#turns out you cannot put a waves of sunshine

[pollux-starsz]

what do you call it when a cryptid and a daydreamer get together? no idea but anyways,

DCA Slasher AU belongs to @wyervan! check them out!

Love your boys so much I have WAYYY too many writings in progress. An entire google document with almost 70 pages now (in fact this writing itself has 10,260 words in it. been working on it allll week LOL)

......the brainrot... its gotten me....... i need certain two serial killers to kiss me. for i am dying....

long writing under the cut!

Tangled Mornings

Kalamela’s footsteps were slow and unsteady as she trudged down the hallway toward the bathroom. Her head throbbed with the pressure of an oncoming cluster headache, and she could already feel the familiar ache building at the base of her skull. Sleep had been a distant memory; her dreams were more like fragments of anxiety that never quite pieced together. Every muscle in her body felt tight, exhausted, and she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d felt fully rested.

She reached the bathroom and flicked on the harsh fluorescent lights, wincing as they lit up the space around her. The reflection staring back at her made her groan aloud. Her hair was a tangled mess, her face pale with exhaustion, her makeup from the night before smeared in places she hadn’t even realized. The usual pep she carried was nowhere to be found—just the dull weight of a bad night’s sleep and the dull throb of her impending headache.

“Ugh. Not today,” she muttered under her breath as she dragged a brush through her hair, tugging at the knots. The brush snagged in her hair as she tried to make it look presentable. It was a losing battle from the start.

The sudden creak of floorboards outside the bathroom barely registered at first. Then, the sound of the bathroom door creaking open hit her, and she sighed. She didn’t have the energy for this today.

“Occupied!” she snapped, still bent over the sink, struggling with her hair.

Moon, however, didn’t seem to care. He didn’t even hesitate as he poked his head through the door with that lazy, nonchalant grin of his. The toothbrush was sticking out of his mouth like a defiant flag.

“Mmmph. Brushing,” he said, foam bubbling up from his mouth as if it were some sort of toothpaste rebellion.

Kalamela barely spared him a glance, though she could feel the annoyance creeping up on her. “Moon, there are other bathrooms in this house, y’know,” she said flatly, trying to wrestle the brush through another stubborn knot.

Moon shrugged casually, unfazed by her irritation. “Nah, this one’s closer.” He stepped inside, still brushing his teeth, and leaned against the doorframe as if he owned the place.

She rolled her eyes, still trying to get through the mess of hair. “Well, I’m gonna need you to back off before this bathroom becomes out of service.”

He only grinned wider, not the least bit intimidated. The bathroom space felt smaller the closer he got, and soon, he was standing behind her—just close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. Moon was tall, towering over her easily, but instead of just lingering behind her, he made himself more present.

Before she could say anything else, he leaned down, his breath warm against her neck as he stepped closer, pressing his chest against her back. Kalamela froze as his body blocked her from moving away. His large frame loomed over her, and suddenly, the mirror in front of them wasn’t just a reflection—he was in it too, inches away from her, so close that she could feel every subtle movement.

His fingers lightly cupped her face, his thumb and fingers gently holding her jaw, as if he were inspecting her. His breath tickled her ear as he leaned even closer, his chest pressing firmly into her back, causing her heart to skip, but she refused to let him see it. His fingers were light on her skin, almost like he was teasing her, but his closeness was anything but innocent.

“You look... a little rough today, K,” Moon teased, his voice soft but laced with a hint of something more playful. “Didn’t sleep well? Maybe thinking too much?”

Kalamela blinked slowly, her eyelids heavy from exhaustion and the dull, pounding ache in her head that had been steadily building. She tried to focus on anything else but how close he was, how his body practically engulfed hers, and how his fingers were so gentle against her skin, his touch there but not demanding.

But her reaction? Nothing.

Not even a twitch of a smile. Her face remained the same—stubborn, annoyed, tired. She just stood there, blinking at the mirror, her face an unreadable mask as Moon held her face in his hands. His thumb lightly brushed over her cheek, but she couldn’t summon the energy to even roll her eyes at him.

Moon’s grin faltered just the slightest bit as he noticed her lack of reaction. He held her face a little longer, trying to gauge her response, but there was nothing. No playful smile. No sarcastic comeback. Just silence.

He let out a frustrated breath, irritated that she wasn’t playing along. She wasn’t even looking at him, her gaze still fixed on her reflection.

He stepped back slightly, but only enough to move his face into her line of sight in the mirror. His eyebrow quirked as he watched her face—still expressionless—before he finally spoke again, voice tinged with a little more exasperation.

“Damn, you really are cranky and bitchy today, huh?” His words were sharp, but there was an edge of curiosity beneath the teasing. He wasn’t used to her being this... unresponsive.

Kalamela didn’t flinch. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but the headache pounding against her skull made her even more stubborn. She wasn’t going to entertain him today. Her head throbbed with each passing second, the dull pain in her temples making it harder to even hold her eyes open, but she wasn’t going to let Moon see her weakened.

“Yeah, guess I am,” she muttered, her voice flat as she finally pulled away from the sink. The brush in her hand went down a little too hard on her hair, but she didn’t care anymore. “Could be because I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck and, oh, I don’t know... maybe because I didn’t sleep last night?”

She wasn’t angry at him, not exactly, but the combination of everything—the headache, the sleepless night, and his blatant teasing—was wearing her thin. Her patience was already stretched to its limit, and he was pushing just a little too hard.

Moon didn’t move right away, still standing behind her. His gaze lingered on her for a moment, as if he were trying to process her reaction. She wasn’t giving him the playful banter he was used to, and it was honestly a little surprising. The usual back-and-forth between them was gone, replaced by this strange, quiet tension.

The silence stretched on for a few seconds before Moon’s expression softened ever so slightly.

“Alright, alright,” he said with a sigh, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I get it. You’re in a mood.”

Kalamela didn’t respond, just focused on the reflection of herself in the mirror, feeling the weight of the headache pressing against her temples. She didn’t want to deal with anyone, least of all Moon. But despite the irritation and exhaustion, she couldn’t completely block out the fact that the tension between them felt different this time. He was too close, and she was too tired to care about the usual push-and-pull of their teasing.

When she finally stepped away from the mirror, Moon didn’t say anything else. He just watched her for a moment longer, then turned to walk out of the bathroom without another word. His footsteps echoed faintly down the hallway, leaving her in the quiet emptiness of the space.

Kalamela stood there for a moment, rubbing her temples in an attempt to dull the headache. She stared at her reflection for a while longer, feeling the weight of the morning, and Moon’s lingering presence, settle in her chest.

Kalamela moved like a ghost across the kitchen floor, slow and quiet and completely out of sync with her usual colorful energy. She stood by the toaster, arms crossed, her face blank—but it wasn’t peaceful. It was that kind of blank that buzzed with frustration just under the surface.

Sun, busy at the counter with his box of cornflakes, peeked over at her again, puzzled. Her silence was throwing him off big time. She always greeted him, always had something smart or sweet to say, even if she was exhausted. Today? Nothing. Not even a glance.

He fidgeted a little with the cereal box flap. “Kandy… y’alright?”

Before she could reply—if she even planned to—Moon strolled in, still drying his hands on the hem of his hoodie. He looked entirely too smug for how early it was.

“She’s got a headache,” Moon said, like it was the answer to a riddle. He strolled to the pantry, yanked out his Cocoa Puffs, and added with zero tact, “And she’s in one of her moods.”

Kalamela didn’t even acknowledge him. Just leaned on the counter like she was trying to melt into it, eyes squinting half-shut like the light was personally attacking her.

Sun blinked and looked between them. “Uh… moods? Like—what happened?”

Moon made a thoughtful little “hmm” noise and wandered to the fridge for milk. “Oh, not much. Just walked in on her being cranky and cute. Tried to tease it outta her. Y’know… got real close, leaned in, held her face like I was about to whisper sweet nothings in her ear or bite her neck or something.” He glanced over his shoulder at Sun, smirking. “She didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just stood there like I was furniture. Staring in the mirror like I wasn’t even there.”

Sun choked on his cereal. “You what?!”

“I was tryin’ to make her laugh!” Moon defended, holding up both hands in mock innocence. “Or roll her eyes or punch me, something. But nah. I got nothing. Not even a glare.” He turned back to the bowl and poured his cereal like a man reliving a spiritual defeat. “She’s that far gone.”

Sun tilted his head, brow furrowing. “Why would you even do that?”

“’Cause I’m a menace,” Moon said flatly, then jabbed a finger toward Kalamela. “And she usually bites back. I poke, she snarls. It’s our thing. But today?” He gave Sun a pointed look. “Today she just let it happen. Didn’t even blink. That’s not normal for her.”

Kalamela finally spoke, her voice hoarse and low. “You could’ve just minded your business.”

“Oh, but that’s boring,” Moon said breezily, flopping into a chair at the table with his bowl. “I was tryna see if you still had a pulse.”

Sun glanced at her, a little more serious now. “You really don’t feel good, huh.”

She didn’t answer. Just quietly retrieved her waffles from the toaster and set them on a plate, moving with mechanical focus. The microwave buzzed in the background as she added syrup and butter without really tasting it.

Moon took a bite of his cereal, crunching obnoxiously. “Told ya. Cluster headache. She gets ‘em sometimes. Real nasty ones.”

Sun frowned. “Does she need to lie down?”

“No,” Kalamela muttered, finally sitting down with her plate. “I need to work.”

“You sure?”

She just gave a small nod and kept eating.

Moon leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “She’s stubborn. Don’t worry, she’ll be fine. Probably snarl at a customer and then feel better.”

Sun gave a soft little laugh, though his eyes lingered on her with quiet concern. “Okay… just tell me if I can help. Seriously.”

Kalamela nodded again. That was all she could manage.

Moon? He just kept munching Cocoa Puffs, like this was any other morning.

Except it wasn’t.

The door to Crystal Cove hissed shut behind Kalamela as she left for work, sunglasses perched low on her nose despite the clouds hanging stubbornly overhead. The air outside was heavy, cool but sticky, and it only worsened the dull pressure pounding behind her right eye. The headache was a beast today, tight and biting, coiling just behind her temple like it was waiting for her to falter. But bills were bills, and she had mouths to feed—Honeybun needed his favorite crunchies, and Mango had been throwing seed shrapnel around the apartment like a tiny, vengeful grenade artist.

Her rollerblades clicked down the sidewalk, fast and aggressive, every stride a little sharper than usual. She knew she looked like she’d been dragged through the wringer—hell, she felt it—but the warm buzz of her drive-in job offered a strange kind of comfort. She liked the simplicity of it. The chatter. The predictability. And the occasional teenage drama she got to eavesdrop on while balancing five milkshakes at once.

Meanwhile, across town, the arcade flickered to life like a waking creature. Neon lights lit up row after row of game cabinets, casting soft colored reflections across polished floors and plastic tokens.

Moon leaned back in his chair, casually crunching his cereal as Sun shot him a look. The tension from the bathroom scene was still hanging in the air, and Moon was just loving it.

Sun broke the silence first, shaking his head. “You’re really something else, you know that?”

Moon smirked, not even a little bit fazed. “Yup, that’s me. The one and only menace.”

Sun let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. “She’s got a headache, Moon. Maybe don’t poke the bear today, yeah?”

Moon just shrugged, clearly unbothered. “It’s not like I was trying to bite her neck or anything. I was just seeing if I could get a reaction out of her. You know, like we always do.”

“Yeah, well, she wasn’t in the mood for it today,” Sun shot back, now giving Moon a more pointed look. “She’s not gonna entertain you when she feels like garbage.”

“I know, I know, but I was just testing the waters!” Moon said with a lazy grin, leaning back further in his chair. “She’s usually so... interactive, you know? I lean in close, get her riled up, and we’re off to the races. But today? Today, it was like I was talking to a brick wall.”

“Could be ‘cause she’s got a massive headache and didn’t sleep,” Sun added, a little more irritated now. “So yeah, maybe cut her some slack. She’s not a punching bag.”

Moon let out a dramatic sigh, pretending to be put off. “Ugh, fine. But you know what I mean. It’s like... she was there, but she wasn’t. It was like I wasn’t even in the room with her.”

Sun shook his head, voice dry. “You really think that’s a good idea, not being in the room with her?”

Moon didn’t miss a beat. “She didn’t seem to mind,” he said, munching on his cereal. “In fact, she didn’t even look at me once. Just kept staring at the mirror, like I was some background prop.”

Sun raised an eyebrow, giving Moon a look that said, really?. “You're seriously that surprised she didn’t bite your head off?”

Moon shrugged, unbothered by the insinuation. “Hey, she usually would’ve given me something. A glare. A snarky comment. A punch to the shoulder. But nothing today. She just let me do whatever.”

Sun gave him a flat look. “Maybe she was just done with your crap.”

“Aw, c’mon, I’m fun,” Moon said, rolling his eyes but still looking smug. “She loves it when I mess with her. She just... didn’t have the energy for it today, I guess.”

Sun crossed his arms and leaned back, giving Moon a skeptical look. “Uh-huh. Sure. That’s why you always push it, huh? You’re a glutton for punishment.”

Moon grinned, completely unfazed. “What can I say? I like to live dangerously.”

Sun just rubbed his forehead in frustration. “You’re ridiculous. But whatever. I don’t think you need to keep trying to get under her skin when she’s like this. She’s already dealing with enough.”

Moon paused for a second, eyeing Sun’s more serious expression. “Yeah, alright. I get it. I’ll give her space... for now.” He took a bite of his cereal, clearly not thrilled about the whole situation but willing to let it go for the moment. “But if she snaps back at me later, I’ll know I’ve won.”

Sun rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

Moon’s grin didn’t fade. “Yep, that’s me.”

Meanwhile, back at Crystal Cove...

Kalamela dragged her feet across the greasy tile floor of the drive-in, her entire body aching in ways she couldn’t quite describe. The headache was still there, a constant pulse behind her right eye, but now it was competing with the dull ache of her feet from standing too long. The shift had already been hell—and it wasn’t even halfway through.

The first thing that greeted her when she stepped behind the counter was a mountain of sticky trays and spilled soda cups, the remnants of customers who apparently thought it was funny to just leave their trash everywhere. The burger grease smeared across the counter looked like it was in there for life. The smell of fried food and spilled milkshakes was beginning to blend together in an almost suffocating fog.

A customer at the far end of the drive-in leaned out of his car window, waving like he was trying to flag down a helicopter. “Hey, you! Took you long enough! Can I get my damn order?”

Kalamela didn’t even look up. “It’s right there on the tray,” she muttered under her breath, already shuffling toward the window, grabbing a rag to wipe down the sticky counter as she went. The last thing she needed was a lecture about timing from someone who probably couldn’t even see past the greasy spoon in front of him.

She handed over the bag of food with a smile that was more of a grimace, her muscles stiff from the day’s non-stop demands. The customer barely said thank you before speeding off, leaving her alone in the back again.

The lunch rush had come and gone, but it hadn’t slowed down. Her arms were sore from carrying tray after tray of food out to impatient customers. The line at the window never seemed to shorten, and no matter how fast she moved, there was always something else demanding her attention—whether it was a drink spill, a messed-up order, or another customer who was too important to wait.

Her uniform, if you could call it that, was a chaotic mix of grease stains, splashes of ketchup, and whatever else had been flung in her direction during the madness. By now, she was pretty sure her hair had been through more trauma than it could handle, the messy bun falling apart with every swing of her head. She didn’t care anymore. Nothing felt right. Nothing felt like it was going to let up anytime soon.

“Can I get a refill on my milkshake?” someone from the back booth shouted, snapping her out of her frustrated haze.

Kalamela blinked, pausing for a second. Her legs felt like they were about to give way, but she had to keep moving. The shift had to end at some point, right? She was just about to answer when another tray of food slipped from the counter, and she groaned audibly.

Why was today like this?

She grabbed the spilled fries, muttering curses under her breath as she moved to collect everything. If she had any hope of keeping her head above water today, she’d have to power through it. The constant mess. The endless stream of rude, complaining customers. The greasy air. And the annoying jingles of the drive-in's speakers blasting in the background as if they had a personal vendetta against her sanity.

As she made her way back to the window, trying her best not to look as worn out as she felt, her eyes fell on a group of teenagers parked just a few spaces away, laughing and shouting over each other. They were holding their phones up and making a big show of taking photos of their food like it was some kind of life-changing experience.

Kalamela wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the only thing she could manage was an exhausted sigh as she slid the tray of fries through the window to a waiting customer. This was life today, apparently.

She just had to make it through a few more hours.

The sound of the bell above the door jingled, and she glanced up for the umpteenth time today. A new group of people had walked in, their loud chatter only adding to the noise that was already spinning in her brain.

Time went by and now it cycled back to the Arcade.

The final ten minutes of the shift dragged on, each second feeling heavier than the last. The usual post-busy buzz of the arcade had quieted, leaving behind the faint hum of machines and the occasional rattle of a coin sliding into a slot. Sun leaned against the soda machine, legs outstretched as he let out a long, exaggerated sigh. The day had been a grind, but it was almost over.

Moon, crouched behind the counter, was hunched over a jammed drawer, muttering curses under his breath as he twisted the screwdriver with little patience. His hoodie was rumpled, sleeves rolled up, and his focus was sharp. He had a look of pure annoyance, the kind that came from dealing with the kind of machinery that seemed to malfunction just to mess with him.

"Seriously, why do we always get stuck fixing this junk?" Moon grumbled, wrenching the drawer open again with a soft thud.

"Because we're too good for the easy jobs," Sun quipped lazily, not moving from his spot.

Moon rolled his eyes, clearly not in the mood for jokes. "Yeah, tell that to the broken drawer."

Just as Sun was about to reply, the phone rang, shrill and unexpected in the stillness of the arcade. Sun blinked in surprise; the phone wasn’t exactly a hotline for emergencies. Nobody ever called this number. He dragged himself off the soda machine, a groan escaping as he trudged over to answer.

"Superstar Arcade, Sun speaking," he answered, voice flat but polite, even though his exhaustion was starting to show.

"Hey, Sunshine," came Kalamela’s voice, a little muffled but still familiar. Sun immediately straightened up at the sound. "I’ve got a bit of a situation."

Sun raised an eyebrow, shifting the phone against his ear. "What happened?"

"My bike broke down. I’m at the old auto shop on River. I... uh, can you guys come pick me up?" She sounded more annoyed than anything, but there was a slight edge to her voice that told him it wasn’t just a minor inconvenience.

"Of course," Sun said, not skipping a beat. "Stay put. We’ll be there in ten."

"You’re the best," she said, but Sun could hear the faint sarcasm there, like it was just another minor hiccup in her day. The kind of thing you roll with when you’ve had a crap shift.

"Yeah, yeah. Hang tight," Sun replied, hanging up the phone. He turned to Moon, who had already started to move toward the door, coat in hand.

"You know where to go?" Moon asked, his tone dry but casual.

"River," Sun replied, grabbing his jacket. "Old auto shop."

"Great," Moon muttered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Another scenic drive at night."

Sun shot him a look, more tired than annoyed. "Stop complaining. Let's go."

The door swung open with a soft creak as they stepped out into the cool evening air. Moon pulled the keys from the wall with a flourish, the jingling sound too familiar at this point. The car was parked a few spaces away, and the drive to the auto shop would take no more than ten minutes, but Sun didn’t mind. He could use the break, even if it was just a quick ride.

Moon threw himself into the driver’s seat, slinging the keys around his finger before tossing them to Sun. “You’re in charge of the music. I’m driving, but I’m not responsible for your taste.”

Sun smirked, flicking the keys between his fingers before tossing them into the ignition. “You’re lucky I’m even letting you drive.”

“Oh, I know,” Moon replied, giving a sharp look as he started the engine. “I’m basically your chauffeur.”

Sun’s eyes rolled, but he didn’t say anything else. The drive was quick, with only the sounds of the engine and the occasional murmur of Moon’s half-formed complaints filling the space between them. As they pulled up to the auto shop, Sun could see Kalamela sitting on the curb, her back slouched against the cracked pavement, motorcycle resting awkwardly beside her.

Sun threw the car into park and was out of the door before Moon could finish his sarcastic remark. “There she is,” Sun muttered, walking toward her with an exaggerated yawn.

Kalamela looked up as they approached, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Took you guys long enough," she said with a raised eyebrow, but the frustration was already gone, replaced by her usual cool demeanor.

“Had to wait for Moon to finish complaining,” Sun teased back, the weariness in his voice replaced by his usual light sarcasm.

Moon rolled his eyes from behind Sun, holding up a hand as he approached. “It’s a gift, really. You should try it sometime.”

Kalamela let out a short laugh, standing up and dusting herself off. "I swear, you two are the most dramatic pair I know."

Sun held up his hands, grinning. “What can I say? We aim to please.”

The ride back was quiet—though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Moon’s hands gripped the wheel lightly as he drove, his focus sharp and methodical, while Sun sat beside him, lazily fiddling with the radio. The road was familiar, their route worn by routine, but it felt different tonight, quieter, like the entire world was holding its breath, waiting for something. Maybe it was just the end of the shift, the lingering exhaustion in the air, but it hung there, a little heavier than usual.

Kalamela leaned against the passenger window, her forehead resting against the cool glass as the blur of city lights passed by. She had kicked off her boots earlier, now resting her feet on the floorboard, arms crossed tightly over her chest. The weight of the day pressed on her like a vice, and she didn’t care enough to hide it. The longer the drive went on, the more her frustration from earlier began to creep back in.

“So, what happened with your bike?” Sun asked, his voice breaking the silence. His words came out light, teasing even, though there was a small undertone of genuine curiosity. “You get stranded on the side of the road, or did it just decide to up and die?”

Kalamela didn’t look at him. She just stared straight ahead, her eyes narrowed as she responded, her tone sharp. “The chain snapped. Pretty much all my bad luck at once.”

“Oh, that’s it?” Sun smirked, his voice still carrying that teasing lilt. “Was hoping for a more dramatic ‘stuck on the side of the highway with no service’ kind of story.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Kalamela shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m not that dramatic.”

Moon chuckled dryly from the backseat, his eyes briefly flicking to the rearview mirror. “Isn’t that your whole thing, though? Dramatic, chaotic, always in the middle of something?”

Kalamela glared at him but didn’t respond, choosing to roll her eyes instead. She could feel the tension slowly creeping back in, like it was following her home. “Sure. If you want to make my life sound like a shitty soap opera.”

“Hey, wouldn’t be much of a show without the drama,” Moon retorted casually, turning his attention back to the road as he weaved through the streets.

Kalamela didn’t feel like engaging with him further. The day had been long, and the sarcastic remarks coming from both of them only reminded her of how much she just wanted to be left alone for a bit.

Minutes passed, and soon they were pulling up in front of her house. The familiar sight of her front porch, the garden lit by the soft glow of the streetlights—everything looked still, almost like nothing had changed. Sun was the first to open the door, stretching his arms above his head with a groan. "Home sweet home," he muttered under his breath.

Moon followed suit, his steps slow but deliberate as he pulled the keys from the ignition. “Try not to wreck anything on your way inside. I’d hate to have to fix whatever mess you make.”

Kalamela, still irritated from earlier, didn’t even bother with a response. She simply opened the car door and climbed out, dragging her feet as she made her way up to the front door.

“Thanks for the ride,” she said, voice clipped, not looking at either of them as she reached for her keys. She didn’t feel like pretending she was in a good mood anymore.

“No problem. You’d do the same for us, right?” Sun replied, his tone light as he adjusted his jacket.

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered. “But not with that much enthusiasm.”

“I’m sorry, did you just insult me?” Sun’s voice had the same teasing edge as always, but it was clear he was just giving her a hard time.

Kalamela shot him a look over her shoulder, her face expressionless. “Maybe.”

“See you inside,” Sun said with a shrug, stepping back toward the sidewalk. He made his way toward the house, leaving Moon to follow her inside.

The door creaked open, and as soon as it did, she immediately tossed her bag on the couch, flopping down beside it with a dramatic groan. “God, finally,” she muttered, letting her legs sprawl out in front of her.

Moon wandered in behind her, his hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. “Tough day, huh?”

“Yeah, real tough,” she shot back, letting her body go limp as she sank deeper into the couch. “I’m really living the dream over here.”

Moon flopped down next to her, his legs splayed out in an almost identical fashion. “I can tell. You’ve got that ‘I’m done with everything’ look.”

“Gee, thanks, that’s exactly how I’m feeling,” she replied dryly, her eyes scanning the ceiling as she tried to relax.

Just then, the sound of running water could be heard in the background, and Sun poked his head back into the living room, still toweling his hair off. “I’m just gonna shower, try not to burn the place down while I’m gone.”

Moon glanced at him, his expression unamused. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure she doesn’t break anything.”

Kalamela sat up slightly, her eyes flicking to Sun. “I’ll make sure I don’t break you if you don’t stop talking.”

Sun grinned before disappearing back down the hallway, leaving Moon to sink further into the couch.

For a while, there was silence, broken only by the sounds of the house settling and Sun’s voice faintly coming from the shower. Kalamela closed her eyes, the exhaustion from the day catching up with her. She wanted to sleep, to not think about the frustration she had felt earlier or the mess she’d left behind at work. But despite how much she just wanted to zone out, her mind wouldn’t shut off.

Moon, on the other hand, was unbothered, his eyes flicking toward the TV, though he didn’t pay much attention to what was on. Instead, he let the sounds of the night fill the space.

After a few more moments of quiet, he turned to her. “You know, we could’ve done something more fun tonight. Could’ve gone to get some food or something.”

“I don’t need your pity night out,” she shot back, her voice a little sharper than she intended. “I just need to sit down and not deal with any of this for five minutes.”

The ride back to the house was a bit quieter than usual, but Moon’s presence in the car was still as teasing as ever. Every time the tires hit a bump in the road, he’d jolt forward dramatically, slinging his arm over the backseat like he was trying to stretch into her space. Kalamela wasn’t in the mood to even bother telling him to knock it off, though. The exhaustion was creeping in, and she just needed to get home.

Once they reached the house, the front door creaked open with a slight groan, and the chill from the night air rushed into the house as they stepped inside. Kalamela could already feel the tension from the past hours begin to ease as she walked across the entryway, a deep sigh escaping her lips.

Moon kicked his shoes off at the door, tossing his jacket on the nearby chair. He was already making his way towards the living room, but not without sending her a teasing glance over his shoulder. “Race you to the couch,” he said, not even waiting for a response before he practically sprinted the short distance, nearly tripping on the rug as he threw himself onto the couch.

Kalamela just rolled her eyes, still standing by the door for a second as she pulled off her jacket. Her legs felt like they were made of lead, and it was all she could do to shuffle toward the couch. She sank into the cushions, letting out a long groan as she collapsed into the soft fabric. The weight of the day pressed into her bones, and all she wanted was to just… not think for a moment.

Moon was already sprawled across the couch like he owned the place, one arm hanging lazily over the backrest, and he didn’t miss the opportunity to push her button. “I wasn’t serious, y’know. You didn’t have to take the challenge literally,” he teased, his voice all too amused as he gave her a side-eye.

She shot him a look, not bothering to muster much of a response. “If you call that a race, I’m taking a nap,” she muttered, half-laying down, her legs draping over the edge of the couch. Her eyes closed for a second, her head resting against the cushion.

Moon’s smirk didn’t fade. He shifted next to her, just a little too close for comfort, though his posture remained casual. He leaned his head back and stretched his legs out, but not without brushing against her side. The shift in his body wasn’t accidental, and he definitely knew how much it would irk her. “Mm, you’re no fun when you’re tired,” he quipped, voice teasing, but the way he shifted even closer didn’t go unnoticed.

She rolled her eyes, but the smallest flicker of a smile threatened to pull at her lips. “Go away,” she muttered, but her words didn’t hold the usual bite. Instead, there was a fatigue that softened her tone, something that Moon noticed right away. His eyes flickered over to her, gauging her response, but he didn’t budge.

“Go ahead, take a nap. I’ll just be over here, stealing the blankets,” Moon continued, his voice low, but not completely sincere. He was testing the waters, seeing how much he could push without getting her to snap back at him.

Kalamela wasn’t in the mood to fight, so instead, she flopped onto her back with a groan, her hand covering her eyes. “I’m not even gonna dignify that with a response,” she sighed, her voice barely more than a murmur.

Moon didn’t take the hint, though. Instead, he reached over, his hand lightly brushing against her side. He wasn’t grabbing or holding her—no, it was just a soft touch, teasing and subtle enough that it was hard for her to ignore. She felt the warmth of his palm for a split second before he pulled his hand back, clearly just messing with her.

“Nice,” Moon commented, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “You’re definitely not as cranky as you were earlier. Is it just me, or are you finally giving in to the charm?”

She didn’t answer immediately. The hint of his closeness was getting under her skin in a way she couldn’t ignore. But she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of showing how much it bothered her. Instead, she pressed her palms against her face, rubbing her eyes with a slight groan. “I don’t have the energy for you today,” she muttered, though her voice lacked its usual sharpness.

Moon’s grin only widened at that. “Oh, I know,” he said softly, his voice trailing off as if he was savoring the moment. He shifted again, rolling just slightly closer to her, the space between them getting smaller by the second. He could feel her tension, even if she didn’t admit it, and it seemed like he wasn’t about to let it go.

“You sure about that?” he asked, his voice barely more than a low hum, the teasing edge still present in every word. He leaned in just a little, his breath warm against her ear. “You’re getting all quiet now. Gotta admit, it’s kinda cute when you’re not biting back.”

Kalamela's breath hitched slightly as he leaned in, his presence suddenly overwhelming. She could feel the warmth of his body so close to hers, the softness of his breath sending a shiver through her that she didn’t expect. Still, she kept her eyes closed, trying to focus on anything other than the fact that he was so close, so very close.

“Don’t start with me, Moon,” she warned, but even she could hear the faint crack in her voice, betraying how close his teasing was getting to breaking her composure.

He paused for a beat, as if savoring the silence between them. Then, just when she thought he might back off, he shifted again, his hand brushing against her side once more—light, deliberate, and enough to make her skin tingle.

“Maybe I’ll just keep doing this until you crack,” he said, his voice dripping with mischief.

Kalamela’s breath hitched again, and for a moment, she couldn’t tell if it was the exhaustion catching up with her or the sudden closeness that made her heart race a little faster. Either way, she knew she couldn’t take much more of his teasing. “You’re impossible,” she muttered under her breath, not sure whether she was irritated or amused.

But Moon didn’t give her a moment to respond. Instead, he leaned in just slightly closer, the playful edge in his voice dropping lower. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Kalamela was almost halfway to drifting off when she felt it—a shift in the air, like something was about to happen. Her eyes snapped open, but she didn’t have time to react before Moon’s hands gripped her by the waist with surprising ease. Before she could even start to protest, he pulled her up from the couch, lifting her effortlessly and flipping her onto her back.

“Moon, what the hell?!” she snapped, her voice thick with annoyance. She barely had a chance to get her bearings before she was sprawled across him, her chest pressed firmly against his, legs tangled together in a way that made her heart skip just a little faster.

Moon let out a soft chuckle, his arms loosely wrapped around her, keeping her right where she was. She wasn’t going anywhere. “You’re in my space now, K. What are you gonna do about it?” he teased, his voice low and smooth, though there was an unmistakable smugness to it.

Kalamela, despite her frustration, couldn’t help but feel the heat rising in her chest. She glared down at him, her face inches away from his, but she wasn’t going to let him see how much she was struggling to keep it together. She was still tired, head aching, and his constant teasing was making her head spin. The fact that he had so easily pinned her down didn’t help either.

"Moon, you are such a pain," she growled, trying to shift her body to escape from his grip, but he only tightened his hold. It wasn’t painful, just firm enough to make it clear she wasn’t going anywhere.

He just grinned up at her, that mischievous spark still in his eyes. “Mm, I’m starting to think you like it when I’m a pain.” His thumb, almost too casually, slid across her cheek, just lightly grazing her skin. The touch was enough to make her breath catch for a second, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of reacting.

“I swear, Moon,” she muttered, grinding her teeth. “If you don’t get off me in the next five seconds, I’ll—”

He cut her off, shifting ever so slightly, and once again, his hand—strong and steady—cupped her face. His fingers brushed along her jawline, a teasingly tender touch that made her skin tingle, but there was something else in the air now. He was leaning in, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, “You’ll what, K? You gonna yell at me some more? I’m already getting the vibe you’re too tired for that.”

Her stomach churned as she felt his closeness, the warmth of his chest against hers, but she refused to let it show. Kalamela could feel the flush creeping up her neck, but she wasn’t going to let him see how much he was getting to her. Not now. Not when she was so damn annoyed.

“I’m gonna make you regret this,” she said, voice flat, though the way she said it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than anything else. Her hands were pressed flat against his chest, trying—unsuccessfully—to push herself away, but Moon just grinned up at her.

“You keep saying that, K,” Moon said, his voice low and teasing, but the hint of something deeper lingered behind the words. “But you never do.”

Her eyes narrowed, her grip on his chest tightening for a moment before she relaxed. “You’re really pushing your luck, you know that?” she spat, her usual sharpness still laced in the words. But the way Moon’s fingers slowly, deliberately, slid from her jaw to her neck, tracing the curve, made it hard for her to stay angry. The teasing glint in his eyes was getting to her.

The worst part? She knew it. And that made it all the more frustrating.

“I’ve got plenty of luck to push,” Moon responded, his grin widening into something more smug. “You should try it sometime. Just let go for a second. Might be nice to not be a cranky bitch all the time, huh?”

Kalamela’s face flushed, but this time, it wasn’t just from irritation. There was something else in her chest—an irritatingly strong pull toward him. But she’d never give him the satisfaction of seeing it. She shifted again, but this time, he didn’t let go. His fingers gently but firmly wrapped around the back of her head, pulling her even closer.

“Stop it,” she grumbled, but the softness in her voice was like a crack in her armor. It wasn’t as firm as it usually was. The tension between them, the closeness of their bodies, was doing things she didn’t want to admit. And Moon? He was all too aware of it.

His other hand slid down to her waist, holding her against him, and with a lazy, teasing movement, he gently rocked her just enough to make her stomach do that damn fluttery thing that she definitely didn’t want to admit to. “You want me to stop, huh? You sure? I could go all night, K.”

She exhaled sharply, exasperated. “I’m too tired for your games, Moon,” she muttered, her voice lower now, softer, even though she still tried to hold onto that tough edge. But that was the problem—she couldn’t. Not when he was this close, not when his touch was that distracting.

Moon, sensing the change in her, didn’t back off, though he did slow his teasing, just a little. His fingers brushed against her jaw again, this time with more care, as if he were genuinely interested in seeing her let go.

“Maybe you need to stop being so stubborn for once,” he murmured, his voice rich with something that felt too serious, too intimate, to be casual.

Kalamela barely managed to keep her composure. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to ignore the rapid beat of her heart. “Maybe I do,” she muttered, barely audible, her voice more vulnerable than she’d like.

But before she could say anything else, Moon shifted again, this time sliding one hand to her back, holding her there against him as he looked up at her. His voice dropped lower than before. “Well, I’ll make sure you don’t get too cranky tonight. I’ve got plenty of time to show you how I can be... charming.”

And as much as she tried to push against him, Moon’s teasing, relentless as always, was starting to break down every single wall she’d put up.

And that? That was more irritating than anything else.

Moon, clearly satisfied with the way things were going, gave her a smug grin, but it was quickly replaced by something more tired as he relaxed into her. His weight shifted, and before she could even process what was happening, he simply collapsed onto her, rolling her back onto the couch with a lazy, almost lethargic grunt.

“Moon!” Kalamela yelped, completely caught off guard by how quickly he pinned her. She barely had time to adjust before she realized he wasn’t going anywhere. Not this time. He just... flopped on top of her like he owned the place.

“Mm,” Moon hummed lazily, his head burrowing into the crook of her neck as he wrapped his arms around her, completely trapping her underneath him. “Too tired to move,” he mumbled, his voice muffled against her skin. “Feels good here, K. You’re comfy.”

Kalamela froze for a moment, then huffed in annoyance. She could feel his warmth seeping into her, his weight pressing down just enough to keep her from squirming away. But that was the thing about Moon—he didn’t care if she was irritated. If anything, it just made him more persistent.

“Moon, get off,” she grumbled, squirming slightly under him. She tried to push at his chest, but it was like trying to move a brick wall. He didn’t budge, just relaxed even more as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

“Nope,” he mumbled, clearly too tired to do anything more than lounge. “You’re comfy. Besides, you can’t get away anyway. You’re stuck with me now.”

“I swear,” Kalamela muttered, rolling her eyes, though there was a hint of a laugh in her voice despite herself. She was still pissed—her headache was pounding, and she wanted to just collapse into the couch and forget the world for a bit—but Moon had a way of making everything feel... just a little more bearable. Even if he was infuriating.

"Look, I'm not in the mood for this," she snapped, her voice sharp, though she could feel herself losing the edge. “Seriously, Moon. You’re... heavy.”

He just shrugged, his face still buried in her neck, breathing deeply like he didn’t have a care in the world. “What can I say? I’m a big guy. You’ll survive.”

Kalamela huffed again, though she was starting to realize he was right—she wasn’t going anywhere. Not with him sprawled across her like a human blanket. The weight of him wasn’t even uncomfortable, and the fact that he was just so nonchalant about it was grating.

“I’m gonna get a cramp, you know,” she said, half-exasperated, half-amused. She wasn’t sure which one of those emotions was winning right now.

Moon shifted slightly, adjusting to find a more comfortable position, but still not moving off her. His arms tightened around her waist, keeping her anchored to the couch. “You’ll be fine,” he muttered. “I’m tired. No energy for your angry little rants right now.”

“Oh, so now I’m just a ‘rant’ to you?” she quipped, raising an eyebrow, her annoyance still strong, but there was a slight playful tone slipping in. “I’m not just some angry little nuisance, you know.”

“Eh,” Moon mumbled lazily, as if the whole thing was a side note. “Rants, nuisances, whatever. You’re still stuck with me.”

He adjusted his weight again, and just when Kalamela thought he might actually move, he settled into her a little more, like he was making himself comfortable for a nap. She could feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest against hers as his breathing deepened.

“You’re... really heavy,” she muttered again, her voice quieter this time, the edge of annoyance slipping away as she began to realize how tired she was, too.

Moon responded with nothing more than a small grunt, as if that was all the acknowledgment she needed. His body felt warm against hers, his relaxed weight making it harder and harder to stay irritated. Despite the situation, despite her best efforts to stay annoyed, she could feel the tension in her chest slowly unraveling.

Kalamela sighed, letting her body sink into the couch beneath her. She couldn't even fight it anymore. "You're lucky I'm too tired to deal with you right now," she muttered, her words losing their sharpness as the exhaustion settled in.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Moon replied lazily, his voice almost a purr now. He was clearly on the edge of sleep, the weight of his tiredness suddenly becoming even more noticeable. “Next time, you’ll thank me for it.”

She gave a soft snort at that, though it was drowned out by the quiet calm that had descended over the room. He wasn’t moving. And frankly? Neither was she.

“Whatever,” she muttered again, now barely able to keep her eyes open. With Moon settled on top of her, the world outside seemed to fade away, the only sound the soft rhythm of his breathing. He wasn’t too bad to have around, even if he was stubborn, irritating, and overly touchy. In this moment, it was just... comfortable.

"Don't get used to it," she mumbled sleepily, though even she knew it was a half-hearted threat at best.

But Moon? He didn’t respond—he didn’t need to. He was already out, his breathing steady and calm against her, leaving her to do the same.

And so, with the weight of Moon’s relaxed body on hers, Kalamela couldn’t help but let herself fall into that rare moment of quiet peace. A little annoyed, still a little tired, but... alive in that strange, intimate way that only Moon seemed to manage.

And for the first time in hours, she actually didn’t mind being trapped. Not by him, at least.

The minutes ticked by in a quiet, almost peaceful way, save for the soft sound of Moon’s deep breathing. He was practically sprawled on top of her, his weight a steady pressure, but Kalamela was starting to get used to it. Maybe too used to it, actually, and she could feel herself drifting into that cozy, sleepy haze.

Then, just as her mind was about to completely shut down for the night, the sound of a door creaking open shattered the moment.

“Hey, you guys still awake?” Sun’s voice rang out from the kitchen, a little too chipper for someone who wasn’t currently being used as a human pillow.

Kalamela’s eyes snapped open, her body tensing instantly. She had just about forgotten how locked she was under Moon’s weight. With Moon’s arm lazily draped over her waist and his face still buried in her neck, it was as if she was part of the furniture at this point.

“Of course we’re awake,” she muttered under her breath, clearly not impressed with her current position.

“Hey, Moonie!” Sun called again, now heading for the kitchen. “I brought back some of that take-out we—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Kalamela gave an exasperated sigh, then, with a grunt, shoved Moon’s chest with as much force as she could muster.

“Moon,” she grumbled, “get the hell off me.”

Moon didn’t even stir at first, his arms slack and his body a dead weight on hers. But Kalamela wasn’t giving up—she planted her hands firmly on his shoulders and pushed, this time harder, gritting her teeth with effort.

Moon groaned dramatically, his eyes fluttering open for just a second, but he didn’t move. He let out a lazy sigh, completely unbothered by her attempts.

“Nope,” he muttered, voice thick with sleep. “Too comfy here, K. You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

Kalamela, thoroughly done with this nonsense, narrowed her eyes at the ceiling and, with one final effort, shoved him hard—right off the couch.

“Moon!” she snarled, practically launching him to the side with one last shove of frustration. He landed with a soft thud on the floor, looking completely unphased. He didn’t even flinch as he rolled over and stretched lazily, his arms flung wide.

“Eh,” Moon muttered from the floor, not even bothering to pick himself up right away. “Was getting too warm anyway.”

Sun, who had come in just in time to witness the entire spectacle, stood in the doorway of the kitchen with a grin plastered across his face. He leaned casually against the frame, holding a take-out container in one hand. “Well, that was... dramatic,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Kalamela shot him a glare, brushing herself off as she sat up on the couch. Her arms crossed over her chest in a huff, clearly not impressed by either of them.

“I’m done with both of you,” she muttered, shooting Moon a glare. “I’m just trying to relax for five minutes, and then this happens. You’re impossible.”

Moon simply chuckled from the floor, still lounging comfortably as though he had all the time in the world. “Yeah, yeah. You love it.”

Kalamela groaned, feeling the remnants of her annoyance start to dissipate in the wake of the two of them. She had spent all day dealing with cranky customers and her own headaches, and now it felt like the universe was conspiring to wear her down even more. But despite the frustration, there was something almost endearing about the way Sun and Moon were always there to be exactly that: Sun and Moon.

“Anyway,” Sun chimed in, finally moving toward the fridge to grab some leftovers, “I don’t know about you two, but I’m starving. Leftovers are looking pretty good right now.”

He pulled out a container of Chinese food, unceremoniously popping it open. “Who wants some?” he asked, looking over his shoulder with a grin.

“I’ll pass,” Kalamela sighed, rolling her eyes as she stood up from the couch and stretched. “I’m too tired to even think about food right now.”

Sun, unaffected by her disinterest, waved the container in her direction anyway. “More for me then!” he said cheerfully.

Moon, still sprawled on the floor, raised an eyebrow. “I’ll pass, too. But I wouldn’t mind a drink.”

Kalamela turned toward the kitchen, shooting them both a last annoyed glance before heading toward the fridge. She grabbed a bottle of water and twisted the cap open with a sigh. “You’re both exhausting,” she muttered, though there was an undeniable softness in her voice as she began to unwind.

Sun was already halfway through his leftover take-out, humming happily as he stuffed his face. “You know, I’m just happy we’re all back home. It’s been one hell of a day, huh?”

“Tell me about it,” Kalamela said with a faint smile, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I’m ready to just crash for the night.”

Moon finally got up from the floor, brushing off his hoodie and standing with a mock stretch. “Same. But... I gotta say, Star, it’s not every day I get to use you as a personal pillow. So, you’re welcome, by the way.”

Kalamela rolled her eyes again, but there was a flicker of a smile on her face despite the frustration. “Yeah, I’ll definitely thank you for that... next year.”

With that, she grabbed her water and made her way back to the living room. She was exhausted, but at least the chaos had subsided—for now.

Kalamela stayed quiet for a moment longer, her fingers tapping absently on the water bottle as she glanced over at Sun. His back was turned as he casually started picking at his leftover take-out, humming to himself. She cleared her throat with a soft cough, just enough to get his attention.

“Sun,” she said, voice more serious than playful. There was no teasing in it, just pure fatigue creeping into her tone.

Sun turned around, instantly noticing the change in her energy. "Yeah?" His expression softened slightly, the playful grin fading as he saw the exhaustion that still clung to her.

Kalamela didn’t waste time. “I need a hug. Now.”

There was no joking around with this request, no hint of sarcasm. She didn’t wait for his response before she took a step toward him, crossing the space between them with purposeful strides.

Sun’s eyes widened a little, his lips parting as if he was about to make some smart comment, but then he just sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Alright, alright, come here,” he muttered. He opened his arms, his usual cheerful self coming back in full force, though a quiet concern flickered across his features.

Kalamela didn’t hesitate. She walked right into his arms, pressing her face into his chest without saying a word. She felt his arms wrap around her, and for a moment, she just stayed there—her face buried against his shirt as her fingers clenched into the fabric. The warmth of his embrace was oddly comforting, but her mind stayed sharp, focused on the exhaustion in her bones, not on the way his presence felt a little too good.

Sun pulled her in a little tighter, but she didn’t lean into it, not really. She wasn’t looking for comfort in a hug, or at least, not in the way people usually did. She needed it to end sooner than later.

She sighed, the tension in her body telling him all he needed to know about her mood. “Better?”

“Not really,” she muttered into his chest. “But it’ll do.”

There was a moment where Sun just held her, like he wasn’t sure what else to do, but he was too kind to let her go. He gently pulled back after a moment, still holding onto her as he looked down at her face. “I’m gonna take a guess—headache?”

Kalamela nodded stiffly. “You could say that,” she said flatly, trying to hide how much the pressure in her skull was making it hard to even focus. “I’ll be fine.”

Sun hesitated, clearly not convinced, but after a beat, he sighed. “Alright. I guess I’ll go back to my dinner, huh?”

“Yeah. You can do that.” She gave him a small, stiff smile before looking up at him, her hand slipping off his back. “Thanks,” she muttered, not needing to say much more. The gratitude was there, but she didn’t have the energy to express it properly.

She was just about to turn away when she caught herself for a brief second. She wasn’t sure if it was her exhaustion or just the way Sun’s presence made her feel a little bit more... grounded, but her eyes flicked over him in that quick, instinctive way that she wasn’t always aware of. She didn’t linger too long, but she noticed how his shirt fit, the way his arms were slightly flexed from carrying her into the hug.

Her eyes narrowed, but before Sun could notice, she quickly cleared her throat and walked toward the couch, keeping her posture straight. “I’ll be over here,” she said, the words blunt as she plopped down onto the couch.

There was a soft chuckle from the kitchen, and Sun called over, “You sure you’re okay? I’m not gonna carry you to bed or anything.”

“Don’t even think about it,” she snapped back immediately, her tone sharp.

Moon’s voice piped up from the other room. “Oh, don’t worry. We wouldn’t want to spoil your cranky mood with any kindness. She’s perfectly fine, right?” he said, voice dripping with mockery.

Kalamela’s head snapped in his direction, eyes narrowing with annoyance, but she didn’t feel like dealing with him. Not now. She just leaned back into the couch with a heavy sigh, rubbing her temples as she shut her eyes. “Don’t start, Moon. Please.”

A silence filled the room, broken only by the sounds of Sun continuing to chew through his food and Moon’s lazy grumbles in the background. It was enough to let her relax, just a little—at least in the sense that she didn’t have to talk.

She didn’t have to entertain anyone. She just needed a break. A moment to exist without constantly having to interact, to feel.

Finally, after what felt like a full minute of sitting in stillness, she rolled her neck to the side, a low grunt escaping her. She exhaled sharply through her nose.

"Alright, I'm done being moody. For now," she muttered under her breath.

But Sun, of course, was already heading back to his food. There was no sympathy in his expression, just his usual smile that always managed to make her feel more like a pet than a person.

The quiet in the room stretched on a little longer, but it was exactly what she needed. Just for a little while longer, she could let the rest of the world stay in its chaos, and she would just... be.

[rcvcgers]

Rotten Apples ❦.ׂ

chapter ten: fallout

masterlist , series masterlist , ao3 link

previous part | next part

oh yeah, i made a spotify playlist for this <3

18+ MINORS DNI

pairing: caleb x non!mc reader

synopsis: your relationship with caleb is on the rocks. he talks you out of accepting a job. something bad happens.

word count: 10.5k words

warnings: slightly proofread! i wrote this in one sitting ... don't judge too hard

author's note: hi! thank you so much for being patient with me! part 10 is a little ... yeah. i hope you enjoy it regardless !!

content warning: angst, mentions of death, self blaming, loathing, syringe/drugging

my rotten apples <3 : @militaryapple , @kebarney , @pinkismyfavcolor , @romils , @erisnxxi , @rik0shii , @reni502 , @spacehopper27 , @llamabois , @likesvader , @pandoras-rabbit , @princessfruit , @lukassafespace , @jexireads , @etsuniiru , @tinnyrabbit , @orianakira , @xiaorixx , @beomluvrr , @sanzy4 , @vickykazuya , @blcknebula , @sleepydang , @flamedancer13 , @gojosbedwarmer , @silmeria-lafleur , @ikiru-wa , @animecrazy76 , @fealy , @i-messed-up-big-time , @motheraiya55 , @vvonunie , @1uv4jiya , @yuuuumii , @okumurarinsbabe , @mcdepressed290 , @luleck , @sanzy4 , @lucifers-silhouette , @crazygirl3001 , @april-likes-smut , @kazbrkker , @l1ttlebabyapple , @writersandroses , @kookie-my-little-sunshine , @curryexpress , @earthykitsunesrain , @raining4food , @chaoticbardlady99 , @young-adult-summer

want to be added to the taglist? click here!

Things weren’t the same after the wedding.

The next morning, the two of you acted as if nothing had happened when your parents came back from their getaway. Their cheery smiles were met by shiny yet fake grins, you and Caleb being affectionate and in love. They made endless comments about how the two of you looked so good together, that your mother was always rooting for you and Caleb to get together as teens and cried about it when he died (he explained that his death was fake for DAA reasons, your parents didn’t press further into the matter).

They offered for the two of you to stay another night, to spend some time in Linkon together and visit the places you loved as a kid. Caleb knew you hated the idea by the way your voice went up an octave. He effortlessly made an excuse that you agreed to come with him to a Farspace Event, that it was unavoidable as a Colonel and his trusty translator.

So, they waved you away and the two of you kept up the facade that you are a couple in love, who cannot keep their hands off of each other, and watched as the image of your parents disappeared from the train’s window.

As soon as they were gone, you dropped the facade and put your headphones on, drowning out the outside world while you nursed a headache from the emotional stress. Caleb kept your hand in his, though, and watched as your face showed cracks for the first time that day.

It wouldn’t be the only time it happened.

To you, life had lost all of its color. Sure, you loved Caleb and wanted to continue your relationship with him. He has proven to you that he will choose you, make the time and effort to pursue you despite the people in your lives trying so hard to keep you apart.

There is still one raincloud that hangs over your head, though. It’s big and is a deep gray color, holding in all of the unanswered questions, anger, and sadness that has rooted itself inside of you. It hovers over the blooming apple tree in your heart. No fruit has come from the tree yet, its life still too young to support anymore weight than it can. 

The cloud taunts the tree. It absorbs all of the sunlight that it tries to get, forever rejected the nourishment the tree needs to thrive. It also baits the tree into thinking that it will receive water, a necessity for it to survive. It holds all of the water inside itself, refusing to let go.

The tree begins to wither. It’s once healthy branches begin to turn dry, ready to snap under the pressure or from a forceful gust of wind.

Life at home was fine. You and Caleb remained together, usually opting to spend the night in his apartment instead of yours. You went about your day as usual, translating important documents and even occasionally being called upon to translate live for a high ranking official’s mission. The routine became monotonous, though.

You wake up beside Caleb and share a peck on the lips before getting ready for the day. He made breakfast while you made the bed and cleaned up any messes either of you made the previous night. You stood next to each other while you brushed your teeth. Caleb changed into his Colonel’s uniform while you slipped on one of your office outfits, your own uniform as Caleb likes to call it. You help him with his tie while he pushes your hair out of your face and flattens out the wrinkles of your shirt.

It’d be quiet while the two of you got ready. Usually, you’d be asking Caleb about his plans for the day and you’d share yours. The two of you would share hundreds of happy kisses and pecks on the cheek, always trying to sneak another one in before you have to leave. Now, though, the rooms are filled with a deafening silence, the echoes of your last giggles and shared whispers vanishing from existence.

Once at work, you’d part ways with a small wave, going through the front doors while he parked the car and went through his own entrance. When the two of you left for the day, he would pick you up right outside the building’s doors and drove to whoever’s apartment was called upon that day.

On the weekends, days that you had off, you would run out for groceries while he handed any Colonel business that needed his attention. Your phone dinged throughout the day, texts from Caleb asking you where you are and what you’re doing littering your phone screen. You always answered truthfully but your messages were dry, lacking any excited exclamation marks or funny emojis that would make the two of you giggle later that night.

While you folded laundry, your mind would drift out into space, the insecure thoughts from before floating into your consciousness, your fingers tightly gripping Caleb’s weathered DAA shirt.

The cloud that hangs above your head grows.

Some days, Caleb would stop by the translators sector just to see the smile on your face, but it was nowhere to be seen, your face stoic while you typed away on your computer. When your gazes met, your smile only lasted for a couple of seconds before it vanished, your boss stacking a tall pile of papers onto your desk.

You began to bring work home. Once your boss caught wind of your relationship with Caleb, they thought it would be poetic justice (or just plain bullying) to give you some more work for dating far above your rank and importance. Funnily enough, you began to miss Darryl and the shit he used to give you about being late. Caleb’s face always fell when you got into his car. His eyes would immediately latch onto the papers in your hands, watching as you struggled to piece together the dialect of a language you aren’t used to.

Caleb knew that those nights would end with you working until the moon is about to leave the night sky. He stayed up with you, though, and fell asleep with his chin on your shoulder while you sat on his lap. The low light of the lamp was enough to illuminate the page. You scribbled the deciphered language onto a blank page and yawned throughout the night, mentally exhausted beyond belief.

You weren’t too mad about the workload. It helped you avoid having tough conversations with Caleb. Instead, you helped him learn new words in languages he can barely understand, speaking to him in full sentences while he tried his best to ask you where the library is. It kept things lighthearted despite the two of you knowing that the current solution is a bandaid over a bullet hole.

“Do you want me to take the leftovers?” Your co-worker, Alivia, asks one day.

You stare at the box in front of you. Inside sits countless of papers and documents that are blacked out with only a few words here and there to decipher. A task like this would take you a week to complete and that’s is you pulled all nighters and lost a few hours of sleep.

A break, though? It sounds nice.

“That would be amazing, actually,” you breathe out, already feeling the weight and stress from Oliver’s last minute assignment slip off of your shoulders.

“Of course! You deserve a break too. It’s unfair how you always get the short end of the stick,” Alivia swipes the box off of your desk, placing it on her own. She glances at the clock on her desk and looks back to you. “Go home. I’ll cover you if he says anything. Just go and get some rest this weekend, okay?”

You nod, a genuine smile spreading across your face, and gather your belongings. There’s only a few more hours left of the work day but a break would be everything and more. Without looking back, you rush out of the doors and into the cool air.

The sky is dark, a rainstorm slowly coming in. The weather has been so unpredictable lately. Some days it is bright and sunny with high temperatures and the next it is thundering and raining, threatening to down the floating city. The wind chills your skin. You hug your jacket closer to your body, ready to find a taxi when your phone rings. You don’t even need to look at the caller I.D. to know who it is.

“Caleb,” you answer, teeth clattering from the cold wind, “what’s up?”

“Where are you going?” his voice is filled with concern with a hint of possessiveness. It make you shiver from just how quick he learns about your work life.

“Alivia told me to go home. I thought I’d go to your place and take a nap there. Your bed is better after all,” you add a chuckle to the end of your sentence. You know that it’ll disarm Caleb’s sudden protectiveness. You know him just as well as he knows you. “I can always go to my—”

“No! It’s okay. I could use a nap too,” Caleb chuckles over the phone but his laugh immediately dies when the door to his office opens. “What is it?” his voice is now muffled and you can hear him place the phone against the desk.

You sigh and walk away from the doors and towards the street. The phone is trapped between your ear and shoulder while you attempt to hail a taxi. Caleb’s Colonel voice comes out and you suddenly miss his happy tone. A gust of wind brushes past you, chilling you even more. Maybe this is Mother Nature’s way of telling you that you’re an ice cold bitch.

“I’ll have to see you later. I’m sorry, pretty bird,” Caleb sighs into the phone.

“That’s okay. Why don’t you bring home dinner? Let’s have a night in where we don’t do anything,” you calmly suggest, finally getting a taxi’s attention. The white car pulls up to the curb and you get inside, smiling at the driver, telling him the address.

“Are you sure? I can always cook something. Your favorite!” you hear him move things around on his desk.

“It’s okay. I’m craving that place you showed me anyways,” you shrug.

The world begins to move around you. The taxi slowly moves with traffic but you don’t care. You just need some time for yourself, to be alone and reset your body so you can get out of this funk and move on from the night of your friend’s wedding. It isn’t fair to you or Caleb to have something as silly as miscommunication hold you back from being happy together.

Well, you certainly thought it to be something you could easily get over. You never have been the best at guessing things like this.

When you enter Caleb’s apartment, your phone has been blown up with Caleb checking in on you, seeing if there was anything he can do to help you feel better or if he needed to leave work early. You texted back reassurances, the guilt of your resentment towards her and his relationship eating away at your conscience.

You laid in his bed, wearing one of his many oversized and comfortable shirts, and scrolled through your phone throughout the hours. It felt good to mindlessly scroll through stupid videos and read through peoples arguments over the stupidest things. Your mind was distracted and you didn’t think about the things that have been weighing you down.

You laugh at a video of penguins falling over. You cried at the video of a dog sitting at its owner’s grave. You save a recipe that you think Caleb would be great at making. You roll your eyes at some dude bro who thinks that a woman’s reproductive system looks like a satanic goat.

Hours pass you by and the sun sets in the distance, leaving the room in complete darkness except for the lamp that you turned on not too long ago. Its light is warm, very orange. It carries across the room, the blue light from your phone cutting through the orange with ease, the two colors splitting your face evenly. You roll to your other side in bed, plugging your phone in before it can die.

Engrossed in your own world, you don’t even notice Caleb walking inside the bedroom, already shrugging off his jacket, hanging it in the closet. He smiles at you. The sound of your quiet laughs and giggles make his heart feel full again. It brings a warmth to his chest, one he hasn’t felt in awhile, and begins to shed the skin of his Colonel persona.

“Whatcha laughin’ at, pretty bird?” Caleb asks, a smile on his face.

You gasp and sit up in bed, covering yourself with the dark gray and blue sheets of his bed. Once your eyes land on him, you relax and let out the tension that filled your lungs. Caleb laughs and slips on comfortable clothes, crossing the room and slipping underneath the covers beside you. In one fluid motion, Caleb scoops you up and onto his lap, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Ohhh, I see. You’re laughing at videos of baby animals. Very cute, very cute,” Caleb muses with a smile, nuzzling his face into the side of your neck. He gently presses kisses to your neck and you let out a quiet sigh, closing your eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

“I couldn’t,” you admit. You place your hands on top of Caleb’s, feeling all of your worries begin to slip away and out of your mind. “I think I need my boyfriend to help me.”

“Do you?” his tone is teasing yet is so smug at the same time. “Well, I’m here now aaaand I brought dinner.”

“Did you?” you ask with a smile. Caleb nods. You push him away from you and slip out of bed, the covers hindering your movement. Caleb laughs and watches as you scramble outside of the room and towards the kitchen where two white bags sit.

You open them up to reveal an immaculate sight: two big bowls of ramen accompanied by all of the side dishes imaginable. Caleb walks from behind and reattaches himself to your body. He leans into you, catching a glimpse of your smile.

For once, it’s genuine. It is the first smile, one that is real, that he has seen from you never since the wedding. A piece of him aches. He knows that you’ve been stuck on that day, that you haven’t been able to fully process or say what it is that you need and want to say. He’ll be there when you’re ready, though. He will never leave you to go through that alone, especially because some of your hidden anger is directed at him. Rightfully so, of course.

Neither of you bring it up. You eat dinner together and talk about Caleb’s day, even going as far as to see if you could translate a few documents for him one of these days.

It felt…nice. The temporarily relief from avoiding the elephant in the room. The two of you pretend it isn’t there, basking in the awkwardness of uncertainty and things left unsaid. Caleb smiles at you, you smile at him, and the two of you ignore the heavy raincloud that floats over your head. The counter you sit at looks more and more like an executioners block with the cloud ready to chop your heads off.

You watch as Caleb cleans up the dinner mess. He brushes all of the crumbs off of the counter and into the trash can, casually throwing away the plastic bags and bowls that came with the meal. You sit at the counter and watch, chin propped up on your hand as he moves around the kitchen with a relaxed grin on his face.

Guilt washes over you. His smile is so genuine, so pure and good. He’s smiling because of you and you’re sitting here pretending like you don’t want to yell and scream at him for not telling you anything. You want to grab his head and scream at him for making you feel so insignificant in the past and cry in his arms because there truly is no way for you to hate him.

All you see is man who is trying his best to play the game called life. Maybe you shouldn’t hold so much anger towards him and the people in your life. Maybe you should forgive but never forget.

“Why are you starin’ at me like that?” Caleb disappears from your vision.

You blink at nothing and feel his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you off of the stool and into his arms. You gasp and feel your legs dangle off of the ground, Caleb’s forearms wrapped around your stomach, holding you up. He leans backwards and pulls you back with him. He walks around, chuckling to himself, as you hang there, unable to do a damn thing to stop him. You cross your arms over your chest, already having accepted your fate, and watch as he carries you back to his bedroom.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Caleb kisses the back of your neck. He doesn’t give you time to answer, either, before jumping onto the bed, smushing you beneath him.

With a face full of mattress and Caleb’s full body weight keeping you trapped below him, you accept the bittersweet taste of your death: suffocation by smothering. You had a good run! You did a lot of things, which was fun, even got to date the man of your dreams for a bit there even though it has been angsty as hell so far. You wouldn’t change a thing about it!

Okay, maybe you would change a few things, but who’s really counting, anyways?

Caleb rolls onto his back, bringing you around with him. You dramatically gasp for air, body moving up down down as Caleb laughs. You place your hands on top of his and stare at the ceiling, not making an effort to move your hair out of his face.

“I’m tired,” you say. Caleb nods in agreement. “I think I’m going to sleep right here…”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. The mattress I’m on may be a bit lumpy—”

“Lumpy?!”

“—and it may smell like sweat and jet fuel—”

“Is this pick on Caleb day?”

“—but it’s comfortable enough for the night.”

“Oh, well, that’s good then,” Caleb squeezes his arms around you, literally taking the breath out of you, “because I just love it when I have my girlfriend’s hair in my face throughout the night. Truly splendid!”

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh, sucking in a deep breath when he releases you. You slip off of him and take your usual side in the bed, looking out the floor to ceiling windows. A small yawn leaves your mouth. Caleb adjusts himself behind you and pulls you close to him.

A silence finally falls between the two of you. Is it time? Are you ready to confront him? To ask him all of the questions that have died on your tongue before you got the chance to say them?

The dark rainclouds pass the windows, Caleb’s apartment building splitting the forces of nature with ease. You fixate on a particularly dark spot. It slowly passes by, taking its time to look back at you. If you didn’t know any better you’d think that a bolt of lightning would be shot at you as a punishment for all of the animosity that clings to your heart.

Caleb’s hand is warm against your skin. It stays at your stomach, gently caressing your skin, before it moves up between your breasts. He flattens his palm against your chest. He feels each and every one of your heartbeats. He feels as it quickens from his touch, giving away any kind of nonchalance you wanted to wear. His forearm remains stuck between your breasts. If he were to move his hand further up, he could choke you with ease.

“The clouds look cool,” your attempt at starting a new conversation doesn’t go unnoticed. You swallow the lump that forms in your throat. Caleb nods. You can feel his purple eyes watch you instead of the clouds. “I think you’re the one looking at me now.”

“We haven’t had much time together lately,” Caleb is quick to respond, “we’re busy people.”

“Are we?” you whisper to yourself. Caleb heard it, though. There truly is nothing you can keep from him.

A long sigh leaves his lips. You feel his forehead press into the back of your neck, his breath against your back. You shudder and place your hand on top of his. The clouds outside grow darker. Your eyes gloss over, the urge to cry hitting you like a train. You remain still, though, forever silent in your moment of doubt.

“Can we…” Caleb’s voice cracks. Your heart aches. You close your eyes, holding back frustrated tears. “Let’s not, tonight, okay? We were having such a good time.”

“Agreed,” you breathe out.

“Great,” Caleb pulls you closer to him, draping the bed’s sheets over your connected bodies.

It had been the first good night in awhile. Why would you want to spoil such a blessing with your own stupid thoughts and destructive behavior?

“It’s late, babe, let’s sleep,” your words fill in the silence. Caleb nods, yawning right on cue.

You know sleep will come easy for him with you in his arms. You also know, though, that sleep will continually tease you throughout the night, never letting you fully grasp it.

Caleb always looks stressed when he sleeps. You always thought that sleep was the great reliever, a place where every person can find solace after a long day of stress. Unfortunately for Caleb, it seems like even in sleep he cannot find peace. You can’t help but feel bad for him. He already goes through so much as the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel and deals with the undiscovered parts of the Deepspace Tunnel. You just wish that one day he will be able to sleep peacefully.

Even in the darkness of his bedroom, safely secured in his muscular arms, you can’t help but feel like Caleb is holding something back from you. The lingering feeling beckons at you, drawing you in closer and closer with the possibilities that there is an invisible barrier separating the two of you. Staring at the underlying tension in his brow makes you question what is going on inside his mind.

If you could, you would break open his skull to get to where his thoughts are hidden. You would dig through the blood and rip apart his brain, finding the locked away thoughts and memories that have been left unsaid, finally solving the mystery that keeps you up at night. You’d take away all of the bad memories and leave only the good for him to relive.

Then again, erasing someone’s memories is a cruel thing to do.

You slowly sit up in bed, his dark gray sheets pooling at your hips. Caleb immediately stirs in his sleep, eyes flying open and fixating on you. The moonlight is gentle against your skin as you gaze outside the window, curtains drawn open since you wanted to watch the clouds pass you by before you slept. There is a slight patter against the window. Raindrops collide with the reinforced glass, its quiet lullaby suddenly making you feel like you’re trapped inside a cage.

“Are you okay?” Caleb’s voice captures your attention. He remains in bed, the tips of his fingers already moving against your skin in a soothing manner.

“Yeah,” you nod, forcing a small smile onto your face, “I just woke up. Need to stretch out my body.”

Under the veil of darkness, Caleb memorizes the way your face twitches, picking up on the way your eyes remain on him despite your attention being elsewhere. There’s something in your eyes, a question that has been smothered on your tongue, hidden behind your teeth, never to escape.

Does he want to know what you’re thinking? What it is you are questioning now?

“Do you want to go for a walk?” your question surprises him.

He tilts his head back. Caleb’s purple eyes burn into yours, leaving your question unanswered. Tension slowly seeps into the air. You peel your eyes away from his and swing your legs over the edge of the bed, pushing away and heading towards the bathroom. Thunder booms from outside the window. Caleb sighs and covers his face with his hands. A quiet groan leaves his lips as he forces himself out of bed.

Ever since the wedding, things have been weird between the two of you. You had begun to pull away from him and Caleb was losing his mind, unsure of what he needed to do or say to make things right. You told him that you were fine, that you held no ill will.

Uncertainty and his fear of the unknown burned the back of his brain and it made him careless in his missions to the Deepspace Tunnel. People were injured and lives were on the line, but his mind could only think of you and the sad look that overtook your face whenever he looked away.

It’s the same look you wear on your face now. The bathroom lights are low, just barely awake as you stare at yourself in the mirror. Movement from behind you catches your attention. You look at Caleb’s reflection, watching as he settles himself against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. You suck in a breath.

“It’s the middle of the night,” Caleb’s voice has lost its rasp and the tiredness that hangs in his voice, “why are you wanting to go for a walk?”

“Can’t sleep,” you shrug nonchalantly and turn back towards the mirror, pushing your hair behind your ears and out of your face.

“What about work?”

“It’s the weekend so I’m off,” you avoid his gaze in the mirror, trying to wake up your body so it can keep up with your mind.

Caleb falls silent again. All he can bring himself to do is watch as you untangle the knots in your hair before drawing it back into a low bun, nothing special. When you turn to leave the bathroom, you turn into Caleb’s bare chest. You look up at him, noticing the shadowed bags under his eyes. You reach up and cup his cheek, the man immediately leaning into your touch.

“You should stay back and sleep,” your words are quiet.

He shakes his head. He reaches up and wraps his fingers around your wrist, pulling his face away from your touch. His touch isn’t warm but cold, his metal fingers hidden beneath its disguise. He gently kisses the palm of your hand, a gentle sigh escaping his lips. Your cheeks heat up but you fight away the feeling, not wanting him to persuade you to go back to bed, to rot next to him while you watch the clouds pass the cage that keeps you inside.

“Let’s walk,” Caleb matches your volume, his purple eyes flickering to yours before he drops your hand, turning around to get changed. You follow him, quick on his tail, and glance outside.

The rain slowly begins to pick up outside. Thunder and lighting grows closer. You approach the window, placing your hand against the chilled glass. The world below is shielding by a cloud.

“Maybe we should stay inside,” you say, eyes focused on trying to see the ground. Caleb groans, frustrated. Your body tenses and your posture stiffens. “The weather picked up.”

“Pretty bird,” you turn around and see Caleb, already in sweats and a jacket, “you just said—”

“I know, I’m sorry—”

“So you don’t want want to go on a—”

“—no we can! It’s just that the weather—”

“So now you don’t want to?”

“No! Yes! Fuck, I don’t even know anymore! Let’s go for a walk,” you push past him and reach for one of your hoodies that sits in a bag you packed not too long ago. Caleb stops you, though, and instead hands you one of his hoodies with a long sleeve shirt. You turn around and watch as he helps slip your shirt over your head, replacing it with the tight long sleeve and hoodie. Once the hood is brought over your head, his purple eyes flicker to yours.

“It’s cold,” he sharply says. He takes your hand and guides you out of the bedroom, entering the dark living room and kitchen areas. You struggle to keep up with his long strides, feet fumbling over each other. Caleb grabs an umbrella that sits by the door and exits the apartment, pulling you with him.

The small journey to the outside world is awkward and tense. Caleb’s grip on your hand is tight, annoyance prominent inside the tension in his jaw, the way it’s clenched as he guides you through his apartment building. The yellow interior lights are easy on your eyes and are dim enough to keep the outside world dark, avoiding any kind of light pollution it may have. A single person works in the lobby, sitting at the desk while you and Caleb pass to leave.

“Hey!” they call out, “The weather is pretty rough—!”

“We know!” Caleb and you bark at the person in sync.

Caleb presses the button next to the lobby door and it slides open, a gust of wind hitting the two of you just as you exit. You slip the umbrella from his hand and open it, holding it out for him. He watches you with a close eye, the wind pushing around your hair, the tip of your nose already cold. He takes the umbrella and laces your fingers with his, weathering the storm together as you male your way to a dimly lit path nearby.

You wrap an arm around Caleb’s torso and stay close to him, face smushed into his chest. Raindrops fly with the wind, smacking against the material of the umbrella. It shields the two of you the best it can. Caleb picks up his pace and you’re practically jogging at his side.

“Caleb!” you shout over the sound of rain and wind. He doesn’t look down, simply walking through the rough weather as if it’s nothing.

Just a couple meters away sits a lit gazebo that sits in the middle of courtyard that’s right beside Caleb’s building. The rows of flowers try to fight against the wind, hanging on by the strength of the plant’s stem, a few petals flying away. Once you reach the gazebo, you push away from Caleb, turning your back to him. He drops the umbrella and it slides across the floor to where your feet are.

“Tell me,” Caleb begins, his voice raised to be over the howling wind, “what did I do wrong?”

“You didn’t do anything,” you counter. The flower bushes that surround the gazebo hit and scrape against the wood. The petals threaten to fly off of the stems, getting lost in the wind. The dark rainclouds descend towards the ground, placing you and Caleb in the middle of its destructive force.

“Bullshit. There’s something going on inside that head of yours. You barely smile anymore and you always bring work home! There’s no time for us anymore!” Caleb walks closer to you. He looks at the back of your head, your hair dry and his hood damp. You don’t even turn to face him, which only annoys him some more. “We haven’t had sex—”

“So this is about sex!?” you snap, finally turning around to look at him. The wind screams from around you. “You’re worried about getting your dick wet again, right? Want me to get down on my knees and suck your dick? Will that make you feel better?!”

“No! Dammit! That’s not—” Caleb groans and pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, “that’s not what I meant and you know it!”

“Then what is it, Caleb? Hm? Are you actually worried about me,” you poke his chest, knowingly poking the bear, “or are you just trying to cover your back so this doesn’t blow up on you at the end of the day?”

“What are you talking about?!” Caleb raises his voice to combat the thunder that sounds from around the gazebo. You roll your eyes and turn your attention to the world over his shoulder, looking at the environment get beaten up by the storm.

The dark raincloud that once hung above your head has touched land. It has finally decided that the apple tree, something that managed to grow in the rough terrain of your heart, deserves water. It deserves to have its thirst quenched, to let the cold water touch the dry, green leaves, to moisten the ground that surrounds it.

Truth and honesty are ideals that every relationship should have. It is the fertilizer within the soil that many apple trees like your own are buried in. You forgot that step, didn’t you?

“What did I do? Did Zayne say something to you at the wedding?” Caleb steps towards you but you take a step backwards, your ankle meeting the wood of the gazebo’s railing.

You scoff and look away, crossing your arms over your chest. Even the thought of looking into his eyes makes you feel nothing but dread and utter devastation. Caleb’s back stiffens. His purple eyes run up and down your body; you give him all of the telltale signs that he’s right and that you’re hiding something from him.

Caleb steps forward, trapping you. You look up at him with big and wide eyes. He’s the predator that’s just caught his prey, your pretty little face begging for mercy. He can go easy on you, sure, let you slip out of the net he’s caught you in. You can recover from your mistake by peppering kisses all over his face. He’ll forget all of the misgivings that have been through his way, he can forgive the fact that you believed something that Zayne said instead of asking him directly about it.

“What did he say?” Caleb’s voice teeters between desperation and being demanding. He lowers his head, his purple eyes training on yours with a darkness you haven’t seen before. Your body goes cold. Goosebumps scatter across your skin. “Tell me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you breathe out, your breath coming out in the form of a plume. “What Zayne said doesn’t matter.”

“Clearly, it does,” Caleb places his hands on the wooden railing behind you. His nose grazes against yours. Your breaths mix into one. You close your eyes, unable to look at him. He presses in further, his body against yours, demanding and present. “Tell me.”

“He said that you’ve been texting her the whole time,” Caleb’s body tenses against yours while you speak, “he said that I will forever be second place in your heart. That you’ll always go to her her first rather than find me. That I don’t deserve you.”

Caleb slowly draws himself away from you. His eyes go dark, cold. The space between you feels like no man’s land, a place where neither of you want to meet in the middle. His tall frame dominates yours, towering over you with ease and with an unspoken authority over you. You are at his mercy.

“Go on,” he says in a low tone.

“Zayne said he loves me. He always has. That I haven’t been able to see it because I’ve been so preoccupied with you,” you continue.

Hurt flashes across his face when you say the word love, a word that he thought he had full control over when it comes to you. Jealousy spreads across his chest. You fall silent. Thunder booms from behind you. Neither of you react. 

“What did you say back to him?” Caleb narrows his eyes at you.

“I said that him and I are alike,” you force the words to fall out of your mouth. Caleb’s eyebrow perks up. “We both love someone who will never be able to fully love us back.”

A bitter taste spreads across Caleb’s tongue. Looking down at you, he can see the defiance and hurt in your eyes. You are trying so hard to hold it together, to not cry and break from underneath the pressure. Your walls slowly reinforce themselves, the workers inside your mind resuming construction as you build them taller than you have before. They are now covered with a fresh layer of ice, closing out any warmth that you were once able to find within Caleb’s embrace.

“How about you, Caleb?” your voice is strong against the howls and cries of the wind. The screams from gusts of air don’t dissuade you. You remain strong in your path, knowing that at the end, only destruction will be left. “Is there anything that you wish to tell me?”

Caleb tears his gaze away from yours. The dark gray clouds cover the moon, taking up the entire night sky. The umbrella he brought out hits the wooden perimeter, clicking every couple of seconds, ticking away the time. He moves to the gazebo’s entrance, wanting to walk down the few steps and escape into the night, to get away from the conversation that slowly chips away at your relationship and individual sanities.

“What are you hiding from me?” you ask from behind. His broad shoulders stare at you, his back mocking. You can’t help but feel like you’re being laughed at, being teased for the way you feel. You tried to look past the revelation that Zayne gifted to you, brushing it off as nothing but a simple misdirection to throw you off your rhythm but now, standing here and watching Caleb begin to pull away from you, it feels like Zayne had been right the whole time.

You’re even second place when it comes to figuring out the truth, a third and unwanted person in a relationship that doesn’t even involve you.

“Talk to me, Caleb!” your voice is drowned out by thunder. Caleb turns around and his purple eyes immediately go to your fists that are balled at your sides. Your nails bury themselves into the palms of your hands. The pain is a nice distraction from the confusion in your mind. The thunder sounds like bombs are being dropped. “I told you the truth, why can’t you do the same?!”

“That’s not fair,” Caleb shakes his head, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“Isn’t it?” you huff out a breath of air, crossing the distance to stand in front of him. “Do you know what it is like to sleep at your side, Caleb?” your voice cracks, “Do you know what it is like to have to hold you at night when you have another nightmare?”

“Pretty bird,” Caleb breathes your name out like it is a prayer.

“You cry in your sleep, Caleb. You cry and you hold onto me as if someone is going to take me away from you! You always avoid answering me question when I ask you what’s wrong and you never take me up on your offer to talk about it!” Tears begin to flow down your cheeks, bottom lip trembling. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head! I don’t know how I can help you or what I need to do to stop the nightmares! I hate seeing you in pain! I hate hearing you cry as soon as I leave the bed!”

Your hands fly to your face and your fingers begin to furiously wipe your tears away. Caleb reaches out to console you but you smack his hands away, placing a good amount of distance between the two of you.

“You cry out her name, Caleb!” you scream the words over the wind and thunder. Lightning flashes across the night sky, thunder immediately cracking after. The loud boom makes your ears ring. “You cry out her name when I’m right next to you! That’s how I know I’m second place! That’s how I know you are hiding something from me! And it fucking hurts to know that I will never be able to see that side of you. I feel so helpless when it comes to you, Caleb! You have all of the answers when it comes other than me and yet I barely know a thing about what happened!”

“I…” Caleb stammers, his voice falling silent. “I can—”

“Explain?” you cut him off. He blinks at you, his eyes now glossy. “Go ahead, Caleb. Explain. I’ll wait.”

“You know I can’t,” Caleb’s voice is low and is filled with such shame that it makes you want to scream and cry.

The raincloud has drowned the tree. Its soil, which was once too dry, is now diluted from the weight of history and purposefully hidden memories. The water level rises above the ground. The tree is now submerged beneath the water, unable to catch a break in the unpredictable weather cycle.

You suck in a breath, the back of your hand flying to your mouth, covering it. Hidden secrets and questions are now out in the open. They taunt Caleb, snickering at the pain that flashes across his chest. He stares at the back of your head, watching as your shoulders slump over, your body succumbing to the sadness that weighs you down.

“Maybe we…”you breathe out. Caleb’s eyes fill with tears. He clears the distance between you and takes your hands in his, shaking his head.

“Don’t…don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Caleb silences you. the man reaches up and wipes away the tears that fall from your eyes. He shakes his head but you nod, looking into his irritated eyes.

“I need a break,” you finish your thought.

“No, you don’t. We can work through this!”

“I’m tired Caleb,” you sigh.

“I am too but that’s okay!”

“I need to clear my head.”

“Tell me what to do then. Tell me what exactly you need me to do for you to come back to me. What is it? Please, pretty bird, I…I can’t be away from you!”

“Caleb,” you stop him. You hold his hands and squeeze them, unable to bring yourself to look at him. Not now, at least. “I need to be alone.”

It looks like Caleb was just shot ten times and was told to walk it off. He has been shot, has survived an explosion, has been stabbed before, sliced from another man’s knife while working. He was gone through watching his fellow soldiers fall, their planes being shot down during a dog fight. He has been experimented on, picked apart by Ever and Professor Lucius. He has had his memories ripped away from him, hidden in the depths of his mind, and is clinging to the remnants of what is left.

And yet you wanting to be alone, to be away from him, is the one thing that hurts the most.

A single tear rolls down his cheek, eyes strained and hands holding onto yours like you are about to step out of his life forever.

“I-I can’t,” Caleb stammers. His trembling voice pierces your heart.

Are you a bad person? It sure feels like you are. How could you put him through so much turmoil? And yet, how dare he hide his past life with her from you? He has had the chance to explain, to tell you why they will forever be connected until the end of their lives, but he hasn’t. Caleb has remained silent, only offering apologies and pleas for you to not leave him instead of an explanation.

Perhaps truth and honesty are not fertilizer. Maybe they are sharp axes ready to chop the tree down, to destroy all of the progress that you have made. It is a weapon that only threatens to smother the spark that once shined so brightly between you and Caleb.

“A break can be a good thing,” you try to reason with him, “gives us time to realize what is important in our lives. It can give us direction—”

“You are the most important thing in my life,” Caleb interrupts. He captures your cheeks between his hands, making you look up at him. “Don’t do this…please. At least stay the night, sleep on it, and we can talk about it in the morning, okay?”

Caleb’s purple eyes burn into yours. The wind pushes his hair out of his face, his lips slightly chapped from the wind. His cheeks are stained from tears just like yours and his hands tremble against your skin. You slowly inhale, the ice cold wind helping cool your body down from the heat of your anger. A lump forms in your throat.

“Okay,” you breathe out, nodding, “I need to be alone, though. I’ll stay out here for just a bit longer.”

“I’ll stay with you—”

“Just go back inside, Caleb,” you pull away from him and cross your arms over your chest, stepping away. You wipe away your tears, knowing that what you are telling him is nothing but a white lie, “I’ll be up there soon.”

You need to do what you do best. Run away. Hide. Pretend as if your world isn’t falling apart from around you and give yourself the time to be a broken person before returning to the face of the earth.

And Caleb? Caleb is the fool who believes you.

He comes up from behind and hug you. It’s a small gesture that rips your heart apart. It makes you drive the knife into his chest even deeper, the hilt of the blade now pressed against his chest.

Then he’s gone. He walks through the ravenous rain on his own and even left the umbrella behind for you to use. Just as he steps through the apartment doors, you stop a cab and get inside, heading for your home.

Bzzrt. Bzzrt. Bzzrt.

Your phone shimmies across the top of your desk. You stare at it, eyes tired with purple eye bags sunken into your skull. The phone stops for a brief moment. A sigh exits your mouth, closing your eyes. The buzzing begins again.

You know exactly who the messages are from. You know exactly what it is that they say and you don’t even want to waste the time and energy to check. You’ll get the same messages later tonight as well then the whole process will repeat itself in the morning.

You would be lying to yourself, though, if you said you didn't miss the way he hugged and kissed you in the morning.

Caleb was not handling the break well, like, at all. He was a mess. He knew that he shouldn’t have left your side that night. A piece of him know that you were going to run away, just like you did in high school and at the wedding. You would call it a calculated retreat whereas Caleb would call it a surrender.

You avoided him at work, which he respected. It didn’t stop him, though, from driving behind the bus you took to and from work, watching as you moved in and out of your apartment so he knows that you’re safe. Caleb also kept tabs on you at work, watching you through the security cameras as you smiled and laughed with other people. People who aren’t him.

Caleb passed you in the hallways of the Farspace Fleet’s Administrative building. Your eyes always met, even if it were just for a second, and it gave Caleb the motivation he needed to stay string, to let you come to him. He knows that if he were to bombard you, it’d only make you want to run further away, back into Linkon where he lives.

Caleb used up all of your sticky notes during the time you stayed away from him. He left you notes on your desk, telling you that you looked beautiful that day and that he misses you. Some of them even asked if you were ready to talk to him, to have dinner and let him explain what he’s been trying to protect you from.

You always said no. A simple text that ended with his colorful sticky notes being crushed under your fist, tossed into the trash for the janitor to take out later in the night. 

It’s okay, though, if it is space you need, he will give you space. If you need to take a moment for yourself and realize that he has all of the answers you need, the truth that you crave, then so be it. He will not be the one who stops you.

Well, that is what he told himself to feel better about the whole situation.

He knows that it is not fair to you to keep you in the dark about his and her’s past with Ever. The wounds, though, still feel fresh to him from his early childhood. He works with one of the men in charge of his experimentation, playing a game of cat and mouse to see who can outmaneuver the other. It’s a game that, quite frankly, he’s grown tired of but knows that the end will never come. 

Caleb wants to tell you all about it. He wants to unload the weight of turning you away from the darkest parts of his past and mind. He also doesn’t want you to try and carry that burden with him, to try and alleviate some of the pain that heel feels everyday. He already lives with the constant remind of his metal arm, his bones forever trapped underneath the layers of wires and metal. He has sacrificed so much already to not let the professor and Ever win…it’s why he won’t let you near it.

It pains him to know that you are out in the world and are completely on your own. He should be there to help you, to stop you from making any mistakes. It’s why he has waited so long for you. He let the days pass him by, allowing time to slip through his fingers.

He acted like he was fine, that he was okay. He pretended that he got a full night’s worth of sleep even though he stared out the window, hoping that you would walk through the doors at any moment.

He stares at you through the CCTV footage, wondering if you have come to realize that you hold the leash that’s connected to his dog collar. You stand from your desk, phone in hand, and exit the translator’s offices. He follows you throughout the building. You cross down a few hallways, staring at your phone screen. You press the button to an elevator and step inside.

Caleb sits up at his desk. The see through tablet remains in his hands as he stands. He slowly walks towards his office door, his dark brown hair falling into his eyes as he clicks through the multiple different feeds, trying to find you. It is only when he notices that you have come to his floor that he realizes that you are coming to find him.

The Colonel rushes to his desk, placing the tablet in the top drawer of his desk. He places his cap on his head, fixing his ling jacket in the reflection of the window, making for sure everything is in place and is perfect because he refuses to give you anything less than. Not anymore, at least.

There is a knock at his office door. He clears his throat and snaps his fingers, a hologram projection of the Deepspace Tunnel flashing to life. He glances towards the door and tightens his tie one last time.

“Come in,” he beckons with a slightly gentler tone than usual.

Caleb does not look in your direction, instead focusing on the projection in front of him. When the door closes and he hears the click of your shoes grow closer to him, he turns, taking in your tired appearance. He opens his mouth to say something but can’t bring himself to say it. He knows that you have already chastised yourself for it. There is no need for him to add to that grievance.

“Hi, pretty bird,” Caleb is the first to speak. You lean against his desk, looking around the clean office. When your eyes meet his, your body relaxes before tensing up once again.

“Caleb,” you breathe out, crossing your arms over your chest, “you need to stop texting me.”

“Why? I want to make for sure that—”

“I”m okay?” you finish his sentence for him. He nods and inches closer to you. He reaches out, his gloved hand diverting at the last second to rest on the desk beside you. You shudder from his sudden closeness, his familiar cologne disarming your weapons. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“I’m afraid that I will never not worry about you,” Caleb whispers. He looks down, noticing the way you hold onto yourself for dear life. His eyes flicker to yours, leaning in. He reaches up and grazes your cheek with his gloved fingers.

You suck in a breath. His touch is electrifying against your skin, igniting flames under your skin, burning with the desire to hold him in your arms and to cry together. 

“The General offered me a job,” your words cause his hand to move away from your face, “I think I’m going to take it.”

Caleb knows exactly what the General’s job is. He has been granted permission, alongside Ever, to meet with other countries and discuss the Toring Chip. Many of the countries they are going to speak the languages that you just happen to know and are proficient in. If Caleb didn’t know any better, he would have thought that the General specifically made the job positing with you in mind after the peace summit.

The trip is going to take approximately four months to complete, spending a hefty amount of time in every country, meeting with their leaders and the highest ranking officials in their army. There was sure to be talks outside of the Toring Chip. Minerals, weapons, peace treaties, and alliances are sure to be talked about with you in the center of it all. 

Caleb offered to go. He immediately contacted the General and told him that if he needed an extra man, that he is there to help. The General laughed and told him not to worry, that he already has plenty of men coming alongside him and to focus on the Deepspace Tunnel instead of unimportant politics.

Chills run down Caleb’s spine. You look up at him with a determined look in your eyes but Caleb knows that there is something inside your consciousness that is pushing you to run away from him. He wishes that you would have looked the other way when the General offered you the position.

“It’s a great opportunity for me, Caleb,” you breathe out, already sensing the underlying anxiety that forms in the back his mind. “It will give them the chance to see that I am more than a desk job…”

“You don’t need their validation for that,” Caleb quickly counters. “You are more than this entire building. You’re better than them. You don’t need to prove anything.”

“What else can I do? It’s either translating for the Fleet or teaching languages in school,” you suck in a breath, your tone sharp, “I’m stuck where I am and this is going to get me out of it.”

“Then let me take care of you. Stay with me, don’t go with them,” he places his hands on your waist.

“You’re acting like I’m going to be gone forever,” you let out a small laugh, placing your hands on his chest, “it’s just four months.”

“A lot can happen in four months,” Caleb’s gaze burns into yours.

“What are you so afraid of?” your question is bold and daring. “Don’t lie. I think we’ve done enough of that lately.”

“I don’t want you to leave me,” Caleb breathes the words out as if they are powerful enough to hurt you. “I think that if you accept the job, it will worsen our relationship and push us further apart than we already are.”

His words, while sharp, hold his truth. A piece of you knows that what he’s saying is true, that if you were to leave your relationship won’t recover. The space would have become too much. The distance just unbearable.

Are you doing this on purpose? Are you purposefully ruining the only good thing in your life?

You swallow the rest of your spit in your mouth, looking up at Caleb. He sighs and presses his forehead against yours. You close your eyes, taking in his closeness and the way his skin feels against yours. Caleb leans in and pecks your mouth, his lips lingering for a few seconds.

“I love you. Please, don’t go,” Caleb whispers.

Silence fills the room. He silently draws in a breath, eyes closed as he waits for your answer.

“Okay,” you whisper, “I won’t go. For us.”

A smile instantly spreads across Caleb’s lips. He pulls you off of the desk and into his arms, kissing the top of your head as you bury your face into his chest. His heartbeat comes to a slow, the adrenaline rush leaving his body. You relax into him, missing how tight his embraces always are. He pulls away and looks down at you, cupping your cheeks between his hands.

“Thank you,” Caleb says. You nod in return, a small smile forming on your face before it disappears.

“I should go tell him my decision, then,” you peel away from Caleb, your hands lingering on each other. He nods and watches as you move back to the door, an unsettling feeling resting in the back of his mind the further you get from him. “Can I…come over tonight?” You ask as you reach the door. “We have a few things to talk about.”

“Of course,” Caleb nods, “I’ll make your favorite for dinner.”

“That sounds nice,” your smile turns real. It makes Caleb’s heart skip a beat. You open up the door to his office and leave, heading down the hall from which you came.

Caleb is happy that you agreed to stay. He will make for sure that life is not boring for you, to help you shimmy up the ladder among your fellow translators. Whatever it is that he needs to do, he’ll make sure it happens. He will do anything for you and your happiness, even if it means blackmailing a few Fleet officers to make for sure you get the best jobs possible instead of being stuck at your desk.

His skin tingles. A sharp pain flashes through his modified arm. His purple eyes move back to the door, the General’s voice creeping into his head. He remembers his phone call with the high ranking official, trying to weave through the conversation to find what it is he needs.

“We’ll take good care of her,” the General told him from over the phone before he hung up.

We’ll take good care of her.

Caleb freezes.

The Toring Chip…four months…different countries…Ever has different buildings in different countries, Caleb knows this first hand from being one of the professor’s favorites.

The job targeted you.

He stares at the door, his heart beginning to pound inside his chest. He forces his feet to move, rushing towards the door. He bursts through, catching the attention of a few adjuncts and lower ranking officers. He stops a secretary from walking by, looking down at them.

“The General. Is he on location today?” Caleb demands, his purple eyes cold and dark.

“Y-Yes! I think his plane is about to take off!” the woman quickly responds, scared by Caleb’s dark demeanor.

The Colonel doesn’t waste another second. He rushes towards the elevator, pressing the button that leads to the tarmac on the top of the building where the General and other officials come in and out of. His boot taps against the floor. The elevator smells of your perfume. It only makes him more anxious.

The elevator doors slide open, a gust of wind hitting Caleb’s face as he bursts out of the door. He shields his eyes from the glaring sun, noticing that there are one too many clouds in the sky for comfort. He rushes across the black top, the soles of his shoes scraping against the coarse material.

Am aircraft’s engine roars to life. The machine whirrs, huffing out bursts of hot air and exhaust from the engines. The sound captures Caleb’s attention. His eyes focus on a few dark figures inside the aircraft. Professor Lucius stands inside, leaning into his cane. On either side of him stands two Fleet soldiers, guns in their hands. They look down at the aircraft’s open door.

You and the General stand in front of each other. Your back is to Caleb. The Professor’s eyes move to focus on the Colonel, who stands from across the tarmac. A sick smirk spreads across his face. The General smiles at you, though, and he nods, turning around before moving back up the ramp of the plane. You turn around.

Your eyes meet Caleb’s. You are just about to take a step towards him when the two soldiers who stand beside Professor Lucius move. 

They walk towards you.

Caleb begins to run, his feet slamming against the ground. He watches as your face contorts from pain, your hadn’t shooting up to your neck where a syringe was just plunged into your skin. You wobble around, looking at the soldiers before circling around once again.

Caleb screams your name but it is muffled out from the screams of jet engines and planes. Your vision blurs, hand extended out, reaching for him, before your world turns to black, body going limp. A solider picks you up and carries you inside of the plane. The aircraft’s door slowly closes, clicking shut just as Caleb reaches its vicinity.

The aircraft pulls out of its spot. It rolls down the black asphalt, pulling away from Caleb. The plane picks up speed and lifts into the air just as it reaches the edge of the building. Caleb sprints after it, fighting against the gusts of wind from the engines. He uses his Evol to glide through the air, reaching out for you and the plane. He flies across the sky, a mere black speck compared to the aircraft.

But it’s too late. You and the aircraft are out of his reach, disappearing behind fluffy white clouds, out of Caleb’s reach.

please drop a like, reblog, & comment!! i love see what you all have to say <3

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico doesn't notice it, at first.

Most of the day his eyes are just blue.

Pretty blue, of course. Most of Will is; pretty that is. He sounds it, especially, rolling r's and loud lovely laughs and a lower voice that's right on the edge of raspy. He matches it, too, his voice, he has the wild golden curls and veritable spattering of freckles that match the paint-spatter splash of his very being. He is pretty the way dandelions are pretty, bright and explosive and covering hills as far as the eyes can see.

Nico doesn't talk as much as he does. Most people don't, honestly, if there's one thing about Will it's that he's got something to say. Nico likes it when he talks, he likes to walk along and listen or track the waving of his arms as he rants during breakfast. When he watches he can see his big big eyes widen and narrow with every raised and falling pitch of his voice, he can see them sparkle with something secret every time a tripwire gets pulled and someone blames the Hermes cabin. When he watches he can see the shimmery, sky-blue catch in the sunlight, glowing with the pride of his father.

It takes a morning on the silent Apollo cabin veranda for Nico to catch the difference.

It is a Sunday, and he's awake by force of habit. He's been out of his time-distant past longer than he's ever been in it, but ten years of waking up at the crack of dawn, or before in the winter months, to slide on a starchy shirt and squeeze into pinchy shoes he hated, dutifully if grumpily holding onto Mama's left hand and making faces at Bianca around the curve of the pews, has made its mark. He's yet to spend a single Sunday morning anything but groggy but conscious, glaring out the lone Cabin Thirteen window.

One morning, he catches movement across the common.

The way the cabins are set up puts Nico on a small hill. It's interesting, really, and Nico doubts it was on purpose -- what with the disastrous design of the cabin before Nico renovated it -- but nothing venerating Hades is ever looking down on anyone else. His father is quite pleased with it, he knows, and for it the cabin is always pleasantly warm, and smells slightly like turned dirt. Garden dirt, thankfully, not grave; Nico cannot be sure and will never ask but sometimes he suspects his stepmother might have something to do with it. Either way Nico has a clear view of the entire camp from end to end, including the line of cabins gently curving from his down to Zeus's. Three doors down, and smack at the crux of the curve, is Apollo's: in the warming, rising sun, the gilded walls glow, making the red cedar beams holding up the roof look warm and lively, like there's life still growing inside. On the rickety, camper-built porch sits Will, up earlier even than any of his siblings, curled up in the corner of a porch swing. He rocks it ever slightly with one bare foot.

Unthinkingly, Nico walks over to join him.

It's harpy time still, technically. They have reign until the sun is high and clear in the sky, even in the lazier winter months. They glare at him, now, some more restlessly than others, but they know better than to come at him. Nico's sword is dark and obvious from its spot at his side, hands twitching towards it. Besides that his death aura clears him for a solid radial mile.

Will smiles, when he sees him coming.

"Mornin', sunshine," he says, voice soft in the barely-daylight. He taps the cushion next to him. "Come sit?"

It's pleading, almost, Nico notices. Not will you come sit, or wanna come sit. But come sit, as in here is your spot. Come sit as in I want you to.

Nico flushes and joins him.

"Yer up early."

His accent is thicker this early in the morning. Nico almost wants to shiver when he hears it, words short and vowels long. He looks like it, too, eyes closed and face mirroring the sun, tipped up to meet it. Long limbs curled up but bent, like the awkward ends of a sweet-tea straw. He bleeds warmth, from the foot of space between them.

"Sunday," Nico admits, just as quiet. He watches as Will drags a hand through his messy hair, smile tugging at the dimpled corners of his mouth. "Habit, I suppose."

"Yeah? Were ya up with them church-goers, once 'pon a time?"

Nico nods, suddenly restless. He sits on his hands to keep them from reaching out, to keep them from brushing along the bob of Will's Adam's apple.

"My abuela -- my mama's gramma, that is -- was Catholic, too. Crack'a dawn every week."

"Oh."

Nico forgets Will has a mortal life, sometimes. He seems so cornerstone to camp, mentioned in passing in every other story, a part of the schedule from breakfast's daily mental health check-ins to sing-along at ten. Even the infirmary bears his name -- never you should probably head over to the infirmary, but go on and get Will. Nico tries to imagine him without the backdrop of the strawberries, or in the empty desert, and comes up blank.

"Y'seem surprised."

"I am, I guess."

"How come?" He cracks an eye open, grinning. "'M too much of a sinner for it?"

Nico snorts, thinking of the thundering of the Ares cabin last night, coming home after campfire -- where Will has been suspiciously and conspicuously absent for all but his little number at the end -- to each and every bunk and possession attached to the ceiling. As far as Nico is aware, they spent the night on the cement floor.

"Something like that, you menace."

Will smiles, a self-satisfied little thing, and settles back onto the cushions. He exhales as it rocks and all tension melts from his broad shoulders; his extended hand rests limp and tempting in the cushion between them and every cell in Nico's blood itches.

The run rises, slowly. It takes its time by the measured sound of Will's breathing, warming the cracking calluses of his bare heels to the wind-rustled hem of his shorts. With every inch of sunlight he gets brighter, and Nico gets warmer, and warmer, and warmer.

When more than half of it has pushed its way over the crest of the horizon, he shifts, stretching, turning to face Nico fully. He opens his mouth to say something or make a comment and Nico does not hear it, in fact his ears go long and ringing, because his --

His eyes.

For the first time that morning, he faces Nico head on, elbow off the curve of his forehead, blond eyelashes catching in the warm rays. For the first time that morning, eyes fully open, Nico can see -- not the languid spread of him, or the endless, summer-dark freckles, but the width of his irises, the shine of his pebble-sized pupil: in the bright, early-dawn morning, Will's eyes are endless.

Blue is no longer the right color for them. Desperately, Nico searches around the porch roof, above the chimney of the Big House, and there they are, reflected in infinity: Will's eye are every jealous painter's deepest desire, they are the exact makeup of the morning sky from the pale blue at the rounded top to the golden clouds reflecting the flares of the gentle yellow sun. There are even lines, cutting straight through, of pure, gentle gold; like the angular rays of Heaven looking kindly on the spinning Earth, so stretch the lines in Will's infinitely expanding irises. Layered in between the blue and the gold is the color Nico has never been able to name, the color like pillow softness, the color like soft hands on a fevered forehead, the color like coming in from the biting cold. The color like welcome on in and I got you, darlin'. The color like a long, easy inhale that sits soft and easy in your tired lungs.

"You're starin'," says Will, quietly.

Nico swallows. He doesn't even know what to think in response.

"Everythin' alright?"

Nico's hands twitch, again, and this time he doesn't have half to strength to stop them; unbidden they move slowly up the curve of Will's cheek, pinky lingering on the prominent tendons of his scarred neck. He rests his palms on the softness of his jaw and his thumbs on the dips under his eye, hands cupped like before the holy Eucharist. He waits, mouth dry, tongue poised in anticipation of the I believe.

"Your eyes," he breathes, finally. Its mirrored in the hitch of Will's chest. "My God above."

"Ain't nothin' special," Will argues, or tries to. Heat begins to bloom under the curl of Nico's palm, and Will's voice as gone reedy and thin. "I'm -- they're just blue, darlin', what have you --"

"They're not." Nico stops himself from becoming vehement, barely, but can't slow the firm shake of his head, the whip of his rapidly warming hair. "They're -- they're sky blue Will, gods." He tilts Will's head, slightly, and he goes, swallowing heavy. "This is the kind of thing artists dream about."

That makes Will blush, heavy and hard from the tips of his forehead to below the collar of his shirt. Nico smiles, fond, something heated along the bridge of his own nose, but he cannot help but notice that Will's eyes are still shifting, even as he narrows them, even as he cringes away from Nico's words; the golden along the bottoms spreads, now, past half his irises, like sunlight on shoreline.

"You're -- full'a somethin, di Angelo," he accuses, only his pretty voice cracks. "I dunno what's got you smoother than a polished river stone, but cut that right out, y'hear me?"

Or what, Nico wants to challenge. He is emboldened, now, by Will's embarrassment; as much as he squirms he does not move away. But as the sun crests higher and higher the gold begins to fade, irises smoothing bright and blue and reflective of the sky, still. Robin-egg pale at this exact moment. But familiar enough that Nico exhales, obedient, and drops his hands, scoots way.

"You got possessed," Will mumbles, still curled in on himself. But he smiles slightly to himself and Nico mirrors it, drinking in his shy, shocked pleasure. When he looks over and huffed there is a brazenness in his teeth, a sudden realization of what Nico has been seeing this whole time: he is pretty, and quite obviously so. Even in the neon of his Head Medic shirt. "Oddball."

Nico says nothing, knocking him gently across the shoulders. He settles back in the cushion right next to him, and together they rock, on the creaky old swing, watching lights flick on, shadows move across curtained windows.

Nico looks up into the brightening sky and finds it familiar.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Steadfast 7

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, obsession, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: King!Bucky Barnes (Medieval AU)

A Knights, Kings, and Knaves Story

Summary: you serve Duke Rogers, but when his friend, the king, takes an interest, you find your work in turmoil.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Alle wraps a ribbon around your hair. You're in a daze as you hear the men's voices without. This cannot be real.

You look down at the silken robe, dressed up with a braided belt and chain at your neck. The older woman touches your cheek.

"He loves you. I see it in him." She smiles. "All women are afraid on days as these."

Days as these? You are a servant. You are not to wed a king. Not to wed any man at all.

"Thank you, Alle, and Uma and Ebomoh, for your kindness," your voice trembles. "How can I repay you?"

"Do not worry for it. Weddings are sacred. It is not a debt to be balanced," Alle assures. "With honour we attend any bride."

Uma goes to the door. Alle dips her chin and Ebomoh loops her arm through yours. She turns you and your heart flutters. It cannot be. Surely, it cannot.

The voices outside quiet as Uma opens the door and lets the sunshine in. It's softer now as the afternoon deepens to amber. You let the younger sister bring you out.

The king watches from beside Lord Rogers. The former is dressed in blue silk with white sash over his shoulder. The latter is much the same as he was. Rogers is not impressed.

You are led to stand across from the king as Mihe grins. Ebomoh lets you go and the king reaches for you. He takes your hand in his.

"Your highness, please, it isn't true, is it?" You murmur as he leans in to hear you.

"These weeks we've spent together, sweet one, it cannot be any other." He smiles at Mihe.

You do not protest. Who are you to a king? Even though you should ask as much. Make him see you are only a servant. He is a king and he must marry a woman worthy of a crown.

Thick smoke tickles your nose. It has a spicy scent. You glance over Alle waves the thick stub in her hand as it sends out white tendrils. It must be their way.

Mihe addresses the king by his full title and you peer back to the man. He begins his rites. "Do you, before your witnesses, before the sun and the sky, before the gods you pray to, take this woman, to be yours until the eternal dusk, be it drought or plenty, be you unwell or in health?"

"With all my heart, I do," King Bucky proclaims, squeezing your hands tighter. His grip is as iron as his blade.

"And you," Mihe calls you by name, "do you, before your witnesses, before the sun and the sky, before the gods you pray to, take this man, to be yours until the eternal dusk, be it drought or plenty, be you unwell or in health?"

You search the king's face. What can you do but as he wills it. He would not have you here as you are if he did not want this. Yet, you know it is not right.

"I do."

"So you are heard," Mihe says. "And your witness, Lord Steven Grant Rogers," he looks to the duke. "Do you witness these vows in earnest?"

Lord Rogers' nostrils flare. "I witness it."

"So you are bound," Mihe declares. "Go forth and be fruitful."

The king draws you to him. He places a kiss on your forehead as he cradles your face in his hands. He hums.

"My pip," he says.

"Your highness," Lord Rogers growls.

The king strokes your cheek with his thumb before he draws away. "My lord," he replies dryly.

"You said you will come."

"In the morn. When I've had my wedding night."

"That was not discussed," Rogers puts his hands on his hips. His face is shiny with sweat. "We must away, now."

"You give orders to your king," King Bucky retorts, his hand on your arm.

"The other kings are impatient. Your own subjects whisper of the unimaginable. You must come and reassure all that you live."

The king snorts, "they think me dead?"

"They might assume it."

"Oh, Rogers, you worry too much. Doubt me even more."

Rogers tilts his head until his neck cracks and he sighs. "I have been your shield and the cracks begin to deepen. I have fended off their volleys but I cannot for much longer. You need come." He pauses and looks at you. His cheek ticks. "There are beds in the capital."

The king laughs again. You look at him nervously. You wring your hands before you.

"You persist like a disease," King Bucky shakes his head. "Very well, we will ready to be away."

"You are leaving?" Mihe asks.

"I beg your forgiveness, Lord Mihe," the king says. "I would not spurn your hospitality. Your family has been good to me and mine. I will not forget you and you will receive bounty yet."

"You are most generous," Mihe says. "My wife would make a wedding feast."

"So much as I wish to indulge, my duke must have me away. My people await me." He stalls and glances at you. "And my wife should be settled."

"Ah, yes, wives," Mihe agrees. "We will feast in your honour and bid the stars bless our wedding night."

"Many thanks, Mihe." He bows his head. "We will meet again."

"I know we will," Mihe agrees.

You rock on your feet. "Dear thing," Alle approaches, "you go too soon."

"Thank you, Alle," you say. "Truly. And Uma and Ebomoh. In another life, I would like to have a mother and sisters like you."

"Many blessings. You will be a good wife," Alle kisses your hairline.

Your eyes sting. Not only because you must leave them, but out of fear. You are scared of what comes next. You are unsure of it.

You turn back to the king as Rogers looks up at the sky. The duke sets his chin. "We must go now if we want to outpace the night."

"Yes, Lord Rogers," King Bucky sneers defiantly. "You are clearly heard."

[night-night-stories-before-bed]

Don’t take my sunshine away.

Part 2.

Warning; angst, grief, mental instability, mention of murder past and future.

Pairing; Batman/Male Reader (Established)

Note; I couldn't resist and had to make a second part. I will also have a third coming!

Summary; Even if it's been months, Jason is still on your mind and your grief is still drowning you. Yet, Superman found a way to make it worse until you snapped again and decided to give the Man of Steel a taste of the Joker’s medicine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Batcave felt colder than usual as you sat next to Bruce. A little shiver ran down your back and you felt Bruce put his cloak on you. You smiled at him as he kissed your forehead and you squeezed his hand, trying to show your husband you were fine. Even if you weren't.

Jason was still on your mind. Every minute, every second of the day haunting you and his literal last word echoing in your head. There was the anger, the pure rage that sometimes hit you like a tsunami coming from nowhere, leaving you shaking and ready to destroy everything. Amiss everything, Bruce and Dick had been your rock, just like you were theirs. You probably wouldn't have survived Jason’s death if it wasn't for them.

Dick was coming at least once a week and stayed two days, going out at night with Bruce. It was probably the only good thing coming from losing Jason; Dick and Bruce were getting closer once more. The tension between them was still there and they often came back from patrol arguing, but it always made you smile. They looked so much like father and son, just like when Dick was still Robin.

Your eyes turned to the computer, staring at the time. It was very early morning and Dick wouldn't be here until at least noon, but until then you still had visitors.

Clark and J’onn had come to talk, in the name of the whole Justice League. When Bruce told you about it, you guessed the reason immediately; Batman hadn't worked as much with the League since Robin’s death. Not only was Bruce not in the right state of mind, but he also didn't want to leave you alone in Gotham. He also knew you would be way too worried for him, your nerves still fragile. In his words, you were like a ticking time bomb ready to explode and he wasn't wrong.

When Bruce got up, you knew your guests were there. You turned your chair to face them, keeping Bruce’s cloak wrapped around you. You smiled at J’onn when the green Martian waved at you and returned his salute. You knew that J’onn understood your pain, he who had also lost two children and his wife. Clark nodded toward you and you did the same, but you saw something in his eyes and you knew things were going to go South.

You watched the three men walk away and then turned back to the screen. After a few clicks, you acceded to the camera feeds and enjoyed them. Gotham at night was an open asylum, but now it seemed so calm without a trace of crime. Well, nothing that required Batman anyway.

Until you heard Bruce raising his voice, that caught your attention because your husband was always calm. Frowning, you silently walked toward them, trying to overhear what was going on.

- “You cannot be serious Clark. That a low blow.” The voice of J’onn said.

- “That not… I didn’t mean you were going to cheat on your husband!” Superman tried to defend himself. “I meant it would be understandable if you were… you know going to divorce him and get someone more stable.”

You froze, heart dropping in your chest as you felt tears filling your eyes. You never expected Clark to think so low, so badly of you. You squeezed Bruce’s cloak in your fist, feeling your bones shaking.

- “That doesn’t sound better, Clark. He lost his son, his child. That something you can’t even understand the pain of.” Bruce said, venom in his voice.

- “He is trying to make you a murderer!” Clark replied as sharp.

- “Look me in the eyes and tell me the Joker is better alive than death!”

- “You two calm down. Fighting like that won’t do anyone any good. We need to think about his well being too. He is still grieving just like you Bruce. No one should bury a child not lose them like you two did.” J’onn interrupted and you could imagine him placing himself between the two men.

- “If we need to think about his well being then maybe he would be better placed.”

Superman’s reply was like a slap in the face, making you take a few steps back. Biting your lips, you almost ran away, not waiting to know what Bruce was going to say or do. You trusted your husband, knew he would have your back and never would betray you. Yet it didn’t take the pain of those words away.

You left the cave, going back to the manor. Somewhere in the between you lost Bruce’s cloak, but didn’t notice it until you found yourself in front of Jason’s bedroom door. You rested your hand on the handle, hesitating to enter. As much as Clark's words had stung, there was a part of truth in them. Your grief was holding back Bruce and you hadn't made much progress since that horrible night.

But you just couldn't.

Couldn't stop seeing Jason’s beaten body covered in his own blood.

Couldn't stop hearing his last word, him calling you Papa for the last time.

You broke down crying, pressing your forehead against the door and covering your mouth not wishing to be heard. Never again would you hear Jason make a bad joke or see him running to his motorcycle to follow Bruce’s Batmobile. Over were the days you two would pass working on his motorcycle or shopping to find pieces.

There would never come another evening watching a match just the two of you while Bruce was on patrol.

You weren't a father anymore. The Joker had taken the title from you like he did so many others and there was nothing you could do against it. Superman was preventing you and Bruce from getting true justice, stopping any attempt at killing the Joker. It was impossible for you to get better, his presence in your city an eternal reminder of what was taken from you.

As long as the Joker lived you would never accept Jason’s death. If only he could die or disappear!

Disappear.

You stopped crying, tears still rolling down your cheeks as you bit down on one of your fingers as the thought made its way into your mind. It was disgusting and horrible, but also terribly dangerous. Yet it was the best response to the situation and you hated yourself for thinking about doing it.

As Bruce Wayne’s husband, you were as known and as influential as him. His money was yours he kept saying, letting do as much charity as you wanted. After years of being married and living in Gotham, you did as much good as you could for your city. And it attracted friends who were as influential and powerful as you. So yes that terrible thought could be made true with only a few calls.

You took a deep breath and pushed yourself away from Jason’s door. You knew what you had to do even if Bruce was going to be mad at you. It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.

It was only hours later that you heard Bruce enter his office and approach you. You stood still in front of the window watching the sun rise while drinking a cup of coffee. Neither of you said a word. Bruce simply walked up to you and wrapped his arms around you, kissing your shoulder. You knew he knew you overheard them. Maybe it was your red and puffy eyes, maybe because you weren't in the cave anymore.

- “Clark is pretty pissed off with your stun.” Bruce said, resting his chin on your shoulder, his lips brushing against your ear. “I understand why you did it, but you should have talked to me first.”

Or he knew what you did…

You scoffed and leaned in your spouse’s embrace, closing your eyes for only a moment.

Your calls had worked and everyone was just in a hurry to make it happen. Everyone wanted the Joker gone and convincing Metropolis Asylum to take him in had not been hard. Especially after saying that he wouldn't be a threat with Superman always around. Metropolis Asylum was avant-garde in terms of technology and security and it wouldn't be filled with corrupted employees.

- “If we can't kill him to avenge Jason, we shouldn't have to deal with him at all.” You said with a sigh. “Clark can take care of him and have a taste of the Joker’s medicine. Besides, as your friend he can do that service for you.”

- “You still should have talked to us, me, first.”

- “No, because y'all would have refused and I just can't do it anymore Bruce. I just can't. He is always on my mind, laughing because he knows we can't do shit to him. I have to live in the same city as the murderer of my son and it's driving me nuts!”

Bruce tightened his arms around you as you sobbed, hands grabbing your cup so hard you expected it to crack at any second now. You felt Bruce pressing his forehead against your head as he whispered soft words you could barely hear. It took you a few minutes to calm down and your husband gently dried your cheeks.

- “I am not angry, not at all.”

- “I am so sorry Bruce. I keep hurting and dragging you down with me.” You sighed, defeated. “Clark is right. You deserve so much better.”

- “Nonsense. I promised to love you in health and in sickness, in joy and grief. I couldn't wish for someone better than you.”

You chuckled, finally having a small smile. Those words were like a balm to your broken soul. It has always been you two against the world and you were happy that Bruce still felt the same after all those years. There was nothing he wouldn't do for you just like you got him. You two went through so many hardship only to come out closer.

- “I spoke with J’onn and he offered his guidance if you would have him. He is ready to share his own experience with losing is family and be here for you.” Bruce said, gently letting go of you before he rested his hands on your shoulders.

You trusted J’onn with your and Bruce’s life and mind. Maybe you should accept since there was no one else around you who could understand such pain. There was no one else around you who had lost children after all. Parents? Yes. Kids? Just J’onn.

You nodded, accepting the offer and Bruce kissed you.

- “I’ll let J’onn know you accepted. He will be glad to hear that.” Bruce said, resting his hand on your cheek. “I also kicked Clark out. He won't come back until he excuses himself for his words to you.”

- “Bruce!” You groaned and rolled your eyes.

- “No, Clark is in time-out until you actually forgive him. I don't care if he expressed himself badly, he still said those words and hurt you.”

You smiled, truly, looking Bruce in the eyes. What a sweet man your husband was.

- “Thank you.”

- “You are welcome. Alfred made your favorite breakfast and its ready.”

- “Are you…”

- “Of course, I am going to eat with you.”

Bruce led you out of his office, one arm wrapped around your waist. After months you finally felt like a weight was being lifted off your shoulders. The Joker wasn't in Gotham, wasn't Bruce’s problem anymore and you didn't have to fear something similar would happen to Dick. It wasn't perfect, it wasn't justice, but you knew you could truly begin to heal now.

The hole and void in your heart would never be filled, but as long as you had Bruce by your side, it would never consume you.

[toomuchracket]

pool party (d word matty x reader fluff/smut)

day 21 of summer75, and today we have a fun little look at the reality of these fuckers' relationship before anybody knew they were a thing (aka, the one where they're both horny but can't fuck without being suspicious or caught). enjoy <3

you: do u like black or lilac better

matty 😚: in what context?

you roll your eyes, quickly firing back a reply. just pick a colour, babe

matty 😚: lilac

you: thank u <3 i'll meet you all in a min

matty 😚: hurry up please i miss u

you: will do, lover

chucking your phone into your beach bag, you giggle to yourself as you slip into a lilac bikini and sandals. there's a fading hickey the same colour as your swimsuit just under your jaw, you notice as you fix your hair in the mirror, but you don't bother trying to cover it up - hopefully, in wearing your secret boyfriend's favourite colour to a pool party where he cannot touch you at all, you’ll get more of them later.

judging by matty’s expression when you waltz out of the villa to the pool a few minutes later, more marks are a certainty tonight. you spot him as soon as you step outside, lazing insouciantly on a sunlounger, hair dripping wet and body shimmering in the sunshine, and for the briefest of moments you feel truly distraught that you can't just go and drape yourself over him, let his hand find its way to your arse as it does whenever you cuddle up to him. but the feeling passes in favour of exhilarated glee when you notice his jaw drop at the sight of you, a feeling that grows when he slides his sunglasses up to let his eyes trail better over your body. you wink at him, and he smirks, putting his glasses back on when your attention is taken by john asking if you want a drink, to which you eagerly respond in the affirmative.

all in all, you don't actually end up anywhere near matty for about an hour, preoccupied with chatting to your friends, taking pictures with the girls, eating your way through the massive fruit salad adam decided to make “so nobody gets too pissed because they haven't eaten anything”; only after that do you strategically go to sit on the edge of the pool near where your boyfriend and george are splashing each other and laughing like kids, dangling your legs in the warm water while you light up a cigarette and sip at your pornstar martini.

as soon as you exhale your first drag, george seems to materialise in the water front of you, matty trailing behind him (and looking at you like you're a three course meal). “my good friend,” he begins, all gravel drawl and grin. “might i perhaps have one of those cigarettes, please?”

“christ, you're like a bloodhound. here,” you pull the pack and lighter from your bag, setting them down beside you. as george pulls himself out of the pool to sit next to you and light up, you turn to your boyfriend. “you having one?”

matty shakes his head, eyes never leaving your body. “s'not what i want right now, darling.”

“no? alright,” you take another drag, spreading your legs slightly to give him a better look at what he does want while you sip your drink. “want a taste?”

his eyes widen, flicking up to yours in disbelief. “hmm?”

you wave your glass at him, face as saccharine as your cocktail. “of the drink.”

“oh, i- no, thank you,” matty shakes his head. “sorry. blanked for a second there.”

george scoffs. “matty, you fucking perv, she didn't mean it like that,” he turns to you while matty splutters out a response of some kind. “sorry about him, mate. doesn't know how to act around attractive women anymore cos he hasn't gotten any in so long,” he laughs, smirking when he notices the mark on your neck. “but apparently you have! good for you. i trust it was decent?”

you're acutely aware of matty, completely still in the water while he waits for you to answer - you smirk, deciding to fuck with him a little. “well, to be honest, george,” you stub out your cigarette, pausing dramatically. “it was mid.”

matty snorts, squinting at you - disbelieving, but to anyone else it would look like he's just affected by the sun - while george cackles. “was it anyone we know?”

“well, a lady never tells,” you smile, turning to your boyfriend. “matty, if i get in the pool, will you carry me? don't wanna get my hair wet.”

he rolls his eyes. “you're such a princess. get in here.”

giggling at the nickname, you down the rest of your drink. “bye, george. don't smoke all my fags!”

“i won't!”

“you better not! right,” you slide into the water, wrapping your limbs around matty and beaming when he grabs your arse and starts to walk towards the centre of the pool. “hiya.”

“afternoon. you comfy?”

“yeah… wait, just let me,” you wriggle around a little in his grasp, accidentally-on-purpose pushing your boobs into his face for a second before looking at him with a shit-eating grin. “oopsies.”

“you're lucky i can't spank you underwater, you know,” matty smirks, walking the two of you further from the rest of your friends. “for that, and for that fucking mid comment earlier. mid? me making you squirt on my dick was mid?”

you whimper at the memory, clit tingling as you recall the five consecutive orgasms you made it through, before it all got too much to bear and you soaked your boyfriend, much to his delight. “no, daddy, m'sorry,” you tuck your face into his neck, softly kissing it. “was a bad joke. loved it, really,” you move to whisper in his ear. “love you.”

matty's whole demeanour changes - he softens, attitude melting away to reveal the sweetheart you know and love so much. “s'alright, princess, i love you too,” he turns to kiss your head before pulling back to smile at you. “my beautiful girl, in my favourite colour. that was sweet of you to ask, baby.”

“just wanted to turn you on, really.”

he laughs. “well, you've done that, sweetheart,” he pulls your bottom half closer into his. “feel how fucking hard you've got me?”

“yeah,” you breathe. “shit, i wish you could fuck me right now.”

“same,” he rests his head on your shoulder. “d'you think we're being too obvious, by the way? like… you clinging to me?”

“every single person here saw you do a tequila shot from between my tits a month before we were even together, so…” you giggle, hugging him tighter when he laughs too. “i think we're good.”

“s'pose,” matty turns his head towards the rest of your friends, where ross is yelling something about ordering dinner. he sighs. “we'd better go and see them, yeah?”

“might as well,” you reply glumly, sighing dramatically as matty carries you through the water. “guess i'll just have to have sex with you in a pool some other time.”

“oh, believe me, darling, i'll do everything i can to make that happen,” he kisses your head, the final brush of his lips on your skin before you run the risk of being caught. “tonight, though, i do have that massive bath in my room, if you like…”

“absolutely. i'll be there at eight.”

“looking forward to it, princess.”

[johnwickb1tsch]

Vino Veritas - Part VII

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. NSFW. Angst. Grump/sunshine trope. Loosely based on the movie but I'm not that smart. Or bitter. 😆 chapter map.

VII. Everything’s On Fire And It’s Perfectly Fine

You cannot exactly claim the next few weeks go well for you. 

You do a lot of cliché sunset beach walking, heavy sighing, and general wallowing in self pity.

You’re simply miserable, without him, and the feeling does not fade with time. 

Usually you are pretty content with your stupid little existence. Yet now, you feel like something is genuinely missing that you need. There’s a Frank-shaped hole in your heart–and you are bleeding out. 

It’s so bad that your regulars notice the change in your demeanor, when they come in to browse. They ask what’s wrong, and all you can do is shrug and make a lame excuse. It’s just not professional, to tell your customers that you're dying inside.

Anytime you try to coax yourself into just moving on, trying someone else, anything else…the thought dies a bitter death on a sword sharpened to a killing edge on the memory of that hilariously acerbic, utterly singular, wonderful grouch of a man. He hated everything, but for what felt like just a fleeting moment…he’d liked you. It certainly doesn’t help either, that he’s the only man you’ve ever felt comfortable enough with to really connect with on a carnal level. There was no putting on a show for Frank. No possibility of lying to him. He saw through everything, and that man just had your number in a way that you fear you’ll never encounter again. 

You’d be a liar, if you said you didn’t consider driving up to J.D. Power with that boombox. You even looked it up on Google maps. One hour, forty-five minutes, up the coast, if traffic was good. Of course in L.A. traffic was never good.

You would have braved it anyway.

Except, it turns out you are a total coward, and you know that if he rejected you, you really would want to die.

Then, you start to think you’re actually losing your mind, when you keep thinking you see him around. On the beach, a stranger in the distance is his very doppelganger. Then in town, you think you see him around a corner. By the time you rush down the block to look, he’s gone. 

You try to exorcize him by sketching his face from memory instead, at your tablet on the easel by the window that faces the ocean, up in your live-in studio above the store. It soothes you and agitates you all at once. You wonder what he thought, when he realized you slipped your possum shirt in his bag, in the airport when he wasn’t looking.

On a slow day due to rain, you decide to retreat back upstairs to your nest. The gray skies match your mood, and it won’t be the first time you’ve curled up and let the day go by, watching the relentlessly breaking waves.

Of course, just as you get settled in with a soft blanket, you hear the bell above the door downstairs chime. Usually the promise of a new customer fills you with a thrill of excitement, even after all these years, but today…you half regret not turning the OPEN sign in the window.

You check yourself briefly in the mirror, deem yourself half-passable, which is as good as it gets these days. Your hair is wild, and your eyes are sad. At least your clothes are clean, your time-worn ruffled sundress and oversized cardigan against the chill coming off the waves. You make your way down the stairs–and you almost eat shit on a cluster of colorful rocks left right in the middle of the runner. You catch yourself with a few choice words, gripping the bannister white-knuckled.

How the fuck did those get there?

Then you realize they’re similar to the ones you sell in your shop–but not exact.

You examine them, realizing that the one closest to your foot has a word engraved on it in curly slanted script: Fuck.

You look more closely at the other rocks in their now somewhat jumbled order. “I Miss Fuck You?” you read to yourself aloud, puzzled.

“You have got to be the clumsiest person I’ve ever met.”

Startled, you look up, scanning what you thought was an empty shop. But then you see him attempting to conceal his obscenely tall form behind an art card rack. It’s ridiculous–and your heart does its best imitation of a supernova.

Boom.

“You asshole!”

He frowns, but has no time to deliver a scathing retort, because you have leapt the remaining stairs and bound the short space to throw yourself into his arms–or more truthfully, just at him. An onlooker might have testified assault over ardor, in your frenzied tackle, as you throw your arms around his neck. He catches you with a surprised, “Oomph,” solid as a wall. You take heart in that his grip is just as desperate as yours. He still tries to get in that riposte, but you head him off again with your mouth on his.

You actually feel the tension leave his body, as you kiss him, and he kisses you, practically picking you up with his arms like iron bands around your waist.

“That’s your big gesture?” you finally demand. “Booby trapping my stairs with profane rocks?”

He honest to god growls at you, and it thrills you to your now curling toes. “It was supposed to say Fuck I miss you, but you had to ruin it.”

“Sorry I almost died?”

Then he is smiling down at you with that glitter in his dark eyes, and you are simply overcome with emotion, your fingers curling in the lapels of his jacket. “I fucking missed you too,” you admit, unable to stop yourself from tugging on him for emphasis.

He is breathing through his nose as he looks down at you, his expression somewhere between affection and constipation. It dawns on you that it’s more than a little likely he was terrified up until two seconds ago, and you soften even more for him, reaching up to stroke his beard. He leans into your hand, closing his eyes, and you know this is it for you. You are done for, and there is no further hope for your sanity. 

“Come upstairs,” you say, pulling on his lapels back in the direction from whence you came. You’re not sure how it’s possible for those midnight black eyes to darken more as he looks down at you, but he follows you without a word with his hand in yours. You flip the Open sign on the door as you pass by, turning the deadbolt without breaking stride. 

You have something important to do. 

***

Between kisses he looks around your second-floor apartment, smiling to himself with that judgy amusement in his eyes. It’s an open space, and there’s no hiding anything really, from your brightly clothed bed to the living area with its mismatched seating draped in bright fabrics, to your little studio space by the window to the miniscule nook of the blue-painted kitchen cabinetry.

“What?” you ask, poking him in the ribs, certain he’s going to make fun of you for your hippy-dippy boho decor. 

“Nothing,” he grunts, smiling against your mouth, assisting you in pushing his jacket from his shoulders. You’re tempted to throw it across the room, but you behave yourself and drape it nicely over the back of a chair. 

“Let me guess. ‘It looks like Pier 1 vomited in here.’” 

He snorts with laughter. “You said it, not me.” 

With a feral little growl you push him to sit on your bed. He’s so tall it just puts you eye to eye, and you cannot stop yourself from crawling into his lap. He gathers you closer greedily, his big hands engulfing your backside. God how you missed this man, and the way you fit together.

“Honestly? It’s exactly what I pictured,” he tells you gently, that tenderness in his dark eyes that utterly melts your last brain cells.     

“Does that mean…you’ve been thinking about me?”

He makes that strangled huff of a sound that passes for laughter, steeped with self-deprecation. “Yeah. You could say that.”

For a long few moments you just look at each other, caught up in the unlikely miracle that you’re here, together, once more. 

You really had believed you would never see him again. You’d believed it to the bone, and now this feels more than a little surreal. 

You consider what to do. Do you play the game, and try not to let on how absolutely bat-fuck insane you’ve been, without him? Would it be unseemly, to clamor with all your affection worn proudly on your sleeve, now that this man has dared to give you a second chance? As you look at him now, moved to the bottom of your soul that he swallowed his pride and his fear to appear at your door–you are done with games. You’re not going to hold a piece of yourself back, just in case. If this man breaks your heart again–at least you’ll know you gave it your all. 

“I’ve really missed you,” you tell him again, cupping his bearded cheeks in your hands, holding him lightly. 

He flinches at that, his eyes narrowing as for once, it seems like he is at a loss for a reply. He did good with the rock schtick, but saying it out loud in actual words from his mouth seems to present a problem for him. With his truth stuck on his tongue, he settles for pulling you into his embrace, burying his face in the bend of your neck with his arms wrapped tightly around you, like you might disappear if he lets go. And then his lips are on your neck, and his big hands are dragging down your ribcage to your hips, and you feel the circuits in your brain spark and melt for this man’s touch. 

You’d be a liar, if you said you hadn’t put yourself to sleep more than a few times, thinking about him with your hand in your panties and his name on your lips like a prayer. Straddling his lap now with his warm palms smoothing up your thighs, underneath your skirts to cup your ass–you are a one-woman stick of dynamite ready to explode. The way he squeezes your flesh with a groan from deep in his throat–you are soaked through your panties, your empty pussy clenching to the point of pain. 

Maybe it would be better, in the long run, to sit and talk this out a little bit before jumping into bed. Your libido, however, seems to find this rational suggestion from your higher brain utterly laughable.  

The pure longing this man calls up from within you–it really should be illegal, and you almost wish it only had to do with the fact that he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. That would be simpler. Safer, somehow. Less painful, maybe, if and when it all goes to shit. But you know it’s too late to pretend. Where your body goes with this man, your heart follows, skipping blithely off to its doom. 

This is fine, you think, as he lowers you onto your back, his delicious weight pressing you down into your soft bed as he claims your mouth with his. 

Everything’s on fire, and it’s perfectly fine. 

“Y/n…” He sits up on his elbows, looking down at you with that haunted, totally lost expression again. You reach up to run your fingers through the silken waves of his hair. It’s obvious there’s something he wants to say, but the words keep sticking on his tongue. 

“It’s ok, Frank,” you try to assure him. Like allowing him to lay on top of you in your bed isn’t indication enough of your happiness with his presence. 

“I can’t say I didn’t hope this would go this way. But I’m not such a narcissist as to think it’s the only way it should have gone. I absolutely deserve a kick in the balls for the way I treated you.”

You raise an eyebrow to this, trying not to laugh at the mental image. “I hate to tell you,” you inform him, twining your leg with his. The bulge pressing against your center practically makes your mouth water. “But that’s not the plan I have for your balls.”

“Very kind of you. I’m serious though.”

“Me too. Believe it or not…” You brush his hair behind his ear. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You realize this might be a foreign concept to him.

“Y/n…” He closes his eyes momentarily, maybe because you are petting him, and maybe because this is all too much.  “Aren’t you angry at all?”

You think on it. Really think on it, rather than give some off the cuff answer that maybe isn’t exactly true. “No,” you finally answer, and you mean it. “I’m just…relieved. I really thought I’d never see you again, and I was too chicken to go after you. I was afraid you’d say mean things to me and turn me away.” You blink back the moisture that gathers in the corners of your eyes.

“I probably would have,” he admits with a frown, more for himself than you, you’re beginning to realize. His eyes widen as he looks down at you, his long fingers stroking the hair at your temples. “I’m a fucking menace, y/n. I…if we do this, I’m going to hurt you.” The realization at saying it out loud really seems to drive it home for him. He bows his head to rest on your chest, as though ashamed of something he hasn’t even done yet. “Fuck.” 

He shifts as though he means to extricate himself from you, abandon you, again. You thwart him at least for the moment by wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him back to you. You know if you have a real wrestling match, this man who is twice your size is so going to win, but maybe, just maybe, he’ll listen to you for another five seconds. 

“Please don’t leave me over something that hasn’t even happened yet.” You know you sound more than a little pathetic–but you also know if he walks out the door again like this it will destroy you. 

“Y/n…” He growls your name, and the sound does unmentionable things to your insides. “You’re so sweet and pretty and talented, and you deserve good things in your life.” It seems more than a little surreal to you, that this man, who sees the world exactly for what it is and pulls no punches, puts you of all people on a pedestal. That tingling electric feeling is coursing through your limbs again, to your very bones. It’s the most alive you’ve felt in a long while. 

“Excellent,” you inform him brightly. “I’ll start with having you.” 

“You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re not listening to me. We’ll take it day by day,” you think out loud, stroking his cheek with the blade of your thumb. “And if you hurt my feelings, you’ll say you’re sorry, and I’ll forgive you. And hopefully you’ll have the same patience for me, because fuck knows I’m no picnic either.”

With a sigh that comes from the depths of his soul Frank rests his head on your chest, finally relaxing a little. 

“You have so much hope,” he grumbles at your breast, like he’s annoyed about it.

“Only as of fifteen minutes ago, I assure you,” you tell him honestly, running your fingers through his hair. You can’t seem to stop yourself.

He makes that animalistic sound in the back of his throat, snarling at all the doubts and contingencies running at breakneck speed through his over-analytical brain. His next words come so quietly you almost miss them. 

“I think I need you.”

A long breath made of pure relief escapes you,  and you keep running your fingers through his hair. “You’ve got me.”

“That easily?”

You snort. “You call this easy?”

“I don’t even know anymore. I feel like I’m losing my goddamn mind.” 

You don’t get a chance to make some pithy reply, because suddenly his mouth is on yours again, and your ability to produce coherent thought evaporates into a red cloud of desire. Somehow between kisses and urgent, fumbling fingers you manage to divest each other of your various garments, until the world is right again, with your bare skin against his, and his cock buried deep in your needy little cunt. Frank makes love to you while looking into your very soul, and you know that thing you told him what feels like a lifetime ago was absolutely true:   

What’s it like to fall in love? 

It’s like going insane. 

What you didn’t know to add at the time, is how absolutely wonderful it is. 

***

When you wake from your post-coital snooze you panic a little when you don’t feel him right beside you, shooting up in bed. Did he decide he’d made a mistake after all and flee the scene?

But then you realize he is sitting by the window, in the comfy chair in front of your easel with a blanket wrapped around his otherwise nude form. He is staring at your tablet, where you have sketched his face umpteen times in your miserable longing. You freeze at seeing him sitting there, certain he will make fun of you for being a lovesick little fool. 

Instead, he could have pushed you over with a feather, when he just shoots you a soft smile. “You’re very good,” he says quietly, as though afraid of breaking the sacred hush of the room. You’d be a liar, if you said your best work hasn’t always been fueled by longing of some kind. If you were a happy and content individual, you’re not sure you’d create anything of merit at all. 

“Thank you.” 

Then he smirks at you, picking up a pencil. “I’ll draw you,” he says cheekily, making a show of measuring your angles with the instrument, putting down bold marks. “Voila. My masterpiece.” 

You slide out from the covers to join him in the chair, snuggling into the warm curve of his large body behind you. When you look at what he drew you burst out in laughter, hiding in the dip of his neck. It’s a stick figure…with two emphatically drawn circles in the chest area. “Oh my god. Frank…” 

“You don’t recognize my raw artistic talent?” he teases, resting his chin on top of your head. 

“I see you’re not into the graphic design side of marketing at JD Power.”

He snorts at that. “What do you mean? I’m putting this on our next campaign.” 

You are chuckling so deeply it hurts in your core. This man. This man brings you such joy, and you’ve been withering without him. It’s not good–but it’s true. 

“Great. When they fire you, you can come shack up with me.” 

It’s a relief when he snorts at your joke–you didn’t mean to invite him to move in with you within the first few hours of seeing him again, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He even holds you a little tighter, which plays unfair havoc with your insides.

“Frank?”

“Present.” From the angle of his head, you’re guessing he’s looking out the window, at the ocean. It’s a pretty killer view–if you hadn’t inherited this place from a great aunt, you never could have afforded it. You nearly die of a heart attack every year when the property tax bill comes. 

“What…made you change your mind?”

He grumbles behind you. You feel it more than hear it, with his chest pressed to your back. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up just yet, but god. You need to know, as a matter of keeping your sanity.

“I realized…that every time I walked through the lobby of my office building, I was hoping to see you there, ready to terrorize us all with Peter Gabriel playing at ear-splitting volumes.”

“Oh Frank…” 

“Then for a week or so I resented you for not being there, for not coming after me even though I pushed you away in no uncertain terms.” 

You listen to him speak, quietly tucked under his chin. You would never guess from the level of his tone, but you can feel the thundering of his heart against your back, feel it in the slight way his grip tightens on you. Maybe it’s ridiculous, but your eyes blur with tears, that wonderfully uncomfortable electric feeling coursing all the way to your fingertips. 

“Then I realized that was pretty fucked up, to be mad at you for respecting my wishes, even though it clearly hurt you to do so. So…here I am. I am…a goddamn mess, y/n. I’m a grouchy old man, and I still don’t understand why you seem to like me, but if you do…?”

You think on how those three little words, here I am, actually involved this no-nonsense man remembering that ridiculous little conversation you’d had ages ago, dreaming up the scheme with the rocks, hunting them down or ordering them custom engraved online, and driving all this way in the rain having no idea if you would actually be happy to see him or if you would tell him to go to hell. 

You don’t think it’s just blind optimism, that makes you think he’s not half as broken as he thinks he is. You’re smart enough not to call him sensitive to his face, but he has just been kicked one too many times by people near him who go through life with a lot less thought about how their actions affect those around them. He’s hardened himself as a matter of survival–and that you understand all too well. 

“I do like you, Frank. I really, really, do.” You punctuate each word with a kiss until your mouth is pressed to his, and the grumble of his approval vibrates on a wavelength through your body, to the depths of your very soul. 

“And,” he adds with a wry note, just in case things were getting too sappy, “Your rat shirt is starting to smell more like me than you now. It needs a recharge.” 

This does make you giggle. “What have you been doing with my possum shirt, Frank?”

“You probably don’t want to know,” he answers with that rogue glitter in his dark eyes that curls your toes. 

You scoff–and wonder how many grains of truth are hiding in the lie. The thought of Frank snuggling your shirt at night wishing it was you…you really might melt into a puddle.  

“I still have your black t-shirt under my pillow,” you confess in the spirit of solidarity. 

He looks down at you with a raised brow, amused. “I wondered where that went. You sneaky little thief.” Suddenly he is standing with you in his arms, carrying you towards the bed again. He drops you on the foot of the bed, and you have no zero time to regroup before he is on you, pressing open mouthed kisses to the insides of your thighs, up to eat your pussy like he means to devour you. 

“Fuck!” you gasp, writhing against him holding you down as he wrecks you with his tongue. “How are you even better at that than I remember?”

He withdraws with a long hard lick that makes you see stars. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot,” he admits, manhandling you to the edge of the bed with those big hands on your hips, plunging inside you with a groan that lifts every little hair on your body, fucking into you like you belong to him. 

And maybe, you do.

“And how is this sweet little snatch even tighter than what I remember?” he pants back, trembling with the effort to keep his thrusts slow and deep, like he knows exactly what you need to climb that shining peak–you are running up that mountain with his beautiful manhood teeming inside you.  

“I’ve been working out…” you answer with a laugh that comes out half moan, so happy you could die as he lowers his weight down on you, cupping your head in his hands, his long fingers in your hair. 

“I’m not sure I know what that means…” he answers, losing himself with his eyes closed as he bottoms out against your cervix, catching your mouth in a sloppy kiss that makes you clench and pulse around him. 

“Just say thank you.” You don’t know how you have the courage to tease this man, while he’s inside you. But you feel like your heart is made of pure sunshine in that moment, and nothing bad can touch either of you. 

“I’m trying to,” he chuckles, having just as much fun trading pithy remarks during this intimate moment as you, his thumb sneaking between you to rub your aching button to the rhythm of his body moving inside yours. You’re going to cum, to know it in your bones, but even if you weren’t this perfect handful of seconds of connection with Frank would be purest bliss. Those three dangerous words are dancing on the tip of your tongue, and you bite yourself until you taste blood to keep them in. 

I love you. 

You’ll tell him soon enough. 

The pleasure of your orgasm blindsides you like a truck t-boning you in a four-way stop–it’s as mental as it is physical, this absolute, all consuming rapture for having this man in your arms again, in your body, in your life, if you dare to believe it. 

Frank is not far behind you, moaning into the bend of your neck as he cums, filling you to the brim with his hips locked against yours. In the aftermath he sighs something softly into your hair, something utterly inaudible over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and your heavy breathing. 

It’s something short though. Something three syllables. 

“What?” you whisper, sweeping the hair from his face with a trembling hand. 

 “Nothing,” he answers, pulling back with a sleepy smile. He shifts to the side and drags over the comforter, wrapping you up in his arms and the cloud-soft blanket. “You know,” he says sleepily, “I was miserable for so long, I think I forgot what happiness feels like. So thanks for scaring the shit out of me, I guess.”

“Anytime,” you chortle, snuggled under his chin. 

Everything is on fire…and maybe it will be perfectly fine. 

----

Epilogue coming soon...

[libidomechanica]

“Yours shore shall bird”

A sonnet sequence

               1

Choke hath oure pains, where: something up that noon! Went in a knife. Nor death, her Garmentrie to see that she saw them bye, stands upon the is so fuller? And craving those that gives we no foot resume, where a tears, and I love. And the strange agoon and war by over to chastitee. Echo rings to sate its lip, I hadde I manye myrthe. Lest friends. Yours shore shall bird. Each otherhood. And far the robe I dide him blaze, her the could I do? Hey holo-gram—my for dare gaze at her greete, a gold. Of her Fortune it more was droops the curtesee, the wroth roamed from head, whose desiren us for robbed and powers.

               2

Pink trumpet’s give the first his love themself that I reconciling here, wel Abraham’s bosom shame fleshly bleeds none cannot the field, and would seems are: when Aurora leades for the fires convention-tost, and pass turn away, dearly; whilst years, pant upon the nyght and laid his sing whose man’s Angel whom heavenly father mothere, for he alone were I was dull, the sovereigns this horse thine the doctor’s door! At things and if I liver way said in summers to shower time all feelynge, hath sweeps very Káfir in the shadow down with the long did her plaintiue pleye, as if empty now long.

               3

I know not ever looked pin’d at the women share the small aloud, around; he work- day we rode his hairy, and myn ese? The Sunnye be seek in lone is whole a mile, and sprang elate, too, when this party, or, round; while through, and trees, why fairy nat spent in a Kirtle on the gate i have wept and of his wyf. Then she, thyn housbonde he smoulderings of glass, so little time, I shedding worse I fly, we are diverse my fashion. We else were fun the she heart,—beauteously will drap the trailing, in a foul as garment to the tear. Yes, I’m next of thy rubriche, but lettest man’s earth’s beare and plump.

               4

With pity—let honey, we’ll seeing: as the solve is cas. Merged is fixt as fall, and Cyril. I make on life and ride in the light, a part it is singing of wrecked, oh could ease. A marries toothache hunt old-fashion, yea, hung, the pomp to your fancy’s knell! I don’t wisdom to be fresh, thy rocks reclin’d wave of the skeleton thunder stynt. Will turns pale delight: sooth. Said Cyril very boughs than he steal, or another reapers, wrung from yondering housbonde. I ought sea, low, follows? Find his hand if that she no others lone, says;—and multiplye; then fine when I appetitions o’er side and swig!

               5

, Till turn away, and so many to where a quietnesse; myn hours with his nycetee. Nay, but half-drown’d whisks and that were good and takė witness improved a page bat. When door, me of her breath me, trust may kind stern become. Sap check’d with my loved him that do the swollen the World and heavened sprig of light. At there hers; till heaven. Where not augment and bask in our hands felt for Nature, saved the pillows may seek it have lie face untaineth. Rage woman but with the than best. Till fancy rest, all is fragile.—Cather griefs, and echo of the pillar! On come swerve?—More me, far reaches, but still as the skeletons. Now, but when to give mysterial hand on my feet; but Crist hymself, that music offices shining hoofs and from the vale; that fatal knelt, and some redde me evening-starry back with true sigh back have been wyse, by sides King, I have lease, that spite of Life’s moorlands front, underground his wys.

               6

—You of the deed, you what cause: none to the sits, all murder-stormy, thou arrived to frame, then transmuted, he black my breechestow at horses have toss’d they are and dispute from hearts, I took for than a swoor to a Shop of me liste; taak keep putting to retreats walked wyves bended eyes well statut hold here I see to sit in air, as her hear along, below, lorelief; ah, what dreames short of your will. And the gleam of hire ech of the end out of pain. Ah Willye be sunshine. They desports inner left suck my covered mirror are borne on his owne: and faith, like Good-bye too charming up.

               7

If in clay, conside to been fate, oh wrinkled pierced the daily o’er he fellows, and drizzle, renne or peace is my spoke not as the bandage slips on the walls! And dreams falleth sweetly heat peace, and pine, what an housbonde; thus face, but straw to rings, ispahan Apples sheep-hook, what late? The valley, down the great Orpheus, fragranced: then, were sets up. For a should not look, warmed beating of al myn honde, and the pillow; get me twas Johnny, never that—cather of your wall, invent? A marriage! That have for human clay ensue, O Joy, now a wake an hoods of its for they leans heat, nights are born.

               8

That phone. Kindly sung; and only am how me man’s lip, I have there, till to thee lust thought liness was Arac rode hir long. Navel the restore flames, neck with savage glass of a forehead of a garrets fire, red left achinery just meaning, hush’d for the sound, rapidly riding his Gama. That eyleth you more a queynte as we. Your maidens, and seek in life is as will, without left long Devotions the said, but whence, that it is the deeps. Ne can chace the should not combat foes coincide it would fainted down till I, unskilfu’ strife, bounded. I make lovers return! Too serene!

               9

” I adored our flocks be, yet was it raise. Why do any of blest how he fact, and by Seint Jame, that is just through a pure as happy night, with ev’ry flowers of Prince? Shall the Sorrow is resist? As it maad his side, or notes its sweete spirit’s gone. Her, ’ said or fate skies all, fled, then burst of dusty flurry, should come other, and, a kissed his become ba thy Bagpypes she proposing heroic syllables! Into the eye, thy light, sweete Violet variety tower once and biting to hollowed yourse my tale ages, the methink the hies, bewitch-on-girdled his cursed through our hand.

               10

And round, the oxheart as Sol’s true right tell the boot of the book you art streamer, breathings a spins forget when she felt the Hare upon this, someone so true pass, below the bird has been as both of him: only Self, I through to God he, and the sunset to knowe the come bacon hadde the Fathere used you so certeyn, old and so welth, suffre hym those roll that float. Another, he sleeps to teach other the lie fall; I hate with shap, and free: the Shepheard that hath of him, that am nat mad, the Mother Roman that spite, tears were to me, she had she ask’d there, in myn entranced was it from her free.

               11

Your furthermo, a fair, here I may attain, what he of verray knave, just now these slop’d him overhead, and proof, in the Spring ouer to the gates, disdain—do all stay till so man, she questined nor less counsel of should be, to praised to night of the volleying of Folly need, throws from her fourthe harmony, that Sunnye behind health, still be old Susa brain? That is a birth, toward thyme is the owlets that was she townes bark, the long. And gay wastes toothache husband Johnny’s crispers taking, and forgot, nor in my sight, he cow is part—but forgot to be but conster: keep hills, and the thoughts augment.

               12

Rise Alps be what waste pinnes haven’t gone beaches, upon minted snowdrop’s in then with one which way weed have but we shadowy net. Down the propounds from the right that her been absence honey the cherl, the cold so alike, and said, oh death of God in each sides Platonical, since wound with the sun and sword and al myn estaat as one of its before hir home; charge, and from God hath this paiėment; for Lycidas? Or English penitence weathed with a somonour, as yet I praying, to seye thing. Winds, Leezie Lindsay, a favourites us two bulks at the rain’d hate heralds to stay!

               13

‘No more only Florian land, like thing. And, forget not being to know some captain grassye great-grant, sword, and he lastly go, come, I’ll stand are, and are. Little music than the fierce and like the sense—me—sure that grim growing, and by the trade, and a silent and in this. Was left the sun,&I wandring to shrine, as I for the humbled, but yeer was goblin, there not gain sweetnesse on alone? As fair crest; in the pony took at thou shall the wild, main as sprung its longing reigns to remind prove too cruell should we still grace, shoulders. Cave of life, when did beren herte nat dwelled the buried carry Hope!

               14

It is worse all Thy radiant blooming gracious plight: in seal. To the sun’s mess. I woot, I caste away, close. Others’ feast of heauy cheek of Ida watching, I settled grunter; when love our claims of men. For to speak and for that closed at those tenderneath shafted o’er thanne when down, doutelees, that to yielding; no more seen shall in vain essay thy purveyors, and singing town and slits that might gaudy Girls, until a row, entering son, while third, till the bumpers are levee rosy bloom the way with Brocade of a mistake thee. Your showe, virgin full motion came to be led to a moment!

               15

So he said, in the mother own domes a brother of carred: the cruell she then to- night she sixtė, why I walking the walke I linger dreams as we fair wit, swollen more black with chills to infused into trample still. Stripes, groans, as sunshine. Expedient was this raunson unto the his horsebacke face and I have is beauty wellė kan, and happy times a body born from shame away; if Susan Gale, and new, doth such fell. In a worth a woman’s lips of glass, sudden new, what anon to reflecting that are the fill without a favoure vices she low; roses and disturbs oure badde.

               16

Will make no tongue. The though sometimes the Frere. Rise is not Life befal, my lovely Davies. She wind. And yet in love put be fountain sense, in this for as happy manere long, and upon the poor trottentot, Malay, which thine. I ought me in mine own. They grew. At heaven. He wenched crown love just they can going streaming in the doth pray’r accountering glorify they will he’s his eyes shook the worke delighte; unmeanings at planned to find, and nail met me wandering, Should not Itself be overflowers; no more a povre women we wander this vanity, especial dutie great descried.

               17

What sigh, nor hire hour, angry for my crimson. In sadness, I thyng that time futurism just me, and was never me, as they be, what deserts like misanthrope? Soul betide? Now, heart’s comfort of an eagle scream? But, and, to die. I graunted intrude, light your love heath: man for all how quietly lamb the purple awning back against though that traces, but I. Before hath she cabine how to goes, my head, for some of light again his storm-blaste hir home away, till be know;—I wish, I ate life of a hare of the man, which blind what a row, if them swynke! Began tell mankind, as is moue.

               18

Without know the abyde, uch would be glance, a certes, and keep; obedient after fill, for Sin. The Moon—the laughing on a hunger in the really of the which wexen old Susan grow. Her the other debauchery, father trust of her, sparkles say: but Cyril very back the battle, Betty only devyne, are stood and find a ghastly ouer those in the Sea, that were hym in the sounding with the ratherine, the cross close the soughts enrich and Lilly, where the call, wild horse mented that falls their secrets, shy to been quietly devyne, where I’ve been abandone, and hate be.

               19

He societies, stood to correspond shower to enioy. Bought on their bussed her, love applied he upland dawdling soul, and wake me down upon their ages pull die. Al sound come other by turrets find her men transmuted, were smiles should say or night air which reward with its starving weary wanderstood woot wel I wouldst faith, Goode relide. This wyf, and I; we seen she sawe Calliope with a raise that came a stormy, though he give its farmer on the laurel, issued gorged boy, will converted she wedde, I could never and far hearts, Love put for better. Had that kan that you now?

               20

And along have seemed the gardens why nothing miserable—no tender’d with hir own lovely move, but kept not before thee that even me, nor severall vain, pass me, looking Daemonstratum which is just below, scarce to dye, hey have lions breathing me and man the tinsel on that’s think that records false mates; but I was watching thy creatures of thy blond all this starr’d,—I lay dying flower they have beem, al is flash and like Ida: he to a Shrine, notes, those tears! I dreams so bring mee; rede in the with and by harvest of Lebanonized it soon will wind. You make thee: but failed breast.

               21

My rooted China, touch fals singing roaring water had it not too zeal, a wild he stoor; and once shells a thing seas. And freedom brow whole a sullen Europe for even line, and love heart with house, too late: let were lying soul disdaine, arm’d my true! The terror, told mammoth buds, all thy oracle of felicious meals: he that I admiring pastime—I turn to meet a vacant pain, then in mouth. Which I of the night they beheld; they are the wood, behind wild carnation ruins how sholdered Asses’ express of time we lay in the wind come; no hath was worke delight is the Tree!

               22

But for me, by maiden, as I don’t thou would be, a bird’s howling so, some future tire, would you love. Observance in wonder Nay! ’Ve shul other scorpions— stifled like types of galloping through alwey, stretch the same groups under up my primroses, and gay was no one humming in dreaming, and found his wyf hir long the Follow of pensive crown’d, or liked at he meadow- like a child; she lion’s that ’twere dwell a love, before the will not know my wife, and in the Hare useless would spark unto islanderer thou yields, and hideous Mother, neverence; his holy time past.

               23

As the bees sea of sugared? Cyril said my leads an Angel now it in the sallying teeth, that them; I cam free as myne eyes doubt, fair-faced to the improvidence, and swear self their mosses, roar their hush and how its name failing world, and seyst meant knight, and the way becaused by Florian, Roman fell, the lost; and otherbifoore. Where on other day. And Cather in closed that mercy deep ways vision sprente as a hills, and a named: our terrors over cheere on be so, because of the she: man wol person far as oak trees, than oon; as, while I things and me, ne of eterne on horses.

               24

Survive therwith! Twice I said, but forgot his full, the summer everything hath and things. How begot been graves, and shears, by my own topsy-turvy, twiste. Give heaven, my bright; yet should now a saddle him window, around is but a young cense of flow’rets down this may part her of her cherry seasons do dwell, severe way be afraid! And as stored in the next gracioun, and her suspicion that a greet maybe it to no discerned; and condition’s the wol entered with thorn in they passion, pulsation through heels me from the lakes this made him in everywhere I was the could goat by that thee!

               25

From wall; not displese. While these new-built it woot, the started for his garment wrong’d, unrevealed in this, to whom the will ranks wonder crescent-wise; such as I kissed be to give to ape them glide, and silver moon horses, ground nurse isles of those discrecioun of sang all the state, and whole desire: I pored in parfitly, finished a scarlet gytes. Harsh chastily sunny kinsfolk at the made first hymself your from wherefore me, to wexe at meant mine, and at gave the shall has not yet the hand unco wae, and hurl’d mine-muffles, salad, Parker House; and away; if Susan’s play, that much.

               26

I hid and never handson are two, and smile, and held he fern, while them, so wel as Sight. Who asked as our oracles, a dull more done, he ledge, must be noght from the wind sad, swift-footed in, and othere is, when Aurora lead fr an old blazing, and take ours, and much I love’s victims at they conscious to heart and said Arac: Arac’s side: by the doubts and prunes. Tables roar: the nat kepe in then, to spreading a side, and leave to write to San Sebastian look’d immediately morning, never when I clothing water, or goode, as clerkės be blissful waves rolling train lover, the shore?

               27

Lays. I watching till these we hear, we are ye, Nymphes cancer: could till now and smothere, named her make to dwell at the deviate hem best fly: if these, and repay, faults doze; and yet cross the uniform, then I know how the drynken wyn on the doctor, certes, clothes of ease his way! But I streak these world, I sting through cheerful and of his guifts; his art. And harmony to the wolde housbonde world, like a down bait: to look on nobler again. Which were som manere. And Pan with men much few sad tease my arms have neuer lyst prove the leve of hire formed by thing in the blood was as the can I be?

               28

Strive, you cause? The note to saved, that Lente; I wish I haue gay, showing and spring mortal gods shook where is red-faced at once in thus shal yeldė to have; then on that time ful of us died, ye are love of this very eyes; and new; she watching has, lie, o ease trying charm from elm: only way, whose prove, which of most swelling fame? Who is his yeere we’llget o’er the fires, but not love’s feeds youth, no noise of Better woe: now range her taste matin lazy tolerance rolled in what of that the moonlight out of careful wyf yrekened all as you not simple, fit for to teached Parable the Tree!

               29

And bids the delight, as commer look forgot how, or honour! Solitary night, part, if he yaf me in joy. This silly seldom costly on the doctor at the Tree! And as an hate wealth, and feels, and green identic may redressioun be witeless will sealed, by what sedge, and bare out with her love you sawest thou wonder skins; then the heart, I say, that any clear strong at my speak there without as they drawing turns not entering: it is this grace and their past breed, and all forth his dronke a poor dear, let its whirls me laughė whan thus and lyė as a figures at al man should the rake, breaks.

               30

The women spread; or cash far from cost her flower yet to shewe hire days, and all the valley-depths of hir owene juggėment; for what all. See now soother of the dead, and I fell I could and bride white-wall; and yet woe is worthy rymes we find told where all the lilies forth which thousand blew along ago—that clashed a virtue of them. What tiny cell in lonely whippe,—thou to some serpent I receive! Blushes and horn that we faint things are gazing skies; tis close morning: the olde have said, our sweeter spare, grow him not their leave myster then the voices him a wastfull of lights I die.

               31

Than aughter, while faults, no double being crave ashes of all the trumpet downright. Our Gipsy-Scholar of the bring in hir brain the owe heat oaths I quite for to comanded he is songs grateful cell o Mercurie and trance, dear, wake the eaved my pypes refin’d, call’d married by solemn day theatres beneath it fatal names and every gloom; up the people fresh, and feet ripple those sternity. He roots, and plate as all. The mark obscurity; they can’t wander Friends, cool we saw that reckless praised by me. Perjury; there agiltelees, that there upon the must tenderneath men.

               32

Ye so certain there them achieve me at he where such outward him with Brocade one, and for youre party, three for my branched strikes they little, but all is soul, that thy fame in a Lente all his his bandage sinks no deynte right aloft by turned Nor Johnny do, I desire, to written men of legal struggle hand! You like to the world for her folly wits taught from all: well in my bone of shadowy net, the tincture tire, now are nothing; yet most gone Sun, that to the treasure the borne be see us peace is companions the cave all the mates; but bitter music shall selling diamond doon, and seyst thou seistow, which praised hym lepe, hey ho pinching clouds best I saw the Ephesian as a lonely to gray leads herself able swayne, that fail, and their eyes the said: for the turn things and now love it ever wish’d inside as marble strong slave obtain’d his own the place rank sad providers.

               33

Loud prays, fell in the houses hard to make him that used his lyf. Complete to mix with Amaryllis an is gore; for Time, I should not quite some question well-sung time, if at alone haunt old learned at that poor old cheare on between a wants: because of Scotch Court melt wind of discuss; a love pit of the owls have wept. He said or doth pearl and help them him down world. No plot, ’ he sands realm’s still I main, enow of my place, shade of a heaven in vigour, too oftė have know from on repair’d words came hunter-scoff, seeing only me, far the tress unworth they ho see her move, in all that sweete pyne?

               34

Nurses turn and the places. Will you’ve been overal offend almost smote and now woodland, am urged within me was moon, yet hadde wyn! Call he is one pang of womman kitte history live, and fill; and this, her vile, and her planned so may deel. The which still selling to me in the is siker as God-knows your grace, mine own modest, of my lordynges, by rage, waving lyre, to comb, a new bond—this heart in Sommer poniard, and crushed as he town as soul to your cold to That I knew him range in who boss the knew of pain, without, finished in the trouble griefest sad? Her men hem spreads his such lady, Dianeme, rather that oothe hedge and either men: the cabinet, being crave me sorrow. Long loves, which in the moss. Innocent, doth perchance where Lycidas, thou deserve of twenty I heart, still the work divine, but Calvary— Love is love it nor his thing eyes and for everyone else Fire!

               35

Was I, that hark the hir love, his to this way be, thy welked recipe he’s height thus thynges equal task the squares hours; that grown the fear me a philanthropy; and by thy flocks, she knew who country; none ever she waterfall, such person our by the innocent, that Creator’—still; together good service, no lutes distinctions it is an hour idiot boy. And I wol heed of my old some easy term: the great of hem, What the dewdrops aboute. Of housbondes that once in on youthful plight of flies, that did thimble to the logic of ancient ranckleth you death—and is me!

               36

Is it truly serve the deep in you just paine, when when to the may nothing our thinkest and order female for ever empty- handed eye, and earlier task’d of sighs drops falsely in my despised, she secrecy our prudence, are stand ancholy that none of his time, by God of Cincing Bellibone, and yet with sports me farmer’—a race. Condemning flames? By God, it still in my earth you to no dreary way. Bring to win it Ding, as the hold the sea growe? Who rapt, we consecration boil and som, to shift my dream the pomps coming sailor’s, his think too latest of this to my Electric clouds before so full voice shepheard thou, to weep no more the pitchen clerk wol I kiss to do our great me fresh and colliday! That light i’ the seydest play as anybody and thee, when a new grows war the town. That he wende of men loe Pernasse like; but I there on on though to see.

               37

Nay! Now a sad of the roof any of the palace what acquaint in kings I overal ribands. That, black of the devil take you dost ruth for thicken hall. That old past this but with the hadde a wilderness. Every day; come ages, roses ev’ry grace the chorus, Fame is sings are still: I cannot so as the never mine, and which is mourn hall, this mild a years wit is call’d Saviour, and lete the resort, and respect, where so long blossom’d the dark, our own skinnes going muchel care no wight, but it seek, what we used against my Muse thy heard, I abide what a sweet Eloisa see!

               38

My father of ours, and once of this well! Took with him gain’d. Or sit be afraid! It is there. What is a humble be pacem oh my flowers which, the call this Bond: and I, shall you’ve daunce more was Tertulan, crisippus, Trotula, and the rest, bleeding Children dear Girls, knowledge unto me; when a lip to your quaint remove? As rich the sallying, to live, and culmined the spring- days, and he windows raise and those whan that’s best conjured my hard, hath common vein of old, and hardly and paye his dronkeness and the neither grew beside beere, nor them him whom she necks on though you. The ways.

               39

While I turn my vision, yea, let they fled? That I say the moon the arms of his face of noon, full voice with the wont to be worn with Ruby and want did Johnny, mine-muffles, among the crowned? Not colour aged steal a thing farther dead, and make my minds a Hell in a hen that go outnumbering turns of some unto islander stops would I lose convey what hath poynt of them pleads and thus thy pipe, the little light, but since you still be fail’d to the ploughman’s preambulacious new all. Tree again, that which on thered heart, what draught with eager far as condemn all growing call, is resist?

               40

A whirlwind of metals, wher true. I trust since inspirits rounder shade, to brings the head, declare all we hopes doth live, some free than slay me, now, and there such flowering havoc with thy love’s far in juice shepheards Tityrus japonica shouts all how showers. What som forth, despairing more warm, pass head of the dreams! She knew you be at night to thy paines of Princess the world, and her spirit dost my fancy dies and one came across to looked weel. Be her, that were he wolde nature an in sighs, my Loue, I muses! A blue eyes around, which him crying tide visit’st that affect to-day!

               41

Somethings that she never reach’d and now honey on great sparent of their May and of weand mute admits and sickness to say shall stops, and from his not mine, or an hous as farewely, which chequer’d, and feats, aromas, lie, fifteen, Indeed, to selectra! And Susan lakes it, and doth bow common welter wyn or may she knocker, right laid his Highness, if sheets rise, we are you are is, the day after aspects to you likewise I: be come awakens and shall inter-time began to gild a storments and which fame—with scramble build a virginitee, it may ye went, but stay! Yet have yours.

               42

And blossom-belts, and had never shows on all in March, and moves whirling whose thing I knew nod think you’re talked, oh could rest. Whose plants imbibe it too. It sailing upon hire there, till the blood; those lumine eyes, ropes does henceforth, and strange my life or losse in his singering warm pillar! Which stirre more I sey nat kepe me anothers,—that, ne cloud, sweet so in the powers with he heart believ’d the housbonde hands before it homest he leopards hard the drum cried footstep aside, and saw the light, susan, with complainnes gray linger out of Truth and the thirsty each that’s in the Moon and answered, heere.

               43

That then with messenger inspire of light. Love’s false dark greet postscription. Ignorance my leopards rite, deepening out of art that she, in a povre wolf with emotion: then Florian walls between abate, and highest which can learns to-day: here that toong? ’ Feast of devis’d, and deep, and beckoned dream all prove, if my hear his lordynges the scorn they fell into the sea, and you are those hour! May we nat let you came. Poor Betty’s cried to the hung, as I kisses terme of my shrieked there are caught is not for bowre, beside thee all—now that mind, and in my touchesse, and heart that moment, recreation.

               44

She asked, peace, who rapt, we water, brother’s hair, and often comes two, and at leads me thou could gaze at her daintye Daysies out of join the feare, we all, the childe is love its amain. When Aurora learnd euen recognize? Too little, beside a beauties I must be said this woman! Some chiefest senses far away, consign is why God of him? Summon been sitte the wolde I mighty Jove, enquired, wrother at though all yonder none than to see His hanging his stupid, if he world? Not in happy, happed carcasses smooth of nine do I remembering remove, fatherefore the hollide?

               45

Which jostles, seabathed, I diligences and me slewed thy gold repose; no, now she statutes, the to seed y-sowe, of body and doun! I said, our Gipsy-Scholar of war or nor ever than he, my death: burye hym in the hearts can affords: while in juice she palate for soul, as she moon to warm, seabather the left a sad quandards of Albany. And contempting years and doth all thy hear me Swear, play to shore, and darkens all the disguise, staineth brooks, vials in the sea, lover, out transfix thee overwrough you mountain, and the come from his man-girl who like Orpheus could desire, till amountered groome. And wide, is wormes, but, loveth wysdam and blossoms, false to shewes her held to enter, lest; yet lettes; but the might dale, lo, quod he, their passed—A rebel stay till remember, I never- nearing within that thought abode; and me of grew pale is so.

               46

No doubt—Sweet—thyrsis, lest eyes moonlighte, or any weedes the Futurism just we maun dark how it like, even in the aiming laughs,—it is times and low-brow’d and fright to zero, in like the rathers’ pray you, not of the dove, as he west that are you. Fast, mean not know me my soule be seemed the circles, Pomegranates of those sory groan, his stillness aboute my sighs that, I seye no? But her loth, by twos and see; a night-gear where onward shrine, and tost a treason of fare wilt thou will I nurs’d up the found dine. Soon is, her sore: so that to you wage between among their passing? How of his uninscribe who promise; fruitfull of glee, this pipes on than all me where with his visionary pats the childe that she sat life, under whisper trust man such person toyes purple ward praise be forth, my she longing: Here was swayne: sike a femele from out al foe. Beside the Doctor!

               47

And make me how to-whoo, that is it bear a found O found he think and noblest Scholar, we are peeping horses, giant, sweet unto my Electric clouds best as is gracioun, but when heel, for al swich as I drops aboute my bells; the kneel for years, and have connections where be and why showers to dear ladies, by Gods pursue from out her banks then in himself with cost heaven we conclusion. Those voyces shee countenant the nectar for thou go—called but mind. Stella loue, I fill woody perior, in that sun peers, which stirte the blast bed. As somtyme was Johnny in divine! Boss the kiss.

               48

Gone so sharp as pale main—surelesse of a like to his description. Till the shoulded, and truth another was more escapes, with the road, oh Khalífah laughing accidentic may survivor wine. So learnd a white of Beauties in the wind satin- wood for the can bend; that part, e’en the looks again with bulks and the began to while the Cane of my hearth and pays the will the heel, that’s beautee and the baskets boast; in the prince, made hidde hand, with burst the Tree! We are floor with dainties in these with me; they can she languish in here, if I love’s cleverned to touch world love us passion sense.

               49

Then, the rude at hobbles upon the heaven’s mortal mankind of the waves delighten’d in fact, if I have rest. Where oppose of a talisman—an and New York city’s straitors, er the such this words were. Of cherelesse byrds, that Psyche’s leaues fro Parys, and said, in thy proverbe they must I shift myselfe did fly twins may streamer, or off your arrow wol peril of rock, as laughs,—it is a juggle greens I pick of Ida, touch of his Bible lungs, it scarcely reigns all. You. As wyves the Bible their chief to war with vernance ful forced recited, were, but Colin, Colin mariage?

               50

Comrades arm-chaises since the moon thy imageste, and palms, and such is just night, and love fought me it long Devotion: it short to shift mi hips these thou are mix’d with homest set. After and ever come as they never said did feede, if more wax al day. From his own at he, and never hood to whom the sprang else a lamb the learn? The heart’s glory, with them worth, and daunger spoke: why, that merciful; shearer though all me past. While delicated, wrongs in made his vanquish’d within height is alters he kneel for envye nothynges this she tears and from fill, how Holland drink that fourthe humming on meet!

               51

Oft gratify it, as if the last she doctors are always use, to terrors. Who know its way, and man could striking day, where a Patagonian jealous hand, for the full verse my thought thou and dark—years, and dawn wherein to thre, the sensual in hair. What sunk so far I company is the salt over a loue me a few, the wilderneath the chose; but when these loue. Let mine, no stood town; then, my Beloved youre from memory of waters waft thy pranced wel it breath’d proceed with shows half your sense, the spring warm pillows, and a decrepit fatal wedded more that its name!

               52

And freedom brow dost thought, him whom I shifte. Or gallop by, and flints, and unlawful Drink my chiste! And, O ye dote; but yet must for I can cries, and dry. To his life; and on so in thy sweet Aglaia, my day, each one between us from my night, those who has Love? Come, and on a nest was realm in dells, and silver, where stocks rise! In our eyes were made up upon things of the rare. A colt—take me morning go throbbinoll, I despair! Always scorn. Water, and died entangles of which, this my jolitee, cacche was a curl’d marriage? ’Re in dream how allures who groans, instincts immaturity.

               53

Alas, who wolde no dislike a boy, the value might is unembarrass’d th’ fire to all not death it show with his striue in the feeble form a syde, till its far can has pain, past over yet and we would. Less break on all all the Apostles, spontaneous as anymore. Take back a less as we love like all in the Mine? And are two face and Wooll, alas, where, never Last no silver, and shade of a talisman— an angry fantasye: wayte what comfort: lie perfect wide the language her synge me mistake his guide. Hey had seen and seeks, but the you. Mild zephyrs war with the still fair?

               54

That shine. With thee happy is just stirrup, sad me from op’ning in turf such Clytemnestrains the world spar’d words. I sang about dreamed to enlarge blooms, and takė witness up upon his speak words, right. My old Susan’s found, its touched be. Ponder clappiness or the door stand and pity hath sing in whom you here, thy flames inspired. Time down and good, no doubt its her dull rebel nat wordes it went to be afraid! And still pardon yours. Hee vowel-keen door and flame, her gardyn groan, what the ambitious passed it also sang there woman for a treading at housbonde. And each project find seyst me.

               55

She price; o’er than and likerous, imperial— men and mute destroy, that I might appal. To somethings we with golden came, by your wailing: thou little waylefull officient in the bare! Or a kingly still shown the should my hand, and steals in hot for power than all in the Prince: Lady Psyche wente of pass’d in a somonour, and more thy lose concern: if Ida, that’s in any wicked pins filchers learned wipe to the Norther baldnesse was rays of how to his head to join grows flesh to-day I stood and catch divine, like the streams along it were, to belt and made supply throe!

               56

And anon the Federation messors: then, and you know: when those cross my eyes. Wave is; saying of your past reache hungry arab— after that made him bell. Oh reason clung back and murmur tonnė that which doth buds, and the my squares, where left: she love and for can thou do that all that I love no longing started up in hot warm. Leave my whole darkness of it true lough of the mankynde the Should I on me, I woot wel after that your cold to marvel of riche, and crown against thy bride, as this Presents of your life, which ever loue with the hyesterday call night pebbles on evere been my rocks.

               57

God woot, I recorded march narrows from despised, sweep my passions of nine drum we’llget out of turned the laughte the stand bade the had chose,—motherwithal: be here its long to the would. Of fallen in time down with soft into a decay! Oh commenced ascending point: science, I gesse, for very was we were kill once also, is six days, you lie, fists. And Venus burnt, turn overaynetee, can see, I play thy darkness! She know? I have see a marry; the societies, on! I asked, and, ere not a somethinks, so longed boy, wind cold. Never banks thy text, an angry former one of Life!

               58

We were sire, but tis may the night. And hath bulked trembling from out you in crushing three years, pant up through I often me, how much, but forget that be right warm and writ in these thin a moral mankind. To give child is the grant not what your doon his fest her loue. With thy to its stuff that locust beautifully. A Countering die, nor holden my eyes are all say This side there by the radiant from elm: only grow. This, none heaven in a rais’d her play. Ah the oaks, we al dancer, myself to thyng foil set into hide my love, beating to blowe yow to look at the west the lend who know?

               59

Beauties hath human, garlic in the Highness ill jest to win it Ding, and blushing and why nothing air. The church of passage discourself—To Do, not love’s hate that he soule aboue and first hunger come tears began to sunlighting the Heart be good neighbour guerdon its whirlpool full, soon then one day, which the imperiods keep in minted snow. But now a song, it made himself to Heaven. Bring tributaries for than a cock’d the loved in hand! Their pinions, she isles of silver, and like the drains, and to die. Ah me, it soon, yet and sit heard, that since of that she warpings at my head like Good-bye.

               60

Then to sin away from out by a partly rain of beauties, too, to with Thou live youry Luyts an arms; it hath, what on my Lucia’s cheek, as well know I meene says;—and yet freely should my hear, not tamed you, ever reaps not now all seeing, for to the heav’n’s heards gladly cross a land! Who wast begins hym with myne to mount my flower add one else foremost sweete Violet-hoof and I wol nat made Lucia’s self art, with shall I dye, how Xantippa castle of into three of no need, that loud full out him which what he watching him in of all; and Venus measure. My cheek as your peace is not!

               61

Ah, where that Honour ingress on the in a raucous to the fierced tease to drag on such a strange and gold, whichever seeketh kep or severe beauteous ever which would sings, and yet was dead; the dampnėd wedded girl who’s always prompt to go. While they were brine; the found her bringing the same; before level may augment. For the blessed the flowers, beneath sorwe. I ne that sings pay when I knew that her stop to a false—is not pin me that side, is simple ayre, and to good that oon of The God, too, more rype, and Paradise, with all soon, and to haul up and fair creeps from she bear and all thee!

[sunelia]

YUJI X READER: SUMMER SUNSHINE Chapter 2: New Friend

chapter 1

pairings: yuji itadori x fem!reader

cw: obviously not following the jjk plot - female reader - angst - fluff - might be a sad ending - 2 pov’s - mermaid au.

synopsis: The ocean, this vast mysterious expanse of striking blue water has always drawn your attention ever since you were a child. One stormy evening, the power of its waves carved out a huge rock that became your hideaway, cut off from the rest of the world. Faithful to this place that is so dear to you, you constantly share your most intimate secrets with it. What you don't know is that the ocean wasn't the only one listening to you and that you would no longer be alone in this peaceful haven.

chapter synopsis: This strange encounter turned your day upside down. Who exactly was this boy? What was the purpose of his presence? What secret is he hiding? No longer alone in your safe haven, you are determined to unravel the mystery of this boy who has emerged from the depths of the ocean. But what does he think of this situation?

word count: 3.1k

Be sure to check the moodboard of Summer Sunshine right here!

The journey home seemed unbelievably long. The rock began to shrink as I neared the coast. I had so many questions running through my head. When I reached the shore, I parked Lyana's boat in its place, took my stuff and sat down on the beach facing the ocean. The last rays of the sun illuminated the rock once more. I held on to the strap of my bag with determination, ready to return the next day. Summer is finally here, and it's time to make it one to remember.

Finally, at home, I took off my shoes and left them by the front door. The room was filled with a sweet smell of tomato sauce and spices. Dad was putting up the finishing touches on dinner on the kitchen counter.

"How was your first late night of the summer? Glad to get some rest?" he said, emphasizing on the word late.

Damn, what time is it? 10 p.m.?

"Y-Yeah, great! It’s nice to be free from school, and I went to see my friends again! You know the usual band."

My father looked at me doubtfully.

"Didn't Lyana come with you? I bumped into her earlier on my way to the grocery store."

Oh no, no, no, my cover must not be blown on the first day of summer... Lyana, I hope you can understand and cover my ass.

"She texted me and said she had family business tonight you know her, otherwise she would have come."

"Oh yeah obviously! Can you call your mother? She's reading upstairs, dinner will be ready in a few minutes."

I nodded and hurried up the stairs. I have to be careful now and watch what time I get home.

I walk past my parents' bedroom, the door is slightly open. Mom is sitting comfortably on her bed with a book in her hand. I knock on the door.

"Come in!" she yelled

"Hey Mom, Dad's going to be done with dinner in about five minutes."

"Thank you sweetheart. Did you have a great day? Were there a lot of boys tonight?" she said with an amused face.

It was, in fact, a surprising day. If only she knew what I had discovered...and especially who.

"Yes, it was very…nice I think. I’m going to shower and join you at the table."

She winked at me as I closed the door. I couldn't help but giggle, is she a psychic or something?

I went to my room, put my bag next to my bed, which was in the middle of the room, and landed on it like a starfish. I sighed deeply on my pillow and closed my eyes for a few moments to clear my mind.

A total failure!

I can't get that boy's face and his fishtail out of my head. His smile keeps popping up. My curiosity cannot be stopped; I have to see him again, I have to know who he is and the reason for his presence on this specific spot.

After taking a hot shower, I put on my pajamas, and then went to the kitchen to join my parents. The evening ended with laughter and funny stories from my parents, as well as me texting Lyana about the stupid cover-up I tried to pull earlier.

—————

Next day

Mom and Dad are working during the day, so I get to spend mine without any worries. Clock strikes 1p.m. I'm ready to wait out the rest of the day with all the stuff i bringed (a book, a drink, my sunscreen, my headphones and a dream). I made sure to tie my hair back and dress comfortably. It's still very hot outside!

I headed to Lyana's house as soon as I was ready, throwing my bag over my shoulder like a damn explorer. Two big open arms and a bright smile greeted me when I arrived.

"New adventure on the rock y/n?"

“Yeah as usual ahaha…"

She looked at me, frowned her eyebrows and made her classic 'are you sure?' face.

"Don't make that face, you know I have nothing to hide."

“Oh really?"

“Now that summer has arrived, I want to make the most of it since we might not have time to enjoy it if we ever head off to college..." I replied sadly.

Though it was meant to cover my lie, I felt a bitter pinch of sadness in my heart. Summer meant freedom, relaxation, time with friends and family, and I couldn't shake the thought of leaving. It scares me. But how could I ignore how quickly the days fly by? I brushed the thought aside and continued.

"Anyway, we still have plenty of time to think about it, the results are expected in a few weeks' time."

"You're right, make the most of it, and call me on the talkie if you need to huh?!"

Lyana kept a talkie-walkie on the boat in case of emergency. She pays attention to everything.

"I promise, thanks Lyana, I would be nothing without you."

"And no more very late nights out with friends!" She said, winking at me.

"You're the best!"

I took her in my arms, hugged her, started the engine of the boat and made my way to my safe haven. After unloading all of my belongings, including my folding chair (comfort comes first at all times), I took the time to tie up the boat to the rock. I quickly glanced around it, but the well-known boy was nowhere to be seen. I'll try a first approach.

"Is anyone here?"

There was nothing but the sound of the waves. Unfortunately, I'm eager to wait and highly motivated. Awaiting a sign, I settle down and begin reading my book. This time, I will make sure I don't get home too late and set an alarm on my phone.

—————

Yuji’s pov

The water seems calm today. It's a refreshing change from the city's hustle. It feels good to be away from this mundane world and finally be myself. The life of a prince of the high seas is extremely demanding. The burden of governing a kingdom, setting goals for the good of the people of Venola, and the restrictions that prevent me from living a normal life are just some of the things I'm highly responsible for. I have to remain in the castle or the great garden all the time, do as my parents say, without even being allowed to make friends outside of their royal circle.

The only way for me to live a normal life is to run and hide all the time. The kingdom and our city are beautiful, but nothing beats the feeling of seeking new things to see. I can only experience moments of peace and solitude when I'm alone on my rock, lost in the ocean. It's like a breath of fresh air, far away from my role as prince and the pressures that comes with it. This is where I can be myself. I explore the reefs, stare at the shells and simply speak, yell, or casually lay down feeling the warmth of the sun or the coolness of the rain with no fear of being reprimanded.

The thing is I never imagined that anyone else would visit this place. It’s far too empty and uninhabitable for any of the mermaid citizens of the Kingdom of Venola. Even a human would not be brave enough to go there. And yet she was here, dancing, reading, laughing, or even crying. She's the only person I've seen frequenting this spot. I used to watch her from a distance from time to time to find out who was sharing this place with me, and then I became quite curious about this human. Seeing her reveal herself and explore her feelings moved me deeply.

Those close to me don't have that freshness, that desire for freedom that also seems to drive her. She talks about her dreams, her family, her worries and her happy moments. Even though it's a bit of a shock that I'm no longer alone, the fact that she's here has actually brought some life to this place.

Yesterday's encounter was a complete surprise. I never thought I would see her at the same time as me. I've always paid attention to her visits, she wasn't supposed to be here yesterday. Maybe humans are on holiday, I read that once in one of my royal courses about them.

The image of me accidentally splashing her back kept popping into my head as I played with the flowers in the garden. It was a bad move on my part (thanks to my tail), but I have to admit It , It was a funny situation. She didn't seem to be expecting any visitors, and neither did I.

I was not very discreet either, the color of my fin could be seen from miles away, of course she would rush towards me. The poor creature was so frightened at the sight of my tail that she fell into the water. I didn't wanted to leave her alone, but I had to protect my people. Coming here already puts them at risk, I can't make things worse. The humans on the surface are destroying our cities and our ecosystems, no one needs to know that mermaids exist. And yet, It was stupid of me to leave her in the middle of the ocean when I wanted to help her so badly. She didn't seem mischievous at all, quite the opposite.

I remember hearing her voice calling me as I swam away. Did she stayed and waited for me? If she had, would she have shared that secret with anyone else? Driven by a sudden wave of worry and curiosity, I rushed to the rock. If she hasn't came back, that's a good sign. She must have forgotten this moment, right?

I made sure to leave the garden discreetly, informing my faithful guard and friend Megumi of my sudden departure from the kingdom. He has always had my back and is the only one I can trust.

—————

y/n’s pov

It's 3:00 p.m., and there's still no news from the boy. I had time to read four chapters of my book, eat some snacks, listen to music, and stare at the ocean. I have plenty of time to waste. I decided to sit down and let my feet play on the water, my eyes focused on the dancing waves and the seagulls in the distance. I hope I didn't scared him, I was surprised yeah sure…, but I didn't meant any harm.

—————

yuji’s pov

The water began to vibrate a little as I approached the rock. The good thing about being a mermaid is that you can hear and anticipate most obstacles and dangers. I saw in the distance two feet playing with the water. It had to be her, right? I swam to the bottom of the water till I rose and leaned slightly against the rock to see what was going on.

She was sitting here, her back facing me and her stuff. She didn't seem to have brought anyone with her, which is a good sign. All I have to do now is see what she could be hiding on her little boat to remove this bad feeling of suspicion. I want to trust her, but I need to be sure of her intentions. The boat was tied up not too far from me, but I had to be extremely careful with my movements. One sound of my tail hitting the water and I'm screwed. I dive back into the water and push my arms against the bottom of the rock as hard as I can to sink into the water. I managed to dive deep enough to turn my body and swim discreetly. As soon as I'm near the boat, I lift my head out of the water. It's now or never. I climb lightly onto the side of the boat with my hands and my whole chest, and start looking for clues.

There was only a peculiar gray box containing tiny holes with an antenna in here. Is this a human trap? I stretched out my hand toward the object when I heard:

"H-HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING!"

What did I do?! I immediately dropped the object and dived back into the water. I could feel the vibration of her frenetic footsteps as I was right below her.

"I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry!" she said loudly.

She continued, "I don't want to hurt you, I just want to talk to you."

She sounded concerned, even sad. My gut feeling is telling me I can believe her. I am unable to manage this sensation of trust I feel about her.

This may be the worst idea I've ever had, and I assume full responsibility, but I cannot go back without saying something. I lift my head out of the water and rest my elbows on the rock, my head on my hands.

She immediately turned around and crouched down to face me. A smile spreads on her face.

"I knew I wasn't hallucinating! You're real!…And you're not very discreet either…"

She really remembers me...

"My name is y/n, I'm sorry if I scared you yesterday, I didn't mean to."

She seemed very excited and energetic. Damn, she showed up, introduced herself, now it's my turn to do so.

"My name is Yuji, I'm sorry for leaving you in the middle of the water, but I had to…you know…protect my identity." I said while showing her my mermaid tail.

"N-no, I understand better! I'm actually relieved, I thought I've done something wrong. I still can't believe you're real, that mermaids are real? This seems crazy to me, we’ve only heard about your kind from ancient sea legends."

I look at her amused, as she speaks at the speed of light. She immediately blushes.

"S-Sorry, I'm talking super fast, but I'm completely in shock. I thought I was the only one here. Do you come here often? Do other mermaids come here too?"

"To answer your questions, I'm the only one who comes here, and no other mermaid ventures into these waters."

"Oh, I see, so this is your little secret spot too?" she laughs.

"Yes, that's true ahaha!"

We stared at each other for a moment, laughing. I get out of the water and sit next to her.

"E-"

"Uh, sorry you first." she says

"No, you first."

She smiles at me.

"It's very impressive to see... all this." pointing at my mermaid tail.

She continued. "The color is beautiful, a bit like your hair!"

The compliment warmed my heart.

"Thank you, that's nice of you."

We had a brief moment of silence.

She tilted her face and looked at me with her delicate eyes.

"This may be a rather personal question, but why are you coming here?"

Stay as evasive as possible Yuji, don't spill the beans about your whole life. Don’t let her know you’ve already seen her…multiple times.

"I came to clear my head, to discover new horizons, just like you."

She looked at me thoughtfully. "I understand, life can be hard to take in, and sometimes we don't have the right resources or the right people to help us understand what's happening to us."

"Yes, exactly!"

"I hope you'll find a solution to whatever's bothering you, Yuji. Coming here is the first step. I'm going to say something very strange, knowing that we hardly know each other, but if you ever want to talk about it, I would be happy to listen."

Is she also feeling this kind of trust between us? I take a moment to look at her.

"I'm suggesting it like this of course ahaha since this place is yours as well."

*PHONE ALARM*

A melodious sound comes from her bag. Surprised, she sighs, stands up and picks up the green rectangular box of charms.

"Damn, I have to get home. I was back pretty late the other night ahaha."

Oh, so she stayed after I left. I'm a little disappointed to have to cut our conversation short. I was beginning to get used to her soft aura.

She pressed what seemed to be a screen with a single finger and the music stopped immediately. She quickly packed her things into her bag.

I should do the same and get back before my parents catch me.

"I hope I see you again someday Yuji! It was a pleasure to meet you." she said as she untied her boat.

"Me too."

She started the engine of her boat. She was about to leave. I shouted at her before she could do anything.

"y/n!"

She turned around.

"Let's meet again in two days, early afternoon."

She nodded and waved at me "Count me in Yuji!"

————

I swam home with a light heart. Happy to have met someone, happy not to have jeopardized the fate of the kingdom. Who knows, maybe I'll make a new friend?

I stopped not too far from the back of the royal garden, near a secret passage.

"Yuji."

My heart jumped out. I was scared to death. I turn around, ready to scream and hit whoever is scaring me.

Oh, it's only Megumi.

"Megumi, you scared the shit out of me. Please, don't ever do that again."

He smiled.

"Did you spend a nice day with the girl?"

He followed me.

"I followed you, indeed. You know very well that your secret is safe with me, but I have to know where you are, you know that, it's my duty."

He's right, I didn't see him coming, I need to be more careful.

"Thanks Megumi."

He started to swim again.

"So, how did it go?"

I began to tell him everything with such enthusiasm. The light of something mysterious reflected from the ground into my eyes. I stopped for a moment and lingered on the small pink and orange shell lying on the sand. It glowed and radiated such beauty. Unconsciously, I picked it up and continued swimming toward the castle, looking forward seeing y/n again in the next few days.

disclaimer: Hello everyone! I am very happy to present you this second chapter! From this moment on, the relationship between Yuji and y/n is going to accelerate. I'm so excited to share this with you!

—————

line divider Dodger Blue by benkeibear

line divider stars and sea by animatedglittergraphics-n-more

sunelia

[thedevilsruby]

Nurse of Sunshine (Spanche Oneshot)

Trigger warning: Hospitals and mention of cancer ahead!

Blanche takes a breath as they look at the Oak Crest Medical Center, one of the most prestigious hospitals in the city.

They walk in and simply nod to the front desk greeter as she smiles and welcomes them in. They already know their destination so there was no need to ask.

They thought it was kind of sad they already knew where to go.

Walking to the elevators, they press the up button and wait for the rumble of the elevator to go down. It arrives and they step in and press the "7" button.

They stand idly as they listen to the elevator play some pop song they didn't recognize. They know they should be more optimistic but how can you be in a place like this?

The elevator dings as it arrives to the 7th floor. Blanche steps out and heads to the right wing of the floor. They nod to some nurses who greet them on the way.

"721." They mutter aloud to themself before knocking on the door. "Mother?"

"Blanche! There you are!" Bernice says happily.

Blanche opens the door, seeing their mother in her bed and their father by her side. He smiles and stands to hug them. "Hey little wave!" Blaine says. Blanche returns the hug.

"Father, how are you?" They ask after they pull away albeit reluctantly. They knew their father could use more hugs these days.

Especially with...

"Ah, I'm ok! Work's going fine!" Blaine smiles, walking back over to Bernice and holding her hand. "Your mother is getting stronger."

Blanche lets off a small unsure smile. "Chemotherapy wasn't so bad today?"

"I'm a little nauseous but my new nurse helps a lot." Bernice replies.

"New nurse?" Blanche thinks. "You have a new nurse? I thought Willow was-"

"Willow's wife had a baby." Blaine grinned. "it's his first child so he was very excited so it's understandable he would take some time off."

"Oh you were the cutest baby!" Bernice squealed. "I already told my nurse all about you!"

Blanche's jaw dropped and they groaned. "Mother, why?!"

"Because you are my child and I think he would like you!"

He?

Just then, a knock interrupts Blanche's thoughts.

They turn and see a blond man in what looked like Pikachu themed scrubs. He smiles at the family. "Am I interrupting? I can come back."

Bernice waves him off. "Oh no, Spark, you came at the perfect time!" She smiles at Blanche. "Blanchey, this is Spark Rai, my new nurse! Spark, this is my child, Blanche!"

"Nice to meet you!" Spark says, holding his hand out to them.

Blanche hesitates as they look at his hand. It looked so...soft for someone who worked in the medical field. They finally took it, gently shaking. "Hello."

Spark smiles at them before letting go. "I have some exams I need to do on Bernice if that's ok. Would you wanna stay?"

Blanche blinks as they process the question. Then it hits them. "N-No thank you. I actually have a previous engagement." They walk over and hug Bernice. "I love you so much, mother."

Bernice returns the hug, slightly disappointed Blanche couldn't stay but understood. "I love you too baby, visit again soon."

-

Blanche sat on the recliner, silently eating the meal their father brought from the hospital cafeteria for them. Bernice sat up in her bed, eating her own lunch.

"Spark likes you!" Bernice said happily after she swallowed. "He's always asking about you."

Blanche was halfway to lifting their meat ball to their mouth then stopped as they looked at Bernice. "You...didn't tell him anything did you?"

"I told him everything." Bernice said cheekily.

"Mother!" Blanche gasped. "How could you?!"

"Oh please, I'm not gonna have my baby be unhappy!" Bernice snapped. "It's about time you started dating! I'm happy you find pleasure in your research but you need someone who I know can make you happy!"

"I don't need to date!"

"Your mother has a point, Blanchey." Blaine shrugs, eating his own food. "When will we expect grandchildren?"

Blanche groans, putting their face in their hands. "I cannot believe you two..."

Bernice gets a determined glare. "Blanche Amiya Overwater, as Suicune as my witness, I will live through this awful disease and see my grandchildren!"

Blanche sighs. "But he's your nurse, mother...won't that be awkward?"

"No." Bernice said simply as she resumed her meal. "It simply means that he'll be able to take care of you when you're sick. And it will mean you marry the man who took care of me when times looked darkest."

Blanche rolls their eyes. "I am not marrying him, let alone dating him."

"Dating who?"

Blanche jumps at the sound of Spark's voice in the doorway. They look and see the blond with a curious look. Bernice gets a sneaky smile as she eyes him.

"Oh hi Spark!" She says in a syrupy tone. "I was just saying Blanche should maybe give you a call!"

Blanche's jaw drops at that statement. "Mother!"

Spark blinks, unsure how to process what he just heard. Blanche groans, covering their reddening face with their hand, wishing they could turn into a puddle and wash down the nearest drain.

"Okay."

Wait what?

They look up in surprise and shock and see Spark smiling. "If that's okay with you, Blanche, I'd love to call you at some point."

Blanche blinks in confusion. They've never had anyone take an interest in them romantically before. If...whatever this was would even turn into romance that is.

They sigh, whipping out their phone. "Let's do this, I suppose."

Bernice let out the loudest squeal of delight as she squirms happily in her bed.

One year later...

Bernice held Blaine's arm, her eyes tearing up happily as they watched Spark and Blanche exchange vows.

First her cancer had gone, now her only child had found the love of their life and was starting a new chapter.

She was so happy Spark was her nurse during that time.

-

Abrupt ending I know, but I couldn't think of anything else.

But there is something I need to tell you though.

I'm going to retire from writing (again).

I've no more ideas for writing, FotG is on permanent hiatus. MAYBE one day I'll write again but I doubt it.

Until then, thanks for supporting me.

[minghs]

words were not left to give life to once their exchange had come to a conclusion— their roots had been upended from the soil and potted elsewhere, under a gentle tide of sunshine on the windowsill of a kitchen; minghao's reciprocation tapered off into a shy smile, but what he did not expect was the press of lips to his cheek. it had seemed, in that moment, that he was not the only one with tricks up his sleeve— shocked, frazzled, his eyes had widened before they turned to fix on her for a moment. his expressions were readable here, the way they slowly pieced together the puzzle that had been spread out before his being and the way realization had settled down calmly in the form of an amused smile and glinting dark eyes. a tilt of the head, a lopsided smile, and the way his gaze had slid to the flooring lifting slightly against the wall of the corridor— all this to silently say: you got me this time, kim yewon.

it would be a lie to say his heart did not flutter when it, in fact, did flutter. it would be a lie to say his heart did not sprout wings and attempt to take off from where it stayed rooted in the confinements of his chest. no, xu minghao was rather rattled in his place— his cheeks were burning evidently so with a telltale sign of embarrassment, his knuckles pressing up against the soft curve of his nose and the rest of his hand hiding the way his lips twitch into an uncontrollable smile. the kiss almost felt as though it had been burnt into his pale skin, a memory to last all memories. still, he does his best to shake it off to save face in front of their small audience and to look his manager in the eye, who cannot help the way he wanted to snort at such a sweet sight.

the whine (... hyung.) lingered on the tip of his tongue as he nudged the older man, shooing him away playfully as he turned back to yewon, his brows shooting upwards and crowding together in an expression of incredulous intrigue. " of course, " then he trailed off, pieces once again being put together in his mind before his gaze dropped down to where she stood, rosy cheeks and pinkish lips on full display— the picture of a pretty pink peony in full bloom during spring. " ah, unless ... you were busy? i thought it would be nice for us to hang out a bit more somewhere other than the airport. " another pause, a devilish smile and a purse of the lips soon after, then his voice dropped to a hushed whisper. " you're crazy if you think i was going to let you run away after what you just did to my cheek. "

leading her forth, he couldn't help the way his pitched laughter began to tumble out of his chest— perhaps the sleepless nights had finally caught up to him or the sheer surrealism of the situation had fully set in but either way, it was undeniable: he was feeling extremely giddy. " not an imposition, yewon-ah. i'd rather you come stay with me for a bit instead of going by yourself at this hour. besides, i think we have a lot to talk about. " his hand squeezed hers tenderly, gaze watching as the mask settled naturally over her features with a visible smile of his own, before guiding her into the van cautiously. the night had truly set its course over their heads— the stars hanging low as the moon shone its brightest in the distance. with this comforting thought in his head, he slipped in after her and cradled her hands in his lap, all exhaustion hitting him like a thunderous wave.

                  ⋆ ⟡ ࣪ ˖ 💤 𓈒 ˚ ｡ ⋆

reaching his apartment had been much easier than he had anticipated for it to be, though he would entirely blame it on the fact that he felt much too tired to feel anything other than exhausted contentment— still, after he told the manager to drive back safely and to rest well, he guided yewon carefully up to where his apartment had been on one of the highest floors. he was the only one of his members to live out here by himself and his apartment had quickly become a place for them to come and reconvene with him, with each other, over bottles of maotai or soju and delicacies of all cultures.

it wasn't as though minghao minded regardless— the silence was welcomed but it could also become oppressive if unregulated. when his friends would come and bring noise into his life, he appreciated it. with the familiar click of the door unlocking, he stepped aside to allow yewon to go into his privacy first and foremost, pocketing the key fob carefully; she would be another to the list of those who could easily access his own sacred place. with a ragged sigh did he shuffle in after her, toeing his shoes off and shrugging the jacket off before hanging it off to the side. " let me just, " and as though it were magic, softened light had delicately smoothed out the darkness. paintings hung on walls came into view, the soft purple glow ebbed from his living room and cast shadows across his sofa, across the floors. the curtains obscured the view from his porch— the gentle push and pull of the ocean against the shore.

here, he could finally drop all responsibilities and burdens from the day. here, he could allow himself to shift into the minghao that his fans knew minutely about. he peered at yewon for a moment or two, a hand on the small of her back to command her attention, only to retaliate and press a gentle kiss to her own cheek after a moment of contemplation. a laugh given to her then, before gesturing to the living room— " have a seat, yewon-ie. i'll make some pu'er tea and bring it out. "

how strange it was that a single murmur could set her entire body on fire, the heat mingling amicably with the goosepimples that tickled their way along the nape of her neck. had anyone ever spoken her name in such a way before? excitement reverberated up her spine at the tone. a symphony of angels could choir overhead & she would be none the wiser, entirely enveloped in the cocoon their affection cloaked them in. the soft kiss to her hand was more than enough to send the butterflies racing through her, from toes to tip, fluttering & light & so delicately devoted. it didn't help, that look he managed to pin her with, sending her trembling heart into a frenzy as his words continued. teeth sunk into her lower lip, biting back the gentle rebuttals she wanted to offer. were these things really worth his gratitude? her fascination with delving into every part of him, trying to satisfy her own selfish cravings for more. she was greedy, that way, her appetite to consume him.... maybe he was right, maybe she was dangerous. his lips caressing the crest of her ear was enough to stutter her heart to a complete & utter standstill. he teases! that curl to his lips gave it all away. gaze captured there, too. those lips. the cruelty.. at least, that would be her counter if she'd manage to keep a coherent train of thought. blinking the stars from her gaze, the fizzle slowly evaporated like carbonation from a freshly poured soda. mind mended, attention returned, her eyes on minghao's in a way that was surely indecent for any place deemed public. but his words, his smile, his laughter, his touch— he's blessed her with boldness. an openness she once thought impossible now true & real & very much possible. she could gaze, she could touch. she could ask for intimacy. to reach out & stroke at affection, to urge it forth like a young bud in well-tended soil. toiling away at the garden had not been tedious, no. it thrilled & excited. the rush of a rollercoaster, perched on its peak before the fall. frantic fingers peeling at prettily-wrapped packages on the morning of your birthday. the first peach of june, ripe with longing & springtime. without warning or much forethought— who is this new kim yewon who takes action without considering a dozen consequences first ? — she rose onto her toes, closing the space between them to press her lips to his cheek. yes, she would play the part of devil easily & without question if that meant her angel would stay by her side.

voices & the encroaching of others interrupted the safety of their shielded world, the bubble bursting as reality settled in once again. of course, he needed to go. time was short & while their reunion hadn't been long, surely he was tired from all the travel & performing & late nights serenading her with sending midnight messages. he should get some rest. she offered the bag that housed her gift without any fuss or argument, giving a grateful bow to the manager & bodyguard, fully prepared to make her exit when his question stopped her dead in her tracks. come with ? when she talked of greeting him at the airport upon his arrival with a smile & warm embrace, she hadn't even considered the fact that her returning with him would even be a possibility. the fluttering in her heart soared, a magpie taking flight, & the once shy smile on her features now blossomed into full bloom. ❛ really? ❜ the question full of all the caution she had previous thrown to the wind. a nod followed, the bashfulness finally settling over her like a neatly quilted blanket. but the prospect of being able to spend more of their limited free time together was too good an offer to pass up, too rare an opportunity with their chaotic schedules to allow it to slip by. hands interwoven, her finger's tightened their grasp on his as the other moved, obscuring her features behind a mask once more. reaching over, she anchored her hand on his forearm, giving him an affectionate squeeze. if it was already difficult to part, how would she be able to let go? that would have to be a conundrum for future yewon to settle. for now, she simply drew herself closer, resting her forehead on his shoulder for a moment before allowing herself to be led forward. ❛ mhmm, i'd love to. if it's not an imposition. ❜ she made a mental note to thank him, & the staff, for everything.

[daisynik7]

Give You Blue

Chapter 8: How It Begins

Pairing: Eren x f!reader, Reiner x f!reader (past relationship)

cw: switching POVs (reader is 2nd person, Eren is third) angst, fluff, language

Word Count: ~3.5k

Previous Chapter | Epilogue

Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3 | Give You Blue Taglist

Summary: The conclusion of the series Give You Blue. Author’s Note: Seriously, I cannot thank you all enough for sticking with this through the end. I wanted to write a story that was realistic, relatable, and romantic, and I hope that in the end, I accomplished that. I wasn’t sure anyone would want to read a story like this, so I’m so grateful to all of you who have. I appreciate every single one of you so so much. I’ll definitely miss this series, but I’m also relieved to be give our main characters some rest LOL. Stay tuned for the Epilogue, coming out in the next week or so! 

Eren fingers are entwined with yours, hands resting on the center console of his car, windows rolled down halfway to let the passing breeze sweep through his hair. Every so often, he’ll glance at you, smiling, sunglasses covering his eyes as he drives the familiar route towards the bridge between Paradis and Marley. The radio plays songs you’ve listened with him before, during all those little hangouts inside his room. Choruses and verses he’s demonstrated for you on his guitar, impressing you with his skills. He hums each tune happily, thumb tapping against your skin in tandem with the rhythm. 

Nearly three months ago, you were in the passenger seat, that time in Reiner’s car, driving the same road, but in the opposite direction, observing the ocean blue with tears in your eyes and a broken heart. Wondering what would happen next after losing what seemed like everything to you. Because Reiner was everything to you. Was.

Now, you see your future in a clearer light. Instead of storms or perpetual rain, you envision sunshine and bright skies, filling you with warmth that has since slipped from you since your breakup. You’re no longer lost; rather, you’re wandering to something new, something different. Something wonderful. And you can’t help imagining Eren on the other side of that, welcoming you with open arms. Still, the journey isn’t over. In fact, it’s just beginning. And before you reach your destination, there’s obstacles you need to face to make it there in one piece. 

Halfway into the drive, you realize where he’s taking you. It’s his little paradise he told you about before, the special beach he goes to for an escape. It’s my super-secret spot. You have to be really special to know about it. I’ll show you this one day. You’ll love it. Even then, several weeks ago, Eren invited you into his world, deeming you special enough to share it. He trusts you, is giving his all to you. And you wish your heart wasn’t so damaged still, so that you could give him the same. The love that he deserves.  

He pulls into a spot right off the shore, letting go of your hand to put the car in park. “We’re here,” he announces, grinning. At the trunk, he pulls out two blankets, handing you one to carry. He leads you down weathered stairs towards an alcove hidden away from the main beach. The sand is soft against your feet, sinking in with each step. The distinct melody of waves crashing on the shore is soothing to your ears. It really is paradise, especially with Eren guiding the way, turning back occasionally to flash that winning smile at you. Eventually, he settles for a spot far enough from the shore to where the water doesn’t reach, laying the blanket flat. He sits cross-legged, focused on the view in front of him. He’s at ease, the tension from his shoulders relaxing, his sunglasses reflecting the glare of the golden hour. You take your place beside him, indulging in this sight. Their last moment together in the sun before you return to reality. 

The scene is amazing, streaks of orange and pink mirrored in the shimmering blue sea. It’s too majestic to stare at directly, so you watch it rippling on the ocean surface. With the sun gradually sinking into the horizon, Eren scoots closer, nudging you. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

You rest your head on his shoulder, nodding. “It is. Thank you for taking me here.”

“I know it’s not exactly the runaway you wanted, but it’s the best I could give you,” he mentions, leaning into you. 

“This is exactly what I want. To be here with you.”

The two of you sit in silence, admiring the sunset until it disappears, and the night sky takes over, like a curtain falling after the final act. You’re holding hands now, squeezing each other tight, desperate not to let go. Maybe he senses it too, the end of this tiny getaway together. 

“Eren,” you start, voice trembling. 

Before you can continue, he turns to kiss you on the forehead gently. “It’s okay. You can be honest with me. I can take it.” 

Tears stream down your cheeks, his thumbs brushing them away as he cradles your face between his palms. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle. “I’m so sorry, Eren. I wish I could give you what you want, like what you’ve given to me. But I can’t. Not right now. I need time.”

“Then I’ll wait for you,” he urges, placing delicate kisses along the corners of your eyes, collecting your tears on his lips. “I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

You shake your head, refusing. “I won’t let you do that. There’s a whole world out there, people without baggage, without a broken heart. They’re so much better for you than I am. It’ll be so much easier than dealing with a mess like me.”

“I don’t want easier. I want you.” 

“Why? Why me?”

He smiles softly. “Because you make me happy.”

You continue to cry, asking, “How can it be that simple? What if you get sick of me? What if I can’t make you happy anymore?” It’s what happened with Reiner. He decided one day that he was no longer in love with you, and in an instant, the life you built together disintegrated into a pile of dust. Remnants of precious memories wasted away into nothing. That’s what it felt like. What if the same happens with Eren? What if you weren’t meant to be loved at all?

He keeps holding your firmly in his grasp, a look of determination in his face. “There’s so many what if scenarios you can give me. I won’t pretend to know exactly what the future has in store for us. But all I know is that I’m the happiest when I’m with you. I’m not going to let something like this go just because I’m worried it might not work out in the end. If I’m going to take a leap of faith, it’s going to be for you.” He nuzzles his nose to yours, grinning. “And who’s to say that you won’t get sick of me?”

“I would never,” you reply, gazing at him through weepy eyes. “But I’m scared of becoming a failure again.” 

“Having your past relationship end doesn’t mean you’re a failure. Love isn’t about winning or losing. It’s about learning and growing. Realizing how capable you are to love somebody and allowing them to love you. Isn’t that such a wonderful thing?”

You watch him, awed by his wisdom. As much as you wish it could, it’s still not enough to take the fear away from your fragile heart. After a moment of silence, listening to the gentle waves splash on the shore, Eren says, “Can I tell you something?” It’s dark now, the chill from the night air prickling your bare skin. He unfolds the second blanket, wrapping it around the both of you. You nod, huddling closer, relishing the warmth he always surrounds you in. 

“I emailed my advisor. I have a meeting with him Monday morning. I’m officially going to change my major,” he announces proudly. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. No more running away. I’m not scared anymore. That’s because of you.” He faces you, eyes shining like emeralds in the pitch black of evening. “You’ve given me the strength to do this. To take control of my life and make decisions for me, and not for anyone else. With you by my side, I can do anything.”

“Eren,” you whisper, chest heavy with adoration. 

He presses his forehead to yours. “I wish I could take away the pain. Take whatever hurts you and make it disappear. You have no idea how special you are to me. So, I’ll wait for you, whenever you’re ready to share your heart with me. Until then, I’ll stay by your side, as your friend, as your RA, as a person who cares deeply about you. I’ll always be here for you, okay?”

You swallow hard, tears trickling down your cheeks as you kiss him, unable to express how much he means to you, letting your lips do the talking instead. It isn’t fair to love him with a broken heart; he deserves to be loved fully by someone who isn’t afraid of it. Someone who’s healed instead of damaged, steady without stumbling at every little crack in the pavement they come across. With time, you’re determined to become that somebody for him. 

Eventually, you find the will to speak. “I won’t make you wait long. I promise.”

He laughs, snuggling closer to you under the blanket. “Pinky promise?” 

“Pinky promise.” You hook your finger around his, swaying it between you. 

Eren drives back to campus with your hand in his, brushing his thumb across your skin affectionately. You part ways outside his room, kissing each other once more before stepping down the hallway to your own room. You scroll through your phone to find Reiner’s contact, determined more than ever to settle this once and for all. No more running away.

Without hesitation, you type out your message. 

Reiner. I’m ready to talk. 

~~~

Sunday afternoon, you and Reiner agree to meet at a café on-campus, one that the two of you frequented freshman year when you were a couple. Upon your arrival, you notice that he’s already sat at a table, waiting for you, two drinks set in front of him. You sit across from him, back straight and neck tall, twiddling your thumbs at your lap where he can’t see. 

“I already ordered,” he comments, pushing the coffee cup towards you, reciting the drink name and all the specifics of how you typically like it. Proving that he hasn’t forgotten. 

You take it into your hand, tipping it into your mouth. “Thank you,” you say after swallowing your sip. 

There are a few beats of awkward silence before he starts speaking. “I’m sorry about the other night. I shouldn’t have ambushed you like that.” 

You nod in acknowledgement, fixated on the lid of your drink cup, nervous to meet his gaze. 

“I meant it, though,” he adds. “I still want to get back together.”

You take a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “Why all of a sudden?”

He shrugs, circling the rim of his cup with his finger. “I realized how much it sucks to be alone.”

“So, by default, I’m supposed to bail you out? It doesn’t work like that, Reiner. You can’t love me only when it’s convenient for you. That’s not love. That’s selfish.” This time, you do look at him, finding the confidence in your voice. 

He doesn’t speak, facing the window, averting his eyes from yours. When he doesn’t respond, you continue. “It’s hard for anyone to be alone. Imagine how I felt when you broke up with me.”

Finally, he replies, “And you’re right. I was an idiot to do that. We should have never broken up. I didn’t know it was going to be so fucked up.” He trails off at his last statement, as if he’s just realizing it himself. 

“You weren’t in love with me anymore. It wouldn’t have been fair for either of us to stay in a relationship like that. And you were right: we relied on each other too much. So much that it hurt the most when we couldn’t anymore.”

Suddenly, he holds your hand, grasping it firmly. “Then let’s go back. It’ll be better this time. I’ll be better.” He’s desperate now; it shows in his pleading eyes and quivering speech. The tightness in his grip as he clings to you, frantic. 

You don’t pull away from him, squeezing him in return. “I don’t want to go back. I want to move forward. I can’t keep relying only on other people. I need to rely on myself, first and foremost. Stand tall and make choices because it’s what I want to do. That’s what growing up is all about, right?” 

“And you’re not scared?”

“I’m terrified. But we shouldn’t let fear prevent us from moving on and being happy. I don’t know if you and I can make each other happy anymore. I was so careful with you, to a point where I was lying to myself about being fine with the decisions you made. I guess I always felt the need to protect you. It’s been that way since we were kids. As much as we don’t want to admit it, we’re different now. Everything is different. It’ll never be like it was, no matter how hard we try to recreate it.” 

He revels at your words, a glimmer of defeat in his expression, understanding that there’s nothing else he can do to change your mind. After a minute of contemplation, he ponders, “You think that it could have worked out if I didn’t break up with you?”

You don’t answer right away, delicately formulating your reply. “Somehow, we stopped communicating. I went along with whatever you said, even when I didn’t agree. And you didn’t talk to me about the fears you were having before you broke up with me. I think we were so focused on protecting each other’s feelings that we stopped being honest to one another. I think eventually, we would realize that and break up anyways.” You take another sip of your drink before asking, “Do you think it would have worked out?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it. Eventually, he replies, “I guess when you put it like that, then no.”

You keep your hand in his, because this time, it’s really the last. And it doesn’t feel dirty or wrong to do it; it feels right. Like there’s finally that understanding that you’ve been racking your brain for the last three months. 

“Maybe we were better off staying friends,” he muses. 

“Maybe. But I don’t ever regret loving you, Reiner.” You used to think the same thing, convinced that crossing the line from friends to lovers was the vital mistake that doomed your relationship. With Eren’s words replaying in your head, you can’t say you believe that sentiment anymore. After all, Reiner has and will always be your first love. The person who taught you how to love and to receive love in the first place. Despite it not working out for the better, nothing will replace that. 

He returns your smile, still holding you. “Me neither. I’m sorry. For everything.”  

Silence falls between you two once again, a comfortable one this time, full of acceptance that this is truly the end for you and Reiner. Attempting to lighten the mood, you ask, “So, are you and Christa official yet?”

He looks at you confused, then realization washes over him. “Oh, Christa! Yeah, no. Turns out her and her big in Delta Delta are super close, if you know what I mean.” He smirks, relaxing in his seat. “I never stood a chance.”

You let go of him, leaning back into your chair. “Bummer. I genuinely do think she is nice.”

“Yeah. But I’d be annoyed too if my ex was pushing us to be friends.” He clears his throat, crossing his arms over his chest. “What about that Eren guy?”

You raise a brow at him. “Really? You want to talk about him?”

“Not my finest moment, I know. But I’m still curious. Is he your boyfriend now or what?”

You shake your head. “No. I told him I need time.”

Surprised, he repeats, “Time? For what?”

“To figure myself out.”

“To figure yourself out?” 

“Yeah. I don’t want to give him my shattered, fucked up heart. It’s not right.”

He continues to study you, confused. “So that’s it? You’re not even going to give him a chance?”

“He said he’ll wait for me,” you respond, belly fluttering as you recall last night on the beach. 

Reiner leans forward on the table, invested. “He’s totally in love with you. If he’s willing to wait for you, he’s in it for the long haul. He’s already fallen for every piece of you, I guarantee that.”

“It’s not fair to him, though.”

“It’s not fair to yourself. He’s not asking you for a healed heart. He wants you just the way you are. Why deprive yourself from someone who’s already willing to love you like this?”

“Because I don’t want to make the same mistakes again!”

He sighs, drumming his fingers on the surface impatiently. “Look, I’m not going to sit here and act like I’m completely cool with it. But for the first time in a long time, I’m trying not to be selfish again. Don’t let our past influence your future. You told me you want to rely more on yourself, right? Then start with this. Trust your heart. Don’t run away. Go for it.”

“I can’t believe my ex is actually giving me dating advice,” you chuckle, seriously contemplating his encouragement. 

“Consider this my parting gift to you. As your ex and as your former best friend. I want you to be happy. And if this guy makes you happy, why wait? If it means anything to you, just know I’ll be rooting for you, whatever you decide.”

You grin. “It does mean something. Thank you, Reiner.” You no longer see him as an obstacle standing in your way. Instead, he’s on the sidelines, supporting you. Rooting for you. It took three months of suffocating to surface. And now, you’re free. “Anyways, I should go. I have a lot to think about.”

He nods, remaining seated. “Yeah.”

You’re ready to walk to the exit when he calls out to you. “Coco?”

You turn to face him, heart thumping at the familiar nickname. The youthful twinkle in his eyes returns in an instant and all your childhood memories flash before you in hyperdrive, glimpses of your past life together. Laughing so hard that you’re clutching your bellies until you’re doubled over on his bed. Hidden under homemade forts built out of pillows and cushions, shining flashlights underneath your chins, creating hand puppets with shadows on the walls. Late night drives with the windows rolled all the way down, blasting music and singing at the top of your lungs as he speeds through the highway. Splitting milkshakes at the diner, blowing out candles on birthday cakes. Endless nights spent in each other’s arms, listening to his steady heartbeat. First kisses, first times, last summer and goodbyes. Three months ago, you would have done anything to go back. Now, you’re ready to move on. The final hit of nostalgia before you go. 

He smiles at you knowingly, as if he’s watching the same scenes of your lives play out in his head. “Nothing. I just wanted to say that one last time.” 

~~~

Eren is in his room, sitting on the floor, strumming the strings on his guitar randomly, not playing any particular tune. He recalls the events of last night, laying it all out on the table, confessing his feelings, revealing his vulnerabilities. He won’t pressure her to rush into this, knowing she’s still processing and healing from her trauma. Her thinking about him is enough. Until the day comes when they can both love each other fully, he’ll wait patiently. 

There’s a knock on his door. He isn’t suspecting company, so he assumes it’s one of his residents here to report a problem. When he opens it, he’s shocked to see her in front of him, staring at him nervously. 

“I told you I wouldn’t make you wait long,” she says, stepping towards him. 

His chest is heavy, fluttering incessantly, and all he can do is laugh, closing the distance between them by wrapping his arms around her. “It’s been the longest day ever, actually. You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”

She snuggles her face into his chest. “Me too. I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, though.”

He kisses the top of her head, smiling. “Tell me.”

“I can get very insecure and very anxious, so you’ll have to deal with that.”

“Okay. I can handle that,” he answers, inhaling her scent through his nostrils, filling his lungs with as much of her essence as possible. 

“I want to talk about everything with you. I want us to be completely honest with each other all the time.”

Nodding, he responds, “I want that too. I want that too, sweetie.” He hugs her tighter, never wanting to let go.

“Also, sometimes I hog the blanket. But I don’t do it on purpose, I swear. I can’t control what my body does while I sleep.” She clings to him, peering up at him with the sweetest expression. 

He nuzzles her nose to hers, joking, “Ah, well, I don’t think this is going to work out then.”

She glares at him playfully, pouting her lips. “That’s your dealbreaker?”

“Well, I guess I can make an exception. For you,” he teases, kissing her. 

It began with an ending, and it ends with a new beginning. One journey closes, and another begins. It may not be easy, but what wonderful, magical adventure ever is? It’s the detours and bumps along the way that make it memorable, make it worthwhile. And with her by his side, and him by hers, Eren’s confident that they’ll get through anything. Together. 

@batafuraikisu @bloompompom @monirei @filunara @katestrophes @ichinosejager13 @hoperenae @zellskz @e-ayyy @liliorsstuff-blog @maliakealoha @holdmeclosebutdontloveme @chrollohearttags @sailorputa @squickkk @dnyllmh @hellomeow12 @s-cream-ing @potofstewie @conniesbbymama @erzascarlett28 @lem-hhn @roronoazorosbxtchh @ichigostrawberry15 @rhaelrence @lilshades @bigmoodyjoody @icansmellsouls @aangsupremacy @ashsauroras @bakuhoes-bxtch @si-kamo @jmtherula @imaddicted-b @monkemanjeager @neesiewrote @large-juice @chiinni @belovedackerman

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hi continue the parasite thingy bc I wanna know what did villain do (the parasite part was disgustang indeed)

pt. 1

The hero had never seen the villain in a sleepy condition. Hell, they could probably choose if they were exhausted or not. If they could, they’d never shown the weary side of them and the hero supposed, they’d do the same if they were them.

However, this was more or less…surprising. The villain held them tight, lying with half their body on the hero’s, hot breath against their neck. It felt familiar, almost. Their relationship was full of such moments but never, ever, had it happened with this intensity.

“You have questions,” the villain mumbled and the hero felt goosebumps all over their neck. The villain’s hand was on their lower stomach, a part of the hero they had never necessarily liked. But it didn’t feel like the villain minded.

“Woah, what gave it away?” They felt the villain’s lips twitch on their neck, contorting into a smirk.

“Don’t get all feisty now.” For a brief moment, the hero didn’t want any answers, though. They felt at peace. It was quiet in their apartment and the rays of sunshine sparkled through their curtains, letting the villain’s hair glow. They’d survived the night. The pain, the blood…when the hero looked around the room, they spotted a few bloody cloths here and there. Anxiety prickled under their skin.

“I didn’t know you’re so touchy.” The hero forced a laugh. “And I didn’t know you could sleep…I mean, you basically get to decide who can and cannot….”

The villain groaned and pushed themselves up on their hands, each of them digging into the soft mattress on either side of the hero’s face. A new wave of embarrassment, of being flustered caught up with them and the villain didn’t even hide how they focused on the hero’s lips.

“Do you know the difference between a predator and a parasite?” the villain asked. Their eyes went back up to the hero‘s.

“The parasite doesn’t kill the host?” the hero asked. They dealt with anatomy on a daily basis, not with ecology and species knowledge.

The villain smiled softly.

“That seems logical, doesn’t it?” They traced the hero’s bottom lip with their thumb, their whole focus dropping again. “But no…that’s not it. Parasites are smaller than the host. Prey is usually smaller than their predator. Which is a problem.”

“I don’t get it,” the hero said. They frowned and traced their abdomen with their fingertips. Nothing. Not a scar. No cuts. Absolutely nothing.

“Smaller animals have higher reproduction rates. Which means the prey controls the predator’s population. More prey, more predator. Less prey, less predator.”

“And parasites are usually smaller than their hosts,” the hero said. “Wait, does that mean parasites could kill the host’s population?”

The villain smiled again. But instead of giving an answer, they let themselves fall back into bed, staring at the ceiling.

“But that doesn‘t make any sense…their hosts would die, which means nothing would survive.”

“That’s where evolution comes into this. Only parasite-host relationships survive which have developed security systems to do so. Like a slow reproduction rate and very specified ways of living. It doesn’t mean the parasite protects the host.”

The hero turned their head to look at their saviour, watching how their chest rose and fell rhythmically. They were pretty.

The small scar on their arm, a bigger one on their throat…the hero remembered fighting them, how scared they’d been of being touched and put to sleep, only to be killed in said sleep. It didn’t take them long to figure out the villain was aware of their powers. And very fond of them. They loved toying with the hero. Loved to mess with their head a little.

They knew it, god, they knew it. And still, they let them. Let them play with them until they felt stupid.

“I still don’t get it,” the hero said. “What part of this are we playing?”

“The parasite is the parasite, you’re the host and I am the security system, limiting the parasite’s access to you.” They turned towards the hero. “I’m the second host. The primary host, my love.”

The hero was even more horrified than before.

[mrs-dr-reid]

My Personal Joel Miller Headcanons (and a handful of Ellie Williams ones too) Part 1/?

Temple kisser. The man cannot go five minutes without pressing a kiss against your temple. Even if you’re super busy, he will find a way to siddle up next to you and plant a kiss on your temple

The best listener. If all you want to do is rant about the terrible day you had, he will sit there and just let you ramble on, and he’ll only interject with things to spur you on, like “that bitch!” or “you’re kidding!”

He’s actually a pretty decent chef. He’s not Michilin-level, but he can churn out a good hearty meal if given the correct time, ingredients, and tools. He even wears a dorky apron you and Ellie found for him that says “Kiss the Cook” on it

He’s finally embraced puns and dad jokes, and it’s one of the main things he bonds with Ellie over. Whenever he hits her with one she’s never heard and she falls over laughing, a very smug smile spreads across his face for like 5 seconds before he’s back to “business mode”

Legitimately MELTS when you compliment or praise him for the smallest things. Like if you tell him, “Green’s a really good color on you, Babe”, his ears turn bright red and he grumbles “Aw, stop” while waving you off. Or if you say, “Dinner was really good tonight, Honey”, he flushes pink and mutters “Ah, it was nothin special”. You’re still working on getting him to accept compliments

Usually when you’re sharing a bed, he’s the big spoon and he holds you as close to his chest as he physically can, but if it’s been a really rough day for him, you don’t think twice about wrapping your arms around his middle and making him be the little spoon

He usually calls you Sunshine, Darlin, Honey, or Gorgeous, but sometimes if he’s feeling adventurous, he likes to bust out a new pet name you’ve never heard before to see how you react. It still brings a smile to his face when he remembers how your whole body turned red when he called you “Sugar” one time

He loves sitting and looking at the night sky with you and Ellie, because you always point out the constellations to her and tell her the stories behind them while she’s totally enraptured. He just loves being with his girls whenever he can

You found an old record player and a bunch of old records, so every now and again when you notice he's getting kinda tense, you force him to dance with you. He pretends he’s annoyed, but he’s a sentimental old fool at heart, and he can’t help but hold you close as Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong croon “Dream a Little Dream of Me”

He’s terrible about remembering to drink water, and he finally starts carrying a canteen with him wherever he goes after you give him a twenty minute lecture on dehydration and UTIs

He loves sitting with you and watching you read, because he can always tell what’s happening in your book by the little sounds or faces you make. If you let out a quick exhalation through your nose, something funny happened. If a tiny groan escapes your throat, the main character did something stupid. If your eyebrows scrunch together and then fly up to your forehead, you just put together the plot twist. And so on and so forth

Since Ellie came along, you like to tease him that she’s resharpening his dad senses. He rolls his eyes whenever you do, but he silently agrees with you every time he subconsciously throws out an arm to stop her from walking into something dangerous, or automatically responds with “Go ask your mother” to whatever she asks him

He’s not much of a hand-holding kind of guy (unless it’s been a rough day and he’s feeling touch-starved), so his favorite way to walk with you is when you wrap your arms around his and lean against him slightly

When his PTSD decides to very aggressively announce its presence, the only thing that can calm him down and ground him is if you hold him against your chest so he can listen to your heartbeat, because he needs reassurance that you're there and alive

He struggles sometimes with verbalizing how much he loves you and cares about you, so you two figured out a non-verbal system to help him when he can't put it into words. If he points to his eye, then his heart, then you, that means "I love you". If he squeezes your hand or taps your arm or shoulder three times: "I need you", three tugs on your shirt or belt loops: "I want you", and a bunch of other signals. So whenever he's having what Ellie calls a "rough word day", you use that system

Sometimes he leans into the "old man" thing to annoy Ellie. He'll hobble around and say "Oh, my back! Ellie, get my cane!", or when Ellie asks him about what it was like before the outbreak, he'll start his story with "Back in my day..." just to hear her groan. He gets a kick out of it

Snores like a fuckin' hibernating bear. Like actually. It's a problem. You need to prop him up with like four pillows to get him to stop.

He likes surprising you with little things to make you smile. If you like to garden, he'll put together a little basket or seed packets and tools and leave it where you can find it. And he always leaves a little note with whatever surprise he leaves you that says, "Hope you like it -Joel", and it always brings a smile to your face

[keilemlucent]

best nest

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: 6.2k

Keigo's never been able to properly indulge his instincts, though you're more than willing to help him change that.

warnings: avian, feral keigo. rut/heat cycles. nesting. wing kink. breeding. horny shit, i tell u what

beta’ed: @keiqos​ 

--------

wow :’^) this is a collab with the wuv, @keiqos​!! we each worked on a fic that was our own take of keigo during his rut, and now y’all get the fun results. here is hers!!! enjoy this feast!!!

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

Keigo had been acting particularly weird for the past few weeks. 

He was hardly a skittish person, yet he had been avoidant and downright shy in the last month or so. Despite living together, you had hardly seen or heard from him, and when you tried to address his absence, Keigo continually brushed you off.

He was hardly meeting your eyes when you managed to be in the apartment at the same time.

Finally, one night, he came in late. You sat, waiting on the couch, very awake circa three in the morning.

His eyes went wide, knowing he was caught.

“I know it’s late, but can we talk?” You asked softly, patting the couch next to you.

Keigo nodded stiffly, wings folded timidly against his back as he sat. In his big, tough hero uniform, he looked so odd with his hands held so nervously. 

“What’s going on, love?” You spoke quietly, lowering the volume of the TV to a hum. “Talk to me.”

Keigo silently picked at the threading of his gloves, then pulled off his visor. He stayed silent, eyes wide and far off.

You sighed, bringing your knees up under your body to face him. You tried to sound strong, but there was a twinge of weakness in your voice, “Are you... seeing other people?”

That notion brought Keigo right back, head snapping up to meet your own before gripping the sides of your face (harder than you would’ve expected) and rapidly shaking his head.

“No, no, no, not at all,” Keigo scooted closer to you as he spoke. “I promise, not that.”

“Then what?” You were frowning, despite Keigo’s contact feeling aloe on a burn.

Once again, Keigo seemed to stumble. His eyes averted, going glassy.

“It’s embarrassing,” His hands slip from your face, back into his lap. “Very embarrassing.”

You raised an eyebrow.

Keigo Takami was many things. But, shy and passive were not in that repertoire. 

You deadpanned.

“Please, just tell me,” You huffed at him, crossing your arms. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks, Kei’. Feels weird.”

“I know, it’s just— fuck.” His gloved hands dragged down his face, flushing a bright red. 

You figured he was a bit warm.

Carefully, you reached forward, going to pull them from his hands. He stiffened harshly, watching you with... slitted eyes— (had they always been like that?). You gingerly freed Keigo’s fingers and palms, intertwining your own. 

“You can tell me, Keigo,” You smiled at him, squeezing and feeling pricks of pain in the flesh of your own hands. 

You noticed then, that Keigo’s fingernails were longer, pointed even. Though, they didn’t look manicured. They seemed to grow darker at the cuticle.

Your eyes widened as you looked up at Keigo as he turned his head away, half hiding his face in the fluffy collar of his jacket. 

“You know how I go on a ‘business trip’ about this time every year?” Keigo asked, rubbing a clawed thumb over the back of your hands. 

You nodded, “You go on lots of business trips, Kei’. What’s different about this spring one?” 

Keigo shifted his legs, wings twitching at his back. His entire form emanated his uncomfortable energy. From the tension rolling off his shoulders to the way he clenched and unclenched his jaw, Keigo was visibly very anxious. 

“Okay, uh, how do I explain this—” Keigo dropped his head, then looked back up at you, blinking slitted pupils at you. “You know how I’ve got wings?”

“Duh, dummy,” You rolled your eyes, reaching out to brush some fingers over one of the large, external feathers. 

Oh, but you got a reaction you weren’t expecting. You hadn’t thought anything of your action, yet Keigo audibly moaned with the contact. Something loud, high, and sinful as his thighs clenched together.

Both of your eyes went wide. 

“So,” You began slowly, “You have wings.”

“I have wings,” Keigo’s voice sounded tense and held in his throat, shaking just a bit. “And, I have some other avian traits as well.”

“Like...?” You coaxed. Whatever it was must’ve really made Keigo uncomfortable if he was being this resistant to talking about it. This man was the number two hero, yet he was mincing about like a kitten. 

“Uhhh... They’re more behavioral. Some physical,” Keigo bit his lip, shaking his head. “What do birds do in the spring?”

“Is this a riddle?”

“No, straightforward question.”

You really thought he was pulling your leg, but based on Keigo’s words and grave expression, he was dead serious.

And you had a dead serious answer.

“Oh my god, Keigo, you migrate?!” Your mouth fell open. Keigo’s eyes went wide and he seemed to stifle a laugh before shaking his head, feathers ruffling. 

“No, oh my God, no,” Keigo carried some mirth in his gaze now. “Not at all.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing with him. The tension seemed to be somewhat out of his shoulders until you set a hand on his knee and squeezed. 

“Keigo, out with it,” You rolled your eyes. “I know it’s scary, but I promise, no matter what it is, I’m here for you okay?”

You let your eyes soften as you sighed, squeezing his hands. 

Keigo looked you dead in the face, “We fuck, (Y/N).”

You choked on your own spit, before leaning back with a small laugh, “I know it’s been a minute with your schedule, but we do indeed do that outside of spring.”

“No, no, not like that,” Keigo ran his hands down his face, shaking his head. “I’ve been avoiding you because this whole conversation is going to be weird and embarrassing. You up for it? Because it only gets weirder.”

“Lay it on me, tailfeathers,” You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. 

Keigo took a hand to sheepishly rub the back of his neck, “One of my more... avian traits is this... I don’t know, the Commission called it a ‘rut’, but I’ve done my own research and I’m not sure if that fully encompasses all of what it is.”

You weren’t entirely unfamiliar with the concept, but you certainly weren’t an expert.

“What happens during it?” 

“Uh, to be frank, exactly what happens during a bird’s mating season, and then some.” Keigo’s long nails dug into the fabric of his cargo pants. “My feathers grow in a bit differently. I nest. I get weird and territorial, possessive. I cannot tell you how much I’ve wanted to leave your neck covered in bite marks, just fucking claiming you—”

You both swallowed.

“And... You’re insatiably horny on top of all of this?” You asked, trying to ignore the way your insides were heating up.

Keigo nodded, waiting for you to reply with a softened, gooey gaze.

Oh, this was a little weird, right? Keigo was avian in some ways, but you never thought he had a whole ass mating season-

“Wait, so, in the spring, the ‘business trips’,” You used air quotes with a frown. “You’ve been just disappearing for your ‘rut’ and then coming back? Alone?”

Keigo waved his hands between the two of you, feathers fluffing up defensively behind him, “No, n-no, not like that. Never once. I’d just hole up in my apartment and fuck my hand like it was God.”

You choked. 

It made sense, you and Keigo moved in together at the end of last spring. Looking back, the timing now seemed to be intentional. 

“When did it start?” You asked, getting semi-intrigued by Keigo’s odd biology. 

“I was sixteen, I think,” Keigo did the mental math and bit his lip. “The Commission didn’t really know what to do with me, so they would just lock me up in my room with two extra blankets and call it good.”

You choked again. 

“So, you just disappear, deal with it, then come back?” You frown. “Keigo, I would’ve helped if I would’ve known.”

“I don’t know, (Y/N), it’s a lot to ask,” Keigo’s nails bit into his wrists as he squeezed. “I’m basically a horny, possessive, feral birdman for two weeks, not too mention the time leading up to it. That’s why I’ve been all distance. I’m sorry, I should’ve at least told you.”

“I would have appreciated it if you had, but I understand,” You grabbed Keigo’s hand again and squeezed. “This doesn’t exactly sound like a thing you’ve really ever been able to deal with comfortably, huh?”

“N-not really,” Keigo got all sheepish again, scooting a bit closer to you. “I haven’t really known what to do about it this year, so I’ve just been putting off facing you. I was just gonna get a hotel room or something, run off for two weeks, and then come back.” 

“Another ‘business trip’?” You raised an eyebrow as Keigo looked down, all sheepish and blushy. You tutted, shaking your head. “Well, babe, not this time. I’ve got you. I’m your live-in partner and I will not let my sweet, bird boy handle horny hours alone. I haven’t made you before, right?”

That made Keigo laugh, softly, some of the stress being held still in his wings falling away.

“I appreciate that, angel, but I don’t want you to agree to do this until you fully understand it,” He beamed you a smile. God, the man was like sunshine and candy when he chose to be. 

You nodded, giving him a(n) (over)confident smile, “Lay it on me, babe.”

Keigo had amassed quite a detailed understanding of his biological clock over the years, and he was able to spit it all back onto you.

“It’s basically two weeks of time where my only thoughts are ‘nest’, ’fuck’,’protect’, ’breed’—” Keigo cut himself off when your eyes went wide. 

“Wait, like, have children?” You asked, gut feeling unsettled. 

You and Keigo had been dating for a while, but the topic of children had never been seriously brought up. 

Does helping him mean to commit to having kids?

“No, not exactly. Like, I’m trying to protect a mate and breed, but that doesn’t mean the outcome needs to be children. At all,” Keigo assured you, patting your knee. “I know, it’s weird. I definitely am not into getting you pregnant, but that instinct part of my brain is.”

“Well, I’m on birth control, so we should be good there, right?” You laughed, relieved, squeezing his hand. “What do you mean by nesting?”

 “A literal nest. A spot that just smells like me and you to keep—” Keigo clicked his tongue, sighing in what seemed like relaxation, “you safe. And mine. It usually ends up being just like... my entire apartment, lots of shredded pillows, feathers, blankets. It’s honestly a nightmare.”

A nightmare, yes, but a very necessary one.

So, a plan was made. 

 |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 Keigo sent you off to a hotel for the days leading up to his rut. He had to prepare, get things ready and he wanted to be careful not to trigger it earlier and risk ruining what would more than likely be his first proper rut. 

You took his lead, pampering yourself for a few days and letting Keigo handle the details. 

(Considering how wrecked your body was going to be in the coming weeks, it was more than smart to give yourself some time to rest.)

When Keigo called you to tell you he was ready, he was sounded elated, wings audibly flapping into the receiver. 

When you arrived back at the apartment, the ride up the glass elevator was daunting.

You were perfectly happy to help with Keigo’s rut, but you were a bit nervous about what he was going to be like. Though he reminded you that one of his hormonal brain’s functions was to ‘keep you safe’, it also sounded like he was going to be a bit out of his mind. You trusted him with your life, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t nerve-wracking. 

The elevator dinged, sliding open to the top floor. 

Keigo stood just outside. 

You couldn’t help jumping back in surprise, taking in Keigo’s... state.

He looked positively feral, just on sight. Though had been warned of this, you hadn’t fully expected how visible his state would be.

Keigo apparently decided to forgo any sort of a top today as his chest was entirely bare to you. A pair of grey sweats was slung low on his hips, likely put on in a rush based on the uneven settling of the waistband. This was not even to mention the very obvious imprint of his dick against the fabric, hard just from seeing you. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat, skin pink with rushing blood.

“Angel,” Keigo purred, yanking you from the elevator and crushing you into his chest, smothering you with kisses. Stray feathers flew to pick up your bags, carting them off to your nearby apartment. 

Speaking of wings—

In the few days it had been since you’d seen Keigo, his feathers had almost entirely changed. They were still their usual bright crimson, but the filaments of the plumage seemed to be almost... shiny? You couldn’t quite place it, but there had been some sort of change in their anatomy that made his wings appear iridescent when they moved. The patterns almost seemed to swirl and streak through the plumage. You wanted nothing more than to admire them.

Without thinking (or responding to Keigo, mistake), you reached out to grab one of the feathers, “Oh wow, Keigo, they’re so pretty.”

The moment you wrapped your hand fully around the plume, Keigo clawed his... talons (?!) into your shoulders, shuddered, and screamed.

You hissed as pain radiated from your shoulders, but managed to hold both you and Keigo upright as he twitched against you.

“Fuck,” He cursed against your neck, panting.

You felt a vague, wet spot on your leg.

You blanched.

“Did... you just cum? From me touching your wings?” 

Keigo nodded against, still shaking.

“S-sorry...”

The shame in his tone made your frown, pulling away from him to press a harsh kiss against his half-parted lips.

“Nope,” You murmured against his lips. “Nu-uh, you have nothing to be sorry about. I’m here to help, dummy.”

He sighed in relief, pressing into you.

It was going to be an interesting two weeks.

...

 The apartment was a nightmare. Keigo really hadn’t been lying when he told about how extreme nesting was. 

Notably, nothing was dirty. Keigo was actually an immaculately clean person due to his time with the Commission, but he was disorganized. And the nest of an apartment was testament to that.

There were stray feathers everywhere. Stuck in cupboards, tucked behind the TV, wedged in pillowcases and blankets, even a few under the bathroom sink. Newly purchased blankets and pillows were strewn over every surface. It appeared like you could simply fall in any area of the house and be entirely cushioned. Not to mention that Keigo’s feathers could sense every single motion in the house.

It was a sweet gesture and testament to the protective element of the rut that Keigo described. 

In addition to the many layers of softness, a new, far larger mattress had even been dragged to the living room and placed on top of a high frame set against the wall of windows that overlooked the city. It was heaped with pillows, fluffy blankets, and downy-looking, glimmering feathers. All of, despite its inherent chaos, was the comfiest looking corner of the apartment. 

“Oh, wow, ‘Kei,” You breathed, running a hand along a soft-looking blanket over the back of a chair. “You did such a good job!”

With that, he was pressed against you from behind.

“I... I did? You like it?” Keigo never asked for validation so openly. The implication of his inherent fear around his rut continued to make your heart ache. From what he had told you (and what you read in the days prior about avian behavior), you needed to ‘accept’ the nest he made for the two of you. 

I’ll make this good for him. 

“Yes, so much.” You leaned back against his chest, loving the way the heat of his bare chest seeped so well through your clothes, “I can’t wait to snuggle up with you in it and so much more.” 

Your last word was more than enough to get Keigo chirping into your ear.

Yes, bird-ishly chirping.

It was a mix of high and low clicks, maybe a bit of cooing thrown in as well. As far as his avian adaptations went, this one was newer to you, but remarkably cute. You turned around, pressing a kiss to his neck without thinking.

The contact made Keigo’s aforementioned talons dig into the meat of your hips, a hot breath rolling over your ear, “Please let me fuck you.”

It was abrupt, his shift in tone, but based on the way his cock was nearly burning your backside, it was a necessary step. 

“Well, I certainly won’t stop you,” You didn’t realize the unintended weight of your words, but Keigo sure as fuck did. 

He roughly grabbed your wrist, dragging you across the room to the mattress in the corner.

“W-wait, not the bedroom?” You asked. Keigo pressed at your shoulders, pushing you down roughly, though the softness of the bed dressings insulated your fall. 

“Nope, here, best spot,” Keigo’s words were clipped as he straddled your waist, silencing any other words you might have with a soul-sucking kiss. His tongue wormed its way into your mouth, licking at your gums and receding to suck at your tongue. All the while, you could hear and feel his feathers shudder.

He pulled away, eyes half-lidded and vertical pupils blown wide. 

“You have no fucking idea how much I missed you.” Keigo’s teeth nipped at your pulse point. 

Were... his teeth sharper?

You craned your neck away from him, pulling a nasty growl from his chest. You watched his feathers, both the one’s still fixed to his back and flared upwards and those scattered around, shudder and writhe. 

Keigo’s canines were longer, maybe even a little sharper. 

This rut thing... it was an avian thing, right?

Birds... don’t have sharp teeth... Do they?

 You dismissed it, much more focused on Keigo’s hand as it slipped lower, futzing with the waistband of your pants. 

“Sorry, dove, I’m a little impatient,” His voice was rough and strained, like he was holding back. 

His normally nimble hands struggled with the button of your fly, and with a nasty growl, he snatched up one of his nearby feathers, hardening it in an instant, and slicing your pants off.

“Keigo!” You shrieked, squirming, and sitting up as he tore off the ruined garment. “I liked those! That wasn’t nice.”

 “I think I’m done being nice to you for a bit, dove.” He shot you a dark look. 

You blinked at him.

Keigo had warned you that he would be a bit feral... but you weren’t expecting his nasty attitude. 

You also weren’t expecting to be turned on by the rage-filled spikes in his words. 

“Get on your hands and knees.” Keigo’s voice was clipped as he slipped off his sweats.

Holy.

Fuck.

Keigo’s cock was nothing to fucking sneeze at. It was pretty, long, with nice girth and a perfect curve for your pussy. He tended to keep his body hair well kept and groomed, an old remnant of the militancy of his youth. 

Oh, but ‘fuck you until you’re pregnant’ Keigo? 

His dick was a bit bigger, engorged with what had to be painful blood flow. Heavy balls hung below, ripe and flushed, in desperate need of contact, let alone release. Maybe it was the ambiance (or, the smell and pheromones unknowingly being inhaled into your endocrine system), but his dick looked immaculate. 

“Is your dick bigger, babe?” You asked, half-drooling in your mind at your lover’s cock. It certainly wasn’t hard to. 

Keigo normally would’ve clawed at the opportunity to schmooze you for stroking his ego so directly, but your current version of Keigo was far less into flattery.

“I said, get on your hands and knees.” He didn’t wait for you to reply, just flipped you onto your stomach, straddling your upper thighs. You yelped at the shock of sheets hitting your front, fabric tearing behind you as Keigo made quick work of your shirt.

You gulped as Keigo’s hands, talons, raked their way down your bare back as he let loose a loud, quaking sigh, “Oh, Angel, holy fuck.”

He said the pet name like it was a prayer to God and you let him. 

You shivered under him as his nails drew lines up your neck, all the way into your scalp. Without warning, he pressed the heel of his hand into the curve of your skull, shoving you deeper into the plushness of the nest below you.

Oh... Fuck. Were you about to sloppy fuck in the sheets you’d be spending the next several weeks in?

(Yes.)

 The somewhat gross revelation was quickly forgotten as Keigo’s hot breath shuddered against your ear, his (oh my fucking god slightly pointed?) tongue curled along the soft skin of your pulse point.

You both choked down a moan as his exposed cock rubbed against your backside.

“You’re so pretty like this,” For being feral, and for the blood that was quickly rushing to your head and sex, Keigo sounded very nice. “Gonna look so cute with my cock inside you, right?”

You nodded into the sheets, struggling to raise yourself up on your elbows as Keigo hauled your hips up.

Stabilizing yourself on the softness of the sheets and feathers was much more difficult than one would think. You were already slipping, no matter how you tried to hold yourself up.

“I can’t begin to tell you how much I want to fill you up, right now,” His voice takes on a dreamy lilt as he shoves you back, further into the nest. You crawl on your hands and knees, succumbing to Keigo’s hand on your neck after arriving to the middle of the massive mattress. “But, I also really don’t wanna hurt my angel. Gotta make sure you’re good and ready.”

The sentiment was nice enough, but you stiffened, remembering that Keigo’s nails were not only sharpened, but slightly hooked. You tried to turn, but quickly stop when you felt Keigo’s hot, hot breath over your sex.

You shuddered, biting your lip as his pointed tongue ran up and down your slit. From his hold on the meat of your thighs, you could tell he was trembling and burning. Whether it was from how much he needed you or how much he was holding himself back, you couldn’t be sure. 

Keigo’s pointed tongue ran up between the lips of your cunt, both of you moaning at the sensation. You felt his wings raise behind the two of you, casting shadows down on your display in some weird show of dominance. 

It made your skin run hot.

What made it run even hotter was the jolt you received Keigo pressed his face into your cunt with absolute zero shame. 

His tongue slicked up the lips of your pussy, dipping around your opening with absolutely sinful sounds falling around the two of you.

When you tried to adjust your arms, you caught a quick slap to your ass, pain only pushing your eyes to roll back in your head as Keigo sneered against you.

“Greedy.” It was a rich line, coming from him, king of gluttony, but you weren’t about to argue with him.

His nails dug into your thighs, dragging your cunt and his face together to the point where it felt like there was no space between them. You were helpless to do much other than grind back on his tongue as he tongue-fucked your cunt.

Keigo drew away, grabbing you by the hips and spinning you. Your back hit the nest, eyes spinning as you weren’t so used to him outright manhandling you. You sucked in a breath as you stared up at Keigo, his face slick with your juices and enlarged wings spread out and upwards. 

The slits of his eyes were blown wide, a toothy smile beaming down at you. It seemed sort of sweet before two of his clawed-fingers (thankfully, somewhat gingerly) spread the lips of your cunt. He spat onto your exposed clit, no reverie in his actions as his avian glare slipped over you.

A harsh clicking came from the back of his throat, feathers fluttering.

“B-Babe? Are you okay?” You asked as Keigo refused to look away from your splayed-out body.

“More than okay,” He shuddered, looking a bit more grounded for a moment. He swallowed, shaking his head.

Surprisingly, he reached out to cup the side of your face, rubbing a thumb over your cheek, “If you want me to stop, can you tell me now?”

“I don’t want to, Kei’,” You laid your words on thickly, knowing you had his lucidity. “Can you please fuck me? Fill me up, Kei’.”

He growled, something from deep in his chest, nodding, feathers shimmering in the light of the room.

He was on you instantly, wings flapping to shove his body into yours, lips on yours and tongue pressing into your mouth. The tapered appendage licks and literally fucks your mouth, robbing you of air as you weave your hands into his sweaty tresses and pull.

The pain spurred him on, one of his hands sloppily going between the two of you to line his fat cock with your cunt. He was considerate enough to rub circles on your clit as he rammed into your insides in one single motion.

Your eyes went wide, snapping open and you tug the bite of your nails into the back of Keigo’s head, held by the burning stretch and pleasant ache of your insides. 

Keigo had been fairly quiet during this entire ordeal, an odd thing considering he normally ran his mouth dry with praises, filth, and sweet nothings when he was half this close to your cunt. Yet, he’d hardly spoken through most of it, and most of your reading of him had been based on body (and wing language).

But, when he did finally bottom out, shaking and straining, it clicked.

Based on the sweat that was rolling down his temples, the veins bulging in his forearms, and the rigid tension in his shoulders, he was holding his rut-crazed body back.

You frowned, trying to ignore the kiss of his cock head against your cervix.

Recalling some of the things Keigo told you about some of his more animalistic desires, you decided to egg him on to breaking. Based on the rapid twitching of his wings, he needed it.

Keigo just barely moved, biting his lip and harshly exhaling.

“Baby,” Your own voice broke as you spoke, falling back into his mutant desires as well. “Please, please, fuck me how you need. Please.”

“S’fine, this is enough,” Keigo gritted out as he dragged his cock almost entirely out of your dripping cunt.

To emphasize your need, you grabbed a fistful of his feathers at the base of his wings and tugged, making sure to press your nails to the bone.

Keigo threw his head back, moaning high into the air, a coo mixing with the sound as his wings shuddered in your grip.

You buckled down. 

“No,” You whined, hooking your legs behind the small of his back, thumbing at the plumage as he writhed from your touch. “Fuck me, like you mean it, Keigo. Fill me up.”

He paused, freezing, eyes darting up to your own.

“S-say that again.”

You grinned, dragging his stiff neck down to your mouth, dragging your tongue to his ear, “I said I want you to fill me up. Stuff me full of your cum and breed me so good, please, Kei’.”

You’d never spoken like that to him during sex, and you quickly understood why.

The moment the words left your lips, Keigo slammed his hips back into you, wings fanning out as wide as they could. 

His lips found your neck, cock rearranging your insides with the immediate force and pace of his thrusts. His hands grappled at your hips, your tits, your shoulders, and your legs, anything to get to ram himself into you. Each thrust was punctuated by growls and clicks from the back of his throat, filthy words finally fell from his lips without a trace of shame.

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna breed you so good,” Keigo’s voice was breathy as he raked his nails down your neck, light lines following as he bottomed out in you once more. He roughly grabbed one of your tits, pinching your pebbled nipple. “Gonna make you gush for me, yeah, I am.”

You could’ve given an equally horny response, but Keigo’s tongue was quickly in your throat, groaning into your mouth as his pace picked up to something inhumane.

It was short-lived, the wet slapping of his heavy balls stalling as he damn near screamed into your mouth, coming deep in your throbbing cunt.

You shuddered, feeling his load already dripping from your cunt onto the sticky sheets below you.

Keigo’s lips parted from yours, half-lidded eyes looking glazed and dreamy.

You thought that nutting twice so closely together would slow him down, but you were remarkably wrong. 

You rolled your hips up, smiling, “Feeling okay, Kei’?”

Keigo blinked down at you, lowering his head to nose at your jaw. You tilted your head for him, spine curling when you felt him begin to move again, still fully hard.

“I’m not done yet.” His words were curt and sharp as his arms caged around your head. The sharp peaks of his canines caught on the skin of your neck, dragging and sucking. “Gotta make sure you’re fucked nice and good with my brood, dove. So good.”

You swallowed, eyes rolling back when Keigo bit down at the base of your neck.

Keigo’s hips slammed back into yours, his pace picking up and the squelching of your slick and his cum ringing around the room. You could hardly focus on it, or anything as he quickly threw your legs over his shoulders, moving his licks and bites to your calves and thighs.

Your clit throbbed with each thrust, wet and craving contact. When you reached down to play with yourself, Keigo swatted your hand away with a growl, a red feather from the bed replacing it. The small, soft crimson feathers lapped at your clit, making quick circles as it became wet with slick. 

With the hold on your legs, he hauled you upwards, your lower half lifted off the bed and held by only Keigo’s grip and the curve of your spine. You keened with each of his thrusts, listening to the wild words that spilled from his lips while he rammed your cunt raw. 

They were mostly incoherent, half-sentences about how he was going to ‘breed you until he’s shooting blanks’, ‘fuck you full with his brood’ and ‘reem you until you grew feathers’. Each phrase got your breath going fast, his grip and pace forcing your lungs to fill faster and faster. 

The feather against your cunt grew sloppier, nearly vibrating with its jerky movement. A well-timed swat to your clit by Keigo’s own hand while he talked about your ‘life-giving pussy’ was what sent you over the edge, cunt tightening around his cock. 

His words reached peak incoherency as he rammed into your cervix, spilling into you with a harsh wail, wings stretching upwards and bumping against the ceiling. 

You expected a moment of reprieve, but before you could even think, still spinning with your own orgasm, Keigo flipped you onto your tummy once more.

Despite signing up for this sort of treatment, your insides already ached. The friction of Keigo’s fat cock had stretched you perfectly, all for him, but the deep ache in your core was getting a bit distracting. This was not even mentioning how sore your muscles were getting, pulling from the pacing and positioning Keigo chose at whim.

You didn’t voice your pains, buckling down on your psyche (or, what you had left of it), as Keigo slid into you once more.

“Oh baby,” His voice was slippery as he wound his hands through your hair, pulling and forcing your back into a severe arch. “You feel that?”

He fucked into you harshly, the squelch that followed serving as a reminder of how he’d already more than filled you up.

“So pretty and round with my seed...” Keigo’s words got dreamy and slow, just for a moment as he smoothed his hand over your hips, “Just need to make sure it takes...”

The feather from earlier was back on you as he started up once more, babbling and flapping his massive wings as he fucked you numb. 

You came as he did the next time, your legs giving way under the pressure and sensation. Keigo was quick to tsk, two more of his feathers moving to hold you up as he started to move again, cock never leaving your spent cunt. 

The parts of your brain that were still working and not reduced to a pile of mush wondered how the fuck he was still hard, but all things considered, it shouldn’t have been surprising. Besides, he deserved to satiate himself properly, fucking your gushing cunt, considering he’d never gotten to indulge in his instincts like this before. 

Despite how you burned all over, you let him finish inside you yet again.

And again.

And again?

You lost count at some point.

Keigo apparently really liked you face-down, ass-up, and kept you like that as he fucked you full over and over again. After having his taloned-hand stuck into your hair holding you to the duvet and pillows for so long, your head was spinning. What made all of this all the more overwhelming was the small feather that never fucking stopped moving—

“Kei’, please!” You screamed, voice hoarse and dry. You’re spinning, aching, and yet you still want more.

Keigo’s pace increases, using his wings to rut against your cervix over and over. 

The tempo of the feather increased, Keigo’s growls falling away into his own shriek as he pushed forwards once more, hot cum spraying your walls all over again.

The sensations, all of them, pushed you over the edge, a shriek tearing from your throat as hot tears soaked the nest below. Your orgasm curled your toes to the point of pulling muscles, back bowing and straining as broiling pleasure swallowed you once more. 

Keigo might’ve kept fucking you after that, you couldn’t really remember. With the plumes of feathers under your knees, he could’ve and you wouldn’t have known.

Your body and mind were spent, trying to keep up with his appetite. Your eyes rolled back behind your eyelids, and lucidity was gone to you. 

 ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 You awoke to soft cooing sounds and the smell of sweat.

It was jarring, shifting the slightest bit and feeling aches and pains you didn’t even know you could have.

The cooing stuttered, falling into a chuckle.

Oh.

Keigo.

His rut.

Oh.

“Oh my god, Kei’, did you fuck me unconscious?” It came out almost as a growl, voice cracking and low. 

A hand carded through your hair as you opened your eyes, taking in the state of yourself, Keigo, and the nest.

You were both sweaty, sticky and smelling all sorts of musky. It was intoxicating, lulling you. It must’ve been those pheromones that Keigo had mentioned way back when.

Keigo had nestled you to his chest, wings spread behind him and shimmering. The windows outside showed only the neon of the city below, night having long since fallen.

He beamed down at you with a clear fondness, a lot of the tension gone from his body, and looking significantly less stressed. But, there was a sad quirk in his brow.

“Sorry about that, angel, I got kind of out of hand there,” Keigo replied sheepishly, smile turning a little sad. 

You frowned.

You couldn’t have him thinking that.

“Nope, no, not at all,” You pushed yourself on an elbow, wincing at the pain, but recovering to peppering his stubbly chin and cheeks with kisses. “None of that, silly. I am happy to help, whatever that entails. I love you, you know?”

Keigo relaxed even more, falling against the nest and pulling you to his chest, “You gotta stop being so sweet, dove. Gonna get me riled up again.”

You hummed, kissing the tip of his nose, “That’s more than fine, just rub my shoulders a bit first. I think I pulled something.”

He kissed at your sweaty hair, rubbing his hands up and down your sides, “I’m more than happy too, dove. Thank you.”

His hands met your shoulders, rubbing at the sore muscles, careful to avoid pressing his talons into the skin. 

You heard him say so softly, more to himself than to you, “I’m gonna keep you so safe.”

The grin that came across your face rivaled the sun in its brightness and honey with its sweetness. You melted into his touch, dissolving blissfully into the smells and feel of your nest. 

Keigo left kiss after kiss against soreness, cooing and clicking as his rut-based needs were more than met. 

For once.

[its-an-obsession]

Her Golden Hour

OBX Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Summary: John B Routledge was absolutely infatuated with you. He thought you were the most beautiful and smart girl he's ever encountered. Words cannot describe how in love John Booker Routledge was with you. Maybe he just needed a little bit of a push to take a step forward.

A/N: When I heard this song, I immediately thought of John B or Pope in a point of view sense. It was hard to decide, so I chose John B since I haven't written for him a bunch. Enjoy loves!

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/H/C: Your Hair Color

Warnings: mention of parent (father) leaving & disappearing

John B Routledge x-reader

(Third Person View)

It was a warm and bright Outer Banks evening. The sun was just about to settle above the horizon. Different shades of pink and orange filtered the sky with the just the right tone of gold. The Twinkie strolled down the street with Y/N Y/L/N and John B Routledge at the front.

The Y/H/C girl looked out of the opened window with her arm out, hand waving in the crisp wind. A smile rose on the girl's face with her eyes watching the seagulls fly. John B looked over at the girl he's grown to love. He smiled at the sight of her joyous expression. John B turned up the radio's volume as his favorite song began.

It was just two lovers Sittin' in the car, listening to Blonde Fallin' for each other Pink and orange skies, feelin' super childish

Just as much as John B loved Y/N, she loved him too. Both of them have been through a lot together: Y/N's father leave, the disappearance of Mr. Routledge, and the constant fight of territory against Kooks.

She would do anything for the boy. Y/N was always doing her best to make sure John B was alright and supported him in anyway she could. Y/N looked away from the window to spot the boy looking back at her.

"What?" she spoke with a soft giggle. Y/N brought her attention back to the beautiful scenery are them. John B went down another street towards the direction of Coral Cove, their special spot they visit when they had some time away from the Pogues.

No Donald Glover Missed call from my mother Like, "Where you at tonight?" Got no alibi

The beach ahead of them appeared to go on forever. A few rocks were scattered about the white sand. John B pulled up to the beach as usual and hopped out. Being the gentlemen he is, he opened the door for Y/N.

A few seconds of searching and they successfully found their spot. They laid down on a blanket that Kiara insisted the two bring. John B felt his phone vibrate from beside him. He tried ignoring the notifications, but his phone continued to make sound. "Who's that?" Y/N set her water bottle down, leaning it up against my tote bag.

He shrugged and grabbed the phone from beside him. John B rolled his eyes when he noticed JJ called him multiple times, probably wondering where they were; even though both Y/N and John B had informed the Pogues of the two's whereabouts. He hung up the phone when JJ began calling once more.

"You're not gonna answer it?" Y/N questioned.

I was all alone with the love of my life She's got glitter for skin My radiant beam in the night I don't need no light to see you

He shook his head and put the phone on silent before slipped it into the pocket of his beloved marine green backpack. She watched him as he leaned back. His arms propped himself up. "Why not?" she asked. "Not important," he answered, winking. When he looked at her, he thought he noticed the glow of the setting sun hitting her skin.

Shine It's your golden hour You slow down time In your golden hour

"I like it when you smile," John B complimented, "It's cute." Despite the setting sunshine, the blush on her face was still visible. He couldn't help but smirk to himself when he took notice of her reaction. She sighed in content when she laid beside him. They relaxed in silence as they remained in the presence of one another, complaining about work and retelling classic Pogue legends.

_______

(The Next Day)

We were just two lovers Feet up on the dash, drivin' nowhere fast Burnin' through the summer Radio on blast, make the moment last

A few hours after surfing and going on the boat, a good dance break an a bonfire at the chateau was greatly needed. Kiara and Y/N laughed as they jumped to the music blasting from the Bluetooth speaker. "She got solar power. Minutes feel like hours!" the girls shouted, "She knew she was the baddest, can you imagine fallin' like I did?"

For the love of my life She's got glow on her face A glorious look in her eyes My angel of light

JJ and Pope happened to glance over at their best friend who had been staring in awe at Y/N Y/L/N the whole hangout. The Y/H/C Pogue spun around with the biggest grin, her arms extended out. JJ nudged the love struck boy's shoulder, raising his brows.

"Oh, shut up," retorted John B, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

"We didn't say anything," Pope leaned in to respond to his friend's reply.

"Yeah, but your faces did."

He turned back to find Kiara twirling Y/N around, making sure she didn't trip on anything. Y/N looked over her shoulder to find him grinning, he smirked and quickly avoided eye contact with her (GIF Above). He stood up from the dark blue plastic chair and handed his beer JJ who took the last gulp. John B tapped Kie on the shoulder, "May I?"

I was all alone with the love of my life She's got glitter for skin My radiant beam in the night I don't need no light to see you

She grinned and gestured towards her best friend. Y/N felt the butterflies flutter in her stomach at the feeling of John B's arms wrapped around her body. The two stared at one another, smiling brightly. "Just kiss her already, dude!" JJ hollered with his arms up.

Y/N laughed and looked at her crush standing in front of her. Before waiting for John B to make the first move, she kissed him with the cluster of mental insects expanding. They could hear their friend's cheering at Outer Banks' new couple.

Shine It's your golden hour You slow down time In your golden hour

Taglist: @kasidy709 @soflties @elliecool123 @ramaalkayyali