#but he tends to just go full steam ahead for what he wants and if he doesnt have the personal motivation for it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sopejinsunflower · 1 year

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a/n: Ironically, I got this idea while listening to Fukaimori by Do As Infinity. Please read the translated lyrics if you’re interested. Also, I started this as a drabble actually. I don’t know why I always write angst :’)

Summary: Kim Seokjin wants to chase his dream of exploring space. It’s all he ever wanted. And you only ever wanted him but you will not stand in between him and his passion. But there is a secret that you kept, too afraid it might hold him back.

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x you

Tags: Sci-Fi AU! Astronaut Jin! Childhood lovers AU! angst, drama, heartbreak, read only if you want to feel sad. Bittersweet ending.

Word count: 7k

“It’s so wide it’s kind of scary, isn’t it?”

“I think it’s beautiful.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and one day I’m going to be among those pretty lights.”

“You are a pretty light.”

– – –

Jin’s eyes blink open and it takes him a while to find his bearings, remaining on his bed a little longer, staring up at the ceiling. He can hear his work partner moving around in the next room before he hears the man exit. He should, too, even if he rather pulls the blanket over his head and just disappears.

Getting out of bed, he gets ready to start the day. The first place he visits is the kitchen to get some caffeine into his system. He remembers dreaming but can’t remember what the dream was, only that it left a foul taste in his mouth and an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Morning,” Hoseok greets, standing in the middle of the kitchen area with a mug in both hands. He doesn’t look like he had a good sleep either.

“Morning,” Jin replies, taking out his mug and pouring himself a good helping of steaming coffee. He stands there, blowing the coffee to have it cool down a little before taking a tentative sip. He looks up at Hoseok, who is buried in some research papers. “Is that a new one?”

The second-in-command nods, not looking up. “Yep. They have a new location for us to check out. I’m just checking to see how much bullshit is in this one.” He rolls his eyes but focuses back on reading, eyebrows knitting together, mouth downturned.

Jin chuckles. “Well, have fun and update me later if there’s anything worth noting.”

He leaves Hoseok and heads towards the front of the Freljord, the huge long windows that line the walls showing him the dark and vast universe outside. A big fat nothing, you used to tell him when he would send pictures earlier in the first year of his voyage. He used to argue with you about it, trying to educate and explain to you that it’s not nothing but a whole new possibility of finding a new planet to call home. That is Freljord's mission, started seven years ago when everyone on board had been excited and full of hope.

Now, not so much, Jin thinks as he enters the main control room, or the cockpit. He finds Namjoon there, looking at a chart hovering inches from his face, the soft glow casting his face blue. “Anything of note?” he asks as he steps up to his chair in the middle and starts up his console.

Namjoon shakes his head. “Nope. Nothing much. Just,” he looks up towards the big glass window ahead, “forward, I guess.”

“Hoseok got some new materials,” Jin says as he busies himself with the blue screen that illuminates holographically in front of him, moving his hands deftly across it in front of his face. “Maybe he’ll have some new coordinates for us.”

Namjoon hums a response before putting away the chart with a flick of his wrist. The two men sit in silence, both tending to their own tasks before Namjoon sighs. Jin glances at his Chief Navigator. “Problem?”

“No,” replies Namjoon with a shake of his head. “Just…”

Jin fully turns around. “What is it?”

“Sometimes it just gets to you, you know,” Namjoon says heavily, rubbing the point in between in his eyes. “It just feels…pointless.”

Jin doesn’t reply but turns his chair back around, looking at the hologram in front of him but not really seeing anything. He understands exactly what Namjoon is saying because he feels it, too, more so recently. It’s just one of those days where he wakes up with the thought of you at the forefront of his mind, unable to push you to where you should be, at the back of his mind, buried with time. His shipmate is right; it does feel pointless. Seven years in space with nothing yet command centre still insists on going further out.

And every year, Jin only grows bitter and bitter. The project was only supposed to be a five-year plan but in the fifth year, a research paper came out about the possibility of finding a habitable planet in Andromeda and they were ordered to head that way. The excuse was that Freljord is advanced enough to make the trip, the first craft to reach the edge of our galaxy in half a decade! So it must be able to travel towards Andromeda, right? With a few stops along the way, because why not, right?

Jin is starting to think that the command centre forgot that there are real life humans in this spaceship, that this isn’t their own science fiction novel that they can write however they pleased. But Jin doesn’t have the power to turn them down. If they turn back around, they’ll be welcomed back as traitors. He had been subtly warned as such.

According to the calculation, they should break into Andromeda’s galaxy in a few more years, five the maximum, three if they’re lucky that nothing gets in their way. But judging from the asteroid shower six months ago that deviated them from their straight path by a year, three years seems unlikely.The idea that they all might just die in space is growing more and more solid in Jin’s mind, the Freljord forever floating, lost in space.

It’s Jin’s turn to sigh, heavy and long. He goes back to his console, typing and clicking on certain things to make sure the ship is running smoothly. Hoseok comes in a few minutes later, a bagel in between his teeth. He removes it before speaking to Jin. “So basically, they want us to head on to this new coordinate.” He points to a long string of numbers on the paper.

“And you don’t look too happy about it,” Jin notes, looking at his face.

Namjoon comes over to peer at the coordinates and his face scrunches up. “Are they fucking with us?”

Jin lets out a humourless laugh. “They’ve been at it for a couple of years now I thought you’d notice.”

“This is way out of our way,” Namjoon points out, annoyed. “This would set us back from the main mission, like, two years the least!”

Namjoon throws himself back into his seat, face buried in his hands. Hoseok gives him a sympathetic look but turns back to Jin. “It’s not set yet. This is just their proposal. But from the sound of those papers, it might already have been decided.”

Jin rubs his temple with two fingers. “And what’s over there?”

Hoseok bites the inside of his cheek before answering, “Water.”

Jin regards him through a frown. “What the fuck.”

The other man shrugs. “Seems like another craft researching asteroids found traces of it.”

“The same ones we passed by six months ago?”

“Seems like it,” the second-in-command answers. “And according to their calculation, this would be the general direction where they came from.”

Jin shakes his head. “That doesn’t make sense. They want us to head straight to an asteroid belt for all we know. Can you reconfirm?”

“Already did. Might take a while until we hear back, though.”

Hoseok watches his captain contemplate, his forehead creasing over. Jin throws his gaze back outside to the abyss in front of him. Honestly, he’s not thinking of anything much. His mind is blank. To him, two years or five years don’t make much of a difference now. Any motivation that he had at the start of this mission to go home and resume the life he left behind is long gone. There’s nothing left for him back on Earth, therefore, nothing left for him to lose. To go or not to go no longer bothers him. But he still has other people to think about, crew members of seventy to weigh in on that decision. They are his main concern.

Hoseok recognises that blank expression well. “I’ll call for a meeting with all the heads during lunchtime.”

The captain merely nods.

***

The seven chief officers sit around the table.

Jin sits in the middle and Hoseok and Namjoon on either side of him. The Communication Officer, Min Yoongi, is to Hoseok’s left and the Chief Science Officer, Park Jimin, is to Namjoon’s right. Kim Taehyung, the Chief Engineer and the Chief of Security, Jeon Jungkook, brings up the total of the leaders on board. Each man is responsible for at least ten other crews under them but the whole weight of the ship falls on Jin’s broad shoulders.

Hoseok finishes the debriefing, keeping it short and simple. He now poses the main question. “We need to know if all of us are in favour of going off route to check out this supposedly new source of water or if we should just remain our course for Andromeda.”

“I say we stay on course,” Jungkook offers first. “We’re already in the second year of a five-year plan for Andromeda. I rather we don’t lose any more years on something so vague.”

Kim Taehyung nods. “I agree.”

“But what if we do find it?” Jimin implores, looking around the table. “The possibility of being the first to find water in space! Imagine that! I say we go check it out.”

“If we do, we’ll be set back by two years at the least,” Namjoon adds. “Would that still be okay?”

Jimin nods. “So what? We’ve already been here seven years. What’s a couple more?”

“Easy for you to say,” Taehyung argues. “Some of us have people waiting for us back home. I promise my fiance at least five more years. Five more years and I’ll be home and I can marry her.”

Jimin pulls a face. “I told you to break it off before we go onto the ship. You’re just stringing her along at this rate.”

“Fuck off,” Taehyung growls. “A playboy like you wouldn’t get it.”

Jimin opens his mouth to retort but Jin slams his fist on the table. “Enough. I’m giving three days for each of you to explain this to your crew and come back with a unionised decision. Majority wins.”

“Come on, captain,” Taehyung pleads. “Let’s not. Let’s tell Command we don’t have enough resources to prolong this voyage. The craft behind us can do it.”

Yoongi nods, agreeing. “It’s their area of study anyway.”

“Their craft isn’t built like ours,” Hoseok interjects. “They wouldn’t make the trip nor would they even make it further out of the Kuiper Belt.”

“Which is why this is coming to us,” Yoongi concludes to himself, silently understanding. Freljord is one of a kind, a miracle created that couldn’t be replicated as close as to the original. It’s high-tech, advanced and self-sustaining in terms of fuel. Shaped like a sperm, the front part is a spherical globe with a bridge connecting a smaller-sized one that makes the tail where the engineering team is.

“Truthfully,” Namjoon pipes up. “I’m with Taehyung on this one. I want to go home, Captain. Don’t you?”

Jin is caught off guard that the navigator would target him, staring at Namjoon like a deer in headlights. Somewhere in the distance, he can hear Taehyung saying something about Jin having left a girlfriend back home, too, so naturally, he should be on their side. But Jin’s mouth is dry. They knew he had someone before they started this mission, he had talked about you, had even had a few grainy video calls with you with them present, had always run back to his room to check for mails from you every night without fail.

Suddenly, Jin is brought back in time.

– – –

“When are you leaving?”

You looked at him through wide, teary eyes, standing at the kitchen island of the apartment you shared with him. He stood on the other side, arms hanging limply on both his sides. He had anticipated that you’d be upset but he didn’t think it would be this bad. He had excitedly come home to show you the letter of acceptance for the Andromeda mission, unable to hide the wide smile on his face. You had read the letter but your face had crumpled. By the end of it, your eyes stung by how much tears are pooling in them.

“It’s a good opportunity,” he had said, trying to convince you. “It’s once in a lifetime and there’s only one spaceship that can do this. It seems I’m the only one compatible to steer it and they need me. It’ll be good for-”

“Is that all you care about?” you wailed. “That they need you? What about me, Jin? What about us?” You waved the letter in his face. “It says here it’ll take ten years. You’re going to be gone for ten years!”

“I know, I know,” Jin tried to placate, putting his arms around your waist. You pulled away moving towards the kitchen, the letter still scrunched up in your fist. He followed you. “Baby, it’s ten years maximum. It could be less. This new spaceship is something no one has ever seen before. It’s much faster, much more-”

“I don’t care, Jin! I don’t fucking care how fucking awesome the ship is! I don’t want you to go!”

You were fully crying by then, leaning against the island top as you tried to get your breathing under control. You placed one hand against your chest, feeling the pain about to rip you apart. You know that he’s been training for this, dedicating most of his youth to the space centre in hopes that one day he’ll get to go. And now he could but you didn’t think the day would come and that it would come so soon.

“When are you leaving?” you asked through shaky lips, your voice barely coming out.

Jin scratched the back of his head. “Well, there’s still more training to do and-”

“When?” you insisted.

Jin studied your face, feeling his hands shake. Mere hours ago, when he received the letter, he had been almost bouncing in his seat, unable to focus on anything except to go home and break the news to you. But now, the excitement had dissipated, replaced with nothing but a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, the kind that made him think that his heart had fallen out of its place. There’s a lump in his throat and he swallows it. “Next year.”

Your face fell once again, crumpling to the floor as your body heaved with every sob. Jin rushed forward, collecting you in his arms and pulling you into his lap. He didn’t have any words to say, didn’t know what he could say to comfort you. He thought you’d understand but understanding and accepting are two very different things, he realised.

Jin knew that as much as this news had been an amazing one, something no one else has ever done before, it’s also something very agonising, now that he’s actually thinking about it. But the pros outweigh the cons, he had selfishly thought. All his life, he had wanted nothing more than to be able to go into space on one of his own missions. He had dreamt of this since he was a little kid, since they were little kids. All those nights of camping in the backyard of your house in the small tent your dad pitched up counting stars, you both had talked about it. Or at least he did.

And you had been supportive of his dreams. You had been the one person in his corner to push him to go into astronautics after high school, the one person who helped him study for exams when he thought that he couldn’t do it because it had been too damn hard. You were the person that packed his lunch on days when he had been too tired to even remember to eat, painstakingly shaping the sausages and eggs and sandwiches into little stars and moons and a rocketman. You had cheered the loudest when he got accepted into the Aerospace Research Institute, taking him out to dinner at one of the most luxurious steakhouses in town. It had cost you three of your part-time paychecks to pay but it had been worth it.

A week after his first paycheck, Jin finally had the balls to ask you to officially be his girlfriend but it had almost seemed that that had been the case for most of your university lives, you two joined at the hips even when you were studying at different universities, that it felt natural to just say yes. He bought you a promise ring three months later and you both had planned out the rest of your lives together. Not once did it occur to both of you that it might not come. Not once did either of you ever doubt a future together, the names of your kids picked out and carefully written in a journal you both shared.

Not until that night of the acceptance letter. It felt like the whole world upended for you, ripped out from beneath your feet. Is this what it felt like for Jin to be in that zero-G simulator day in and day out? Because to you, it feels like nothing is reliable anymore; up is down, left is right, right is wrong. It made you feel like throwing up, your head spinning from the sudden unknown of what’s to come. You didn’t like it and you hated that Jin went to work living off of this feeling. He loves it so much he’s willing to leave you behind for more and that's what hurts the most, unfair as it was.

If truth be told, you never expected for Jin to go into space, not that he was incapable but that it had been difficult to be picked. And it’s not everyday that they were sending people into orbit. When Jin told you about the Andromeda Project, you had secretly doubted it. No other country had ever had the technology to make such a craft that can easily travel into interstellar, never mind one big enough to carry close to a hundred crew. But the Andromeda Project had been going on far longer before Jin joined and by the time he had enough experience and knowledge and whatever else requirements needed, it was time to start choosing and training the right people.

Even then, you had your doubts. According to your brother, Hoseok, the competition was tough and they usually go for those with no young family left behind. Jin might not have a family but he wouldn’t abandon you, right? Only you were wrong. So arrogant you were to think that you could compete with his childhood dream, so you relented.

“Okay,” you said, one night as you were getting ready for bed and Jin was propped against the headboard, reading an article on his iPad. He looked up, confused. “Okay,” you said again. “I’ll support you.”

It takes a moment for Jin’s brain to finally click, throwing down the iPad and crawling over towards your side of the bed. He hugged you from behind, pressing lingering kisses on your shoulder. “I promise it’ll go by faster before you know it.”

You didn’t believe him. Who would? Space exploration is the one thing that no one can really tell on, especially one like the voyage he was about to embark on. It’s never been done before so what precedent can anyone refer to? Everything is a blank slate and yes, he would be making history. You’re proud of him for that but at the same time bitter that it had to be him who goes. What’s worse, Hoseok got in, too, so you’ll be left all alone, the one left waiting.

Jin could see how much you were trying to play the supportive girlfriend role. You never complained about his late nights, you never asked more than what you wanted to know, never burdened him with anything you can handle yourself. You took care of his lunch and supplements and as the months went by, you took care of everything in regards to the household, everything so that Jin didn’t have to think of anything else except his oncoming mission.

And the busier Jin got, the heavier your heart grew. When you had a falling out with one of your close friends, Jin didn’t hear about it. He didn’t have to, his mind was preoccupied enough already. When your mother called one day asking if you were still with him when he was going to leave, you had hung up on her. You cried yourself to sleep because you couldn’t distract him. He needed the rest, he needed the clarity. All that he needed, you gave it to him and with that, he never noticed that you were barely keeping your own head above water as you held him afloat.

Three months before his take off date, Jin went down on one knee. The ring he proposed with had been his mother’s, tweaked to have a new diamond installed, a diamond that resembled the north star. “So I know where I’m heading to. You are my last destination,” he had promised. You said yes, because what else could you have said? Like the rest of the issues that were building, this was one of them that he didn’t need to contend with, not when he was about to leave. The preparation had been tough and Jin was stressed out enough, hardly even home for him to notice the change in you, both mentally and physically.

The first year of the Freljord take off had been excruciating. You only received two emails forwarded through from ARI; one from him and one from Hoseok. It’s the year that they had gone into cryosleep. Jin’s email had been a long one, detailing all the little things saved up in his heart that he never had the chance to tell you while still on Earth and all the little details of his voyage so far, the latter more than the first, and that was when you knew.

But a year wasn’t long enough for you to be sure. You were a good girlfriend so you waited, giving it more time, hoping that with time, you can learn to accept reality. But the next email came almost three years later when he was finally awake again. Moving on was harder than it sounded. It wasn’t an actual break up nor a death but a sort of limbo that your fiance might or might not return. You wanted so much to let him know but it never seemed appropriate to tell something so important via email so you waited for a video call chance.

Video calls are much harder. His crewmates would sometimes pop in and out of frame to say hello, teasing him in the background. But the worst part was the fact that Jin looked happy. He would talk on and on about the ship, the crews, the vast nothingness he could see out the window, none of which you cared for. He did not, in fact, ask anything about the life he left behind. The video calls were short, too, more static than anything else, so never a good time to bring up the subject of the one thing he should know about. But letting him know could cost him the project so you couldn’t do it, didn’t have the heart to.

When you’re on a spaceship that travels on hyperspeed, time completely changes between space and Earth. In his excitement, Jin had completely forgotten about this one important fact. And that was one of his many mistakes.

– – –

Hoseok, who knows more than the others, pulls their attention away from the captain. “Jin already said majority wins. So go back to your units and let us know in three days. We’ll decide from there. Meeting adjourned.”

The others left, talking among themselves but Jin remained at his seat. Hoseok stays next to him. He doesn’t speak, letting the older man decide for himself whether he wants to share whatever that was on his mind or not. Hoseok and Seokjin have been friends since high school, too long to even count the years now. He could tell right away this morning when Jin came into the kitchen that something was wrong and had been wrong for a while now, at least for this past month.

“Is it y/n?” Hoseok broaches, growing a tad bit impatient. If it is, then Hoseok can worry less. If it’s something to do with the mission then he should know about it, too.

Jin slowly looks up. His eyes are clouded over, making it hard for Hoseok to read his best friend. What in the world is he hiding? What is it?

Without speaking, Jin takes out his mobile pad from his belt, swipes around on it and then passes it over to Hoseok, looking down at his lap. The Chief Officer silently takes the device and looks at the screen. The first thing he sees is the sender’s name: y/n l/n. The body of the message is short. A simple, ‘I’m sorry, Seokjinie.’ There’s an attachment at the bottom and he taps on it. At the sight of the image, Hoseok whips back around to Jin.

“When did you get this?”

“Last month,” Jin croaks out, still looking down. When he speaks again, his voice breaks. “The further away we are from Earth, the longer it takes for messages to arrive.” The tears flow, dripping down Jin’s face and into his lap. He has yet to raise his head.

Hoseok looks back down to the picture. He recognises it, receiving the same one in his email at the same time Jin did, he bet. He hadn’t said anything to the captain, didn't know how. But Jin also had been quiet, too quiet, he thinks but if the man wasn’t ready to talk about it, Hoseok isn’t the type to push. Now, he thinks he should’ve.

Yes, the further away they move from Earth, the harder it is for any communication to happen between Command and the ship. It just takes longer for anything to arrive. Not only that, Freljord moves at the speed of light, warping the concept of time for all its crew. If Hoseok’s calculation is correct, this email is five years late, which means-

Jin’s crying grows harder, sobbing so hard he doubles over. Hoseok can only put one hand on the man’s back, rubbing up and down but not really doing much to calm his friend. Jin had never experienced such pain, his chest aching so much he wishes he could tear his skin off if it alleviates the hurt. Jin has always been good at bottling his feelings, he’s done it his whole life. He’s not an emotional person (wouldn’t be able to be an astronaut if he was).

When you were kids and he skinned his knees from falling over his bicycle, you were the one who cried while he stood there stoically as his mother slaps on a cartoon band aid. When Hoseok would get angry at him for hogging the PlayStation, he would just drop the controller in the midst of the boss battle so Hoseok can have a turn. When you were angry at him for something he had said, he had sat there calmly listening to you ranting at him why it was the wrong thing to say, mentally noting to not say it again. When you had broken down over the news of his acceptance to the Andromeda Project, his eyes had been dry.

But right now, it feels like the whole ship could go down and he wouldn’t give a fuck if it meant he would stop feeling this ripping pain. If a window of the ship had been breached, he would run towards it and lunge himself out. If there was anything on the manual about how to numb the agony coursing through his veins, he would tear out every nook and cranny of this ship to find it. But all he has is Hoseok, silently rubbing his back.

“I’m too late, Hoseok,” he keens, the note of his voice breaking Hoseok’s heart. “I’m too late. I was so stupid. So fucking stupid. I shouldn’t have come. I should’ve stayed behind. I should’ve been with her.”

But Hoseok’s not sure if time would reverse, Jin would choose differently. He knows the man too well. Space is all he has ever talked about, he’s sure even you knew that. Hoseok also knows that if Jin had decided to not go, you would’ve changed his mind. You love him too much to not let him live his dreams and Hoseok thinks it’s only fair for Jin to do the same. But he guesses the difference was that one had seen it coming long before while the other had been too blinded by passion. Neither was wrong, though, he thinks.

As Jin continues to bawl, loud enough for Yoongi to come back to the kitchen to check on the noise but retreat back out once he sees Jin, Hoseok looks back at the picture still on the screen of Jin’s communicator pad. The cream-coloured background with the gold emboss of the wedding invite stares prettily back at him. Hoseok wonders how old his niece and nephew are now.

– – –

The house is finally quiet, the only sound being the clinking of dishes as you wash them, humming to yourself softly to a song you can’t quite remember the title of nor the actual lyrics.

Every once in a while, you catch yourself looking up into the window above the sink and only seeing your reflection, the necklace around your neck glinting everytime it catches the light. The north star diamond rests just right on your sternum, lightly thudding against your bone whenever you move.

You’re lost in your own thoughts, your hands moving automatically, the sound of the tap water running a background noise. Your husband is already in bed; he’d had a long day at work. You’re sure that when you go up to bed, he’ll stir awake before pulling you to sleep in his arms. He told you once a long time ago, six months into the relationship, that he cannot sleep without you any longer. You’re his comfort then, his comfort now fifteen years later. But you probably won’t go straight to bed when you’re done with this.

You put the last dish on the rack and wipe your hands. The letter that came in today sits on the table in the hallway, untouched. You had taken one look at the logo stamped on the front left corner of the envelope and had almost dropped it, feeling like the piece of paper had burnt you. With shaky hands, you had picked it back up and placed it where it is now, hoping that when the recipient sees it, he’ll take care of it.

But he hadn’t so now you have to make sure that he does before he sleeps. You make your way up the steps, one hand running up the bannister, not for support but mostly because if you don’t have your hand on something solid, you’d feel like you might float away. The skylight installed years ago allows the bright light of the full moon to cascade down into the house, illuminating your way perfectly fine. You look up at the sky, noticing the tiny little sparkling stars and you can’t help but feel bittersweet, a sort of melancholy you thought would have faded in time. The letter is clutched in your other hand.

Up the stair, you make towards the first door on the left. You take a deep breath, send up a silent prayer and knock.

“Yeah?”

You open the door and peer in, finding your son sitting at his desk, his laptop opened. He leans over his chair to look at you, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?” you ask.

He nods. “Yeah, sure. ‘Sup?”

You walk in and look around the room. For a seventeen-year-old teenager, he’s pretty tidy, tidier than his twin sister, surprisingly. The many books on the shelves are arranged in order of genres; fiction, non-fiction, and school books. The fiction section consists of about fifteen books right at the bottom. Two-third of the tall shelves are full of non-fictions, mostly science related, almost all on space and astronomy. When he had expressed interest in that specific area, you had been hesitant, but you’re not one to stand in the way of the people you love. It has always been like that.

Above his bed, stuck to the ceiling, are a constellation of stars and planets, glowing green in the dim lighting. Among them is a rocket-shaped one.

That’s why when the letter came today, you knew what it was. Your heart and brain war against each other; one tells you to rip it up to miniscule pieces and throw them away, the other already knows you’ll do what’s right. Because you’ve done it before.

You sit on his bed, careful not to mess up the covers too much. The laundry basket is full and you point to it. “I told you to bring it down, didn’t I?”

Taejin pushes his chair away from the desk and swirls it around to face you. “You didn’t come here to lecture me about my laundry, omma, did you?”

You look at him, noticing that his hair is getting a little long around the ears, poking against his neck and fluffy at the top. Except for his eyes, he looks nothing like you and very much resembles his father more than anything. It’s a haunting image sometimes. There’s more of his father in him than just the look, apparently. You smile and shake your head. “No, I didn't.” You produce the letter. “I came to give you this. It arrived earlier today.”

His eyes light up before it dims again. He opens his mouth then closes it, shaking his head. “I was waiting for it but now I don’t know if I’m ready to know.”

You mull over his words, nodding to yourself. “But how long are you going to put it off? Even if you don't, time will still continue to flow, you know? It’s not going to stop just because you’re not ready.”

He looks a little confused, his head tilted to one side. You let out a soft laugh. “Look, Jinnie, if you get in, that’s great. If you don’t, it’s not the end of the world. You can choose another school, another programme.” You doubt the latter half of your words, knowing him well enough that it wouldn’t be that easy for him to give it up. “Or would you want me to look for you?”

He thinks about it before shaking his head. “No. I’ll do it.”

You hand him the letter, watching him tear it open with shaking fingers. He pulls out the piece of paper inside and unfolds it. He gives you one last look and you nod with encouragement. “It’s not the end of the world.”

He reads it, eyes going over the words with such speed before he looks up, eyes wide. Curious, you get up and stand next to him, reading the content of the letter from over his shoulder. A small part of you withered, noting that this is how it had started, too, back then. You beam at Taejin, ruffling his hair. “Congratulations, my little spaceman. You got in.”

While your daughter pursues music, your son follows his dream. As Areum debuted in a girl-group in South Korea, Taejin finishes his internship with the Aerospace Research Institute. As you cheer Areum at her first stadium concert, Taejin is wrapping up his initial training as an astronaut as one of the top trainees in line for the space mission, Andromeda II. On the day that Areum flies back from her Grammy performance show, she heads straight for ARI, breathless and still very much jetlag to say goodbye to her twin before his thirty days quarantine starts. She might not see him again, ever, but that’s something you did not mention to either of them.

Areum had to leave earlier, tear-stained face waving goodbye from the door, unable to actually leave. You watch as Taejin gives her one last, long hug, the kind of hug that clearly communicates the amount of love he has for her, the kind of hug people give when they know it might be the final goodbye. She leaves then, hiccuping and sobbing, and you wished you had left with her. But not yet, you still have one last thing for your son, a parting gift.

“I want you to have something,” you say, unclasping the necklace from around your neck and placing it in his palm, closing his fingers onto it. “I want you to hold on to this for me, okay?”

Taejin looks close to tears. “But, omma. I know how precious this necklace is to you. Are you sure? Shouldn’t you be giving this to Areum instead?”

You smile at him. “I have something else for her, don’t worry. I want you to wear it, always.”

He doesn’t ask questions but puts it around his own neck, placing it safely inside his T-shirt. “Will Jackson be okay with you giving me this?” he laughs, only jesting.

You shake your head. “It wasn’t from him.”

He looks surprised.

You let out a soft sigh. “Taejin-ah,” you say, trying to arrange your words carefully. “Do you remember that astronaut story I used to tell you when you were little? The one that went on to travel the universe, in search of his north star?”

He nods hesitantly, probably the memory of the story faded with time. “I can recall bits and pieces. Why?”

“Well, what if I tell you he had been a real person?”

Taejin stares at you. “What do you mean?”

Suddenly, the intercom in the lounge room crackles to life and a disembodied voice echoes throughout the whole arena. “Five minutes until quarantine starts. All trainees are required to check in at seventeen hundred hours.” The announcement is repeated once more and you grip Taejin’s hand, your heart breaking. How many times can it break the same way in a lifetime?

“Listen to me,” you say, speaking urgently. “You told me that your mission is to-”

“Converge with the crew of the first Andromeda mission on Planet-”

“Yes, that,” you interject, waving for him to stop. Time is running out. “There’s someone on that mission that I want you to find, someone who will recognise the necklace I gave you.”

“Someone other than Uncle Hoseok?”

You nod and smile but the tears are creeping down your cheeks. Taejin catches them with his fingers but you ignore him, ignore the tears. “When you find him, you’d know. All the questions you’ve been asking me that I couldn’t answer will be answered, I promise you.”

The announcement reverberates through the air one more time and the whole room flutters with activity as family members and friends and loved ones of those taking off next month hurry to leave or give one last hug or kiss.

Taejin looks a little lost. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. What are you-”

“Trust me, okay? Wear the necklace always and you’ll know when you find him,” you repeat, getting up and pulling away but your son wouldn’t let go of your hands.

“Omma, please,” he begs. “I need more explanation. Why tell me this now?”

You manage to free your hands from his grasp, the tears blurring your vision. You pull him in for one last hug and hold his head in place as you place a kiss on his forehead. “I love you, Taejinnie. All I did was out of love. Tell Hoseok I love him and miss him so much. We all do. Tell them all about us.”

Taejin relents, letting go of you and finally moving towards the door that will take him and the others inside the building to be quarantined pre-flight. He has his suspicions on who you meant but the name was never mentioned, or it was in the story you’ve told that he had thought fiction. But that was a story when he was a child, something that’s only a vague memory in his head. Now, he racks his brain for it.

For the next thirty days of quarantine, Taejin obsesses over remembering the name. In a bout of desperation, he manages to pull up the name list of all the crews of the Freljord, the predecessor ship of the one he will embark on. He doesn’t have to look far, the name jumping out to him on the first line, noticing the similarity immediately. Captain Kim Seokjin. To confirm it, he finds a picture of the commanding officers of that spaceship and he almost falls over his chair.

It’s like staring at a picture of himself. The father that he had been looking for all this time, the father that he had given up asking about by the time he was eight, is one of the men that he is going to meet in another galaxy. He grabs ahold of your necklace, his fist wrapping around the north star diamond.

“I’m coming,” he whispers to himself, his fingers rubbing against the diamond softly. “Please be there. I'm coming to find you.”

a/n2: I might have ended this a little too abruptly but I was running out of motivation lol lmk what you think of this one shot in the comment or ask. Like and reblog will be much appreciated :)

Check out my other works → :MASTERLIST:

#bts jin #kim seokjin #kim seokjin x you #bts one shot #kim seokjin one shot #jin one shot #bts ksj #bts angst #jin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin x reader #jin astronaut #bts sci fi

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x-authorship-x · 6 months

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"Did he smile at them" lmao Raido clearly acting like this isn't the first time something similar happened

Honestly I have so much fun with SQ2 because they all do outrageous shit but in specific flavours and it's so fun picking who would freak out over what!!!

Like Kakashi, in his ANBU era before he gets even more publically erratic, is extremely unfazed by anyone's outrageous behavior because 1) he does not care or know where the social line in the sand is and 2) he's not intervening even when it's specifically his circus, his monkeys... And when it comes to doing outrageous shit, Kakashi's rule is that if he can, then he fucking will, and the gods themselves cannot fucking stop him 😂 for example, this man will flaunt porn in public on purpose and theft is only theft if he is the victim

With Shisui, he is painfully aware of social convention (the Elders are BREATHING down his neck, he can already feel Mikoto's eyes burning his skull) BUT it's all about context. Can he get away with it? Yes? FULL STEAM AHEAD. Are there witnesses? Yes? Will Genjutsu fix it? No? FUCK, RUN FOR YOUR LIVES (bursts into flames from the mortifying ordeal of being known and unable to lie). For example, Shisui gaslighting everyone in earshot? A normal Monday. Genma makes a dirty joke at his expense? JAIL, JAIL, WE ARE ALL GOING TO HELL AND SHISUI IS GONNA TAKE THEM THERE 🔥🤡🔥

Tenzo is arguably the funniest because my boy straight up is not in the know 😂 Tenzo will say the most bland shit and it will hit the feels.... Tenzo will also say the most fucked up thing in your entire life and it will be an attempt at humor and you've got to just keep living your life. No, being in the Squad isn't helping. Kakashi is just as bad, if intentional, and Genma is enabling him, Raidou doesn't have the energy to fight a losing battle and Shisui isn't being paid enough to therapy dog the whole group. This is just an incredible wildcard.

Genma....! When he's yelling at the others, it's not because he wants them to stop. It's because HE is supposed to be the hysterical influence and he gets jealous when they upstage him. Shisui batting his eyelashes and getting the spa treatment as a hostage is just too much to bear, Genma tried to give a target a lapdance once and all he got was ten bucks and the desire to shower ASAP 😂😭🤡 he is so so proud of the chaos (he knows EXACTLY what he's doing) but he is also absolutely plotting how to one up the others on the outrageous scale

Raidou.... Oh I saved him for last, Anon, because not only is he the one you were actually commenting on but Raidou's reaction is always my fav. You THINK, looking at the group, that Raidou is the resident normal one. You might have thought that with drinking (nope, Raidou's drunken antics are firmly about 'Me Time' and he's valid, he is NOT designated driving). Or maybe paperwork (Tenzo and Shisui do the paperwork, actually, because Raidou's tends to get ruined by Genma/Kakashi or his own pyrotechnics/ink). Or maybe just being socially conscious individuals.... No. Raidou might be the most normal one because he has a stable home life, civilian parents who are both alive and who love and support him, and he sees the 'other side' of living in Konoha... But he also was the only one to be look at the options in life and PICK being a Shinobi. Like HELLO that's a bit INTERESTING. Raidou is So Done (I'm sorry but *looks at the rest of the SQ* YOUR HOME LIFE WAS WHAT) but simultaneously So On Board (you wanna tattoo your eyelids with fuinjutsu? Say less, bestie) for the bullshit like yes this is deffo the normal Shinobi way to behave, Genma of COURSE Shisui flirted with his captors now please help me steal the bedframe it's solid wood and the slats keep popping out of my bunk at home 👏👏👏 Raidou won't condone being an asshole to service staff but he's more than willing to calmly go back to his book when someone is plotting a murder at the next table.... It's just not his business 💅

This got out of hand, sorry Anon BUT yeah Raidou would classify Shisui's puppy eyes as both a cringe-fail tactic BUT an effective means of manipulation... So long as he doesn't have to watch the car wreck 😂

#torship #torship talks #ask #anon #shisui #raidou #Kakashi #genma #tenzo #squad two #hope au

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secretsliedevelopment · 4 months

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Jan 2024 ||

G'day ;) I know I haven't been too-too active here, Mostly because I wasn't really sure HOW to start of this blog? I didn't want to suddenly Dump a bunch Of Info no one really knows about or random headcanons from characters that aren't shown too often . SO I thought I should start off by introducing the main cast ! Just so everyone Is familiar with them <3

NOW there are quite a few Important characters + Villains that haven't been shown yet (Or half shown ) . They are equally important for the story BUT Since they appear later we'll do The Trio + Sirens !

Look Under the Cut for The sillies ! V (Click their names for toyhouse !)

MAIN TRIO

Skylar Rosania || She / Her

Skylar is a happy-go-lucky girl, full of life and adventure. She knows that her impulsiveness and naivety can lead her into trouble, but nothing can hold her back from trying new things and pushing herself to her limits.

Amelia Krystallo || She / They

Ameilia is courageous and protective of those They care for, but is often headstrong and blunt, keeping Their feelings to herself. Despite this, she is passionate in everything They do and cares deeply for those close to her.

Lennon Delyis || He / Him

Lennon works as a Lead investigator , He is often self-critical and Tends to overthink things, but when he sets his mind to something he truly cares about, you'll see his imagination run wild as he goes full steam ahead. He is Incredibly resourceful

SIRENS

Jackson Almero || He / Him

The Main guitarist In sirens + A renowned Model . He is a dangerous individual who will go to any length to achieve his goals. Appearing on the outside of a charming, Charismatic individual lies nothing more than a Deceitful, Cynical, monster. If not getting his way His temper will get to him and things will turn south pretty quickly.

Xiu Lin || They / Them

The main Drummer + High end Fashionista. Xiu is a cooperative, observant individual, who is always thoughtful and calculating in Their approach. they are skilled in using their resources and their wits to accomplish a goal, knowing exactly what needs to be done and finding a way to do it. On they outside they appear to have a Cold and reserved exterior.

Celine Svana || She / Her

Celine, Celine - The serene queen !

The leader, A singer , An icon - A legend ! Celine is a confident and sophisticated woman, with a strong work ethic that drives her to succeed. However, she can also be arrogant, with a tendency to look down on others and act superior to them. She is unwilling to compromise her ego Will be her downfall.

Hmm.. I feel like we're forgetting someone .

. . .

OH, that's right ██████ :) Oh well- He's pretty much Irrelevant !

That Is all of the main cast ! :D or atleast the ones you'll be seein Often ! I hope this helps familiarize you with my Lovelies ! I'll eventually start showing of concepts and possible worldbuilding so stay tuned and follow the blog if your interested <3 And ofc If you want info ASAP ! join my discord Linked in my link tree <3

#Devilyblog #ocintro #oclore

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treason-and-plot · 1 year

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BELATED REPLIES

@dandylion240

Wow Roy! Just wow! He has very low people reading skills when he wants something. He's like a steamroller charging full steam ahead flattening everything in his way. I don't think Anya is onboard with this idea. I think he should have at least waited until after he'd dicussed it with Violet and Sonya.

The steamroller analogy is perfect for how Roy operates! Once he wants, or thinks he is entitled to something, it's very difficult for him to take no for an answer. He also tends to have tunnel vision and it's hard for him to see others' POV. And he definitely wouldn't think he has any reason to discuss it with Sonia or Violet bc it's his house, dammit!

@batsheba

Jeeze Roy, seriously!? Anyone thinking this is a good idea should get their head examined. I hope the proposal is sex and not the other kind otherwise I think Anya's head may start exploding...

I suppose the proposal is sex from Roy's POV...now he's got Anya away from her family and set up in their own little love nest!

@windermeresimblr

This is not going to make Sonia get better. This would probably kill her from shock. Run away, Anya, run away!

@justanothersimsblog

Can't wait for Anya to tell *this* to her parents lol

@sweetnovember77

Apparently, everyone has the power to create their reality through manifestation. 🤷🏾‍♀️ Hopefully, everything goes according to Roy’s plan. 😂

I think that if anyone has the ability to make this scheme a reality, Roy does! He has an unshakeable faith in himself and fully believes himself capable of achieving anything he sets out to do. Roy approaches life with the expectation that he can solve any problem that arises and overcome any obstacle that's put in his way and if he can't...well, that's great too because he can turn it into a learning experience!

@kscriba

I know Anya is open-minded and easy-going, but I'd be running SO fast and far!!

It's difficult for me to say what I'd do...Hell, who am I kidding! It wouldn't be hard at all!

@zosa95

Roy has lost his damn mind. Why stop there, Roy? Move in Anya's parents while you're at it.

@wannabecatwriter

If this doesn't turn her off him, I don't know what else will.

@nectar-cellar

@zosa95 😂😂😭

@brannewjoint

oh wow i knew Roy was missing a couple screws but i think he's lost the whole damn toolbox lmaoo. this is a wild idea 💀

@curmudgeonness

Thinking is far from Roy's strong suit!

@parystrange

I don't even want to facepalm or headdesk. I'd probably knock myself out. Jeez Roy... you're so fucking dumb sometimes.

@shadysentinel

ROY. WHAT ARE YOU DOING

@muses-circle

Anya, welcome to Roy's World. It is bonkers. You might want to consider running 🤣 Roy, dude. You might be surprised to find Anya not as amenable to your next proposal as you think, not after the big damn nuke you just dropped. Geeeeeez.

@lilsisterg

😵‍💫🙃🤭Does he even want Sonia to get well?

@pixelatedpanic

Yeowch! Roy has big entitled man energy, very happy to talk the women in his life into whatever is most convenient for him. 🙄

'Entitled' is quite complimentary compared to some of the other things people have called him!

@queeniecook

He's actually put a lot of thought into this, maybe not all the correct thought. lol.

That's a very diplomatic way of looking at it! But as far as Roy is concerned, if he wants something, he will go after it with everything he's got and won't let anything stand in his way. Which is a) Admirable b) Crazy or c) Entitled depending on whom you talk to ;=). I personally tend to have a quite a bit of admiration for people who can focus so singlemindedly their goals, but at the same time Roy's tunnel-vision and selfishness can be pretty toxic.

@mysimsloveaffair

Roy has officially lost it. Sonia will never get better with this type of madness going on.

I'm hoping that some sanity can prevail once Sonia is well enough to share her thoughts on the proposal, otherwise things could get very nasty indeed. And yes, Sonia's health must take priority here, something which Roy seems to have completely overlooked!

@whyhellosims

She's taking it really well! And I'm glad to have some clarity on his plans, honestly. It's not going to go like he imagines, plans rarely do, but gods it'll be entertaining to see the outcome

Ha, I hope it will be entertaining and not too much of a bloodbath! (YES, I'M LOOKING AT YOU, SONIA!)

#replies

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nancypullen · 5 months

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Quiet Morning

I was up early today and decided to whizz through a bunch of chores. I popped in my hand-me-down Air Pods (I'm the Amish granny in this gadget crazed family and tech trickles down), picked a playlist and got busy. I unloaded the dishwasher, cleaned all the stainless appliances, gave every crack and crevice in the kitchen a fragrant spray and wiped it all down, took out the garbage, swept the floors, cleaned all of the downstairs windows, then went upstairs and cleaned bathrooms. After throwing a load of tea towels and bath towels into the washer I came back down to scramble myself some eggs. With John Mellencamp singing in my ears about the good ol' days, I paused and looked through my kitchen window.

That autumn scene stopped me in my busy tracks and I paused to soak it up. It's not a magnificent ocean view, I'm not overlooking rolling farmland, it's probably not the view of anyone's dreams - but the simplicity of that white picket fence and the multi-colored leaves gave me a moment of joy. Don't get me wrong, I'm a happy gal. I thank my lucky stars every day that the people I love (family and friends) are all healthy and thriving, that I wake up in a safe, warm home with full cupboards, clean, running water, and the freedom to do as I please. But sometimes when we're caught up in what must be done, it's lovely when the universe puts a speed bump in our way. The ol' stop and smell the roses advice, or in this case stop and admire the leaves. It's been a beautiful autumn here - vibrant color, cool temperatures, and of course, our wonderful trip to Ireland. I'm seeing more frosty mornings now and the bird and squirrel population is noticeably less active. Fall is winding down and as she waltzes out leaving a trail of scarlet and gold behind her, I hope Old Man Winter is mixing up some blizzards for us. I'm ready for a winter wonderland. I'm ready for thick socks, bubbling pots of soup, cozy nights with good books, and planning spring's garden. It's also time to rest.

That probably sounds crazy to say as we're careening toward busy Thanksgiving kitchens and all of the December madness, but it is a time to rest. The world does slow down in winter. Most mandatory chores are indoors now, and less frequent - I do a lot less laundry in the winter when we're not getting sweaty and dirty. My floors stay cleaner when we're not tracking stuff in from the gardens. I even tend to make more sheet pan meals or one-pot dinners. In the summer there are festivals, fairs, and barbecues to attend. In the winter, once the holidays pass, we socialize a bit less. It's time for everyone to retreat to their caves and hibernate.

That said, I'll be cooking like a mad woman for the next couple days. Matt is home for Thanksgiving (THAT makes my heart sing!) and I like to make it memorable for him. He doesn't get a ton of homecooked meals so I like to put all of his favorites on the table. None of us need a big Thanksgiving meal, but we all want it. I'm an enabler. Butter = love. I will nurture you right into a heart attack. In my defense I have planned healthy meals right up to Turkey Day. In fact, Turkey Eve will just be salads. I'm Jekyll and Hyde in the kitchen. After the feast, it is full steam ahead with decorating, wrapping, celebrating, and then welcoming the brand spankin' new year. Let's make everything sparkle and have a ball and then settle down for a long winter's nap. I will if you will.

I'm off to play with Matt. He's going to be thrilled to accompany me on a trip to Easton to buy wrapping paper. We're walkin' on the wild side, folks. I'm sending out love and loads of gratitude today. Stay safe, stay well, get some rest. XOXO, Nancy

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consoledacup · 9 months

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Not a question, just piggybacking off the 4x18 post + your response. But pls give your thoughts on anything I said.

I want to know how & when Spencer knew Layla was one of Jordan’s favorite people lol (4x18). & if it was bc he peeped them spending more time together, then the secret dating could’ve been so much better with him & liv spying on jordayla. Tailing them as they snuck around to more places than JUST the studio.

I think Spencer was noticing the closeness developing with jordayla, specifically Jordan's affection for Layla. Not in a romantic way because he had no idea until 5x09.

But steadily, he realized they were like, best friends. He might have seen Jordan worrying about Layla when they were all at the hospital for Coop, he might not have. But Layla moving into the Baker house definitely signified how close she really was to their family.

And Spencer saw Jordan just go completely full steam ahead planning her over-the-top bday party that JJ set up. He even told Liv Jordan wasn't gonna like it when he found out they had returned the piñata, thus altering Layla's party.

He saw them get chummier. Like, they were always together and involved in their Vortex, but they tended to pair themselves off now. So Layla probably went to a lot of the parties JJ threw at the beach house when she was in town. And she and Jordan most likely hung out together.

Jordan might have casually mentioned that he was gonna be a buffer between Layla and her dad at the Baker house, and he might have seen them together at Preach's thing the next day. And Layla, Jordan, and Liv went to the gym opening together, so again, he's discovering how close Jordan and Layla are becoming. He doesn't put any weight on it or think about it one way or the other, but there are a lot of opportunities for him to piece together.

She was there at the party at the beach house where everyone praised Jordan for his winning touchdown and Spencer's fire play. They most likely stuck by each other most of the night. And he was there when Jordan announced that he'd be accompanying Layla to the studio.

And jordayla had to have told everyone that they were stuck in her studio, hence the reason why they were absent. Then he finds out either from Liv or Layla that Jordan and Layla took a road trip to see Carrie. Because he didn't react when Layla talked about confronting her, so he knew what happened. And he had the final opportunity to notice jordayla spending time together at his apparel launch.

So... he's surrounded by potential moments. Not sure if he paid attention to all of them, but when it came down to cheering Jordan up, he knew exactly to ask.

To your second point, as fun as secret relationships can be with the hi-jinx of it all, I really respected this storyline. Layla's reasons for keeping things secret came from a really pure place. Once Jordan clarified that she wasn't ashamed of him and wasn't hiding him, they were able to treat their relationship with so much tenderness and care.

So I don't mind that Spencer and Liv didn't catch on until later. And everything about 5x09 was gold. I think Daniel's humor is severely underrated. And the scenes he had with Mike and Greta were just hilarious. I also thought Spencer's reaction and talk with Jordan after was very lovely.

Also, Liv finding out when she did worked beautifully for the moment. And I loved each one of her close calls with them beforehand.

#jordayla #spencer james #all american #layla keating #jordan baker #olivia baker

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adelaidedrubman · 1 year

Note

2, 6, 12 (sfw) + 3, 4, 9 (nsfw) for JohnJess!

thank you again beloved and sorry that these took awhile and for the long answers, particularly on 12 you kinda activated my trap card for something in wildfire i like talking about:/

2. Who’s the messiest? The cleanest?

john leaves most of his unattended mess in the arts and crafts zone and keeps their living areas fairly tidy and presentable. at least compared to jestiny “passenger’s seat full of chip bags and energy drink cans” rook, who lives like this.

6. Going out to eat: Who pays? Who orders the most food? And who has dessert?

honestly they don’t go out to eat that often? it’s usually eating around the house for them or grabbing food to go while on some other type of outing.

most of the time they do dine out it’s a jessie dragging them into some kind of dive (or loudly announcing she’s going there so john will follow) situation because that’s the only place she’ll set foot. and similarly she’s usually just going to steam ahead and order/pay for whatever she’s getting as well, and if he wants to order something too that’s his business. he often doesn’t — not much to suit his palate (so he claims, before stealing her food) and he’s mainly just there to bother jessie anyways, so she gets the ordering the most food award too.

12. Can they stand silence? Who talks the most? Who talks the least?

i mean, beyond the extremely obvious “they are both physically incapable of shutting up” vibe... i actually intentionally make it a Theme that the answer to that first question is a very unexpected yes, actually. while shutting up is still a rarity because they just have so much to say both in general and to each other, they can in fact feel comfortable in silence together.

like, in wildfire, john directly tells the reader quite adamantly and earnestly in an extended internal monologue that leads chapter 11 that he Hates Silence, he’s always Hated Silence, and his actions in that chapter (going into full hysterics when joseph asks he for once, in his life, Don’t Talk just Listen and Think) demonstrate as much.

...except that there are two distinct instances during his interaction with jessie in the chapter just prior in which he is explicitly comfortable with jessie briefly dropping their conversation to demand or impose silence. and he immediately goes on the very next chapter to in fact feel so comfortable existing in silence with her that he falls asleep during jessie’s requested Hour of Silent Reflection, turning it into a full eight. so john what is the truth. (it’s that they both feel comfortable and confident enough in how the other Reacts to them and their strange fucked up bond that they can tolerate silence with each other when they couldn’t otherwise.)

jessie is generally more comfortable with silence (despite her self-proclaimed need to not hear herself think sometimes) and does talk less overall (easy designation to win), in general and when they’re together. with others she tends to be fairly closed off and wont to shut down despite being assertive and jocular. and with john she tends to commit to longer stretches of silence at some misplaced attempt at stonewalling and not giving him the satisfaction of a verbal response. 50/50 odds on if she also ends up being the person breaking the silence.

3. Any kinks they clash on?

nothing major. there are perhaps things they’d say on paper they’re into more than the other, but most of those preferences are generally secondary and easily cast aside for whatever the most spontaneous desperate patheticcore cringecore sex they can have is regardless.

john would say that he wishes jessie would give up control more often, but he’s lying. he is in fact quite satisfied with the fine line between getting brat tamed and being a bossy power bottom he is allowed to occupy, and if she did it would definitely be a dog that caught the car problem:/ he would also wholeheartedly proclaim that he does not share the blasphemy kink that jessie also swears she does not have, but. see below answer to #4, i think jestiny “i would like to corrupt the thought of this sacred location for you and that somehow makes jerking you off a personal victory for me” rook in fact might just have a blasphemy kink. jessie would claim to “not be into” a lot of “weird fucking shit john’s into” then proceed to fire off a list of kinks he has never once actually voiced interest in while with her and may or may not actually have.

4. Oddest place they’d have sex?

...i really couldn’t quantify it. spread eagle alley is definitely the most normcore? (i kid, they manage to do it in their own bedroom every now and then.) actually Weirdest™ hookup is probably in future wildfire chapters i won’t spoil, although already (spoiler alert) points for the recent sex one of the hay bales at the cult baptism area. (yeah the same one jessie got drowned at. different time though she wasn’t actively hostage or drugged.) in aus points for eden’s gate outreach center and altar at the convent as some of the weirdest i think.

9. Quickest turn ons? Immediate turn offs?

there is usually a very particular moment when john is trying very hard to get jessie’s attention and she’s making a big show of ignoring him when he finally says or does something that causes her to stop everything she’s doing and direct the entirety of her (usually surface level angry) attention towards him. and that moment is like a flip of a switch on the whole interaction, a pin drop moment when you can practically hear him immediately getting rock hard. besides that, he loves any time she just reaches out to grab him. he loves when she pulls his hair or grabs him by the hips, and when she trails her fingers along his collarbone.

as much as she claims to be irritated by it, jessie gets very aroused by the way john tends to just. hover in her personal space and wait for her to make a move. she likes when he whispers in her ear and gives her ghosting touches, brushing her hair out of the way or picking something off her clothing far too intimately. she really likes when she can hear his voice get breathier around her even when he’s not trying to whisper. and she’s officially off to the races anytime he finally gives up the teasing game to just break down and tell her what he wants in his mix betwen begging/demanding voice.

and not many honest to god turn offs with them, most would-be moodkillers they just openly complain about then move past with equal enthusiasm. only actual turnoff would be being interrupted. (maybe do it in private more then, freaks.)

#otp: stop bothering these nice folks

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voidspacecowboy · 2 years

Text

Contains Spoilers

Can this be considered a period of Cat-and-Fox bonding, if most of it is still arguing?? I don’t know but I love it regardless. The tension between them on top of the existing tension building for what they’re about to do— it’s great. I’m glad I wrote that. Go me.

These chapters also unlock more of Fox’s tragic backstory — something you will know much more about if you’ve read his short story on Wattpad — and explain a little more about why he’s such a prickly little grump. I have always had a soft spot for the kind of character that desperately wants a family and to be happy but can’t quite trust it when it does happen, and that is so very clear in the way I wrote Fox. He wants to be Cat’s friend. At this point, he’s starting to think he maybe wants to be a little more; he’s definitely intrigued by her, in so many ways, but he’s not as aware of his feelings as Cat is.

She, on the other hand, mostly finds those feelings an inconvenience, but also just really wants Fox to accept her as part of the crew. Their little nerd-out together over Fox’s inventions is so cute, even if it does span some of the most blatant fantasy techno-babble I have ever committed in my life.

I tried, you guys. It’s harder than it looks to make up science that sounds legitimate in a fantasy world. This is why most people tend to go with magic, which is a lot more abstract and malleable in its workings — but I was dead set on the steampunk vibe with zero magic involved, so I had to make up a bunch of words and processes instead. I was also trying not to make things sound too complicated, aware that my audience is kids and also that anything that feels over-explained has the risk of feeling like it’s compensating for something.

So it might seem a little farfetched, what they can do, but like, they already have television in a sense? Is it too wild to think that a mind as industrious as Fox might figure out how to miniaturise things, especially after having seen similar existing designs? Not to mention the complex nature of the mechas — I figured if no one is going to get at me for how technologically advanced those things are, I was in the clear. Where’s the fun in a story without a little fancy science, anyway?

While a lot of the focus is on Cat and Fox for obvious reasons, I do also like the little glimpses of Matt and Ben getting to know Cat better, too.

I have a lot of love for Matt and Ben, and I can say now that I feel like I did them a disservice in this book. In the original draft, there was a lot more of them; moments of down-time between the plot beats, little snippets here and there that hinted a lot more heavily at the romantic nature of their relationship. It was never discussed outright in the book — I didn’t think it was something Cat would piece together, nor would the boys bring it up of their own accord, especially with everything else going on — but there were a lot more moments that spelled things out in a way I expected the reader to pick up on. There was even a moment of Cat catching Ben leaving Matt’s room early in the morning, and him giving a weak excuse about falling asleep in the chair.

I don’t want to imply that their relationship was the only thing that got cut; I had a whole bunch of random character interaction scenes that got chopped due to wordcount/pacing constraints, as they did absolutely nothing for the plot itself. But I do think it was one of the main casualties of the editing process, and in hindsight I wish I’d dug my heels in a bit to keep some of that representation on the page. It’s one of the reasons I made it very explicitly clear that the pair of them are a couple in the short stories.

But, ultimately, this was the story of Cat and her adventures destroying an authoritarian government, which we will be going full steam ahead on tomorrow. See you then!

#TellusReadAlong

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nymfaia · 1 year

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Alphinaud and Alisaie had both taken a backpack from Alta, more than happy to carry their load the rest of the way if it meant their friend could rest - something that the Warrior of Light wanted, desperately, to protest. And would have protested, if she hadn’t put a hunk of crusty bread in her mouth, mug full of steaming soup in her other hand. She had scarcely chewed and swallowed the bite by the time Jullus saw them off, his expression full of mirth and victory as he sat down beside her.

“Rest,” he instructed. “And slow down, maybe.”

He tore off a similar chunk from his roll, stuffing it in his mouth, and had Alta patting his back moments later as he coughed. Perhaps the advice was more for him. Her tail thumped behind her, whipping at the small of his back: slow down, maybe.

“Do you know - … where to start?” Alta asked, cautiously taking a sip from her steaming mug. A pleased hum filled the space between them as she drank. As it tended to go, the Warrior of Light scarcely realized she was hungry until food was given to her, and it had only been recently that food had sounded appetizing at all. Now, the vegetable-heavy soup smelled - and tasted - as good as anything else she had eaten, the bread roll slightly stale but revived once wetted by the stew’s broth.

“There ought to be someone here,” Jullus replied. “And if not here, then - … at the outpost. We can each take a side and ask about, I suppose.”

Alta swung her legs, her feet scarcely grazing the ground beneath the bench, and let out another hum of acknowledgement. They ate in quiet, watching as civilians came and went, gathering their own rations and trading gossip with one another. The small woman had leaned back, the mug held to her lips as she attempted to drain it of it’s last drops when the Garlean beside her spoke once again. It was not for her, she knew, his tone far different than what he had just used with her, reserved and careful.

“May we help you, ma’am?”

“Oh, honey, you’re Camilla’s boy, aren’t you? I remember you.”

Jullus was still. A pit formed in his stomach, as if he were staring off the edge of a cliff or one of his tempered comrades - but it was simply an elderly Hyuran woman, her expression warm and friendly. Something in her mannerisms rang familiar, her gray hair in a tight bun and her pale hands folded ahead of her.

How long had it been since someone had spoken his mother’s name? He swallowed, nodding dumbly at her as he took the final swig from his own mug of soup.

“Now, are you the record keeper or the soldier?”

“-- soldier, ma’am.”

“Ah, yes. Jullus. How is your mother? Last I saw of her, she had come to our office for your baby sister - Cassie, was it?”

Alta watched, her tail stilling, as Jullus seemed to sag. No longer did the amusement of their circumstances or their shared meal seem to raise his spirits; now he simply seemed tired, eyes dull and lips set in a straight line.

“Cassia, yes. They’re - …they’re doing fine.”

They were decidedly not fine. Nothing in how he spoke or held himself carried the weight of his words, hollow and false, but the woman seemed to take the platitude at face value. Jullus felt Alta shift beside him, her thigh and shoulder brushing into his, a sentiment spoken without a word.

“Why - … did you retrieve this from the obstetricus?”

Jullus straightened. He drew in a deep breath, as if clearing his mind of the cobwebs that memories caused, and - all at once - he was who he had been when she first met him. It was as if he were pushing himself aside, allowing a facade to appear in his place.

Alta didn’t hear how he responded. She was too caught up in seeing herself in him, how easily he packed away how he felt in order to be what others needed him to be. It caused a lump in her throat. She had been compartmentalizing the memories of her family for decades and had done so well in the endeavor that she could scarcely remember them at all - … as if the memories didn’t even exist.

She didn’t want that for him, she thought. She wished she hadn’t, that - maybe - she had let herself deal with the ache of mourning long enough to come to terms with her losses. But no one had taught her how to grieve, how to put aside the images of their deaths and decaying corpses and still remember how her mother and father looked and laughed.

No. Jullus didn’t deserve to forget who he loved.

“-- Alta?”

The warmth of the body beside her had disappeared. She jerked her head, meeting Jullus’ gaze from halfway down the subway, where he tilted his head, motioning her to follow. The machine was pulled along behind the old woman, wheels squeaking on their journey as they went.

She jumped to her feet, their mugs forgotten as she jogged to catch up with both of them.

“She worked at the clinic we - we visited,” Jullus spoke, watching Alta’s expression shift into curiosity as he wrangled the cord from the cart. He crouched down, pushing the prongs into a metallic plate on the subway wall, the cord just long enough that the cart was able to enter a half-empty train car. “She retired after Cassia, but - she should be able to help us.”

“-- But Nerva –”

“We should make sure it works,” he explained, “before we drag it all the way out there.”

Alta stared, torn between bewilderment and horror, gaze bouncing between man and machine. The old woman flipped a switch; the little screen flickered to life, announcing itself with a tinny beep.

“Excellent! It looks like we’re in business, boy. What did you say her name was?”

“Alta.” Jullus pinned her with a look that told her there would be no escaping the trial before her. He held out his hand as he stepped onto the train car, pulling the little woman in alongside him, before pulling the door halfway shut - and stepping back outside.

“Alta. That’s lovely, honey. Take your coat off and we’ll take a look.”

“I - … I don’t –...”

She felt her heart leap into her throat. She fumbled with the buttons of her coat, watching with no small amount of annoyance - and anxiety - as Jullus stood against the doorway, acting both as a shield and a second form of privacy. She could scarcely curse the back of her head, she thought, saving her nasty thoughts for when she next was alone with him.

“Is it your first?”

“Yes.”

“Oh! That explains it. Not to worry, dear. It’s simple,” the woman promised. Alta folded her coat on the far seat, before taking her own nearest the machine. “Lay down, if you will - and pull your shirt up. I’ll apply pressure, but nothing more. It won’t hurt.”

She eyed the machine as if she barely believed the woman. She took one final look at the soldier at the door, acting as if he heard little and less, before easing herself down on the bench seating. They had already stretched the cord as far as it would go - she had to lay at the furthest edge, closest to the doors, her feet firmly on the ground in the entryway.

Alta kicked the back of Jullus’ boot. It was the least she could do for what he volunteered her for.

She heard the tiny machine beep once, and then again, before the woman pulled a wand from a holster on the side. She scarcely had time to steel herself before it pressed into her flesh, the cold metal making her flinch with surprise.

Alta opened her mouth, gaze flitting from the ceiling of the car to the green-tinted screen, almost allowing a question to tumble from her mouth. Then the woman turned a knob, and the fuzzy sound of static filled the space.

“Give me a moment. I’ve not done one of these on a foreigner in a while,” the woman said, concentration causing her to mumble. “Is the father Garlean?”

“-- Yes?”

“Ah.” The wand pressed into her skin at another angle, still as cold as it was the first time. A sound like a muffled airship’s blades came from the machine, a back-and-forth sort of noise that had Alta furrow her brow as she stared at the tiny blob on the screen.

“--There you go, honey. Mayhaps he was wrong in his estimation,” she said. “Jullus said you thought three months, is that right?”

Alta was silent, staring at the machine, the woosh-woosh mimicking the rise and fall of the weirdly shaped being’s body.

It was there. She had taken it to the end of the world and back and it was there. The Sharlayans were right, all those weeks ago, and now - now - it flexed and shifted, warm and comfortable in a home she didn’t know they could exist in.

She scarcely noticed as the Hyur reached out to get Jullus’s attention, or that he stepped back into the train car. The medicus pressed another button, two glossy white squares being spat out of the machine, and then -

The silence that followed made Alta feel as if she were very, very small. The quiet whispered at her, igniting a sense of urgency under her skin, elated and fearful: she would have to tell Gaius. There was no way around it now.

“Alta.”

Jullus was holding her coat for her. She staggered to her feet, numb and cold, as she continued to speak, pulling her arms through her sleeves.

“You’re closer to sixteen weeks, not twelve,” the woman explained. “They’re measuring small, but - all races carry differently. Especially if the father isn’t very large himself.”

She patted Jullus’s shoulder, looking at the man as if she were trying to recall something.

“I think Camilla carried the same - not to worry, boy. You’ve a year or two to finish growing, too. The heartbeat was strong. Give the films a few minutes to clear - they’re always quite slow in the cold.”

Jullus looked from the woman to the photographs in his hand, his face turning a shade of red as he struggled to find the words to say.

“Thank you,” he finally said, putting the films in his pocket. “We have another in camp. Do you think you could see them this evening, too?"

"Oh, of course. I've not gotten to do this in years," she replied. "I retired right after Emperor Solus fell, and thought I wouldn't quite make it through what followed, you understand. To be able to see the next sons of Garlemald after it all is quite exciting."

"...sons?"

Alta's voice was small. The Hyur nodded at her, gaze flickering from the Au Ra to the young man beside her. It was not the first time she would have to repeat herself to someone in shock - and she doubted it would be the last, if the next patient was anything like the woman ahead of her.

"Yes, dear. You're having a boy. Now, Jullus - you make sure she stays fed and doesn't work too hard…"

Alta tuned out the medicus. It wasn't until Jullus had helped her out of the car, walking in silence up the stairs of the station, until he pulled her hood up and squeezed her shoulder that she realized she hadn't thanked the woman an onze.

"So - … what's next for you?"

Alta kept her gaze straight, the physical and mental excursions of the day beginning to take their toll. She wanted to return to Broken Glass and rest, to mull over her thoughts and her discovery - … but she knew herself.

"I think… I'm leaving. For Terncliff," she spoke slowly. "I - … have to go. Or I never will."

"Will you be returning?"

Would she? She didn't know. The medics in Sharlay had told her not to use aetherytes, as one couldn't expect a forming baby to focus on a location it scarcely knew existed. It would be weeks, if not more, before she returned.

But her return was secondary to her leaving, and she already knew she wanted to be on the road before nightfall.

"Maybe," she said quietly. "If - … the news is not welcome. – will you tell me if – … Nerva is okay?"

"Are you not staying?" He asked. “Not even the night?”

"No," Alta replied. "I- … I've avoided the truth this long, and - … it's getting hard. To ignore. He deserves to know, if - … just to know."

Jullus let out a long breath, peering up at the sky as they walked. "So be it. Alphinaud gave me one of his spare earrings – linkpearl, they call it? I'll call you once we have news to share."

She slid her hands into her coat pockets, the sound of their heartbeat already etched in her mind: woosh-woosh.

"And should you need a place to return to," Jullus promised, "I am certain Nerva would appreciate the company."

Alta's tail flicked back and forth. Their bootprints in the snow came closer as she bumped her shoulder into his elbow, a half-hearted stand-in for rubbing her horns against his cheek.

"... thank you," Alta said softly. They had come to help Garlemald, she thought; slowly, the spring was thawing into summer, the survivors picking themselves up from the wreckage. But had she helped them?

Had they truly needed it in the first place?

The aetheryte in the middle of camp caught the sun, glittering not too far in the distance. Her shoulder brushed him once more, absently this time, before Jullus spoke up beside her.

“Take your dinner rations with you. For the road. And safe travels.” No, she thought. They hadn’t needed it. She had.

#fandom: ffxiv.#rating: t.#word count: 2k+.#did it again. i've written like 6k in the past few days wtf #eventually i just... have to write the pre e.w stuff and i can bundle it into a chapter fic on a.o3 #anyway #pregnancy tw #food tw #medical procedures tw

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thephaedronachronicles · 1 year

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50 Good Questions with an Okay Author: Q. Alexander

1. What literary pilgrimages have you gone on?

“I personally have never gone on a trip specifically for the sake of writing, not to say I haven’t thought of doing so. It just hasn’t happened yet.”

2. What is the first book that made you cry?

“A child called it. My 6th reading teacher read it to us or assigned it to us; I can’t remember which, but that book is so raw in its approach—very powerful and purposeful in it’s message.”

3. What is the most unethical practice in the publishing industry?

“Considering I’m self published I can’t really speak on their practices, but I can say that the whole thing gives me gatekeeper vibes; so maybe passing on potentially great authors.”

4. Does writing energize or exhaust you?

“It depends, I tend to manically write in month long spurts, then cool off. It can be both invigorating as well as exhaustive.”

5. What are common traps for aspiring writers?

“Believing that a story needs to be completely original. It’s okay to find inspiration in other works, nothing is original, simply adjusted.”

6. Does a big ego help or hurt writers?

“Too much of anything is harmful, although I’m not one for humility.”

7. What is your writing Kryptonite?

“Finding articulate ways to illustrate what I see in my mind, a lot of the time I find myself fleshing out characters or storylines after I’ve written them because I sort of glossed over the general idea.”

8. Have you ever gotten reader’s block?

“Yes, usually when I’m writing. I’ve had a bookmark in ‘Salem’s Lot for the past two months because I’ve been full steam ahead with finishing Black Empress.”

9. Did you ever consider writing under a pseudonym?

“I currently write under a pseudonym.”

10. Do you try more to be original or to deliver to readers what they want?

“More than anything I try to build characters that deal with exaggerated emotional circumstances that we all experience in our lives. In Nasir’s case, he’s a man in love who’s concerned with losing himself, I feel like that’s where his magic comes in. Physically he’s a god, but in his heart and his self doubt he shows that he’s just the same as us. Uncertain of what tomorrow holds.”

11. Do you think someone could be a writer if they don’t feel emotions strongly?

“I feel that emotion is a cornerstone of writing, sure you would be able to literally write, but I feel there is no power in words that don’t touch your heart.”

12. What other authors are you friends with, and how do they help you become a better writer?

“I don’t have many friends that are authors, but the few I do silently inspire me to sharpen my craft.”

13. Do you want each book to stand on its own, or are you trying to build a body of work with connections between each book?

“With the exception of my self-help book the vast majority of my works, published and unpublished are connected.”

14. If you could tell your younger writing self anything, what would it be?

“Continue to follow your dreams, this will come when it comes.”

15. How did publishing your first book change your process of writing?

“It allowed me to take myself seriously; I think it did the same for my peers as well. After publishing Lost King I was able to analyze my work as if it wasn’t my own, which allowed me to correct mistakes and apply new techniques.”

16. What was the best money you ever spent as a writer?

“My MacBook, I don’t think I’ve gone anywhere without it for longer than a day.”

17. What authors did you dislike at first but grew into?

“The first time I tried to read King I was turned off, his writing style is so in depth and idiosyncratic that I almost wasn’t able to understand what it was I was reading, now I’m utterly enthralled by his works.”

18. What did you do with your first advance? “Wished I had one.”

19. What was an early experience where you learned that language had power?

“I was driving in the car with my mother and little brother; we were going to my dads house and a group of white guys in a van pulled up next to us and proceeded to call us niggers, I was only twelve, maybe thirteen but I remember crying. I wanted to jump out of the car so bad, I think it was the first time in my life that I ever experienced helplessness.”

20. What are the most important magazines for writers to subscribe to?

“I have a staunch opinion that magazines are a dying medium, but if I had to pick I would say Ebony and Jet magazine, I’m also biased in my opinion.”

21. What’s your favorite under-appreciated novel? “Walk Two Moons.”

22. How do you balance making demands on the reader with taking care of the reader?

“I usually intend for the reader to go through an emotional journey along with the characters, as far as rewarding them, we’ll just have to see how the next couple books turn out.”

23. As a writer, what would you choose as your mascot/avatar/spirit animal?

“I’ve always been a butterfly, there’s something poetic about transformation, then beautiful death and butterflies have a habit of fluttering by when I’m being introspective and I find I have a lot of similar traits.”

24. What do you owe the real people upon whom you base your characters?

“The few characters I have based on people tend to be far more compelling to me. Camille, a secondary character that I molded after a girl I went to karate with, Beatrix Kiddo and Cammy from street fighter (her namesake) was intended to be a filler member of Alpha Sect. but the more I wrote about her the more I wanted to make them resemble the impact that that person had on my life. I ended up loving the character so much that I made her integral to the central storyline. Another character, Nacira, was based off a girl I had a brief crush on in high school. Nacira’s personality is more akin to Xena, but the quirky, fun parts of Nacira are based on her namesake.”

25. How many unpublished and half-finished books do you have?

“Within the Phaedrona series a solid five, outside of that canon I would say another six or seven.

26. What does literary success look like to you?

“Creation is literary success to me, whether my books garner fame before or after my passing is irrelevant, the magic for me was creating them and bringing them into corporeal form.”

27. What’s the best way to market your books? “Write them well, the rest will follow.”

28. What kind of research do you do, and how long do you spend researching before beginning a book?

“I did a considerable amount of research for TPC, in all I would say a solid three months looking into physics and theoretical physics, specifically when it came to Black Empress, as this one has a more sci-fi/ space setting as opposed to Lost King that always felt more mystical/occult.”

29. Do you view writing as a kind of spiritual practice?

“It can be, depending on what’s being written at the moment. But do I look for spiritual release or stimulation when writing? No.”

30. What’s the most difficult thing about writing characters from the opposite sex?

“Making them vulnerable, I’ve been raised by and have known strong women my entire life. Making them anything other than utter bad assets is hard for me.”

31. How long were you a part-time writer before you became a full-time one?

“I’m still currently a part time writer, even though I write every day. My bills are just a bit too big for my revenue from writing to cover, but then again I have a taste for the opulent.”

32. How many hours a day do you write?

“As I said earlier, I’m pretty manic when I write. Some days I won’t write at all, and others I’ll write all day. But at the same time I’m constantly creating storylines or ideas within my mind.”

33. What period of your life do you find you write about most often? (child, teenager, young adult)

“Definitely young adult, considering that’s the phase of my life that I’m exiting, I’d like to write a story similar to my childhood but I’m pretty sure I’d be cancelled if I wrote about the things us 90’s kids actually did when our parents weren’t around.”

34. What did you edit out of this book?

“Originally TLK was about Nasir, Alexius, Samir and Aiden being poised against each other by Amara, this didn’t work with my final vision but a part of that storyline remains in Samir and Aidens relationship.”

35. Have you read anything that made you think differently about fiction?

“I can’t really say yes or no to that, that’s n excellent question that I don’t have an answer for.”

36. What are the ethics of writing about historical figures?

“Maintaining a respectable amount of honesty; I think that matters more than whether they’re depicted as good or bad.”

37. How do you select the names of your characters?

“Some are based on mystical deities and others tend to be names that I’ve heard and been fond of.”

38. If you didn’t write, what would you do for work?

“I’d do porn.”

39. Do you read your book reviews? How do you deal with bad or good ones?

“I live for book reviews, I love the thought of someone feeling so moved, whether good or bad, to write about how the book made them feel.”

40. Do you hide any secrets in your books that only a few people will find?

“Certainly.”

41. What was your hardest scene to write?

“My hardest scene to write in TLK was the final fight between Nasir, Ahmry and Kasraja. It was hard for me to find a way to make Kasraja feel properly evil, and I still sort of feel that his goal was righteous in the eyes of the Aranaki, so I guess the issue was I didn’t make him evil enough. In the Black Empress the hardest scenes for me to write were the deaths.”

42. Do you Google yourself?

“I did even before I was a writer.”

43. Whats one thing would you give up to become a better writer?

“I don’t know, I like to keep things, giving things up is not something I’m very good at.”

44. What are your favorite literary journals?

“I actually don’t read a lot on literature, I tend to read more about science and the occult.”

45. What is your favorite childhood book?

“Tears of a Tiger.”

46. What is the most difficult part of your artistic process?

“Keeping my ideas in check, Black Empress was supposed to be massive, but I eventually had to split the story into two parts because what I had planned would’ve been exhaustive in my opinion.”

47. Does your family support your career as a writer?

“I’ve been blessed with a family that has wholeheartedly supported all of my creative endeavors.”

48. If you had to do something differently as a child or teenager to become a better writer as an adult, what would you do?

“Go to college immediately after highschool and study literary arts.”

49. How long on average does it take you to write a book?

“We’ll have to see, TLK took me a little over 10 years, Lies You Should Tell Yourself took me 8 hours, while Black Empress only took me about a year.”

50. Do you believe in writer’s block?

“Not anymore, I prefer to call it burnout. I just let myself reset for a day or two then jump back in.”

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lys1 · 3 years

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This is an Asra x fem!reader. NSFW for sure, porn WITH plot <3 this is my first post on tumblr so feedback appreciated.

——————

You walk through the dusty streets of the Market towards the palace. Hundreds of stalls loom up on either side, alive and vibrant with colors, smells, and tastes. It feels good to be back in the heart of Vesuvia.

You turn to look at Asra beside you, keeping your exhausted pace. It had been 8 days since Nadia had asked Asra and yourself to go check out some mysterious magic happenings on the outskirts of the city. You scoff to yourself, mysterious indeed, it took half the time to even track down the little pixie creatures causing ruckus and mayhem. Eventually, after some exhaustive spell casting and careful teamwork the two of you had managed to return the troublesome pixies to the proper magic realm they escaped from.

You yawn tiredly, loosening the emerald colored traveling scarf from around your neck. It was afternoon now, and the sun was beating down.

"Almost there now," Asra spoke up, breaking the silence. He looked fondly over at you, a smile lighting up his sun kissed face. Even so, you could see that the time away from home had taken its toll on him too. You were both more than ready to hit the hay.

You nod slightly, keeping back another yawn. "I hope Nadia has food for us, I'm starved." The villagers in the towns you had visited were kind and generous, but nothing could beat the delectable food that the palace prepared.

Asra chuckled, "I'm sure that right after we fill her in on the successful pixie management she'll immediately be tending to us like a mother hen. You know how she is, she loves to provide." He pushed back his curls from his face to wipe his brow of sweat, smiling as he too imagined the delicious array of food that was about to be offered. He picked up his pace at the thought, making you jog a bit to keep up.

The Palace gates soon loomed over the two of you, sparkling and gold in the summer sun. The guards at the gate looked up as you approached.

"Ah, the magicians! I trust everything went alright?" One asked, clearly recognizing the famous duo. He smiled warmly, maybe a little starstruck.

Asra returned his smile, "it was simply magical."

You rolled your eyes at the terribly overused pun as the guard gave a hearty laugh. The two of you were waved in and informed that the countess was waiting for you in the dining room.

"Oh even better," you groaned in appreciation. "We get to eat while we talk. I love Nadia." Your stomach growls in agreement. Asra flashes you a beautiful smile as his feet climb the stairs alongside yours.

"And clearly," he adds, "she loves us back!" He was particularly looking forward to some blue tongued skink, Nadia knew it was his favorite.

It only took a couple minutes to reach the dining hall. One of the servers was bustling out the moment You and Asra rounded the corner to the door.

"Oh, hello!" They said, giving a small polite now. "The countess is expecting you! Please, come right in." They moved aside, holding the large ornate door open with one of their hands.

You wink and whisper your thanks as the two of you make your way in. Immediately your mouth fills with saliva at the smell that filled the room. The table was large and being filled with platters of many foods of different origins. The gold dinnerware twinkled delightedly up at you and the red wine glimmered deep and inviting.

"Welcome, friends." Nadia opens her arms, rising from her chair. She had just been sipping on some pre-dinner tea while waiting for her guests. She was smiling, and looking absolutely magnificent in her shining purple and gold robes.

"Hello Nadi," Asra said, joining you and her in a quick hug before seating himself at the table. You follow, sitting beside him as Nadia resumes her seat. The servants bring the last platter of steaming dumplings out at that moment.

You sigh contentedly. "This looks amazing Nadia, I feel spoiled."

Nadia smiles, the faintest blush on her high cheeks. "Anything for my favorite magicians, willing to travel far and wide in aid of Vesuvians in need." She adores, raising her wine glass. "To my dear friends, what I would do without you, I wouldn't know."

You and Asra raise your glasses with her, each of your own cheeks now a healthy pink. Nadia declares the meal to begin and you all dig in.

"Oh my, what troublemakers!" Nadia declares, after hearing the story about the pixies. The food was being relished amongst every plate and the wine was flowing steadily. "I can't believe such tricky little creatures exists." She continues, eyes sparkling as she pours another cup of wine.

"Yes, well, the magic world is something else entirely." Asra laughs, relaxed and feeling full. He was lounging comfortably, one hand gripping your thigh, another holding his gold goblet. His skin was warm and aglow.

You had your own hand comfortably nestled in his snowy white locks, massaging slow circles into his scalp. It had been a long 8 days and you were both happy to finally be able to relax into each other while having pleasant conversation.

"You should have seen the way they caused mischief," you add. “Oh I felt terrible for that village. So many upside down cows to turn over." Asra smiles as you tell the story, closing his eyes and leaning into your gentle touch. It was, to put it simply, the best feeling he could imagine. Well, almost.

Nadia chuckles again. "Well, I'm just glad that they are gone and we can laugh about this." She says, sighing in slight relief. "Vesuvia is fortunate to have two talented magicians like yourself. I am fortunate to have you as my friends. Your well deserved payment is in your guest room."

Asra blinks, "oh, you're offering us a place to stay tonight?" He asked, the gratefulness clear in his tone. You couldn't help but agree, walking back to the shop did not really sound like something either of you wanted to do. Especially, you muse, lifting your glass to your lips, after how many wine jugs the three of you had emptied.

"Why of course," Nadia looks surprised that we even had to ask. "And," she continued, "use of my personal bath this evening. You two more than deserve some relaxation and.. fun." She ends her sentence after a slight pause, giving you both a side glance full of humor.

You feel your cheeks go slightly hotter at the obvious suggestion. However, embarrassment aside, nothing else sounded better right now. You look down at your lover who was now lounging against your lap and smile. Oh how far too long it had been, the pixies had been relentless and had not offered much down time.

Asra chuckles, clearly more comfortable with the suggestion. He always had been a bit more confident when it came to discussing your private life. You found it quite endearing.

"Oh Nadi," he smiles. "You just made this evening even better somehow. I can't wait to take my love there and-"

Nadia waves her hand, laughing at your horrified face. "Please, please, I certainly don't need to know details." She grins, "just go, and take the wine."

Asra didn't need more encouragement and sat up promptly. He looks down at you, a shadow of hunger in his lilac eyes, offering you his hand. You take it, biting your lip as his gaze continues to rake over your body in the sort of way that makes you squirm.

"Thank you, Nadia." You say breathlessly, and a little sheepishly.

Nadia smiles, "anytime." She says, laughter still ringing in her voice. "Now go, before Asra here makes love to you on this table."

Your eyes open wide, shocked to hear her say such dirty words before ducking your head down in embarrassment.

Asra rests his hand on your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear, "you heard the lady." His voice is sultry and thick with want. "The table is looking awfully inviting right now."

Quickly, you turn and head out the door, Asra following close behind. The bath is not far down the hall and the two of you make great time. Asra's hand is at your waist, pressing in such a way that you know means desire. You hadn't realized how badly he had been missing you.

You make it to the door and turn to look back at your lover. You gulp at the hot scene behind you. Asra's eyes are half-lidded, purple irises cloudy with lust. His shirt is already half unbuttoned, revealing his delicious golden tan skin, smooth and beautiful. He's looking at you in a way that makes you think he hasn't eaten in a week and you are a five course meal.

He closes in, pushing you against the door and reaching for the handle. "You're terribly slow," he says, voice already rough, desire prominent. He pushes the handle and the latch clicks, the door swings in behind you.

The two of you tumble into the sweet smelling room. Obviously Nadia informed a servant ahead of time of the use of this room because the bath was already filled and steaming. On top of the water pink rose petals float, filling the area with a soft floral scent.

Asra closes the door with a soft click and looks over his shoulder at you. "Oh my dear," he murmurs, taking the couple strides to wrap you up in his strong arms. "I've missed hearing you cry my name, kissing those lips, and feeling your skin." His fingers travel up your waist and over your stomach. They linger, just a moment at the swell under your breast before finally cupping your face in his hands.

You tremble under his touch, body suddenly aching with need. You bring your own hands up to his chest and splay your fingers out so you can feel his heart beating. It's fast and erratic, excited to be close to you.

"Sweetheart," Asra whispers, voice heady. It's intoxicating to hear him talk to you in such a way. You look up at him and catch him licking his lips. You bring your own up to meet his, tongue out to capture his. He groans, melting into the kiss, gripping your hair so tightly it's almost painful.

You gasp, mouth opening and he runs his tongue along your lips, tasting the wine you both had shared. "Delicious," he says against your skin, tasting more and more. His hot open mouth kisses travel from your lips to your cheek, jaw, and finally resting on your neck. Asra loves to leave marks, and he takes your skin between his teeth intending to do exactly that.

Your moan comes out hoarse and you feel heat starting to pool between your legs. They feel shaky and weak, unable to withstand such torment.

Asra steadies you and pulls back briefly, cheeks flushed hot, want written all over his face. "We," he states, "are wearing far too many clothes for a bath."

You laugh and take his shirt in your hands. "I agree," you say, pulling at the remaining buttons. They come free easily and soon a glorious, shirtless Asra is standing before you. You drink in the sight unashamedly, totally enthralled with your lover. Gradually, though slowed by each other's groping hands, you both end up undressed.

Asra grabs your thighs and hoists you up onto his hips. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your breasts into his soft skin. He groans appreciatively, nuzzling his face into your chest breathing deeply, and walks the two of you over to the edge of the bath.

The water is still very warm as it licks your skin. You jump in surprise and moan slightly as it overtakes your aching folds and up over your ass. "Ahh-" you sigh, slumping into the crook of Asra's neck. "This is so good."

Asra hums his agreement before taking your chin between his fingers and directing you too look at him. His eyes are swimming with love, need, and an absolute desire to ravish you. You swallow hard, unable to look away.

"I want you." He says simply, barely above a whisper. He maneuvers your body so your back is against his chest. You lean your head back into him and relax in the fragrant water. Asra snakes his left arm around your waist and trails his fingers from your belly button downwards.

You bite back a squeal as his trained fingers circle the small nub at the top of your slit. He adds pressure, rubbing you in a manner that makes you crazy. Your hips wiggle back and you feel him, hard and straining, pressing into your ass. His breath hitches only for a second before he leans down to pepper soft kisses on your neck and shoulders.

His other hand makes it’s way up to your right breast and he expertly rolls your perked nipples between two fingers. Your whole body shudders in response to his actions.

“Ah, fuck Asra,” you choke out, moving your hips to meet his fingers as he slides them down your slick towards your now dripping hole. He wastes no time plunging two in, enjoying the feeling of your walls tightening around him.

Asra lifts his lips from your skin and brings his mouth to your ear. “You’re so ready for me, aren’t you. Pretty and wet for my fingers, aching to be filled.” He curls them as he says that, relishing in the soft gasps that fall from your trembling lips.

You groan as he licks the shell of your ear, hot breath teasing on the sensitive skin. “You,” your voice falters a second as Asra’s fingers continue to explore your insides in a way that makes you grip his strong thighs on either side of you. “You are ready for me too.” You finally gasp out, finding the strength to grind back against Asra’s swollen cock. You knew if you could see it, it would be an angry red and leaking precum, desperate to be buried to the hilt inside of you.

Asra’s breath comes out in a short gasp that makes you smirk in satisfaction. At least you still have a little control left. That thought flies out your brain a second later when Asra pinches your nipple hard then twists, making you cry out in painful pleasure.

“Watch yourself, my love.” He coos playfully, no remorse in his words. You grit your teeth, taking in the torture that both of his skilled hands are laying upon you. You know what he wants, and it is oh so tempting to give in. You’re almost at war with yourself as your back arches on its own accord in rapt pleasure.

“Oh please, please.” You finally break, body shaking. You reach your arms back and thread your fingers through Asra’s fluffy locks before gripping hard. “Asra please fuck me already.” You plead, unable to care anymore that you were begging.

You feel Asra’s fingers slow to a stop inside you and then remove themselves. You almost groan in disappointment but you know better.

Asra flips your body around so you’re straddling his hips. You gasp when suddenly you’re faced to face with your beautiful lover. He looks positively stunning, the soft moonlight coming in from the high windows bathing him in a pearlescent light. His skin is glowing with a cool sheen, and his breath is leaving parted lips shallowly. Not to mention, his hard cock straining against your stomach, just begging for attention.

You bring your hand down and rest your index finger lightly on the slit. Asra shudders at the touch, but certainly not complaining. He’s slick, just as you expected, and you lightly circle his tip.

“You go on and on about how ready I am.” You tease, “but look at you, practically cumming into my hand already.” You lift your fingers and bring them to your mouth, tasting his salty sweetness. Asra’s diet is rich with fruit and vitamins, and oh how you loved how he tasted as a result.

Watching you lick your fingers coyly has Asra’s eyes drooping with lust. “My dear, oh my love,” he whispers. “How I am going to fuck you until I fill you with that cum you love so much. Because it’s true, you love it don’t you.” He says, voice sugar sweet, expecting an answer.

You blush, despite your best efforts. You look at him, but he only blinks in return, waiting.

“Yes,” you whisper, voice thicker with need than you realized. You give up trying to be bashful. “Yes, yes. I love your cum, how it tastes, how it feels when you fill me up. I want it so bad.” You beg, looping your arms around his neck so your lips are just inches apart. “You have my heart, soul, and body.” The words tumble out naturally, “and gods, do I need you now.”

Asra bites your bottom lip harshly before fully overtaking your mouth with his. He’s moaning, almost desperately, into you. “I love you, my dearest one.” He pants, gripping your ass with his hands. You feel your hips being lifted up and your body quakes knowing what’s coming.

You feel the tip of Asra on the heat of your slit and you sigh deeply, “I love you too, Asra.” You say, bending your neck so your head rests on his muscular shoulder. Your lips find a sweet spot on his neck, an anchor, as he lowers you down onto him. It’s tantalizingly slow, allowing you to feel every inch as you sink lower in the water until he’s fully sheathed in you.

“Oh gods,” Asra groans, both from feeling you pulse around him and from your playful lips on his neck. “You are a gift to me.” He says, breathless from the feelings.

You smile, in delight from your lovers sweet words. Slowly and carefully you lift your hips up, at the same time dragging your tongue up his smooth neck to his ear. You suck and nibble on the lobe as you find your rhythm, bouncing steadily on the thick shaft. He feels absolutely amazing in you, filling you perfectly.

Asra grips your butt underwater with his strong hands and leans his head to the side, giving you better access. He guides your hips to a steady pace, humming appreciatively when you comply. “It has been far too long since I’ve felt your sweet pussy squeezing me like this.” He says, without skipping a beat.

You don’t have time to blush before he picks up the pace, leaving you moaning loudly into his ear as he hits the spot that makes you crazy. “Ah fuck, I agree, I do agree.” You manage, finally finding the words.

The water sloshes around your two bodies, stirring the rosy scent into the air. It’s smells amazing and makes you dizzy with pleasure as every sense seems to be met. Asra huffs gently next to your ear, holding you tightly against his body.

You savor the feelings of your chests sliding against each other, the feeling sleek from the warm water and sweat mixing. Your hips meet his, snapping against each other with quick splashes, making you see stars as he hits every time the spot that has you go wild.

The muscles in your lower stomach tighten and you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re screaming Asra’s name for the whole palace to hear. “Baby,” you say breathlessly, kissing any skin you can reach. His cheek, the corner of his eye, his plump lips. “I’m going to cum.” You whisper into his mouth. He swallows your delicious words and licks your lips in response.

“I love when you do that,” he says, a slight chuckle in his words. He wraps his arms tightly around your middles before bringing his hands up to your shoulder blades and raking his nails down your spine. You shudder at the erotic feeling and arch your back against his hands. He sighs happily when you give him access to this gorgeous view, stretched out before him, stomach and tits shining gloriously in front of him. He puts his mouth on your bellybutton and licks up to the cavity between your breasts.

“Oh mmm,” he hums, pleased with the sweet taste of your skin. “You are a delicacy amongst gods.”

You flush looking down at his lustful face, sucking on your skin, leaving marks where only he will see. He latches on to one of your nipples, moaning in immense pleasure at the feel of it in his mouth. When he nips at the sensitive skin you jolt, a small disruption in the steady bounce of your bodies.

“Damn,” you curse, words choking in your throat. Your nails dig into Asra’s shoulders as he re-establishes the torturing rhythm that has you shaking desperately against him.

“Let go for me,” he suggests in a sultry whisper that has you reeling with a feverish desire. The pressure in your core is building at an alarming rate as Asra thrusts into you, filling you every time to the point where you can barely hang on.

“I-“ you falter, eyes rolling as you feel that familiar tingle across all your limbs. Oh gods, you can’t stop it now. “Asra, oh fuck, ASRA-!” You scream head thrown back. Your walls clench, and the knot comes undone. It’s amazing, you almost want to laugh in pleasure at the feeling of coming around Asra’s cock. It’s so good you almost forget to breath.

Asra curses under his own breath as he fucks you through your high, barely holding on himself. You bring your head back down and kiss him deeply, tongue joining his. It’s a short lived battle to hang on and in a flurry of short gasps you feel him cumming inside you, unable to stop himself from the uncontrollable waves of pleasure that come from your hot walls clenching around him.

You both continue to kiss each other lovingly, slowing down gradually until you’re sitting on his lap. Eventually, you pull away a couple of inches, looking into your beloved’s eyes.

“Hello,” you say, smiling at your favorite magician. Asra’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, looking at you through hazy eyes. He kisses you again, gently, pleasantly.

“Hello,” he returns, after a minute. He runs his hands up your back, massaging as he goes. “You,” he adds lovingly, “are so beautiful.”

You smile adoringly. “Thank you, Asra.” You remove yourself from his lap and wade through the water towards the collection of bottles on the wooden shelf nearby. You grab a few that you felt suited the two of you best and turned to your lover. Asra had lifted his arms to rest on the sides of the bath and was looking at you with admiration.

“May I wash your hair?” You ask setting down the bottles, but keeping a lilac scented shampoo for Asra. He smiled at you, his face soft and kind.

“That would be amazing, my love.” He said, leaning his head back into the water to dampen it. You squeezed some of the lovely smelling shampoo into your hand and waited. Asra emerged a moment later and kissed you adoringly on the nose.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “For always taking care of me.”

You kissed him back, a peck, before turning him so his back was facing you. You rub your hands into a lather before working them into Asra’s soft hair.

“I always will, forever.” You say softly, happier than ever.

#asra alnazar #asra x reader #the arcana #arcana smut #asra smut #asra lemon #lemons #asra is so hot #I love him #lys writes

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lin-nin · 3 years

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Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 13

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it? Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer: Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

Chapter 13: Until My Heart Stops Beating

< | Previous Chapter

The rest of the day prior to your wedding was spent in partial tension. You never found out what the favor Techno had called for was exactly, but you didn’t mind. Truthfully, you were increasingly more focused on your wedding. It was exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time, and you practically had to force yourself to sleep that night. You awoke far earlier than normal because of it, moving around your room anxiously.

You eventually lowered yourself into your bath, taking care to make sure you were clean. You let the steam from the water curl around you, sighing and trying your best to relax. Thinking about today caused your stomach to erupt in butterflies and a smile to spread across your face. You truly hoped today went well. Eventually you stood up, stepping out of the tub and sliding into a shift.

There was a soft knock on your door after a few moments of you just sitting, and you called whoever it was in. Eret slid into the room, offering you a smile. A bundle of white fabric sat in his arms, and a few servants followed behind him with various things. “Good morning to our bride,” He practically cooed, motioning towards a servant to the table between chairs. She followed, setting down a tray where he pointed. She hurriedly bowed, leaving the room soon after. You watched Eret settle the fabric onto your bed, the remaining servants following in setting down boxes of other stuff. He sent them off, before turning to you.

“Morning Eret,” You murmured, returning his earlier smile. He seemed content, motioning towards the tray of food.

“Go ahead and eat, we’ll start with your hair. Are you nervous?” You reached for the cup of tea, bringing it to your lips and adjusting yourself so Eret had access to your hair.

“Very. Also excited, but I imagine it’s to be expected,” You managed to explain, letting Eret run a brush through your hair. You took your time with the food, enjoying the way Eret tended to your appearance. You didn’t normally allow yourself to get pampered like this, so you wouldn’t mind doing it this once.

“I imagine so. It’ll all go fine, though. It’ll probably go by better than you expect.” He made sure your hair was laying perfectly, humming under his breath as he did.

“Hopefully it goes smoothly, I do have some concerns though,” You sighed out the words, thinking about Dream. You hoped he would behave, truly. You would be extremely upset if he didn’t.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Eret reassured. You watched him move towards the fabric on the bed, peering at the lace he picked up. The veil. Your stomach erupted into nervous butterflies at the sight of it, examining delicate lace as he brought it over. The edges were thorned vines, leaves of white lace lying beneath light blue ribbon roses. You marveled it as he brought it close, unable to help your smile.

“You really outdid yourself,” You couldn’t stop the praise from leaving your mouth, reaching out to run your fingers along it.

“Just wait until you see the full dress. Turn your head.” You did as he instructed, turning away from him so he could start setting the pins of the veil into your hair. The lace tickled your shoulders, but you did your best to keep still. He softly grasped your shoulders once he was finished, giving them a squeeze. You turned to look at him, and he smiled at you. He disappeared to the bed once more, rustling through the boxes and bringing one over. You peered into it curiously, eyeing the roses inside. They were fresh, white ones from the garden. You laughed softly, turning to face him so he could situate them in your hair.

Eret lined them up along the edge of your veil, making sure they sat perfectly in your hair. The pins would be a pain to take out later tonight, but you didn’t entirely mind it right now. “Are you finished eating?” He questioned once he finished, moving to grab another box before you replied. You nodded when he returned, watching him pull out kohl from the box.

You instinctively closed your eyes, letting him line them with the makeup without question. He softly murmured when you were good to open them. He took his time applying a stain to your cheeks and lips, stepping back to examine his work. He sighed softly, smiling at you. “You’re going to be a vision,” He murmured, making your cheeks flush.

“You think so?” You questioned, acutely aware of the fluttering of your stomach.

“I know so. Come on, let’s get you in your dress.” He motioned you to stand up, and you did so on shaking legs. The anxiety regarding your marriage was starting to leak through now, and you couldn’t hide it. Eret offered you a reassuring look, sorting through the bundles of fabric settled on your bed. He grabbed one of sections of fabric, holding it out to you. You examined it, easily identifying the petticoat and slipping it on over your shift.

Next he moved towards you, holding out another section of fabric. The actual dress. The sleeves were made of tulle, a light blue in color, flaring out away from ribbon roses at the elbows made to match the ones on your veil. The base of the dress was simple. White, with a deep scooping neckline. He helped guide it over your head, situating it around your shift. You couldn’t help but watch as he adjusted the tulle on the skirt. Ribbon Roses decorated the scalloped edges of the tulle, exposing the white skirt beneath.

The stay was next, matching the dress with the white fabric embroidered delicately with blue roses. Eret’s brows were furrowed as he meticulously tightened the ribbons on it, making sure it sat perfectly. Once he had, he stepped back to examine you with a soft sigh. You flushed a little beneath the appraising gaze. He moved around again, grabbing a simple pair of shoes and stooping to slide them onto your feet. Moving in the dress almost felt weird, despite it not being too different in make than your most formal dresses. Perhaps it felt heavy with the meaning.

“One last touch,” Eret said, moving towards the final box on the bed. You had given him the earrings Techno gave you, as well as the necklace from Dream, for him to keep a hold of until today. You knew that was what sat within the box, watching him gingerly pick up the necklace to drape it around your neck. He tilted your head, sliding in the earrings and stepping back to give you a full look over.

“Oh, you’re gonna be the envy of so many,” He praised, and you shifted almost self consciously. The fact that you were wearing this dress caused you to fidget nervously.

“It doesn’t feel real,” You murmured, shifting around to search out the mirror you had. The rustling of your skirts felt loud in your ears, eyes roving over your appearance. It felt like something from a book, something so etherally unreal.

“It is, I promise. I’ll go get your brother,” He whispered, stepping towards the door. You watched him, before turning your eyes back to your reflection. What would today hold for you? The ceremony was straight forward, but the celebration itself felt so unsure. Anything could happen.

A soft knock resounded at your door, causing you to turn once more. George pushed open the door, carefully shutting it behind him. He stared at you for several long moments, seeming at a loss for words. It was probably weird, seeing you about to be married.

“It’s so hard to believe you’re my baby sister,” He practically echoed your thoughts, walking towards you. You laughed softly, nodding along.

“I guess I’m really not a baby anymore, am I?” You questioned, watching as he placed his hands on your shoulders. You leaned ever so slightly into the touch, a smile tugging your lips.

“No. Are you sure you still want this?” He watched you closely, looking for any change in your expression.

“Of course. Techno is kind, and his family is enjoyable. I have easily found friends here, and I know I can just as easily make a happy life. I will always miss you and Dream, but we’ll all move on.” You gently grabbed one of his hands, squeezing it tightly. George smiled, seeming almost sad.

“The castle won’t ever be the same. You’ve grown up so much.” He returned the squeeze, and you could only nod. You did yearn for the ease you felt of your teenage years in the castle. The lack of responsibilities you had felt, being able to run around and goof off with Dream. However you felt more freedom now than you had there. It was a new feeling, but a welcome one.

“I’ll miss some parts of it, but I’m excited for my future here. Everyone is so kind,” You constantly reassured him, letting him move you away from the mirror.

“Eret said he was going to check on Technoblade, but he’d tell us when everything was ready. Are you ready for this?” He settled into one of the chairs, pulling you into the one beside him.

“As ready as I can be. I’m nervous. There’s a lot happening today,” You folded your hands in your lap, legs bouncing.

“I can imagine. You put a lot of work into planning this, didn’t you?” You sat up straight, having problems trying to relax. The nerves were unbearable.

“Sort of, I just had input. Eret handled a lot of the main plans. Him, Wilbur, and Nihachu deserve more credit than I do.” You could hardly take any of the responsibility. You didn’t put in much actual work, just feedback.

“Still, it’s not everyday you get married. Everything will go fine,” George reassured, giving you a smile. Truly, you didn’t know what you would do without him. Probably fall apart, you imagined. The two of you chattered softly as you waited, George attempting to keep your nerves soothed. It wasn’t too long before there was a knock at the door, Eret popping his head in.

“Everything’s ready now. Are you ready?” His voice was gentle, and you offered a soft smile.

“As ready as I can be,” You sighed, standing up. George followed, lingering right beside you.

“You know where to go, right? I’ll go ahead and wait there, give the two of you a few more moments,” Eret spoke softly, as if anything louder would break the calmness. You appreciated it, whispering your thanks as he left. George turned to you, taking your hands in his.

“The wedding will go wonderfully, I know it. Mom and Dad send their best wishes. It’s hard to believe my baby sister is all grown up and getting married now.” The way he spoke and squeezed your hands had tears springing to your eyes. They threatened to spill as he pulled you in for a hug, kissing your forehead. You carefully laid your head against his shoulder, clinging to him.

“I’m really going to miss our garden walks,” you whispered, and he nodded.

“I will too. Don’t keep them waiting, though. I don’t want your husband to come looking for you.” George finally pulled away from you, leading you towards the door to your room. You followed, taking a deep breath. Silence lapsed between the pair of you as you wandered down the hallway and stairs. You were led through the courtyard, towards the garden. Nerves pooled in your stomach, and you hoped it didn’t show.

George gripped your hand in reassurance, walking with you down the path. Eyes were on you, and you were very aware of it. Among those eyes, though, were Techno’s. At the other end of the aisle. Hands folded in front of him, a pale cape fastened around his shoulders. A blue sash was tied around his waist, similar in color to the blue accents on your dress. The emerald rose brooch sat against the stark white of his shirt, clearly visible from the other end. The black prongs of his crown stood tall, a heavy contrast to the pink locks fanned around it. His braid was ornamented with gold chains, jewels interspersed within the chains.

In short, he was definitely a regal sight standing there. You were reluctant to let go of George’s hand in exchange for Techno’s, yet did all the same. You briefly watched your brother move away, taking a spot beside Dream. You watched your friend for a few moments, shifting beneath his gaze. His gaze was dark, and he offered you a smile. You supposed it was meant to be encouraging, but it never quite reached his eyes. You didn’t care to think too much on it, attention focusing back in on Techno.

He was staring down at you, a soft look in his brown eyes. That helped quell the nerves in your chest, and you offered him a smile as soft as the look he gave you. A moment of peace, almost to yourselves, as the Officiant was droning on beside the two of you.

“...to unite two separate souls into that of one. This braid of ribbon will signify their unity and bind them together, from now until eternity.” The man lifted a thick braid of ribbon, made of three colors: red, white, and black. Small vines of flowers were interwoven with it, and it was certainly pretty. Techno kept one hand with yours, the other taking one end of the ribbon braid from the wrinkled hand holding it out to him.

“Do you swear, on all that you hold dear, that you will protect this woman with your entire being? That you will give her everything you have, in wealth and love?” He rattled as Techno began gingerly weaving the braid around your joined hands. It caused butterflies to stir in your stomach, just watching it. His eyebrows were even knitted together in concentration, the very tip of his tongue peaking out of his mouth.

“I swear on it all, that I will care for her until I draw my last breath.” There was a warmth to his voice that had your cheeks flushing, a smile tugging the corners of your lips up further. You carefully took the braid from him when prompted, weaving it around your hands as well.

“Do you swear, to all you hold close, that you will support this man with your entirety? That through everything, injury and health, sickness and wealth, you will stay by his side?” You finished weaving the braid as he spoke, the two ends hanging loose beneath your hands.

“I swear it. I’ll be by his side until my heart stops beating.” Your voice rang clear, and the officiant seemed content with it.

“Then I will tie the loose ends of this braid. This represents the joining of your two wayward souls joining together to be one. In the presence of the sky and the earth, the trials of water and fire, you will forever be one. Even beyond mortality, you will always be with one another, through this life and the next.” As he spoke, he very carefully grasped the ends of the braid. They were tied together, locking their hands in a grasp. You couldn’t help the grin that split your face at that, turning to look up at Techno.

He offered you a soft smile, taking a step closer to you and carefully gripping your chin with his thumb and forefinger. Your stomach practically exploded into nervous butterflies. The kiss. You had forgotten the kiss. He leaned down, lips pressing to yours firmly. It was just a kiss of obligation, a part of the ceremony, but it had heat crawling over your cheeks and down your neck. He lingered, fingers gently squeezing yours. You couldn’t help but respond to the squeeze, stepping a little closer to him.

He was pulling back after a few heartbeats, smiling at you once more and turning towards the people. You couldn’t help the squeak that escaped you as he held up your bound hands, causing a few of them to cheer. Part of you wanted to hide, but you simply stuck as close to Techno’s side as you could.

“Let’s party!!” Tommy’s voice rang out from the crowd. He was clearly exhausted with all the ceremonial things, though you weren’t entirely sure you blamed him. Weddings weren’t too exciting, though your nerves would beg to differ. You felt like a frazzled mess on the inside, and you still had an entire day to go.

You and Techno stood back, watching the crowd filter towards the ball room. You glanced to the ribbon binding your hands, acutely aware of the feeling of Techno's fingers slotted between yours. You supposed that you were giving the boys time to set up for the first dance. You just accepted the silence, practically leaning against your husband.

"After the dance we'll be able to take the ribbon off. You won’t be tied to me all day." Amusement laced his voice, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

"It's not all bad. A little inconvenient, but all in all it's fine." You looked up to him with a smile, which he returned. Your free hand moved, toying with the ends of the ribbon. The pair of you only stood there for a little longer before you heard Tommy shouting for the pair of you to hurry up. You couldn’t help but laugh. Did he ever stop having energy? You followed Techno along the path winding through the garden, the soft chatter from the ballroom floating over the veranda.

"You did it, Big Man! You're a married man!" Tommy cheered when the pair of you walked in, slinging an arm around both of your shoulders. "Now that this is my sister-in-law," the way he said it, reeling you close to him with a shit eating grin told you this was going to be entertaining, "I can fight her now, right?"

A loud laugh bubbled past your lips at the antics, watching Techno huff and swat at his brother with his free hand. "We'll see." This seemed to be enough to placate Tommy for the time being, sending him scurrying off towards where Tubbo and Wilbur were messing with the instruments in the corner. You watched the blond pester his brother and best friend, a fond smile on your face. He was quite excitable about this all, but it's not like the pair of you had been complete strangers over the past few weeks.

Besides your common training with Techno, you would often spend time sneaking about the castle with Tommy and Tubbo, quietly helping them with all sorts of trouble that they got into. Not to mention the time you spent in the libraries by yourself, or the gardens with Eret. While in the library there were times Wilbur or Philza would visit you. You never minded it, though. Their silent companionship was warm and comfortable. Yet Techno always seemed to hesitate when it came to letting you train with his family. Surely they couldn’t be worse than him- or better, you supposed.

“Spare a coin for your thoughts?” Techno pulled you from your musings of his family, your gaze moving to him instead. You only spared a glance to the others before fully focusing on Techno.

“Just thinking about your family. How you’ve never let me really train with them. Only letting them watch. Is there a certain reason?” Your voice was soft, not willing anyone to hear your words. He paused any movement, seeming to clearly think over the answer. Or perhaps how to best frame it. You weren’t sure why he was thinking so hard, but you could practically see the wheels turning as he did.

“Tommy is reckless. Tubbo is… alright with fighting, a bit clumsy but enthusiastic. Philza is a much higher combat level than I would want you to fight just yet. As for Wilbur…” He trailed off, practically staring off behind your head. You turned, following his gaze to his older brother. The brown-haired prince was toying with the instrument, muttering to Tubbo before looking at Techno with a grin. He gave a thumbs up, and you could see Techno incline his head in a subtle nod before turning to you. “Well, Wilbur is encouraging us to dance.”

If you squinted, you swore you could see the faintest trace of pink on Techno’s cheeks. However you didn’t care to squint too hard, simply positioning the pair of you to dance. He squeezed your still joined hands, other hand hovering momentarily over the middle of your back before settling. Almost as if he had been unsure of the action. Once the two of you had settled comfortably into the position, the soft strings of Wilbur’s instrument filled the room, paired with the gentle notes from Tubbo at the piano. You were half focused on the music, partially focused on your husband. He pulled you along the floor effortlessly, spinning you with a practiced elegance you should have been expecting.

“Why not Wilbur?” You prodded again, only when you had fallen in line with the music as well as Techno. A soft sigh passed his lips as he gazed at you, eyes darting around to the people who were watching you.

“It’s complicated. Best we don’t go into it now.” His tone left no room for argument, a voice he rarely used with you- only when the pair of you trained. You responded with your own sigh, a little disappointed. You supposed you understood, but that didn’t make you any less curious. What was it that made Techno not want you to train with Wilbur?

“Later, then.” You were a little reluctant to agree. You trusted him to tell you whatever it was later. You would be rather upset if he didn’t. The two of you lapsed into silence as you danced. You were so acutely aware of many things. The gazes on you. The pressure of the ribbon braid on your hand. The feel of Techno’s hand on your back. The way you caught Dream’s dark gaze whenever he was in your line of sight. It was a lot, and truly you weren’t sure what to make out of it all.

It felt almost as soon as the dance and music had started, it was ending. Applause poured around you and you fidgeted. You were used to attention, but the attention you were receiving at your wedding was not something you could have ever prepared yourself for. Techno pulled away from you some, almost awkwardly, before reaching for the ribbon. “Why don’t we get this off and you can go dance with your brother. He looks restless.” You turned to look at George, who did in fact appear to be restless. He was shifting, eyes on the pair of you. You offered up a smile, holding up a finger to tell him you would be a moment.

The ribbon peeled from your hands after a few moments. Techno gingerly folded it, tucking it into his pocket. You smiled at him as well, rubbing your hand from where the ribbon had pressed into it. “Go, I’ll play a song. Since I’m required to.” He didn’t necessarily sound happy and you could only laugh.

“Alright. I’ll see you when I get a break. I know everyone is going to want to dance.” You slipped away from Techno to instead make way to George, grinning at him.

“Don’t look so nervous,” You teased, nudging him. He gave a shaking laugh.

“I can’t help it. There’s something almost tense about this whole thing. It feels so formal.” You understood what he meant. You knew marriages in Kinoko were different to this. They were more casual, even for royal families.

“It is strange. Almost overwhelming, isn’t it?” George had nodded in response. “Well then, Crown Prince Nofton,” you began to tease, a lopsided grin on your face. A reminder that you still were, in a way, his little sister he grew up with. “Are you going to keep me waiting?” You held out a hand, arching an eyebrow at him.

“My apologies, Crown Princess Minraelas. Would you honor me, your dearest brother, with a dance on your wedding day?” He bowed dramatically, grin matching your own. His tone was lofty, poking subtle fun at the way the courts of larger countries held themselves. You simply giggled as he took your hand, gently holding it and your shoulder with his other. “It even seems your husband will be playing a song for us.” He was struggling to contain his laughter, and you were barely managing.

The low sound of a violin drifted into the room, causing your head to turn to look at Techno. His eyes were closed as he ran the bow along the strings of the instrument, fingers moving against frets with clear familiarity. For all the resistance he had put up to playing the song, he seemed at peace with it now. You smiled, attention turning back to your brother as he pulled you into the throng of dancing people. "So it would seem," you concluded, letting the pair of you spin gently together as violin notes filled the air.

"You'll still write, won't you?" George had asked again, and you simply laughed softly.

"Always. I promise I'll tell you if I'm ever put into danger." You offered him a reassuring smile and he simply nodded. He seemed content enough, and you knew he had to be. He really was watching you grow up, wasn't he?

"If you don't write, I'm sending our entire army to rescue you." His lips quirked, a breathless laugh escaping him. You couldn't help but laugh as well.

"What makes you think I couldn't hold my own? I'm learning to fight now!" You declared, puffing your chest out just slightly. This elicited another laugh from your brother.

"No offense, but Technoblade handed you your ass. I think you might need the help of an army." You pouted at this, nose wrinkling just a little.

"Well, I doubt it'll ever come to the point of me having to truly fight." You waved it off, shooting him a smile. “I’m well taken care of here. They like me.” You twisted, looking over to where Tubbo was speaking to Tommy. The brunet caught your gaze, brightening and offering you a cheerful wave. You lifted your hand briefly from George’s, returning the wave. Your attention returned to your brother, who simply smiled gently.

“I can tell. I just worry about you being where I can’t see you.” His voice was gentle, hand once more grasping your own. Your gaze softened slightly, head shaking just a little.

“I’m not a little girl anymore, Gogy. I swear to you, I’ll be fine. Happy. Free.” The childhood nickname had rolled off of your tongue with familiarity. A sign of how genuine you were. No formalities. Just two siblings.

He had sighed in response, hugging you tight for a moment. “I know. It’s hard to not see you as one.” You could reluctantly accept that, returning the hug. “I suppose I can’t keep your company for myself. Go, dance with Dream. He probably wants to.”

The words brought your attention to the blond, catching his eye and smiling a little. His gaze seemed conflicted- caught somewhere between soft and affectionate, and hard and frustrated. You tried your best to ignore it, waving him over slightly. He seemed to hesitate, before running his hands down the front of the green tunic he wore and heading your way.

“Princess,” he greeted gently once he was close. Your eyes shone with light-hearted fondness, taking his proffered hand. He tugged you closer to him, one hand curled with yours while the fingers of the other dug slightly into your waist. You shrugged the grip off a little, free hand settling onto his shoulder, fingers fingers brushing the white fur of the cape that sat there.

“For now,” You teased, beaming up at him. Mischief was clear in your grin, letting him whisk you away along the dance floor. His eye flickered with something- too quick for you to notice. Then it was looking over your head, seemingly focusing on someone else. You almost turned to look, but he was soon focused on you. He moved way too fast for you to keep up. It was exhausting, yet you weren't sure you wanted to bother with it right now. Not today.

His fingers grasped your waist tighter. "You're really set on this, aren't you? Are you even sure you truly want to become queen to him? To this nation?" Disgust and irritation laced his words. Hell, he even sounded accusatory. You frowned up at him, squaring your shoulders.

"I've told you this before. I'm going through with this. I'm fine. You and George worry too much. Praelicentiam has treated me well," you reassured. Your fingers smoothed the fur of his cloak, praying it was enough.

He still looked disgruntled, lips tugging into a small scowl. "You know if things go wrong-" he started, but you shook his head to cut him off.

"I can return to Kinoko. I know. You and George have told me this more times than I can count." Your eyes fluttered shut in an attempt to calm yourself. His grip relaxed in the process, tugging you even closer.

"I just worry for you here. You've heard the rumors. I feel like you'd be safer in Kinoko." Where he could watch you. It was left unsaid, but definitely implied. He leaned down, pressing a feather light and affectionate kiss to your forehead. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you made to move away, saved by the clearing of a throat.

"Surely you wouldn't mind if I stole our bride for a dance?" A firm hand sat on your arm, drawing your attention to the blond man who had interrupted. Philza stood there, a kind yet unnerving smile directed to your childhood friend.

Dream narrowed his eye for a moment before he relented, handing you over to the man. "Of course not. I'll talk to you later, princess." The distaste in his voice was palpable, but you were able to ignore it.

"You were starting to look like a deer caught in the middle of a path," Philza pulled your attention to him as he moved with you to the music. You couldn’t help but laugh nervously.

"Dream can be a lot sometimes." Philza had simply inclined his head in acknowledgement as you spoke. Dream always had a way to be intense, and you never deciphered if it was good. It had been that way for the past year. You were hardly given time to dwell on your best friend, though. Instead you were being handed over to Tommy, who seemed far from thrilled. Just behind him you could see Wilbur, throwing him a very pointed look.

He didn't seem to linger with his dance, grumbling the whole time about how he hated these formal events. Much like the child he was. You would only laugh, knocking his ankles with your feet.

Then you were off to Tubbo, who's eyes were just as bright as his grin. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were enjoying my wedding more than I am." It was a lighthearted tease but he couldn't help but sheepishly laugh.

"For now I am, yeah," he acknowledged. You followed his gaze over your shoulder, where Schlatt stood holding a cup of wine. You supposed he wasn't looking forward to dealing with his father. You didn't blame him. Beside Schlatt stood Dream, his eye focused solely on you. The pair seemed quiet, thankfully. The idea of Schlatt talking too much with Dream made your stomach churn. You didn't doubt that Schlatt would be able to make Dream do something stupid- the older man was no doubt irritating.

The music faded to a new song, joined with a new dance partner. Your feet were aching, begging for a chance to sit down. Yet you supposed it was obligatory to dance with people. At least your new family seemed to believe so. Which is why Wilbur was now gliding you across the dance floor. He held himself with a poise very akin to Techno’s, a practiced poise and grace to his movements.

As if the way he held himself as he danced wasn't reminder enough, he couldn't help but joke, "If things had gone differently perhaps I would have been the one to promise you my last breath." He laughed, shooting you an amused smile. You echoed his laugh, briefly pondering how different Praelicentiam may have been.

"We'll never know, shall we? I think I prefer you my brother, anyways." He nodded in agreement, one hand softly patting your hair. It was exhausting, being on your feet this long. You needed to eat.

Eret seemed to realize this as they stepped up to you, holding a hand out. "One dance with me and I'll get you back to Technoblade. You've been dancing awhile." You let your shoulders sag a little.

"Just one dance, then. I'm exhausted." A whine edged into your voice. They laughed and nodded, seeming satisfied once you placed a hand into their's. Their movements were a comfort, in a way. You felt endlessly comfortable with them.

"Do you miss Kinoko?" They questioned after a few moments, making your steps stutter. It wasn't a question you expected from them.

You regained yourself, offering a soft smile. "Of course. It's my home, there's people I love there. It'll always be my home and I'll always yearn for it. The path laid ahead of me led me here, though. This is my home just as much." You loved Kinoko endlessly. Yet you were growing to love Praelicentiam. This was going to be your kingdom one day. You needed to learn to love it and it's people.

Eret seemed to think on your answer, sighing softly. "So long as you find happiness."

"I'll be happy here," you were quick to defend, offering a smile. They relented, and pulled back as the song came to an end.

"Fine, fine. Let's get you off of your feet." You were more than happy to follow Eret as they led you through the mix of people. As if it was even hard to spot Techno, where he stood talking quietly to a short man. You barely got a look at him before you were noticed. The man looked at you from behind glasses before smiling, seeming to disappear into the crowd before you got close. You frowned, lifting an eyebrow at Techno.

"Finally had enough socialization?" His voice called to you once within range. Eret squeezed your shoulder, muttering about how they needed to attend to other matters and disappearing.

"More than enough. Who was that?" You tried to locate the man in the crowd, but he was nowhere you could see. Weird.

“Someone running a favor for me.” It was a bland answer but you supposed there wasn’t much to expect. You simply relaxed into his hand as it settled between your shoulder blades, steering you towards seating. It took everything in your power to not sink into the chair as it was pulled out for you. You had a feeling that now that you were seated, you’d be there for a long while.

Techno settled into the seat beside you, his eyes raking over everyone else. Watching as if he expected something. You followed the gaze, trying to view things as he did. Yet you couldn’t. All you saw was people partying, enjoying their time there. Eret was conversing with George, your older brother struggling to stifle laughter. Wilbur was talking to Nihachu and two people you couldn’t recognize. One was a woman, tall with a mop of curls like you had never seen. The way her fingers curled with Nihachu’s gave you enough clue on who she was. The other was a man, currently laughing over something you wished you could hear. He seemed to be laughing hard, struggling to keep ginger and white locks of hair out of his face.

You sought out the younger two, knowing they would be joined at the hip. It wasn’t too hard. They stood with another- a boy? He looked young in the face, from what you could see given the slightly anxious expression he wore. Light patches of skin quite a few shades lighter littered him, dual colored eyes focusing on Tommy. His hair was like an extreme version of the man who was with Wilbur- yet instead of ginger there was black. As well as several patches of white as opposed to a single tuft. He was certainly a sight to behold and you swore you had never seen him before. You would have remembered him.

You pushed it aside, for now. You sought out the few other people you knew still. Dream was in a corner, arms crossed over his chest as he talked to a guard. You could tell it was a Kinoko guard, but couldn’t tell who. You tried to look harder to figure it out- you grew up with much of the guard- but it was pointless. His back was to you. It would be more worth it to continue your conversation with Technoblade. “You seem to have a lot of people doing favors for you.”

He huffed in laughter beside you, turning his attention from the people. Instead he watched you, amusement bright in brown eyes.”I’m the crown prince. Of course I have a lot of favors being done.”

“What type of favors?” You questioned, kicking your feet just slightly. You wanted to know. As much time as you spent training with Techno, you didn’t know what he did beyond that. He was still as much of a mystery to you as when he walked into Kinoko.

He shook his head, eyes flicking towards the people again. “Things I would prefer you to stay out of unless necessary. Instead of thinking about that, think about food.” You opened your mouth to complain but he was already waving a servant over, mentioning food to them. The boy nodded, turning to go fetch the food.

You let yourself focus on the food. You’d already tried pushing Techno on one subject today and had to leave it alone, you weren’t going to try a second one. It’s not that you weren’t hungry, either. Everything that had happened today had made you hungry. At least the food was good. You were still having to adjust to the amount of food too. Kinoko hadn’t been able to eat like this in quite some time. You wondered if George and Dream felt similarly to the food- though you were sure that Praelicentiam had since begun to send food over.

It was only when you had finished you truly began to wind down. So did much of the celebration. People left the room with stomachs full of wine and good food. You’d have to thank Nihachu for it. In the morning, though. She had already left with her girlfriend. You were eager to join the crowds of people leaving. You were ready to go to sleep.

Which was a problem.

You had been taught for so much of your life what was expected of you on your wedding night. Your mom had made sure of that, unwilling to see her daughter get hurt in ignorance. Yet, it still had a weight settling in your stomach. A rock lodged in your throat. Why was it now that you felt the fear Dream was so insistent you felt? Was it because you didn’t know what to expect from Techno?

You couldn’t help but glance at him, fingers toying with your dress. You honestly hoped it was nothing like training. It made you wince, which pulled his attention to you instead. “Are you tired?” His voice was low. You hesitated, glancing towards the few people who still lingered. George and Dream had both left, as well as Tommy, Tubbo, and their tall friend. So few people were here now. You gave in and nodded. There was no point in sticking around. Techno stood up then, holding a hand out for you to take.

It was natural for you to let him lead you through the castle, despite you already knowing it pretty well. He seemed to want to make sure you got wherever you were going safely. The silence was crushing and tense. You almost felt like you were drowning in it. Could he hear the way your heart thrummed against your rib cage, or how your blood was roaring in your ears.

Yet he passed his chambers entirely, heading towards yours instead. It threw you off. Weren’t you supposed to consummate the marriage? Your confusion must have been evident, because he spoke softly, “You seem exhausted. Get some sleep.” A hand settled on your shoulder, squeezing softly. Then he leaned around you to open the door, leaving you to your thoughts and wondering why he had taken you to your room instead of his.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt #dream smp #dream smp x reader #reader insert #dsmp #dsmp x reader #dream team #technoblade #technoblade x reader #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #kingdom au #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois family #t&t

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ironmanfridgemagnet · 2 years

Text

Sitting On The Shelf - Marcus White x Reader

Part 10 - Demotion

SOTS Masterlist

Walking into the break room on a Monday morning was never fun. Knowing that you had a full week ahead of work dragged all joy out of your body. Mindlessly walking over to your locker, you opened it, shoving in your bag and the contents of your coat pockets.

Upon closing the door, you were startled by the way too close face of Marcus.

"Holy shit, Marcus, that was terrifying." Taking a step back, you created a slight bit more distance between the two of you. "Could've given me a warning or something."

"Sorry y/n," Marcus muttered, a hand coming up to rub the nape of his neck anxiously. "I just wanted to say hi. I'm glad I'm back so we can finally have those shifts together."

"You remembered?" You asked, receiving a wink in response.

"Me too." You confirmed, flashing Marcus a sweet smile. Noticing Glenn had entered the break room, you bid your goodbyes, walking over to the empty chair between Garret and Jonah that had been saved for you.

Upon sitting down, Garret pushed a steaming mug of coffee in front of you, quirking his eyebrow at you in silent question of what was that about?

Shaking your head at him, you turned to face Glenn, taking a sip of the hot liquid.

"Can we please try and shoo the toddlers away from the sunglasses stand? I know that's where they all like to go, but we're getting a lot of damage there. Also from the lower yogurts. They tend to just want to put their fingers in." Glenn announced to the breakroom, his eyes flickering between the group he'd gathered and his clipboard.

"Something going on with you and Dina?" Garret asked, leaning back towards you and Jonah so his words would go unnoticed by everyone else.

"There definitely is J, its stressfully obvious." You added, bringing your mug up to your lips to have another sip. Looking across the room at Dina, your eyes immediately flickered over to Jonah as you made eye contact with the bird-loving woman, suddenly unnerved. "It's freaking me out."

"No." Jonah insisted, shuffling in his seat under Dina's uncomfortable gaze.

"I don't know, man, you guys are exchanging little peek-a-boo glances, and it's making me uncomfortable." Garret emphasised, a shiver running down his spine at the thought of being trapped under Dina's piercing glare.

"Okay. The other night, when we were all locked in the store, Dina kind of came on to me." Jonah admitted, shifting anxiously in his seat, his hands folded across his lap as his eyes flickered between you and Garret.

"Shit, really?" You asked, louder then you had meant to, receiving a glare from Jonah. That must have been why you'd found him in the photo lab with her; Dina must have wanted to bang Jonah. Face paling at the realisation on what you had been listening in on, you took another sip of coffee, hoping to hide your face behind the cup.

"Wow." Garret whispered, too shocked by Jonah's news to form proper words. "I didn't know Dina was into fancy little porcelain doll-men."

Bringing your hand up to cover your mouth, you tried to keep the coffee in, Garret's comment having filled your chest with unexpected laughter.

"So, while we haven't caught the raccoon yet, I do feel that we're starting to have a better understanding of his patterns." Glenn's morning announcements continued on in the background, the three of you too focused on Jonah's situation to really care.

"So, you tap that?" Garret asked with a straight face, trying to desperately hide the topic of conversation from the rest of the breakroom.

"Yeah, did you bang in the bang room?" You teased, taking another sip of your coffee, hiding your smile behind the brim of the mug.

"No, I felt bad. And I told her that I wasn't comfortable dating a supervisor, and she was cool with it." Jonah revealed, Dina's forlorn demeanour making more sense with each word that was revealed. "Besides, I had someone else on my mind."

Jonah muttered his final words, quiet enough that only you would hear. Meeting his eyes, he flashed you a gentle smile, before quickly turning back to Glenn who was finishing up the morning announcements.

"Moving on, one final announcement from Dina." Glenn said, taking a step back to allow Dina to take the stage.

"Effective immediately, I will be stepping down from my position of assistant manager to associate level so that I may concentrate on personal matters." Dina announced, her eyes lingering on Jonah as she scanned over the members of staff.

"Oh, fuck." You whispered, grabbing onto Garret's arm in shock - there was probably no way out for him now, Dina having taking his excuse as a next step rather than a rejection.

"Well, I think I speak for everyone when I say that's really, really sad. I know that I'm gonna miss your constant criticism of me a lot." Glenn said with a too-wide smile covering his face.

As Glenn started the morning chant, the smile stayed lingering on his face, almost too excited at the news of Dina's departure from assistant manager. However, a frown began to form on your own face, knowing that this was going to be only the beginning of a very long day.

————————————————————————

"I can't believe she's stepping down." Cheyenne gasped from across the table, everyone still shaken by the news of Dina stepping down from a job you knew she loved so much.

"Hmm. I wonder what her personal matters could be." Garret asked in fake wonder, his higher pitched tone of voice giving it all away - to you at least. "Hey, Jonah. You got any ideas?"

"Me? No, I don't. Mmm-mmm." Jonah chocked on his words, over shaking creamer into the coffee he was making as he was startled.

"Are her birds okay? Has anybody checked the live webcam?" Amy asked urgently, concerned as there had previously appeared to be no reason Dina would ever step down. Jonah leant against the counter top beside you, passing you a fresh cup of coffee and shifting from foot to foot.

"Maybe she has gambling debts and she had to take time off to do favours for the mob boss that she owes money to." Cheyenne suggested with wide eyes, deciding it must be due to Dina having a double life. "Or maybe it's something else."

"No, I wonder who's gonna replace her. A lot of people have been suggesting it should be me. Kind of a groundswell." Mateo bragged, feeling as though he'd be the best fit for assistant manager. While you wouldn't mind Mateo as assistant manager, you'd much prefer someone who wouldn't making working there a living hell: someone like Amy; though you doubted she'd ever take up a job that was more work for what she already got.

"You know, she did mention a few weeks ago that her grandmother was sick." Amy suggested, her mind still clouded with confusion. Nodding in silent agreement, you didn't speak up, not trusting that you wouldn't give something away.

"Oh, that's great!" Jonah's head snapped up at the news, glad that ideas of Dina's stepping down were no where near the religion of him. "No, I didn't mean. No, it's, uh I was just saying, you know, like, if I get that age, somebody put a bullet in me."

Deciding you had dealt with enough of the unusually tense atmosphere in the breakroom, you stood from your seat - thanking Jonah and Garret for the coffee, you headed to the store floor, hoping to find Marcus.

————————————————————————

Walking out the back of the store , you made your way over to electronics where you knew you would find Marcus after having taken a quick glance at the rota Amy had left out. Excited to have been paired with him, you sped down the isles of the store, downing what was left of your coffee as you approached electronics.

"Hey Marcus!" You cheered as you turned the corner to electronics, finding him stacking some tablets into the display case.

"Y/n! Hey! I didn't realise you were assigned to electronics today." Greeted with a wide smile from Marcus, you felt one forming on your own face. Moving next to him, you unlocked the adjacent cabinet and began to stack in more tablets.

"I'm sorry about having to rain check our catch up. I didn't want half the store listening to our personal conversations y'know?" Personal conversations. Marcus felt his heart tighten at the phrasing, the idea that you'd wanted to keep that moment shared just between the two of you filling him with warmth.

"No worries Y/n, I get it. We seem to have time now though?" Marcus offered, immediately beginning to backtrack at the realisation that you were in the very store you'd not wanted to call him in before. "My bad, we don't have to if-"

"No, I'd quite like that actually." Both of you looked away from each other, a warmth covering both of your cheeks, continuing to stack tablets into the opened case in electronics.

"Well, after the Adam situation, not much really happened." Though that wasn't true, you didn't want to tell him about what happened between you and Jonah. The situation was too fresh, and you were worried that if you did, Marcus might think you don't like him. Not that you do, obviously. Right?

"Did the douche bag even apologise?" Marcus asked, his shoulders tensing and his tone of voice changing.

"No, he got Amy to do it for him." At the loud scoff that came from Marcus, you let out an even louder laugh. "I know right? What a jerk."

"Jerk is the least I would call him." Marcus added, both of you laughing at each other at the trivialness of the argument that had happened between you and Adam. You were still upset he had outed your secret to the whole store before you were ready, but looking back, the fact you sparked the argued over a grill? Hilarious.

"Other then that though? Well obviously we got locked in and- Oh, we had the yearly wedding stuff day." Marcus nodded along as you spoke, listening intently to what you had to say about your time without him in the store. "I tried on this one dress - and It was so, so gorgeous - Garret said I looked good, but I didn't believe him until he showed me the pictures."

"You and Garret, huh?" Marcus asked, hung up on the mention of the announcer you always seemed to hang around with. Though he was fairly certain there was nothing going on between the two of you, he had never been able to quite place where your relationship landed; the back and forth flirting making it especially hard.

"Oh, Gare? He's like, my number one hype-man. He always makes me feel good; he's a really great friend." Friend. Marcus smiled at your words, half happy Garret was only a friend, and half happy you had a friend who would make you feel good about yourself and cheer you up.

"I better get to see that picture at some point." Marcus teased, a blush covering your face as you began to pull your phone out of your back pocket.

"Are you sure? Some may say I look hideous."

"When your number one hype man says you look good? Ridiculous!" Marcus reassured, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side as you unlocked your phone.

Surprised by the sudden warmth exuding through Marcus's fitted grey jumper, you swiped through your phone with shaking hands, finger lingering above the photo's app for a second longer then usual. Clicking onto your 'favourites' folder, you brought up the photo of Jonah tickling you, your head thrown back in laughter and a wide smile spread across both of your faces.

"Garret was right, you look amazing." Marcus said in an almost whisper, staring at the photo intently. Of course you had a boyfriend , how could he be so stupid?

Marcus pulled away from you suddenly, locking up the case of tablets and moving further into electronics. Before you could ask about the sudden change in temperament, Amy's voice boomed over the intercom, asking Marcus to come to Glenn's office.

Marcus, waved you over, a silent plea to join him on his venture. Locking up the case in front of you, you joined Marcus, the two of you heading to the back of the store together.

————————————————————————

"Is this about the headphones?" Marcus asked once he was seated comfily in Glenn's office, you in the chair next to him, legs hanging over the arm closest to Marcus.

"What headphones?" Amy asked, eyeing Marcus up and down accusingly before turning to face you. "And what are you doing here y/n?"

"Moral support?" You suggested, pulling your phone out of your pocket as it buzzed. "I'm not entirely sure."

"Oh!" Marcus let out a breath of air that he had been holding in, relief filling is face. "I don't know. I mean, I didn't take them. They probably forgot to load them on the truck."

"Right." Glenn nodded at Marcus, unconvinced in what he was saying. Did Marcus even know what he had been called in here for?

Gare-Bear <3 | Jonah's fucking stupid. Please come and knock some common sense into this poor man.

"I mean, if that's what was stolen. We don't know if something was, first. That should be the first question we ask, before we make accusations." Marcus backtracked in an attempt to un-accuse himself of stealing the headphones, though it was probably too late for that now.

Doll face <3 | I'll be right out, in some meeting thing with Glenn and Ames.

"If you don't believe me, then why don't you go check the tapes, okay? Just check the tapes, man. It's all in the tapes." Marcus began to shout, his words becoming louder and louder the more flustered he became.

"Marcus, maybe we should drop it?" You suggested, placing a hand on his shoulder so that he would turn to face you. However, it was to no avail.

"Check the tapes. Check the tapes. Check the tapes." Marcus chanted, clapping his hands together as he spoke.

"Yeah, all right, we will." Amy replied sternly, folding her arms across her chest in frustration.

"You guys actually tape us? That's so messed up." Marcus suddenly quieted down, sinking back into his chair as he felt the eyes of everyone else in the room on him.

"That's enough actually Marcus, thank you for your time." Amy concluded, both you and Marcus rising from your seats to go.

"Oh, uh, y/n? Do you mind staying?" Amy asked, you nodding lightly. Turning and saying goodbye to Marcus, he left Glenn's office, under the promise that you'd speak to him later.

"Would you like to be assistant manager y/n?" Glenn suddenly asked, your whole body freezing at the question. You wouldn't dream of taking up such a job, at least not any time soon: you didn't have the guts to do it, especially when you weren't going to get much more out of it for all the extra time you'd have to put in.

"I'm really good Glenn." You said quietly, feeling small under the frown that settled over Glenn's face. While you didn't want to make Glenn upset, you knew you weren't the person for the job.

"I think we should review the current order." Amy suggested, trying to ease the tension that had suddenly filled the office.

"I'm sorry, can you explain the order again?" Glenn asked, his hand coming to rest against his temple, the stress of finding a new assistant manager clearly beginning to get to him.

"As you go from left to right, then each one is worse than the one before it." Amy explained, running her finger along the I.D styled photos of each employee that had been interviewed. "But, If you go from right to left, then each one is worse than the one before it."

"Maybe your standards are too high. I mean, we're a retail department store. We're not hiring the King of England here." Glenn spluttered out, hoping that he could just hire someone good quickly; though knowing the members of cloud 9, it was unlikely.

"I just don't want to hire someone who's gonna make our daily lives miserable." Amy sighed, placing her hands on her hips as she scanned over the photos.

"I agree, I don't want someone who's going to do a bad job. Especially if its someone like Tate." The thought alone sent a shiver down your spine - the idea of such an egotistical manic running the show terrifying you.

"Amy, come have a look out the window with me." Glenn said coyly, at least what he thought was coyly, a smirk forming on his face. "You know, in times of crisis, good people do what needs to be done, and... Amy! Are you leaving or just peeing?"

"Leaving." Amy stated, fleeing the office and Glenn's attempt at hiring her as assistant manager.

"Okay. Just wanted to know if I should wait." Glenn's shoulders deflated, stepping away from the window and taking his place back in his chair, looking over the photos once more.

"For the record Glenn?" You spoke up, standing halfway out of the door, ready to talk some sense into Jonah. "I'm team Amy for assistant manager. She'll probably come around to the idea."

With a final smile, you departed from Glenn's office, hoping you could speak to Jonah before he did something he would regret.

————————————————————————

"So, instead of just telling her you were not interested, you said you would go to her house to eat risotto and watch Gene Hackman inspire a small town?" You asked, unbelieving at what Jonah had just told you. Garret had been right - not unlike usual - that Jonah had fucked up, and you weren't quite sure how anything he could do, or say, would help him get out of his current situation.

"You know what's odd? Garret said the exact same thing!" With a stern glare from you, Jonah answered your question with a proper response.

"I'm not the bad news guy. I'm the good news guy, you know? "Nicole had a baby!" "Aden made varsity!" "Did you hear about Dean? He beat lupus!" People love hearing good news from me." Jonah persuaded, his arms folding across his chest defensively.

You didn't disagree. In all the time you'd known Jonah, he'd completely sucked at doing anything negative - delivering bad news, saying no to people, convincing people to do stuff they didn't need to. And shockingly, you didn't think that was going to change now.

"You just need to be straight up with her," You suggested, gripping Jonah by his forearms and forcing him to look directly at you. "Get it over and done with, rip off the band aid, y'know?"

"Not helping peach, it's harder said then done." Jonah rolled his eyes, looking intently at the floor, seeming to be thinking of whether his plan was actually a good one.

"J, she's literally walking over right now. Just say it." You span Jonah around after noticing Dina approaching the two of you, patting him firmly on the shoulder in a sigh of good luck.

"Worst case, tell her you're secretly married or something. You'll figure it out." With a final squeeze of reassurance to Jonah's shoulder's you began to walk away. Leaning back and whisper-yelling a final piece of advice. "And make sure you don't use that recording!"

Jonah would be fine, you were sure of it. However, you decided to not wait around to watch, instead choosing to find Garret and update him on your attempt at getting through to Jonah.

————————————————————————

"I should say something to her." Jonah said, having bumped into you and Garret after escaping Dina. From what he had explained, the confrontation had not been the best situation to be in, but Dina had taken it like a champ, leaving Jonah and his guilt to fester in the empty changing room.

"Look on the bright-side J, Its over! It's in the past, and I suggest that you leave it there." Grabbing Jonah's hand, you tried to stop him from walking over to Dina: potentially ruining the slightly uncomfortable civility they had fallen into, and turning it into something much worse.

"But you just broke up with the lady over voice memo. Maybe just let her chill out for a little bit." Garret suggested, his face pulling into a look of confusion as to why Jonah would go out of his way to make the situation worse.

"You know what? I'm not leaving it like this." Jonah asserted, breaking away from your hold and walking over to Dina, determination filling each step he took.

Garret rolled his eyes, reaching up to grab the blue phone that was attached to the intercom. He let out a deep sigh, your hand coming to rest on his shoulder, and rub soothing circles into it; a sympathetic look covering both your faces at the fact you couldn't stop Jonah - even when he was getting in way too over his head.

"Attention, shoppers. Are you about to do something you might regret? We here at Cloud 9 encourage you to reconsider. Just ask yourself, "Am I doing this to help someone else or to make myself feel better?"

Letting out a small laugh, you smiled gently down at Garret, rubbing his shoulder for a moment more before removing your hand. Looking up, you looked as Jonah walked towards Dina, hesitating before walking away from her in defeat.

"Well, my shift will be over in a minute, so I'm gonna go get my stuff and clock out." You announced, taking a few small steps away and walking towards the breakroom, your eyes still set on Garret as you moved. "I'll see you around Gare."

"See you, doll." Garret replied, laughing to himself as you put up a pair of finger guns, before turning around and walking towards the breakroom with haste - ready to go home and hopefully see Marcus on your way.

————————————————————————

Finding Jonah on your way out of the store, you linked your arm in his, poking and prodding his side in teasing fun as he'd admitted that he still hadn't spoken to Dina. Jonah let out a sigh, rolling his eyes at your playful antics, his hand coming to rest in his pocket making your linked arms pull you closer to each other. His head hung low, as though he'd been upset with himself for turning Dina down - though he couldn't help his own feelings.

Having accepted heading back to Jonah's apartment, needing to pick up the things you had left there after your Saturday together, you headed out of the cloud 9 car park and towards his apartment complex. However, Jonah suddenly pulled you off course, having seen Dina in the corner of his eye, and still feeling the desperate need to apologise.

"Hey, Dina, listen." Jonah said as he approached, your arm still mindlessly linked with his own, causing a scowl to settle over Dina's face. Dina had known that there was probably someone else in Jonah's picture, some real reason as to why he'd rejected her, but to think it was such an innocent dove like you made her ever-the-more upset with Jonah. How could he have lead her on when he had sweet little y/n wrapped around his arm?

"I know I should probably leave this alone, but I just wanted to say, I'm really sorry about the way I handled everything. I mean, I you're an amazing person."

"It's fine. You don't have to do this." Dina said with little emotion, raising her hand to keep the distance between her and Jonah as he tried, and failed, to profusely apologise.

"No, I do, because I mean it. I mean it. You know, you're gonna meet someone terrific, and I just hope you and I can..." Jonah's words were cut short as a pair of hands clapped against the trunk of Dina's car.

"Hey, Mama." Marcus cheered, a wide smile covering his face as he approach Dina, clearly very happy to see her.

"Hey, you ready?" Dina asked, turning away from the two of you to look at Marcus; a wide smile forming on her face and the tension dissolving from her shoulder.

Fuck. You should've known that once you'd turned down Jonah - someone who cared fiercely for you and wanted to be with you - the guy you'd like would start dating someone else. Though, as you dwelled on it, you'd never asked: you and Marcus's late night phone calls, constant check ups while he was away, or when you hadn't had a shift together for a few days, his caring and sometimes flirtatious demeanour had all suggested to you that he could be into you. However, as you watched their interaction, carefree and loving, you couldn't help but feel like a complete and utter idiot.

The way Marcus smiled was genuine, full of happiness and love, for the person who stood before him.

Someone who wasn't you.

"Yeah, I'm psyched. I've never seen "Hoosiers."" Marcus sheepishly admitted, a blush covering his cheeks as he knew how much Dina loved it. Of course he did. Of course he knew exactly what she liked and how it would excite her for him to see it too.

"Oh, it'll change your life. Let's go." Dina nudged her head towards her truck, her and Marcus ready to climb in as you and Jonah remained in stunned silence.

"Have fun you guys." Your words came out much meeker then you had intended, Jonah turning to look at you with concern written across his face. Marcus's eyes met yours, suddenly very aware of your presence in the group and the colour seemed to drain from him.

"Look, this doesn't have to be weird, okay? It just didn't work out. Sure, you're cute, but there's, uh there's a lot of cute around. See you tomorrow." Dina explained, placing a gentle hand on Jonah's shoulder for a second, then quickly getting in her van, Marcus looking at you hesitantly as he and Dina talked animatedly in the truck about the evening ahead of them.

You and Jonah walked away slowly, both still stunned by the event that had just happened - you almost ill by the thought of Marcus and Dina and Jonah hurt by the thought she'd moved on so quickly. Walking back to where you should've gone, the pair of you were silent, arms still linked though now very loosely, thoughts crowding each's mind.

"You okay, J?" You asked, leaning more into the man next to you then you had before, hoping to find even an ounce of comfort in his hold.

In arms you wished were someone else's.

"Just startled." Jonah replied, his eyebrows creasing tensely together as he struggled to figure out how Dina had gotten over him so quickly. Though he didn't think he was 'all that' in the realm of dating, he was surprised that things had managed to change so quickly in one afternoon - especially when she'd seemed so hung up on him only minutes ago.

"Are you?" He rebuttald, the signature teasing smirk that you had gotten so used to covering his face.

"Yeah I'm good, just surprised." You whispered out, hoping the lie would cover up your real feelings about the situation. "I just never imagined Marcus and Dina together."

"And you're sure that's the only reason why?" Jonah pushed, his arm slipping out of your own, instead moving to sit over your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure." You affirmed, hoping Jonah would just drop the subject. While you wanted to talk about how you were feeling, seeing the person you like with someone else, it couldn't be Jonah. Not after everything that had happened the last few days; it wasn't fair to him.

"You know what I think?" Jonah asked rhetorically, pulling away from you so he could look you in the eyes. "Even though I'm sure this won't console you in any way?"

"Even if I say no, you're still going to tell me. Right?" You retorted, rolling your eyes as you let out a short laugh at the very Jonah-like behaviour. Even now, more so then ever maybe, he could read you like an open book.

"It's his loss."

A silence fell over the two of you as you continued to walk, though only for a moment, as you let out a quiet laugh, curling slightly more into Jonah as you did. Looking up at the man you were walking with, you smiled at him brightly, the upset that had been churning in your stomach dissolving under his words.

"His loss? I don't know what you mean-"

"I'm just saying." Jonah cut your words short, determined to get his point across before you would stop him. You wouldn't. "Think about it: He's out with Dina and I'm walking home with the most beautiful girl in St. Louis, hell, the whole of Missouri."

A blush coated your cheeks, swooning at Jonah's sweet and genuine words. Despite everything he was still the sweet and caring Jonah he had been when you first met - ignoring the fact that so much had changed since then. He was more confident now, and definitely part of your strange little cloud 9 family; and you were all the better for it.

"You're too sweet, J." Shaking your head lightly, you let out a meek laugh.

Small talk took over the silence, you and Jonah discussing everything and anything on your walk back to his apartment. While you could've waited to grab your stuff, or asked Jonah to bring it to work for you, you were glad you'd agreed to walk back to his apartment complex. The light conversation allowed you to forget about Marcus and Dina, and focus on what mattered to you right now: getting your things and enjoying your time with Jonah.

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☆: .｡. Tag List .｡.:☆ @write-from-the-heart @despicablylara @whatafreakingloser @flowercrowns-goodvibes @millieb-3199 @lolawassad @catarina-trouxa @rainbow-moon @thepurplebutterflythings

Want to be added to the taglist? send an ask to let me know <3

————————————————————————

DUN DUN DUNNNNN

Finally more Marcus and Y/n content 😫😫 Hopefully Marcus realises soon that Y/n and Jonah aren't dating soon hehe, but he still got to see the pictures which is what matters ;)

Next part will be out next Wednesday however, I am considering a sub part on Sunday again ;)

Please let me know what you thought of this part and how I can improve!!

And as always, have a lovely week!! <33

#sitting on the shelf marcus white x reader #superstore x reader #cloud 9 #superstore #superstore imagine #marcus white #marcus white x reader #marcus superstore #marcus white imagine #superstore marcus imagine

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Opposites

Characters: Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 1,594

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: In which the reader is the brain and Xiao is the brawn

Author’s Note: I wasn’t sure what the general setting should be so I put it in a vaguely college/university setting. Prolly cause that’s around my age and also because I cordially dislike highschool AUs. Hopefully that works out alright!

I had to type out almost 2,000 words on my iphone. I never want to do that again.

Xiao

Honestly none of your friends are actually sure how you two got together.

After all, if someone were to take a picture of you and your partner side-by-side then show it to people not in the know, well the prevailing emotion would be something along the lines of: “Are they classmates or neighbors or something?”

To be fair, when the two of your first met even the idea that you would ever end up in love was something laughable. Having been pushed together for a project, your knee-jerk reaction had been: Oh I’m totally going to end up doing this all by myself.

Thankfully however you’d been quickly proven wrong. Although Xiao hadn’t necessarily been the best about planning and other such things, his work was organized and he always showed up to every meeting with his parts completed.

By the end of the project you never wanted to work with another person on a group project again.

And, to be completely honest, you’d definitely developed a crush on your slightly aloof group partner.

Xiao’s reaction was much harder to read.

At first he appeared to want nothing to do with you. Work was emailed to you with not so much as a subject line; meetups passed in awkward silence broken by tentative questions on your part. You’d sort of assumed that he saw you as annoying and the group work as useless - which to be fair it sort of was useless.

So when he emailed you a few weeks later asking for your number and if you wanted to do something, well, safe to say you almost fell out of your chair.

Though the start was a little awkward, Xiao’s conversational nature didn’t develop much in general, you two fell into a routine of sorts, a relationship of unspoken boundaries and spontaneous confidences.

During the first few weeks of you odd sort of relationship you’d come to the conclusion that, though not a talker, Xiao was ultimately quite apathetic in nature. Eventually however you realized apathetic wasn’t the right term.

Though he might’ve appeared sullen on the outside, Xiao never actually acted in a way that hinted at any resentment or irritation; he never dragged his feet about something or implied it was stupid that you should ask for help or for a favor.

His assertiveness, which might’ve been mistaken for aloofness, was endearing. Xiao never half-asses anything, even when if wasn’t doing something for another person, like you.

You appreciated this side of his personality, the fact that he was quick to act, admired if even. It certainly stood in stark contrast to your tendency to overthink things, something that could quickly end up kneecapping you depending on what decisions were being debated.

It was an alien concept to you, the sort of philosophy Xiao seemed to live by, and its novelty was refreshing.

As your thoughts slid more and more to focusing on Xiao you became more and more aware of the rumors that abounded about him.

He was a troubled youth, he was prone to fighting, he had been so uncontrollable in secondary school that only one teacher had been able to get him to do anything. The only times he spoke was to wound, and he never had a word to say that wasn’t angry.

Well, obviously that wasn’t the truth, but any attempt to clear up the situation was quickly met with odd stares and responses that all smacked of: “Oh you poor idiot, you just haven’t learned yet.”

You would’ve liked to think that you didn’t let it affect your relationship with him, but evidently the rumors had begun to catch up to you.

“Hey, you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Have I?” You shifted awkwardly in your seat. Xiao sighed, evidently aware of where this was going.

“It’s because of what people say about me, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

“I see.”

That had been the beginning and the end of the conversation for quite some time, almost as if Xiao had yet to decide whether or not you were one of the few in whom he could entrust the truth. Yet despite the rumors and the odd looks you still found yourself gravitating towards Xiao, and soon enough that initial pull turned into something much deeper.

The day that you two became “official” was the day Xiao told you the truth. He had been a delinquent as a teenager.

Born into a family full of troubles Xiao shouldered the circumstances as best he could.

However things cannot stay untouched forever; the distress that Xiao experienced only grew, the pressure ratcheting up with every incident, every item thrown to the ground, every fight that ended in humiliating pain.

Eventually it became too much, and when it did Xiao took his anger out not on his family, not on the people who had failed him, but on any classmate who antagonized the vulnerable child.

Fights became a regular part of Xiao’s life until university, and it was only in meeting his mentor, Zhongli, that the lost young man had managed to pull his life together.

Things made more sense after that, though one couldn’t say that everything was right with the world. Students, coworkers, the particularly idiotic TA, all of them still carried the sense that Xiao was not to be trusted. You could see how it upset your partner sometimes, when he was ignored at the coffeeshop or excluded from class group chars in the like.

Whenever he did that Xiao tended to retreat into himself, as if worried he might explode again. It took a lot of coaxing to get him out of such situations but it was always worth it to see your partner’s expression soften, to see his small smile once more.

What you didn’t tell him was that you were just as angry as he was, just as resentful at the people within your major which were hellbent on acting like they were still in high school.

Eventually however the trials of your early were utterly forgotten, the questions and the secrets replaced by a sense of slightly hilarious domestic bliss.

You were definitely the brains of the group, something Xiao didn’t seem to mind - though he probably would find that actual statement somewhat silly.

Xiao, on the other hand, held the esteemed position of Person Who Actually Got Stuff Done. You relied on him to get you out of your mental spirals, to pull you out of your room and out of your brain fog and to get you to do something; even if it wasn’t the thing you were thinking about.

In return it was your job to make sure Xiao didn’t get himself killed doing something stupid.

Xiao’s reticence masked an almost supernatural recklessness. Though your partner didn’t own a motorbike, if he had you were completely convinced he’d ride one without a helmet. His almost total disinterest in his own safety was something that you brain shrunk from, and more often than not a crazy plan of his would end with you listing the terrible things that might happen if something were to go wrong, even if those things weren’t always the most realistic.

There was a storm in twenty minutes? It was the perfect time for a walk! There was cavern nearby with tunnels were so tight you had to walk single file? Sure why not!

He would talk about such things as if there was nothing to it, as if it didn’t send your heart rate spiking. There wasn’t the slightest acknowledgment of danger. Even his tone was as gruff as usual, as if it was the most natural thing to want to go mountain climbing, not interesting enough to get even a little excited about.

It was probably good he did martial arts. You didn’t even want to think about where all that energy would go otherwise.

Xiao’s straightforward nature came out in softer ways too, ways that you envied much more than his full-steam-ahead recklessness.

He was never afraid to state what was on his mind. Whether it was correcting a waiter who got his order wrong or telling a rude doormats to fuck off, all these things were natural to him.

To be honest you completely envied that aspect of him, unable go replicate such a mindset in yourself.

When you’d commented on it once Xiao had stared oddly at you. After a moment he told you that he figured it came from his background. Sometimes you had to learn how to say “no” or “that’s wrong” or “you’re a shitty person.”

Just as you tried to curb the most extreme parts of Xiao’s recklessness, so too did Xiao work to bring you out of the spirals your mind went down sometimes, and so did he try to coax you out of the overthinking that kept you from asserting yourself in your life.

Saying you two were complete opposites wouldn’t really be accurate. You shared similar views, similar passions, similar opinions on what mattered. Yet it was true that, in some ways, you complemented one another. And when it came to those traits in which you differed, well you would like to think that your differences just made you stronger as a couple.

Maybe your friends couldn’t understand how you two got together, or why you were so deeply in love with the person you’d chosen to be your partner. But you didn’t care.

You loved Xiao with all your soul, and, at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

#genshin impact fanfiction #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin xiao #requested #headcanons #my writing

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palbabor-writes · 3 years

Text

Adhesion

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x Fem!Reader

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

Words: 8,915

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not too surprising, judging from his appearance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I’m here for the TA session.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah. I–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But today? Today takes the cake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, that’s right; he’s close.

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

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

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

“W-what?” you sputter, trying to quiet your pounding heart and steady yourself, upended by his short-lived…seduction? What exactly was that?

“Already told you, got some place to be. Send me the screenshots, if you wanna’, but I’m prolly’ not gonna look at them until after the weekend. Well, see ya’ around, (L/N).” And, with a last wave, he snatches up his backpack and saunters out the double doors, leaving you alone.

“So what are you thinking? Just go up to the dean’s office and ask to file a report against him?” your boyfriend questions, his voice hazy and distant through the filter of your earbuds. You’d called him a few minutes ago, once you had a good signal and filled him in on, well, most of the details.

After Dabi left, you’d gathered up your things and paced the floors of the library, debating your next move. He’s not doing his job. That much is a fucking given. You’d even talked with a few of the other students in your class the other day and they all said the same thing: He’s lazy and he can’t be bothered to help. Apparently, you’re the only student who had one on one sessions with him, but the group meetups sound worse. They told you he usually just opened the textbook and asked them to copy down definitions, and those were the days when he showed up for the meetings.

“Yeah, and today he really outdid himself. The jerk basically… well… he’s not doing his job,” you flounder at the omission of Dabi coming onto you. If you’re honest with yourself, he hadn’t really done much, and you’d been the one who was surging forward, suddenly tempted by his closeness, his scent, and those rippling sets of tattoos and bright blue eyes. No. Stop it. It’s the last straw, you remind yourself, shaking your head and refocusing on the familiar tone of your boyfriend’s voice.

“I’m sick of it. Midterms are coming, and I’m not about to let him hold the fate of my GPA in his stupid hands.”

“Go get em,’ love! You’re totally right, you’ve worked so hard and you shouldn’t have to put up with some middle-aged asshole’s antics. It’s been a crazy week for you, so dinner’s on me tonight. Wherever you wanna’ go, name the place and I’ll make sure we get a smile back on your face!”

That… that’s so like your boyfriend. He’s always so sweet and caring. Always looking out for you, ready to pick you back up and dust you off each time you feel you’ve fallen short. He’s perfect. He’s all you want, all you need… right?

Goddamn it, you think after you hang up your phone and hop on the elevator that will whisk you up to the dean’s offices, you’d almost kissed your TA. Here’s your boyfriend, being the most supportive and loving thing in the entire world and all you can think about is how fucking good Dabi’s cologne had smelt has he leaned over you. Some partner you are.

The dean’s office is emptier than you expected. There’s a single secretary, who is sitting behind a low desk, twirling a dark lock of hair and skimming over the pages of a magazine. She looks up when you clear your throat and a practiced smile lifts her lips.

“Hey there! How can I help you?”

“I uh, need to file a complaint against someone in the College of Sciences,” you explain, dropping your heavy backpack from your shoulders and scratching at the back of your head balefully. You’re likely not the first one to file a grievance against the Dabi, so why are you suddenly bothered by the idea? It’s not going to get better. Just remember all the shitty, half-baked sessions he’s made you sit through (Y/N) and get this over with.

“Oh! I’m sorry to hear that! Let me grab you the registry of TA’s and adjunct professors,” the secretary chirps, pushing her rolling chair across the wooden floors to snatch at a heavy binder on a shelf.

“I can, um, just tell you his name. If that makes it any easier,” you quietly reply, one foot tapping agitatedly against the other. What is this uneasy feeling that keeps zinging through your mind? It’s going to be an anonymous complaint. It’s not like he’ll ever see it. He likely won’t even know it’s you. Some of the other students had discussed the idea. He could think it’s one of them, not you.

“No, no,” the secretary replies, sliding the binder across the glass counter of the desk. “It’s no trouble at all! Just search for their name and fill out all the particulars on the university system. Doing our best to reduce waste! Gotta keep that paper trail down! We’ve got a little kiosk outside, close to the elevators. It’ll help you with all the details, just click on the form and it will file it into our online system. The dean’s office closes in fifteen minutes, so be sure to bring the binder back as soon as you’re done!”

“Uh, ok,” you mumble, hefting the thick book into your hands. “Do you want me to take it with me, or just look it up here?”

“You can take it out there! It’s sorted by department, for ease of use, so it shouldn’t take you long to find them.”

Great.

You lug the binder to one of the many empty tables outside the sliding doors of the office. Slipping your backpack into a vacant chair, you flip through the lists and sections. Chemistry, chemistry… ah! Okay, you’re in the right section. Now to find Dabi, should be easy enough.

Yeah, no. There’s no one in here listed as “Dabi.” What the hell is this? Some kind of elaborate scheme? Is he just a random student who’s fronting as a TA? It would explain some of his general disinterest, but he knows more about molecular chemistry than anyone you’ve ever met, and that skill isn’t exactly a common parlor trick.

Oh? My secret talent? Well, I can tell you about isotopic labeling and the exact timing of the reaction speeds! Wanna hear more?

No. No one does. Plus, the professor had introduced him to the class on the first day. He knew him and Dabi’s not exactly inconspicuous. There’s gotta be something you’re missing.

You close the heavy book and make your way back into the office, fingernails tapping out a disjointed pattern against the plastic of the binder. “Hey, um, sorry to bother,” you begin, tilting your head and biting your lip at the secretary’s beaming face.

“No bother! Did you find them? Everything work okay in the system?”

“No. I, uh, couldn’t find their name? He said his name was Dabi, never gave us a last name so, um, that’s all I have to go on,” you explain, placing the binder back on her desk and praying she’ll give you some kind of explanation.

“Ooh! Dabi! Sorry about that, he’s a special case, since he goes by his nickname. He’s under the adjunct section. I believe his last name is Todoroki,” she twists the book toward herself and flips through the pages at an alarming rate, eyes skimming over the names.

“Here he is! Touya Todoroki! They don’t put nicknames, or preferred names, since it’s an official listing. He’s a brilliant man and one of our brightest junior professors. I know the university is hoping to snap him up this coming semester, get him on track for a tenured position.

He’s a little unconventional, but he’s a super nice guy and… oh! Wait a minute, you wanted to file a complaint against him, right? I’m so sorry, here I am, running my mouth! You want a pen and paper? So you can jot his university number and info down? Lets me keep the book in here. Four minutes to closing after all, might as well save you the trip back.” She whips out the procured sheet of blank printer paper and a university stamped pen, holding them both toward you, a friendly smile still crinkling her eyes.

“Thanks,” you sigh, a little bewildered by her chatter. From the sound of it, Dabi’s got some university backing and is a ‘nice guy’. Coulda’ fooled you. Doesn’t matter, you think, crossing the t’s of his first and last name; he’s likely just skimming by on the promise of tenure, and the sooner the school knows about his lackadaisical attitude, the better.

You’re typing in Todoroki, Touya when the secretary closes up the office of the dean, flicking off the lights and waving a goodbye to your tensed expression. A few minutes later, the elevator swallows her up and the only sound that fills the empty space is the clacking of the keys as you finish typing out your complaint.

Alright. Got most of the minor points out of the way.

Inattentive to the lessons, frequent absences, missing materials, smoking in the library; you’ll leave out the mention of weed, it’s not like you can claim innocence on that charge yourself and you’re not looking to have the guy arrested, just stripped of his TA status. You could mention the near kiss, but it feels too vague, and it’s not like he made a move on you. No, all that shifting forward rests squarely on your own shoulders. Damn it, stop thinking about that! You’ve got a boyfriend, someone who loves you, who’s going to take you to dinner! Hit complete and get the fuck outta’ here, before someone–

“Whatcha’ doing?”

His voice makes you jump half a foot into the air, your right knee contacting the protruding keyboard of the university kiosk. “Fuck,” you hiss, twisting around and hunching over at the bright spots of pain that flash across your vision as you rub your fingers over the hurt. The soft footfalls of his approach snap you out of your dazed reverie and your head snaps up, eyes widening at the sight of him.

He’s got a loose fitting white shirt on and you can see the coiling of his tattooed muscles under the thin fabric. His chin is lowered and his eyes are distant pinpricks of blue flame in the low lights. Booted feet take a few more steps toward you, but he pauses beside the table that your backpack is sitting on, hands sliding into his dark jeans, waiting for your response. You gulp back your nerves and lift your eyes to his, hoping some of your ire and defiance will shine through. “I’m putting something into the system,” you reply, your voice holding steady as you re-straighten your spine.

“Can see that,” he counters, head tilting, dark hair falling to one side of his soft jawline. “Why are you doing it up here? This is the College of Science’s dean’s office. Most people don’t come up here to adjust their university login. So let me ask you again, whatcha’ doing, Ms. (L/N)?”

“Filing a complaint,” you snap, fingers curling into tight fists, shoulders rising and fall with your quickening breaths. That’s right, asshole, and it’s a complaint about you. How do you like that? Not much you can do about… about it now…. oh, shit. Fuck.

You haven’t hit the enter key.

The fucking e-document is just sitting there, unattended and completely vulnerable. He might not have seen that you haven’t sent it through and if you could just step a few feet to the right, then you can slip one finger against the keypad and hit that all important “enter.”

You look up at him again, praying he won’t notice you scooting your shoes backwards, doing your best to keep him wholly focused on your face. “What did you expect?” you taunt, eyes narrowed, arms wrapping around your back, fingers unconsciously stretching out, feeling for the lift of the keyboard. “You’ve been shit. Midterms are in a week and half of the class says you’re not showing up for their sessions. Don’t look so shocked. This can’t possibly be your first run in with something like this? No wonder you go by that silly name, Dabi. What’s the matter? Upset that I know your actual name now?”

As you ramble on, his face has dropped all pretense of blank civility and now his entire body is hunching forward, shoulders curving, hands pulling free of his pockets and coiling outward, reaching, palms tilted upward.

“So much fucking talk (Y/N). Looks to me like you forgot that last step. Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing,” he begins, a wicked grin twisting across his lips, not quite reaching the glare of his narrowed eyes. “Ah, babe. Why you gotta be this way? Make you a deal, huh? Walk away now and I’ll forget the whole thing. No repercussions, no questions asked. Never even saw you up here, scout’s honor.”

The keyboard is close; you can hear the hum of the monitor, buzzing as it holds the screen with your complaint against Touya Todoroki steady, waiting for your inspection, for that final command. Dabi is close, his looming form heavy against your wide eyes, but it’s now or never. You’ve got to turn around, got to let the predatory lumber of your ill-appointed TA slip from your mind, you have to do this. It doesn’t matter what kinda promises he’ll make to you. That changes nothing, absolutely nothing.

Now! Do it now!

You whirl around, hands shaking as they search for the right keystrokes, the right submission link. It feels like minutes have passed, not seconds. Even though you’ve pressed all the buttons and heard the computer chime, a sent message alert into the sudden, reverberating silence, you can’t take your eyes off the burning gleam of the screen. Not until that thank you pops up.

He’s still behind you. You can hear his boots as they click across the wood. His movements have slowed, but he’s still advancing. It’s too late for you Dabi, you think, watching as the submission page fades to a pleasing orange, the school mascot waving a large “Thanks!” as it dances, close to the bottom of the page. You did it! There’s nothing he can do. Nothing that–

His powerful arm drapes across your stiffened shoulders, his wrist popped beside your face, fingers dangling lazily into the open air. “Ahhh,” he sighs, leaning over you, resting his head beside yours. You half turn your face to see him, aghast that he’s so close again, that he’s touching you, holding you in place with his weight. His muscled side presses against your back, leaning heavily into you as he gives you a rakish smirk. “Well, looks like we get to do this the hard way.”

“What the fuck? The hard way? What does–hey! HEY!” He’s stepped away from you, and that arm that was braced over your shoulders shifts to the back of your neck, ramming your face down into the keyboard, mashing out a random string of commands. Your nose stings from the impact and your eyes wince shut, protecting themselves from the threat of the black letters.

“Warned you about sending that,” he replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. He’s stroking a hand down your head, tangling his long fingers in your hair, pulling at the strands until you’re groaning in pain. “Now we have to do this another way. Gotta even the score, don’t we? Need to make sure you’ve got some kinda blemish on your record, too! I know that secretary filled you in on my upcoming tenure. No way she didn’t. She’s a fucking leaky faucet and I know you had to ask her about my name to fill out that complaint. No, no. We gotta fix this, babe.”

His voice has dropped into a terrifying lower octave, his words sharp, barbed, lancing into your mind like a showering of sticks and stones. He fucking sounds like he’s seconds away from losing his goddamn mind. The hand that’s wrapped around your hair is tugging against you in earnest, jerking your neck away from the threat of the keyboard, forcing you to look up at his leering face. The pupils of his eyes are blown, the black eating away at the shine of the blue until there’s almost nothing left. His teeth are bared in a grimace and his cheeks are pinched, making the silver of his piercings stand out against his flushed skin.

You do your best to gasp out another set of questions, but he’s yanking you back, holding you against his broad chest and wrapping those ink sleeved arms around you. They coil over your stomach and across your breasts, digging into the globes and heaving them under his forearms. His lips are tracing over your arched neck, teeth nipping against your bared pulse.

“You always smell so good, babe. What are you wearing? Hmm?”

“W-what… get off me! You sick fuck! Why are you… ow… damn,” you whimper as he sucks a bruise into your skin, gnawing and pulling until you’re writhing in his arms. You keep attempting to slip away, to shift your feet forward, but that mouth of his won’t let up. Each time you shake yourself free from those quick pants and hums he’s dashing across your neckline, he moves to another spot, or his hands cup and squeeze at your heaving chest and shivering waist, distracting you.

“Mmm, this is unexpected. Looks like you just might enjoy what’s about to happen,” Dabi teases, licking a wet line under your jaw. “Come on, let’s go somewhere a little more private, shall we?”

You exhale a shuddering breath and remain perfectly still, hoping your feigned submission will lull him. Thankfully, it works. He chuckles and spits something out about being a ‘good girl,’ but when he moves back, his arms unlacing from you, you stumble forward, one heel raised, cracking down over his booted feet with as much force as you can muster.

Dabi hisses out a string of low curses, his body coiling over itself protectively. You do your best to squirm out of his grasp, but one of his broad hands reaches out for you, snatching at your leg and forcing you back to him. The sudden shift jolts you off your feet and you tumble to the wood, your palms skinning against the uneven surface.

“Stop it!” you shout, kicking your feet, trying to dislodge his iron grip.

“Kick me again and I’ll knock you out,” Dabi threatens, lowering himself to your level and jerking you underneath him, trapping you, bracing his knees on either side of your hips.

“Fuck you,” you screech out, bucking upwards, trying to dislodge his weight.

“That’s the idea,” he croons, long fingers curling under your clenched chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Can’t say I didn’t warn you and stop acting like you don’t want me. You were practically salivating for me this afternoon. I bet you’re already wet. Let’s find out, hmmm?”

His other hand drifts to the clasp of your jeans, flicking past the barrier of your button and dipping his hand into your pants. His touch lingers around the elastic band of your panties, yanking and teasing at the seam as he works your zipper down. Unconsciously, your traitorous hips roll under him and he gives you a sharp grin, blue eyes blazing. “There you go, babe, just relax. Don’t worry, I’ll make it good for you,” he whispers, his voice catching as his touch slips downward, tapping across your curls and snagging against your slippery folds. “Maybe… ahhh… look at that,” he moans, a satisfied grin lifting those tempting lips of his.

His middle finger brushes between your quivering flesh, gathering droplets of your arousal onto his finger pad. You choke back a staggered breath and your head flops weightlessly against the floor as you arch pitifully into his hand. One of his nails digs into your clit and faint stars pulse over your eyes. “S-stop it,” you stutter, unable to control the shiver that echoes up your spine.

“Tch,” Dabi scorns, adding the pressure of another finger. “Figures,” he continues, his mouth dropping into a pleased smile as you writhe under him. “I thought you liked being difficult. You’re so fucking cute when you’re mad, you know? So what happened to all that vigor, (Y/N)? Not gonna struggle anymore? I’m disappointed, I was hoping you’d keep it up.”

“You’re disgusting,” you snap, your fingers lifting from your side, grabbing the loose collar of his shirt and jerking him to your waiting lips. You can feel the lift of his grin, but he allows the caress, sharp nose digging into your upper cheek. This is wrong. So fucking wrong. But, if you have to endure it, it’s only fair you get a little bit of enjoyment out of this sick power play, so you nip at his lower lip, giving him soft presses and sharper pulls. Dabi, for all of his earlier barbs of prowess, is a bit taken aback by your sudden interest, his hands cupping at the back of your head, urging you on each time you maneuver away from his open-mouthed kisses.

“You want to fuck me here? Right in front of the elevator?” you question breathlessly, fingers coiling into his dark hair, carding through the rough strands until he’s groaning above you.

“Nah,” he pants, pulling away from your lips and leaning back. His fingers are still working their way against you, but it’s not enough friction and you wriggle under him, slipping him from your clit. “The fuck are you doing, babe? You gonna try and make a break for it again?” he laughs, pulling his hand from your pants and licking at the faint sweetness that you’ve left for him.

“Why bother?” you reply, twisting your neck, your head dragging over the grains of the flooring. “You’re just going to catch me. I don’t know my way around this part of the building, so even if I got away, you’d only find me and I don’t really like being tossed around. Not good for me, you know? Why do you care? I thought you said you were gonna fuck me?”

“Oh, I am,” he assures you, one hand snagging under your chin, forcing your eyes to lock onto his. “Just wanted to know what changed.”

“Nothing,” you barb, tugging your chin free and fixing him with a pointed stare. “This whole thing means nothing. I’ve got a boyfriend, and he’s buying me dinner tonight, so, just get through this and I’m free to go, right?”

“A boyfriend,” Dabi muses, knees tightening around your hips. “Should we call him? I’d hate to think how he’d feel about all this. Knowing that his girl is letting her TA take advantage of her this way.”

“Hmph,” you snort, arms bracing under you, pushing yourself upward, doing your utmost to level this shitty playing field he’s laid out for you. “Like you give a shit.”

“You’re right,” he affirms, hands snatching under your arms and pulling you out from under him. “I couldn’t care less.”

His office is small.

You keep a sharp eye on the door, watching to see if he locks it. Fingers crossed, he’ll get himself off and that’ll be the end of this. But that tone he’d shifted into, when he’d told you that you’d need to fix this, to erase the complaint, to walk it back, that made your spine tingle and skin prickle. There’s something else, something he’s not telling you, he’s a smart guy, there’s no way it’s this simple. He’s paced behind his desk, fiddling with something in one drawer, his eyes lifting to observe you each time you shift on the couch he’d gestured for you to sit on.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your voice a dull monotone. You don’t care, you remind yourself, hands wrapping around your stomach. No matter how good he looks, or how skilled his fingers are, you don’t care (Y/N) and it’s pathetic that you have to keep reminding yourself of that.

“Just making sure everything is ready,” he answers, eyes flicking over you. “Take off your pants and shirt, but leave your bra and panties on.”

“Huh?” you question, shoulders tensing as you glare up at him. “Why?”

“Does it matter?” he responds, closing his desk drawer and stepping back to you, kicking his boots and socks off as he gets closer.

“I-I guess not, but I don’t understand why you–”

“Don’t worry, I’ll explain it all when I’m finished,” he reassures you, kneeling on the floor and propping an elbow against his tattered couch. “You can make a show of taking your clothes off, I won’t mind.”

“You’re revolting,” you snarl, curling your fingers over the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric up.

“Mmm,” Dabi agrees, one palm rising to run over your exposed skin. “Whatever you say.”

“Ugh,” you grunt, popping your hips up and yanking your jeans down your long legs, not wanting to give him too much of a viewing as you pull them along your calves and onto the floor.

“Cute,” he murmurs, one finger racing along the lace of your panties, curving around your hip and onto the soft skin of your ass. “Oooh, did you wear these just for me?” he asks, cupping a broad hand under your soft skin and tugging it into his palm. “Love a girl in a thong,” he murmurs, fingers pressing and lifting into the plush flesh.

“Stop it,” you groan, lifting your hips up, depriving him of his lecherous grip. “I’d never do anything for you.”

“Always such a stuck up little thing, let’s see if I can’t change your mind,” Dabi laughs, pushing you back and splaying you against the haggard cushions. His long fingers hook under the band of your thong and steadily work it over the curve of your hips and down the line of your calves. Instinctually, you clamp your thighs together, rubbing against the ache that’s budding between your clenched legs.

“Come on,” Dabi encourages you, slapping his hand against your round thigh, smoothing his palm over the redness that he’s left behind. “Open up babe, let me see you.”

“Don’t, ah—” you bite out, leaning away from his ravenous gaze and bracing yourself on your elbows as Dabi leers over the sight you’ve been forced to open for him. He glances up at you for a single moment, the blue of his eyes ensnaring your attention and leaving you gaping against the cushions. Seconds later, he’s diving between your spread thighs, his curious tongue lapping over the exposed folds of your cunt.

He slows his licks as he passes by your clit, pausing against the bud before wrapping his lips around the nub, sucking a swift rhythm over you. Your feet rise from the floor to brace against his broad shoulders and you coil your hips upward, urging him on, your head falling into the swath of pillows that rest under your neck. Tense fingers wrench into the cushions and you give a soft gasp, your lips stumbling over his name.

“What was that?” Dabi asks, lifting his head from your curls, lips wet with your slick, his blue eyes watching the contours of your face.

“Fuck you. I-I know… I know you heard me… D-Dabi,” you moan, hissing when he brings a digit against the quivering ring of your entrance.

“Dabi, huh?” he ponders, letting the edge of his fingernail tease over you. “Don’t know if I like that. I think I’d much rather hear you screaming out my name, my real name.”

“What?” you question, popping your head up and giving him a blank stare.

“You remember,” he grins, poking out his tongue and dragging it over you, smiling as you buck under his hands. “Come on,” he taunts, sucking at your clit again. “I know you know it. Go on, say it for me.”

“Wha-what’s wrong with Dabi?” you smart, bracing your feet against the couch and forcing him to insert his wavering finger, digging it forward until it hits the second knuckle.

“Nothing, I just wanna’ hear how the other name sounds. I want to know what it’s like when you’re choking on it, barely able to gasp it out cus’ I’m making you feel so good. Come on, (Y/N), indulge me, huh?”

“Fine,” you huff, legs trembling as he shoves another finger into you, curling them upward, poking and prodding until you’re squirming. “Keep going. Make me cum all over your mouth, Touya.”

“Oh, fuck,” Dabi hisses, his teeth catching over your clit. “That sounds real nice, baby.”

His lips seal over you again and he drags another finger into you, stretching you until you feel you’re close to bursting. It’s a low ache he’s working up, but you love the burn. It’s not like your boyfriend can’t do this, but you’ve never worked up the courage to ask. How do you even go about that? Hey, I want you to pin me down and… no. That doesn’t matter, you remind yourself; fingers sinking into Dabi’s black hair, pulling him closer. You just need to get him off and get the hell outta’ here. Don’t think about it. Just relax and get this over with.

“You need more, don’t you?” Dabi questions, tilting his head and cracking one cerulean eye open, watching as you writhe and cant under his skillful hands.

“I-I just need…” your voice fails you as he resumes that suction, tugging your engorged clit between his sharp teeth and giving you a few rapid fire nips. “Al-almost, just… keep… oh fuck…” you sigh, thighs tensing around his dark head. His fingers speed up that sinful drag and he wriggles them forward with each push, tapping and stroking over the spongy patch of nerves within your cunt.

Then, right when you’re breaths away from a mind blowing release, he yanks his fingers from your sopping pussy, laughing as you pant and whine for him. “Ahhh, come on babe,” he sneers. “Why would I reward you when you’ve been such a fucking pain?”

You openly gape at him, your eyes blinking back dots of frustration and distant flashes of lingering starlight arousal. “What the fuck,” you pant, shifting away from his slicked lips and crossing your legs. “Wh-what what was that for?”

Dabi pushes himself onto his haunches, licking the last traces of you off of his fingers before digging his hand into his jean pocket. He returns with a small remote and waggles it in front of your aghast expression. “Got all I needed,” he informs you, flicking it toward a bookcase. You swiftly whip your head to the shelves and spy the tiny camcorder resting above the topmost set of books.

“You fucking ASS,” you screech, hands reaching for the dangling remote, not caring that your sopping pussy and half naked breasts are on full display. Dabi hovers the remote above the two of you, cracking that all too familiar grin over his thin lips.

“So, about that complaint,” he taunts, scoffing at your desperation, leaning on his heels to watch you scramble up from the frayed pillows of his couch.

“Y-you, why… I… give me that! You can’t record me without my permission!”

“Awe, babe,” Dabi barks, his laugh echoing around the small space. “Too bad for you, huh? I don’t need two party consent.”

“That’s for phone calls,” you bite out, finally snagging his wrist, yanking him toward you.

“Who said the video was on?”

“You fucking jackass! That’s why you wanted me to say your name!”

“Calm down, I won’t release it if you walk back the complaint,” Dabi counters, letting you pull him closer, his lips teasingly reaching for yours. You dodge his touch and fix him with a pointed glower, nose wrinkling and brow furrowing.

“This sounds like a well oiled routine,” you accuse, dropping your hold on him and crossing your arms over your exposed stomach.

“Tch, you jealous?” Dabi sneers, cupping both of his hands under your bent elbows, forcing you to lean into his hold. You shake your head at his accusation and grit your teeth, tilting your face away from his seeking touch.

“What are you going to do about this part? Where I’m yelling about what a son of a bitch you are?”

“Edit it out,” Dabi informs you, lips latching onto the hollow of your throat, teeth worrying your tender skin between their grasp. “Again, if you walk back the accusation, all of this goes away.”

“What if…” you pause, biting your lower lip and shrugging Dabi off of you. He leans away, bright eyes studying your face, pausing at the dip of your lips, following the pink indentations that your teeth leave behind. “What if I wanna’ fuck you?”

“Oh?” Dabi hums, nose flaring, making those three tiny piercings gleam under the low light of the moon that’s streaming through his window. “Now you wanna’ fuck me? You sure about that? Not that I blame you, I’m pretty good, pretty big, too.”

“Ugh, don’t say shit like that,” you reply, lifting a shaking hand to his neck, tracing your fingertips over the indentations of his tattoos.

“Hmm,” he groans, already leaning into your touch, his skin prickling under the gentle strokes of your fingers. “One condition. I get to record it. This time with the video on.”

“Fine,” you confirm, coiling your hands into his inky hair. “Never know, you might want it for later.”

“For what?” Dabi asks, yanking himself away from your intoxicating strokes to jerk his white shirt over his head. You shake your head at his question, not wanting to think about the ramifications of this situation, distracting yourself with the new patterns and whorls of dark ink that are bared to you. He twists back to the camcorder, hitting a few buttons before tossing his remote across the room, the plastic clattering over the wood.

You can just make out the outline of wisps of blue flames beside his ribs when he kicks his pants and boxers down, finally lowering the curtain on the dip of his hipbones, displaying his straining length to your ravenous gaze. He’s covered in piercings. A silver Prince Albert is gleaming at his tip, catching the drips and bubbles of pre-cum that are hovering against his slit. His cock curls proudly toward his stomach when he releases it from the thin protection of his boxers and you catch sight of the Jacob’s ladder that climbs up his impressive girth. Unconsciously, you gulp in a swift breath and shake your head, not wanting to show him your wavering uncertainty.

He’ll undoubtedly be the biggest cock you’ve ever taken, and you’re not sure that he’s stretched you out properly. He’d paused too soon and you can still feel the shuddering echoes of your faint brush with release travel up your spine as you gape at him. It’s not enough… it’s not…

“What?” Dabi questions, one black brow arched. “Worried I’m too big for you?”

You’re about to respond when he shoves you down and maneuvers you sideways, stretching you along the cushions, his hand a steady pressure against your windpipe, choking out any reservations that threaten to escape your lips. He’s on top of you seconds later, the sheer weight of him pinning you under him, and you let out a whine when he spreads your legs, popping the brittle muscles of your hips in his rush.

“I’ll make you like it,” he promises, looming over you, his lips tracing up your neck as his hands dig under your back, unfastening your bra and stripping you of your final defense. “You’ve got a nice rack, babe,” Dabi praises, lowering himself, ghosting over your peaked nipples, tongue lapping out to dip over the puffy areola.

“Stop saying shit like that, I might think you mean it,” you snarl, throat catching on your gasps of strained pleasure. He sucks one stiffened peak between his lips and suckles, hard. The pressure makes your back bow off the cushions, fingers reaching for him, clawing and scratching your way down the muscled plains of his back.

“Mmm,” Dabi groans, popping his lips free from the distraction of your nipples. “Do that again, but put some effort behind it.”

Well, why let him down now? You dig your nails into him, yanking until you feel his skin part under you, splitting from the drag of your touch. “Fuck, yes,” he grunts, his hips jerking into you, blindly seeking your entrance. “I’m gonna fuck you,” Dabi warns, teeth biting the hollow of your neck. “I’m gonna fuck you until all you can say is my name.”

He blindly reaches for your hips, two fingers searching for your cunt. Once he finds it, he grasps the swollen length of his cock, jerking himself a few times, splashing his hot pre-cum against your inner thighs. There’s no warning, no call for preparation, or a quick kiss, instead there’s just the heady press of his hips and the weight of his length as it splits you in two. Your neck arches off of the cushions and your hips fall away, shying from the keening sting that he’s thrusting into you. A low hiss slips from your lips and your toes curl, legs unconsciously wrapping around his thin waist, heels digging into the soft dip of his back.

“F-fuck,” Dabi chokes out, hands bracing themselves over the swell of your hips. “You’re fucking tight, babe. Goddamn it.”

“Dabi,” you moan, curling upwards, praying he’ll give you a few more seconds, positive you’ll shake yourself to bits if he tries to move now. Your hand finally lifts from his back and makes its way toward the crest of your thighs, desperate to tweak and roll your pulsing clit. Once you’re inches away, one of Dabi’s hands unlatches from your waist and snatches your seeking fingers away. “Don’t you dare,” he warns, lips rising to suck against the lines of your neck. “Only if I tell you,” he continues, warm tongue dipping and licking over your ear. “Understand?”

You nod, still reeling from the steady stretch of his cock as he tugs it out of your sopping cunt. It pricks and bites and your heels do their best to restrict his movements, pinning themselves to his lower back and grinding down. He ignores your hints and starts a steady push and pull within you, the rungs of his piercings catching on the edge of your leaking pussy. Each thrust snags against a piece of you that sends a scattering of sparks and stars over your vision and you coil yourself forward every time he yanks back, anticipating that ignition, that ache, as he braces himself to slip into you again.

“How the fuck are you still so tight?” he complains, hands jerking your chin upward, demanding that you kiss him. The bittersweet sting of pain is still too close for you to get into his caress, so he soon gives up, finally settling the pad of his calloused thumb over your clit. “Is this what you need?” he asks, hips lancing into yours, picking up the pace of his ruts. You nod as your teeth chatter, a thin slip of drool escaping your parted lips. Dabi grins at your overwrought expression and his tongue laps at the traces of saliva, nose pressing into your skin, his hisses of exhaled air hot against your cheek.

“You’re getting real tight (Y/N). Wanna cum? You wanna’ cum on my dick?” he asks, his voice shaking with effort, trying to ignore the insistent envelopment of your slick cunt. “Hey, come on, answer me!”

His deep pitch of exasperation snaps you out of your stupor and you fix your hazy attention on him, closing your swollen lips and giving him a cruel smile. “I don’t think you’ve done enough,” you taunt, a laugh bubbling from your throat. “Looks like you’re gonna cum first. Turns out you’re not as impressive as you think, huh, Touya?”

He’d usually ignore you, keep pressing and teasing until you’re putty in his hands, but it feels too good. It’s too much. Your fucking cunt feels like heaven and he can’t help himself, thrusting and pounding into you like he’s fucking fifteen again, all hormones and no finesse. There’s nothing he can do to stop himself, it’s too good, it’s just too fucking good.

With a half-formed groan he spills into you, his cock pulsing and swelling, hands bracing themselves against the swell of your hips, lifting you to him until those dots leave his vision. “Fuck. Fuck, that was… you were… God. That felt so fucking good.”

You sprawl under him, your eyes languidly meeting his as you crack a sly grin. “Ahhh, Touya, like I said, you were so close. Too bad. Thought you’d last a little longer. Haha! Maybe next time, hmmm?”

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @evesmores

notes: editing always takes me so long :((((

#dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #university au #bnha dark fic #tw: violence #TW: cucking #tw: dubcon #tw: drugs #tw: bribery #tw: teacher/student #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: recording #libiraki #my own personal fic exchange #well bribery #bnha smut

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