#listening intently to whatever Echo is saying

[goldenstring6123]

a quickie request LISTEN LISTEN HEAR ME OUT…… sylus fingering reader so so so hard and fast with his long ass fingers and you’re arching up in pleasure and he’s breathing into your mouth, hard against your thigh….. 🌚 (sometimes my own thoughts remind me i have no shame 🙏)

Sylus: Putting you to sleep

Warning: 2.3k word Smut, 18+ only! MDNI, AFAB!reader, reader may or may not be the mc, Fingering, Nipple play, slight begging, quickies (?)

Author's note: hehe, this ain't a full blown sex yet but here ya go!

"How long do you plan on staring, sweetie?" the tall silver-haired man lowered his balled fists to his hips, promptly turning towards your figure, which leaned by the doorpost. You dawned on messy hair, a tight black undershirt, and night shorts. It took him no less than a second to piece that you just woke up.

"Couldn't sleep." You stated.

Sylus shifted his weight to the other leg. "Would you like me to do something about it?" sincerely, he offered, yet his ruby red eyes flickering with roguish intent.

"Is there anything you can do?" You can't help but ask. With Sylus offering to aid your sleepless fatigue a million thoughts raced through your mind. He could knock you out to sleep, or maybe he'll ask you to spar with him. Whatever it was, you were ready to turn him down.

"Of course. What kind of lover would I be?" He took his sweet time undoing his wrist wrap; meanwhile, you took your sweet and ample time to approach the boxing ring. Everything else was by far dim apart from that platform.

It was silent. Any sound echoed in the combat room, reverberating against the metal posts and cement walls. It was 2 am, and not a single soul was in sight. You weren't sure if you were scared that you were both alone or at peace because Sylus was with you.

He took off his black undershirt and threw it aside shortly after; he hopped down with a large thud and stood before you, his broad figure looming ominously.

"Sylus?" you called. He moved his hand and flicked his fingers behind you. The only source of light that made you see is now gone. A few seconds more, as you feel Sylus' hands slither around your exposed waist, a silver moonlight peering through the windows turning red.

You wanted to say something, but you dared not do it.

His touch was warm as it dragged against your skin, leaving a stinging heat in its wake. Soon enough, another hand landed on your body and thighs, gliding like paper. Softly, Sylus' fingers traversed the top of your thighs, sliding lower and lower until he grasped the underside of your thigh.

Sylus yanked you closer, your thigh upwards. A muffled gasp erupted from your lips the moment your chest pressed against his torso. The heat that emanated from his body made yours tingle, yet to the touch, it was wet and slippery from the sweat of his workout.

"You're unusually quiet," He whispered against your ear. His teeth nibbled the lobe of your ears. A shiver traveled down your spine, sensitivity only then being realized. You didn't want to reply. You were on a thin thread between tiredness and lasciviousness; you no longer had the energy to deal with other feelings.

Once in a while, it was all right to let Sylus take the lead.

He grinded his body against yours, rubbing every surface of your body. The thin strap of your undershirt falls down to your shoulder as if taunting your partner to pull it off further. Sylus could feel your breasts against his abdomen. Supple and soft, your nipples slowly work themselves against the cloth.

You heard shifting from around you, and you could hear the clothes and cushions gather near your footing. Sylus buried his nose in the crook of your neck, placing a wet kiss near your collarbone. He pushed you back, and you fell onto the soft mattress and fabric. Sylus knelt in between your parted legs, one hand on your knee and one on the side near your waist.

Your chest heaved up and down, cleavage well exposed as your undershirt became more and more rumpled against your body. Your stomach was exposed, and your shorts were rendered practically useless with how you felt, as if you had nothing on. You couldn't help but blame it on your lover as well, his glowing eyes staring at every crevice of your body as he methodically planned on how to devour you.

Sylus didn't want to waste any more time. He took advantage of your parted lips and crashed it against his own. His tongue asked no permission and entered your mouth, the sluggish muscle probing, prodding against your tongue. He tasted like wine. You were intoxicated. He needed to explore you again. As if it was his first time. Grunts escaped his mouth, reverberating as he savored the taste of you.

Your chest burned. It yearned for air, yet the depraving sensation sent your body on edge, sending pulses to your very core. You let out moans as Sylus parted his lips from yours. His hands were back to where it was: on your body. Teasingly, his long fingers slid under the stretchy cloth of your cloth.

He was taking his sweet time. But you were impatient.

You hurriedly lifted your undershirt over your chest, the chilly yet dry air finally blowing on your breasts. You grabbed your lover's big hand and guided it to your left breast, the thing fitting in his grasp all too well. You could see him smile even in the dark. "Don't tease," you demanded.

His hands began to work, to knead. Sylus basked at the feeling of your lithe tits. He brought his mouth lower and lower through the sloppy and wet kisses, from your collarbone to your cleavage, and in one second, he suckled on your breast.

"haah…" You let out, arching your back at the electrifying cold of his tongue against your perked nipple. His tongue flicked up and down, threading lightly on your sensitive tip before sucking. That was enough to make you elicit another moan.

His spare hand traveled lower and lower, this time slipping underneath the garter of your shorts. He used his EVOL again, and the piece of apparel slipped off in one swift motion, leaving you in your underwear.

Two fingers danced on top of your lingerie, circling your pelvis before languidly trailing lower, just above your clit. "Hng…" you could feel the finger brush past it, pressing your entrance lightly through the cloth. "Why do you…Ah—" He flicked at your clit and nibbled at your nipple. "—Keep on teasing?"

He hummed, offering no form of response. His two fingers finally showed some generosity, fully pushing against your clit while ever so slightly rubbing left and right. Your muscles tensed every time he rubbed; you couldn't help but puff out your chest as well, feeding it onto his mouth more.

The rubbing turned circular, fast, rushed, meant to make you nearly scream from the electrical bolts of pressure that traversed from your pussy, down to your legs, up to your breasts, and to your neck. You were trying your best to keep still, but with Sylus playing with you, it seemed like a farfetched goal. "Ah…Mhn!" He pulled his finger away and tore off the last remaining cloth that covered your lower parts.

You felt his fingers glide up and down the inside of your folds, brushing lightly on your entrance while also hitting your clit. He was doing it lightly to slather your own slick across your cunt and let a thick coat of slimy translucent liquid form a thin sheet over it.

You twitched at every sensation— Sylus had always been good with his hands. Be it with a weapon or with you. His long fingers can make you heed his command; at times like these, you let yourself submit. Then, without warning, Sylus slipped his middle finger in your hole, burying it until his knuckles touched your entrance.

"AH?!" Long. His fingers were fucking long!

In some sort of way, when he pierced inside you, it rubbed your g spot, which made you arch your back once more. The finger inside you curled up, pressing against that overly tender and hot walls of flesh that hugged it tightly. Your lover was generous enough to start with shallow thrusts. Yet, you could still hear the crude, squelching noises. As a few seconds pass, his light, shallow thrusts become more and more aggressive, pulling in and out, stretching the ring of your entrance.

Mewls and moans escaped your throat no matter how hard you tried to swallow it in. It did not help that the sounds you were making echoed around the training room, making you hear how you sounded.

Another finger slipped in, and that's when you felt the stretch. Sylus' finger moved in sync, hooking onto that one sport that made you tremble. He scissored his fingers and opened them wide, stretching you out too. The palm of his hand slaps against your skin, imitating a weak slapping sound, yet with it comes the squelch of your juices, overflowing out of your womanhood and trickling down to the mattress.

You gripped the cloth and cushion, hoping it could anchor you down, and it did its job somehow. Waves of pleasure overcame you as he continued to thrust, occasionally rubbing your clit with his thumb. You twisted and turned, even threatening to close your thighs at the sheer pleasure, but Sylus wouldn't let you.

He kissed you in between actions, muffling out your cries and slipping in his tongue without consideration. You were on the verge of your own sanity, the only sensation left being the quick pooling of pleasure at the bottom of your stomach. You were nowhere near your climax when he pulled out of you quickly.

"No! Sylus!" You cried, pushing yourself up to look at him. Under the red light, you saw him move his hand again, and you were suddenly enveloped by the dark mist of his evil, pulling you up and settling you on Sylus's lap.

You rested your arms on his broad shoulders, placing your weight on your knees, which were spread to his side. Slowly, the discharge in your pussy began to trickle down your thigh as nothing was plugging it up.

"Sylus—fingers." You demanded, biting his ear. He happily obliged with your requests, and soon enough, three fingers were pumping up your hole. His movements were erratic, switching between shallow and deep thrusts while simultaneously applying pressure on the tip of his fingers against your G-spot.

Your body twitched, and your eyes watered. To hide your scandalous moans, you kissed Sylus over and over again, him breathing into your mouth as you cried out his name. You could feel his Cock tight against his boxing shorts, yet you didn't want to take it out.

You were more than sure that you couldn't take it. With the state of your body and what your lover was doing to you, you were going to pass out the moment you hit your peak.

Sylus wasn't slowing down. Rougher and rougher, his hands worked with a rigorous desire to help you come. His whole hand was slathered with your juices, his ears filled with your delightful moans, which you failed to hide. His mouth sucked on your breasts, and his nose savored the raw scent of your body. Sylus never gets enough of these, and as much as he would've wanted to pound into it, he was too entranced by the moment.

The tips of your fingers began to heat up, your muscles turning tense as a cold sweat scattered through the back of your neck. Hurriedly, the pleasure pooled in your stomach overwhelmed you, filling you up and churning your core, "Sylus…" You called, almost begging. "I'm close….Mhng!" You throw your head forward, your mouth against his ear, as you no longer hold back your cries of pleasure.

"Ah! Ahnm! Hnng!" You let out.

You felt his thumb rub your clit again, and you bucked your hips forward, his fingers ramming your beloved spot roughly, repeatedly, torturously. You feel yourself well up, the heat in your stomach growing larger and larger the more Sylus rubs your clit. "Sylus…Sylus, Please, Sylus— I'm almost there!" You grabbed onto his hair for dear life, yanking it back before sloppily kissing him.

An electrifying ripple bloomed out from your pussy, making your lower region jolt at his continuous movements. You throw your head back and let out a scream laced with pleasure and desire— You can only see white as your insides throb, clutching onto the fingers that made you feel full.

God, that felt fucking amazing.

As you savored the high of your orgasm, Sylus looked up at you as he pressed his own face against your breast, marveling at the sight of you reaching your peak, reveling the loud and unconcealable thumps of your chest. He kissed your breasts and then your heart, slowly supporting your weight as you come down from your high.

He laid you down on the mattress ever so gently, brushing the sweat-riddled hair that stuck onto your face. Your eyes can't help but flutter shut, still savoring the last remnants of your orgasm. Tiredness washed over your body like the sea crashing onto the shoreline; with it, it brought relaxation and ease.

"Thank you," you whisper as you finally fall asleep.

Using his EVOL for the last time, Sylus gathered the clothes scattered around you and chucked them with his own. His towel from the wooden benches floated, promptly spreading and covering your exposed body. He picked you up, disregarding his own stiff manhood tucked in his pants.

He can deal with that later. For now, he should bring you back to your room and clean you up. The last thing he wants is for you to get sick.

Of course, Sylus didn't do this for free. He never does anything for free. You'd be a fool if you think he did.

Whether you know it or not, he'll make you compensate, and just your luck: he's getting up early tomorrow and more than eager to hear your cries again in the morning.

Author footnotes: With the amount of Sylus smut that I read, I wanted to write him without speaking much, y'know? just focusing on you and not coming up with witty replies to every word you say.Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost | Dividers by cafekitsune & me!

[vivwritesfics]

Marry Me?

She needs a wedding date, someone to fake being her boyfriend, and he's happy to help.

"I need your help."

Daniel Ricciardo loved his best friend. He would have done anything for her. So when she came to him, asking him to pretend to be her date for her sisters wedding, he said yes.

Drinking and dancing with his best friend, he couldn't imagine anything better.

He nodded his head in agreement and opened his arms for her and she fell into them, sigh content. "You're the best, Honey badger," she mumbled as she laid her head against his chest.

"Have you gotten a dress yet?"

Daniel knew before he'd even agreed to go with her that their outfits were going to be matching. His tie, bow tie, whatever he ended up wearing, was gonna match her dress, he knew. His little surprise for the wedding.

Daniel was there a few days later, when her mother called. He turned down the radio in her car and kept quiet as she spike to her mother.

"Hi mum," he heard as he continued to drive. In any other setting, Daniel would have been able to hear her mother's responses. But the low hum of the engine and the sound of the air conditioning kept him from that. Not that he would have been trying to listen in, of course.

"Yeah I got my date sorted," he heard her say, rather exasperated. "Yes, he's really nice. Trust me, you're all going to love him."

There was a pause, her mother speaking as her eyes went wide. "Boyfriend?!" She cried, and her mother continued. "But-" Her mother kept speaking, stopping her from cutting in. "Wait-" And then the line went dead.

Dropping her phone into her lap, she turned her attention back to Daniel. "I might need a bigger favour than you just being my plus one."

***

No matter how many times Daniel told her, she wasn't going to get it through her head that he would do anything for her. He was standing in a Chapel, tie the same shade of green as her dress, for crying out loud! Pretending to be her boyfriend was no big deal.

He'd made a big show of it in the morning, driving her to where her sister was staying. He held her hand, pulled her back into him when she tried to walk through the door. All of her sisters friends cooed when he kissed the top of her head before letting go.

He held her hand through the ceremony. It really was a lovely ceremony, a little cheesy, filled the clichés, but still beautiful. Admittedly, it got a little boring, but that was where Daniel came in.

They thumb wrestled, played rock paper scissors, and other things you'd expect bored kids to do. It didn't matter that they were grown adults, they were having fun.

Daniel held her hand as they headed to the reception. His hand was warm in hers and she thought she could feel a different between his tattooed skin and the skin that didn't have any ink (in reality, she just knew his body that well that she knew exactly where to find his tattoos).

They sat through the speeches. Did it hurt that her sister hadn't asked her to write one? Yeah, it did. But she sat there, Daniel's hand so distracting on her knee.

And then the dancing started. Her sister and her new husband took to the dance floor. It was slow, their entire families watching them. But then more people joined in.

Standing up, Daniel held out his hand.

"We don't have to dance," she said as she sipped her drink.

Daniel took her drink from her hands and put it down. "It'll be fun," he said with his usual charming grin and pulled her to her feet.

One hand holding hers, the other on her waist, Daniel began moving her across the dance floor. "I think your parents were about to ask me my intentions," he said, holding her body against his.

"Your intentions, huh?" He grinned, and looked at her parents over his shoulder. "And what are your intentions, Mr Ricciardo?"

He couldn't hide his grin as he looked at her. "Marriage, kids, side by side coffins, baby!"

Her laugh echoed around the hall. Several family members were looking at the both of them, probably whispering to each other about how cute they were. And they were, his suit matching her tie, the two of them standing too close to be friends.

They just needed to realise it themselves.

[daisybianca]

pairing: lando norris x femalereader

summary: ruining Lando's live stream is your favorite thing to do when in the mood.

warnings: female masturbation, mention of sexual actions, cursing words

(a/n): lando's recent stream look. I'm unwell.

YOUR HEADPHONES WERE filled with the sweet melody of Taylor Swift's "London Boy" and then you remembered that in the next room of the house you really did have a London Boy waiting for you.

Your boyfriend had one of his usual streams, and it was always your choice to step away from the place where he was doing them and not take part in it. You didn't like the idea of giving fans more content about your relationship than there already was.

By changing the song of the playlist, you settled on something more freaky, like the wreeknd.

Hearing Lando's voice and loud laugh echoing from the next room, you opened the app on your phone and joined his live stream.

Your username was a random name that only Lando recognized.

God, he was so hot.

Messy curly hair, an unbuttoned white t-shirt, and grey plaid pants.

He had heard your wish to let his beard grow long, and you loved every moment of it. Watching the screen intently, listening to his strong accent through the device and from the adjacent wall, you felt your heart flutter loudly. Your jaw nearly hit the floor when you saw from the screen Lando laughing at something and pulling back, spreading his legs widly while bending his head back.

Swallowing, you decided to write a message in the comments that only he would recognize "Turn off the Stream and come over here. Im in the mood."

A few seconds later, he read it. He didn't say anything. He just smiled.

Again, you chose to write the same comment in case he didn't pay much attention to it the first time.

"I'm not shutting down the live. If anyone wants to tell me something, they can come here and tell me themselves."

You smiled and turned off your phone.

Is that how he wanted it? With games?

He asked and shall receive.

You got out of bed, opening your closet and wearing the most revealing and slutty piece of clothing you owned. You also put on a pair of high heels and began to walk slowly towards the next room.

The door was closed so you touched the handle and began to open it gently.

Two beautiful eyes met yours. Then they scanned you from head to toes.

Whatever Lando was trying to tell his viewers was now forever gone.

His jaw closed and he licked his lips. His eyes were on the verge of popping out of their sockets.

Bringing a finger to your lips, you murmued "Shhh."

You felt his eyes follow you as you closed the door and sat comfortably on the couch across from him.

You weren't, of course, visible on the camera. And your boyfriend did his best not to show his viewers the uncomfortable situation he was in. He kept talking, but you were sure he didn't understand what he was saying either.

You stopped looking at him and tried to forget the fact that you had to be discreet because thousands of people were somehow in the room with you.

Spreading your legs, you pushed your warm hand where you wished Lando's was right now.

You immediately shuddered at the very first contact. Twisting your body a little, you gave your boyfriend a better angle of your wet--dripping actually--spot.

His eyes never abandoned you. At one point, you heard him hissing plaid from his breath. "Fuck." His voice made you shudder. "Thats it." He said and closed the live show without saying anything else to his audience.

You stopped the movements and touches on your body and looked at him throwing the headphones on the chair and walking briskly over to you.

That's my boy.

"You want to fucking make me come in front of thousands of people? Huh?" He walked towards you and started unbuttoning his pants. You just smirked and bit your bottom lip. "Acting like a little brat, getting treated like one, right?" He grabbed your neck and forced you to him. After taking one huge taste of your lips, he let you down and removed his white t-shirt. "Open your legs. You're lucky I didn't choose to fuck you live, baby."

[some-bunniii]

Lucifer saves you from a cult

・❥ You’re about to be sacrificed for a satanic ritual, until a handsome, charming stranger comes to your rescue.

~9.5k words

x: reader is g/n, no use of y/n. wanted to play around with the cult concept again, but this time much less angsty. had fun with this one, hope you enjoy!

warning: sexual themes, cult stuff

The first thing you remembered when you awoke, blind and dazed, was the thick, musty scent of damp earth. 

The air tasted stagnant on your tongue, as you parted your lips to wet the cracked, delicate skin. Throat dry, quenched of thirst, and stomach growling softly, you lifted your cheek from the cold dirt. 

Where were you? How did you get here?

The fabric against your eyes prevented you from recognizing anything in your surroundings, the only object visibly present was the warm, orange glow that peeked through the blindfold tied around your head. It flickered with life, a dancing light that you could only guess was a lamp of some kind. 

Thin, plastic restraints kept your wrists bound tightly behind your back, dull pain radiating from where they dug into your skin.

Dull pain radiated from where they dug into your skin. For a few moments, you laid perfectly still, using your remaining senses to listen for anyone or anything in the vicinity. Still, you were rewarded with nothing and no clue of your whereabouts. 

Slowly, you rolled onto your back and awkwardly shifted to sit on your knees. You turned your head, facing the dull light flickering softly behind the cloth against your eyes. What now? Head towards the light, or away from it?

Your breath quickened, heart pounding as the situation began to settle in your mind. Someone kidnapped you, bound you, and then left you here in the dark for whatever gruesome fate was coming. Unless this was some kind of weird surprise party pulled by a friend, there was no way whoever was near had good intentions.

Almost on cue, footsteps echoed somewhere far off to your right, closing in on your location. You tensed, holding in a breath as you shrunk to the ground. Then, a second set of footsteps entered the vicinity, closing in on your location. 

They seemed to have arrived somewhere right in front of you, but were obscured by something, perhaps a wall as the footsteps halted. 

“Hail Satan,” A low, masculine voice echoed into your ears. 

“Hail Satan,” the other replied, as if in greeting, “Is the sacrifice ready?”

What did he say? Satan? Sacrifice?

“Yes,” the other hissed with delight, “Once we finish the preparations at the main chamber, we will deliver them cleansed and ready to the prophet.”

Were they talking about you?

“Let's hope this year turns out to be successful, we’ve already sacrificed the lamb already” the other grumbled, shifting beneath a large  “Good job keeping an eye out all night, but Brother Erik has requested your presence. He is waiting for us near the goat pen.”

“Of course. The sleeping agent we used was highly potent, they shouldn’t awaken for another couple of hours,” the man replied, and you heard footsteps receding from the scene, the shuffling of gravel fading in the distance as you exhaled a breath of relief. 

This was bad, really bad. You needed to get out of here, now.

Leaning forward, your forehead hit the ground as you dragged your face across the dirt. The blindfold was forcibly peeled off your eyes, and they flew open as soon as you rose back onto your knees. You blinked, turning your head to observe the strange scene, heart pounding.

Rough, stone walls encircled you, the small torch attached to the wall cast orange light across the room, revealing a row of large barrels and wooden boxes marked with strange symbols. You were in a cave, these strange men dragged you underground? 

There didn’t seem to be anything to break your bindings, and the only way out was a small human-sized gap in the rocks that glowed softly with the same orange light as the torch nearby. Maybe, if you were careful enough, you’d be able to slip away undetected and find a way out. 

Slowly you rose unsteadily to your feet, taking a final, deep breath as you took a step toward the cave's exit. There were definitely torches outside, and from what you could see the walls were still rocky. A tunnel? It would be difficult with your hands bound, but at least it would be lit and you could use the torches as a guide. 

Right as you crossed the threshold, your body connected with another equally firm, but squishy being as they ran into you with surprised oof.

You froze for a moment, your brain kicking into survival mode and your body instinctively using a leg to shove the stranger backwards, before reeling away. 

“Don’t come any closer!” You shouted, and the hooded figure jumped at your outburst, raising his hands towards you and shaking his head vigorously as you stumbled backward. 

“Shhhhh!” He hissed, his yellow gaze practically glowing from underneath the dark hood as he advanced on you quickly, “They are going to hear us!” 

Your back hit the wall, and you winced in pain as jutted rocks dug into your back. That was the least of your concerns though, as you opened your mouth to scream again right as the robed man reached you, before he lifted a hand to clamp around your mouth.

His palm was warm, hot to the touch even as they were planted firmly against your lips. His face was inches from yours, but in the barely lit room, it was just his usual-colored eyes that you could make out underneath the hood. 

“Just keep quiet while I—”

You didn’t give your attacker time to get any closer, before you parted your lips and jerked your head harshly to the side. You chomped mercilessly down onto his skin, his fingers in between your teeth as you thrashed. 

The hooded figure yelped, pulling his hand away from your face with furrowed brows as his gaze flicked from his hand to your angry figure. 

“You bit me!” He cried, rubbing his fingers with a small frown as you rose to your feet, arms still bound behind your back as you glared at him with ferocity. 

“And I’ll do it again!” You retorted, straightening your posture as you rose to full height. 

“Quiet! I’m trying to help you!” He whispered, turning his head to check the open doorway before meeting your gaze again.

“Help me? Dressed like that?” You laughed, your eyes lowering to the upside-down cross tied around his neck and the pentagram sewn on the sleeves of his robe. 

“I know, I know, it looks bad,” The stranger growled at himself, backing away closer to the torch to give you space, “But, if you turn around so I can get those bindings off you, I can prove I’m here to help.” 

“You really expect me to turn my back to you?” You laughed in disbelief.

“If you don’t want to, I can just… leave,” He finally shrugged. 

“Leave?” 

“Yep, out that doorway right there,” he pointed behind him, and the glow from the torch nearby was beginning to reveal his features, and you could see the hint of a smile on his face. 

Was he really being truthful? Fuck, it was a 50/50 shot. You bit your lip painfully, deep in thought. Finally, you sighed, facing the rock wall away from the stranger, your wrists exposed to him.

You felt the hairs on your forearms raise like static, before you felt its familiar, painful tiny shock against your wrists. You flinched just as the bindings snapped, slipping from your raw skin onto the ground beneath.

You gasped softly, freedom finally in your grasp as you lifted your hands to rub at the stinging marks rubbed into your skin.

He was closer, now, but not close enough to cut your restraints. That was odd, did you bite him that hard he backpedaled as soon as you were free? 

“See? No harm done?” He smiled innocently at you, before he backed away to the cave’s entrance. 

Slowly, you followed, taking closer and closer steps towards the figure, mind racing. 

What if you bolted? Pretend to follow the man and make a mad dash for the exit as soon as the chance arose. You could outrun a couple of satanic-worshiping old geezers, couldn’t you? 

Except, he promised to help you, and seeing as you took a nasty chomp at his hand and he was still trying to free you… maybe, sticking close to this guy wasn’t too bad of an idea.

As you neared the entrance, the stranger turned to you, and the torchlight finally lit up his face. You almost stopped dead with shock, as your eyes traced over his features.

His porcelain skin practically glowed in the dim environment, like starlight on fresh snow. You’ve never seen a man so white before, and never so gorgeous either. His supple, plump lips curved slightly at your reaction, a hint of amusement in those odd, yellow eyes that seemed to suck you in without resistance. 

A few strands of sun-kissed hair stuck out from the hood of his robe, and they curled delicately against his forehead, splayed messily. Have you ever seen such blond locks either? 

And, was he wearing makeup? Those rosy-red spots on his cheek looked like a bad application of blush, as they stuck out like twin targets from his pearlescent complexion. Even with those odd cheek spots, it only accentuated his ethereal, otherworldly aura.

“Are you okay?” Pretty Boy’s words broke you from your thoughts, and you stopped mindlessly rubbing at your wrists. You halted right in front of him, his small figure blocking the way as you met his gaze.

“Sorry?” You finally asked.

Slowly, he lifted a finger and reached it towards the painful, thin outline of the tight binds that had bound you for most of the evening. 

“Does it hurt?” He whispered, his brows furrowed with an unreadable expression. Anger? Pity? You weren’t quite sure as you stood there frozen, his finger just about to brush against your skin.

You could practically feel the warmth radiating off his figure, a wave of serenity washed over you, and you made no move to pull away. Your savior didn’t make it very far before he hesitated pulling back his hand before exhaling a deep breath. He reached into his robe and extended a neatly folded twin outfit towards you, beckoning for you to take it.

“Here, put this on. It’ll keep your face hidden as we move.”

You wanted to open your mouth, ask him about his hesitancy, but instead you silently took the garment from his frame and slipped it on. The robe was scratchy, but you weren’t going to complain as you lifted the thick hood over your head and pulled it forward to settle right above your eyes.

“Perfect,” The stranger smiled reassuringly at you, before turning towards the doorway, “Now come on, let’s get going before they notice you’re gone.” 

“Who are you?” The words left your lips as you stayed frozen in place, watching the man intensely as he halted in his tracks.

“Oh, right, let’s rewind here,” he laughed, pivoting on his heel to face you, bowing slightly, “My name is Lou, not short for anything, just Lou.”

Lou. That was a cute name.

“What about you?”

“Get me out of this hellhole, Lou, and I’ll give you my social security number,” you responded dryly, brushing past him to poke your head out of the gap of the cave's entryway. 

“Feisty, aren’t we?” he quirked a brow, his lips curving into a playful smile, “I respect your determination to live.”

You turned your head slightly to shoot the handsome man a glare, before you strained your ears, listening for any of hints human activity.

The tunnels were dimly lit, save for the glow from the torches nailed to the sides of the tunnel. You could hear conversations in the distance, echoing against the tunnel's walls as they reached your ears. Lou stuck his head out next to you, glowing eyes squinting as he stared down the darkened pathways. 

“I think we’re good, let's go,” He whispered, before slipping past you and into the tunnel. With one last, shaky breath, you followed Lou out into the cavernous hall.

“Why are we going toward the voices?” You questioned quietly, inching closer to him for comfort as the two of you strolled down the tunnel.

“Your prison is on the farthest side of the main cave’s entrance,” he replied, turning his head to meet your gaze, “We’ll have to cross through a couple of crowded rooms before we can get out of here, but don’t worry, I know how everything works around here. We’ll be fine.”

You didn’t reply, instead lifting your gaze towards the cave’s ceiling. Jagged, branching rocks hung like icicles above your head, glowing faintly with orange light from the torches below. How easily could these things break off and fall? Would they bring you a quicker death than at the hands of the cultists?

“The cave system goes way deeper than just these smaller tunnels, ” Lucifer continued as he kept pace beside you, “These guys basically hit the jackpot when their founder first discovered the place an odd hundred-something years ago, haven’t let go of it since.”

“They’ve been doing this for a while?” you whispered hoarsely.

How many people have been murdered inside these tunnels, forced to endure such pain and torture just to please some make-believe goat-man that frolics around in a pit of fire and death? The delusion was unmatched, and the inhumanness even more.

“Oh, yeah!” Lou nodded, recounting the memories of his past attendings, “It’s like Coachella, but for cultists. They gather from all over the place to worship beings of indescribable evils and partake in all different kinds of rituals. Much more than just the human sacrifices, like the–”

“–you’re telling me you come here, again and again, to witness these human sacrifices?” Your head snapped in Lou’s direction, an icy glare meeting his widening eyes as he clamped his mouth shut.

“Well, yes—but no!” Lou shook his head vigorously, taking a step backward as you strode forward, anger reignited in your gaze as you bared your teeth.

“How do I know you’re not going to kill me?” You continued to advance towards Lou, pointing an accusatory finger towards him. 

“What?!” He sputtered.

“For all I know, you could be leading me to my death!” Your voice was shaky, the weight of the situation dawning on you with the realization everything here was real, not some crazy dream.

“B-but I saved you!” Lou pressed himself flush against the rock wall as you closed the distance, practically chest-to-chest with the man. He tensed at your proximity, breath hitched with wide eyes at your looming figure. 

“So?” You growled, taking a finger and jabbing him in the chest, and his frown deepened, “This could be one final cruel, sick joke to bring my guard down before you tie me to a stake! Can’t slaughter the cattle when they're scared, right? Or else it poisons the meat!” 

God, he was so good-looking up close. It distracted your verbal attack on Lou just for a moment as you felt the temptation to see how much better it would get if you ripped that stupid hood from his head. 

It felt like some otherworldly power was pulling you to stare dumbly at his perfect features.  As if he was some kind of siren beckoning you to take a closer look. If you did get any closer, however, you’d practically be lip-to-lip with him. Which, if you were being honest, didn’t sound like such a bad idea…

An invisible hand lifted to slap you hard across the face, before waggling a finger at your lack of self-respect. Why were you thinking about this?! You were about to die and the only thing on your mind was how good-looking this guy was!

“I know you’re scared,” Lou’s soft words broke the silence. You tensed, finger still mid-jab against his chest as he met your gaze.

“This must be a lot for you to take in,” he continued, taking a small step forward from the cavern wall, his brows furrowed in anguish, “But I promise, I don't come here to party with these sickos. I sneak in here to save the people that they kidnap, like you.”

Is that why those cultists were hoping the sacrificial ritual would go smoothly tonight? Had Lou been sabotaging their plans year after year? 

The anger drained from your face, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You needed to pull yourself together, lest you wanted some cultist to find you having a mental breakdown or murdering someone out in the open like this. 

“I’m here to help you. Please, just let me help.” Lou continued, and you met his gaze again.

Slowly, he lifted a hand, a gesture of peace, a physical promise that you would live to see morning. You looked at the much darker appendage with hesitation, your eyes flicking to Lou and then back to his hand.

“Trust me?” Lou pleaded, the tone in his voice sounded genuine, and kind as he stared at you with round, puppy-dog eyes. It was becoming increasingly hard to deny such a pretty face, and you sighed softly in defeat. 

Slowly, you reach out and slip your fingers into his palm. His thumb lifted to grip your wrist softly, and you flinched slightly in pain. Lou withdrew his digit instantly, growling softly to himself at your reaction before his fingers wrapped around your thumb and forefinger in an awkward, clumsy handhold.

That familiar, soothing warmth from his touch was welcoming, as it seeped into your skin and sent you another dose of serenity. Your racing heart began to slow as Lou tugged you moving again. 

Then, you heard voices growing louder at the end of the tunnel, near a large crack in the wall that seemed to be an entrance to another cave. Two shadows loomed around the small corner, and you held your breath, head lowered as they came into view. Lucifer squeezed your hand reassuringly, before two matching robed figures strolled past.

“Hail Satan,” the men greeted in unison.

“Hail Satan,” Lou replied in a deepened, masculine tone. Even in such a tense moment, the surprise at how dorky he sounded had you smiling underneath the hood. 

The cultists passed by with no suspicions, and you sighed softly with relief, confidence slowly gaining. As long as you keep your head down, keep your identity concealed, the rest of the cultists won’t question a thing. Not to mention, if Lou was telling the truth about coming here for years, he knew how to best placate these freaks if the time came.

Soon, the two of you came upon a large opening, an entrance to another, much larger cave than the one you had been held in. You could see large flames flickering inside the room, voices reverberating against the rock. A few figures sat near the entryway, but slowly slipped inside the cave as you and Lou rounded the corner. 

The voices grew louder, speaking in an ominous, strange tongue that made goosebumps erupt across your skin. Prayers of some kind as you saw bodies bent low to the ground, all facing something hidden behind the cavern’s walls. 

Sweat was pooling in your palm, and you began to breathe heavily at the proximity of such a large group of robed men chanting softly inside. Their synchronized, baritone prayers rang in your ears, and your heart only quickened its pace. 

An entire room full of these guys? This was a little much. You imagined just sneaking down the tunnel and being home free, not coming face to face with the entire cult. Could you really keep up a believable act that you were one of them? 

Lou’s head twisted to watch you hyperventilate softly, your eyes zeroed in on the entryway as your thoughts raced. His brows furrowed, and his free hand began to dig inside his robe. After a few moments, his fingers wrapped around something small as he pulled his hand out and lifted his head to meet your gaze.

“Here, take this,” Lou extended an enclosed fist towards you, and your brows furrowed just as he revealed the object snug in his palm.

It was a yellow rubber ducky, like those old toys you used to play with in the bathtub. It stared at you with a permanent, frozen-beaked smile, innocent to the dark, sinister atmosphere circling the trio.  

“... What is that?” You tilted your head, smiling slightly at the odd reveal.

“Just a little trinket of my creation,” Lou replied, holding it farther towards you, “I always bring this little guy along with me on trips up here, but I think you need it more than me right now.”  

Your eyes widened slightly, gaze flicking from Lou’s large, shark-like smile–which was weird, but not the weirdest thing you’ve seen tonight–to the rubber duck in his hand. 

Slowly, you reached forward, wrapping your fingers around the toy. Your skin softly brushed against Lou’s as you retracted your hand, before inspecting the little yellow duck. 

Did he notice your anxiety about going inside? You were surprised Lou was being so caring, giving you something personal of his to help ease your nerves. Why would he bring this with him to places like this? Did he bring them for people like you, or him?

You squeezed your fingers around the duck’s little body, and as the air expelled from out of its mouth, it quacked softly, barely echoing against the rocks. You squeezed it again right as you inhaled, and released the duck when you exhaled. Slowly, you began to control your breathing and settle your racing heart. You pushed the negative thoughts out of your mind, before looking up to Lou.

“Did you say you made this?”

“Yes, It’s no big deal, though,” he shrugged bashfully, averting his gaze, “Just something I tweak on whenever I’m bored, nothing special.”

“Well, I think it's… cute.” You said slowly, brushing a thumb over the duck’s head. 

“Really?” His lips curved upward, his eyes moving from your hand to meet your genuine gaze, 

“Yes, and impressive. I could never do something like this, especially making the squeak sound so similar to a quack.” you nodded, matching his smile.

“It does more than just quack!” He said excitedly, a playful glint in his eye, “But first, we have to get out of here.”

You nodded, tucking the ducky underneath your sleeve as Lou turned toward the entryway. You followed him up the large crevice, before slipping inside. 

Tall fires licked at the air on either side of the large cavern. Robed men sat in neat, organized lines, their bodies lowered to the ground, heads bowed submissively towards the large painting on the wall.

It depicted a white-furred goat, standing on two hooves, overlooking a sea of fire that expanded out into the distance. His horns were large, and they wrapped around his ears like a ram as his sinister red eyes stared into your soul. 

Your fingers wrapped tighter around the rubber ducky inside your sleeve, and you tentatively squeezed it. It barely made an audible noise compared to the chorus of voices, and you began to use it as a fidget toy to calm your rising nerves.

You averted your gaze from the painting, head lowering slightly as you scooched between kneeling bodies along the back wall, hand still entwined with Lou’s as he slipped past the robed figures. 

“Is that supposed to be Satan? The guy that rules Hell and everything?” You whispered to Lou, who stopped in his tracks to face you.

“Well, no. Satan doesn’t rule Hell, Lucifer does,” He sighed, shaking his head, “I mean, I understand these people choosing the ugly one to rule a place like that, but seriously, if you’re going to dedicate your entire life to worshiping a guy, make sure you’re at least getting the name right.”

‘I wonder what Lucifer looks like in comparison, but I'm sure anything would be better looking than that thing,’ you thought, glancing back at the demonic goat-man wall painting with a quirked brow.

“Satan would also make a terrible ruler,” Lou continued, turning away from you to continue sneaking through the worshippers, “It would be like putting a pyromaniac in charge of a fireworks facility, chaos ensues… and not the fun kind.”

You weren’t going to question why he seemed so matter-of-fact about that, as the two of you made it to the other side of the cavern, near another exit. 

A small group of robbed men were passing by, and as you scooted over to give them room to pass by, one of them rammed into you, shoving you back by your shoulder to make room.

You were about to turn on your heel and snap at the man, before you felt Lou tug you faster through the remaining crowd.

“Watch out,” he teasingly called to the man behind you, but quiet enough for only you to hear, “They bite!” 

You resisted the urge to elbow Lou in the side, and instead shot him a playful glare, trying to hide the upward curve of your lips. He only snickered softly, pulling you through the exit and out of that dreadful cave. 

“There, that wasn’t so bad, right?” Lou turned to you, smiling softly as he released your hand. 

That comforting warmth left your skin and something deep down whined for his touch again. You shook those thoughts away as you met his gaze, nodding in agreement.

“Yes, I thought they were going to be much more suspicious. Is that the last cave we have to go through?”

“We have like.. two more?” Lou said, partially to himself as he recalled the route, “It shouldn’t be much longer, don’t worry.”

You groaned internally, adjusting the hood around your head before following Lou down the tunnel. At one point, he had taken one of the torches from the wall, holding it in his hand as the two of you walked along the quiet path.

“Do you make anything else than these ducks?” You filled the silence, your thumb absentmindedly brushing against the plastic body of the toy in your sleeve.

“I used to,” Lou replied after a moment, his chipper tone dampening slightly, “More than just silly toys. I once created great things that benefited the entirety of humanity, until…”

“Until?” You prodded gently.

“Let's just say some things don’t turn out how we expect them to,” he replied somberly.

You couldn’t see his face, but you were sure he was frowning underneath the hood. If you would have known that topic was a sour spot for him, you wouldn’t have brought it up. Lou’s face was so handsome with a smile, your brain was prodding for you to do something about it.

You opened your mouth to speak, to say something at least. Words weren’t able to leave your lips before another large crack in the wall, followed by the sound of deep voices once more came into view. 

The opening was glowing a bright orange, a much larger fire flickering inside the cavern as Lou slowed right before the entrance. Thunder erupted from the cave, and you jumped. Listening for a few moments longer, you realized the sound was emanating from large drums inside. They boomed in rhythm with the strange chorus reaching your ears from the entrance. 

They were so loud the floor was vibrating softly beneath your feet, and you struggled to understand Lou when he turned to you, speaking something before slipping into the cave. Hastily, you followed him through the crevice, slipping past the jutting rocks that pulled against your garment.

“Wait!” You wrapped your fingers around the fabric of Lou’s robe, halting his movements rights you passed through the threshold. 

As you stepped into the cavern, the heat from the large fire washed over you, and the rhythmic beat of drums pounded in your chest. The air was thick with the scent of burning wood, and something else indescribable, something primal that made the hair along your arms rise. 

Before you was a scene straight out of a horror movie. Robed figures swayed and danced around the towering flames in the center of the cavern, their movements erratic yet somehow synchronized. Their robes, adorned with demonic symbols and intricate patterns, billowed around them as they moved. 

There were so many cultists partaking in whatever weird, dancing ritual they were performing that the moving crowd stretched to the walls. There would be no slipping by this time, and you gulped softly at the sight.

Lou watched you silently, an unreadable expression on his pretty face as you turned to meet his gaze.

“The fastest way to get through here is to join them. We should hurry, I’m sure they’ve noticed you’re gone by now.”

Join them? As in, dance with these weirdos until you reach the other side of the cave? 

You were about to laugh, pat Lou on the shoulder for the good joke, until you saw his face. It was dead serious, save for the way his lip was beginning to curve upwards into a playful smirk.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I can’t dance,” you shook your head with a humorless laugh, slowly backing towards the mouth of the chamber, “This is crazy, I’m not going out there.” 

The chanting of baritone voices filled your ears as spinning, cloaked figures circled the large fire, completely entranced in their satanic waltz as Lucifer’s smirk widened.

“Don’t worry, I got this,” he spoke confidently, wrapping gentle fingers around your hands as he tugged you forward, closer to the dancing circle.

For a moment you thought of fighting back and ripping your hands free from his grasp, bolting out of the cavernous room and far away from any robes for the rest of your life. Except, you probably had zero chance at getting out of here without Lou, the handsome man dead set on joining whatever kind of hellish scene was in front of you. 

That playful glint in Lou’s eyes only made the adrenaline pump harder through your veins. Something deep inside of you was willing for you to follow the handsome stranger’s command, to prove to him that you weren’t a sack of potatoes he had to heft all the way to the exit. 

“You’re going to regret this,” you frowned, your face as serious as possible as you finally relented to his tugging.

“Is that a promise?” Lou smiled mischievously, fingers gently intertwined with yours as he pulled you into the mass of robes.

As the pulsating rhythm of the chanting engulfed the chamber, Lucifer and you found yourselves swept into a whirlwind of movement. The flames leaped high, casting eerie shadows on the walls as the cloaked figures spun around the fire.

With a twinkle in his eyes, Lou guided you effortlessly through the dance, his movements fluid and graceful. Despite your initial reluctance, you couldn't help but be swept up in the energy of the moment, your body moving in sync with his.

It was as if whatever spell the rest of the dancers were under finally had you in its grasp, beckoning you to enjoy the sacred dance. 

Around you, the cultists swirled and twirled, their voices rising in fervent devotion to their dark deity. You ignored them, your attention solely upon the pearlescent face that was only a few inches from your own, as he spun with you like two seniors soaking up their last high school dance during prom.

A loose rock resting on the dirt floor caused you to stumble on your feet, and you fell backward with a yelp. A firm hand caught you, fingers splayed across the middle of your back as you lifted your eyes to meet Lou’s handsome features. 

“Don’t worry, I gotcha,” He winked, pulling you back onto your feet after a moment. You rolled your eyes playfully, before continuing your rhythmic swaying around the fire. 

As you danced with Lou, laughter bubbled up from deep within you, a sense of exhilaration coursing through your veins. His hand in yours felt warm and reassuring, anchoring you to the moment as you lost yourself in the dance.

Your steps may have been clumsy and slow, but Lou didn’t take notice, his features alight with amusement, as he pulled you closer toward him. 

“See? Not too bad.” He grinned, his chest bumping against yours as he spun you again, and that laughter finally left your lips with a shake of your head.

You lifted your head to stare into those golden orbs of his, a wordless siren’s song taking hold of you again as your eyes lowered to those soft, supple lips of his. 

If the atmosphere around you wasn’t whispering your demise, you might have done something brazen like capture his lips in their own dance. 

“Only because you’re doing most of the work,” you teased instead, a genuine smile gracing your features. 

Lou must have noticed your lightning demeanor, because his eyes only softened and he matched your smile. One of his hands lowered to your waist, and this time you felt you were dancing with your prince charming across a ballroom as he slowed his pace to let you drink in the moment.

For a brief minute, all thoughts of danger and fear were forgotten, replaced by the pure joy of movement and companionship. As the fire crackled and the chants reached a crescendo, you and Lucifer danced on, united in a shared moment of defiance against the darkness that surrounded you.

Your eyes lifted to the other crevice in the cave, the two of you having successfully danced to the other side of the room, one step closer to making it out of here alive. You perked, joy overcoming you as you pulled Lou along out of the crowd and through the exit.

The much narrower tunnel was empty save for the two of you, as your hands hesitantly released each other. Lou walked over to the wall, a torch flickering softly attached to the jutting rocks as he lifted a hand and pulled it free from the tight clasp. 

“Shall we continue?” He smiled, raising the torch slightly above his head to light the way as you caught up to join him.

Your pace was faster now, the night growing darker and the urgency growing every minute you stayed in this underground base of cultists.

The two of you crossed through a few winding tunnels, passing other caves on the route. Some were dark, quiet just like your prison had been, while others were filled with voices and laughter. Thankfully, there was only one cave left you’d need to get through before you could be home free. 

All that was on your mind was to wrap yourself in the soft covers of your bed and hibernate the rest of the week away. After this, you could live without any human interaction for a couple of months, maybe forever. Except... The only company from tonight you wanted to hang on to was Lou’s.

Would it be weird if you asked for his number? Invited him for some coffee at a later time? No, that was weird. He was your savior, not some Tinder match waiting for the first date.

These cheek-flushing thoughts kept you busy for the next few minutes, as Lou guided you through the rocky maze. He was quiet, his eyes darting to every cave opening and corner, his ears straining for any footsteps or lone wanderer. 

The silence between the two of you was peaceful, giving you time to think about recent events.  

“Why do they want to sacrifice me?” You said after a few moments. 

“It’s pretty simple, actually,” Lou started, scratching his chin, “First, they sacrifice a newborn lamb, which is supposed to create a portal from Hell to the living world, so that a demonic spirit can pass through. But, it's the human sacrifice that gives said demonic spirit their powers, enough for them to grant whatever the summoner wants.”

“Have you ever seen them actually summon the Devil?” You tilted your head curiously. 

“..No,” Lou responded slowly, as if he was planning his next words carefully, “But, I’m sure if the exceptionally charming figure were to be around here somewhere, he wouldn't reveal himself until necessary”

“Doesn’t the bible say he was God’s prettiest angel? Unless Hell turned him into some kind of monster, he’s probably still fairly good-looking, especially since he convinced all those other angels to fall with him.”

“Couldn’t be any better than what’s right in front of you, eh?” Lou turned, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You only laughed softly, shaking your head at his antics. You weren’t sure how Lou would compare to the real deal, but you had an idea of who you’d choose as the winner in such a competition.

A few more minutes, and the two of you came upon a tunnel that split off into two different directions. Both seemed identical, and even Lou seemed to be having trouble figuring out the next steps. 

He stood there, eyes flicking from one path to the next, as he bit his nail in thought. 

“Are you lost?” you finally questioned, crossing your arms as he pivoted to face you.

“Me? Ha! No,” He chuckled nervously, lifting his hood slightly to rake back his hair. 

The small glimpse of those shiny, silky strands had you wishing these cultists chose something more revealing as an outfit choice. 

“Okay… so which way?” 

“I—um… let’s see. I think we go… right, yeah! That’s it, we go right.” Lou nodded his head, confidence regaining as he turned toward the right branching route. 

You quirked an eyebrow but made no comment as you followed him down the path. A few more cultists passed by, but they didn’t pay any mind to the two of you as you continued down the tunnel. 

It wasn’t long before you rounded the corner, and the final cave’s entrance loomed ahead. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you practically skipped to the large opening, giddy with joy. 

Lou took place in front of you again, his back brushing against the jutting rocks as he slipped through the gaping crevice, strange noises echoing from the other side. 

“Alright, this is the last one, right through here—”

Lou stopped dead in front of you, his mouth dropping in surprise at the scene before him. You slid through beside him, lifting a brow at his strange demeanor before turning your head to the strange noises in front, before your mouth dropped as well. 

Inside the much smaller cave, was what seemed to be a small crowd of… exposed individuals. They stood and bent around the room, encircling a pile of naked bodies. 

At first, you thought they were dead, until you saw a woman lift her head from the mass, eyes drunk with pleasure and a dopey smile on her features.

Oh… my… god. 

Moans erupted, louder now, as you watched a naked man, ass exposed for all to see, kneel in front of a similarly undressed man, his mouth moving forward to clasp around the other man’s….

Your hand shot up to your mouth, and you swallowed down the bile building in your throat. 

These guys were having orgies, too?!

“Wrong tunnel…” Lou finally spoke, eyes wide at the explicit scene as you turned away with a gag. 

“I’m guessing this is one of the fun little activities you like to join sometimes?” You grumbled, pulling the hood completely over your eyes, hiding from the moaning mass.

The sounds emanating from inside the room were pleasurable, joyous, and everything a nymphomaniac could dream of.

“It’s gotten bigger since last time,” you heard Lou laugh awkwardly, rubbing his neck as he turned to you with a sheepish smile.  

“Maybe, we should turn back. Go down that other tunnel?” You hoarsely pleaded.

“The cave's main entrance is right on the other side, we can't turn back now.” He whined, gripping your shoulder and spinning you to face him.

“I am not partaking in this!” You growled, your eyes glancing at all the exposed skin before squeezing them shut with another gag. 

“I’m not asking you to!” Lou shot back defensively, “But, we just need to sneak through here, and you’re free!”

Freedom. You were almost there, almost home. A bunch of naked strangers weren’t going to stop you from making it out of here alive.

“Fine,” you relented, “But, you go first.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Lou replied sarcastically with a huff, before he turned, straightened his shoulders, and stepped further into the cave. 

Before he could make it any farther, your hand wrapped clumsily around his as you yanked the hood further over your eyes and followed him in. 

You steeled yourself, tense as the view directly at the ground gave you a little peek into what was going on around you. 

Bodies rolling together, in all different positions, some you didn’t even know existed as you bumped into naked man after naked woman. 

“Nothing like debauchery to proclaim your love to the Devil,” you grumbled internally as you stepped over someone’s bare foot that was tangled with another. 

“Ah, pardon me… just gonna squeeze through here,” Lou said, as he pushed past a pair of strangers practically eating each other’s faces. 

You were halfway through the cavern, before you felt sweaty fingers wrap around your ankle. 

Your head snapped to a very beautiful woman, a placated smile on her face as she stared up at you. 

“A pretty face like yours deserves some love, why don’t you come and join me?” She sent you a sultry grin, and your frown deepened.

“No thanks, I'm good…” You started, shaking her hand off your ankle. 

You barely took another step before a second pair of hands brushed against your other ankle, a large hand grazing up your skin and underneath your robe.

“What’s the rush?” The strange man called to you, his hand sliding farther up your robe.

“Hey, get off!” Lou growled warningly, before protectively pushing you behind him as he ripped the man’s fingers from your leg.

The stranger only held up his hands in surrender, before slinking back into the naked mass. Lou nudged you to get moving again, as you listened.

Then, two identical women, twins you assumed, blocked your path. Their large breasts bounced against their chest as they strolled forward, large grins on their faces.

“A new face!” One of them gasped with glee, “Finally, things won’t be so boring around here.”

“Umm…” you started, until the second woman cut you off with a laugh.

“You’ll need to undress first, honey. That’s where the real fun starts.” The lady licked her lips, eyeing your figure hungrily.

“Woah!” Lou cut in, pulling you closer to him, “Sorry, ladies, but we’re just passing through.” 

“Is that so?” One asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“That’s right,” he responded, his tone serious as he tugged you along, and you stepped around the two naked individuals, your eyes set on the cave’s exit only a few more meters away.

Again, you felt hands on your robe as you turned to see one of the women trying to get a peek underneath. You wrapped your fingers around the fabric and harshly pulled it from their grasp, sidling closer to Lou as the two of you zigzagged through.

Your breathing was becoming heavy, as panic set in with all the sweaty, disgusting hands practically groping you, tugging at your robe to remove it. 

If Lou lost his grip on you, would you be dragged into the mass with no way of escape? This was never how you imagined you were going to greet death.

Lou turned to meet your gaze, and he must have felt the way your hands began to shake as he growled again, pushing past you to kick at another man’s grip on your garment.

“I said get back!” He boomed, and you winced slightly at the authority in his voice. It was strong, and it had you wanting to submit to him instantly, like some kind of other-worldly power. 

The others around you also lowered themselves slightly at his tone, but soon they were even reaching towards Lou, who was practically beating them off with bare hands as the two of you backed away. 

“Okay, we’re done here,” Lou huffed beside you, before you felt strong hands reaching underneath you and hoisting you into the air bridal-style.

One hand went to hold you firmly underneath your back, while the other wrapped around the back of your knees, and your eyes widened. 

Lifting your head, you met Lou’s gaze who smiled reassuringly at you, as he began to practically hop across the cultist’s backs to make it to the other side. 

You didn’t mind being carried around for the rest of the escape, especially by such a handsome face. Being so close again, you could smell Lou’s scent against his chest. 

Apples and the faint scent of cinnamon. Your nerves began to settle instantly as you deeply inhaled the scent, pulling the hood over your eyes again to shield your poor mind from the rest of the grizzly sight.

You felt Lou take a couple more steps on solid ground, and the brushing off rocks against your legs as he slipped through the threshold and out of the cave. 

He took a few more steps, and the orange glow from the torches faded, and fresh air hit your neck. 

“Phew, looks like we made it out in one piece!” you heard Lou exclaim, and you perked from his hold. 

Your head lifted, and your eyes met moonlight. Without a second thought, you scrambled out of Lou’s grip as he hastily tried to set you down beside him. You ripped that itchy hood off your head, that cool breeze brushing against your cheeks as you took a deep, refreshing breath.

You were outside, hidden amongst the shadows a few feet away near the small opening in the ground that held sinister, demonic secrets.

You extended your arms, taking in the full moon’s light as it basked you in a pale glow. 

Lou watched you, smiling softly as you greeted the familiar sights of towering pine trees, the overgrown grass, and the distant calls of the owls and other nightly sounds. 

The sounds of freedom, of safety, of home, sweet home. 

“Congratulations,” Lou strolled up to you, and you turned to face him with a large smile, “You made it out alive, with barely a scratch on you!”

“I almost didn’t with that last stretch,” you laughed, stepping closer to him, “Thank you, for saving me from those… people.” 

“I’d never let anything happen to you under my watch,” He responded, nudging you with his elbow, “They were just all enamored by your face, it’s hard to think straight staring into it for so long.”

Your cheeks heated at his compliment, and even Lou seemed surprised by his own words as he averted his gaze, a tint of red mixing with that porcelain complexion. 

“So… this is it? You’re going home now?” You asked softly, desperate that the answer wouldn’t be what you expected. 

“Yeah… it’s about time I head out,” Lou nodded slowly, trying to do everything but meet your eyes as he fiddled with his robe’s sleeves.

Your heart sank a little, your lips curving into a frown at the realization that this was goodbye. 

This stranger, who wasn’t exactly a stranger anymore, lept into the dragon’s lair to pull you out and guide you to safety. You had never met anyone selfless like that, nor had you met anyone so good-looking.

Lou was like your… guardian angel. An ethereal figure who appeared during your darkest moments to lift you, physically and mentally, up from the depths. And now, he was leaving you to flap those wings and disappear into the night.

‘Please stay,’ you wished, as he finally turned his head to meet your gaze. Could he see the desperation behind your eyes? 

You weren’t sure, as Lou stood silently for a few moments, before he lifted his hands and pulled the hood down from his head.

You held in a gasp, the way those blonde strands curled messily around his face, as they practically shimmered in the moonlight. He was drop-dead gorgeous now, and you felt your inner thighs beginning to heat against your will.

Holy moly… could this guy get any hotter?

Lou watched you for a moment, before his brows furrowed, lips pursed slightly in hesitation as if he was fighting the urge to say more.

‘Cat got your tongue?’ you wanted to tease, give the handsome, snow-skinned man a taste of what you could offer if he snuck around just a teensy bit longer.

The words never left your lips though, divulging into another missed opportunity that you’ll most definitely regret later when you were trying to sleep this traumatic night away. 

Lou’s smile faltered for a moment, before they curved back to that charming, heart-fluttering grin. 

“Well, looks like you better get going,” he sighed,  “Even though tonight was pretty crazy, I enjoyed spending it with you.” 

“I could say the same thing. But… how do I get home?” You frowned.

Lou lifted a hand to point somewhere behind you, and you turned your head to follow his finger. Off into the distance, strobes of multicolored lights lit up the city only a mile or so down the dusty path before you.

Your eyes widened at the familiar, towering buildings that dotted the cityscape. The neighborhood you turned down every afternoon to go home every evening practically screaming at you from down the mountain. 

“Wait, we’re this close to my house? That’s crazy, I though—”

The words died in your throat, when you turned to find the spot before you empty. No hint that there was even a man beside you at one point, as the grass swayed softly around you, and the breeze tickled the hair on your skin.

Where did he go so fast? You twisted your head, trying to find a glimpse of the pale figure, to no avail. 

You were left alone, with Lou nowhere in sight. Your fingers tightened around the rubber duck in your pocket soothingly as your heart sank even further. 

Slowly, using the moon to light your path, you turned away from the spot Lou had vanished from, and began to trek down the dirt path.

Finally, you were going home. Although, you weren’t sure whether you’d be able to forget this night any longer, not with that dashing face at the forefront of your mind.

It had been exactly one year since you were kidnapped and taken to that hellish cave. The events replayed in your mind as you entered the large cave opening underground, surrounded by hooded figures that brushed past you as they crowded around a large stone table.

You had kept the robe Lou had given you, washed it a hundred times, before hiding it deep within your closet, never to see the light of day.

Until tonight. When you had risen from your bed, brows furrowed, mind set on one, idiotic plan of action. 

You were going to go back. Back to those twisting tunnels, the smell of damp earth mingled with sinister intentions, and the hypnotic chanting of prayers. 

And, back to that handsome face. 

You didn’t remember when you had become dead set on going back, part of your mind begging you to turn on your heel and leave as you joined the large gathering inside the cavern.

The first ritual of the night was the sacrificial lamb. It cried out helplessly, bound on top of the stone table, surrounded by what seemed to be the leaders of the cult.

Their robes were much more fashionable, tinted with gold as one man in the center raised a large knife, chanting an unknown tongue as the rest of the crowd joined in.

“Satan!” One of the leaders bellowed, “Take this offering as a token of our devotion, and rise to join us from the depths of Hell!”

You lowered your head, averting your gaze at the painful bleating of the lamb as metal met soft skin, the knife digging deep until it twisted the little creature’s heart open from inside its chest.

The small animal’s cries died as blood seeped onto the stone table, a dark red river that flowed across its smooth surface before cascading onto the dirt floor beneath.

As the cultists around you sang praise and talked amongst themselves, you slowly backed away, pushing through to the back of the crowd. 

“Dale, good to see ‘ya! How are the kids?” You heard one merrily ask to another.

When you exited the mass of robes, you inhaled deeply, settling your nerves as you twisted your head across the room. 

Since it was the beginning of the night, the cultists were busy catching up with each other. They chatted away as if they were discussing the weather, instead of their next sacrifice.

Sneaking along the wall, you slipped out of sight and towards one end of the room, multiple paths branching out into dimly lit tunnels.

You stopped, craning your neck to try and find anything to gauge your memory.

This tunnel seemed familiar… was this the way back to your prison? If Lou was right, and they did this every year, then there would be some new, terrified face waiting for death somewhere around here. 

You shook your head. No, it must be the tunnel on the other side of the room. The stalactites on the cave’s ceiling were much longer than the ones you had remembered from last year.

Turning, you took a step forward to check out the other route. Right as you twisted your head, you ran straight into another cultist, and you stumbled back with an oomph at the force. 

“Hey, watch where you’re going!” you growled, as you looked down to adjust your robe.

“Woah! Sorry about that, just got lost in my thoughts,” the familiar, male voice responded, and your eyes widened with shock. 

You didn’t say anything, instead, you lifted your head, frozen in place as the pale figure brushed dirt from his chest as he met your gaze.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just heading to the bathroo—” 

Lou stopped, his mouth agape, as your familiar features dawned on him. 

“It’s you!” his eyes lit up instantly, a soft smile dancing across his lips as he skimmed down your figure, covered with the same robe he had given you exactly one year ago.

Oh, how you missed those pretty eyes of his, and the cute red spots framing his lips. 

“What are you doing here?” He looked at you funny, as if you were crazy for coming all the way back here. 

Which you were.

“You forgot to say goodbye, last time we spoke,” was your reply, as you tilted your head at the man.

“Oh… right. I’m sorry, goodbyes are just not my kind of thing. I wasn’t trying to be rude! I just thought you would be better off if…” he stumbled over his apology, as if you’d turn around and leave forever if he couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse.

Your smile only widened, and Lou’s frown dissolved as you stepped closer to him. 

“Ready to go save some poor, wayward soul?” You whispered, extending a closed fist towards that handsome, pearlescent face.

You opened your hand, revealing that familiar, yellow rubber duck that smiled innocently at Lou.

He reached a hand forward, fingers reaching towards the toy in your palm. Instead of taking it from you, he curled your fingers back up, closing your hand into a fist once more.

“I think whoever we meet will need it more than me,” Lou smiled at you, eyes soft as he drank in your presence.

“Let’s not keep them waiting, hm?” You shot him a grin, reaching your other hand forward to entwine with his, before pulling him away from the crowd.

Lou only chuckled, keeping pace as the two of you sneaked down the tunnel, towards that familiar, sinister prison you had called home only a year ago. 

You were praying the dance lessons you had taken during the year would impress your new handsome, blonde, partner in crime later tonight. 

If not, there was always next year.

y’know i keep saying “this next fic is gonna be short” but it’s obvious my brain doesn’t know wtf that means 😭 like i’ve literally tried to sit down and right plain ol’ headcanons before but i just don’t have a bone in my body for that kind of stuff lmao

but i just thought the idea of lucifer getting summoned to commit evil acts, to then just do the complete opposite and save people is funny af bc my boy is not cool with straight up murder like that.

let me know your thoughts! have a wonderful day 🦢

tags 🏷️

@ohnoivefallen @doodlebob2726 @coleisyn @undertale-is-sansational @nehy019 @mixplara @chewbrry @yellowsubiesdance @airwolf92 @lxkeee @jellybellyrulez @catnoirsleftnut @mbruben-stein @froggybich @moonlovers34 @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @lil-bexie @wings-of-sapphire @the-tortured-poet @enigmatic-blues @bethleeham @blue122 @cherry-4200 @azullynx @luzzbuzz @for-hearthand-home @helluvapoison @th3-st4r-gur1 @concentratedconcrete @cimadreamer @marsenbie @guacam011y @maxiskindahere @purplerose291 @fictional-character-whore @0willowwisp0 @yourlocalgoldenretrieverboy @wpdarlingpan @halo-balo @chipper-chip @lvstyangel @acrazyartist @midorichoco

[lovers-rck]

summary after a day of patroll, ellie come back into your arms

pairing ellie williams, fem!reader

intentional lowercase, +18

☆

"how was patroll?" you asked from the bed, watching ellie come out of the bathroom, pearls of water falling down her hair. she shook her head like a dog, laughing as droplets fell on your face.

"good, i guess" she crawled to where you were, your legs covered by the blanket "we found some canned food, and an old gossip magazine"

"really?" she nodded, sitting by your side and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear "can i see them?"

ellie laughed at your excitement. she was very familiar with your fascination about learning what the world was like before, how people behaved and what they talked about. Ellie wasn't as interested, but enjoyed listening to you talk about anything.

she pretended to forget to tell you that the magazines were picked up especially for you "sure, you can keep them"

"i wish i was there"

she smiled, not wanting to talk about gossip magazines but about you, looking at your face, caressing your cheek "i like you here, where you are safe" ellie moved closer "i missed you"

you leaned in her hand, enjoying her touch "i missed you too" you couldn't help but smile at seeing her, seeing her safe, by your side.

you hated patroll days. you spend the day worrying, not being able to concentrate on your responsibilities and imagining terrible scenarios where ellie doesn't come home.

but she always does, doing her best out there just for you.

after a few seconds, you feel her lips in yours. her kiss is slow and delicate, trying to demonstrate you all the things she is unable to say. you lean towards her body, your hand grabbing her arm, looking for support.

you feel her tiredness in her movements, slows and lazy, it's grip losing strength as the seconds pass by.

"we should go to sleep" you murmured when you saw what direction her kiss was taking "you must be tired" you say, a weak whimper coming out of your mouth, the sound of saliva and lips hitting eachothers echoes in the room.

she groaned and grabbed your neck, kissing you more deeply "im not tired" her tongue assaulted your mouth, making you part your lips to welcome her sweetness.

except that she was tired. she was so damn tired that all her muscles felt numb. she wanted to sleep for a couple of good hours –or days but she also wanted to be with you, doing whatever.

"ellie" you whispered, your words dying in her kiss "it's late" you could hear her agitated breath, her getting more desperate "you should rest" you wanted this as much as her, but you knew that the next day ellie has to go to patroll again until late hours, and you didn't want to be the reason of her lack of sleep.

but ellie was ellie, and she didn't gave up easily. her lips traced a path to your jaw, leaving kisses as clues "can you just shut up and let me fuck you?" she murmured and you gave up, her mouth licking and bitting the skin of your neck. you moaned softly as her hands cupped your breast over the shirt –her shirt— and she start massages them. her touch is hard and possesive, making your tits hurt in pleasure, showing how needy she is.

your hands caressed the back of her neck, your breathing getting louder the moment she grabs the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to take it off your body. she quickly spread her legs to position you in between them, your naked back facing her chest.

ellie tossed her arm over your neck, grabbing your shoulder and pressing your body against her, leaving you immobilized "i really mean it when i said that i missed you today" she says in your ear, her free hand caressing your torso, playing with your nipples as you watch "did you miss me?"

you nod, watching her hand go lower "i missed you too ellie" your voice high pitched as she cup your cunt over your panties.

your whimper when she start making little circles in your clit, feeling your underwear become wet with just a little touch. she spreads your legs and locks them with her own to keep you still and open to her.

her fingers move your underwear to the side, finally making contact with your heat. you inhale deeply when she drags her finger in your folds, collecting all the wetness and spreading it in your clit, filthy sounds fill the room.

ellie's movements are not slow and lazy anymore, her grip in your shoulders is strong and hee fingers move with decision, making you feel like only she knows. she smiles to herself when you drop your head on her shoulder and start to play with your nipples unconsciously, enjoying yourself.

your moans get louder and louder as ellie trace circles on your clit, pressing from time to time, teasing you. you feel her wet mouth in your neck one more time, bitting and kissing after, her moaning softly at your reaction.

something about you being almost naked and ellie being fully clothed get you off, driving you to the edge. she put a finger inside you and start pumping in and out, tearing desperate moans from you "you like that?" she murmure and you nod

you feel her finger curl inside and you have to grab her arm for support, your breast moving slightly at her thrusts "ellie..." you whine.

"tell me what you need" she says "ellie" you continue, too lost in pleasure to even understand a word of what she is saying. ellie decides to add another finger and watch how your cunt swallows her digits with a wet sound, feeling your walls get tight with every thrust. she moves faster and in a matter of seconds you are moaning and whining her name.

"im here" she says, "im the one fingering you babe" she says in a chuckle, her pace not getting any slower "fuck off" you replied laughing and moaning at the same time. ellie leaves a kiss in your head and curls her fingers.

"im... ellie..." your voice is getting desperate, your lip almost bleeding by how hard you are bitting it "i can't"

"you can handle it" ellie gets deeper "cum for me"

your body paralyze when you reach your climax, quickly grabbing ellie's hand to stop her movements, your cunt over stimulated. ellie admires her shiny fingers covered in you, and without a doubt shove them in her mouth, cleaning them with her tongue. you are too occupied with your recent orgasm to react, your head falling in ellie's neck and your body curling into her's.

she takes off her hoodie to put it on you, your limp body obeying her and receiving the warmth of her clothes. she leaves a kiss in your forehead and tucks you under the sheets next to her body, your head on her chest "you are the one who is tired now" she says

"i can't imagine why" you murmur, your eyes half close, relaxing into her warmth "don't forget about that magazines"

she laughed and hugged you more into her "i will not forget you freak" you smiled into her chest "you are obsessed with those people"

"obviously" the cloud of sleep started to posses you "can you imagine not having to hunt to eat?"

"no"

"exactly" you said in a yawn.

[the-monkeies-girl]

imagine confessing your feelings to your ape man and the absolute confusion it would cause because?? Their way of confessing would be courting so the fact that you're sitting there telling them verbally about your intentions and wants from them is just? So strange?

Caesar would definitely take it in stride, he'd be most familiar with it. Stoic in all aspects, he'd let you talk it out even though you're stumbling over your words and trying to express with your hands, broken sign language being used to help emphasize. Crazed eye contact the entire time, Caesar refuses to let that go. And it's even more intense when you finally meet his eyes willingly and are unable to look away yourself.

Noa would sit in silence the entire time, maybe you finally tell him while he's working on something, it takes the attention off yourself so he's not sitting there staring at you and it finally hits him as you draw to a close. He puts down whatever he's working on and looks at you, noticing that you're on the verge of tears. You have to admit to yourself that it wasn't a good time to admit but it felt right to say it to him despite the fear that Noa could absolutely deny you.

Blue Eyes understands what you're saying but he doesn't quite understand the emotions that you are displaying on your face. They're not appealing to look at by any means, but he can't stop himself from staring at you as your expression deepens to a darker red. He won't ask any questions, he won't do anything but let you say what you needed to and then sitting beside him in silence afterwards.

Anaya is listening --- probably really intently but he's trying to come off as nonchalant, almost like he was shrugging off what you were telling him. The Ape is confused by what you're telling him. Why you'd chose him when there were other more... Suitable Chimps like Noa who would fit your needs better. Nothing really makes sense but he still listens. Anaya listens because for the first time, the Echo he's had undiluted interest in is confirming that it's requited.

Koba and you have an unspoken rule where it's never to be talked about. Ever. The only instance it's brought up is the first time and Koba turned it down and almost set it in on fire by his adamant denial that he felt anything towards you other than hatred that was seated in unjust biased towards all Humans. Since then, you've kept it to yourself despite the juxtapose he put you in by giving you such attention in the first place.

[sunflowerwinds]

maroon [h.c]

summary: hazel’s fight with tucker made you realize how much she means to you. caretaking and ass-kicking ensues.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language, violence and blood, reader has a slight panic attack, attentive and kind! reader, making out (for the distraction of course) mutual pining, sweet and fluffy, hurt/comfort (my weakness), women being bad-asses.

word count: 3.5K

a/n: this is both a request and won a poll. that scene still makes me wince to this day. and yes, the title is a taylor swift song. the lyrics, though, have nothing to do with the actual oneshot. i love you all and enjoy <33

You had told Hazel that agreeing to this would be a bad idea. After Tim had approached Hazel with the chance to humiliate PJ and Josie in front of the entire school at the pep rally before the big game, you got a bad vibe from it.

The sound of Tucker’s foot kicking Hazel’s eye echoed ferociously in your head.

It all happened so quickly, you could barely process seeing Hazel’s limp body on the ground. The sight made your stomach turn as you shot up from your seat in the bleachers to check up on Hazel. You glared in the direction of Tim and Jeff and that fucking psychopath Tucker— who you were pretty sure was a thirty year old man.

Everything had already been so tense in the group after PJ had humiliated Hazel in front of everyone. Finding out that PJ and Josie had started the group to get with Isabel and Brittany was an eye-opener to what their true intentions were.

This crossed the fucking line.

You were running over to her still frame, trailing right behind Isabel. You kneeled down next to her ribs, a bit of her blood getting on your jeans but you really couldn't care less.

“Hazel,” you whisper her name, wincing at the sight of her bleeding eye.

No response.

Panic settled in you as Stella and Brittany began to lift her body. Your eyes watered as you covered your mouth at her now blood-stained collared shirt.

“Is that true?” You heard Isabel ask PJ and Josie who had also come down from the bleachers as the staff and the rest of the students dispersed. Her voice cracked at the end of her sentence. “That’s why you started this?”

You whipped your head to the two girls, eyes flaring with anger and hurt for Hazel.

Josie immediately began to protest.

“N-no, not entirely—“

“Not entire—Okay.” PJ cut her off loudly. “Listen guys. It doesn’t matter…the reason that we started this.”

You felt your skin itch with fury as you watched them drag Hazel’s body out of the gymnasium. You couldn't even listen to whatever bullshit excuse PJ had to say anymore. Sylvie began to walk away as did you and Isabel.

All you could focus on was if Hazel was okay.

The next few days, you didn’t leave Hazel’s side. You were at the hospital that same night at one in the morning with Mrs. Callahan in the waiting room and by her bedside when she came out of getting blood tests and prescribed medications. When the group would go over to her house and spend a few hours after school being attentive and showing support, you would stay the night tending to her wounds.

It was night three and the swelling had just begun to deflate, her eye revealing itself just a bit. Mrs. Callahan had been really understanding about you spending the nights as much as you knew you were intruding. She had pulled you aside after the second night to tell you how much she appreciated you and everyone else staying by her side.

Especially you — for a reason she didn’t disclose to.

You were crouched down next to Hazel’s bed, helping her with the eye drops that were prescribed by the doctor. Hazel was wearing one of her grandpa sweaters and a pair of sweatpants. Splotches of red, purple and yellow covered her entire face.

“Hold on, Haze.” You leaned in a little closer to her face to focus on the little opening of her eye.

Hazel had been fidgeting the entire night and you had no idea what had made her this way. She muttered an apology before sucking in a deep breath. You were gently cupping the unswollen side to give you leverage.

You pretended not to notice her untouched eye flicker to your dry lips.

“Are you okay?” Hazel asked as you held the dropper right above the swollen skin.

You merely hummed in response as you were focused on her eye. Hazel waited until you put the instructed amount into the dry eye, making sure they all got in. You couldn’t risk her getting infection.

“Are you sure?” She pressed again.

You set the dropper down onto the tray full of doctor prescribed pills and remedies for her abrasions. Your brows furrowed as you held an expression of disbelief.

“Haze, I— why are you asking me if I’m okay when you got the shit beat out of you?” You emphasized, chuckling in disbelief.

“I know but—“

“Seriously. If it wasn’t for this fucking club, this wouldn’t have happened to you, Haze.” You expressed with more irritation laced in your tone.

You admit that you haven’t been getting the most sleep since the event; maybe three or four hours at best. Your mind was clouded with worry for Hazel’s well being.

What if Tucker gave her a concussion that would damage her brain forever? What if she went into a coma? What if she dies in her sleep?

Okay, and you also tended to overthink.

“Hey,” Hazel’s tone was gentle with a hint of stern attitude.

You hadn't realized that hot tears were leaving your tired eyes. You had been so busy taking care of Hazel that you hadn’t fully processed what had happened to her. Not a single tear had left your face until now.

“He could’ve really hurt you, Haze.” You whisper, raising your hand to wipe away the tears from your hot cheek.

Hazel remained silent as she knew deep down that Tucker could’ve done a lot more damage than she had received. She just didn't think that you cared this much about her; let alone cry for her pain. She noticed your chest rising and falling faster than she’s ever seen in her entire life. Your bottom lip quivered as you attempted to hold back the burning tears that were threatening to leave your eyes.

“I know but I’m doing okay. You’ve helped a lot, okay? More than I could ever ask for.” Hazel reached for your shaking hand, taking it gingerly into her grasp.

You nod, not trusting yourself to talk as your throat ached from how much you were resisting to let yourself cry. Hazel sat up slowly, her back aching and cracking from being inactive all day.

“Hazel, the doctor said to refrain from sitting upright.” You begin to scold her but she waves her hand at you.

“I’m okay. I-I’m fine.” Hazel shut her eyes, letting out a grunt as she adjusted her body so that she was leaning up against her bed frame.

You reach forward to push her falling strands out of her face, frowning at her wincing.

“Has PJ or Josie—“

“No.” You remark, refraining from rolling your eyes. You already knew where that question was going and still had a grudge against the two.

What hurt the most that you knew Hazel was going to forgive them; specifically PJ. You knew that they didn't hurt her directly but none of this would’ve ever happened if the club never existed. Then again, you never would’ve become friends without the club.

You would’ve still been just admiring her from afar as you passed through the halls.

“Why did you stay here?” Hazel hummed.

You suck in a deep breath as you continue the night routine as normal. You grabbed the tube of ointment and began to apply it to the slit on her high cheekbones.

“I didn't like the thought of you being alone during this.” You admit, hoping it didn't sound so smitten. “I am your friend, you know? I care about you.”

Hazel’s eyes followed the natural arch of your eyebrows and slope of your nose as you spoke. You knew you looked tired but it was truly the least of your worries.

“I know. Now, at least.” Hazel replied, her gaze finally locking on your lips.

“You didn't think I cared?” The dip between your brows depended on her confession.

“It’s nothing against you. I never really had good friends before. It’s nice to not have shitty friends for a change.” Hazel shrugs her shoulders, fiddling with a loose string on her pants.

“You deserve good friends, Haze. You deserve so much.” You express, your voice keeps a gentle yet passionate volume.

The thought of Hazel getting mistreated all her life made your chest ache. Her eyes were darting all over your features as you pulled your hand away from her aching face.

“Well, thank you for all of this.” Hazel replied, not knowing how to take all of your kind words.

You breathe out: “Yeah, of course, Haze.”

You almost missed how she began to lean into your body. You cleared your throat as a tension fell over you guys. You stood up from the bed, brushing your messy hair out of your face.

“I’ll head to bed now. Goodnight, Hazel.” You nod, turning your back to her as you couldn't have her see you so bothered by the fact that she had leaned into you.

You didn't want to have high hopes but they were there. Way, way, up there. Fucking cloud nine up there.

But it wasn’t right. Not yet.

The Huntington versus Rockridge game arrived faster than you could comprehend. You were wedged between Annie and Hazel, waiting patiently for the game to start.

Her eye swelling had completely gone down at that point to where she just had deep brushing all over her pale features. You were happy to see her darling blue eyes once again. Mrs. Callahan insisted that you two come to the game. You were reluctant but maybe it could be something better to do other than sulk around and be annoyed at Josie and PJ.

As the announcer began to cheer on the Vikings, you noticed Josie and PJ walking up the bleachers, stopping right in front of Hazel. Your eyes rolled as you waited to see what they were going to say.

“Okay, first off, PJ has something to say to Hazel, so…” Josie starts, panting through her words.

You stare at PJ along with Sylvie, Annie and Hazel. Her jaw drops, not knowing what to say exactly.

“The apology. Do the apology. Do the apology we said.” Josie muttered to her in a rushed tone.

“Okay! I’m sorry that I called your mom a skank.” PJ exclaimed.

When Hazel merely sighed and avoided her gaze, PJ continued. “And I’m sorry for saying that you have no friends really loud in front of all of your friends.”

Hazel looked down, glancing over at you as PJ could tell she still wasn’t satisfied with her apology.

“And I’m sorry for being an asshole a lot of the time.”

You and Annie give her ‘really?’ looks when she says a lot of the time.

“Most of the— All of the time!” She finalizes.

Josie hums in agreement with her best friend.

“And I do think that it's nice you always have notes and then you type them up and email them to everyone…” Hazel rolls her eyes with an attitude because she knows that they’re helpful. You’ve told her this a million times before. “And I really appreciate it.”

Hazel stares at her blankly for a moment, trying to process what she was going to say.

“Do you forgive me?”

Hazel’s smile creeps onto her lips as she nods with a soft ‘yes’. You send PJ a forced grin before paying attention to whatever Josie was talking about. Something about the Huntington players targeting a single player on the Rockridge team and how you all needed some sort of distraction to save the players.

“Oh, now you want a bomb?” Hazel smirks at the opportunity to blow shit up.

You would be lying to yourself if you said your bruised features didn't make her more attractive to you. You had followed Hazel and the group regardless of your feelings towards PJ as honestly, you didn't have anything better to do.

They still were your friends.

You and Hazel were crouched behind the tree across the yard as she had formulated some sort of bomb out of the blue. Where the hell did she even get this shit?

“Is it the red wire?” Hazel said out-loud, uncertainty laced in her voice. “Shit, or is it the yellow?”

You stare at her in shock.

“You don’t know?” You whisper-shouted at her.

“I-I get them mixed up. Fuck.” Hazel replied back in a panic.

Just then, you hear Annie shout from across the field that the game was about to start. Hazel glanced up at you as she hurriedly guessed which wires connected to one another and grabbed your hand in hers. You blushed as she tugged you along, sprinting across the field.

You did not wear the right bra for this.

The two of you jumped into the group's presence, your arm dripping over Hazel’s back as you all ducked from the expected explosion. After a few seconds of silence, you and Hazel looked up to the tree to see it was still intact.

“Hazel, it's not working.” Annie tapped her shoulder.

“Fuck. Fucking…” Hazel grabbed the remote, releasing your grasp to aim it at the explosive.

“Maybe try turning it on and off again?” You suggest as you stare at the metal antena.

Everyone was clamoring over Hazel to see what went wrong. You hear the crowd grow more and more in volume as the football team and cheerleaders begin to hip-thrust.

“Okay, Plan B, we get the cheerleaders to make out.” Annie stated as she got up and jogged over to the squad.

“What?” You ask in disbelief, trailing after her as did the rest of the group.

“Guys! Guys, kiss each other!” You shout over, making crude motions along with PJ, Annie and Sylvie.

Hazel had run up top to the bleachers, shouting at them to makeout from there. It was no use. Isabel and Brittany were still upset with PJ and Josie, ignoring their requests entirely. You groaned as you noticed the Huntington team begin to make their way onto the field.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you muttered before you feel someone shove your shoulder.

It was PJ.

“Go and make out with Hazel.” She instructed, jerking her head up to the bleachers.

“Wha—“

“Just go! Hurry!” PJ was now full on pushing you now, staring at Hazel who had seemed to give up on the cheerleaders.

You run as fast as your legs can take you, calling her name from the distance. You’ve never made out with someone before and this is how it was going to happen?

Fuck it.

Hazel turned to you, asking: “What do we do?”

You grabbed the side of her head, pulling her into a messy kiss. Her hands gripped onto your biceps through your navy sweater, trying to go along with your jagged movements. You could hear Annie telling everyone to ‘look!’ as the slobbery mess became a sensual kiss.

You inhale as you feel Hazel take the reins, gripping your face to show you how to control your jaw. Her tongue ever so slightly grazed your bottom lip, humming at the feeling.

Was she always this good of a kisser? Who the hell has she been hooking up with?

The makeout turned into soft gentle kisses, your smile growing as you pulled her in closer.

“Oh, wait. I’m gay!” You hear Stella-Rebecca say as you pull away with a sigh from Hazel’s experienced lips.

Hazel tugs you back in with a grip on your face, seeming to completely forget about why you were even making out in the first place. Her cold rings dug into your cheeks making you crave more and more of her.

Me fucking too, Stella.

The announcer calls the attention back to the game that people came for, causing you and Hazel to pull away with a soft smack. Her hand was at your waist now, both of you staring at the field of players. You pull away, letting out a nervous chuckle as you begin to walk back down to the track field surrounding the football one.

Hazel followed behind you, seeming to be out of it as much as you were. You had not been listening to a goddamn word PJ was saying as you thought about Hazel’s hands on your face and her tongue in your mouth.

How can you move on from this?

“They kissed on the mouth,” Sylvie stated cheekily, pointing at your flushed figures. “With tongue.”

“Okay, yeah. It was for the good of the school so if anyone is asking, we’ll do it again.” You quip back, trying not to make it seem like a big deal when all you wanted to do was have her back on you again.

Josie turned to you guys, suddenly realizing what Sylvie had said. “When did this happen?”

“There were no other distractions! The bomb didn't work.” You protested.

“They’re gonna spray the field.” Annie muttered.

You would’ve missed it if she didn’t repeat it in a much panicked and louder tone.

“We’re gonna have to run.”

“Fuck, more?” You complained as you ran beside Hazel, the insides of your thighs burning from how fast you were sprinting.

You had kicked one of the players away from Jeff, a flood of adrenaline running through you. Fuck, that felt good.

Josie had taken Jeff into her grasp, tugging him up and off of the grass. PJ had her hands over the sprinkler, ready for the pineapple juice to spray everywhere. You stare across the field at the group of Huntington players, eyes widening in a panic. Stella, Isabel, and Brittany joined by the group's side, too, staring down the rivals.

Were you really going to beat the fuck out of the rival football team with the girl you’ve been crushing on and just made out with? To save Jeff nonetheless?

The main player in the middle removed his helmet, staring the group down. He began to scream at the group which resulted in the group screaming back. You saw a large man run up to you, swinging his leg to your chest.

You dodge the force and grab his calf, twisting it clockwise to hear a loud crunch before grabbing onto his helmet guard and throwing him off of you. You feel a blow to your back to see another yellow jersey player, his helmet in hand.

“Fucking asshole!” You scream before throwing a kick to his crotch and throwing a punch to the middle of his face, blooding seeping onto your knuckles.

You don’t know exactly how so much blood got on you. It had all been one huge blur up until you saw Hazel getting punched in the stomach.

You ran over with a shout as you swung a hard punch into his cheek to throw him off guard. Hazel ended it with a kick to the ribs and another punch to the jaw before he fell to the ground.

Your entire body was aching and Hazel looked so weirdly attractive covered in blood.

“Are you okay?” Hazel asked as gently as ever as she grabbed onto your wrist, leading you to the rest of the group.

“Yeah,” you pant, feeling a burning sensation run up your spine. Definitely not. “I’m okay.”

You had blood splattered all over your blue jeans, running up the sleeve of your sweater with a few dots here and there on your face. There was a collective silence when everyone realized how much damage they had done.

You slowly turn toward the crowd of peers and adults, eyes wide with shock on what had just happened. The sprinklers suddenly turned on and Tim shouted to turn them off once he realized it was pineapple juice.

He slowly began to clap for you and the rest of the girls as the half-dead, half-unconscious Huntington players lay all around you. You let out an awkward chuckle, grabbing onto Hazel’s blood-lathered arm as you lean into her touch. You waved at everyone, snuggling into her maroon-stained shirt.

“So, that was…” You turn to her, not knowing what the fuck to even say about what had just went down.

“We’ll process it tomorrow.” She shakes her head, blood-stained face and all.

“Right, yeah.” You nod mindlessly, slowly blinking at her.

“Did you like the kiss—“

“Are we together now?”

Your question threw Hazel off guard, letting out a soft chuckle as she nervously scratched the back of her neck.

“I mean, I don’t personally just make-out with anyone.” You push out a gust of air, staring into her radiating blue eyes.

“Me neither.” Hazel rushes out, a shy smile on her lips. “So… yeah?”

You nod, laughing out a ‘yeah.’ You look around at the football field now stained with red from the bodies.

“To think, all it took was fucking up some football players for us to get together.” You grin cheekily.

“Oh, I think some of them are actually dead.” Hazel stated as you threw your arms around her neck, more of the blood spreading onto your sleeves.

“Well, the red makes your eyes pop. It’s kind of hot.” You half-joke which causes her to shake her head with a chuckle.

The forgotten tree then exploded, causing everyone to pause in their tracks. The excitement and cheers from the crowd came to a complete halt. You cover your mouth with one hand as the tree caught on fire. Hazel buries her head into your neck, groaning at her failed bomb attempt.

Hazel was right; you’ll process this tomorrow

taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight @imjustapearl @seethesin @matchamilkislover @beabeebrie @curiousshifter101 @uraesthete @fictionalcharacterspecialist @c4llahansgirl @maggiecc @fruitysnackysmain @crvptidgf <33

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

the power of love. ( max thunderman x reader)

gif belongs to me

Strange things were happening in Hiddenville and Phoebe was determined to figure out what caused it. It all started at breakfast one Saturday morning when Max spent a little longer on his hair - something she didn't think was possible. On the weekends he usually slept in but her twin's sleeping habits were the least of her concerns as he left the house just after nine am with a backpack that he had kept over his shoulder after he made himself toast instead of stealing it from someone else's plate.

When he returned in time for dinner, his mood only seemed to have improved. Everyone was stunned when he took plates from their mother, saying, "Let me help with that," and for a brief moment, Phoebe wondered if her twin was replaced with an alien.

A short while after dinner, as he did a few nights a week, Hank continued their training sessions and Phoebe noticed how much attention he was paying to their father, for once not making jokes, just standing with his arms crossed, appearing to be listening intently.

The next day Max stayed in his lair, only coming out for food which he took down to his bedroom. Phoebe began to speculate about where he went yesterday and why he hadn't come out of his room most of the day. When their mother called them for dinner, Max left his lair and Phoebe snuck inside, looking around at the dimly lit bedroom/lair for any clues as to what Max was doing - suspecting he was building a new device.

"There has to be something in here somewhere." She muttered.

"Talking to yourself again?" Dr. Colosso spoke up from his cage.

Ignoring the former supervillain, now rabbit, as she walked to one of the desks, noticing how tidy it was. She looked around the bedroom and realized it had been tidied - impressive considering she had never seen Max clean anything.

"He's definitely up to something." She sighed when her mother called her name and headed upstairs, joining the family at the dining table.

If Max felt her suspicious stare, he showed no signs, talking to Chloe who asked him where he went yesterday.

"The park?" Phoebe echoed in disbelief. "You went to the park?"

Max shrugged.

"You spent all day at the park?"

"Yeah, he just said that. Try to keep up." Billy told her.

When Max finished his dinner he stunned the table into silence as he complimented his mother's cooking and noticed the stares he received when he carried his plate to the sink. "What?"

"Is he possessed?" Nora whispered to her father who was equally perplexed.

"What? I've put a plate in the sink before."

Everyone shook their heads except Phoebe who was more certain that he was up to something. Max took the slide down to his bedroom and while her father was distracted by the television and Nora and Billy were upstairs, Chloe sitting in the kitchen with their mother as she washed the dishes, Phoebe snuck into the lair which was in darkness. She flicked on a light and quickly noticed her brother was nowhere to be found. She climbed onto the rock when she saw the window was open slightly, allowing him to come and go as he pleased.

"Max!" She grumbled, growing more certain that he was up to something.

On Monday morning she woke up early, preparing to confront her twin about what he was doing on their way to school, but he was already gone. Phoebe hadn't expected to see him at school, believing he was ditching for the day, but Max was standing with his friends, typing on his phone. The curve of his lips made her uneasy. He was up to no good. She could feel it.

The opportunity to confront him didn't come until later that night when they finished their training session with their father and she followed her twin into the kitchen, crossing her arms as he took a sip of water.

"What?"

"I will figure it out." She warned.

"Okay…figure out what exactly?" Max asked.

"Whatever you're up to. I can feel it, you're sneaking out of the house and I will find out where you go, Max."

Max chuckled, "Wow, you are really paranoid."

"Ah-ha! So you are up to something!" She pointed at him, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know what you think I've done or what I'm doing but I am completely innocent." He said, holding his head higher. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have totally innocent things to do in my room."

He sipped his water as he walked down the stairs into his bedroom and Phoebe realized that it was the first time she could recall him ever calling his lair a bedroom - used to him arguing that it was a villain's lair where he was set on becoming a supervillain.

She opened the hatch quietly, hearing his voice carry up the slide as he spoke to someone.

"It's not that I don't want to see you - I do! My sister is getting suspicious and I'll lay low for a while until she forgets about it." He paused as the person on the other end of the phone spoke, answering when they were done. "Tomorrow? Sure!"

Phoebe frowned as she closed the hatch. "What are you planning, Max?" She whispered.

The next morning Phoebe did not want to risk Max sneaking off again and woke up early, racing after him when he left for school early and kept a safe distance, hiding behind trees or newspaper stands when he glanced over his shoulder.

He was definitely up to something, given how cautious he was.

Phoebe followed her twin to the high school which was almost deserted at this time aside from one or two teachers. She followed him inside and hid while Max looked around, and Phoebe hid behind a vending machine as his phone chimed.

A smile formed on his lips and he looked at the stairs, beginning to climb them two at a time when a girl appeared around the corner. Max's smile softened as he stood two steps below her, matching her height.

"Hey,"

"Sorry for all the smoke and mirrors." You placed a hand on his shoulder and Max shook his head.

"I understand. Really, I do. You have no idea."

You smiled softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your head in his shoulder as his arms embraced your waist, lifting you briefly. You placed a hand on his cheek as your feet touched the ground, and Phoebe was stunned when you kissed her brother.

Was this his plan? Some kind of love potion?

Your bracelet beeped and you sighed as you pulled away, sending Max an apologetic smile. "Sorry. Duty calls."

"I'll see you later?" He asked hopefully.

You nodded, "I think I'm getting the hang of using a cell phone." You stepped forward to kiss him passionately one last time before running up to the second floor, while Max sighed, hooking his thumbs in the straps of his backpack.

Phoebe stepped out as he turned and his eyes widened when he saw his sister, her expression telling him all he needed to know.

"What are you doing here?"

"I followed you, Max." She explained. "I knew you were up to something. Who is she? A daughter of a supervillain?"

Max shook his head, descending the staircase, "No, and I can't tell you. Just leave it alone, Phoebe. It's better that way."

He walked away and she shook her head as she turned to watch him go. The lights began to flicker, the ground trembling for a few seconds, and she missed the smirk on her twin's lips as he headed to his locker. Phoebe decided to chase after you and demand to know what you were doing with her brother. But all the doors were locked - except one.

She climbed the short staircase to the rooftop and her eyebrows furrowed when she saw no one was there. Deciding to use the extra time before class to check her essay for the fifth time, Phoebe headed to the library, writing in her notebook about the encounter in the hallway.

Max hadn't said your name so she simply documented you as 'the girl from the stairs'. What she couldn't figure out is, was Max tempting you to the dark side or were you pulling him further away from his superhero family and taking him one step closer to his dreams of becoming a supervillain?

That night she waited for Max to sneak out of his window to meet you but he never did. She wondered what happened to change their plans and if he told you that she knew.

The next day passed by uneventfully. Max didn't leave early for school and Phoebe began to question if the plans you had made were called off when she saw Max leaving his lair and raced after him. Tonight she would get to the bottom of it. She was sure of it.

Phoebe was confused as to where her twin was going until he entered the park and realized he had circled around several times in case she was following.

"It's going to take more than that, Max." She muttered as she kept a certain amount of distance between them.

Max approached a statue and you crept up behind him with a smile when his back was turned, and Phoebe was not surprised by your ability to fly, creating enough height to cover his eyes with your hands.

"Guess who?"

"Uh, Wonder Woman?"

You laughed as you removed your hands. "Very funny."

Max turned as you landed on the ground and you smiled when he placed a hand on your cheek, his eyebrows furrowing when he saw the healing bruise on your head.

"What happened?"

"He caught me by surprise. It won't happen again. Although he finally discovered which metal slows my advanced healing ability, it still heals faster than non-superheroes like you." You turned your head to kiss his palm before meeting his concerned gaze. You heard the sound of stones crunching and moved away, looking around alertly. "Someone is here."

Max looked around the park and knew if it was your archnemesis he would have attacked by now, and quickly deduced whose footsteps you heard.

"Phoebe." He grumbled.

You raised an eyebrow at your boyfriend, "Who is Phoebe?"

"My twin sister," Max called for her to reveal herself and you looked between the twins warily. "I told you not to follow me!"

"I had to stop you from joining them." Phoebe held her ground and you glanced at Max.

"What did you tell her?"

"Nothing!" He turned to his sister, "Phoebe, get out of here!"

Your back straightened when your archnemesis appeared behind Phoebe and you pushed her aside, taking the brunt of his heat blast. "Look out!"

You recovered quickly, performing several back handsprings and turning your body slightly, fists clenched as your civilian clothes changed into your superhero outfit.

"Max, take your sister and get her to safety."

Phoebe shook her head, "No, we can -" Max covered her mouth as he pulled her behind the statue as you faced off against the supervillain. "Okay, what is going on?"

Max revealed your superhero name and explained to a stunned Phoebe that you met in Metroburg when he had ditched school to spend the day there and used your shield to protect him from a supervillain's power. You assumed he was a non-superhero and Max was too stunned at the time to correct you, leading him to continue the charade that he had no powers throughout your relationship.

The twins felt the ground shake when you took off into the air and weakened the supervillain with your powers until he lassoed you, the electric shocks causing you to fall to the grass.

"We have to do something!" Phoebe exclaimed.

"I know! I know! Just stay here!"

Max stepped out from behind the statue with the knowledge you could end your relationship for what he was about to do. He believed you enjoyed dating a non-super, someone who could teach you how to use a cell phone or go to the movies with you, teaching you how to blend into a crowd. Max used his knowledge of Hiddenville to give you an escape, even if it was only for a few hours.

"Hey, what's up big guy?" You looked at your boyfriend as you flinched from the shockwaves pulsing through your body.

"Max, run!"

He sent your archnemeses back a few feet using a telekinetic blast and released the lasso around you with his telekinesis. You moved to stand beside him, his twin flanking his other side.

"You have powers?"

"I'm the son of Thunderman." He explained.

Your eyes widened at the revelation, but your attention was drawn to the supervillain getting to his feet.

"You ever fought a supervillain before?" You asked.

"We did help capture Dark Mayhem," Phoebe answered.

You glanced at the twins, your gaze lingering on Max, releasing a shaky breath as you nodded, accepting their help. "Fine."

"This is so awesome!" Max grinned. You swatted his arm and he cleared his throat. "Right, sorry."

You put up a forcefield around the three of you when your archnemeses blasted flames towards you. When he pulled back to try again Max and Phoebe froze his hands and you flew towards him, kicking his chest, knocking him to the ground. You felt a hand pull you back and rolled over Max's back, shielding him as he used his telekinesis to hit the supervillain with a dumpster.

You relaxed your stance when the supervillain was pinned to the ground with the weight of the dumpster and while Phoebe remarked about how easy that was, you put up your forcefield to block the fire spreading from his hands, melting the ice and propelling him into the air.

"Coward!" Phoebe called.

Max had heard enough about your archnemesis to know that he did not want his sister to anger the injured supervillain enough that he came back. He froze her with his freeze breath and you tapped your necklace, your civilian clothes returning - an invention Max had created to grant you less time to worry about a wardrobe change.

"So…" You began, "son of Thunderman…yeah, you kept that quiet." You crossed your arms and looked at Phoebe who was beginning to thaw herself out before meeting his guilty gaze. "Why did you lie, Max?"

"You wanted to forget you were a superhero, and I liked that you didn't know I am the son of Thunderman." He sighed, "I would've told you, you know…eventually. But I just wanted you to know me for me, not my family."

You shook your head, opening your mouth to speak when Phoebe broke free and glared at her twin. You glanced between the two siblings, taking a step back. "Thanks, for all the help tonight." You sent them a small smile.

"Wait -" Max stepped forward and sighed when the ground rumbled as you shot into the sky. Phoebe frowned when she saw him close his eyes in quiet resignation.

The next day he spent his time at school before hiding away in his lair until it was time for another training session with their father. When it was over, Max leaned against the kitchen counter, checking his cell phone, his mood worsening when he saw he had no new messages.

As she observed her brother head to his lair, sulking as he took the stairs, Phoebe discovered the catalyst leading to his strange behavior. Falling for another superhero - a highly respected one despite your young age. She understood why he was changing his habits, and paying more attention to their father during training. She knew she was to blame for it falling apart, although she knew you would have found out about Max's powers on your own eventually, and decided to fix it.

Max was listening to music as he worked on his latest invention when he saw you at his window. He was surprised to see you and hastily climbed onto the rock, opening the window to let you in.

"Hey," You greeted with a timid smile.

"Hey," His eyebrows furrowed as he took in your civilian clothes. "what are you doing here?"

You raised an eyebrow at him, "You sent me a message asking me to come here. You had something to show me?"

"What? I never sent any message -" Max took out his cell phone from his jeans and grumbled his twin's name a few moments later.

You smiled in amusement, looking around his bedroom, and approaching his workbench. "What are you working on?"

"Uh," He scratched the nape of his neck as he followed you, "civilians have this thing called a smartwatch, so I gathered a few spare parts and tried to outdo it."

"Tried?" You sent him a knowing smile and Max grinned.

"And succeeded."

You listened as he put the watch on his wrist and showed you the features. You smiled fondly, feeling the atmosphere shift as he awkwardly set the watch down. "I'm sorry for disappearing like that it -"

"No, I get it." He shrugged off but you grabbed his hand and stopped him from turning away.

"No, you don't." You took a deep breath as you wet your lips, moving to sit on the foot of his bed. "I thought you were just a civilian. I didn't want to bring you into my life because I was afraid of putting you in danger." You clasped your hands on your lap as he sat beside you. "But you held your own. You were really great out there, Max."

Max smiled softly, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks." He cleared his throat, "We made a good team."

You giggled, nodding in agreement. "We did." You looked at your hands and Max wet his lips anxiously.

"I'm sorry for making you believe that I was a non-super." He apologized. "I wanted you to get to know me, so that when I did tell you the truth you weren't won over by my parents."

You shook your head, "I'm over it." You noticed the way his shoulders slumped slightly and quickly added, "No, not you! The fact you have powers. I'll never get over you."

At this, Max perked up and your eyebrows furrowed when music began to play before he could speak and looked over your shoulder as Max addressed the animal in the cage.

"Dr. Colosso?" You stood up and approached the rabbit in the cage on his workbench.

"Yeah, he was turned into a rabbit," Max explained. "And kind of my best friend."

"Kind of?" Colosso shrieked.

You looked at Max with a smile and he hushed the former supervillain who ranted about their friendship. "You are full of surprises."

Max chuckled, raising his arms, "That's me. Surpriso boy - wait, scratch that. Forget I ever said it."

You covered your mouth as you failed to suppress your giggles. "No, I don't think I can."

Max smiled when you leaned against his workbench as you caught your breath. "I'll invent something, don't worry."

You smiled softly when he tentatively raised his hand and stepped forward as he placed a hand on your cheek. "I must confess a secret of my own." You began, earning a curious raise of his eyebrow. "The reason I was so interested in the non-super world is because I wanted to connect with you. You know, when I thought you weren't a superhero."

Max's features lit up, "Really?"

You nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. "Can we start over? Well," You paused as you stepped closer, placing your hands on his chest. "not right from the start."

His other hand rose to your cheek as he exhaled a relieved breath, nodding distractedly, his eyes flickering to your lips. "Yeah, I'd - we should -"

You closed the gap between you and Max wrapped his arms around you, bringing your body closer as he kissed you passionately. You cupped his jaw in your hands, smiling against his lips as you melted into the kiss, matching his intensity.

Phoebe slowly closed the hatch and smiled to herself as she took a seat on the cushion. "The power of love." She whispered as she headed upstairs.

[anniebeemine]

Pink Roses- s.r x fem!reader

This one hurt my heart. So have fun with it!

Spencer couldn't help but smile as he watched you through the glass. You were gabbing with Garcia by the elevators, arms waving animatedly, a big grin on your face. He loved seeing you so full of life, your laughter echoing faintly through the hallway.

Morgan strolled up beside Spencer, catching the direction of his gaze. "You know," he said with a teasing grin, "you should really stop pretending to be fascinated by the glass and just tell her how you feel."

Spencer glanced at Morgan, trying to hide his smirk. "Who says I haven’t already planned something?" he replied, a hint of smugness in his tone.

Morgan raised his eyebrows in surprise before breaking into a wide grin. "Oh really? Look at you, finally stepping up your game. My man!" He clapped Spencer on the shoulder, his voice full of approval.

Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling a rare sense of confidence. "Yeah, I’ve got it covered," he said, his eyes drifting back to you as you continued chatting with Garcia. For the first time, he felt like things might just work out the way he hoped.

As you walked past Spencer, you gave him a polite wave, a small smile playing on your lips. He nodded in return, feeling his heart skip a beat. He noticed the paper in your hand, curiosity piqued as he wondered what it was about. You headed straight for Hotch's office, knocking lightly before stepping inside. Spencer tried to refocus on his work, shifting his attention back to the files on his desk. But his thoughts kept drifting back to you, replaying the moment you walked by, the way your smile lingered just a little longer than usual.

Unable to resist, Spencer glanced up through the glass walls of Hotch’s office. You were standing there, beaming as you talked with Hotch, your enthusiasm apparent even from a distance. He watched as Hotch listened intently, nodding occasionally. The conversation ended with a firm handshake, and Spencer couldn't help but admire the way you handled yourself, confident and composed.

As you exited the office, Spencer quickly averted his eyes, pretending to be deeply engrossed in his work. But the truth was, his thoughts were entirely consumed by you, and the growing anticipation of whatever plan he had in store. As you left Hotch's office, you made your way over to Spencer’s desk, a bright smile still lighting up your face.

"So," you began casually, leaning against the edge of his desk, "we’re still on for tonight, right? You’re picking me up at my place?"

There was rarely ever parking in the small lot behind his apartment. Rather than walking two blocks in the night to the nearest free lot, he offered to start picking you up. This often gave both of you the excuse to let you stay over, ‘accidentally’ falling asleep on the couch together and then being too tired to drive back.

Spencer looked up at you, trying to suppress the nervous excitement bubbling up inside him. "Yeah," he replied smoothly, "I’ll be there at seven. And don’t worry about dinner—the delivery’s already been ordered."

You nodded in approval, clearly impressed. "Nice, you’ve really thought of everything," you said with a grin, holding out your fist. Spencer hesitated for only a moment before meeting your fist with his, the playful gesture making his heart race just a little faster.

"Can’t wait," you added, pushing off from his desk. "I’ve got a few errands to run before then, so I’ll see you later."

"See you later," Spencer echoed, watching as you turned and walked away.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Morgan, who had been quietly observing the exchange, sent Spencer a knowing wink. "You’re on fire today, pretty boy," he teased, a proud smile spreading across his face.

Spencer chuckled, feeling a mix of pride and nerves. "Just trying to keep up," he replied, the anticipation for the evening ahead making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

+++

Spencer couldn’t help but feel a little nervous and, admittedly, a bit ridiculous as he stood on the welcome mat outside your apartment. In his hand was a bouquet of flowers he had impulsively picked up at a little stand he passed on the way over. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his free hand nervously adjusting his tie, as he rehearsed what he was going to say once you opened the door.

Before he could second-guess himself any further, the door swung open, and you stepped forward, only to run face-first into the bouquet. Startled, you took a step back, your eyes widening in surprise before they softened into a delighted smile.

“Spencer!” you exclaimed, gently taking the bouquet from him. “You really didn’t have to—these are beautiful!”

He felt a wave of relief wash over him as you gushed over the flowers. “I, uh, saw a little stand on my way over,” he explained, trying to sound casual but knowing the nervousness was creeping into his voice. “I remembered you mentioned once that you liked pink roses, so I thought these might be perfect.”

You smiled even wider, clearly touched by his thoughtfulness. “Come in,” you said, stepping aside to let him in. “I’ll just put these in a vase real quick.”

As you moved to the kitchen to find a vase, Spencer followed, unable to stop himself from rambling on as he often did when he was anxious. “You know, flowers have this whole ‘secret language’ that people used to communicate with each other over time,” he began, watching as you carefully arranged the bouquet. “Different flowers and even different colors of the same flower can have specific meanings. For example, solomio flowers,” he pointed to a few bright blooms, “mean ‘my own sunshine.’ They’re often given to someone who brings light and happiness into your life.”

You looked up at him, clearly intrigued, and he continued, pointing out the different flowers. “Ranunculus symbolizes charm and attractiveness. It’s often used to convey how captivated you are by someone’s beauty.”

You smiled, a faint blush creeping onto your cheeks as you added the ranunculus to the vase.

“And the eucalyptus,” Spencer went on, his tone softening, “represents strength, protection, and abundance. It’s often used to wish someone well or to protect them from harm.”

You paused, looking up at him with a warm, appreciative gaze. “And what about the roses?” you asked, curiosity dancing in your eyes.

Spencer hesitated, suddenly feeling the weight of what he was about to say. He pointed to the pink roses, his voice growing quieter. “Pink roses stand for happiness. They’re given to someone who brings joy into your life.”

His fingers lightly brushed against one of the red roses as he continued, “And red roses… well, they symbolize love.”

There was a brief silence as the meaning of his words settled between you. Spencer felt his heart race, wondering if he’d said too much, if he’d been too forward. But when you turned to him, your eyes shining with a mixture of surprise and affection, he knew he had made the right choice.

“Spencer,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. “These are perfect. Thank you.”

Spencer held out his hand, his eyes soft with a gentle smile as he stepped aside for you to lead the way. “We should probably go before dinner is delivered,” he suggested, his voice filled with a quiet anticipation.

You nodded, taking his hand and heading out the door with him. The conversation flowed easily between you as you made your way to his apartment, your chatter filling the space between you. You began to ramble about some of the latest office gossip, and Spencer listened intently, even though he never really cared much for it. But when you spoke, it wasn’t about the gossip itself—it was about the way your eyes lit up as you told the stories, the way your voice held a rhythm that he found mesmerizing.

By the time you arrived at his apartment, you were mid-sentence, talking about a partnership at the office that had recently been dissolved due to the couple’s marriage hitting a rocky patch. Spencer opened the door for you, and you kicked off your shoes with practiced ease, placing them neatly on the rack by the door without missing a beat in your story.

“I mean, it’s really not surprising,” you continued as you made your way into the living room, “considering all the tension between them lately. But it’s still sad, you know? They seemed so solid for a while.”

Spencer nodded along, his focus on you as you moved around the room with a familiarity that made him smile. You curled up on the couch, tucking your legs beneath you, and looked up at him expectantly. “So, how was your day?” you asked, shifting the attention to him.

He settled down beside you, taking a moment to appreciate how comfortable and natural this felt. “My day went fine,” he replied, his voice warm with a hint of contentment. “Mostly paperwork and a couple of meetings. Nothing too exciting.”

You nodded, your eyes never leaving his as you listened. There was something so soothing about the way you were with each other, the ease of your conversation, the way you could share the mundane details of your days without feeling the need to impress or entertain.

Spencer leaned back, resting his arm along the back of the couch as he turned slightly to face you. “But honestly,” he added after a moment, “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

You smiled, the warmth in his words wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. “Me too,” you admitted, your voice soft and sincere. “It’s nice to just… relax, you know? Especially after the week we’ve had.

He nodded in agreement, his eyes studying your face with a quiet intensity. “Exactly,” he said, feeling more at ease with you than he had in a long time. This wasn’t just about a dinner date; it was about the connection between you, the growing bond that had slowly but surely turned into something more.

You grinned, your excitement bubbling up as you looked at him. “I have some news,” you began, but just as the words left your mouth, Spencer leaned forward, a determined look in his eyes.

“I—uh—there’s something I need to talk to you about,” he blurted out, his voice overlapping with yours.

You both paused, taking a breath, the air between you charged with anticipation. Spencer gestured for you to go first, but you shook your head, insisting, “No, no, you go.”

He hesitated, his mind racing, but before he could gather his thoughts, you spoke up again, unable to hold back your excitement. “Okay, well, the textbook I’ve been consulting on? It’s really taken off. The other authors loved my contributions so much that they’ve asked me to teach for a semester in Denver—starting in a week.”

The words tumbled out of you in a rush, your smile wide and full of pride. Spencer blinked, taking a moment to process what you’d just said. He felt a surge of pride for you, mixed with a sudden wave of anxiety.

You smiled. “And I’m going. I already said yes!”

“That’s… amazing,” he finally managed, his voice sincere but slightly distracted as his own thoughts swirled. He stood up suddenly, the motion catching you off guard. “But—I, I need to say this now, or I’ll never be able to say it.”

You looked up at him, your smile fading into a more serious expression as you saw the intensity in his eyes. “Spencer, what is it?”

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding as he looked down at you, feeling the weight of the moment pressing on him. “I’ve been trying to find the right time to tell you this,” he began, his voice trembling slightly. “But there never seems to be a perfect moment, so I’m just going to say it now before I lose my nerve.”

Your heart raced as you waited for him to continue, the room suddenly feeling smaller, more intimate. Spencer’s eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the vulnerability there, the honesty he was about to lay bare.

“I’m in love with you,” he said, the words coming out in a rush. “I’ve been in love with you for a while now, and I can't go another day without telling you.”

The room went silent, the only sound your own heartbeat thudding in your ears. Spencer looked at you, his expression full of hope and fear, as if everything he was feeling was laid out in those simple words.

Your breath caught in your throat as you processed what he’d just said, the weight of his confession settling over you like a warm blanket. It wasn’t just about the textbook, or the teaching gig, or any of the exciting changes happening in your life—it was about this, about him, about you and the bond you had nurtured without even fully realizing it.

“Spencer…” you began, your voice soft, but the rest of your words caught in your throat as you met his gaze, the world around you falling away until there was nothing left but the two of you in this moment.

Spencer felt the tears welling up, the pressure building behind his eyes as he tried to hold them back. He looked up at the ceiling, willing them not to fall, his voice trembling as he struggled to find the right words. “But, I… I don’t—”

He couldn’t finish the sentence, the weight of everything hanging heavily in the air between you.

“Spencer,” you interrupted, your voice desperate and pleading, “come with me. Please, come with me to Denver.” You took a step toward him, your eyes wide and filled with hope. “We can figure this out together. You don’t have to stay here; we can start fresh.”

He shook his head, his face contorted with anguish. “I can’t,” he whispered, barely able to get the words out. “The team needs me—especially if you’re leaving. I can’t just walk away from them. From everything we’ve built.”

You stood up, the frustration and heartache bubbling up inside you, threatening to overflow. “So what happens now?” you asked, your voice rising as you paced the room. “This is too good of an opportunity to pass up, Spe-

He looked at you, his heart breaking as he realized how close he was to losing you. “So leave,” he said, his voice cracking. “You take the job. You do what’s best for you.”

But even as he said it, his mind screamed at him that he was an absolute idiot. How could he have ever thought someone as wonderful, as vibrant, as incredible as you could be interested in him? He was just a man who spent too much time in his head, who never quite knew how to navigate the real world, let alone love.

You started to speak, to argue, but the words got caught in your throat, and all that came out were half-formed sentences, desperate attempts to communicate the whirlwind of emotions inside you. “I… I just… We…”

The frustration and sorrow in your voice hit Spencer like a ton of bricks. He couldn’t bear to see you so upset, couldn’t bear to lose you without trying—without giving you, and himself, a chance. Before he could second-guess himself, Spencer reached out, his hand finding the back of your neck. He pulled you close, his lips crashing onto yours in a deep, desperate kiss, the kind that held everything he hadn’t been able to say. His tears mingled with yours, the saltiness of them mixing as your lips moved together, frantic and raw.

You held onto Spencer for a second, your hand going flat against his back, feeling the warmth of him, the solidity of his presence. It was as if time had stopped, and in that brief moment, all the pain, the frustration, and the sorrow melted away, leaving only the two of you—vulnerable and connected.

But just as quickly as that moment came, reality crashed back in. The weight of everything that had happened, the uncertainty of where you stood, and the overwhelming emotions surged back like a tidal wave. You gasped, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily as you pushed him away, your hands trembling as they left his back.

A shaky breath left your lips, your chest heaving as you tried to steady yourself, your mind reeling from the intensity of the kiss, from the depth of feeling behind it. You stared at Spencer, your heart pounding in your ears, as if trying to understand what had just happened and what it meant for the two of you.

But the hurt, the confusion, was too much. You grabbed your purse and shoes in a rush, your hands shaking as you fumbled with them. Without another word, you turned and left his apartment, the door slamming behind you with a resounding echo that seemed to linger in the silence that followed.

Spencer stood there, rooted to the spot, his heart shattered as he realized he had just let you walk out of his life. The tears he had been holding back finally fell, but it was too late now. You were gone.

Spencer stood there for a moment, staring at the door, the silence of his apartment closing in around him. His mind raced with a thousand thoughts—regret, sorrow, the ache of what could have been. But he knew he had to pull himself together, at least for a moment, just long enough to get through the rest of the night.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair, wiping the tears from his cheeks with the back of his hand. His heart still pounded in his chest, but he forced himself to take a deep breath, to push down the overwhelming emotions threatening to spill over again.

Just as he began to gather himself, he heard a knock at the door. Spencer’s eyes flicked toward the sound, and for a brief, foolish second, he thought it might be you, coming back to talk. But reality settled in quickly—there was no way you would return so soon after what had just happened.

With a heavy sigh, he walked over to the door, fishing his wallet out of his pocket as he opened it. The delivery boy stood there, holding the bag of food that Spencer had ordered earlier, before everything had fallen apart.

“That’ll be twenty even,” the delivery boy said with a practiced smile, holding out his hand for payment.

Spencer paused, his brow furrowing in confusion as he handed over a twenty-dollar bill, pulling a ten dollar bill out for the tip. “It’s usually more than that,” he muttered, more to himself than to the delivery boy.

The delivery guy’s smile widened, his tone light as he explained, “Oh, yeah. The owner noticed you and your girlfriend order the same thing every week, so he added you to the list of regulars. It’s a special discount for people who order so often.”

Spencer blinked, taken aback by the news. The regulars list. Of course. It made sense—he did order the same thing every week, always on the same night, always at the same time. A creature of habit, even in the small, mundane details of his life. It had become tradition for you two to share a meal each week.

“Thanks,” he murmured, taking the bag of food from the delivery boy’s hands. He offered a small, polite smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. The delivery boy nodded, tipping his cap before turning and heading back down the hall.

Spencer closed the door softly, standing there in the quiet of his apartment, holding the warm bag of food in his hands. He felt an odd mix of emotions—gratitude for the small kindness, but also a profound sense of loneliness. He was so predictable, so set in his ways, that even the local takeout place had noticed.

He carried the bag to the kitchen, setting it down on the counter. The smell of the food wafted up, but it only reminded him of what tonight was supposed to have been—a dinner together, something more, something that was now lost. Spencer leaned against the counter, staring at the bag of food as if it held all the answers.

But the only thing it offered was the reminder of what he didn’t have: you.

+++

As the morning wore on, Spencer struggled to concentrate on his work. The files and case notes on his desk seemed to blur together, the usual clarity of his thoughts clouded by the weight of the previous night. He kept glancing at his phone, hoping for a message from you, though he knew deep down that he wouldn’t get one.

The office buzzed with activity, but Spencer was barely aware of it. His colleagues’ chatter and the hum of the fluorescent lights seemed distant, like they were happening in another world. Every so often, he would catch himself staring blankly at the screen, lost in thought.

Around midday, Garcia came over, her usual bright demeanor dimmed by concern. “Hey, Spence,” she said softly, her voice carrying a note of sympathy. “Are you okay? You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Spencer forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. “Just a rough night,” he admitted. “Nothing to worry about.”

Garcia’s eyes searched his face, clearly unconvinced. “If you need to talk, you know where to find me. And if you need anything else, just let me know.

He nodded appreciatively, though he wasn’t sure what help he could accept. “Thanks, Garcia. I’ll be fine.”

As Garcia walked away, Spencer’s phone buzzed with a new message. His heart leapt, but it was only a reminder from his calendar about a meeting later in the day. He sighed and set the phone down, feeling a pang of disappointment.

Around mid-afternoon, Hotch stopped by Spencer’s desk, his expression as stern and unreadable as ever. “Spencer, I need to discuss a few things with you in my office.”

Spencer nodded, pushing away from his desk and following Hotch to his office. He took a seat across from Hotch’s desk, trying to shake off the melancholy that had settled over him.

Hotch didn’t waste any time. “I know things have been a bit tense for you this morning,” he said, his tone carefully neutral. “And I understand that you’re going through something personal. But I need to ensure that it doesn’t affect your work. Can I count on you to stay focused and do what needs to be done?”

Spencer looked up, meeting Hotch’s gaze. “Of course,” he replied, his voice steady. “I’ll make sure it doesn’t impact my performance.”

Hotch nodded, seeming satisfied with the response. “Good. I appreciate your dedication. If you need time off or any support, just let me know.”

Spencer nodded, thankful for Hotch’s understanding, even if he didn’t fully believe in his own ability to stay focused. He left Hotch’s office feeling a bit more resolved, though the ache in his chest remained.

As the day dragged on, the team worked through their cases, and Spencer tried his best to keep his mind occupied. But every time he thought about you, about the way you had left and the kiss he had shared with you, he felt a deep, gnawing regret.

By the end of the day, the office was winding down. Spencer packed up his things, his thoughts still swirling. As he prepared to leave, he caught Morgan glancing at him from across the room. Morgan raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, Spencer quickly headed for the door.

He stepped into the cool evening air, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement. As he walked to his car, he realized he had to face the reality of what had happened and find a way to make things right. He knew that he couldn’t just let things end this way, that he had to take action, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what to do next.

+++

The next few days dragged on with a suffocating heaviness in the office. Your absence was like a gaping hole in the daily routine—a missing presence that everyone felt but no one openly acknowledged. Your desk, once a lively spot with personal touches and a cheerful energy, now sat empty and stark, a constant reminder of what was missing.

Spencer’s heart ached every time he glanced over at the vacant desk. The little squishy pet from Garcia, the photo of you on graduation day, the birthday card—all of it was gone. It was as if you had never been there, leaving behind only the ghost of your presence. Each time Spencer caught sight of the empty space, his breath seemed to leave his chest in a sharp pang of regret.

One afternoon, after a long, fruitless lunch where he had tried to push thoughts of you out of his mind, he returned to the office to find your desk had been completely cleared out in the time he’d been gone. The sight of the empty desk, devoid of your belongings, hit him hard. It felt like a punch to the gut, the physical evidence of your departure magnifying the emotional pain he had been trying to ignore.

The following morning, the office was as subdued as ever. Spencer was lost in thought as he made his way to the kitchenette for a cup of coffee. He was barely aware of his surroundings until Morgan appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, blocking his path with a concerned expression.

“Hey, Reid,” Morgan said, his tone unusually serious. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Spencer nodded, feeling a wave of unease wash over him. He followed Derek into the kitchenette, where the hum of the refrigerator and the clinking of coffee cups provided an oddly comforting backdrop.

“What’s up?” Spencer asked, trying to sound casual, though his voice betrayed his tension.

Morgan leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “I’ve been meaning to ask you… What exactly happened with Y/N? I mean, I saw her come in the other day, sweep everything off her desk into a box, and practically run out. She didn’t say a word to anyone.”

Spencer’s heart sank at Morgan’s words.

“I…” Spencer began, his voice faltering. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “It was my fault. I… I should have talked to her earlier. I wanted to, but everything just fell apart.”

Morgan’s gaze softened slightly, his concern evident. “If something went down, you can talk to me about it. You know that, right?”

Spencer nodded, feeling the weight of his regret pressing down on him. “I know. It’s just… I messed up. I thought if I said it, she’d stay.”

Morgan didn’t press further, but his expression was one of empathy and frustration. “Look, I don’t know the details, but you need to figure this out. Y/N’s a great person, and from what I saw, she didn’t just up and leave for no reason.”

Spencer swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. I know.”

Morgan clapped him on the shoulder, a gesture of support before he turned to leave. Spencer watched him go, feeling more isolated than ever. The office, once a bustling hub of activity, now seemed like an empty shell, a reflection of the void left by your departure.

As Spencer stood there, alone in the kitchenette, he knew he had to do something. He had to find a way to make things right, to reach out and try to fix what had been broken. But for now, all he could do was hold onto the hope that it wasn’t too late to salvage whatever was left.

+++

Since that night, you’d been a wreck. Every waking moment was a reminder of how you’d left things with Spencer—something you never intended to do, but ended up doing anyway. It was as if you were stuck in a state of disbelief, grappling with the reality of what had happened and the inexplicable choice you’d made.

Packing up your life and moving from Virginia to Colorado had been a whirlwind. You were overwhelmed with the details: sorting out your belongings, organizing the move, and saying goodbye to the life you’d built. Amid the chaos, clearing out your desk was something you almost forgot. It wasn’t until the last minute that you realized you hadn’t taken the time to say a proper goodbye. You had hoped, even believed, that you might find a moment to talk to Spencer, to explain everything before you left. But with a plane to catch and a million things to do, time slipped through your fingers. You had made the decision in haste, driven by a mix of confusion and heartache, and now you were left with a gnawing sense of regret.

Sitting in your university-provided apartment, you stared blankly at your phone. The small, indifferent screen seemed to mock you with its silence. You had hoped for a call, a message, anything that would signal that Spencer might be reaching out, trying to make things right. But the phone remained silent, offering no comfort or answers.

You felt a deep, aching emptiness, as if you had left a part of yourself behind. The apartment was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the air conditioning. The space around you felt cold and unwelcoming, a stark contrast to the warmth of the life you had left behind.

You found yourself begging any entity out there—be it fate, chance, or even just your own stubborn hope—for the phone to ring. Maybe it was a long shot, but you needed to hear from Spencer, to know if there was still a chance to make things right. Your fingers hovered over the screen, ready to dial his number, but each time you hesitated, unsure if you should reach out or wait for him to make the first move.

Your thoughts were a jumbled mess of regret and longing. You wanted to explain everything, to tell him how much you had hoped things would be different. But the fear of opening old wounds, of facing the possibility that it might be too late, held you back.

You leaned back against the couch, your gaze fixed on the phone as if willing it to ring with sheer force of will. You thought of Spencer’s face, his voice, and the way he had looked at you. The memory of his tears and the kiss you shared were haunting, a reminder of the connection you both had and how quickly it had unraveled.

As the evening wore on and the apartment remained eerily quiet, you felt the weight of your decision pressing heavily on your chest. You didn’t know how things would turn out, but all you could do was hold onto the hope that somehow, somewhere, there might still be a chance to mend what had been broken.

+++

A few weeks had passed since you moved to Colorado, and despite the overwhelming start, you found yourself gradually settling into a new routine. It wasn't easy—each day brought its own set of challenges, but you managed to carve out a rhythm that helped anchor you in this unfamiliar place. Mornings were spent in the classroom, where you poured yourself into teaching, trying to lose yourself in the work. The students were bright and eager, their energy offering a brief distraction from the turmoil in your heart. After classes, you’d head to your office to prepare lectures, meet with students, or grade papers, anything to keep your mind busy.

In the evenings, you’d head back to your apartment. The space was small and simple, a far cry from the home you had left behind, but it was starting to feel a little less foreign with each passing day. You’d make yourself dinner, often something quick and easy, and then spend the night reading or watching TV, trying to fill the silence with anything that wasn’t your own thoughts.

But every Tuesday night, the routine faltered. Tuesdays were the nights you and Spencer used to have dinner together, a tradition that had started almost by accident but had quickly become a cornerstone of your week. Now, those nights were a stark reminder of what you’d lost.

Every Tuesday evening, as you sat in your quiet apartment, you’d feel the ache of his absence more keenly. You’d think about picking up the phone, about dialing his number just to hear his voice, to ask him how he was doing, to see if maybe—just maybe—you could fix what had been broken. But each time, the fear of rejection, of hearing that he had moved on, kept you from pressing that final button. Instead, you’d curl up in bed, clutching your pillow, praying that he wasn’t sitting down to dinner with someone else, someone who could take your place.

By the time your sixth week in Colorado rolled around, you had settled into your routine as best you could, though the loneliness of those Tuesday nights still lingered. One day, after a long day of teaching, you returned to your apartment to find a small box sitting in front of your door. Your heart skipped a beat as you bent down to pick it up, your hands trembling slightly as you untied the ribbon that held the box closed.

Inside was a bouquet of pink roses, their delicate petals tied together with a white ribbon. The sight of them made your breath catch in your throat, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. You fumbled with your keys, struggling to unlock the door as you tried to hold back the sobs that were building in your chest. Once inside, you set the flowers down on the table and collapsed into a chair, clinging to the bouquet as if it were a lifeline. The familiar scent of the roses filled your senses, and you held onto them for what felt like hours, letting the tears flow freely.

Your phone rang, cutting through the stillness of the apartment. You barely registered the sound at first, your mind still lost in the swirl of emotions the roses had stirred up. With trembling hands, you reached for your phone, the screen glowing faintly with an unknown number. You hesitated for a moment before answering, your voice barely above a whisper as you greeted, “Hello?”

There was a shuffle on the other end, and you could faintly hear Penelope’s voice in the background. “She picked up,” she whispered, her tone laced with relief. Then there was a pause, followed by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“Hello,” Spencer’s voice came through the line, hesitant and unsure, yet unmistakably him. The sound of it sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words to respond. The two of you sat in silence, the air between you thick with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. You searched for something to say, anything to break the tension, but all that came out were three simple words, the only ones that mattered in that moment.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice cracking as the weight of those words settled between you.

[moomoog017]

headcanons ᯓᡣ𐭩 admire

Tech x gn!reader

Synopsis: tech often gets ignored because of his constant chatter but you sit down and listen.

Genre: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF. One itty bitty pinch of angst

Word Count: 791

Warnings: none

A/N: just thought it'd be cute and wholesome. Can be read as platonic or romantic. :))

“Good morning Tech.” You announced, your voice running like honey. There was a grogginess to your words. Tech and you always woke up first, it had just become routine after the few weeks you'd been with the Batch. “Good morning y/n.” Tech replied, his eyes glued to the new project he was working on. His back hunched over in the chair. Curious, you make your way over to his side with a drink in your hands. “What are you workin’ on?" Tech moves his face a little closer to his project, “I’m working on a portable communication device; also known as a ‘com link.’”

“Can I look at it?” You spoke softly and genuinely interested. Your words hit Tech’s ears and he stopped. "Uhm sure, just don't touch it.” He swivels out of the way letting you come closer to investigate the item. He pushes his goggles up intensely watching you interact with his project.

“This is super cool!” You moved your face closer to look at all the intricate mechanisms of the device. Tech's eyebrows relaxed feeling a sense of pride in his work. "Thank you y/n.” No one ever really payed attention or listened to whatever it was he was making. He was slightly confused on why you were so interested. He analysed you and your actions, deciding to speak his hypothesis.

“Are you perhaps looking to create something similar?” You looked over at him, “oh kriff no, I don't have the talent you do Tech.” Your response baffled him even more so, “well thank you but then why the indulgment in my project?” Your eyes softened, “I just think it’s really cool.” Tech’s face was stagnant so you elaborated, “I appreciate the small details and knowledge it takes in order to basically build something mechanical from scratch. I admire it.”

He finally understood, “ah I see now, your lack of knowledge on basic mechanical systems fascinates you that’s why you're admiring mine.” Ouch you thought, but he wasn't wrong. You sigh, “I tried to word it a bit more poetically, but yeah.” You looked back at the device, Tech stayed silent he was debating something in his mind.

“Apologies if that was a bit harsh, I was just confused as to why you would be interested other than for your own benefits. I’m not used to…people being interested in what I’m doing or saying…” It was a heartfelt apology, you knew his brothers got bored of what he was saying, not out of malicious intentions they just weren't invested. Your face saddened at the device, “I forgive you Tech, I know you weren't trying to be mean.”

He released a heavy sigh of relief and spoke, “If you want to learn more about my technology and mechanics I could teach you.” Your eyes shifted, “sure.” You smiled knowing it would make both of you happy. Tech fixed his goggles and came closer to you and the device. “Well when’s my first lesson?” Tech grabs a tool, “right now.” You smiled softly, “so first it is undeniably important that—” His words drifted through the air as you absorbed them, taking in all the information and asking questions.

Time seemed to fly by that morning and you two were completely indulged in his creations. While listening you couldn't help but think how good it must feel to talk to someone who wants to listen to you. It only made you more eager to ask questions, and made you feel good. With your attention completely captured you didn't see the other men huddled together gossiping about it.

“Looks like they're getting along.” Hunter’s lips threatened a smile, seeing his brother happy. “I’m hungry!” Wrecker groaned in a whisper. “Let Tech have this a little longer, even I can only take so much ‘Tech talk.’” Echo rubbed his temple recalling all the moments where he had been close to drifting off to sleep while Tech lectured him about mechanics. Crosshair said nothing, only his typical scowl and toothpick in his mouth. He watched you two interact and he was totally going to tease you for it later.

A loud rumble was heard and it had disrupted Tech and your attention. It was Wreckers stomach growling, he sheepishly smiled. “Sorry.” You chuckled. “We’ll continue this lesson later y/n,” Tech spoke and got up placing his device in a safe space. “We're you guys just waiting?” You raised a brow. “You looked like you were having fun.” Hunter smiled.

“And Tech most of all.” Crosshair finally spoke pointing his toothpick at you. Tech heard this and a the edge of his lips lifted ever so slightly. Your ears heated up, you grinned. “Stow it Crosshair,” Echo hissed. You just chuckled enjoying the mens antics.

[dan-the-womans-blog]

Resting in Love's Embrace: An Aaron Hotchner Imagine

(No use of Y/N although it is implied.)

The night was calm, the only sound breaking the silence being the rhythmic hum of the air conditioning unit. Aaron Hotchner lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, feeling the stress of the day slowly drain away. He had just returned from a particularly grueling case, one that had taken a toll on his body and mind. But now, in the sanctuary of his home, he could finally let his guard down.

His girlfriend, who had been waiting for him, watched him quietly from the doorway of their bedroom. She had seen the weariness in his eyes the moment he walked through the door, the weight of the world resting on his shoulders. She knew what he needed—what they both needed—was time to reconnect, to find solace in each other's presence.

She approached the bed slowly, not wanting to disturb his rare moment of peace, but also knowing that her touch would bring him the comfort he so desperately needed. She slipped under the covers and moved closer to him, her body fitting perfectly against his side. Aaron turned his head, a soft smile breaking across his tired face as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

"Hey yourself," she replied, her hand gently tracing patterns on his chest. "Rough day?"

He sighed, a deep, weary sound that seemed to echo the exhaustion he felt. "You could say that. But it's better now."

She smiled, knowing that she was his anchor, the one constant in his tumultuous life. They lay there in comfortable silence, the world outside their window fading away as they focused on each other. Aaron's hand slowly moved up and down her back, a soothing gesture that calmed both their racing hearts.

"Tell me about it," she said softly, knowing that sometimes he needed to talk about his cases, to share the burden that he carried.

He hesitated for a moment, then began to speak, his voice a quiet whisper in the dark room. He told her about the case, about the victims and the criminals, the moments of terror and the flashes of hope. She listened intently, her heart aching for him and the people he tried so hard to save.

When he finished, she leaned up and kissed him gently, her lips a soft balm against his. "You're doing so much good, Aaron. Don't forget that."

He closed his eyes, letting her words wash over him. "I couldn't do it without you," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion.

They held each other tighter, finding strength in their connection. She moved closer, her head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. His arms wrapped around her, holding her as if she was his lifeline, the one thing keeping him grounded in a world that often threatened to pull him under.

They stayed like that for a long time, neither wanting to break the spell that had woven around them. The soft glow of the moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle light on their entwined forms. Aaron pressed a kiss to her forehead, a silent promise of love and protection.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice filled with a depth of feeling that words could barely convey.

"I love you too," she replied, her hand resting over his heart. "Always."

As the night deepened, they drifted into a peaceful sleep, their breaths syncing in a harmonious rhythm. In each other's arms, they found the strength to face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that together, they could overcome anything. And for Aaron Hotchner, in that moment, there was no place he would rather be than right there, holding the woman he loved, feeling the steady beat of her heart against his.

[miheartsedthings]

Idea - Billy spending his time with someone else while the reader is crushing on him from afar, sees their relationship unfold into something the reader wishes they had with Billy, but Billy's just doing it to distract himself from his elevating feelings for her while she's trying not to feel crushed by this massive crush.. happy ending :>

Thank you so much for being patient while I worked on this! Hope you like it! 😘

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.” ― Federico García Lorca, Blood Wedding and Yerma

SFW, Angst, Fluff, Hidden Desire

Backing away, trembling, eyes filling with tears as his mouth babbles softly ‘No, it’s not real. This can’t…it can’t be happening…please…’ but it is happening. It has happened. Billy Hargrove has fallen in love, and much to his despair.

He wakes every morning from a nightmare of this all-consuming feeling. It’s terrible the way your face lives in his mind. You’ve replaced so many darker images and for that, he’s so grateful, but now there’s the cloying need for you. The Flayer’s voice used to echo in his skull. In the years since leaving Hawkins, it’s quieted down and now only one message remains, tacked to the back of his mind in perpetuity. No one will love you it says No one will stay. 

This is the strongest because it’s the one he already believed. The ‘truth’ he already knew about himself. His being unloveable. He thought he’d made his peace with it. He thought he was satisfied enough to have survived the Flayer and made it back to California. For a time he found a kind of happiness. A hollow, sugary calm that left his days empty. There was booze again, and a slow reentry to weightlifting. His appetite for women was slowly returning. He’d made a couple of friends and attended a couple of parties. He was creating a new normal and it was okay that it didn’t feel exactly right. 

He could live with the waves of loneliness that came over him at night. He could handle those dark memories and the nameless sense of loss. He would’ve been fine with it, if not for you. He saw you in class one morning. The dawn of another semester, another summer left behind. His skin was still warm from days on the beach, his head ringing with a hangover. Then you spoke and it was like you’d called his name with just the sound of it. He looked at you and listened to you, and every next thing you said spelled out his ruin. Every day the feeling sank further and further until he was bashful of looking your way. 

As if that wasn’t enough, you kept showing up all over campus. You were in the student center whenever he went, and at parties he attended looking so fucking good in everything you wore. You passed by each other on your morning walk to separate classes and you always waved. Always with that lovely smile of yours. It got to the point where the thought of moving around campus made him anxious about running into you. He thought of you when he picked out his clothes, for fuck’s sake. Things couldn’t continue this way. He had to find peace from you. So, when Lauren asked him out one day after the class you shared, he said yes. 

You’re trying to ignore the twist in your gut when you see Billy and Lauren walk in together. They’d always sat together in lecture, so you suppose it makes sense they’d start dating. But that doesn’t make it easier. You’d noticed Billy on your first day in class. He sat near the back, classically handsome and easily the most interesting person in class. When he talked, everyone listened, not just because of the way he looks. The way he speaks is filled with intention, right down to the gestures he chooses to accentuate his words. Whatever he feels he means it and he never shies away from that.

At the same time, you get the sense that what he says isn’t useless fluff, but based on something. Whatever he’s been through has changed him. You find yourself wanting to go up to him after class and ask him where he gets his confidence. You’d listen to his whole life story if he cared to tell you. But every time you thought you’d worked up the nerve to speak to him, those pretty blue eyes turned your nerve into vapor. 

You’d always been a little shy, but with Billy, it was a new kind of nervousness. Even boys you’d had crushes on in school hadn’t made you feel the heart-stopping terror of his full attention. Maybe it was for the best that Lauren had taken him off the market. Now, there was no need to be nervous because there was no chance anything could happen. So why doesn’t that make it easier? Why, instead of relief when you see the pair together, do you only feel a queasy swell of envy? 

“Count off when I point to you. Evens will be one team, odds will be another.” 

You think nothing of it when the professor presents the group project. Then, you realize that you’re number three and Billy is number seven, and you’re flooded with fear. 

“Oh nooo,” Lauren whines, hugging Billy’s arm to her chest. Billy says something softly to her. He’s always gentle with her, paying attention to every little thing she says. If only he’d look at you with the same care. He wears a lot of denim and smokes so much you smell the leftover cigarettes on him when he walks by. He’s always lost in thought when you see him. Something dark and cloudy behind his eyes you find yourself curious about. The distance is what kills you.

It feels unnatural that you can’t just go up and ask him what he’s thinking about. But you can’t. You watch the gentle way he pulls away from Lauren, telling her she doesn’t need to miss him since she’ll see him after class. You can’t blame her for being clingy, if he was yours you’d regret every moment apart. 

His eyes lift and there you are, making his heart race. You look down to your notebook. Your two other group members have already arrived at the two seats beside and diagonal to you, leaving the spot across from you for Billy. He plops down, his face the perfect mask of indifference. He doesn’t even look at you. Your stomach hurts.

The professor explains the assignment and you turn in your seat to watch and listen, but the words are going over your head. Billy gives off a blazing heat and you can’t ignore it to save your life. After class the four of you agree to go right to the library and talk about the assignment.

In the library, only you and Billy show up. Of course, Lauren is there, too. 

“Y/n, how do you get your hair to do that? It’s so cute!” Lauren smiles at you, twirling a lock of her auburn curls around her finger. You try to be lighthearted, but your face is burning. 

“Just practice. And Youtube.” You chuckle. Billy sits there looking down at his phone. He’s still yet to speak since the three of you arrived in the library. Instead, Lauren has been acting as his mouthpiece. 

“Very cute,” she says again, then nudges Billy. “Isn't her hair so cute, BB?” 

Finally, his gaze lifts and he looks at you. You awkwardly smile and look down at your paper. 

“Sure,” he says. 

Lauren chastizes him, saying he’s supposed to agree with her and always compliment a lady on her appearance. 

“It looks like the others aren’t coming,” You say, breaking into the conversation, sufficiently embarrassed and ready to escape. “We should try again later this week.” 

In your hurry to get away, you snatch Billy’s pen from the table, shoving it into your bag with everything else. You don’t notice until you get home and quietly curse yourself. The next day, you see him in the student center when you go there to study. You smile and wave like you usually do, but then, wave him over. He hesitates a moment, his usual cool demeanor chipping a bit as he saunters over. Damn, even the way he walks is hot. 

“I took this on accident yesterday,” you say, producing the pen. He smirks, flashing the sharp tips of his canines. 

“Shit, you could’a kept it. I didn’t even notice.” 

Right, he didn’t notice. Your neck goes warm. 

“Sure, of course, I just thought…it’s yours, so…” 

“Right.” He says. 

“Right…”’ 

An oppressive quiet falls over the two of you, while you’re still holding the pen out to him and he’s still yet to take it and sweat is prickling the back of your neck because you’re not sure what to say or do. You’re certain the wrong move would ruin everything. Finally, a flicker of awareness snaps you out of it and you pull back your hand, unfortunately, it’s at the exact same moment he decides to reach for the pen. 

“Oh,” you say, and extend it again and at the same moment he pulls back his hand. Both of you produce an awkward chuckle and he shifts onto his other leg. 

“Keep it,” he says with a handsome little grin. 

“Alright.” you clear your throat. “Did you ever hear from our group members?”

“Shit, no,” the two of you share a laugh, more comfortable this time. “It’s probably gonna be all on us.” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” You’re chewing your lip, considering a bit of honesty you’d never had the nerve for until now. “Ya know, if I’m being honest, I don’t even remember what the assignment was.” 

He cocks an eyebrow.

“You don’t know the assignment? Little miss answers every question?”

“Oh come on, I only answer half. You get the other half.” 

He rolls his eyes, a playful chiding. 

“Alright,” he slides into the seat opposite you. “I’ll explain it once so you better pay attention.” 

“Swear.” You say, smiling brightly. 

The assignment is abstract. As Billy explained it, you both found yourselves chuckling at your professor’s philosophical nature. It was a communications class, yet the assignment required in-depth study of your group mates in service of a short, but thorough introduction. You were to present your classmates as if they were receiving something like a Lifetime Achievement Award. Your speeches were to be “thoughtful, informative, and intimate”.

Billy explained all this and you enjoyed the uninterrupted view of him so up close. You were getting used to the way your stomach fell flat against your pelvis when he laughed, and soon enough you were joking right back. You asked him a few things you’d always wondered. Where had he been before Cali? Did he live in the dorms or off campus? 

You talk about things you’ve overheard through dorm walls and about small towns. You tell him about friends back home and he tells you (In such vague terms that it only makes you even more curious) about his streak of trouble that almost killed him. He talks about the town he came from like it’s a dark blip on the map of his life. 

“Should make Christmas fun, right?” You ask, joking. 

“Fuck that,” he says. “I’m not going back.” 

The mood turns somber and your smile fades. You take up the pen he gave you and take note. 

“‘Hates Hawkins more than he loves Christmas’. Got it.” 

He smiles. 

“Nice. Very accurate.” 

“Thanks,” you say “And if it makes you feel any better, I won’t be going home for break, either.” 

For a moment the two of you are quiet, taken off guard by how natural it feels to be in the other’s company. You both let your eyes wander as you never had before. A small indulgence. Then his phone rings and you’re both reminded of the reality of things. It’s Lauren, asking where he is. 

The next day, your group members still don’t show up to the library. Lauren’s meeting up with her own group, leaving you and Billy alone. 

“What do you think she means by ‘intimate’?”

Billy looks up from his draft of your introduction. He looks extraordinarily handsome today and you've been having trouble holding eye contact. You try, of course, locking eyes and waiting for the rush of nerves to pass. His lids are tapered, and now that you think of it, every eyes you've ever admired have been tapered, just like his. His expression is thoughtful. 

“Shit, I don't know. More than personal. Yeah, more than superficial. Something that lets em feel like they've known you for years.” 

What would it be like to know him for years? You start to imagine the depth of understanding you'd come to have about this person and your heart starts to race. You're beginning to really appreciate this assignment. 

“And the trick is doing it in two weeks.” You say, leaning back in your chair. “Well, I'll tell you my secrets if you tell me yours.”

He chuckles. 

“So you can go blab about them in class? No thanks.”

“I wouldn't blab,” you say through a laugh, “I just wanna get a feel-” your nerves catch up to you right then. At the worst time. He cocks an eyebrow, making you cringe. 

“You wanna feel.” He teases. 

“No, no, not like that.” 

“Uh huh.”

“I'm curious about you, that's all. You're interesting.” 

“Hm.” 

“Nevermind, forget I said anything.” 

He's smirking, and writing something in his notebook. 

“This is good,” he says “you're givin me plenty to work with.”

You groan, now fully embarrassed and he laughs again. Your eyes drop to your paper and you read over what you have so far. 

“So,” he says, “Ask me something. If you're curious.” 

You consider this invitation for a moment and decide it's now or never. You lean forward, folding your arms over each other. 

“Well, in class you're always saying you don't like non-verbal communication. It's cheap and sneaky-” 

“Lazy,” he corrects you. “It's the shit people rely on so they don't have to open their mouths.” 

“Well…I just wonder if you might be oversimplifying things, and maybe if you don't like non-verbal communication from people because you don't know how to read it.” 

His brows raise in a look of mock surprise. 

“Yeah? What, you think I can't pick up on shit?” 

“It's just a theory,” you say, laughing “But there's something to it. Non-verbals are valuable.” 

“Depends on what they are,” he says. 

“True. They're not all equal, but why hate them? I mean I know what you've said in class, they avoid the point, people use it as a crutch, but why do you think that?” 

He sighs, leaning back in his chair, his eyes finding the ceiling behind your head. He sits there looking into the middle distance, pacing through thoughts. Making sense of something. 

“You can't go through life...making people read your mind about shit.” He says, hesitating over a few of his words. You can tell this is harder for him to say. More honest. “People need to hear things…if they don't, they assume. And if you're stuck up your own ass trying to hold shit in, you never set it straight. What they think about you stays…” 

You're watching him as he speaks, gesturing in order to help bring the words out. He brushes a curly lock of gold out of his eyes and as his voice peters out your gaze lingers on his parted lips.

“You are very non-verbal.” His eyes shoot up to yours, snapping you out of your spell. “Not in a bad way,” you add. 

“In what way?” 

You shrug. 

“I don't know.” He doesn't look away, his eyes are fixed on you in a serious look of curiosity. “You talk with your hands. And to me that speaks to how genuinely you feel about things. Which is nice. You have an easy smile, it shows up as soon as you're amused and disappears the moment you're not. So, there's honesty in that, I think. You're very present.” He's watching you with a softness in his eyes that makes you warm. “And Lauren.” The mention of her name changes something in him. He looks away. “You uh…you keep your arm around her chair. It's protective.” 

A moment passes where neither of you speaks, and you feel a quiet sadness settling over you. 

“Anyway,” you continue, looking at your paper now, “Why hate it so much when it says so much about you?” 

The longer you sit there in silence the more agitated Billy seems to get. He says he has to go and starts gathering his stuff. You assume it's because you've crossed a boundary by bringing up Lauren and you part ways with a gnawing guilt making your eyes water. 

The next time you see Billy, you're at a party in the apartments near campus. People are crammed into the tight space, but the atmosphere is lively and warm. You and your friend stand in the kitchen, leaning against the island, cups in hand, already buzzed. 

“Didn’t she say where he’d been?” Your friend asks. Her eyes are covered in sparkly purple eyeshadow and dark liner. Her signature look. 

“You know my mom. She’s cryptic. All she said was my dad’s back and I need to come home over break.” 

She rolls her eyes. 

“Lame.”

“Lame is one word for it.” 

You drain your cup of its contents and then refill it, not enjoying the thought of being around your parents for the holidays. It’s not like they’re bad people, they just expect a lot which can be hard to stomach when your dad disappears whenever he wants to. Your mom doesn’t make it any easier by demanding you be the perfect child to him whenever he decides to be home. 

Your cup is mostly vodka with just enough cranberry juice to change the color. You slam it in less than a minute, making your friend laugh. 

“Fuck,” she giggles. “That’s better. Let’s talk about that fine-ass classmate of yours.”

“Let’s not,” you answer, but your face is already warming thinking about Billy. 

“Is he still with what’s her face?”

“Very much.”

“I don’t get that.”

“What’s not to get? She’s a nice enough girl and he’s about the most scrumptious guy I’ve ever seen.” 

She shakes her head. 

“Something’s off about it. Remember the episode of Catfish when it was really the dude’s cousin?”

You laugh.

“She was mad because he called her a fat-ass Kelly Price?”

“Yes! I knew, remember? I knew it was her all along! And when I think about you and this boy I get the same feeling, like the call is coming from inside the house.” 

The two of you are laughing about this when you glance over into the living room and spot him. You can’t help gasping and your friend quickly follows your gaze. He and Lauren are just arriving, looking around, Lauren spots a group of girls she knows and goes shrieking over to them with her arms outstretched. You turn before Billy can catch you looking. 

“Shit,” you mumble, taking another drink. 

“No, this is good,” your friend says, “You have to get to the bottom of this.”

“There is no bottom of it,” you say, the reality of the situation hitting you again. “He has a girlfriend, there’s nothing left to do.” You glance over your shoulder and see you’ve lost track of him. “In fact. I’m avoiding him.”

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I’ll be back and then we can leave.” 

You don’t listen to your friend’s pleas to stay, you move away in search of the bathroom. It’s at the end of a short hall, but as you’re on your way there, you see a bedroom door cracked open and movement catches your eye. Curiosity gets the better of you so you peek into the room, noticing a little black cat licking itself on the edge of the bed.

If you hadn’t been drunk, you would’ve kept moving, but you were drunk, more than you’d realized a second ago, and you couldn’t resist. You pushed into the quiet bedroom, gently closing the door behind you. The cat gave a curious, curling meow and watched you as you sat down beside it. 

“Hey kitty,” you called, softly.

It rose, curling its back into a stretch and then bumping its little head into your palm. It meows again, eagerly arching its body against you. 

“So sweet,” you coo, “Such a little sweetie baby, huh?” 

The cat meows and cranes up to sniff as you scratch under its chin. In your fuzzy vodka brain, it makes perfect sense to lay back and let the cat curl up on your belly, which it promptly does. It’s lying there purring when the door opens and you bolt upright, suddenly terrified that the person whose room this is has caught you. Instead, you’re terrified to see Billy.

You sit there with the cat in your lap, your body filling with warmth. As good as he looks at school, there’s something entirely different about him in this kind of setting. Something loosened. A sly smile spreads across his lips. 

“I knew it,” he says. 

“Knew what?”

“You’re the type to be at a party and go snooping around for the pet.” 

You laugh at yourself. 

“Well, this actually happened by accident.” 

“Sure.” 

There it is again: that comfortable stillness you keep feeling between the two of you. How can he just stand there not saying a thing and make you feel at home? You remember Lauren and look down at the cat. Its fur is so smooth and ink-black. Its eyes are an uncanny emerald color. 

“So, turns out I am going home for Christmas break.” 

“Couldn’t resist.” 

You smile at his sarcasm. 

“It’s really a favor to my mom. My dad’s home so it’s…I don’t know, it’s stupid. But I’ll be there ‘cause it’s family.”

You don’t look at him, but if you had you’d see such conflict in his eyes. 

“Figured out another thing I hate about non-verbal shit.” 

You look up then, as he crosses the space to sit beside you. The cat is immediately curious, stepping across your lap to carefully sniff and then headbut Billy’s thigh. 

“What's that?” 

“It leaves it all up to the other person. You make em’ watch you and read into everything. They end up feeling like a stalker. Then if they get it wrong, it’s like, this whole fantasy they had is just empty bullshit.” 

He’s tan, bringing his faint freckles into contrast. He smells like shampoo and cologne, and he’s warm. You can tell that when his hand brushes your thigh when he offers his palm to the cat.

“Funny,” you say, your voice has fallen soft and airy, but you don’t notice. You’re focused on his eyes “My introduction to you is all about how no-bullshit you are.” 

He smirks, but it’s without the usual mischief. 

“Better change that,” he says “I’m so full of shit I can’t stand it.”  

You stare at him for a moment, and he comes into focus then, in a new way. You understand something new about him and just as you expected, it feels incredible. 

“I get it now,” You say “The real reason you hate non-verbals.” 

A little glint of apprehension passes through his eyes. 

“Yeah?” 

“You hate them ‘cause you-” 

The door opens, and Lauren is there. Her smile falters into a lopsided grin. 

“There you are,” she chirps. “Not in the bathroom.” 

The two of them leave quickly, Billy tossing plastic parting words over his shoulder as he rushes away. You’re left in a stillness that doesn’t end when you get up to leave. It stays with you, burning and hollow. 

You’re having trouble focusing in class on Monday. Your professor is more than a little surprised to see you being so quiet, and when she asks if you have anything to add to the discussion you quietly explain that you’re not feeling well. She asks if you’d like to leave early and you take her up on the offer. Anything to get away from Billy and Lauren.

She’s been all over him, even more than usual and it’s hard to stomach. You keep thinking back to the party and your encounter with Billy. What had it meant? You felt like it was on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t make anything crystalize into shape. Your head was drowned. 

Later, in the student center, you stare down at your paragraph. Nothing about it seemed right anymore and you kept re-structuring it. The paper was clogged with scribbles and strikethroughs. Your head was down, your hands framing your eyes as you stared down at the page and you didn’t look up when he sat down.

“Finish what you were saying the other night,” he says. 

“I don’t remember.”

“Of course you do.”

“I was drunk, Billy. Forget it. Please?” 

You hear him sigh and adjust in his chair. 

“It’s over with Lauren.” 

You look up and find his eyes are stone-cold and focused. His brows pinched.

 “Did you…?”

“I’m done with the bullshit, Y/n. Fuck bein’ scared. Fuck the non-verbal shit.”  

A jolt of energy zips up your spine, pulling you straighter in your seat. Your heart is pressed against your lungs as you watch his eyes, full of a new determination. 

“What does that mean?” you venture. 

His eyes take in your features, slowly, savoring the look of you. 

“I don’t have a fuckin letter of this speech written down because I’m such dogshit at explaining who you are. Maybe if I had a year I could get started but it’s impossible right now. So I’m failing this project. Which is fine. But I want that year, if I’m not getting the grade.” 

You’re stunned for a moment, until a ripple of laughter breaks the quiet. You share the joy, his smile evidence of an understanding. 

“Just a year?” You ask.

“Enough to get started,” he says “That’s maybe half a sentence.” 

“How much time would it take?”

“How much do you have?”

You laugh again, a palm over your heated face. 

“I can’t believe this,” you say, then look at him, astonished. “I was right. You’re total shit at saying how you feel.”

He smiles and shrugs. 

“Told you.” 

“Yeah," you say, "that you tell me.”

Dividers from saradika-graphics

Photos from Pinterest

[torukmaktoskxawng]

tsamsiyu ta'em - they're closing in

Masterlist - part eleven

Summary: Kayla receives an update on Spider's whereabouts. Everything is beginning to come to a head and the tension is thick in the air.

Pairing: Ronal/Tonowari/Original Female Character

Tag: #tsamsiyu ta'em fic

posted on ao3

Word Count: 7k+

Warnings: canon-compliant, mature language, slow burn, polyamory, found family, cool aunt agenda, time skips, I'm trying to hurry up and get to the good parts so bear with me, fluff, angst, etc.

Taglist (bold indicates "could not tag"): @motheroffae @undeniableadrenaline @mooniequeen @shit-i-say-shit-i-think @heart-an0n @amiets2 @slutforsmut4ever @yeosxxx​ @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @sucker4angstt @inolaphoenix @ilovechickenwings @tojisleftarm @andyfromku @ivysully

Seeing Neytiri laugh is now a rare sight and an honor if one is on the receiving end of it. Nowadays, the Na'vi woman struggles with smiling unless she's with her children, while her eyes cast over the sea far beyond the atoll wall, thinking of the forest and feeling immensely homesick. Living here, among the Metkayina, she's found herself going through the motions, day after day, wishing for nothing more than to find Quaritch and kill him so she and her family could go back home where they belong. Very rarely is she able to actually enjoy the beauty of Awa'atlu without aching for the familiarity of her home clan, but that is why her family helps at this low point in her life. 

Her mate and his sister are no exceptions. As a gentle storm falls over the village one afternoon, the Sully children find themselves running off with their new friends. Tsireya, Rotxo, and Ao'nung had promised to show them a network of pools deep within the jungle that rises into a larger, beautiful, bioluminescent lake when storms roll in. It was a well-known spot for reef kids to escape to when they had free time so of course, the former forest children wanted to see this small sanctuary for themselves. With the children gone, Neytiri, Jake, and Kayla find themselves alone together as dinner rolls around, practically stuck in the Sully marui as the storm continues to drop steady, soothing rain against the roof of their new home.

The storm muffled any noise outside and only accentuated Neytiri's laugh as it echoed throughout the marui. She was intently listening to a story Jake was telling about his and Makayla's childhood. Occasionally, Kayla would pitch in on the story to either correct her brother or to add to the silly tale. It was a story about the time a bunch of neighborhood kids gathered on the rooftops one night back on Earth, trading sugar sweets while trying to leap across rooftop to rooftop since the buildings perfectly lined up in a row down the street. Jake recounted this story as a fond memory, even smiling to himself as he told it, but Kayla teasingly reminded him that he and one other kid ended up breaking their arms pulling off such a stupid stunt and Tommy had never let him live it down.

Neytiri was fanning the flames of the hearth as she cooked dinner, in the middle of laughing at the bashful expression on her husband's face when a large figure came into view of the marui entrance, shadowed by the dark and heavy rain coming from outside. Almost immediately, Neytiri's smile fell and both Jake and Kayla had to turn around to see what she was staring at.

It was Tonowari, standing strong against the rain like it didn't even phase him, his flyaway hairs now stuck to his skin, curling around and framing his face. The olo'eyktan bore a solemn expression, his gaze heavy as his ears lowered faintly. Whatever thoughts running through his mind as he pointedly stared at all three of his guests, it was grim. He ducked back outside and waited there. Jake, Kayla, and Neytiri immediately stood and joined their new clan leader outside, the rain immediately greeting them as they stepped out of their pod.

Jake already had a sinking feeling as to whatever news Tonowari might have, but he desperately clung to hope that it was something else, preferably that his sons were getting into trouble again. He couldn't voice this hope as the strength to do so left his words to sound soft and worried, "What's wrong?"

"Sky People," Tonowari glances away from the ocean to peer back at the forest Na'vi, "They're looking for you, Jakesully. South. They have a human boy who speaks Na'vi."

Jake turns his gaze to Kayla, who meets his eyes immediately as they share a voiceless thought. Kayla's eyes had hardened at the news, determination setting in like stone as the happiness she had previously felt while getting Neytiri to laugh quickly faded away.

Jake turned back to Tonowari, his own expression grim and resigned, "Did they kill anybody?"

"Not yet."

Toruk Makto visibly relaxes, inwardly relieved as he shares a knowing look with Neytiri. Tonowari glanced between the pair as he continued, "They threaten, but the villagers will not tell them where you are. By my order."

Movement out of Jake's peripheral drives his attention away from the village chief. Turning his head, the former marine watched his sister dart back into the marui without so much of a warning. Jake had enough manners to quickly thank Tonowari before ducking back into the pod, only to stop in the doorway at the sight of Kayla quickly gathering his own weapons and inspecting the ammo.

His ears flatten, "Woah, where are you going?"

"I'm going after them." She continues cataloging the weapons, even taking out Jake's rifle, and is pleasantly surprised that it's been routinely cleaned. Old habits really do die hard, even for Jake.

He makes a frustrated sound in the back of his throat before walking fully into the marui, "Alone? Against Quaritch? Are you crazy?"

Kayla, peers up at him, unphased, "Perfectly sane, why do you ask?"

"You can't take on a group of highly trained soldiers in avatar bodies all on your own. You have one gun and one banshee."

By now, Neytiri had walked back into the marui and Tonowari returned to his spot, looming over the doorway, though Neytiri had beckoned the chief to step further into her home to receive shelter from the storm. The Sully siblings have yet to even notice this exchange as they continue to argue back and forth.

"And Spider is just one kid, all alone, likely believing we abandoned him because we haven't rescued him after months of nothing!" Kayla snarled back.

"And how do we know Spider isn't willingly helping Quaritch?"

"And what if he isn't? Are you just going to let a child die based on assumptions? You've known Spider his whole life, far longer than I've known him. You tell me."

"It's a suicide mission, Kayla."

"The Recoms don't know me. They won't see me coming."

Tonowari watched as Jake struggled to come up with more arguments, but his mind visibly appeared as though it was running in circles, just behind his eyes as they were darting all over the place, trying to come up with a stronger rebuttal. Tonowari decided to aid the man he respected and took a step forward, even surprising Kayla enough to stop gathering weapons as he spoke, "You are not Metkayina yet. You don't know these waters and there are more dangers out there beyond the reef, not just the Sky People."

Her yellow eyes briefly widen as they peer up to meet the chieftain's blue ones, surprised that Tonowari was backing Jake up, then they shrink back and Kayla takes a moment to shift until her posture is straighter and her expression more formal. She nodded stiffly before finally opening her mouth to respond, and when she eventually did so, it was still a little more hesitant than she wanted it to be, "You're right. I'm not Metkayina. I'm not even Na'vi. So with all due respect, Tonowari, you are not ma olo'eyktan."

His lips tighten together as if from saying anything as she continues to stare him down, "I'm still a dreamwalker outcast who can come and go as she pleases. And I, for one, would rather not let your people risk their lives for our war. Maybe you can ask them to do so, but I can't. Spider is my responsibility. I owe that kid a lot and neither you nor anyone else can tell me to stand down and do nothing," something in her eyes changed and suddenly she had a hard time looking Tonowari in the eye, looking down and remembering the weapons in her hands before moving to pack things up, "So thank you for your hospitality. I owe you a lot, but I gotta go."

Jake steps back into her field of view, leveling her with a look of determination, "Don't make me set my kids on you, Kayla. Don't."

She scoffed, "Oh, please. If anything, they'd want to help me."

"Maybe, but I don't want to be the one to tell them that their aunt went out and got herself and Spider killed. Please don't make me do that."

The marui is reduced to silence, apart from the rain outside. All this Spider talk had rendered Neytiri mute, keeping her jaw tight to refrain from saying anything else that might drive Kayla away. All eyes are on Kayla and she physically feels her skin crawl knowing this. A battle is raging behind her gaze as she only manages to stare at Jake and no one else, before finally she gives in, her posture loosening into a sigh of defeat as she mutters, "... I'll link back to my consciousness tonight and let everyone know about Spider's whereabouts. There's no point in me going back to the forest now that I know the kid is close by. I'll continue my search here."

"Fine," Jake also relents while pointedly glaring at his sister, "But don't tell my kids that. They have enough on their plate. They don't need to go running off just because they know Spider might be closer than they think."

"You really think your kids are that reckless?" When Jake says nothing, Kayla exhales through her nose, "Of course, you do. Because deep down, even you know that they get it from you."

She leaves her brother's weapons where she found them before bidding Neytiri a goodnight. Jake's eyebrows furrow, "Where are you going now?"

"Back to my hammock. 'That okay with you?"

Jake doesn't challenge it, sensing when not to engage depending on the tone in his sister's voice. He let her brush past him without a fuss and didn't even watch her step out into the rain. Tonowari waits until she is out of view before turning back to Toruk Makto and his mate, "I apologize for interrupting your evening. I'll see that your sister returns to her campsite safely."

He leaves only when the pair nods with acknowledgment, gratitude bleeding from their eyes that continue to follow the olo'eyktan when he leaves. It wasn't hard to catch up with Makayla as she was keeping her steps slow to ensure she didn't slip from the drenched pathways. The chief didn't even have to quicken his usual stride, his legs longer than most Na'vi and able to reach Kayla within moments. They walk together silently at first, while Kayla doesn't even appear to realize he is next to her, but he carefully watches her shoulders stiffen to line with her spine and he knows she was aware of his presence, she just didn't care.

The anger was radiating off of her, and the urge to calm her emotions was palpable. As he does for all of his people who come to him for advice, he keeps his voice gentle, "If I had upset you back there--"

"Just--" Shock wasn't a normal emotion for Tonowari, but he found it difficult to ignore when Kayla snapped at him, her tone so harsh he could clearly hear it over the rain. Kayla paused in her steps, stopping in the middle of the beach, the treeline in view, and waving at her in greeting. But she couldn't walk away. Conflicted with her own thoughts, she forced herself to correct her mistake of snapping at Tonowari of all people. She exhaled heavily, her gaze matching the energy that left her body when she gazed back up at the Na'vi man. He sees the defeat from earlier, along with a brewing storm behind it.

Her words were short, "You had no business stepping in back there. Jake and I are fighting our own war with the Sky People, a war that has nothing to do with you and your people. So, please, with as much niceness as I can muster today... stay out of it," she moves her body away from Tonowari, before freezing again and turning back. Her eyes held a furious war of her own as she nearly spat out, "And don't ever try to stroke Jake's ego when he and I fight ever again."

He lowered his head down to meet her gaze, ever so slightly tilting off to the side. Kayla had learned not to be intimated by Tonowari and his towering height a while ago now, and the tilt of his head only told her that he was puzzled. She snarled, a little peeved at what looked like innocence and confusion nestled in the olo'eyktan's face. He clearly didn't deserve her anger, especially since he was chief of the village she currently resided in, and also because he clearly had no idea why she was cross with him. It didn't help that she used words and slang that were not of this world, and it only irritated her further that she wasn't being understood. Knowing that she was behaving like a child, she decided to walk away without another word, tail tucked between her legs, so to speak, and too angry to feel embarrassed just yet.

If she knew he was watching her until she had vanished completely behind the trees, she would never admit it. Even with the trees and shrubbery hiding her away from view, she could still feel his eyes, calculating and burning into her back. She stubbornly kept her gaze forward, head held high despite the cold rain... just in case that man could still somehow see her.

~~~~~~~~~

Going to bed cold, wet, and alone didn't exactly help with Kayla's attitude, and waking up like that only made it worse.

If Jake had the energy to tease her, -not after the night before, there's no way he'd poke that bear- he'd comment playfully that someone must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. It would be a human phrase that he'd have to explain to his children once they'd overhear him, but alas, it wasn't needed when neither Jake nor Kayla spoke to each other the next day and no teasing happened. Kayla felt a little grateful that her arguments with her brother usually left her in blissful silence for at least a short while, but to be left alone was to be left with one's thoughts.

Despite her grumpy start, Kayla's head was still spinning from yesterday's news. Spider was close, closer than she could've ever hoped for. He could be on a ship, circling the islands at this very moment. Max and Norm looked so concerned when she returned to High Camp last night to tell them when she had learned, and it only fueled the fire in her gut. Kayla could easily grab Thena and fly to Spider's rescue... if it wasn't for her brother's words bouncing back in her head and the clear order to stand down like they were still marines. That and Tonowari's warning also loomed over her like a storm cloud, his tight lip only fueling her guilt when she played back all she had said to him out of anger against Jake. By the time she had made it back to her campsite last night, she immediately wanted to turn back around and seek the olo'eyktan out to apologize. She was an adult. It should be easy.

She scoffed to herself when she thought that. Yeah, it should be easy. But not when you're a Sully. Instead of overthinking it anymore, Kayla returned to sharpening arrows. After sharing a mid-day meal with the other Sullys, she decided to find some alone time on the warm rocks peeking out of the water, looming just over the reef. She took this time to inspect the bow and arrows she was trying to create out of whatever supplies she had. While warriors of the Omatikaya make their bows out of the wood of Hometree, Kayla didn't have that here on the island, so she made do with what she had at her disposal. She found the perfect tree, made out of wood that bent easily to her will, but not enough to snap under pressure. For her first attempt at making her own weapon, Kayla was quite proud, and it was enough of a distraction that she didn't have to think too hard about her situation.

First and foremost, saving Spider was her top priority. That kid had already been away from his home and friends for far too long, and with a military mind, Kayla could only imagine what the teenager might be going through right now. Hence why she needed to save him, and to do that she needed to hurry up with her Iknimaya and stop distracting herself with pretty Metkayina leaders with tattoos.

However, Ronal proves this to be difficult when she, yet again, seeks Kayla out. The Metkayina woman easily rose up to stand behind Kayla on her rock, unbothered by the height nor her rounded belly. And, as blunt as ever, she didn't waste either woman's time in beating around the bush, "You had upset my mate."

The cloud metaphorically above Kayla's head darkened, but she didn't address it, "He shouldn't have interfered with family matters."

It honestly surprised Ronal that Kayla was speaking so boldly in front of the tsahik without any fear of repercussions. The demon woman's manners and patience must be wearing thin after the news of the Sky People closing in on the Sullys' location. Kayla didn't bother to turn around, already aware of those narrowed, suspicious eyes that always seemed permanent on Ronal's face, angry with the urge to lash out at someone who had insulted Tonowari. But, if Kayla had bothered to turn around, she would've instead seen Ronal watching her as if she was analyzing her, trying to piece together the same puzzle her mate no doubt was trying to solve the night before.

"Perhaps you are right," she doesn't get the reaction she was expecting. Whenever Ronal tends to agree with Kayla or compliment her, it usually drives the avatar woman speechless, eyes wide and mouth usually left open. Now, Kayla barely moves other than to continue her task, back still turned to Ronal. The tsahik's upper lip twitched in annoyance, deciding on a different blunt question, "Why do you care so much about the Sky People?"

That earns her a pause, the silence lingering before Kayla continues sharpening her arrows, "I don't."

"And yet you care about..." She thinks back to what her mate had told her when he returned to their marui last night, her distaste still evident on her tongue, "I believe you call him Spider?"

Pricks of irritation rise all over Kayla's skin, and the same words that she's been repeating in her head and to others fall from her lips like a broken record, "That kid is more Na'vi than even me. He was born and raised here, unlike my brother and I, and he learned how to become Na'vi among the Omatikaya, playing and learning and growing up alongside my nieces and nephews. The only reason he doesn't have his own ikran is that he doesn't have the means to bond with one, otherwise, he would have a long time ago. That boy knows the language and culture of the Na'vi far more than I can ever hope to learn... and seeing this place through his eyes helped me learn to love it just as much as he does."

Ronal listened closely, attempting to grasp what Kayla was trying to say. It was hard to picture a demon boy who loved and cherished Eywa and all her creations. There were very few Sky People who respect this world and those who do tend to hide their true faces behind false Na'vi, such as Makayla and Toruk Makto, and those particular Sky People only live among the Omatikaya. Their kind was uncommon anywhere else. Either the Omatikaya didn't have enough spine to turn their chosen Sky People away, or the Forest People saw something worth saving under the watchful eye of the Great Mother.

As the spiritual leader of her clan, Ronal had to believe it was the latter option, but she wasn't as all-knowing as Eywa. Ronal wishes she had the gift of seeing what her goddess saw in humans. Maybe the demons had potential and she had yet to see it.

Only one way to find out. The tsahik turns to walk away, "Come. I have a large fishing net that requires mending."

Kayla sucks in a sharp breath of air, holding it for a moment before slowly exhaling, willing herself to calm down and be mindful. Grabbing her bow and whatever arrows she had managed to make, she did her best to keep her movements loose and relaxed as she willingly followed Ronal back to the village, not wanting to expose how irritated she felt.

They walk through the village and Kayla pointedly keeps her eyes forward, hearing some whispers in Na'vi whenever they pass by any Metkayina. Kayla bit her tongue, translating the language in her head and doing her best not to react in case the Metkayina realized she had heard them, purposely only staring at the back of Ronal's head. She relaxes a little, busying her troubled mind with admiring the texture of the Na'vi woman's hair, and before she knew it, they were at the beach. The fishing net in question was definitely large, stretching out the same width as a tsurak's wingspan. Tonowari was kneeling in the sand, leaning back on the heels of his feet as he worked away at mending said net.

Ah, so that's why Ronal had brought her here. To apologize. Suddenly it was becoming more difficult not to visibly appear irritated with everyone around Kayla who was treating her like a child. Still, she didn't hesitate to humor the tsahik for her hidden agenda and when the chieftain looked up at the sound of footsteps, Kayla flicked her alien fingers from her brow to Tonowari's direction, "I apologize for my temper yesterday, olo'eyktan. I was out of line and disrespectful."

She clenched her other fist when her voice still came out stiff. She kept still while Tonowari's eyes raked up and down her figure, analyzing Kayla while keeping his expression neutral, lips sealed shut and making her nervous as the silence lingered. Even she could admit she deserved the awkwardness after her hostility toward him, but it still unnerved her.

Once she visibly squirms under his gaze, the chief looks away and continues his task, "I will not fault you for simply reacting to the dire news I provided. You are frustrated at the idea of a boy in danger. Children are sacred to Eywa. We would not blame you for simply trying to protect a child."

Ronal clears her throat and Tonowari's ears fall ever so slightly before returning to normal. Kayla felt as though she was having a fucking aneurysm as she witnessed the olo'eyktan of the Metkayina shyly smile up at the avatar as if he didn't have the power to kick her out of the village. To appease his wife, he simply adds, "But you are forgiven."

Satisfied, Ronal lowers to her knees, using a hand on Tonowari's shoulder to help keep her balance before making herself comfortable and placing the net over her lap like a blanket, "Come, Makayla te Suli. Join us."

She felt less irritated by the demand this time, her head still reeling about a mighty clan leader who managed to look less intimidating with just a sheepish smile. Tonowari hums in approval when Kayla finally kneels down to join them, "It's a good day to sit down with some simple work and let your mind relax."

Kayla could clearly hear what the pair was trying to say to her without plainly spelling it out. Deeply sighing through her nose again, she let the scent of the ocean take over her senses and her muscles visibly loosen up under her blue skin. The wind gently caresses her face, the beads in her braided hair moving in tandem like a dance. She takes a part of the fishing net and gets to work, letting her fingers mindlessly weave and mend like she had been taught in the past, clearing her mind.

The three of them work in silence as they often do nowadays, basking in the sun while listening to the sounds of ocean life all around them. Kayla listened to children playing in the shallow water, adult Na'vi indulging in casual chatter that is often drowned out by the occasional splash and the chortle of an ilu. Occasionally, Kayla would spare a glance in her company's direction, and for the most part, Tonowari and Ronal remained silent, eyes glued to their task. There was a time or two, however, when one or both of them looked her way and Kayla could feel the corners of her lips twitch into a faint smile. A pleasant warmth spreads through her body when she receives a smile in kind, even from Ronal. Once the tsahik smiled, Kayla was thrown back to the first time she witnessed such a sight, back when the tulkun returned and Ronal was conversing with her Spirit Sister. Kayla had tried committing that smile to memory given that Ronal had never done so before, but now it was directed at Kayla, and the avatar was struggling to look away from it.

Their peace is interrupted by the sound of a group of ilu approaching the dock nearest to the beach, chattering among themselves and causing a small ruckus. Looking up, Kayla spotted a group of teenagers, and as they walked closer she realized that two of those teenagers belonged to her. Neteyam and Lo'ak were walking with Tsireya, Rotxo, and Ao'nung, each of the teens looking elated or nervous by something.

Neteyam was the first to see Kayla and eagerly waved as they walked up to her, "Auntie! You will not believe what Lo'ak just did."

Kayla snorts in amusement, rising to meet him, net forgotten, "I can believe a lot of things. Hit me."

The boy pauses in his footsteps, sheepishly smiling up at his aunt, "Not seriously though, right?"

She laughed, the rest of her gloomy clouds finally disappearing, "It's just a saying, kiddo. What did he do?"

"He bonded with a tulkun! Can you believe it?" Neteyam reached over and gripped Lo'ak's shoulder, the younger boy looking slightly unsure by the praise, "My baby brother, bonded with the great and mighty tulkun, Payakan!"

"What?!" Ronal roared, getting up faster than Kayla could turn her head.

All teenagers are suddenly frozen to their spots, ears lowered in fear when they remember that Kayla wasn't alone. Ao'nung immediately stepped back at the sight of his parents rising to their full heights, fishing net fully forgotten, while Tsireya tried to play damage control, "Sa'nok, it is not what you might--"

"You look me in the eyes, maite, and tell me exactly what happened," Ronal eyed her daughter down, stepping close until they nearly touched, "Now."

Tsireya shrank in on herself, her eyes darting between her parents, Lo'ak, and then back again, "... We followed Lo'ak beyond the reef. We saw it happen. He... bonded with Payakan."

Both leaders stiffen at the confession, eyes darkening to the point where they made Kayla's attitude from earlier look like sunshine and rainbows. Tonowari was grim, great clouds storming in his eyes as he pointedly stared directly at every teenager, "Come with me. Immediately."

"Rotxo. Go and fetch Toruk Makto and his mate." Ronal demands.

The reef boy runs off the moment he is excused. Since Kayla wasn't dismissed or sent to get her brother, she assumed she was also supposed to follow the clan leaders and so opted to stay in the back of the line, behind the children as they all walked in shame, sticking close to Ronal and Tonowari.

The windchimes dangling outside their marui jingle in greeting as the group approaches, no one saying a word as Ronal beckons them all inside. Tonowari steps up into the pod and the rest of them follow, the children all gathering around the olo'eyktan while Kayla stays toward the back, leaning against the entranceway.

Ronal storms into the marui last and is the first to speak, directing her anger at both of her children while pointing at Lo'ak, "You allowed this! You allowed him to bond with the outcast!"

Tsireya breathes shakily, avoiding eye contact as her father slowly approaches her. Kayla sees movement out of the corner of her eye and notices Jake and Neytiri approaching the marui, hand in hand, their eyes instantly darting to her and then their sons, silently asking her what was happening. Kayla simply shook her head at their wordless question.

"Tsireya."

The poor girl's ears lowered in response to the chief hissing her name, her eyes on the verge of crying as she peered up at her father. Tonowari was relentless in this light, his voice didn't need to be loud and strong to sound so harsh as he muttered, "You disappoint me, daughter."

Tonowari ignores the hurt in Tsireya's expression while he turns to address Lo'ak at the same time he notices Jake and Neytiri finally arrive, pointing to the man who now stands behind the forest boy, "And you, son of a great warrior who has been taught better."

"Payakan saved my life, sir. You don't know him." Lo'ak quickly defends.

"No, Lo'ak." Tsireya gently intervenes.

Her father, quietly enraged and perplexed, gathers his thoughts and motions to Lo'ak, "Sit. Sit," Lo'ak slowly follows the demand, kneeling down across from the chief. When no one else follows suit, Tonowari abruptly shouts, "Sit down!"

Tsireya whimpers, quick to obey her father while Neteyam and Ao'nung slowly follow suit, scared to move too fast as if trying to avoid the wrath of a palulukan. Even Jake and Neytiri lowered themselves into a crouch, just outside the marui, looking in. Once the children are gathered around him, the chief blows sharply, fanning his arms out. It looked as though he was trying to expel whatever demon inside him had encouraged his wrath, collecting himself before he spoke in a more level tone, pointing at Lo'ak, "Hear my words, boy. In the days of the First Songs, tulkun fought amongst themselves," Ronal begins to pace in the background, hand on her heart as if to carry the weight of this story. Kayla, the only one other than Ronal who didn't sit, carefully watches the tsahik while listening to the olo'eyktan's words, "For territory and for revenge. But they came to believe that killing, no matter how justified, only brings more killing. So all killing was forbidden. This is the Tulkun Way. Payakan is a killer, so, he is outcast."

"I'm sorry, sir," Lo'ak exclaimed, "But you're wrong."

"Lo'ak," Neytiri hushed her son, wishing to reach out to him, "You speak to Olo'eyktan!"

"I know what I--"

"That's enough!" Jake roared, driving both Lo'ak and Neteyam to flinch. Even Kayla's heart was ambushed by a small wave of fear, the hair on her skin rising before she quickly stomped the fear down in her gut, letting hidden anger take over as she glared daggers at her brother.

Jake doesn't appear to notice Kayla, and Lo'ak bravely speaks up regardless of the consequences, "I know what I know."

Ronal snarls, displaying her fangs in distaste while Jake quickly moves, his shadow falling over Lo'ak as the boy curls in on himself and refuses to meet anyone's eyes. Jake loomed over his youngest son, teeth bared in barely contained rage, "That's enough," he then looked to Tonowari, "I'll deal with this one."

Without another word, Toruk Makto roughly grabs Lo'ak by the arm and pulls the boy to his feet, dragging him away while Neytiri quietly follows. Kayla considered this lecture over, pushing off the doorway of the marui and turning her head to the remaining forest boy present, "'Teyam."

"Coming." Neteyam rises to full height, respectfully gesturing to Tonowari and Ronal before moving to his aunt, his eyes still wary of them.

Kayla waits until Neteyam joins her side before leaving, holding her gaze on the two clan leaders as she steps outside the pod. Both Ronal and Tonowari stare her down, eyes searching for something in hers, likely seeing where she stood in all of this. She felt apprehensive and it showed on her face, ears lowered as she faintly nodded to the clan leaders before parting, her hand cupping the back of her oldest nephew's neck as she led him away, following their other family members.

She purposely keeps her steps slow and stalls for as long as possible, not wanting Neteyam and herself to walk in on Jake lecturing Lo'ak. Instead, Kayla has Neteyam tell her his side of the story as they walk through the village, trying her best to focus on her nephew's story instead of the pointed stares and hushed whispers she has now become accustomed to hearing. Now that her Na'vi tongue was stronger, she could finally hear what bystanders were saying, and she could faintly see the way Neteyam's ears drooped, only confirming that he had heard the whispers, too. But either for his or his aunt's sake, he didn't say anything about it and instead bravely continued his story. 

Once Neteyam finished explaining everything, starting from when Payakan first saved Lo'ak's life and ending on the events of today, the aunt and nephew return to the pathway leading home and brave themselves for whatever they might face. When they returned to the Sully marui, it appeared as though Jake had just gotten done lecturing Lo'ak and likely grounded him. The second son of Toruk Makto looked like he had just received terrible news, ears pinned back and eyes cast down to his feet, his tail tucked between his legs.

Neytiri and Jake both look up at the sound of Kayla and Neteyam entering the pod, both parents' arms crossed in front of them and tails both waving in annoyance. Jake takes one look at his sister and sees a storm brewing in her eyes, Kayla's gaze subtly flicking to Jake and then Lo'ak. Deciding he needed to get this over with and argue with someone who wasn't afraid to argue back, he steps away from Lo'ak and points to Neteyam, "Your mother will have a talk with you. I'm gonna walk your aunt home." 

Without another word, Jake marched out of the pod and led Kayla back out. They start walking down the pathway and Jake can already feel her eyes on the back of his head. He snarls with irritation, "What?"

"Was that really necessary?"

"He disrespected the olo'eyktan, Kayla," he tilts his head to eye her down with a knowing expression, "You can't disrespect Tonowari, not while he's letting us stay here in good faith."

Kayla rolled her eyes, "Relax. I already apologized about last night and I can see to it that Lo'ak does the same. But I didn't see it as Lo'ak disrespecting an elder. It sounded like he was explaining himself and his actions. Or at least he was trying to whenever you weren't interrupting him."

"It's clear that the Metkayina praise and respect the tulkun and their customs. Not only was Lo'ak outside the reef but he was bonding with a tulkun not even the Metkayina interact with."

"Why does this matter so much to you? Lo'ak is an outcast who bonded with an outcast--"

"He's not an outcast," Jake snapped, "He's Metkayina now and he needs to respect the rules the Metkayina set in place--"

"How could he have known? I was there, Jake. I was listening. Tonowari spoke down on his daughter for not properly informing Lo'ak or stopping him from bonding with Payakan," she snarled, "Not that you would've known that since you were too busy believing that your son was fully to blame. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought your family was only staying here as guests, not permanent residents. Since when did you become Metkayina?"

"It's hard to explain--"

"--Something that isn't true? Yeah, I gathered," Kayla was quick to interrupt, distaste ever prominent on her tongue, "You've been trying to explain that to me back when you said you were Na'vi and not human."

He sighs, resigned and tired by the circle he and Kayla keep going around in, "We already talked about this. I know you think it's easy to juggle two worlds and two different ways of life, but it's not. You'll learn this the longer you stay here."

There it is again. Another comment and another person talking down to her like she was a child. Kayla's only anger returns, flaring up until her own tail betrayed her inner thoughts, the appendage waving erratically behind her. "You can move to different planets, change how you look and how you speak, and move to different clans but that can never change who you are," Jake doesn't respond, instead keeping his eyes forward, focused on the jungle slowly getting closer. Kayla sneered at the clear ploy he was using to try and ignore her, "And sometimes... these people like to remind me. Do you know what the Na'vi call us and your children behind our backs? Vrrtep Mesmuk."

He briefly paused, playing the words in his head before turning his head toward his sister and spelling them out, "Demon Siblings. Who exactly is saying this?"

She shrugged, looking around as they continued to walk, not wanting to see his reaction, "I heard some Metkayina say it when I first arrived, and then once or twice while walking through the village. They're not like the Omatikaya. They don't know you as well as the Forest People do. You might be respected as Toruk Makto, but not as an individual. And neither are your children."

It was clear in his expression that he didn't fully believe her, "I thought we were past you being suspicious of everyone. I thought you trusted the Na'vi."

"Jake, I get I'm not the greatest in speaking Na'vi, but I understand insults when I hear them, even when I'm not meant to understand them. I don't trust people who openly judge me and my family without even knowing us. You've seen what they're capable of if they think we're lesser than them. Your own son got freaking hazed for God's sake! He could've died because of the chief's son's arrogance. Why should I trust someone like that?"

"Are you saying you'd rather be with the Sky People?"

"I don't trust them either!" She shouted back in self-defense, "The only people we can trust are the ones in this family. Trust no one but each other. That's what you and Tommy taught me!"

Jake winced, the words painful and a constant reminder of a troubled past, one that Kayla wouldn't let him easily forget. She continued to drill into him, "These people have done well to remind us that we're demons and nothing more. And unless you expect your son to grow fins overnight, he is Omatikaya and has the right to speak as one of them. Today I noticed how even though he has the right to speak as Omatikaya, you didn't allow him to."

Jake suddenly rears back, spinning around like lightning as his anger flares up again. He glares Kayla down as if he was able to set her on fire with just one look, "Don't tell me how to parent my son until you become a parent yourself. Until then, don't pretend to know what it's like."

Kayla's eyes widen, mouth still open in retort but no sound comes out. When the words sink in, her expression shifts, quickly becoming stone, unreadable, and dark. She stares blankly back at Jake, something vanishing as quickly as it appeared behind her eyes like something was nearly about to burst out but she carefully pulls it back. 

She chooses her next words cautiously like she's about to set off a landmine, "I know enough just by watching you fail. If I ended up having kids tomorrow, I'd already be a better parent because I learned what not to do as I watched you react the way you did today. You tried to parent me once, and you ended up abandoning me. And even though you didn't abandon your children, you still abandoned Spider. Forgive me if I don't believe you have the best track record for ace parenting."

Yet again, her words hit close to home and cut deep into Jake's chest, her words spit like acid now seeping into his skin. She held her ground and kept her gaze on him until he couldn't bear it any longer as if he was staring directly at a blazing sun. Jake breaks the exchange and returns down the path they came from without another word, leaving his sister just along the line of the jungle. His thoughts were a little childish and petty as he begrudgingly stated to himself that she could find the rest of her way back to her camp alone.

~~~~~~~~~

It was only after Jake left that Kayla decided to sever her link and slip back into her human form for the night. Returning to her campsite, she climbs up the tree and secures herself inside her nivi, her eyes slowly slipping shut as she drifts off.

She woke up in her human form lying on her back inside her link gurney. When she opened the gurney and glanced around, Max looked up from his clipboard as he stood beside her link bay, staring with concern through his glasses, "Back again? You do remember that you were just here last night, right?"

"I know, I know. I just..." She slowly sat up, rubbing her forehead, "Have you heard anything?"

"Honestly?" The scientist sighed, setting the clipboard down and rubbing his tired eyes, glasses pushing up to his forehead, "It's... too quiet. Radio silence. RDA channels don't appear to be active and even before you told us about the Recoms and Spider's whereabouts, we didn't hear anything about ships being sent out to the islands. Whatever is happening over there... Ardmore is keeping it top secret. She clearly doesn't want us to know about it even if there wasn't the off chance we couldn't hack their radio chatter."

Kayla simply nodded, hopping off the gurney and grabbing a sweatshirt she had thrown off to the side the night before, slipping her arm through it and then the other, "Okay."

Max peers back at her, hearing the exhaustion and defeat in her voice, "What is it?"

"I have a bad feeling."

He perks up, immediately thinking it had something to do with the neural link, "Nausea?"

"No, I mean... I think something bad is about to happen. Instead of getting further from trouble, Jake's family is now closer than ever."

Max notes the way Kayla's voice is distant and doesn't include herself in her equation about Jake's family, but the scientist wisely doesn't address it, "I know. Keep us updated as often as possible, alright? We won't be able to help if we don't know what's going on."

"Yeah. Have you seen Norm?"

"He volunteered for patrol tonight," she flashes a skeptical expression to which he explains, "Tarsem isn't taking any chances and has ordered double the security. He also thinks something is up."

"Alright. Let 'im know I'll be in my shack when he gets back."

"You got it."

After slipping on a mask and stepping out of the lab, Kayla zips up her sweatshirt and heads in the direction of her bunk, hands in her pockets and shoulders scrunched up, trying to look small and not someone who would be easy to approach and talk to. Luckily, she didn't have a problem getting to the Site 26 shack alone and slipped inside, taking off her mask and getting comfortable sitting at the table, pulling out Norm's whiskey that he now hid from Max by leaving it among Kayla's belongings.

There are more pictures decorating the fridge compared to when Kayla first moved into this place, newer than the ones she brought and the ones that were left behind sixteen years ago. Skimming through the new and recent pictures, she smiled to herself while inspecting one photo that had all of her nieces and nephews surrounding her human self, smiling at the camera together. Another picture had Lo'ak, Kiri, and Spider positioned close together and scrunched in front of the camera like they were taking a selfie, either making faces or in the middle of laughing. Another picture was of Kayla, in her avatar form, posed with Neytiri and Neteyam, all smiling. Kayla likes to put that photo next to another one, an older one, one that Kayla wasn't even a part of. It was a picture of Grace Augustine, in her avatar, holding Na'vi children close to her as they all smiled at the camera. Two of those Na'vi children happen to be a young Neytiri and her sister, Sylwanin. Kayla liked to put her photo and Grace's photo side by side to compare the similarities and differences in Neytiri throughout the years, starting from her eyes, smile, and change of fashion and jewelry.

The hiss of the decompression chamber interrupts Kayla's peace and she straightens up in her chair, pouring two glasses of whiskey just as Norm walks through the door, mask in hand while looking around until he spots her, "Hey, Max said you'd be here. Everything alright? You hear anything from Spider?"

She grimaced, "I doubt he has the means to call me himself, so..."

Norm sucked in a sharp breath and winced, stepping forward and sitting down across from her, "Right. So what's the plan?"

She slides a glass of whiskey to him, "Plan?"

He gratefully accepts the drink, taking a sip before responding, "Well, Max mentioned the Sky People are likely closing in on Jake's location. Are you gonna suggest that you guys move back home?"

Kayla scoffed, taking a sip of her own drink and rolling her lips, "Anything I say to Jake will just go in one ear and out the other, just like everything else I tell him."

"Hm," Norm sombers up, "I take it talking to him isn't going well then."

"It's like talking to a wall. He makes me feel like a broken record sometimes."

"He'll have to listen to you eventually. Maybe after you finish your rites of passage?"

"Which ones?" She asked sarcastically, "My Omatikaya trials or Metkayina?"

He tries his best to playfully smile, "Hey, the best of both worlds wouldn't hurt, right?"

She smiles bitterly. After all, isn't that the exact same thing she's been trying to tell Jake? She tilts her head back until she's able to finish off her whiskey in one gulp, feeling the pleasant burn slowly go down her throat and warm her stomach. Norm decided to fill in the void by talking about his day, telling Kayla how his patrol went and what he had been up to in longer and better detail than when she had initially asked the night before when she last visited. 

Whether it was the whiskey or the friendly chatter, Kayla visibly began to relax, her nerves from before vanishing as she pretended that, just for a moment, everything was at peace in the world-- maybe even the entire universe, "Thanks, Norm. I needed this."

"Anytime. Or at least until the whiskey runs out."

A/N: If you haven't seen it, here's an edit I made for this fic! If you have edits of your own or if you have fanart, please tag me in them I would love to see it!

Let me know either in the comments or in my inbox if you would like to be in the taglist! It's all about to go down in the next chapter so make sure you're the first to know about it 😎

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 17: Collar, Touch aversion

I’m not late, I merely ran out of time to upload this last night. I finished it yesterday it’s all good. We’re good. Perfectly fine. (<- girl who hasn’t even started on today’s yet)

Anyway I thought too hard about my theory of Dink getting empowered from Twilight’s injury and uhhhh. Yeah. Here’s this. It’s on the heavier side again.

Read on ao3

Warnings: captivity, implied torture, blood and injury, and discussion of death

———————————————————

Eight heroes stood outside of a large, dark structure, surrounded by trees that blocked out the sunlight.

The limited light cast the area into what felt like perpetual twilight, grim and dark, and Time looked up at the ruins with a tight feeling in his gut.

“I’ll bet you anything our missing hero is in there,” Legend murmured, and Time nodded, trying not to fidget with discomfort.

Something cold and dark was in the very air around them, something that made Hyrule pale, and Sky hold a little more tightly to his sword. It was dark magic, Time knew, but that only helped solidify to him that something was very wrong here.

They’d landed in the unfamiliar Hyrule a few days ago, all surprised when nobody could identify it. It had been months since they’d last gained another hero, and Time had thought for sure that eight was as large as their group was going to get.

But as they’d traveled around and spoken to people, it became clear there was another hero they hadn’t yet seen.

One who’d apparently been missing for as long as they’d been traveling together.

They had begun to search for him, and followed a sparse trail of clues to a place off the map they’d been given, and as Tine looked up at the dark ruins, he felt a heavy sense of dread settle upon him.

Are you in there, Link?

“You really think he’s here?” Hyrule asked quietly, and Time nodded.

“I do. Making it this far was extremely difficult... I would be shocked if he weren’t.”

“But remember what Rusl said?” Wild spoke up quietly. “The Hero here has been missing for months. What are the odds that we’d find him in the space of barely a week? Just like that?”

“What are the odds that any of us would ever meet in the first place?” Four countered with, and before Warriors could say whatever it was he’d opened his mouth to voice, Four plowed on. “There must be a reason. Just like everything else.”

“And I can feel a pull,” Sky said in a quiet voice. “One I’ve only felt with all of you.”

“Enough chatter, let’s go already,” Wind said impatiently, and they went inside the falling-apart structure, steps echoing off dirty floors.

They paused at the first split path and argued for a moment about whether sticking together or splitting up was best, but before Warriors and Legend could start shouting and alert whatever was here to their presence, Time decided splitting in half was the best way to search quickly. There seemed to be two main sections of the ruins anyway, and the two reluctantly agreed.

“Stay on guard,” Warriors murmured before they split, and they all nodded. You don’t have to tell me twice.

Time ended up with Sky, Wild, and Four in his group, and they trooped quietly through the vine-filled hallways, and down stairwells full of cobwebs and dirt.

The feeling of unease grew more and more heavy the deeper they went, and Time caught Sky clenching at his sword more than once. It was oddly oppressive in here, despite the plants that crept through cracks, and spiders in the corners, like a shadow was cast all over the entire structure.

It just felt... wrong.

“Wait, shh,” Wild said suddenly as they entered a particularly long hallway.

Time stopped walking, and Wild crept forward, his ears pricked. He turned towards a small grate in the floor, and crouched beside it, his face creasing as he listened. Wild motioned them over after a moment, and they all kneeled beside the tiny grate, listening intently.

The faint sound of someone talking echoed up through the floor, and Time strained his ears, trying to make out the words. He couldn’t hear anything though, but with the way Wild’s face was paling, he was fairly certain he could.

“It’s the Shadow,” Wild said after a moment, voice grim as he pressed his ear to the grate. “Something about... power, I think? Power and... enemies. Wait—”

He went quiet again, and as the minutes dragged on, his eyes widened.

“Time... I think he’s talking to the hero.”

Wild suddenly jerked back from the grate, and they all heard the agonized scream that came from below, no less horrible because of how far away it was.

Sky paled, and Time scrambled to his feet, the others right beside him.

“Look for stairs,” Time said in a short voice, and they all ran down the hallway, searching for doors.

It took them a long time to find one that led downwards, and by the time they did, the screams had stopped, along with the talking. There was no sound at all, and Time hoped desperately they weren’t too late.

They cautiously stole down the flight of stairs, moving quickly, but wary of going too fast and alerting the enemy to their presence. They were a long, spiraling set, and some stairs had crumbled, leaving gaping holes they had to sidle around.

The time it took them to go down seemed much too long, and Time guessed they were deep underground now, having gone down several floors. It was almost completely silent, and the dread tightened in his chest.

Let us not be too late, please.

The stairs spat them into a pitch black hall, the sound of water dripping somewhere nearby. They listened for any movement, but none was heard, and Four cautiously pulled out a lantern.

An old dungeon met their eyes, light glinting off of metal bars, largely rusted and bent. Nobody spoke as they stepped quietly down the hallway, and the oppressive stench of dark magic was even heavier. Time spared a thought towards Hyrule as they walked, glad he had gone with the other group.

If I’m feeling this awful, I can only imagine how bad it would be for him.

They reached a partially collapsed wall then, making it difficult to squeeze by, but they all managed, though Time had to pop off a few pieces of armor. The cell at the end of the hallway was only a bit further along, but Time froze, holding a hand out to stop the others.

Eyes were glinting at them from behind the thick bars.

“Hello?” Sky asked in a cautious voice, and Time carefully approached the cell when they received no answer, squinting through the low light. He reached the bars and peered through, and felt equal relief and horror rise in his chest.

A thin man, boy really, barely into his twenties at Time’s guess, stared at them, his face pale with dark lines etched onto his forehead. It was difficult to tell with the limited light, but Time could make out chains around both his neck and wrists, and blood, both dried and not, all over him.

“...Link?” he breathed, but the boy only closed his eyes.

“Here,” Four said quietly, him and the others having come up to Time’s side. He knelt at the lock on the door, holding some small metal rods, and a few moments later, had the door swinging open.

Time quickly took a step inside, but the boy bared his teeth in a snarl as he moved, something fierce and desperate in his eyes.

Time quickly stilled.

“Link?” he asked again, and the boy merely turned away, as much as he could with the way he was chained up.

“...Tricks are getting old,” he rasped, the same twang they’d encountered in Ordon coming through. “Could at least try somethin’ new.”

Time glanced at the others, and Sky made a helpless gesture.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Link,” Time said carefully, and the chained hero coughed out a laugh.

“That’s what they said last time. Always fake,” he rasped, and glared at Time, half-dried blood shining in the lantern light. “Not tricking me again.”

“We’re not a trick, we’re real,” Wild said sharply, moving to stand next to Time.

“You’re gettin’ way less creative,” Link rasped, eyes staring them dully. “Points for new characters... but that’s it.”

“But we’re really real, we’re here to get you out!” Sky said in disbelief.

The new Link only closed his eyes again. “Sure.”

They all looked at each other again, Time feeling helpless. He didn’t want to approach Link before he knew they were truly here to help him, but he thought they were just a trick. How could they convinced the broken hero they weren’t here to hurt him?

How many times has he extended trust to someone, and had it all been fake to react like this?

“Link, we’re here to help you,” Time tried again, extending a hand towards him. Link only bared his teeth again, and Time could see the slightly longer canines this time.

“Get away Shade,” he snapped, and Time stopped as he let out a wracking cough. “I’m not falling for it. Not again.”

“Link, is there anything we can do to convince you we’re real?” Four spoke up, and the hero stared at him.

He didn’t say anything for a long time, and Time almost wondered if he was purposely ignoring them.

“Kill me.”

Four took a step back. “What?”

“Kill me,” Link repeated, a thread of desperation leaking in to his abused voice. “The Shadow won’t, if you do then... I’ll know you’re not him.”

“But then you’ll be dead!” Sky said in horror, and Link let out a croaking laugh, that finished with a sound like a sob.

“I’m already not living.”

Four didn’t say anything, and Link looked away, his eyes closed against the lantern light.

“Old man? What now?” Wild asked in an unusually subdued voice, and Time took a deep breath, trying to ignore the metallic smell of blood that permeated the cell.

What now indeed?

“We spoke with Rusl before coming here,” Time said quietly, and the boy’s ears twitched in his direction. “And Ilia, and the mayor, and a boy named Talo and all sorts of people. Your whole village misses you, Link, they’ve been looking nonstop. The Queen has sent out countless missions, and the Resistance is working tirelessly to figure out what happened to you.”

“How... do you know all that?” Link whispered.

“Because we’re real,” Wild said as he stepped forward. “We spoke to all those people, not more than a week ago.”

“We’re other heroes like you,” Four continued, and Sky took his glove off, showing Link the triangles marked into his hand. He stared in shock. “This isn’t even all of us. We’re fighting to stop the Shadow who imprisoned you, who’s been ripping holes through time and empowering the monsters. We’re on your side.”

“We’re here to get you out,” Time finished, voice firm.

Link looked around at them all, something almost like hope in his eyes, and he swallowed, looking directly at Time.

“Tell me what Talo said.”

His voice trembled when he spoke.

“He said that if we find you, we should tell you that he expects make up days for all the sword lessons he’s missed,” Time said, and Link breathed out, closing his eyes again.

“Yeah. That’s him,” he whispered.

A weak laugh came from his throat, and Time stepped forward again, Link not stopping him. His eyes stayed closed as Time kneeled next to him, but his ears twitched as he listened to his steps.

“We’re here to get you out,” Time said softly, and placed a hand on Link’s shoulder.

Link jerked at the touch, and Time immediately removed his hand, but then Link looked up at him with tears in his eyes.

“Sorry, s-sorry it’s... it’s been...” he choked out, and Time carefully put his hand back on his shoulder, Link stiffening at the touch, but not pulling away.

Time carefully rubbed it as the others drew near, and Link swallowed, trembling slightly as they crouched beside him.

“You’re really heroes?” he whispered, and Sky nodded, a grieved look on his face.

“Every one of us.”

Four leaned closer then and studied the collar around his neck with a frown, carefully lifting the chain and studying it.

“Where’s the lock on these?” he asked in confusion.

“It’s magic,” Link rasped, seeming twice as exhausted now that he’d been convinced of their intentions. “Won’t come off.”

Sky stepped forward, a firm look on his face as he kneeled beside Link with the Master Sword in his hands.

“May I?” he asked, and Link’s eyes widened at the sword. He hesitated, then gave him a weak nod, and Sky moved into position.

Sky held the sword close to Link’s neck, Four carefully holding the chain steady, and he pulled, the Master Sword glowing and making the blood Link was coated in appear blue.

The collar suddenly lit up with runes, glowing an ugly red, and Link cried out, jerking like he’d been shocked.

“Hold him!” Sky shouted, and Time and Wild moved to hold Link’s head still while the Master Sword slowly cut through the chains. Link jerked at their touch, and let out a raspy scream as Sky cut halfway, blue sparks flying into the air.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Wild repeated as he held Link’s head, almost like he was trying to reassure himself, and Link wailed, his voice giving out partway through from the strain.

Time held him still, ignoring the blood and dirt he was doubtlessly getting all over him, and ran a hand through his hair when he let out yet another cry.

Hold on Link, you’re almost out.

The Master Sword let out a brighter glow, and the chain fell with a clank, Link falling limp and trembling in Time’s lap. The runes faded, and Sky quickly moved to his wrists and cut through those as well, though the thinner chains didn’t take nearly as long to fall to the ground.

“It’s done,” Sky panted finally, and Link let out a whimper.

“We should tell the others,” Four said quietly. “And hopefully get out of here before the Shadow comes back.”

Wild nodded and pulled out his slate, and Time and Sky began easing Link up, his face drawn with pain. Time tried not to nudge any of the vast amount of injuries covering him, but it was nearly impossible with how many there were.

Not to mention the countless scars visible through the blood, and the dark marks marring his forehead...

Time breathed out, and then picked him up, his gauntlets giving him enough strength to easily lift Link. Though, he wasn’t entirely convinced he needed them, seeing how thin Link looked.

How long has he been here?

“Let’s get you home,” Sky said quietly, and they left the cell, Wild talking quietly to Wind on his slate.

“Thank you,” Link croaked, in a voice so faint Time barely heard it. Time guided his head to his shoulder in response, feeling a sharp pang as Link flinched, and he sped his steps.

We’re getting you out, Link.

You’re safe now.

[babybluebex]

Ryd and N Side by Steve Lacy make me think of Dom (specifically in college)

oh college!dom is a continuous thought, like meeting him at a frat party (bc i can only imagine what greek life at cmu is like, bc my small tiny university's greek life is WILD) and like maybe he's in your bio lecture or something so you know he's around and you think he's super cute but you've never actually spoken bc there's like 60 people in your bio lecture but anyway, you see him at this frat party and you lock eyes from across the room and you hold his gaze for longer than you might've usually, but you had a beer in your hand and you were feeling pretty good so your confidence was somewhere else

and he starts to cross the room, obviously coming over to you, and your friend grabs your arm "holy shit!" and you're like "wuh??" and she goes "is that dominic sessa?" "who?" you ask, like doubly like who are you talking about? and who is dominic sessa? and your friend goes "the guy in the flannel shirt walking this way, he's an actor, and he's really good, and he's super hot, but i didn't think he was back on campus yet—" "oh, a theater student, whatever" you scoff and your friend is QUICK to correct you "no, dude, he was in a movie that was nominated for an oscar. he's got like a bafta or something, he's famous!" and at about that moment, dom approaches you, and you see that he has his own red plastic cup in his hand, his dab pen in the other, flannel and wolf tshirt and dirty white sneakers and messy hair, and he's so smooth and easy "you're in my bio lecture, right?" he asks and your friend about dies "uh, yeah" you nod, aware of your friend's heart attack happening as she grips your arm "you're... i know your name, i swear, you sit towards the back of the hall..." "i do" he says "you sit in the front row" "i do" you echo "sorry, it's, ah, not coming to me... i've had a little bit to drink" "no sweat" he chuckles easily "i'm dom" "that's right" you nod and you quickly tell him your name and introduce your friend, and dom nods and smiles at her, but he's focused on you the whole time (specifically your lips, and you're so glad your friend talked you into wearing lipstick and actually dressing up for the party) "you wanna go outside?" dom asks "i wanna smoke, and i can't really hear myself think in here" "sure" you nod, and your friend smiles at you and takes the hint "oh, i think see my friend over there! i'm gonna go say hi!" and leaves you and dom to navigate through the cramped house party and out to the front porch of the frat house, where it's significantly quieter and cooler than inside

"that's better" and he sinks into one of the fabric patio chairs, taking a pull on his pen, and when he speaks, the smoke curls off his lips in a way that makes your back stiffen "nothing against kid cudi, but..." and you laugh and occupy the chair across from him "do you live on campus?" and you nod "barton hall" (listen i KNOW cmu doesn't have a dorm called barton, dON'T YELL AT ME) and dom scoffs "what?! i'm not a freshman, barton isn't just a freshman dorm, it's just mostly a freshman dorm" "no, no, that's not why i'm laughing" dom chuckles "i, uh... the high school i went to was a boarding school, and the dorm i lived in senior year was called barton" "oh wow" and you lean forward with the intention of hearing him better, but he starts to pass you his pen "oh, no thanks" "cool" he mumbles "what's your major?" and you tell him, trying to reel in your geeky overexplanation of your field of study, whatever it may be, and he laughs his goofy little gasping laugh "wow, that's awesome" "what about you?" you ask, and he sorta goes a little red "acting" he says "theater, performance art, whatever you wanna call it..." "wow" you breath, and your friend's words circle in your head, how he allegedly won a bafta ("or something") and you decide to play it cool— you're sure millions of girls fawn over him every day for his work, and even though your ignorance is real, you don't want to give him the impression that you're only talking to him because of that (even though you're not) "what do you wanna do with that?" "see, that's the question" dom says "my granddad asks me that every time i see him, he doesn't get it, yknow? but that's what i wanna do— that's what i currently do, i just wanna understand the technique better and how to be a better actor" "currently?" you ask with confusion and dom bites his lip and lets it slowly release, obviously mulling over something in his head, but he doesn't answer you "you hungry?" he asks suddenly "i'm starving" and you shrug "i could eat" but his avoidance sets the mood for the rest of the night: he doesn't wanna talk about his job, so you won't

and you decide to walk to a nearby little joint, neither of you are in much state to drive and the buses stopped running for the night, and it's nice, just the two of you, sharing stories and getting to know each other, and he's a genuinely really great guy, pays attention to you when you talk and expresses excitement in stuff you're obviously interested in, he asks a question about your major and you're like "oh, that's like complicated, it gets into the technical weeds and shit of the field" and he shrugs "i'm an acting major. i'll never know that sorta stuff if you don't tell me. weed away" and like his hands are all over you, but in a nice way, hand pushed into your back pocket or arm around your shoulders, subtle signs to the guys you pass on the sidewalk there that, at least for that moment, you're his and when you get to the place, it's essentially a little hole in the wall, buzzy fluorescent lights and high tables and some tinny radio from the back playing rap music, and you order first, just a cheeseburger and fries and a coke, and dom gently pushes you aside before you can dig your card out of your pocket to pay and goes on with his order, looking at the menu sign, and he sorta scoffs "yeah, cheeseburger, fries... shit, why not, and a miller high life" and you get seated and you're playfully frowning at him "you didn't have to do that" "do what?" "pay for my food" and he shrugs "a gentleman can't just sit idly by and watch a pretty girl pay" "oh, is that what you are? a gentleman?" and you ball up the paper straw wrapper and lob it at him and he laughs "aren't i?" he asks "i suppose so" and you roll your eyes "but i doubt your judgement" "on what possible grounds?" and you eye the glass bottle of beer he's got in his grip "really??" "ok, y'know what, i have a valid argument" he starts and you playfully chastise him that no argument makes it ok to drink that shitty beer, and he goes "baby, they call it the champagne of beers for a reason!" and you register that he called you baby, but you don't comment on it "not valid, try again" and he sighs playfully "it's a joke i have with my-my uncle" and you notice the tripping over his words, but again you say nothing "do you have insta?" you ask, changing the subject, and dom swallows down a mouthful of miller "nah" he says quickly, and you get that sense of avoidance again, shaking his head "i've got snap, though" "well, let's get that, then" you tell him and start to grab your phone from your pocket "why? you wanna text me after tonight?" he asks with a smarmy little crooked smile "only to ask about our work for bio" you tease him

and you think the night's gonna be over after you eat, it's getting to be a little late, and he sorta takes your fingers in his as you leave the little joint, and he asks "you live on campus?" "you already asked me that" you say "i live in barton, remember?" "fuck, right" dom nods "got a roommate?" "yes" you nod, sensing what his next few questions will be "and she's part of the, like, catholic students association, so... might be best to go to your place" "oh, what?" dom asks "what would we do at your dorm that your catholic roommate wouldn't approve of?" and somehow his awkward big eyes and wolf tshirt and all sharp angles of the elbows and knees have totally disrupted your state of mind, because for once in your life, you're bold "i can think of a few things" you tell him, and dom tilts his head at you, that same crooked smile crossing his plush lips "name one" he says, and his finger touches your chin, keeping you from averting your gaze "alright" you say "i'd really really like your dick inside me, and i sorta don't think she'd appreciate that" "my place is good" dom says quickly, and you laugh as he whips an arm around your shoulders

and you get back to his place, a small apartment where he assures you that his flatmates are either gone or won't hear you, and you can hardly take in the sparse, college-boy decorating job in the front room before he's tugging you down the hall to a room with a little nametag taped to the door that says ANGUS TULLY in big, bold letters, and you start to comment that like?? is that his room?? that's not his name on the door?? but he's closing the door with his foot and kissing up on your neck before you can say anything, and you let yourself melt into his arms

he gently situates you on his bed and shucks off his flannel, and your hands fumble at his belt, and you groan a little "too dark, i can't see shit" and dom chuckles and leans over and flicks on his lamp, and your gaze follows his hand as it retracts from the nightstand, and you're met with the imposing feature of a large, silver, metal thing tucked behind his lamp, it's difficult to see from the angle you're at, but it's certainly there, and you furrow your eyebrows at it

and dom follows your eyes, and he sorta deflates, it's very obvious he had hoped that you wouldn't see the trophy, and he swallows hard "oh, um—" and you sit up a little to get a better look at the engraving on the base: DOMINIC SESSA - BEST YOUNG ACTOR, and in smaller font below it, CRITICS CHOICE AWARDS 2024

or something, as your friend had said. he didn't have a bafta, but he certainly had an award. you can tell that he's a little uncomfortable, his hands suddenly more fidgety than before, and you look back at him before you cup the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss, and he doesn't do anything weird, he kisses you completely normally, his hands smoothing down your hips and thighs to wrap your legs around his waist, and he breaks the kiss "fuck, m'sorry... i have to know what you're thinking about after you just saw that fucking thing"

and you sorta laugh "i'm thinking that i don't really care too much" you tell him "you're a cool guy, and i don't— i didn't recognize you when we first started talking, so... whatever, y'know? so what if my friend has an oscar?"

"first of all" and he steals a kiss and his hand slinks down to rub at you through your jeans "friend? i'm wounded, baby. and also, that's not an oscar, it's a critics choice award, they're two very different things—"

"whatever! i'm not a movie person!" you giggle "but why do you keep it on your bedside table? to impress all the girls you bring home?"

"well, you're the first" he says "are you impressed?"

"it's kinda freaking me out, to be honest" you tell him, and he huffs out a laugh

"we can put it away" he says and he gets up and grabs it like it's no big, and moves to his closet and puts it on a shelf before closing the door back "and it was there because my mom facetimed me last night and asked to see it, and i just didn't put it back"

and he comes back to you and starts to tug down your jeans while he kisses you, and he playfully whispers "you're all quiet now. want me to fix that for you?" "can you?" you ask him, and he smiles "i will" he says "if you tell me one thing" "which is?" and a flicker of something hints behind his eyes "you really didn't know who i was when i came up to you?" and you shake your head "you haven't seen the movie? or, like, even heard about me?" "wow, someone's got an ego suddenly" you scoff "i told you, i'm not a movie person. i haven't even seen that barbie movie that was really big last year" "oh, ok, hold on" he starts "i get not seeing my pretentious movie about grief and shit like that, it's not everyone's first choice, but barbie?! you haven't seen barbie?!" "dude, fuck off!" you giggle "do you wanna have sex or not?" "i do!" dom says quickly "but hand me my phone first" "why?" you ask, and feel around underneath you to where dom had discarded the stuff from his pockets, and you pass him his phone "i..." he starts, using both hands to type quickly, and your hands go to his belt, resuming the job you had started "am texting... ryan... and telling him about this..." "ryan...?" you ask "gosling" dom says casually and you look at him in confusion "he played ken?" and at your blank stare, he playfully sighs "you're killing me here, baby" "what're you telling him?" you ask, and dom tosses his phone aside "that i've got an absolute hottie in my bed right now" he says, going for your neck "and that she doesn't know who the fuck he is. you think i've got a big ego?" "well" you start, and his jeans come loose, and you push your hand in, past the band of his boxers, and you gently bite his bottom lip "guess you've got a reason, don't you?"

[intestinalemphasis]

"For the Long Haul"

(unwilling prey, digested with food, safe/non-gorey digestion)

-

It felt there would be no end in sight. All his world had become this thick, crushing darkness, and smothering heat, his life reduced to a hunk of meat inside a damp chamber, intent on taking its time with him. He was in for the long haul now, surely.

He'd been struggling for hours now, surely. Fighting and kicking and struggling, to no avail. He came close once, upon a massive belch the pred released that he pushed through to get to the back of their throat. But only a hand managed to get far enough up to feel the cold air of the outside world, before the pred took another thick swallow, sending them back to the abyss.

He grunted as he was jostled around again, feeling nauseous and dizzy from all the jostling and pushing around. He couldn't tell where gravity was going anymore, sometimes feeling upright, sometimes feeling upside down. These slick walls squeezed and massaged into him constantly, keeping him in place enough not to leave, but not so in place that he wasn't slipping around every other minute. He felt so gross, covered in slime and whatever stuff the pred had eaten beforehand. An ominous groan in his ears alerted the fact that he was on his way to becoming the very stew he resided in.

That was only added to the fact that a bunch of mush started raining onto him. He spat and struggled, pushing against the walls to no avail. His pred was eating again, filling his already too tightly cramped personal chamber with more food. Liquid poured in, sloshing around and basting him in...what was that, root beer?

The filled organ burbled around him, squeezing tight around its prey, until an almighty belch forced its way out through the pred's mouth, echoing back into their stomach walls. The prey tried to squeeze himself up their throat, following the trail of expelled air, but he was unsuccessful, sliding back down into the pit he was trapped in. Surrounded by mush. Mush that he would soon enough become a part of. Whether he liked it or not.

The uncomfortable jostling and sloshing continued. Liquid was filling the chamber even quicker, stomach acid and sweet soft drinks mixing together with food bits into a frothy slop. It was too hot, the prey couldn't tell if they were just sweating or if they were starting to melt. It was getting hard to breathe in this pit. They tried to struggle again, finding themselves weak and dizzy. Their body was starting to lose its shape in the muck, becoming squishy and sticky.

They pushed against the walls, begging to be let out of this prison. They could hear the pred chuckling, saying something unintelligible. Were they actually listening to them!? The prey pressed their hands against the surface of their pred's belly...and were met with a painful *SQUISH!* against them, kneading and massaging their food, and compressing them deeper into the slew they were becoming.

All he could hear around him now was the sloshing and gurgling of a happy, full belly, enjoying him, digesting him, turning him into a nutrient goop. His form was sliding down into a near puddle now, mixed with all the other contents of the stomach he was destined to be the meal of. The most liquified parts of him were being slurped down further, deeper into the pred's intestines to be pumped through. He whimpered, feeling the last of his being starting to slip away from him. He was food. Mush. Nothing more than another meal for this beast to have.

Another loud groan rumbled through the full organ, and the rest of the pred's dinner funneled down into the rest of their system...