you slowly relax back into him, until you’re leaning your back quite heavily against his front. It is more comfortable to ride this way, you’ll admit.

You can hear the smile in his voice as he says, “There you go, that’s it.”

Pretty soon, you’re hitting the edge of town, and Techno urges the horse into a canter. The countryside flies by around you, turning quickly into woods, before you come into a clearing where the military camp had been.

The last of the tents look to be coming down upon your arrival, and a few men call out greetings as they pass by, though no one stops to chat. The whole place is alive with noise and activity; it’s a little overwhelming.

Techno navigates the horse through the chaos to the centre of the encampment, where he dismounts quickly and hands the reins to a passerby, before offering you a hand to help you down. You miss his warmth against your back immediately.

Just as Technoblade opens his mouth to speak, a smaller figure scurries up behind him and jumps on his back, screeching, “Surprise, bitch!!”. Techno barely moves with the impact, only to let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Tommy, get off of me.” He jostles the boy a few times until he jumps back down to the ground next to Techno, grinning broadly. “Go grab Phil and Wilbur for me, there’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

“No need for that mate,” a new voice pipes up from behind you, and two more strangers come and join your little circle, “We’re already here.”

“Is this them? The infamous Starling?” The brown-haired man peers at you curiously, almost uncomfortable in its intensity. You shy back from his unwavering gaze, just a little.

Techno must notice your discomfort at the scrutiny, because he’s immediately stepping over to you and pulling you close to his side. “Wilbur, back off. You’re making them uncomfortable.”

Suitably chastised, the brown-haired man takes a step away, raising his hands defensively. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable. But you can’t blame me for being curious, ol’ Techie here has been talking about the mysterious Starling for years!”

“Don’t call me that, please,” Techno sighs out, already seeming done with this interaction, “before I regret deciding to introduce you in the first place.”

The others all laugh. You take a moment to observe their appearances, and it’s with a start that you notice that the shortest of the group has absolutely massive, black-as-night wings protruding from his back.

Noticing your stare, the older man smiles and says, “How’s it going, mate?”

“You have wings,” you blurt out, then cover your mouth, mortified. Across from you, Tommy breaks into snickers, which abruptly taper off after getting a glare from Technoblade.

“Yeah, I do,” the man replies, an amused grin on his face, “I’m Phil, by the way. Official advisor to his Royal Majesty here.” He gestures with his head towards Techno, and your eyes go wide.

“Wait, what?” you whirl around on your old friend. “What does he mean, Royal Majesty?”

Techno looks decidedly awkward now, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. “Um.”

“Did he not tell you?” Wilbur asked with a laugh. At the look of confusion on your face, his manic grin grew even wider. “Oh, this is too good!”

“I was going to tell them,” Techno protested, “But everything was happening so fast, there just wasn’t a good time...”

“Tell me what?” you demand, growing irritated with being in the dark. Pushing out of Techno’s grip, you whirl around the circle the four of them are standing in; nobody makes eye contact with you. “Will somebody please explain what’s going on here?”

Techno takes a deep breath in and takes one of your hands, looking you in the eyes. “I’m the Emperor of the Antarctic Empire,” he says seriously.

You let out a short laugh. “No you’re not.”

He blinks. In the background, Wilbur snorts into his fist, only to be promptly elbowed by Phil. Tommy, meanwhile, just looks confused and slightly offended.

“But... I literally am though,” Techno says slowly. You shake your head. Do they really think you’re dumb enough to buy this?

“No seriously,” he says, holding out his hand. There, on his finger, sits the insignia of the Royal House of the Antarctic. The boar’s head etched in gold gleams in the early morning light, and you suddenly feel quite faint.

Looking up to meet Techno’s eyes, you see in their depths mostly fond amusement, but also a hint of... uncertainty?

Taking a deep breath in and giving Techno’s hand a squeeze of reassurance, you utter the words, “Technoblade. What the fuck.”

Tommy bursts into laughter behind you.

“How? How is this possible??” you continue on, ignoring the antics of everyone else present except for your betrothed. He seems uncomfortable with the scrutiny, but still you press on. “What on earth have you been up to since I saw you last?”

Techno chuckles a bit. “It’s kind of a long story.”

“I trust you’ll tell it to me sometime,” you reply, and he nods to you in affirmation, a hesitant smile on his face.

“Let me introduce you properly to the three stooges here,” Techno says, pivoting around to face them, arm dropping back around your waist.

“You’ve already been introduced to Lord Phillip Craft, my most trusted and closest advisor.” The winged man gives you a little wave and says “Please, just call me Phil.”

Gesturing his arm out to the tallest among them, Techno continues on, “This is Lord Wilbur Soot, my head diplomat. He helped secure the peace deal that granted us your city without siege.” Wilbur smiles at you and extends a hand to shake. When you take it, he instead brings the back of your hand up to his lips for a kiss.

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he says with a smirk, eye-line fixed not on you, but on the man standing rigidly next to you.

“Wilbur please,” Techno says, long suffering. At these words, the man’s smirk only widens. You pull your hand away, face blazing, and tuck yourself more firmly into Techno’s side.

“Moving on,” Techno begins, only to be interrupted by Tommy’s exclamation of, “Yeah, my turn, bitch!”

Unperturbed by the interruption, Techno continues on, “This is Tommy Innit--”

“The absolute biggest man ever!”

“—my personal valet.”

Tommy wilts at the description. “You make me sound so uncool, man!”

“It is an accurate description of your job, I don’t see the problem here,” Techno replies. Despite the callousness of his words, there’s a small but undoubtedly fond smile on his lips.

“It’s lovely to meet you all,” you speak up for the first time in a while. You would have said more, but you’re interrupted by the arrival of a man on horseback.

“My Lords, Your Highness,” the man says, bowing as best he can from on horseback, “the camp has been broken down and your carriages are ready if you’re ready to head for home.”

“Thank-you,” Phil says, “we’ll be right over. You’re dismissed.”

The man bows again, casting a curious gaze over you as he rides off.

Techno turns to face you. “Shall we go, then?”

You nod, and your group begins to head towards the edge of the clearing, where two carriages await.

“Can I ride in with you, Techno?” Tommy asks, wide eyed, hanging off of Techno’s arm. The man in question barely seems to notice the added weight, moving along with his eyes forward and a look of fond exasperation on his face.

“No, Tommy.”

“Aw, but why not? You wouldn’t mind, would you?” Tommy turns his big, blue eyes onto you, and you feel yourself being swayed.

You turn to Technoblade to say that you wouldn’t mind, and he rolls his eyes at the look on your face. Turning back to Tommy, who’s looking on expectantly, Techno says, “Fine. But if you pester them too much, I’m kicking you out.”

Tommy cheers, throwing his hands up in the air, and you can’t help but smile at his antics.

You get loaded up into one of the carriages to wait while the others finish up some last minute preparations before you’re off. Techno slides into the carriage across from you, Tommy throwing himself onto the seat next to him; you assume that Phil and Wilbur are riding in the other carriage.

Tommy keeps up a nearly ceaseless stream of chatter, while Techno busies himself with a hardback book he’s pulled out from somewhere. You can’t help but smile at that—some things never change.

Tommy spends the next couple of hours chatting to you about life in the Empire, and about all the places he’s seen while traveling with the Emperor. He talks a little about how he came into service of the Royal House, though it’s fairly obvious to you that he’s skipped out on some of the details, and a lot about his two best friends back at the palace and the antics that they get up to.

Other than disputing some of Tommy’s wilder stories with a snort or a head shake, Techno remains silent, eyes focused on his book. It’s obvious that he’s listening, however, due to how rarely he’s turning the pages.

Tommy’s come to a natural pause in his rambling when his eyes alight on something on your lap. Lightning quick, the boy leans across the carriage cabin and picks your left hand up to examine it.

“Yo!!” he exclaims, eyes alight with excitement, “Your ring is sick!! Where did you get it? Is that a real ruby?”

Technoblade’s head snaps up from his book. The ruby glints in the sunlight, just as bright as the day you received it, and he stares at it with a strange look on his face.

“You still have it,” Techno says blankly, almost seeming surprised.

You blink, uncertain. “Of course I do. I never take it off.”

Tommy looks between the two of you, visibly confused. He opens his mouth as though to ask a question, when the carriage abruptly shudders to a stop. Wilbur peeks his head through the window, saying, “Time for lunch!” brightly, before vanishing from sight again.

After retrieving some bread and cheese from the cook’s wagon, you retreat again to the safety of your carriage. As you’re finishing up your meal, Techno once again joins you. This time, instead of sliding in across from you, he sits stiffly on the bench next to you, arms just barely touching, and you’re instantly transported back to your parents' drawing room on that night seven years ago, back when you first received your ring.

Leaning further into Techno’s side, you rest your head on his shoulder and twine your fingers with his. He relaxes minutely against you, and pulls his book back out from a pocket in his cloak. As he’s opening it up, Tommy pops back into the carriage, and makes a face at the sight of you.

“Wilbur! I’m riding with you guys now, these two are being all gross and shit!”

You feel Techno huff out a laugh, before he finds his place in the book and begins to read aloud. Shifting around to get more comfortable, you end up nestled under Techno’s arm with your head on his chest as he leans against the side of the carriage; he never falters in his recitation during this, voice remaining even and soft throughout.

You close your eyes and allow his words to paint the picture of the story on your eyelids. This, accompanied by his heartbeat and the gentle rumble of his chest as he speaks soon lull you into a state of drowsy contentedness.

As you allow yourself to drift off to sleep, you once again think to yourself that, much like the night of your betrothal, you’ve never been happier than you are in this moment.

I hope you liked it! The next chapter will be up around the same time next wekk! So, that’s Sunday evening around 5:30pm EST. All feedback is appreciated :)

#technoblade x y/n #technoblade x reader #technoblade imagine #technoblade x you #mcyt imagine #mcyt x you #mcyt x reader #mcyt x y/n #grey's rambles

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 45

First

Previous

Tim had many reasons to think that school for young children was strange.

But the most prudent one at the moment was that, despite the fact that it was only the fourth day of school, the kids were being let out early.

Why, you may ask?

Because it was Damian’s birthday.

Now, Tim wasn’t complaining. He wasn’t going to say that it wasn’t nice. Damian’s class had hosted a tiny party with cake and ArachnidKid themed plates, napkins, cups, and balloons. Maybe it was a little weird drinking from not-Spiderman’s head, but everything tastes better when it’s free and by god was the relative heaviness in his pocket lightening up the flavors on his tongue.

Unfortunately, it was still chocolate cake. But nothing could be perfect.

He smiled as they stepped out into the world not even an hour after they had stepped onto school grounds, a box of leftover cake tucked under Tim’s arm and Damian sitting on Marinette’s shoulders.

Marinette smiled and reached up to pinch his cheek. “Right, Dami, you can pick anything outside of murder, what do you want to do?”

Damian rested his arms on top of her head. “Beach!”

Tim and Marinette both blinked in surprise. They were really expecting something more animal-related. The zoo, or maybe the aquarium. Maybe Damian thought that he would see animals there? Which, granted, wasn’t impossible, Tim was pretty sure that sandy beaches had crabs, hermit crabs, and the occasional starfish… but he wasn’t sure whether they were particularly common.

But, hey, Damian seemed pretty happy at the idea, so if Tim had to spend an entire day looking for a hermit crab then so be it.

He ran his free hand through his hair. “Well, I guess we should get driving as soon as possible, the nearest beach is a pretty long way –.”

“Kaalki,” Marinette said, apparently remembering their mistakes from years prior.

Tim blinked and then touched his glasses. “Oh right.”

~

Marinette raised an eyebrow with a slight smile as Damian tugged on her arm the moment they stepped onto the sand, trying to urge her forward. She glanced back at Tim.

“I’ll set things up. Go have fun,” he said, leaning to press a kiss to her cheek.

She smiled and finally allowed her kid to drag her out towards the waves.

Though, shockingly, Damian didn’t immediately go to play in the water. Instead, he started walking along the coastline, searching for something.

“What do you want, Dami?” She said, gently squeezing the little hand in hers.

He smiled and knelt down. He refused to let go of her hand, so she had to bend over a little as well. This allowed her to see what he was pulling from the sand: a shell. It was nice, a simple white scallop.

She smiled. “Oh, you’re collecting shells?”

“Shells!” He chirped.

She hummed lightly. “Do you want help looking?”

He beamed up at her, nodding fervently.

She quickly found that Damian was surprisingly picky about the shells he chose. He only took the ones that hadn’t been cracked by the ocean, sure, but that was relatively normal and she had somewhat expected that. However, he was discerning beyond that. Did they shine when held up to the sun? If not, they don’t belong in the collection. Were they mussel shells? Evil, put it back. Were they sharp? Offensive that this dead sea animal thought it could hurt him post-mortem, it must be thrown back to sea for its crimes.

He took to all kinds of sea glass, though. Sure, it didn’t shine, but he lit up at the sight of ‘colorful rocks!’ and refused to listen when she explained that, no, actually that was glass that had been weathered by many years-worth of waves.

So that’s how they spent the next thirty or so minutes, their heads bowed to look for shells and sea glass. The pockets on Marinette’s cardigan were getting dangerously full. She needed a distraction of some sort, because she doubted that Damian would take kindly to the idea of putting any of his chosen items back.

She scrambled for something to distract him, preferably something shiny, and then her eyes landed on a conch shell.

Marinette picked it up and winced just slightly at the few holes in the shell.

Damian frowned when she brought it back, mouth opening to tell her that she had to put it down for being imperfect, but she shook her head and pressed a finger to her lips.

She leaned to hold it close to his ear.

“You can listen to the ocean with this.”

His eyes blew wide and he scrambled to take the shell from her. He pressed it harder against his ear, and she hesitated because um, Dami, be careful, you might cut yourself, but she couldn’t bring herself to say anything because he looked positively gleeful as he listened to the ‘waves’.

He pulled it away from his ear and tried to tip out the ‘water’. He looked up at her with a confused frown when none fell out.

She snickered. “From what I remember it’s actually just magnifying the sound of the blood rushing in your ears, but it’s neat isn’t it?”

His mouth dropped open in horror and he pressed a hand to the side of his head. “There’s blood in my ears?!”

~

Listen. Tim had just wanted to show the kid how to make sandcastles… but he had actually never made them before himself and for some reason none of the sand stuck together. When he looked to Marinette for help he had found her asleep on the towel, her face tucked into her arms.

Damn it, she couldn’t be asleep! He would feel bad about waking her up! Didn’t she know he was struggling here?

He looked over just as Damian lifted a new bucket from the Earth, only for all of the sand that they had packed inside to fall. The kid’s shoulders slumped.

Tim scratched his head, trying to think.

“... want to kick up sand?”

Damian had never nodded so fervently in his young life.

(This, of course, led to both of them getting sand in their eyes. Guess they did end up waking Marinette after all. At least she was too busy laughing at their misfortune to be upset about this, though.)

~

Damian had wanted to wade in the water a little. He said that he wanted to look for ‘little guys!’, which Marinette was going to assume meant sea creatures because otherwise the conversation was going to get very concerning very quickly… but, anyway, she had no problems with him going in the water to look for critters, so she had allowed it. Of course she had, it was his birthday… but she had a single condition if he wanted to do so.

Which was how Damian ended up in floaties.

Damian glared up at a cooing Marinette and laughing Tim. He tried to cross his arms, but the dinosaur-themed floaties got in the way.

Marinette ignored the frantic snapping of Tim’s camera – those pictures would surely not be used for evil in the future – as she rested her hands on her knees. “It’s for safety, Dami. You gotta wear it.”

Damian’s glare shifted into a pout.

She sighed and glanced at the water as it rushed over her feet. “So, about the little guys…”

The kid blinked at the sudden reminder and then lit up, all of his anger forgotten in favor of rushing further into the water and squinting down at the seafloor as if he thought he could bully the ocean into showing him a creature.

“Send those pictures to me.”

“Already on it,” Tim said. There was a quiet ping in her pocket as he pocketed his phone and looked at the waves with a critical eye. “So. I’ll look for movement in the sand, you check around the dock over there?”

She nodded. A glance at their kid saw him already distracted. He had apparently decided to make a game with the waves, doing his best to jump over them as they came. He was only successfully able to get his feet out of the water about one out of every seven tries, but at least he was having fun.

Marinette waded not that far away to the ‘dock’ nearby. It was less of a dock and more of a bunch of large cement bricks that were used to gauge water level, but she was less concerned with the semantics than she was with the creatures that were likely hiding among and upon the cement.

She squinted, fingers trailing along the barnacles clustered there. She might have chosen those if she wasn’t scared that Damian would cut himself on the sharp edges. No, it was better that he thought those to be as boring as seaweed…

She lit up as she spotted a periwinkle. It was likely the best thing they were going to find, so she pulled at the periwinkle until it let go of the rock and then headed back over to Damian.

The kid lit up when he saw she was holding something and rushed to meet her at the halfway point, his game forgotten.

He held his hands out and she carefully showed him how to hold the shell. She couldn’t remember whether periwinkles could bite (she was pretty sure they couldn’t, but she wasn’t about to test it with her kid), so she made sure his pudgy little fingers were far away from the opening. He peered into the hole at the bottom of the shell, at the tiny creature taking up residence in it that looked more like a suction cup than anything else.

A faint memory came to her and she knelt next to him.

“Did you know that if you hum to it it will come out of its shell?”

Damian gave her a wide-eyed look before turning to squint at the periwinkle. Then, with a face of utter concentration, he brought the animal close to his mouth and started humming the Happy Birthday Song to the snail repeatedly. Marinette wasn’t sure if it was actually the singing that brought it out or whether it eventually just got curious enough to look, but either way she watched with a smile as a tiny eye poked out searchingly. Damian gasped quietly at the movement and then started humming slightly more aggressively. Slowly but surely the snail poked out and started wiggling as if dancing along to the tune.

Tim found his way over, having found nothing but sand on his search.

Damian showed off the animal with pride.

The sand dusting his hands fell into the waves when Tim clapped politely.

~

“Tim!”

Tim blinked his eyes open with a groan. Damn it. He had spent a large part of his early teenage years using wave sounds to get to sleep and apparently that had come back to bite him even as a twenty-year-old.

And then he remembered that someone had been calling for him because a tiny hand smacked against his chest and oh, he had forgotten to put on sunscreen.

He sat up quickly, holding his chest like he had been shot and groaning a second time.

… someone was laughing at him.

He peeked an eye open so he could glare at his girlfriend/fake wife (if they ever actually got married that was going to be quite strange). This didn’t seem to make her stop. In fact, this made her bring her hand to her mouth to stop herself from drawing too much attention with her giggles.

He huffed. “Why must you laugh at my pain?”

“I’m laughing because I forgot white people get sunburns. Thank you for the reminder,” she said, still snickering.

He ran a lazy hand through his hair. “Happy to be of help.”

She grinned and tossed him their tube of sunscreen. “Here you go, loser.”

“We’ll see who the loser is when you get skin cancer and wrinkles.”

“Tim, I hate to remind you of this, but I don’t really age and therefore neither of those are huge problems for me.”

He blinked once. Twice. And then grumbled to himself as he started rubbing it into his skin. “Anyways, did you just wake me up to laugh at me and make me apply lotion or…?”

“Nah, Dami wanted you.”

His eyes found their way to Damian, who chose that exact moment to slap a sunscreen glob onto Tim’s arm. It, unsurprisingly, splatted, sending sunscreen flying everywhere. The kid’s head jerked backwards in surprise as a tiny dot of sunscreen hit his forehead. And then he gasped in apparent horror. He looked to Tim, his expression one of utter betrayal.

“Help.”

He snorted and carefully swiped the dot off of him with his thumb. And then he got to the long, arduous task that was rubbing in sunscreen. It was a little late now, admittedly, but better late than never… maybe?

Instead of thinking about his rapidly approaching suffering, he looked to his kid.

“So, kiddo, what did you want?”

Damian blinked once. And then he ducked his head in something Tim was pretty sure was embarrassment.

Their kid glanced at Marinette, who smiled and gave an encouraging nod.

And then he reached a hand into one of the pockets on his swim trunks and pulled something out. He shoved it into Tim’s hand and then rushed to hide behind Marinette.

Tim frowned in slight confusion and then looked down.

Oh.

Damian had picked out a shell for him.

It was a nice one. A periwinkle shell, pale pink to the point where it looked almost like a shiny white when the sun hit it.

Granted, it could have been the worst shell ever and Tim wouldn’t have minded because Damian gave it to him. He pressed a sunscreen-covered hand to his mouth, but even that couldn’t fully hide his smile.

“Thanks, kiddo. I love it.”

Damian beamed brighter than the sun.

~~~~~

Next

@unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff @toodaloo-kangaroo @queenz-z @imarivers8 @jeminiikrystal @adrestar @twsssmlmaa @literaryhiraeth @trippingovermyfeet @ev-cupcake @its-maemain

#so you all know i might be a little late with the next chap because of christmas #but it should get out before the end of the year dw #maribat #timari #timinette #shutterbug #timmari #tim drake #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #red robin #i was gonna be like “oh dami's birthday is just one quick scene” #but then i was like #damian in f l o a t i e s #and so now it's longer

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Parenting Struggles

Pairing: Tsunade/Yua (Oc)

Prompt: Parenting

@narutoocshipweek

Disclaimer: I wrote this in 30 minutes on my phone so it's not great but I think it's cute

Words: 877

Raising a child was more difficult than Yua thought it would be. There were tears to wipe away, fears to ease, stories to tell.

It was a never-ending job. A job that she had never imagined herself having when she was younger, but which came with too many rewards to give up. For every tear she had to wipe, there was a tiny hug. Every fear came with an ‘i love you’ once everything was better, not spoken out loud like most kids but whispered against her chest as if it would fly away unheard if her son moved too far back.

“You look like you’re having thoughts,” Tsunade prodded her side, snickering when she turned an ice glare her way. “Come on, Talk to me. What’s on your mind?”

“Other than the fact that I have the worst taste in lovers?” Yua rolled her eyes when Tsunade lifted her glass of sake up as if agreeing with her words. “I’m just… thinking.”

“Thinking is a dangerous game to play,” Leaning in a bit closer, Tsunade began tickling the toddler who was resting peacefully in Yua’s arms. “Isn’t that right, Kakashi? Tell your mom Thinking is dangerous.”

The only response she received was a squeal of laughter, and a poor attempt to squirm himself out of her reach only to find his mother's arms in the way.

“I’m trying to get him to have a nap,” Yua sighed. “If you keep this up he won’t sleep at all.”

“Ah, I don’t think that will be a problem,” retracting her hand, Tsunade watched with a cheerful smile as Kakashi settled back into his mother's hold and closed his eyes. “Kid loves to sleep.”

“You say that, but he just spent the afternoon running around with the hounds,” and what a mess he had made. Yua was going to have to ask the hounds to be a bit more careful. At least until Kakashi was old enough to clean up after himself.

She was rather tired of replanting flowers in the garden or spraying her two-year-old down before he entered the house after an afternoon of playing in the mud.

“Hey,” feeling a finger against her face, Yua glanced Tsunade’s way. There she was greeted with a soft, fond smile. “I’ll help you. You know that.”

“I know,” Tsunade always helped. She had since the day she came to Yua’s home to inform her of Sakumo’s death on a mission. Ever since that day two years ago she had refused to leave Yua’s side, always available to aid her with raising Kakashi or just unwinding once in a while. “I just…”

Parenting wasn’t the job she had imagined for herself when she was young, but she’d been so excited when she’d found out she and Sakumo would-be parents.

She’d planned out an entire future with him. The two of them would teach Kakashi all that they knew, guiding him through the challenges of life step by step.

But Sakumo wasn’t here with her. Not anymore.

He’d only met his son once before becoming little more than a name engraved on the memorial stone in the centre of Konoha’s cemetery.

Everything she had once thought about her future was dead and gone. Her career as a Samurai, her first love.

All she had left was her son and Tsunade.

“You don’t have to explain,” Tsunade assured her, the smile fading into a sad expression. “I know the feeling, but it was you who told me we couldn’t dwell on it. That there was still a future for us.”

A future.

One she couldn’t see quite clear yet. Full of questions and fears she had never thought she would have to face in her life.

“The future,” she whispered, reaching out to steal Tsunade’s cup from her and down the sake while her girlfriend complained in her ear. “I think I like the sound of that.”

“You’d better,” Tsunade huffed. “That was the last of my goodness sake.”

“Oh?” Tilting her head, Yua hugged Kakashi a little closer as his tiny snores filled the air. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you once I lay Kakashi down in bed.”

Her offer was met with laughter. Pure, joyful laughter. A sweet sound for her tattered soul.

“You really are something,” Standing up from her seat, Tsunade stepped in front of Yua and leaned down to kiss her cheek while carefully gathering Kakashi into her arms. “I’ll put him down. You just relax for now.”

“Tsunade, parenting?” Yua gasped dramatically. “A miracle.”

“Perhaps,” Tsunade straightened herself up and glanced down at the toddler now sleeping peacefully in her arms. “But he’s so easy to parent.”

Easy to parent.

That was not a sentence that fit with Kakashi. Not the boy who loved to play with all of Yua’s books, or who ran around rolling in the mud with the hounds and was already starting to show a talent for shinobi skills.

There was nothing easy about the worry she felt every time she looked at her son and wondered if his fate would be the same as his father's.

“He’s certainly… something,” she chuckled, watching as short silver strands of hair danced against his forehead. “My little scarecrow.”

#Tsunade/Yua #TsunaYua #YuaTsuna #narutoocshipweek2022 #it’s dumb and it’s short and i’m SORRY #Mention of Yua/Sakumo #Oc: Yua #Oc: Hatake Yua

[helloblobbyblobfish]

EEKF Chapter 2

Summary: Time to talk about Magic users! I of course mean red and Wind. Hyrule is there too, but he isn’t as important.

So, we’re not continuing with EVERY headcanon I have for Vio. Time for Red to have some love! And Wind. Phantom Hourglass and Spirit Tracks were the Zelda games of my youth. (I’m a hand-held type of guy UwU) So expect lots of headcanons about him too. And a lot of talk about me thinking the group is a lot more magic-oriented as a whole than they show.

 -

Wind POV

It’s another calm day travelling with the rest of the group. This time, we seem to be somewhen between Sky and Four’s time areas, as there doesn’t seem to be that much civilization, but some of the creatures we met are somewhere between what they know. For example, the “octoroks” they fought last night has some green things on their heads reminding me of grass, despite the fact they have a smooth head in Four’s time. But Sky said his “octoroks” have much bigger “grass” on their head as they use it to hide themselves disguised as bushes. Sneaky. By my time, we had purple octopus we called “octorok”. However, I think I have an idea of what Four is used to. His descriptions fit really well with some of those things I met in Oshus’s dream.

Reminds me of my second adventure. Man, Linebeck must be worried nearly as sick as Tetra. Anyway, we are stopping today because not every one of us is as good as Wild or Time to be constantly moving. I’m a pirate. I DID have lots of action on land, but my main way of travelling is a boat, not walking, walking, WALKING. My feet are so sore, and blisters are all over them. Wild and Hyrule were not very sympathetic about it at first. Seeing they always walked, they just complained I needed to walk more often. They were a lot more comprehensive and, of course, over-protective once my feet started to bleed from too much friction against my boots.

Today is one of those days we have when there seems to be nothing going on and we have no idea where to go where Time allow for everyone to relax. Between Sky and Legend’s sleep issues, Wild and Twilight needing to re-stock supplies, Four getting crankier the more time is spent without the swords of the whole group being properly maintained, Hyrule craving for checking any bushes and Warriors caring about his clothes being clean for some weird reason... Well, I wonder if those days are for the physical health of the whole group, or if they are for the physical safety of Time and mental stability of the rest of us.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful that I don’t feel like I’m going to fall if I take another step. It’s just that my reasons for wanting to stop are more physicals than mentals, and I’m not in a need of a lot of sleep. I wonder what the others would think if I said I had an entire adventure in a dream. Legend would scoff and say it doesn’t count, I’m sure. But I’m really annoyed I’m seen as this fragile kid by some of the others.

Thankfully, there is a little river near the location we set camp in today. I would prefer the smell of salt-water in my nose, but at least it’s pretty nice to lie on the floor, listening to the birds and bugs. I wonder if I will see a minish today.

Well, I don’t think 10 minutes happened. But I’m definitively bored. But what to do? I have no idea what to do. I can’t even join Twilight to hunt. I’m not that good with a bow, and that would include quite a bit of walk and waiting too. I am NOT joining Warriors without getting questioned about how I dress, so that’s out of the equation. What does Time do- Right, he disappeared when I wasn’t looking. Warriors is looking over the sleeping Legend and Sky and taking care of his clothes, Four is smithing, and I have no way of knowing where the others are. There isn’t even a seagull to eat an Hyoi pear for me to control them and do some scouting. What can I do????

Humm... I think hard. Hey! When was the last time I trained with the Wind Waker? That’s probably my more powerful artifact! Boy, the wind gods would be pissed I’m not using it at all. They chosen me to be their representants, after all! I scramble on my feet to take my conductor’s baton. What should I try first? The Song of Passing would confuse everyone and the Ballad of Gales... Where would I even warp? And a cyclone would worry the ones close enough to notices it. Well, I guess it’s time for the Wind’s Requiem. Can I call it My Requiem?

Uh, whatever. It’s not like I’m planning on telling anyone I do work for actual gods. Legend and Time especially don’t have good experience with Hylia. Sky would probably bound with me, on the other hand. I’m interested to understand what is even his connection with the goddess. Of course, everyone besides me (and Four, I think. He has a gift from someone, but it’s just different enough for me to suspect it’s not Hylia/Farore) as her gift, but he has a particularly strong feeling of holiness about him. I’m wondering if he is, like, a priest of Hylia? That would be kind of cool, but I can see why he wouldn’t want to share given the mixes emotions about her.

I do have the feeling Time, Legend and Twilight have strong magical protectors besides Hylia. But I’m not sure. And of course, if you know your magic, Hyrule is dripping with the Triforce’s power. I’m sure we’re all just too awkward to just confront him about it. So, let’s see, Up, left, right, up, left, right. There was barely a breeze, but suddenly, I feel the hair blowing in my hair, moving my strands behind me in the wild and making me close my eyes. Up, left, right. Suddenly, the wind doesn’t come from in front of me but from my left, and my hair hit my face.

I start dancing around with the wind. I feel it turning around me and the air charging with magical energy. My eyes might be close, but I start to feel everything my wind can touch, I send it into the forest and-

“Four?” I open my eyes in a panic.

“Hye Wind!” He is holding against a tree, watching me. Thankfully, he seems more excited by what he just saw than angry or confused. “I never saw someone having such an innate connection with an element. Even- Wow! This is awesome! Do you even need an object to focus with? That’s what your baton is, right? Like my rods!” He pulls a simple staff with a red orb at the end. I feel lots of energy coming from it. And it seems like Four is able to influence the energy to an extent. Interesting. I never saw him as being the wizard type. Hyrule and Twilight use their magic a lot- Sorry, Twi. But you and Wolfie have a very unique magical signature.

But apparently, Four also has some secrets. I squint. Wait. He doesn’t have THAT strong of a connection to fire, usually. Honestly, there is this overall energy I’m uncertain about the origins that covers a lot of potential for magic in Four. But right now, that energy has recede to allow elemental power to shine. Sneaky. I wonder if Four does it on purpose? This energy is well-tuned, and he seems to have an eye to detect magical power too. Intriguing....

Four seems to have an idea and pull off a little book out of his outfit. I make the wind slow down with a mere flick of the wrist- Four is right, I’m much better at it than even I admit. I gasp when I take a look at what this book holds inside. Pages of invocation ritual circles are followed by sigils of protections, ritual for the harvest, a fire tornado spell, a shadow invocation ritual that is scribbled out, a tale about the dragons’ powers... Several of those rituals seem to come from other ears than his own, given the fact he seems to have had a hard time traducing the hylian script next to those circles and symbols. “Where did you got those.”

He blushes. “Oh, you know.... When we visit different Hyrules, I like to take notes of the magic they have. Honestly.... I might read History books to smithing techniques to magic grimoires to pure legends to baking recipes, when I visit the libraries of the royal castles we visit.” O... kay?

Four finds the page he was looking for and shove it in my face. He shouts: “I think I have chalk and paper and my bag! How about we try this!” And he runs without waiting for an answer to get the necessary materials. I take a look at the book he dropped. I have tit run a few pages to find what he showed me again. A spell to make objects float? That’s kind of weird. I don’t really see the use. But it apparently is relying on the wind element to be thrown and I wonder if it works. Okay. I snicker for myself. Four may complain when we call him a kid, but he is quite childish at times. But I guess I’m in that age where you do stuff just to see if you can.

Soon enough, we’re sitting on the floor, with Four drawing on the paper, a flat rock. I’m surprised he is so quick at it. He clearly needs to check the drawing several time to be certain it’s correctly drawn, but he has a very good circle and drawn the little letters and symbols with ease. I don’t ask, but I guess he is used to drawing circles. I guess I need to check if he uses magic when we’re travelling. I don’t try to search for this usually, but I’m doubting someone with this apparent skill isn’t using his magic on the regular. I don’t use MY magic a lot either, mind you, but I don’t think wind magic is easy to hide. Fire and symbol magic, though. They can be a lot sneakier when travelling.

He finishes his piece and I recite the spell. The rock the paper is sitting on is suddenly lifted. I check what is happening with the rock. Unlike what I thought would happen, the wind isn’t whirling around the rock like a bubble, keeping it in place far above the ground. Instead, the paper is producing magic and pushing the rock over constantly. I try to move it with my mind, and the paper produces a little breeze that moves to push the rock where I want it to be, like a tentacle.

“You have other strange magics like this in your book?” I ask, awed. Four giggles. Suddenly, I can tell his core is moving away from Fire to Water. The capitals are important. And that’s even stranger. Even the most powerful wizards have one magic they are more used at, even, if they can be good at all the others. Wind had this information from gods themselves.

Four... I had a strange idea all of a sudden.

Four gives me the biggest grin, very proud-looking. “Watch and Learn!” Did he get an... accent? I’m not sure, but his body language strikes me as just, different.

He turns towards the lake and start to moves his hands. Odd. Compared to earlier, he seems a lot less certain of the how. He is putting more energy into this spell than necessary. There is power flowing everywhere without him realizing. But he has such a big well of strength he probably would take some time before getting tired.

To his credit, the spell he just throws is powerful. The lake suddenly has the restless energy of the Great Sea during a tempest. To entertain myself, I push my powers and make the wind act like he should given the strong waves hitting us. Four panics, and turns towards me. “Is it you or me who did this?”

I’m taken aback, so I nod rather than speak. He could see my energy earlier on? At least, I thought? It truly is like this is a different Four.

The one I am mentally nicknaming Water seems relieved. Uh? He is preparing something... A water tornado? Holy shit! There is a tornado inside the waters of the lake? I use my powers to make it sprout out of the water. It’s hard to control it to make sure it doesn’t become dangerous. I bring the Wind Waker out again. I should have prepared this with a growing complexity. Now, we look like two idiots, creating a tempest on a whim.

But then, as I’m feeling bad, Water laughs. “This is AWESOME!” I laugh too. “Hey, I’m trying to make the tornado move, but the water inside is not interested and making it harder than needed!” He looks at me with a look of glee. “Need help? I’m your man!”

And we get the time of our live, making a motherfucking tornado! After some time, it starts to rain, and the realization that the other must have seen this “tempest” and are probably panicking, wondering where we are.

That make us lose our concentration, and the water tornado crash into the lake, making us wet.

When we arrive at camp, we look a lot worse for wear than anyone. Sky and Twilight act like over-protective mothers. Poor Sky. We must have woken him with our tempest.

Later on, we are drying next to the fire. Me and Four are too cold to go to sleep right now. Even if no one liked it, Time allowed to be together for the first watch.

Four suddenly speaks up. “So, can I say we made a splash? That we are a... Dang it! Wind, do you have any idea for a tempest pun? I wanted to say we’re tempestuous, but we’re not! Arrrgggghhhhh” I give him a side glare. “Those puns suck, Four.” He doesn’t do a lot of them, but sometimes, Four has just, the WORST puns possible he throws around at fast pace. TIME is terrified by Four’s dad jokes. He looks at me with annoyance.

I take a quick look. Was that Wind of Earth magic that was prominent before this strange energy covered it again? I guess Four truly has the best-kept secrets ever...

 -

I have many ideas about how magic work in Zelda, but not exactly something coherent. Maybe I shouldn’t have put drawn spells into the mix. Not a lot of canon ground.

Also, during the writing of this chapter (took some time), there was quite the discourse over Sunset part 9 and how JoJo adapted Four and the colors. I... Though they mentioned somewhere they see the colors as only pieces of Four? Honestly, like I think most Four fans, I shoved a lot of Four Swords manga (where they ARE their own people, or at least that how they usually are interpreted) heacannons unto Four. So, I am doing what I want with Four while acknowledging this is not how JojJo see him/them. I always worked like that, including when writing chapter 1, but I am fine with how they handle the character (Red being too childish in my opinion aside.). And the reactions of some fans were... extreme, let’s say.

More positive, Wind the chosen hero of the gods of winds! I love the concept! I adore every fic who had the subject! (And I need to remember than canonically, Hyrule and legend are the magic users, not Four and Wind. I need to remind myself of it A LOT). I’m sure going to put that one every time I write Wind!

Given the lack of mention of them and that Wind isn’t certain what four’s magic is, I guess this happen before Four shows the Minishs to Wind.

And what are YOUR bad pun about wind?

#my writing #lu four #four #E.E.K.F #linked universe #lu wind #wind #four swords manga #Wind Waker #headcannons everywheres #my two babies together #linked universe fic

[glapplebloom]

And the DC Line is Finished!

Master Research Link

What I’ve learned...

So Simion Says is not the only time Mojo did something to the Narrator. And in the comic, the Powerpuff Girls show the ability to break the 4th Wall. They also get the Narrator to forget the entire story, but this could be a game changer depending on their opponent. If they fight someone who breaks the 4th wall, this could reactivate their reality warping powers. Issue 49, we see the Powerpuff Girls fly to overcome the height limit to ride a rollercoaster. And the Amoeba Boys are fuzing

So far the comics are giving the Amoeba Boys some viable stuff. Issue 50 introduces us to the Powerpunk Girls, the Evil version of the Powerpuffs. Nothing too major to note. We got some unique weapons, powers, Buttercup somehow made a monster out of clay. Issue 56 shows the Powerpuff Girls being DIRTY LIARS!!! They totally love Mojo’s cooking! They were just acting like jerks that one time.

Issue 57 has some neat things going for it. Buttercup punches Fuzzy around the planet. HIM hates people who steal from Charities. And Bellum actually has a grandmother. Issue 59 has the biggest reason I want HIM to be in Death Battle. He basically tortured Mojo because he made fun of him. Spent the entire time making his base fill with lava, even when it was up on a tree. We also got a super lame villain in the Blue Bookman. 

So #62 has Morbuck convincing kids to be like her. While the Powerpuff Girls convince the others not to, there is one kid that sticks with it. The Reboot has an episode where Morbucks finds a similar kid. Shame the comic continues to ensure Morbucks stays alone. #63 has Buttercup wanting to deal with a Tentacle Alien by herself. I heard the stories about this situation and I don’t like the implications. And like always, Sedusa does the same thing again and again. If it isn’t Seducing, it's mind controlling. #64, the Amoeba Boys try to convince a kid to jump into an empty swimming pool. Like DUDE!!!

#65 introduces us to the Micro Puffs, basically Mixed Pickles without the powers, I presume. But the real thing to note is when everyone has Sedusa’s hairstyle the girls can’t tell any female apart. Like there’s her figure, the fact she’s wearing skimpy clothing, her skin looking like she bleached it white... I can probably think of 34 different ways to pick Sedusa out from a crowd. Issue 67 brought us the Meat Gun again. And Fuzzy beating the girls in a battle of the bands. It’s just a shame the girls turned it over with a “we totally could have won if we practice” to the audience. And with 69 being the final issue before 70 being a reprint of the first, I’m done with the DC Main Line.

Overall, I thought it was fine. Since the original series usually kept the same formula, there wasn’t much to complain about when it came to continuity. Not like they added new powers or lore. Reading the classic collection to see if there’s anything missing there. The actual first issue. A fun story about the girls trying to draw what they did. The rest of them are reprints in better quality than the original scans. Shame it only gets up to 28

The Cartoon Network Action Pack focuses on the Rowdyruff Boys. Only four issues with them. The first one features the return of Twitchy. Nothing really of note here other than two things: first, industrial salt can remove their Snails (and powers) from them. And the last issue with them has them losing to Cooties despite having their Cootie Shot when they returned.

Nothing really of note from Block Party. They fight, the Micro Puffs make a third and possibly final appearance, and they have a Cell Phone! #31 shows the Mayor at his ABSOLUTE WORST! Not even the Reboot has the Mayor this bad. To be fair, it's thanks to Micro Mayor. #50 shows you just how much Mojo works with the girls. #55 shows you how to make lemonade. So overall thoughts on the DC stuff. They gave the villains a big boost when it comes to Vs Viability. And still, if you like the girls you got more stuff. Shame there are missing issues though. If anyone has them send them my way.

Best Feat I found... 

For me, that’s Buttercup punching Fuzzy so hard he is sent flying around the planet. That’s a crazy feat for strength and Durability. 

Next Time...

We continue the comics and see if IDW can keep this streak going.

#Powerpuff Research

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony’s Stupid Daily Blog (95): Thu 16th Jun 2022

Today was my day off and I had a surfing lesson scheduled for 6:30 tonight I wish I'd booked it for earlier because it meant that I had to spend the rest of the day killing time waiting for it. I'm still utterly gob smacked that this place offers a two hour lesson for only £20. I went for drum lessons earlier this year and the guy there was charging £25 just for one god damn hour and that was mostly spent watching him playing the drums and using terminology I'd never heard before. At the start of the year my plan was to start doing all the cool things I've wanted to do for years simultaneously. However I quickly realized that learning to play the drums, ride a motorbike, fly a private plane, surf and scuba dive would be incredibly expensive so instead I've decided to spend the whole summer learning how to surf and then when September arrives I'll move on one of the other things. It was a nice day and I had quite a bit of time to kill so I went down to the seafront to find a good parking spot for my bike and to sit on the beach enjoying the sunshine. By the time I got there I still had three hours to kill before the lesson. I popped into Minchella's for the first time since I left there back in December for an ice cream and to say hello to my former co-workers. It was so hot in the cafe because of the sun and the fact that I was wearing my full motorcycle gear that I couldn't stay in there for long. After this I walked along the beach a bit and then popped into the arcade to play the dropping the plastic balls in the little holes game. I won a bunch of tickets and gave them to a woman passing by outside to buy her kid some toys. I used to do this pretty much every night after I'd finish my shift at the cafe because the bus would never be on time and I'd need to kill some time somehow. Man it sickens me to think of how much money I must have wasted on stupid game where all you get in return is tickets that you can exchange for cheap plush toys made in Middle Eastern sweatshops. As I was walking towards the town centre to have a look in the shops I got a call for a number I didn't recognize. Whenever this happens I just let it go to voicemail because if it's important they will leave a message but this call went on for a good minute and a half. I decided that if this cold caller was this persistent then the least I could do was answer the phone and tell him to fuck off. However It was not a cold caller, it was the surf club. I assumed they were calling to confirm that I had a lesson booked but to my huge annoyance they told me that the wind had died down meaning there weren't any decent waves so they were going to have to postpone my lesson. I was livid but what how could I really complain to this guy. Whenever a representative of a company tells me there's something gone wrong with an order or an agreement we had and then says that there's nothing they can do part of me always feels like there might actually be something they can do but they can't be bothered. This scenario is pretty hard to put blame on the company though. Unless this guy had Superman powers and was able to push the moon a little bit closer to the Earth in order to create bigger waves then there legitimately wasn't anything they could do. They said that they'd push back the lesson to this time next week. I told him that I had another day off booked for tomorrow and if it was possible to do it then instead since I was excited about the lesson and didn't want to leave it an entire week. The guy said that this wasn't possible and it had to be exactly a week from now which is really odd but I didn't feel like getting into a back and forth so I let it go and now the lesson is scheduled for next Thursday. I've really wanted to learn how to surf for ten years now because I've always thought it looked really enjoyable, peaceful and therapeutic but the thing that I'd overlooked in the fact is that it's also a very conditional activity. It's not like meditation where you can do it whenever and wherever you want, there actually have to be waves. I remembered seeing on an ad for a cruise ship that there are wave machines that you can put in a small pool to use to practice for surfing. I looked up how much these would be and the asking price is usually between $450,000 - $500,000 so they're just a little bit out of my price range. I could probably afford one if I just never bought anything for the next fifty years but by then I'll be in no condition to surf and will spend most of my days having my nappy changed and being spoon fed mushy peas.

[mylifemydiary]

37 weeks tomorrow

6/15/22

I could not have predicted how swimming lessons would go.  I took my son that first day, and I was so excited.  There were 8 kids, 6 little girls and my son and another boy.  The other boy was crying from the beginning.  He wanted to go home and cried for his mom the. entire. time.  They sat my son right next to him, and I was worried it would rub off.  But no, that’s not what happened.  My toddler got dipped into the water and then sat on the ledge with the other kids and got cold, and it was all over.  He did not want to get back in the water.  He screamed and cried.  Even the cry baby got over it and did what he was supposed to.  Not one of the little girls complained, despite physically shivering.  We gave up 20 minutes into the 30 minute lesson, and to my son’s defense, his skin was ice cold when I finally wrapped him up in a blanket.  I guess 9 am is not a good time for swimming.  The following day I had a doctor’s appointment so he had to miss it, and the next day I just gave up and didn’t even take him.  The fourth and final day of the first week my husband and I both took him, and my husband even sat with him on the ledge with the other kids, but it was a big nope about 5 minutes in.  He was cold and wasn’t having it.  

I worked that night from 5-8, and when I got home I felt like all of my muscles ached.  It felt like I had worked out super hard and all of my muscles were fatigued and achey.  I went to sleep, or tried to, and in the morning woke up to my heart racing as if I was on a treadmill walking on an incline.  I had a slight temp, 99.7, and I pulled out the doppler just to make sure my baby had a heart beat.  He did.  My blood pressure was a little high, but what was most concerning was my heart rate bpm which was 155 and I was literally laying in bed.  Everything hurt, my arms, shoulders, neck, thighs, hips.  I called the after hours nurse and she suggested I go to the hospital.  So we dropped my toddler off and to the hospital we went.  We spent 6 hours there, they tested me for every upper raspatory thing I could have possibly had. Everything came back negative.  Except for a UTI.  I had blood and bacteria in my urine.  So they treated me with some antibiotics through my IV, which took the nurse one shot and she was in, more on that later, and sent me home.  I was still achey and miserable and could barely lift my arms over my shoulders.  My husband had to help me in and out of the car, I could barely walk, and I needed help getting dressed.  I was useless in my own body and I hated it.  I had no appetite, I was trying to drink water but other than that I didn’t want to eat.  I stayed in bed for two days practically.  I went to see the specialist on Monday morning for a pre-planned appointment and they were no help.  It was a new doctor who I had never met, and her suggestion was to stop taking the Tylenol that was keeping me sane, to get a fever so the ER would do something about me.  I even had them do another urine test and they forgot to give me the results.  I thought I had an ear infection and asked them to check, but nobody did.  I kept taking the Tylenol and tried to rest.  Tuesday morning I called my doctor’s office and the nurse advised me to go to the ER.  She said if I was in that much pain just to go.  So I did.  They did a sono for kidney stones, thinking maybe that was the source of my pain.  But no.  It was still a UTI.  They gave me a drink and some Tylenol in my IV and sent me home again.  Oh and it took 3 nurses, 2 blown veins, and 5 sticks total to get an IV started this time.  It was awful.  I cried so many times over the course of those 5 days, because I was weak and helpless and in so much pain and nobody could help me.  Finally, Wednesday I started to feel better and the pain started to ease.  I went to the specialist on Monday and saw that same useless doctor, and they made zero mention to the fact that my blood pressure is high now, I’m super swollen, and gained 8 pounds in one week of no doubt water weight.  I’ve been tracking my BP for about a week now and I’m going to ask my doctor about inducing tomorrow.  I was hoping the full moon last night would start some contractions, but nothing.  

[snapehateaccount]

Do I consider the Glee concert movie as canon? Yes.

Do I just say this so I have an excuse to rewatch it for the article I’m writing? Maybe.

#glee concert movie my beloved #my dad got me it on DVD for my birthday because he wanted an excuse to watch it #glee #I spent the whole time complaining that Chris didn’t have enough solos #Kurt Hummel my beloved #chris colfer is god #and then the warblers has their section and I showed off my unnecessary knowledge of all of their names #and the spent the entire rest of it complaining about the fact Wes wasn’t there (which stressed me out more than it should’ve) #this is a Wesley Montgomery stan account #wes warbler my beloved #he’s the side character I picked for the next couple of months to care about too much

[noteguk]

bad behavior | jjk | m

This is in the same universe as “bad influence.” It can, however, be read as a stand-alone. 

— summary; in which staying late to volunteer at a self-help meeting was the best decision you made in a while. 

— contents and warnings; smut, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, public sex (in a church…), dirty talk, fingering, degradation (name calling) but also praise, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, cum play, there is a window and also reflections, rough sex, cockwarming, jk being a lil shit because that’s his main personality trait, jk smokes (only mentioned), enemies to fuckbuddies: dawn of the first day 

— words; 8.2k

— author’s note; for the anon that asked how their first time was like ;) join me as we explore the lore of this godforsaken couple 

It was your mother’s idea for you to find a new place to volunteer. According to her, it had been a long time since you experienced “the invigorating energy of community work” — last time was when you were trying to level up your college application — and it could really “soothe your anxious soul” during the trying times of college finals. Apparently one tutoring program and two research projects weren’t enough to distract you, but you could see where she was coming from. 

In the end, you accepted. The old places you used to volunteer in had either shut off their programs or were just too far away from college for you to consider. At first, you decided to follow your mother’s suggestion and tried to work with children — “small miracles”, as she called them — in a local daycare. Which ended up being a terrible idea. 

You liked giving back to the community, you really did, but it wasn’t long until you realized that working with infants hasn’t been your wisest decision, and that children weren’t miracles at all. You got tired of going home covered in paint and with pieces of playdough entangled in your hair, and that was when you weren’t unlucky enough to get hit with other, less clean fluids. 

So you eventually gave up — both on the daycare and on the faint idea of one day going into pediatrics — and searched for a new place. After having to yell your way through retirement homes, and getting fed up with washing people’s sidewalks, you finally settled in a program that was flexible and light enough for your intense college hours: preparing (and then later cleaning up) a room that was reserved in a local church for weekly meetings. 

The entire ordeal took about two to three hours off your day, and more than half of it was spent as free time: waiting for the meeting to end, cramming piles of information in a small room next door. You didn’t really know what the meetings were about since they changed practically every month — they were, at first, a support group for teenage mothers, then it became an AA meeting, then a group for drug users trying to quit. Lately, you were starting to think that the church just gave away the room for whoever had the money to rent it, so it wasn’t a surprise when it was reserved for a motivational speaker to give confidence lessons. 

You had researched the guy, some old dude with an unpronounceable name and a sketchy background, and found exactly the type of person you had expected. Yes, you were in the house of Christ, but you were still being heavily judgmental of the fact that he was giving those talks when he had no qualifications whatsoever, and was probably making bank off all the self-help books he regurgitated at least twice a year to prey on vulnerable people. You did share your worries with the administrative office of the church, but they ultimately fell on deaf ears, and you gave up on the idea of kicking his ass out of the holy grounds anytime soon. 

It was after one of those pseudo-motivational talks that you walked into the empty room, ready to clean everything up before rushing back to your place, where your roommate had promised to greet you with some wonderful takeout. The chairs were still placed in a circle on the center of the room, where they had been since forever, and you made sure to align them perfectly before you moved on to the litter that had been thrown around the place. 

One good thing about those self-help meetings was that they were a lot cleaner than a lot of other attendees, so the “picking up the trash until your back started to hurt” part passed by surprisingly fast. You had just moved on to the snack table, analyzing what you could still save, when your soul almost left your body. 

“Hey, you,” you heard a known voice behind you. “What are you doing in here?”

You swiftly turned around, heart thumping violently against your ribcage. You didn’t know how you hadn’t let out the biggest, most blood-curdling scream ever, but that was just the first of many miracles of the night. “Jesus Christ,” you wheezed out, taking one hand to your chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like this.” You swallowed dry, some part of your brain recalling that he had asked you a question. “And I’m volunteering here.” 

“I didn’t sneak up on you, you’re just jumpy.” Jungkook scoffed, leaning against the doorframe with that stupid playful smirk curling up on his lips. You didn’t know they allowed demons inside the church. “And of course you are.” He rolled his eyes. 

Maybe a few months back, his mocking tone would’ve stung a bit more. However, you had been tutoring Jungkook for about three months then, suffering through endless sessions of his whining and complaining, and you’ve grown used to his passive-aggressive antics already. You learned that Jungkook was a shark seeking for blood, waiting for any crack that would allow him to jump into a perverse little joke — about how you behaved, your priorities, or even the color of your highlighter. You, of course, always stood your ground and threw his comments right back at him — which was his initial plan, as you’ve come to realize. Jungkook enjoyed playfully arguing with you, and you thought that it was another level of strangeness and masochism you simply didn’t have time to dissect. 

Still, Jungkook (shockingly) wasn’t the terrible person you once thought he was. Every once in a while — when he was trying to talk you out of teaching him — the conversations you two would have were actually mostly pleasant, and he wasn’t awful to hang around when he dropped the whole badass persona to act like a real human being. You would even dare to say that Jungkook could be actually funny at times, and not in the bitter, sarcastic way he usually was. Sometimes, you dared to think, he could actually be reasonably nice. And also kind of cute. Even hot. 

But you would never actually admit any of that out loud. Or even to yourself, really. 

“And you?” You asked, turning back around to face the table full of half-eaten food. That looked like a battlefield, and you could already tell that there were only a few survivors left standing. “What are you doing here? Repenting?” 

Jungkook chuckled dryly. “You wish. My parents want me to quit smoking,” he said. You could not see him, but you could hear him walking closer to you as you fumbled with the large Tupperware. “We settled on this crap instead of a forced intervention.” 

You scoffed. Most of the food before you was unsalvageable — some of the cupcakes had been bitten once and then placed back, and you wondered how someone like that could function in society. “You don’t seem very motivated to quit,” you mumbled. 

Jungkook clicked his tongue. “I don’t really care.” 

His voice was much closer to you, and you felt the air leaving your lungs for a pitiful instant. You convinced yourself you had only gotten scared again. “You should care about the growing possibility of lung cancer.” 

He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really on the top of my list of priorities at the moment.” 

“And what is?” You asked. 

“Amongst other things…” he trailed off and, suddenly, he was standing besides you, pointing at the chaotic pile of sweets. “I actually came back to grab another one of those cupcakes. The chocolate ones are great.” 

You didn’t know why, but his comment broke the odd tension that you didn’t even know that was there, clicking you back into your previous mentality — the one that you just wanted to finish cleaning up so you could leave soon. “All yours,” you told him, “grab as many as you want.” 

Jungkook hummed in satisfaction, reaching out to grab one special brown cupcake — an untouched one, thankfully. “I love when you talk dirty.” He almost moaned before shoving the cupcake inside his mouth, taking a huge bite off it. Dramatically, Jungkook rolled his eyes and sighed in delight. “These are fucking great.” 

You chuckled, glancing at his direction. Jungkook was dressed in all black, like he usually was, and you were starting to recognize a newfound admiration towards his constant use of leather jackets. What? He looked good. “I’m glad the self-help sessions are paying off,” you commented, swiftly placing the cupcakes inside the transparent container. 

Jungkook was paying attention to your actions now, like he noticed you were there working for the first time. “What are you doing with the rest?”

“The church will probably donate it, give it to the homeless or something.” You shrugged. “Or they’ll eat it, I don’t know. I just clean up the place and leave.” 

Jungkook laughed at that, taking another monstrous bite from his cupcake and throwing himself on one of the nearby chairs. Your eye twitched a little at the thought that he had ruined your perfect circle, but you’d have to fix that on your way out. “Sounds absurdly boring,” he sang. “And they’re not even paying you.” 

You sighed. “After all the places I’ve volunteered in, boring is a blessing,” you told him. You had just placed five hot dogs in the container, and you were starting to wonder if it would be a good idea to feed people in need with those suspicious sausages. “But, yeah, you probably don’t care about any of that.” 

“You don’t know what I care about,” Jungkook said matter-of-factly. You didn’t know if he was trying to tease you, but his voice came out so soft and monotone that you couldn’t really be mad about it. It was true, after all: you didn’t actually know what he cared about. Sometimes you thought that he could read you better than you could read him. “Want me to stay here with you? This place is probably empty already.”

You could not hold back your laugh at that, turning around so you could look at him. “Are you offering to be my bodyguard? In a church?” 

Jungkook pouted. There was a thin line of chocolate on the side of his lips, which he quickly licked clean. “I’m trying to be nice.”

You giggled, turning back towards the disgusting food. The rest was mostly trash, but you were happy enough with the amount you had managed to find in a good state. “That’s new.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. “I’m always nice.”

“Always is a strong word.” You smiled, closing the lid of the Tupperware. You had managed to fill three small containers with the leftovers and, honestly, that was a big victory. “But you can stay or you can leave, I don’t mind. I’m almost done anyways.” 

He frowned. “Is that your answer?” 

You turned around. “What? You want me to beg for your company?” You smiled. “You’re mistaken if you think I’d ever do that.”

“I’m staying.” Jungkook crumpled up the piece of cupcake wrapping and threw it in the trash can besides your body. He watched you for a moment as you started to throw the leftovers away, your back turned to him and a distracted look on your face. When he broke the silence again, you were throwing the last piece of bread in the bin. “Why are you volunteering?” 

“Because I like giving back to the community.” 

Jungkook sneered at your words. “Seriously now. Don’t lie, we’re in a church.” 

“I do, actually,” you stood your ground. There was a vague sound of crickets coming from the half-open window and the low buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you, but, other than that, the city was covered in absolute silence. Perhaps that was why you felt so at peace. “But my mom told me it would be a good thing to keep myself relaxed. You know, take my mind off college stuff.” 

He hummed, and you heard him getting up from the chair. “You always do what your mom tells you?” 

You met his gaze. “Didn’t your parents make you come here?”

He smiled. “Not the point.” 

Before you could hold yourself back, your lips were curling up. Again: Jungkook wasn’t absolutely awful to be around when he actually acted like a human being. “When she says something I agree with, yes,” you told him. “My ego isn’t bruised when it comes to following someone’s idea.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying that mine is?”

“I didn’t say that.” You smirked and turned back to the table. You started piling up the used plastic cups, already eyeing all the used plates, forks and knives that you’d have to throw away. The daycare had better eating manners than that. “Thought we were talking about me.” 

“We were,” Jungkook agreed. One of his inked hands moved to the table, and you were about to tell him that he could eat more of the cupcakes when you realized that he had started to reach for the discardable plates, throwing them away. You really didn’t think he’d help you. “Finals are coming up, though, and you care about that shit. Shouldn’t you be using this time to study or something?”

“I study while you’re out here listening to becoming your real self or, I don’t know... waking up the giant within,” you said. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” 

He hummed, his nose cringing up at the disgusting remains of food that stuck to the plastic forks. Jungkook seriously didn’t know how you could do that for fun. “You know there are better ways to relax than cleaning up a dusty room, right?” 

“Probably,” you agreed. The cups were already in the trash, alongside with the plates, and there were only a few crumpled up napkins to get rid of before you tasted the sweet nectar of freedom. “But here I am. That’s what I chose for myself.” 

“Literally any other option would’ve been better,” Jungkook pressed on. “Isn’t that obnoxious friend of yours in cheer or something?” 

“Who? Jisoo?” You smiled at him. No one had ever called her obnoxious, but you couldn’t say that the title didn’t fit. Jisoo could be really… intense when it came to standing up for what she believed in. “She is. She invited me to join her already, if that’s what you’re gonna ask, but it’s not really my thing.” 

“It’s a shame,” he mumbled, leaning against the table. It was a beautiful miracle how clean that room had become just by getting rid of the piles of gross food, and you had proudly thrown the last piece of paper inside the trash bin when Jungkook spoke up again. “You’d look really hot in that outfit.” 

You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to digest the claim he had so mindlessly thrown your way. Just like all-things-Jungkook, a pleasant conversation could not last long, so you weren’t even surprised that he managed to ruin that talk with such a fuckboy-esque comment. 

Also like all-things-Jungkook, he managed to awaken a reaction out of you that you didn’t even know could be there. With a faint heat in your cheeks and a frown blossoming amongst your features, you actually felt a little bit of... satisfaction with the fact that he thought that you’d look hot in that skimpy outfit. At the same time, you wanted to slap yourself for falling into his charms so easily. 

In that conflicting turmoil of emotions, all you could say was a monotone, “You cannot be serious right now.”

Even if you kind of wanted him to be serious. 

“I’m being dead serious,” Jungkook didn’t back down, much to the elation of your ego. You felt like a schoolgirl being recognized by her crush, and the idea alone made your stomach curl onto itself. What the hell were you even thinking about? Yeah, Jungkook was pretty hot, but he was also kind of a douche and you didn’t want to get involved with that mess of a person. Or at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I mean…” he continued, “you’re even rocking this knee-level dress right now, can’t even imagine how you’d look if—“ 

“You can shut up now, Jungkook, thanks,” you interrupted him. Because you didn’t know how to act when he was so blatantly flirting with you, you switched back to the same passive-aggressive behavior that you had given him for the past three months. Call it self-preservation, call it panic, but your mind simply didn’t know where to go from there. “And I’m also done here, so you can skidaddle back to whatever swamp you came out of.” 

“Awn, don’t be mean, princess.” He pouted. Jungkook was a master at getting you worked up, and you had just given that to him on a silver platter. Maybe if you had mock-flirted back, he would’ve baked away. You would never know. “I was just fucking with you, you’re too easy to tease.” 

You pressed your lips together, hip touching the corner of the now empty table. “You were pretty much harassing me,” you said playfully. 

“I was not.” Jungkook smirked, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his pants. When had the two of you gotten so close? There was barely any space between your chests. “But it’s okay, I’m not gonna compliment you anymore, don’t worry. You don’t have to be so defensive.” 

“I’m not being defensive,” you said, defensive. 

“What, is it the church setting?” He raised his eyebrows, taking a look around. “Is it making you uncomfortable?” 

“No,” you answered, crossing your arms before your chest. Jungkook followed the movement and his gaze got stuck on the shape of your breasts for a second too long, making a newfound wave of heat rise up to your cheeks. “Not as much as you’re trying to make me uncomfortable right now.” 

He chuckled. “You do look cute when you’re shy,” Jungkook teased, taking a step towards you, and you took another one back, pretending you were just going to lean against the table. You sat on it in a weird diagonal position, with one leg still on the ground and the other dangling over the edge. Jungkook was so close that, when he spoke again, voice just above a whisper, you could feel his breath on your skin. “If you don’t want me here, just ask me to go and I’ll go.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The atmosphere was filled with electricity, your body drowning in the warmth of his presence, the sharp seriousness in his dark eyes, and you could not bring yourself to say anything. Did you want him to leave? 

No, you realized in a rush of adrenaline, you didn’t want him to leave at all. 

Jungkook raised one of his eyebrows. “Hm? Nothing?” He smirked, placing himself between your legs. Every nerve of your body was screaming for you to touch him, to just wrap his mouth with yours, and you simply could not respond to any of its commands. “You’re full of surprises.” 

You found your voice at that comment, heart hammering against your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” Jungkook placed one strand of your hair behind your ear, his gaze flickering down to your chest. From where he stood, he could see the beautiful mounds of your breasts peeking under the fabric, licking his lips at the sight. “Can I at least say that I like your dress?” 

Jungkook’s palm slithered up your knee before you could even react, moving towards your inner thigh and raising your dress along with it. His touch was electrifying, and you found yourself craving more of it, a sigh caught on your throat at the tenderness of his hot skin. 

“Something tells me that your compliment isn’t so innocent,” you told him, leaning your head back slightly so you could hold his gaze. “Aren’t you gonna complete that and say that I would look better without it?”

Jungkook chuckled. “The idea is compelling, I’ll admit it,” he said, rubbing soft circles on your skin. His other hand slithered around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “But don’t need to take it off to fuck you.” 

Your eyes grew wide at that, brain short-circuiting. You frankly couldn’t believe that was happening — the fact that Jungkook was so shamelessly trying (and honestly succeeding) to initiate sex with you. In a fucking church too, of all places. “What- what did you say?”

“You heard what I said.” His stare didn’t falter. Jungkook was looking at you like he could eat you whole, and you seriously wouldn’t mind if he tried to. You'd deal with the social and psychological implications of that another time. “Just tell me to stop and I’ll do it, princess. No hard feelings, promise.” 

This time, you spoke out and the firmness and certainty in your voice surprised even yourself. “I don’t want you to stop.” 

“No?” His voice sounded like honey, so deep and melodic even through the thick layers of his sarcasm. You had never heard him get so serious, so focused, and the thought that it was all for you was igniting a fire inside your guts. “You wanna get fucked in a church?” 

You bit your lip, blinking up at him. The point was: you wanted Jungkook, of all people, to fuck you. The fact that it was in a church was just the cherry on top, and you didn’t care about it as much as you should — your mom would be weeping blood if she knew what was going on, but you weren’t planning on telling anything to anybody. “And what if I do?” You asked back teasingly. 

Jungkook smiled, knocking the breath right out of you. You could only hope that you didn’t look as horny as you felt, because your pride was still on the line. “Told you that you were full of surprises.” He pushed one of your legs open, making you lose your support on the floor. Now, both of your feet were dangling off the edge, body trapped between his strong arms and thighs on either side of him. “Are you a virgin, baby?”

You shook your head, and your voice reached you a bit later. “No.”

“Naughty,” Jungkook said, leaning in. He stared at you like a lion stalking its prey, his gaze lingering on your parted lips before, at last, he tilted his head to the side, deciding to move towards your neck instead. “But if you have the taste I think you do, you probably had some lame missionary sex with some goodie-two shoes.” 

When he started kissing your neck, you almost forgot to give him a response. You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan, instead producing a low, shaky sigh. “And if I did? What’s the problem with some lame missionary sex?” 

“No need to get mad, I’m on your side here,” Jungkook said, one of his hands navigating up your waist, between the valley of your breasts, before grabbing your boob. That time, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped you. “Did he make you cum?” 

“Sometimes,” you said, slightly flustered. You didn’t think you’d be discussing your sexual history with Jungkook, but, well, there you were. “He was alright.” 

“Only sometimes?” Jungkook chuckled, the vibrations of his deep timbre vibrating through the sensitive skin of your neck, his thumb grazing your nipple. The heat between your legs only grew, your entire body practically begging to feel more of him. “That’s a shame, I could do better.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start getting cocky.”

“I never stopped being cocky,” he responded without hesitation. Well, he was right. “And I do have a good track record.” 

“Doubt it,” you said, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips. You knew that you were playing a dangerous game, pressing right at the weak spots of his inflated ego to see how he would react. Perhaps you’d be luckier trying to poke a bear with a short stick. “You wouldn’t know the difference between a real and fake orgasm even if it hit you in the face.” 

Jungkook leaned back and looked at you for an instant. You knew he had caught onto your challenge straight away. He liked it as much as you did, there was no doubt about that. “Let’s see, shall we?” he asked. There was no denying the devilish aura that was all around him now, suffocating you with its tempting heat. “How long do we have?”

“I’m locking up the room tonight,” you said, watching as his eyes sparked with an emotion you could not decipher. “But I wanna get home before ten. Have homework.” 

You could see him fighting against the natural urge to ridicule you for saying something like that at such an odd time, but, at the end, he managed to avoid it. “More than enough time.” Jungkook placed one hand on the back of your neck, gaze darting hungrily toward your lips. “Come here.”

And then his mouth was on yours, and everything else was white noise. Jungkook kissed you much slower than you had anticipated, taking his sweet time caressing your mouth with his; hands exploring the curves of your body and teasing their way underneath your dress. He sighed heavily against your mouth when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, his soft tongue poking out and entering your mouth perfectly. Jungkook was a good kisser, you had to admit it, and he got your knees weak sooner than you’d like. 

His body was hot and firm against yours and you could feel the outline of his abs underneath your fingers as you trailed your hands down his torso; his quick heartbeat drumming on your palms. Jungkook’s breathing got heavier as you hooked your fingers on the hem of his pants and tugged him toward you. Instantly you noticed the outline of his hard cock against your inner thigh. 

Then, something switched. Just as you had reached out to touch his hardness, squeezing it lightly underneath your fingers, Jungkook groaned against your mouth and bit down on your lip. You had barely any time to react before he was pulling away from the kiss, gaze darkening. 

“Such a tease,” he mumbled hoarsely, his breath hitting your mouth in soft waves. His hand was hovering over your heat, his middle finger pressing down on your sensitive nub, making you whimper. “You don’t know what you do to me.” 

Jungkook was much quicker than your thoughts and, within a second, the motion of your panties being pushed aside made you fumble closer to him; your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders when he finally decided to touch you. 

“Fuck,” he groaned next to your ear, making your mind go blank for a split second. The teasing motions of his digits brushing your entrance were enough to make you whimper, hips thrusting forward in a failed attempt to make him move further. “Look at this, you’re soaking my fingers. Wanna get fucked that bad?”

But he didn’t let you respond. The sudden intrusion of two fingers inside your pussy made your back arch, nails digging in the leather of his jacket as Jungkook opened you up. “I—” you tried to speak, but it was hard to think when he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. The sounds of your wetness were a filthy symphony filling the quiet atmosphere. “Jungkook, what—” 

“God, that’s so tight,” he groaned, speaking through clenched teeth. His voice was enough to shut you up at the spot, a frail moan dripping from your lips. “Relax, baby, you’re too tense. Let me take care of you, alright?” 

You nodded, eyes drifting shut as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. You hated to admit it, but Jungkook was already winning against your ex by a long shot: the way his digits brushed inside you, gradually moving apart to stretch you, got you searching — begging — for more. You were sure you could cum around his fingers and, when he curled them up and they dragged against your sweet spot, the idea became a lot more palpable. 

“Jungkook, you’re taking too long, I’m gonna cum like this,” you complained, chest rising and falling under the waves of your upcoming orgasm. You could feel it building up in your stomach, ready to snap, and you didn’t want it to happen around his fingers. “I wanna feel you.” 

Jungkook breathed out at your needy request, placing a kiss against your jaw. “I’m just getting you ready for my cock, baby,” he said. A loud moan dripped from you when he unceremoniously added a third finger, your legs trembling on either side of his body. “I don’t know if you can take it.”

You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, only half aware of the fact that your voice sounded more like a whimper than a serious comment. “I can.” 

He smirked wickedly. You really were pushing his buttons. “We’ll see about that,” Jungkook responded. 

Within a second, right as your orgasm was about to wash over you, he removed his fingers from your pussy. The frustrated moan you let out was quickly swollen by him, his mouth rogue against yours and the sweetness of his tongue intoxicating you — probably those stupid cupcakes, you thought. 

“Turn around for me,” he asked. 

You quickly did as he requested, putting your feet on the ground before turning your back to him, hands leaning on the table. Jungkook placed one hand on the curve of your spine, pushing you down until you had your chest against the surface, ass perked up and pussy in full display for him. There was a gush of cold air against your flesh when he pulled up the fabric of your dress and tossed it over your waist, exposing your lower body for him.

The boy hummed at the sight, one of his legs kicking your feet apart so he could position himself in the middle of your thighs. “You’re pretty all around,” Jungkook commented, one of his palms grazing your asscheek before grabbing it. His motion was harsh, needy; earning a whimper from you. “Knew you would be.” 

Through the dense clouds of your desire, there was still some part of you that managed to make fun of that situation. “You spend your free time thinking about my ass?”

“Won’t answer until I have a lawyer present,” he joked. 

You felt his fingers hooking around the fabric of your panties, pushing it further to the side so you had your cunt fully exposed for him to see. The drumming of your heartbeat almost drowned out the low groan he produced at the sight of your flushed heat. 

“Princess, your pussy is dripping so much…” Jungkook trailed off, one of his fingers tracing a line between your lips. He felt the urge to eat you out, to lick you completely clean and make you cum on his tongue, but he decided that would have to wait for a different time. “Is this all for me?” 

“Yeah, all for you,” you said, weak. There was a thundering exasperation building up inside you, motivated from your denied orgasm and from the way that Jungkook was taking his sweet time. 

“Good girl,” he mumbled and your chest was filled with pride. “Can’t wait to fuck it.” 

“Then don’t wait,” you practically begged. “Just rush.”

He removed his finger from your heat. “Shh… be patient,” Jungkook told you and you swore you could practically hear the smile in his voice. You could hear him shuffling behind you, the sound of his zipper opening echoing around that still room. “I’m gonna give you whatever you want.” 

You whined at the abrupt feeling of his warm cock rubbing between your folds, its tip hitting your clit after every languid thrust. “Fuck,” you cried out, shaky. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that he was big, his length was so thick that you were starting to get second thoughts whether you could take it or not. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. “Just put it in, Jungkook.” 

But Jungkook was having way more fun just teasing you. “Pussy’s so wet for me.” He breathed out, his hands tightening around your hips. You felt him throb between your folds, and the sensation got you searching for air. “You’re soaking my cock, baby. You want it that much?”

“Y-Yeah.”  

Jungkook hummed, leaning in so he could place a kiss on your shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, princess,” he promised, his length still rubbing between your folds. He was so hard and heavy that your mind was spinning, your lungs drowning in expectation. “Gonna fuck you so well that you’re never going to forget it. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” your voice was a pathetic moan, and you hated your body for betraying you so easily. “Yes, please.” 

After another pec on your shoulder, Jungkook leaned back. “Be loud for me, alright?” He asked. “Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed hard — what were the chances that someone would hear you? You had no idea. “Yeah, whatever you want, just fuck me.”

“Whatever I want? That’s a dangerous thing to say.” He moved around behind you, making you flinch when you felt his cock align with your dripping entrance. The anticipation was driving you insane. “Might have to see if you’re up for it another time.” 

There was an answer somewhere in your mind — you could swear there was — but it was quickly forgotten the second that Jungkook pushed himself inside you. The drag of his cock was a delicious torture, streching you out and filling you up to the brim until you were shaking under his touch, both of you moaning at the sensation. 

“Oh my god.” You breathed out, hands turning into fists on the table. Your cheek was pressed against the polished wood, hot breath creating small white clouds on the surface. 

Jungkook released a shaky sigh when he felt you clenching around him, your body desperately trying to move closer to him. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his hands holding onto your hips for dear life. Gradually, he moved himself away from your pussy just so he could slam back inside, marveling on the way you trembled at the feeling, crying out his name in the prettiest of whimpers. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Squeezing my cock so well.” 

Took you only an instant to realize that you were absolutely addicted to the feeling of his cock inside you, the heavenly push of his hardness in and out of you as he slowly started to set a pace. “Oh my god, I’m—” a pitiful hiccup interrupted you, turning your voice into a sharp cry. “That’s so good, Jungkook.”

Jungkook chuckled behind you, his thrusts starting to pick up speed. Your eyes closed in endless bliss, every part of your brain focused on the sensation of his fat length stretching you up. “Told you I’d be, not my fault you didn’t believe me,” he said, but you could tell that his confidence had started to wear itself thin — he, too, seemed to be much more focused on the way that your bodies met. “Do you touch yourself, princess?”

You almost didn’t know how to answer him, a deep heat rushing up to your cheeks. “W-What?”

“When you’re alone, baby,” he practically hissed. You were bouncing on the table then, your body jerking up and down as he fully pistoned his cock inside your heat. “Do you play with your little pussy?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, embarrassed. “S-Sometimes.” 

“Show me how you do it,” he requested in-between huffs, lust dripping from every syllable. Jungkook spoke to you like a siren, effortlessly inducting you to comply with everything he wanted. “Come on. Don’t be shy, I wanna see you play with yourself for me.” 

You didn’t even know if what you were feeling was shyness, but there was a veil of hesitation that covered your actions. As your hands moved downwards, one of them clenching around the fabric of your dress and pulling it up while the other trailed over your mound, you felt strangely vulnerable, exposed. At the same time, you wanted to do what he asked you to, wanted him to wash you over with compliments until your mind was going blank. 

So you closed your eyes and focused on the sensation of two of your fingers coating themselves in your wetness, then their pressure on your clit. You whined at the feeling, pleasure exploding in your veins as you started to rub yourself, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. There was no way you could ever reach that sensation again, the sweet motions of your fingers combining perfectly with the thrusts of his hard, fat cock inside you. You were doomed. 

“That’s it… just like that, baby,” Jungkook whispered, obsessed with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him. You had gotten so tight that he thought he would see heaven at any second now. “Feels good?” 

“Y-Yeah, so good...” you struggled to get out, “feels amazing, Jungkook.” 

“So perfect for me,” his praise shot straight up to your core, making you mewl under him. God, the way that you were tightening around him was going to drive him insane. “You feel so fucking good, I can’t stop fucking you.” 

Jungkook took one of his hands to your neck, using it to guide your body upwards until you had your back pressed against his chest; his hot lips assaulting your neck. The new position made it so much easier for his cock to drill inside you, reaching even deeper and hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. It wasn’t long before you were moaning out, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you. 

“Just take a look at that, baby,” his voice broke you out of your hypnotized state.  “Look at you. Such a good slut, just taking everything I’m giving you, touching yourself for my cock… fuck. Could watch you like this forever.” 

You had to take a moment to understand what he was talking about, and then you saw it: the window. It stood silently across the room from you, half open, and the glass combined with the darkness of the night gave a perfect reflection of the two of you. You could see yourself, the mess you had become, as Jungkook pounded in and out of you and your fingers worked on your clit; the darkness of his hungry gaze as he followed the motions of your body against his. 

Even if you cried out at the sight, your body freezed up a little at the thought of someone walking by and seeing that private spectacle. The possibility itself was minimal — the window gave way to the side of the land, where a big, thick fence separated it from the nearby houses; most of the ground covered by large trees and bushes — but it wasn’t zero. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the humiliation that would come from being seen like that. 

He, of course, noticed your change of demeanor right away, and you could see in the faint reflection that he had smirked at that realization. “What is it? Are you worried someone is going to walk by?” Jungkook almost groaned against your ear. His cock continued to pump ferociously in and out of you, and you couldn’t even understand your own thoughts for a moment. “That someone is gonna see you get fucked like a good slut?” 

“It’s not—” a moan cut your sentence short. Not like you knew where you were heading, anyways. 

“No one is gonna see you like this, know why?” Jungkook was grunting, his fingers tightening around your throat. You cried out at the feeling, your cunt clenching around him in a way that got him fucking you even harder. “Cause this is all for me. Just for me.” 

Then he was pushing you back on the table, your chest crashing against the wooden surface and his hands yanking you by the waist. Jungkook was fucking you so hard that your worries left you as soon as they arrived, your mind a turmoil of desires and broken exclamations that didn’t give space to anything else but him. 

“You look fucking gorgeous like this, stuffed with cock,” he marveled at the sight. There was a known wave of pleasure hovering over you, ready to crash at any given moment, and you stopped rubbing yourself just so you could prolong its arrival. “Wanna see you cum for me, make a mess for me, baby.” 

The words left you in a confusing, broken order, “Jungkook, I can’t… too much… can’t...” 

“Shhh, you can,” he was slowly easing you into your orgasm, his cock drilling in and out of your pussy. Jungkook fucked like a machine, fast and precise, and you didn’t think you’d be able to forget that anytime soon. “You told me you could take it, so now you’re gonna take it. Don’t you wanna be good for me?” 

“I- I want to… I’m so close,” you cried out, pressing your forehead against the table. You didn’t know how it hadn’t broken yet, with the way that Jungkook was fucking you so mercilessly hard. “I’m so, so close.”

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he urged you on, his member throbbing inside you at the thought. Your legs were so weak that you knew you’d fall facedown on the floor if he wasn’t supporting your weight with his strong arms. “Be a good girl and cream my cock for me.” 

And that was it. That was all that you needed to push yourself over the edge, submerging you in ecstasy and making you squeeze him so deliciously. “J-Jungkook!” You moaned out his name again and again, unsure of how loud you were being, but also not caring as much as you should. Jungkook realized he loved hearing you call his name more than anything else. “Fuck! Oh my god!”

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned back, his thrusts a sloppy, uncoordinated mess. He was hypnotized by the view of your cunt hugging him, your wetness dripping down your thighs as you rode out the last seconds of your orgasm. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect— gonna cum too.” 

You gasped out at the sensitivity that was starting to spread, every movement shaky as you tried to push yourself against him. “Yes, please.” You looked over your shoulder, meeting his hooded gaze. Jungkook looked like a god, his dark hair sweaty and messy and his lip trapped between his teeth. That image would plague you forever. “Cum inside me, please.” 

He groaned loudly, eyes closing for a second. “Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” he hissed, chest heaving with anticipation. You knew he was close, everything pointed to that, and all that you wanted was to see him reach his high, using your body like it was just a doll for him to fuck. “Didn’t know you’d want to be filled up with cum, princess.” 

“I’m full of surprises.” You smiled — a pretty, fucked-out smile that got Jungkook grunting like a madman. “I want your cum inside me, Jungkook, please.” 

“Gonna fuck you full of my cum, don’t worry— Shit.” The sounds he was making were heavily: those breathy, high-pitched moans that echoed all around you; broken by deep grunts that had your thighs shaking. Jungkook fucked himself in you like he was meant for it, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he finally found his orgasm. “Fuck! That’s it, fuck—”

Jungkook called out your name and mixed it with praises and curses when he came, spilling himself inside your pussy. You sighed at the feeling, taking in the blissful sensation of having his hot cum spilling out of you, dripping down your legs as he continued to thrust inside you, milking out his orgasm. 

At last, he started to wince from sensitivity. His body collided against your back, his heavy breathing fanning your neck as he tried to collect himself. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, “you’re amazing.” 

“You’re not so terrible yourself.” You could not help the smile that appeared on your lips, nor the way that you melted against the surface of the table, drowning in his heat. 

Still, you couldn’t stay there for much longer: it was already a miracle that no one heard the chaos going on in that room, and you weren’t trying to push your luck for the night. Especially since you had a pile of homework (and possibly — now cold — takeout) waiting for you at home. 

You raised your body, leaning against your elbows. “I have to leave,” you told him, taking one of your hands to lay on top of his tattooed one, trying to ease his grip from your waist. “Now if you could just…” 

“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook hushed, unrelenting. He was much stronger than you, and your muscles were too weak for you to try and do much, so you eventually gave up. “Stop moving. Let me feel you around me for just a bit more.” 

You frowned. “Why?”

“I like it,” he said simply. His breath was a faint caress against the skin of your neck, and you didn’t have much fight left in you. “We all have our tastes.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so weird.”

“Don’t kinkshame.” Jungkook pouted, then pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “You just begged me to fuck you in a church, remember?” 

“Yeah, I guess I don’t have much place to judge.” You laughed dryly, then looked over your shoulder. “Why is your cock still hard? How long is this gonna take?” 

Jungkook groaned, clearly annoyed. “Shut up and enjoy the moment.” 

~ 

The so-called moment lasted about two more minutes (which was kind of impressive, you thought) before Jungkook softened and slipped out of you. You hated to admit but you kind of liked the feeling of having him still inside you, completing you as his lips danced around your neck; fingers tenderly playing with your hair. You never thought Jungkook would be so gentle after fucking you like that, but you guessed that you weren’t the only one that was full of surprises. 

Jungkook, apparently, also liked to admire his work. After he had slipped out of you, he made you sit back on the table just so he could stare at his own cum dripping out of you, a glimmer of satisfaction in his dark gaze. He had pushed his white release back inside you and smirked up at you, asking, ever so kindly, for you to go home like that, filled with his cum. 

You, of course, promptly accepted it. 

“By the way,” he called when you two had already stepped out of the church, enveloped by the coldness of the night. There was only one solitary light pole illuminating his features, making him look like one of the saints in the chapel — nothing but fake advertisement, in your opinion. “Wanna know how much I got in that immunology test?”

“How much?” You asked. 

“Eighty two.” Jungkook smiled brightly then, and you found yourself joining him. “Never saw a grade so high in my life. And that counts all the times I’ve cheated too.” 

“Seems like the tutoring sessions are paying off.” You crossed your arms before your chest, the hem of your dress swirling around your knees. The night was weirdly peaceful after everything that had taken place. 

“They are.” He nodded. “I’m looking forward to the next one. Helps that my tutor is kind of a hottie too.”

You scoffed. “So I’ve heard.”  

“And, by the way?” 

“Yeah?”

“You would look better without it.” He pointed at your dress, a sly smile already sprouting on his lips. “Hope to see it next time.”

“Good night, Jungkook.” You rolled your eyes, already turning around — yeah, like there would ever be a next time. 

~ 

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