#also this is not proofread so sorry for any mistakes

[madamedulac]

Betrayal.

Synopsis: A familiar set of purple eyes stared back into her own colored ones. But instead of happiness and joy crawling and bursting through her very core, all she felt was the utter and overwhelming feeling of complete betrayal.

Tags: sfw; ANGST; hurt; mild spoilers for homecoming wings ig?

Author’s Note: the mcs reaction to finding out caleb was still alive was lacking imo. so in order to appease my own annoying self, i decided to do my own take with that whole thing. this is my first fic after a LONG, LONG while so im sorry if it’s kinda ass lol. i’m also ESL so i apologize in advance if there’s any mistakes, i tried my best to proofread this.

Word count: 1.7k words

Ao3 / OST

There was a part of her that died that day. 

When that door closed in on her. When that explosion followed suit; its flame burned not only her skin, but so did the other half of her soul. She wished she also died in that fiery hell that consumed the only family she ever knew. 

But as fate liked to play a cruel joke on her, she was left to mourn and let the loneliness of surviving such tragedy comfort her in the nights their—his—memories haunted her dreams. 

The constant reminder of what she had lost laid consistently close to her heart. Its metal chains absorbed the heat from her skin, like it was alive, like it was his very heart that stayed close to her. 

『 When U Come Back. 』

Those were the words that are inscribed on its surface. It was a promise. A reminder that he will always return to their house, to their home, to her. He never broke his promise. She always reveled at that fact. He will always come back to her. That even if he was injured and crawling, he will do what it takes to return to his home.

In the sea of people that surrounded her on a day to day basis, he was the only one she could trust to keep his word. 

He was her only truth. 

“If you understand the situation, then let’s go ahead and have a nice chat.” 

The ringing in her ears was deafening but so did the loud hammering of her heart within her chest. Standing before her was a familiar face. Yet the warmth that was always flickering and present in his eyes was gone. Instead, what she saw in those purple irises was a coldness that she was unaccustomed to, at least when it came to him. 

“… Caleb?” His name left her lips before she could even comprehend it. 

Instead of giving her a reassuring smile like he always did, the man frowned. “Show some respect to the Farspace Fleet’s Colonel.” He said in a strict tone. 

Colonel. 

A title she had never expected to be bestowed upon him. It was so imposing. So daunting. So not him. This man in this intimidating uniform and glaring at her with a coldness she has never seen in his face could never be her Caleb.

There was no way. 

She wanted to say more. She wanted to ask him if he really was Caleb. To ask why he looked like her Caleb. But the words were stuck in her throat and the mixture of confusion and suddenly being hyper aware of where she was made her press her mouth in a thin line.

“There’s more than one pair of eyes observing you in this room, so I suggest you watch your mouth.” The man wearing her childhood friend’s face said. She immediately caught on to what he was implying and her eyes darted to the camera behind him. 

There was an ache that was slowly forming in her heart but she pushed it aside and opted to hide it behind a wall.

It was like a switch had been flipped. The distress that marred her face seconds ago was replaced with a blank one. She bravely stared back at the imposing figure before her. 

The doctor who examined her when she was small called it a coping mechanism of sorts. It is her own way of keeping everyone at arm's length when things get overwhelming. Even Josephine was not immune with how she quickly shuts her emotions down and hides away in her little corner.

But there was only one person who was an exception to this rule.

Someone who she could always confide in. Someone who she was not afraid to tell how she truly felt and never fear any judgement whatsoever. Someone who she knows would whollfully accept her, irregardless of her character flaw and her ever so changing moods. 

‘And that someone is already dead.’ The voice in her head whispered. 

The way the Colonel’s eyes twitched at her sudden change didn’t escape her but the woman merely overlooked such detail.

That is not him. That is not your Caleb. The voice reminded her. 

“Let’s get started then,” the man walked closer and grabbed the gun that was hanging on her hip. “This is both an interrogation and a thorough inspection. If you understand that then answer me.” He said as he threw the gun to the nearby table. 

“I understand, sir.” She replied, almost robotically. In a sense, this mission was indeed perfect for her. There were probably only a few within the hunter association who could turn off her emotions as quickly as she does. 

The expression on the Colonel’s face was unreadable as his fingers latched onto the necklace that was hanging around her neck. The frown was still there, but there was something else that was brewing behind his purple irises. 

“… it belonged to someone from my childhood.” She didn’t know what prompted her to talk but the words were flowing out of her mouth before she could realize. “He died in an explosion. Like the one in the Cascade District.” I miss him. She bit her tongue before she could utter those last three words. 

His eyes once again found hers and she saw a flash of emotion that almost made her believe this could be the same person who she gifted this necklace to.

But he was not.

She told herself he was not.

After all, he would be last person to ever betray her in that way. Her Caleb would never make her believe he was dead and let her suffer through that grief alone.

Never her Caleb.

The woman merely balled her hands in tight fists so that her resolve wouldn’t falter. 

That is not your Caleb. 

The succeeding interrogation came almost like a blur. She barely remembered the questions that he asked her. The ringing in her ears was loud and deafening and her answers were practiced and calculated. She had always been good with bullshitting her way out of things. It worked on most people. It worked on Josephine. It worked on her friends. 

But there was always an exception to that rule. 

That is not your Caleb. 

“This is your last chance.” He said threateningly, pointing the device closer to her throat. He called it a Mood Tracker but she wouldn’t be surprised if it was a device that could easily severe the artery on her neck.

The Colonel might kill her. That was such a frightening thought and she doesn’t doubt it. Not for a bit.

Steeling herself, the woman kept her eyes glued to the man. “… I don’t know anything.” She replied. She lied.

The device continued to beep loudly and seemed to reach its peak before it was subtly cut off the person holding it. His thumb pressed on the switch swiftly, practiced, and would’ve easily missed by anyone not standing close to them.

“You passed.” He declared.

Behind him, the camera made a clicking sound before it completely shut off.

The cold expression he wore melted away and suddenly she found herself looking at the familiar warmth that had surrounded her all throughout her life.

A breath escaped her mouth as the man straightened his posture and the restraint on her wrists was loosened. “… You.” Was all that she could utter.

Smiling, he tossed the Mood Tracker next her discarded gun. “Surprised?” He said, seemingly unaware of the emotion that was rising up her throat. Or perhaps he did saw it and was very much aware of it. Perhaps he was just refusing to acknowledge it. He was never the type to miss any emotion that she wore on her face. “Sure it’s been a while, but you already forgot about me?”

And suddenly, the mask that she wore all throughout that interrogation broke.

A pool of tears had quickly formed in her eyes and blurred his image, of this man, who she had been convincing herself to be not the same person she had mourned for the past year.

This man…

She heard him say her name, worry heavy on his tone. She almost wanted to laugh. But the tears were not stopping. “Did I scare you?” He asked as he held her face in his hands.

It felt rough. The leather gloves felt foreign in her skin, almost like it was mocking her. His touch as she remembered was warm and comforting. Like the touch of the summer sun after a heavy storm. That was what he was to her. Her summer.

That was the Caleb she remembered.

She wanted to laugh. To scream. To punch this man who wore that expression she was so familiar with. But no words were forming on her tongue.

All she felt was an indescribable anguish. Of pain. Of pity.

Pity for herself.

For that woman who stood by his grave and let the rain soak her entire form, hoping that it somehow gives her bleeding heart the comfort it so desperately needed. For that woman who clung onto his remaining set of clothing and held onto it until she fell asleep, hoping that it would be him cradling her the moment she wakes up.

Her cries echoed loudly inside the interrogation room but she no longer cared.

Perhaps, she thought, it would annoy him or his subordinates and they finally put a bullet through her skull. Perhaps that would’ve been ideal. Perhaps with death, it would finally end this nightmare.

She heard him say something but the sound of her broken heart and the heaviness of his betrayal made her deaf to his words. She wanted to push him off, to punch him, to spit on him.

But the reality of what he had done weighed heavy on her body, rendering her unable to form any coherent thought.

She didn’t protest when he hooked his arms under her knees and carry her off the chair. He swiftly maneuvered their position so that he would be the one sitting down and her being closely held on his arms. It was almost like an instinct when she curled closer into his touch, like she wanted to be one with his skin. To be one with him.

He smelled so familiar.

So like her Caleb.

“… you traitor.” Was all that she could managed to whisper in anger.

She felt his grip on her arms tighten but he didn’t say anything. Merely nuzzling into her hair and pulling him even closer into his chest, like he was scared to lose her.

“You traitor…” that was all that she could say.

———

a/n: happy valentines y’all. can’t believe lads and caleb managed to get me out of my retirement from writing. smh. sorry if this is lacking, it’s genuinely been a while since i wrote something. wwww

[rafeandonlyrafe]

your duke

words: 4.7k

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of having children, duke!rafe, 1800S au, royalty au, probably a lot of incorrect era things but idk! bear with me yall, maid!reader, implication of noncon but it is not actually described, r*pe aftermath, poisioning/murder, assassination plot, kinda angsty but happy ending, slowburn ish? i fell in love the way you fell asleep, slowly and then all at once

you are humming to yourself as you wipe down the surfaces off the room, collecting the nonexistent dust on your rag before turning your attention towards the bath, filling it with hot water, anticipating the dukes return.

you move onto the bed next, filled with extravagant silks and embroidered blankets. you make it perfectly, erasing any evidence that it was slept in only for the duke to create a mess when he comes back to his chambers.

you know you should feel lucky, getting to work in the palace with one of the kings closest friend and advisor, but it's tedious maid work, barely worth the couple gold coins you get at the end of every day.

you don't realize that the duke has entered until the door slams shut behind him, making you jump up, eyes wide as you turn and give him a quick bow, keeping your head down.

“good evening, duke cameron.”

“evening.” he addresses you back after a moment, allowing you to rise. you have to hold in a gasp, you always forget how beautiful the duke is.

“i filled the bath for you, sir.” you gesture your arm towards the bathroom. “i will take your garments for cleaning once you ready.”

“thank you, y/n.” the duke says, making your eyebrows rise. you have only been working for a couple weeks, and only recently got reassigned to the dukes room. you introduced yourself only once, and certainly expected him to instantly forget your name.

you watch as he goes behind the thick curtain into the bath, entering only when you hear him sink into the warm water with a satisfied groan.

you keep your eyes on the floor as you step around the corner just long enough to grab the clothing off the floor before fleeing with a bow to clean them.

you head to the lower levels of the palace, smiling at the other help that you see as you head towards the laundry room, quickly cleaning his clothes before hanging them on a line meant specifically for the duke.

“on your way back up to duke camerons?” the voice makes your back snap straight, turning to look at mrs. peregrine, her name living up to her hawkish features, a stern old woman but one to be admired for running the entirety of the background of the palace, coordinating maids and assistants, even running the kitchen with an iron fist.

“yes ma’am.” you nod.

“the king has requested that he receives a personal assistant.” she says, looking you up and down with a disapproving look in her brown eyes, so dark they almost appear black.

you wait patiently before she sighs. “my goodness girl, im offering you a promotion.”

“oh!” you raise your eyebrows, not expecting to move through the ranks so quickly. “yes, ma’am… what does being a personal assistant include?”

“you will bring up his meals, take requests and fill whatever he needs and… keep him satisfied.” you immediately understand the implication there, letting out a quick nod. she almost looks sad for a brief second before her features harden again. “get his dinner tray from the kitchen and bring it up immediately.”

you rush to the kitchen, grabbing the tray indicated for the duke. you hurry up the stairs, but are careful not to spill the plates loaded on the silver platter.

“dinner, sir.” you call with a knock, glad when instead of telling you to come inside that duke cameron opens the door for you. you set the tray down at his dining table. you wonder what the palace chambers of the king are like when a dukes looks like this.

“are you my assistant then y/n?” rafe asks, sitting down as you stand at the other side of the table, hands clasped together, waiting, but you're not sure what.

“yes sir.” you nod quickly. “anything you wish i am… here to serve.”

“are you hungry?” he asks, making you scrunch your brows together.

“what?” you know you shouldn't question what the duke says, but you surely must have heard him wrong.

“are you hungry? the kitchen always gives me more than i could ever eat.”

“oh- i- i am fine, sir. thank you.��� you say, but your traitorous eyes betray you as you look at the food, bread smothered with butter, steak dripping with juice.

“no more with the sir, please.” he waves his hand. “makes me feel like my father. just call me rafe.”

you let a light laugh slip. duke cameron-rafe is remarkably young to have risen to the ranks so quickly. some even believe he is who the king will appoint if he doesn't produce an heir.

“and come sit down.” rafe kicks out the chair next to you. you step closer, easing yourself down into the wooden chair.

rafe takes one of the plates and loads a few things on it before setting it in front of you with one simple word. “eat.”

you're not going to argue with duke, and the meal is no doubt the most extravagant that you're ever going to get to taste, so you begin to eat, eyes widening when you taste the warm bread, so unlike the old stale loaf you get for cheap from the market.

rafe looks satisfied when your finished, pushing his cup of wine towards you to finish off.

“thank you, s-rafe.” you both smile.

“it's my pleasure.” rafe says, standing up and moving to flop down on his bed, placing his hand on his stomach. “so much good food.”

you bite your tongue, resisting the urge to say that there are people right outside the palace walls starving.

you quickly collect all of the silverware before placing the serving tray outside of the door to take back down to the kitchen later. maybe you'd even be able to sneak some more food now that you have access.

“what else can i do for you, sir?” you ask, looking out the window as the sky darkens. you wonder when you'll be dismissed now that you're an assistant to a duke, not just a lowly maid.

“come here.” he calls, eyes now closed as he lays on the bed.

you move quickly, putting your shame to the side. you know what is being requested of you now as you step to the edge of the bed, looking down rafes body until you are staring at his crotch. your hands reach cautiously until you cant wait any longer, grabbing the hem of his pants.

the dukes eyes pop open, pushing your fingers away. “what are you doing?”

“i-i am so sorry, sir!” you take a step back before sinking to your knees, bending your head down. “i thought you wanted to receive your… your nightly pleasures.”

you keep your eyes trained on the plush rug, but you can hear that rafe has moved to stand directly in front of you.

“you are not a whore.” his words are harsh for a moment, but then he kneels down next to you, his fingers touching under your chin and forcing you to look up at him. “i do not expect you to do anything for me that you do not want to.”

“sir, it's included in being your assistant.” you explain.

“i will not ask you to do anything lewd, understood?” he asks, holding your eye until you nod.

“you… you are a good man.” you say, letting him take your hand to help you stand, your dress falling back around your ankles.

“if only.” he looks into the distance for a moment before shaking his head. “you're dismissed.”

“yes sir.” you lower your head, rushing out of the room.

-- two weeks later --

“would you ask the kitchen for chicken today?” the duke asks as you adjust his outfit, quickly learning his tastes as you fold his collar down.

“roasted?” you question, smiling when rafe shakes his head.

“and make sure you tell them i want lunch too.” you know exactly what the duke means. he will no doubt be eating with the king, but he wants you to get food from the kitchen for yourself. you would refuse, but it gives you something to do as you wait around in his chambers, waiting to be called on.

“yes, sir.” you nod before leading him to the door, opening up the door with a bow as he goes to yet another meeting. he seems to always be involved. you don't know his personal politics, but from the way he treats you, you're sure he must be a good man.

you spend some time cleaning as you wait for rafe to return, as well as getting lunch and wandering the hallways, seeing how far you can go without seeing anyone.

you are relieved when time rolls around for you to draw a bath for the duke, excited to see him.

the door opens as you turn with a smile. “good evening, rafe. how was your day?”

“busy.” he admits with a sigh. you can tell he looks tired. “is the bath ready?”

“yes, sir.” you say, not able to always resist the formalities.

rafe nods, walking past you but not before laying a hand on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze as a thank you, like he is too tired to even say the words.

you wait to hear the water before stepping in to get his clothes.

“y/n.” rafe says.

“yes sir?” you ask, keeping your eyes cast downward.

“would you… would you massage my shoulders and head? please.”

“of course.” you drag a stool towards the edge of the bath, glad to see the water is still steaming, no doubt relaxing rafe. you keep your eyes firmly away from lower down his body as you rub over his scalp and shoulders, working out the kinks in his neck.

you're almost sure that rafe has fallen asleep as you continue to massage, unable to resist as you lean in and take a small inhale, smelling his unique scent that is near intoxicating. you wish his room smelled more of him and less like you, it seems like he never gets to relax unless it's to sleep.

“why are you always so busy, sir?” you ask seriously. “the other dukes spend half the nights on the town and the other half at their summer houses. you work yourself to death.”

“for good reason.” he simply says. you sigh, you're not going to get anymore than that.

-- three months later --

“would you go to albion with me?” the duke asks, your eyes widening as you almost choke on the perfectly buttered biscuit you have in your mouth.

“of course!” you nod. “ive never left the city before.” you long to see the countryside, and even if you are going as an assistant, you would never turn down the opportunity.

“never?” he raises an eyebrow. “not even as a child?”

“no.” you shake your head. “i had to work ever since i was a young girl.”

“it's a shame.” the duke says. “you aren't like the others…”

“what do you mean?” you question, taking a timid bite of the roast chicken.

“like the people i see sleeping on the streets. you have manners, you work hard… you're beautiful.”

you can feel your cheeks blush bright red. “why thank you.”

“this is when you pay me a compliment back.” he smirks, using the charm he is so well known for.

“you are… very handsome.” you say before taking a quick sip of wine.

“come on, anything specific?”

you know exactly what you are going to say. “your eyes.” you quickly attest. “they're… they're enchanting. i imagine they are what the sea looks like.”

the duke smiles, blue eyes sparkling like the sun reflecting off the waves, and you swear you could melt right there in your seat.

-- one week later --

“is this your first time in a carriage?” the duke asks as the coachman reaches his hand out to help you into the small enclosed area.

“yes.” you nod, taking in the plush seats before sitting down, rafe sitting across from you.

“im glad i get to show you this then.” rafe says with a light smile, opening up the windows to allow you to look out as the horse begins to clop through the city streets.

you watch with excitement as the cobblestone roads turn to dirt and stone paths, brick buildings being replaced by rolling hills, crops, and distant farmhouses.

you chat with the duke throughout your travels, his smile growing whenever you point out something out of the window, loving your excitement when you come across a heard of cows, or cross over a wooden bridge.

“i want to show you everything.” rafe mumbles unders his breath, realizing in that moment how deep he is in.

its only a few more hours before you arrive at albion. your duties are much the same when at the kings palace, retreating quickly to make the dukes room just as he pleases, even adjusting the pillows to how you always find them in the morning.

you explore the help areas of the albion manor, glancing into the various rooms as you learn the layout, since the duke does intend to stay for two nights.

“exploring, are we?” rafes voice makes you jump as you turn suddenly.

“please excuse me.” you bow down when you realize duke cameron is with the duke of albion.

“is this your wife, duke cameron?” he asks, looking over you and your curtsey.

“why, no.” you can tell from rafes voice that he is delighted by the question. “though you would never guess it, she is my maid.”

“such a gorgeous maid.” you can hear them step closer, but you keep your head turned down until the duke of albion clears his throat and you stand.

you can see that rafes face has changed from a smile to cautious displeasure as the duke looks you up and down, a jeer taking over his face.

“she is a wonderful maid. a great conversationalist, too. she rode the entire way in my carriage and i was not once bored.”

“can she dance?” the duke of albion asks.

“ask the lady yourself.” rafe turns to look at you, nodding encouragingly.

“i have not danced since i was a child.” you say, keeping your voice quiet and soft. you know that there are dukes out there sick on power, and you're not sure the duke of albion is one of the good ones like your duke cameron.

“well, we must change that, shouldn't we duke cameron?” he turns to look at rafe, who nods. “invite her to the ball tomorrow night.” it's all he has to say before walking away. you let out a breath of relief once he turns down a hallway.

“you don't have to go to the ball if you don't want to.” rafe says as you begin to walk towards his room. you stay a step behind him like a proper maid. “i will make up an excuse for you if you wish, but…” rafe pushes the door open, allowing you to enter the chambers first. “if you want to don a pretty dress and arrive on my arm, i will not deny you the chance.”

“i would love to. as long as i only have to dance with you.” you can't imagine being passed off to random men.

your duke smiles at you before nodding, setting down at the dining table, where food must have been recently delivered as he portions some out for you.

“where are you to sleep?” he asks as you begin to eat.

“i visited the helps chambers already, i will sleep in a cot there.”

rafe frowns. “a cot? that is unacceptable.”

“it's just as nice as the one i have at home.” you admit with a casual shrug.

“you do not own a bed in your house?” rafe questions. he's never thought too much about your living situation before.

“i rent a room.” you say simply. “i don't even have a house or a whole apartment to myself.”

rafe is quiet until you're both done eating, seemingly deep in thought.

“you are sleeping in the bed tonight and i shall sleep on the settee. and we shall find new living arrangements for you when we return to the palace.”

“sir-”

“there will be no arguments.” he says, with a tone of authority you've never heard before. your mouth zips shut.

--

“im afraid im going to be sick.” you press your hand to the front of your dress, a soft pink fabric that must be more than your entire yearly salary for just have the material of the gown.

the duke of albion sent a few different options. they're clearly old dresses from maybe his wife or other manor women. you even made an attempt to do your hair rather than just pull it back into a bun or braid like you often do.

“you look beautiful.” rafe squeezes your hand. “and you have nothing to be nervous about. i will not leave your side.”

rafe waits for you to nod before stepping through the doors. he would turn back and take you back to his chambers if you were truly too nervous, social consequences be damned. rafe couldn't care less about his place in society, not when he knows he's been written into the kings will to take over the crown if he doesn't produce an heir with his wife before his death.

you're glad people are paying more attention to rafe than the women on his arm as he leads you around the room, greeting people and introducing you simply as lady y/n, not mentioning that you are his maid and assistant.

you watch a few dances with fascination, the twirling skirts of the women far more appealing then the men.

“want to try the dance floor?” he asks, squeezing your hand gently.

“yes.” you say honestly. you weren't sure, but to look into rafes eyes while the band plays is too tempting.

rafe leads you towards the center of the room, thankful the dance has already been done once, as you mostly remember the moves as he leads you through it, a wide smile on your face.

-- one week later --

“is everything moved?” rafe asks as he enters the room, eyes widening when he realizes it's been completely stripped, even the curtain separating the living area and bathroom has been taken down.

“yes.” you nod. “mrs. peregrine said there is no one else moving into this room, so.” you shrug. you feel a little sad about leaving the chambers that you've grown so close to rafe in, but he himself requested a bigger chamber. he must not ask for much, because the king quickly accepted his request.

two beds. you walk up one more flight of stairs to the newer bedrooms, family chambers for those who live inside the palace with their children, or for those who will have their maid live with them like rafe.

“no more cots for you.” rafe says as you enter the room. you can't help yourself, tearing up when you see your bed. yours. 

“good tears?” rafe confirms before pulling you in for a hug. the touching may be frowned on by society, but you find comfort and familiarity in his hold, having grown so close over the past months.

--

you are humming softly with a smile on your face as you bring down rafes laundry, the last task for the night before also retreating to your bedroom.

“y/n.” mrs peregrine says, her hawk eyes landing on you and the bundle of clothing in your arms.

“yes ma’am?”

“the king has requested a new maid for the night. he wants someone young. go.”

it takes a second for her words to process before you realize what she's asking for.

“i-”

“you can go back to duke cameron in the morning, he wants someone new for the night. go. now.”

you drop the laundry, considering running. either out of the palace or back to rafe, but mrs. peregrine follows behind you like she can read your thoughts until you're standing in front of the door to the kings chambers. you can hear lewd noises from behind the carved wood, the golden handle gleaming.

mrs. peregrine grabs and turns it before pushing you in.

“ah, a new one!” the king grunts, a mess of bare skin taking up the massive bed. “get over here!”

--

“where were you?” rafe asks, grasping your shoulders the second you enter the chambers, the morning sun not even rising yet, having fled the second the kings head hit the pillow.

you open your mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a loud sob as you lean forward, burying your face into his chest. 

“shh, shh.” rafe wraps his arms around you, letting you cry into his chest as his hand strokes gently up and down your back. “i got you. you're okay.”

he leads you over towards the beds, bypassing your own and taking you to sit on his, arms still holding you comfortingly.

“i-i had to go to the kings chambers.” you swallow thickly, glad you don't have to explain any more as rafes face turns to one of anger.

“the king disrespected you. he disrespected me. and he disrespected his wife. something will be done about it.”

you're not sure what your duke has planned, but you trust him.

--

rafe watches with anticipation. he planned to wait another couple months, to build up the tolerance of the kings food taster to the poison he's been slipping in, but after what you were subjected to, he will wait no longer.

every meal the taster ate outside of testing the kings food has had slowly increasing amounts of poison in it. he hadn't quite reached lethal yet, but rafe hopes he will at least last long enough for the king to eat before showing any signs of sickness.

rafe watches with anticipation, barely touching his own food as the taster tries everything. a bite of mashed potatoes, of chicken, and so on before nodding and passing the plate to the king.

he's too cocky for his own good, not even waiting for a minute to see if the taster has a bad reaction before eating, sure that he was too untouchable.

rafe hides his smile when the kings face turns pale, sputtering before falling face forward into the mashed potatoes, knocked out dead.

--

the palace is in an uproar. you were waiting for rafe to return to the chambers from his dinner with the king and other dukes when someone bursts in.

“the king is dead. duke cameron is now the king. come now.”

you hesitate before they rush out of the room. your feet move before your mind does, rushing after what you must assume is an advisor.

you hear loud crying, desperately sad, heartbreaking screams as you're lead to the kings chambers. your eyes widen when you see the former queen being dragged out, mourning with loud sobs the loss of her husband and title.

“king cameron is waiting for you inside.”

you walk in, surprised when the door swing shuts behind you. you look around the grand space, not having truly taken it in the time the king had you brought in.

“rafe-” you run to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he's stood near where the bed used to be. it must have been his first order, to have the very bed you were disrespected in taken out of the chambers. you hope it gets burned.

“i did it for you. for us.” rafe holds you close as it sinks in. rafe killed the king.

“i want you to be my queen.” rafe pulls away to look you in the eye. “i want you to be my wife.”

“i-” 

“the former queen is pregnant. hopefully with a boy. we will rule until he is 13 then vacate the throne. we can go to the countryside, i can give you the life you deserve-”

you cut rafe off by pressing your lips against his. he hesitates for a split second before kissing back, holding you even tighter to him.

“id be honored to be your wife.” you whisper against his lips. “i love you.”

“i love you so much.” rafes tongue slips into your mouth, distracting you from thinking too hard as he kisses you, your bodies turning warm as he leads you towards the couch, laying you down on your back as he hovers over you, not allowing your lips to seperate.

“we will…” rafe gasps out, pausing his words to kiss you again. “we will rule. we will amass wealth. we will retire with our money to the countryside.” rafe squeezes your waist. “we will have as many children as you want. none, if you want. anything for you, my soon to be queen.”

“i never thought id be able to have kids.” you sniffle. “you've given me so much.”

you reach up to take rafes face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs over his cheeks before pulling him down for a kiss.

“i love you.” you kiss him over and over. “i want you.”

“now?” rafe looks down at you. “are you sure?”

“yes, please.” you kiss him again. “replace my bad memories with a good one.”

rafe moves slowly, carefully undoing your dress until you're in just your underclothes. he continues to kiss you before turning the attention to himself, taking off his layers until he's in just underpants.

you run your hands up and down over his chest, lifting your hips as he tugs your final layer off.

rafe pulls away from the kiss to look down at your body. a smile spreads over his face before slinking down the couch he grasps your chest in his hands, cupping your breasts.

“i should have had them bring in a new bed first.” he chuckles, pressing his hips down into your thigh, allowing you to feel his length through his underpants.

“i need you now. please.” you whimper out. rafe smiles, unable to keep the grin off his face since his plan succeeded and he finally admitted his feelings to you.

“you never have to beg me for anything, my queen.” rafe says, pulling his final layer off. “you're never going to go without ever again.”

you feel tears well in your eyes as rafe lines himself up with your entrance, sinking deep into you as you both moan out. 

“i love you.” you whisper again, needing to tell him as many times as you possibly can.

rafe presses his lips over each over your eyelids, kissing away your tears.

-- 14 years later -- 

“it's everything i imagined and more.” you smile to your husband, having just returned from the tour of the vast gardens.

“nothing but the best for you, my love.” rafe spent years looking for the perfect retirement property as the new king grew up until he was of age to take over the title.

you push the hair back out of rafes face, admiring his features. there's a few increased lines on his face from the age and the stress of the crown, but the twinkle in his eye is all the same.

“i was thinking once we settle down here i will take you on a vacation to see the ocean. then we can get started on making those babies i promised you.”

“why not start now?” you smile, turning towards your bedroom as rafe quickly follows behind, the halls filling with warm laughter, much to the staffs relief, glad to have a happy couple as the new duke and duchess.

rafe closes and locks the bedroom door behind you, the curtains and windows open, letting in the clean country air, so different from the city that you've finally escaped.

“how many babies do you want?” rafe asks, pushing up the bottom of your linen dress up to reveal that you aren't wearing anything underneath, much to rafes appreciation.

“hmm.” you hum out as rafe tugs his pants down. “two boys, two girls?”

“i like the way you think.” rafe smiles, pressing a kiss your lips. “my queen. you'll always-” another kiss. “be my queen.”

taglist (please let me know if it doesnt work idk why people arent being notified): @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @sourkittie @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @raysmayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut @drewsephrry @1aarii1

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part two

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: implied sexual content

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 2.5k

You weren’t sure what woke you at first but when you opened your eyes, you found the brilliant, early morning light that streamed through a crack in the curtains. Groaning, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, not missing the unmistakable rustling of clothes somewhere at the foot of the bed. 

Peeking over the sheets to the source of the sound, you found Ale working to put her pants back on, her bare back to you. You propped yourself against the headboard as you watched on, biting your lip at how Ale’s tattoos deliciously shifted over her rippling muscles. She picked something up from the floor before she turned towards the bed and you caught sight of the darkening marks on her neck and chest. When she saw you looking at her, she smiled, a little bashful, which you returned in kind.

“What time is it?” You cringed at how you croaked out the words.

“Early. You should go back to sleep.” Ale said, putting her bra on as she kept your gaze.

You hummed. “I could say the same for you.”

Ignoring what she said you sat up on the bed, allowing the sheets to slide down and settle by your waist as you stretched. Ale’s eyes wandered to your chest which, you supposed, bore the same marks you could see on hers, and you relished the attention. Once she found your eyes again, you sent her a knowing smirk before you left the bed, headed to the closet where you grabbed the nearest fresh shirt you had, and tossed it to Ale. 

Without even looking at the shirt, she caught it with ease. You raised your brow, both in question and in wonder. In response, Ale just smiled innocently at you. Ale pulled the shirt over her head, hiding the marks from view, then she moved towards you, her eyes dark and shining with intent.

Your body remembered last night’s endeavours before you did: every nerve in your skin lit up in anticipation for Ale’s touch, a fuse waiting for a spark. She laced an arm around your waist and pulled you flush to her front with a strength that left you breathless, her clothed body firm against your bare flesh. Without your heels she almost towered over you that you had to stand on your toes to wrap your arms around her neck. You closed your eyes when you felt the words she spoke against your temple.

“As much as I’d love to stay, I have to go.”

You sighed, unable to hide your disappointment. But what did you expect? You knew what you were getting into last night–you knew this was meant to only be a one-time thing. Besides, you were never one for relationships anyway; all your dalliances were brief and fleeting, ending before they ever got serious. Still, something about Ale pulled you to her, a force that compelled a desire to get to know her. The logical part of you already accepted the fact that you’d probably never see her again after this, but a small part of you wanted to rebel and resist that fate. 

Unsurprisingly, logic won out.

“I shouldn’t keep you, then,” you whispered against her collarbone. Ale shivered and that made you smile: it’s good to know you weren’t the only one still feeling the effects from the previous night.

“You’re not making this easy,” she whined and you laughed. 

“Alright, alright. I guess it’s time for me to let you go.”

There was a moment of silence but not an uncomfortable one. You looked at her, soaked in how her features caught the morning light, how her fair hazel eyes almost appeared like twin golden suns. You were tempted to kiss her lips then but you settled for a chaste one on her cheek instead. “Keep the shirt, to remember me by and��� a thank you for last night. It was wonderful.”

“I had a good time, too,” she hummed, a small smile on her lips. 

You returned her smile, and then you gently pushed her away as you took a step back. “Go, Ale.”

Ale stood there for a moment more, took one last look at you, gave you one last smile and she was out of the bedroom. When you heard the front door shut, you sighed again as something akin to regret settled in your bones. Maybe you should’ve at least asked for her number…

“So… did you have fun?” A deep voice filtered through the speaker before you saw the familiar mop of blonde hair and blue eyes on your screen. You rolled your eyes at his dry tone but you smiled nonetheless.

“Oh hi, Derek, I’m doing fine! Thank you for asking!”

Derek gave you an unimpressed look. “Come on. I need details cause that club was exclusive for a reason. So, did you hook up with someone?”

“Dude, stop! That’s so–” you shook your head, a palm over your face. You swore if he wasn’t family you would’ve… you breathed through your nose. “Thank you for the pass and everything but I’m not obligated to tell you shit.”

“Fine, I see how it is. Just ‘cause I’m not there you’re keeping secrets from me now, huh?” He raised an exaggerated eyebrow. 

“Then maybe you should’ve come here with me,” you retorted with faux annoyance. “What’s the point of you owning a house in Barcelona if you’re not going to use it? It’s literally rotting here! The fact that you haven’t even put any personal things in here is criminal!”

“And let this agency burn down to the ground while both of us are away? Pfft, yeah, right!” Derek scoffed. “You know it’s either you or me who can keep watch around here. Besides, the house can wait and you’re using it now, right? So, a win-win in my book.”

He was right but you weren’t about to tell him that so you opted to change the topic. “How are things on your end anyway?”

“Chaotic, as usual. And it doesn’t help we’re now down two–actually, three including you–of our best in the Spot News department.”

At that, you sat up from the couch, alarm and dread filled your body and you brought the phone closer to you. “Oh my god, did something happen?” 

Derek sighed heavily, his demeanour clouded over as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was Jones and Gilda–they’re stable, don’t worry!–they got caught in a flash flood on the way to the base at their area. Sick with some minor injuries, Jones more so than Gilda, but thankfully they’re both okay.”

At that, you breathed out in relief. You were well acquainted with the dangers that came with your job but you could never get used to how quickly a situation could get from bad to worse. The mere thought was enough to turn your hands cold. 

“When did this happen?”

“Early morning today in our timezone.”

“Oh, fuck. Derek, why didn’t you call me?!”

“Dude, you’re on leave. And it’s not that I didn’t want to let you know, I just wasn’t about to wake you up in the middle of the night to give you this headache. I’m just about done with the paperworks anyway.” A moment silence, then Derek sighed. “You really chose the worst time to go on leave. You know, I had to send Jersey to start covering Spot.”

“Not my fault you authorised it. I was happy to wait another month, remember? Wait, so if Jersey is doing Spot, who’s doing Sports?”

“I know, I know, don’t remind me ‘cause I’m already regretting it. And no one’s doing it. Spot coverage is more important but–”

“–we get a decent sum from Sports, too,” you finished for him. You did some quick estimation in your head: a month or two without Sports could prove costly, too great of a sum to let go. You hummed, rubbing your chin, but it didn’t take you long to realise that you could help out, your mind immediately fleeted to your conversation with Ale and her suggestion.

“I’ll cover it, Derek.”

“No. You’re supposed to be enjoying your leave–”

“Derek.” You fixed a stern gaze at him, the one you knew that he knew meant your mind was made up. Then you proceeded to reassure him that it was fine, and then you told him about your plan. “Alright, then, I’ll leave the press passes to you.”

“I’ll e-mail them to you once I get ‘em, most likely by tonight your time. I–” 

“Derek, you got to see–” Another voice filtered through the speaker while you watched as Derek turned his head to the side and held his hand up to whoever it was before returning his focus back to you.

“Okay, as much as I’d love to keep talking to you, Robert just brought me a huge stack of paper so I’m going to bail.” 

“Alright. Have fun, you. Talk to you later.”

“Ha ha, very funny. But seriously, thank you.”

“No worries. Kiss Mom for me when you see her.”

“I will. Love you, sis.”

“I love you, too.”

After calling Jones and Gilda to ask about their condition and to send them your well wishes, you decided to spend the rest of your day at the nearby square and the beach. A day as good as this wasn’t meant to be wasted by staying inside so you grabbed several rolls of film and your beloved Leica camera before heading out. 

It was already late afternoon when you found yourself trudging along the shoreline of one of Barcelona’s beaches, appreciating the orange-tinged skies and how the gulls called from above. When you looked to the horizon, you found a mother and her little daughter paddle-boarding just a hundred meters from the shore. You could see almost no details in the shadows of their silhouette but the large setting sun framed them in such a way that you felt to take a shot of the moment. So you adjusted your aperture accordingly, pressed the viewfinder against your brow, lined up your shot, and pressed the shutter.

“I thought you looked familiar… And I was right.”

Your thumb froze over the advance lever when you heard someone speak from somewhere behind you. That voice… could it be?

You whipped your head over your shoulder and found none other than Ale standing there. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts, a white opened blouse that put her toned abs and Nike sports bra on display, loose hair slightly damp, with a leash in one hand that lead to a small, fluffy dog. She also had on a pair of black wraparound sunglasses that she moved to the top of her head, revealing her hazel eyes that captivated your gaze immediately.

You could hardly believe your eyes and your luck; you already accepted her fleeting presence in your life but to meet her again in a city as big as Barcelona without any means of contact… that surely was nothing short of a miracle.

“Ale, hi! I–I never thought I’d see you again,” you said after you finally found your voice but as soon as the words left your mouth, your cheeks warmed. What were you supposed to say to a one night stand in this situation, especially when you clearly wanted it to happen again?

“Me neither. I should thank Nala for dragging me out here.” Ale grinned as she glanced down at her dog by her feet. You crooned as you bent down, then you offered your hand first and only after Nala licked your knuckles did you proceed to pet her.

“Thank you, Nala, for taking your owner for a walk.” At that, a hearty laugh came from Ale which caused Nala, who seemed to be overjoyed by the sound of her owner’s delight, to yip and wag her tail. And just as quickly as she had, she seemed to get bored and began to bound forward, urging Ale to move as well so you stood up, brushed the sand from your palms, and fell in step with her. 

For a moment, the space between you was filled by the sound of the waves, the sound of the shifting sand beneath your feet, and the ever-bustling noise from the city. Then you recalled your conversation with Derek this morning.

“I thought about what you said, about covering women’s football. I’m going to be given a press pass for a match, not sure which one they’ll give me, though. But do you know of any big matches coming up?”

“Really? That’s great! Do you have any particular team in mind or…?”

“Research is still on my to-do list so no, not really. I’m all ears for suggestions, though.”

“I see. Well, there is this match coming up: Real Madrid and Barcelona. Since you don’t know, there’s rivalry between the two teams so any match between them tends to get crowded. You should come watch.” 

“That sounds like a good one. I hope that’s what they’ll get me into. Will you be there?”

“I hope so, too. And yes, I’ll be there.” As she said this, her eyes shone with a glint not dissimilar to what you saw in them the night you met. Her lips tilted to the side, closed but quirked at the corners like she was holding in a laugh. If it weren’t already clear that night, it was now–you were definitely missing something here.

“What?” You asked, confused. What was she not telling you? But at the question, Ale only let out a small giggle, grinning as she did so.

“Nothing, nothing,” she said, shaking her head. You didn’t believe her but you let it slide one more time and the fact that she looked so distracting didn’t help either.

She had her head turned to you, her loose hair framed her face and strands fluttered in the cool, ocean breeze. You had to tilt your head up slightly to meet her eyes and, without any bidding, memories from that night and the morning after filtered through your mind: the way she held you against her, the way you wanted her to stay… maybe you should ask her if she was free tonight.

“–what do you have in mind?”

You blinked. “What?”

Ale threw her head back, letting out another hearty laugh before she looked at you and you saw amusement swimming in her eyes. Then, she continued with a smirk, “you asked if I was free tonight. I said yes. Or… was I not meant to hear that?”

Your ears and cheeks burnt while you internally cursed your slippery tongue.  That was smooth. Real smooth. “Ummm…”

You woke the next morning with a delicious soreness between your thighs, a pleasant reminder of the way Ale ravished you last night. Similar to the first morning after, you heard the rustling of clothes being put on. But before you could fully open your eyes, warmth from Ale’s lips branded the skin on your shoulder. 

“I have to go. See you next time?” Ale murmured softly. You shifted slightly to the side and you saw how the sunlight behind her gilded her hair with an amber halo and made her eyes appear like molten gold. 

Brushing a loose strand behind her ear, you hummed in confirmation and pressed your forehead sleepily against the sharp line of her jaw, closing your eyes as you did so and you whispered, “you know where to find me.”

[toasted-buguette]

Into Your Own Hands

Summary: Ryis decides to pine from a distance in order to be a better wingman for March. The farmer has other ideas.

Ryis is many things: A son, a brother, a nephew, a pretty good woodworker if he were to say so himself. A friend, and he tried to be a good one. 

Ryis is also in love, although he would desperately like to not be. 

Mistria is, despite its constant activity, a very small town with a very close knit community. It’s one of the things that made him love it there, that and the quiet that let him hear birdsong with more clarity and variety. Everyone knew each other and everyone had some manner of bond that had existed for at least a year or two, so it made sense that the arrival of a new member of the community would spark interest in everyone. Ryis wasn’t exempt from this, after all the last time someone new came it was him, but he liked to think himself a little bit chiller about it than some others.

Chiller than March, he means.

March is, as much as he likes to hide it, a pretty good guy underneath all his bluster. He just doesn’t like change, when Ryis first moved in it took March a week to stop sulking and talk to him. It was only once Friday came along and Olric dragged his brother to the inn that he and Ryis actually got to have a conversation and that (Plus one or two of Hemlock’s drinks) was all it took to spark a friendship that would surely last a lifetime. Because besides being craftspeople and their mutual adoration of Mistria and its citizens, the quality Ryis and March shared in the highest quantity was their loyalty. 

Which is why Ryis can’t acknowledge his growing fondness for the new farmer. 

You see, after the earthquake a lot of things needed repairing and the citizens of Mistria needed a distraction, so a new face was just what the town needed. Ryis, on his part, was eager to welcome the new farmer into town, after all he knew better than anyone what it was like to be the new member of a well established community. Besides, he knew they would be working together on the myriad of reconstruction projects, so it was only natural that they get along outside of work. It helped that they were very easy to get along with. 

March, as is his wont, was not as receptive to this newcomer. No one was surprised when any conversation with him eventually led to him grumbling about the no good farmer who was only here for their own gain and totally wasn’t going to last the season. Ryis, at least, was surprised when these grumblings continued past the first week of the farmer being there. 

After all, the farmer went to very great lengths to talk to everyone frequently, March included, and usually once he got to know someone he mellowed out at least a little. But no, it seemed that March’s ire only grew with every attempt to make peace the farmer made. Ryis tried to reassure them that March would warm up to them eventually, (He had to, they were just too charming even for March to hate for long), but his reassurances could only go so far when March seemed to go out of his way to antagonize the farmer. It wasn’t until late spring that Ryis found out why March was being so… like that. 

For all his guardedness it only takes a couple drinks to get all of March’s walls to crumble like a termite infested fence, and once they did the blacksmith was the most open book in the world. There was no such thing as secrets with drunk March, so Ryis got a front row seat as March got to rambling about the farmer once more, and it instantly became plain as day that March’s blush that night was not caused by the beer. 

Ryis couldn’t remember a time March was ever so enthralled with someone. He sat there and listed out Ryis’ thoughts verbatim about how interesting and capable the farmer was, how helpful and hardworking, and Ryis realized two things simultaneously.

One: He was developing a crush on the farmer.

And Two: He could not, under any circumstances, let it continue to grow.

When was the last time March was so enamored with anyone? When had he ever been this animated when talking about something that wasn’t made of metal? March had always been a happy drunk but this was beyond anything that Ryis had ever seen from his friend and he wanted desperately for that happiness to continue.

So he resolved himself to try and help March realize the feelings he had while he was sober as well as pushing the farmer in his direction whenever possible. It was easy for Ryis to ignore his own feelings, at first, after all the farmer hadn’t been there long and was always running around going who knows where to do who knows what. Out of sight out of mind and all that, and when they were not out of mind Ryis could always find a project to take his mind off them for a little while. And when that failed to work he could always tell himself that once their novelty wore off so too would his unfortunate crush.

And then the general store was ready to be remodeled and all that flew out the window. 

Unlike with the bridge Ryis couldn’t do the whole thing alone in a single day, and aside from his uncle (Who he loved very dearly and wanted to enjoy his retirement as much as possible) the only person qualified to help was the farmer. So the two of them set to work and Ryis tried very hard not to think about how every time their hands touched when exchanging tools a shock would go up his arm and send his heart racing, or how every so often he’d look up from his work and see them so deeply focused that he fell just a little deeper in love. 

That, he thinks, is what finally broke the dam and now when he aims the farmer in March’s direction (Because he still does, because he loves March) it is accompanied by a horrible pang in his chest that he knows he’ll never be able to get rid of. 

‘It’s fine.’ He tells himself. He’ll make do with what he can get and he’ll blame the work on why he’s so flushed every time he joins the farmer on a project and when March can finally admit to himself that he doesn’t hate them Ryis will look on as two of his favorite people can freely admit their love for eachother and it will be because of him and maybe the ache in his chest will get a little easier to live with. 

The next time he sees the farmer, Ryis wants to hide in his scarf. They’re sweaty and out of breath and he can tell why when they hand him a stack of hardwood so big he wonders how they fit it all in their bag. They smile so wide when he accepts it and their face makes him want to melt. That doesn’t stop him from inviting them to the shop, of course. After all, it's hot and he can’t move all of that himself (he can) and wouldn’t they like to sit down and cool off for a second after all that work? Really it’s the least he could do after everything they’ve done for the town (for him). 

And now they’re alone in the shop and the wood is all put away and Ryis would talk about all the projects he has planned for it except the farmer makes it really hard for him to think and of course Landen is gone and can’t distract the farmer from him so they’re just watching him stammer with those intensely beautiful eyes of theirs and Ryis realizes a little too late that he said that last part out loud. 

Mortified, Ryis looks away and it takes him a minute before he can bear to take his eyes off the pile of sawdust they landed on and return them to the farmer. The sight that greets him when he does is not what he expected; The farmer is staring at him with a sort of half-smile and did they get closer? Their face is definitely closer to his than it was when he looked away. He bashfully tells them that he’s sorry and they should probably forget what he said and after a second they say that maybe they don’t want to. Maybe they gave him all that hardwood because to them his smile is the prettiest thing in the whole town. 

And every plan Ryis ever made to play matchmaker for March goes in the trash because hearing that makes his heart stop and when the farmer kisses him it is the most right anything has ever felt. And soon they’ll have to leave because it’s late and their chickens are still outside and then Ryis will have to grapple with the fact that he just kissed the person his best friend is in love with but for now none of that matters because after a season and a half of pining and pushing his feelings down it feels like he can finally breathe. 

And as the farmer leaves, trailing promises to see him soon behind them, Ryis revels in not having to dread their next meeting any more.

[coastalwatch]

Judgement Day

Sort of a fanfic? Except I consider this a canon event, but I'm using @zero-sum-ghoul's OCs (with permission) (you can also find their own TKDB fics at @tkdb-hell), so... uhhh just forget about the classification and enjoy. Also a brief mention of @silly-string-guitar <3

Only warnings are for Violence.

Word count: 1.5k

Jo still has her hand raised in a goodbye to Zero even as his back's turned and he's walking the path back to Sinostra. It gradually lowers the further away he gets until he disappears. And then her friendly smile drops with it.

Ryunosuke Mitsurugi. A general student in her house. And a dead man when she was through with him for what he'd done to Zero.

She stomped her boots in the snow and trudged past the Frostheim gates to walk the path up to the veritable palace that housed the ambitious and the wealthy who made it into the academy. The glint on the snowflakes is knife-sharp in the bloodied red sunset.

The spires of Frostheim's dorm look perfect for impaling someone's head. Jo smiles on the inside, but outwardly she feels as if her very face has frozen into a displeased shape, lips carved down and eyes deep with her brow furrowed.

Each step Jo takes up every flight of stairs leading to the student dorm rooms is measured, balanced. Snowflakes dust her fur coat, occasionally dropping a crumb trail on the rich carpets.

Jo likes a good, drawn-out punishment most of the time. The long game is so much more thrilling. Or so she had thought, as the thrum of furious adrenaline mounts the closer she gets to the room she's after. If she's not careful, her breathing will get too heavy too quickly and anyone watching would know she has less than innocent intentions in her stride.

She keeps seeing the way Zero paled when she mentioned "the Frostheim guy" and her nails pinch the soft skin of her palms. It's not about Ryunosuke. I mean— he's old news, right? Said too quickly.

Jo's jaw is clenching so tight it's beginning to create a headache. A shaky sigh, followed by, Okay, fine. Maybe I... think about that sometimes.

She catches sigh of the twig in carefully tailored Frostheim uniform to hide how unsightly he is—maybe Zero once saw something in this guy, but Jo always thought he was ugly, through and through. His face is too delicate, too pretty. She wants to see it break.

Get bored? Her step quickens despite herself. Or realises... I'm not good enough? Jo's lips part in a vicious smile. I'm just... me. Ryu catches sight of her on his way to his own room. What if I mess this up?

I don't wanna make the same mistake twice, you know?

"Ryu!" she calls cheerfully, gripping the back of his collar as she drags him into a tight embrace. He's spluttering as she scans the hallway, watching the rest of the students disappear around a corner. Jo makes a show of playfully spinning him to sweep the other side she came from. No one. Perfect.

"Come here, you." Jo kicks the door to his dorm room open and drags Ryu inside before bodily thrusting him away from her, so she has time to lock the door. "We need..." Click. "...to have a little chat, you and I."

"What the fuck—" Ryu begins to demand, reaching for her. His hands never touch her.

Jo's shifted her weight, maintaining perfect balance as she boots the guy in his diaphragm. She lands her foot gracefully, watching with cold, opal white eyes that gleam with sick satisfaction as Ryu folds to the floor, clawing at the carpet to regain the ability to breathe.

When he's up on his knees, wheezing and looking like he's about to start speaking, Jo seizes his hair to bring his face down on her own knee before throwing him aside. Ryu rolls into a set of drawers, groaning.

Her eyes light up at the sight of blood streaming from his busted nose.

Jo shrugs out of her coat and then takes off her white button-up shirt, bundling it inside the furs so she doesn't have to go through the effort of any cold washing or bleach later. Now, she's left in a tank top, revealing what only Seiya here has seen, strangely enough—jagged scars littering her arms and shoulders, shifting over rippling muscles.

Jo grabs Ryu's collar and lifts him up. It's easy with ghoul strength, but she's almost certain she could have done the same when she were human too—the guy's almost as skinny as a model addicted to heroin from the 90s, and before she was anything or anyone else, she was a farm girl from Australia first.

"Listen up, you fucking cunt," she says, voice low and gravelly. "Can you hear me?" Jo barely gives him time to whine before one of her hands yanks his head back by the hair. "Can you fucking hear me?"

"You crazy bitch!" Ryu shrieks. "What the fuck is wrong with you? The hell did I—"

Jo hauls him up so he's airborne for just a second before she slams him to the floor. She thinks he might actually be crying, the way his breath shudders as she stands up and tosses her hair back over her shoulder. She lays her boot lightly over Ryu's head. "Now, why don't we try that again?"

"I didn't do anything, I swear, I swear, I didn't—" When her boot starts to press down, he cries out, "No, wait! Is— is this the money? Did Lucci send you? Te— tell him this is all just— just a big misunderstanding. I, I, I have the money, I'll just sell my..." Ryu's pleading dissolves into whimpers.

Jo's lips curl with distaste. "Ugh. You're fucking pathetic. I've put down horses that don't make as much noise as you," she complains, though the sounds actually rile her up into more of a frenzy.

And yet, there wasn't too much opportunity for release. This guy's human after all, and a wimp. He can't put up much of a fun fight, and if she goes just a little bit over, she knows she could kill him. It'd be too easy. Despite this being a revenge, ending Ryu feels unearned. He totally deserves to die, she believes that, but he doesn't deserve the privilege of dying by her hands.

"Wait, wait," Ryu gasps as she raises her foot, ready to kick his teeth in for a hefty dentist bill. "You're— you're Jo Waker, right? Zero's little guard dog? Did he send you?" He laughs, and it sounds desperate. "What— whatever ever he, ha, told you, you... you've got the wrong idea, I promise. Just let me explain."

"Zero doesn't know." Only suspects. "And you're not gonna tell him if you value your life, asshole." Jo rears back to stomp him... when he catches her foot. When she's fallen, she's confused. Then Ryu's a blur rushing to the door. "Oh no you don't, you fucker, get the fuck back here!"

She's on her feet in just a jump and barreling into him so he crashes into the door, unable to quite reach for the lock with his arms pinned. Jo wraps an arm around his neck and drags him across the room as he struggles uselessly.

"Just—ugh, quit flailing—just behave." Jo releases him and he whirls around. She beckons him with a flick of her fingers, come fight me, dammit.

Ryu, like an idiot, only shakes his head. "I'm not hitting a woman."

Jo rolls her eyes before nailing his broken nose with a jab, followed by one punch, another punch, and a right hook that sends him spinning. Ryu's howling, half-sprawled across his bed and getting blood on the icy blue sheets. Jo shakes her hand out, watching as the guy slides off the bed and collapses to the floor.

Jo crouches down by his head. "Even after I broke your nose, you wouldn't hit me? Are you thick? No, don't answer that, I know you are. You broke Zero's heart, after all. That's why I'm here. 'Cause I don't tolerate cunts that think it's okay to fuck up my friends' lives. It's messing with his confidence to get with guys way hotter than you. And I can't stand that shit because I know he's a fucking beautiful man, inside and out. So, I decided you gotta pay for messing with him." Her expression is stormy as she says, "You disrespected Zero, Mitsurugi. You disrespected me. And I hope you rot in hell for having worse principles than a killer."

Ryu only groans, eyes fluttering shut as trails of tears glisten down his face. Jo kicks him harshly in his side—once, twice, three times—listening to the symphony of his wailing as she collects her coat, unlocks the door, and steps out of the room.

There's only one other person in the hallway who looked like they were just trying to get to their own room in peace. Jo shuts Ryu's door behind her with a wink to the other student. "The boyfriend and I had a bit too much fun. I'm letting him sleep. Don't worry, I'm still in the process of putting my clothes back on."

The poor student just hurries on while Jo buttons up her shirt, leaving it untucked and just throwing her coat on over top. There's blood on her knuckles. Jo stuffs her hands in her pockets and walks away, a weight off her shoulders. Sorry, Zero, she thinks, glancing out Frostheim's windows. I'm not as nice as you.

[14dayswithyou]

The gang at Disney headcanons?

Ren He'd secretly want to go on all of the fast paced, thrill-seeking rides and haunted attractions; but he'll stay by your side and go on all the rides you want to instead. Ren will pay for you, and you only — everyone else has to supply their own ticket and money to buy food, drinks, and souvenirs. He also won't let anyone else sit next to you and will 100% take up the entire seat if necessary jdhgjhds

Moth They're with you in spirit! Right now, Moth can't afford to travel abroad just to go to Disneyland T_T But if they could, they would prefer meeting the Disney cast and taking pictures with them! It might even give Moth ideas on who to cosplay next.

Violet She'd want to check out all of the attractions and landmarks! Lots and lots of photos are taken that day, and she'll happily go dressed (vaguely) as Kida Nedakh if you wanted to dress up as well ^^ She also somehow keeps getting seated next to Teo on all of the rides, and it takes everything in herself not to unscrew his safety harness every time.

Elanor One of the only two who actually has a plan for the day ^^; She has the entire map memorised and the most optional route from A to B fully panned out. El is usually the type to bring her own snacks, sunscreen, and spare hats for everyone; and greatly prefers to stand to the side and wave at the gang while they zip past on all of the rides.

Conan Designated Dad™️ of the group and the other one with a plan. Conan is probably the one who carpooled everyone to and from the airport/hotel, and will most likely be the one who drives everyone back to Corland Bay. Like Elanor, he's more than happy to sit on a bench while everyone else has fun. He'll wear the Mickey ears if you put them on him — but only if you share your photos of the characters to his phone later (so he can show them to his daughter!)

Jae Bee lines straight to the bumper cars and the closest water park with you (and by extension - Ren), Leon, and Teo in tow. He's the one that gets chewed out by Elanor for not waiting half an hour to finish his churo before swimming, and also the one to buy cute little Disney accessories for Maple. Jae probably won't go on any of the rollercoasters, but he'll happily go on all of the teacup rides!

Leon Happily goes along with whatever you have planned! He doesn't really have any expectations or desires, though he does find the thrill rides/rollercoasters especially interesting. Would probably be the one going on the drop towers and laughing his head off while Jae is screaming for dear life and Ren is stone-faced next to him.

Teo All of the little kids will 100% mistaken him for Gaston, so you have to be the one to pull him away before he starts swearing and saying vulgar phrases. Teo probably prefers going on the scary rides just to watch your mortified expression and have someone cling to his biceps. He'll also sneak off into the restricted zones for fun, so make sure to keep an eye on him (or ask Elanor to).

Olivia Only came along because she won free tickets from a raffle. She situates herself next to Ren and Teo always, and gets a bit irked whenever Ren follows after you like a lost puppy instead of her. Olivia would want to try all of the different foods and get a souvenir to remember the day by! She might also ask you to burn any embarrassing pictures of her from all of the fast-paced rides.

Kiara Doesn't mind paying for everyone, and is most likely good friends with the hotel manager at the place you're staying at (so you knoooow you're getting good rooms!!). Would likely be trying all of the foods with Olivia or taking photos of flowers for her mood-board/fashion inspiration folder back in London. Secretly buys matching cellphone charms for herself and Elanor. If you catch her, she'll most likely buy one for you too.

[yerrenica]

OMG I really loved your yi zaha content . Can you please make a fluff oneshot of him

[Y/N] has a problem, you see. It is a very big, very difficult problem, and it involves one raven-haired martial artist and the fact that their heart beats a tad bit too quickly when news of the man reaches their ears. Or when the man talks to them. Or when the man—

Whenever Jaha Lee was in a 10-meter radius, really. 

See, this was an extremely large problem, because Jaha, like the bastard he is, was becoming too much of a distraction for them. 

How was he being a distraction, you ask?

Well, [Y/N] would be happy to rant tell you. Firstly, whenever there was a commotion outside, [Y/N] would instantly get distracted and just have to check whether or not it was Jaha creating trouble again, which was a far cry from before, back when they just went about their days not caring about a thing in the world.

And another thing: the colour red was associated with Jaha far too much. A flash of red could appear in the corner of [Y/N]'s eyes, and they just couldn't help but glance at it to see if it was the man, and ignore the sag of their shoulders when they confirmed it wasn't. It wasn't fair, really. Jaha shouldn't be going around spilling blood everywhere. His violent tendencies didn't do good things for [Y/N]'s heart. 

...

[Y/N] lied. Jaha shouldn't stop. Jaha's fighting abilities were too attractive.

And there exactly lies the problem. Jaha's sword skills were beautiful, Jaha himself was beautiful, and [Y/N] had no choice but to confront a problem they weren't ready for; to answer a question that they had absolutely none of the answers to. 

[Y/N] blinked, going through their train of thought once more before they pursed their lips, feeling a sort of second-hand offence for what they had just thought. Jaha wasn't just beautiful. Honestly, [Y/N] could look through a thesaurus and they still wouldn't be able to find a word good enough to describe Jaha and how perfect he was. 

[Y/N] sat in his chambers and stared blankly.

Before they knew it, they held a thesaurus in their hands. 

Then they slammed the book against their head without hesitation.

Oh my god, they were so screwed.

After a few moments of [Y/N] laying flat on the floor with the book over their face, the doors to their chambers burst open, and in comes Hongshin with her signature smile. "Dinner's rea— what are you doing?" She stared blankly at [Y/N].

"I might just challenge Jaha to a death match."

Hongshin sighed. This wasn't the first time she stumbled upon [Y/N] dramatizing the hell out of their feelings for Jaha. "Absolutely do not do that, you idiot." She moved to grab her friend by the arm and drag them across the floor to the dining area. Along the way, they kept talking about how being killed by Jaha Lee would be a "thank you" worthy act. Hongshin, of course, decided to tune it out.

Once there, [Y/N] stood up with a deep exhale and sat down. They looked around, noticing that their Master was nowhere to be seen. "Where's Jaha?"

Seongtae chimed in. "Said he wanted to eat his dinner outside or something."

And just like that, [Y/N] was back on their feet, setting off to look for Jaha. The first place they thought to look at was the roof—you could always find Jaha cultivating there, and it was a nice and chilly place during the evening. Once they did not find him, they thought of the plum blossom tree residing near the training grounds. Jaha frequented it a lot, so surely he would be there.

And he was; looking far more beautiful than he should have... given his messy hair and bad posture. He was sitting under the tree, with a bowl of rice in hand, eating away with a nonchalant look on his face. The chilly evening wind gave him an almost enchanting appearance as it tousled the man's hair. The pale stars were sliding into their places. The whispering of the plum blossoms was almost hushed. All about them it was still and shadowy and sweet. It was at times like this that [Y/N] felt their difficulties about having feelings for Jaha melting away and getting weaker to the warmth that they brought. To be able to look at someone, and see them as one's own world was a pleasant feeling. It made one forget about the real world for a brief second.

"You're staring."

"You mind?" [Y/N] asked as they went to sit next to Jaha, legs crisscrossed.

With a mouth full of rice, Jaha mumbled. "No. You look cute."

"What?"

Swallowing his food, he turned to look at [Y/N]. "I said you look like a sack of shit when you do. So yes, I do mind."

There was silence.

"I should start spitting in your food, great brother. More cholesterol would do you good." [Y/N] scoffed, eyebrows furrowing as they looked away from Jaha, focusing their gaze forward.

Jaha's hand, which was moving the chopsticks to his mouth, stopped for a moment. He pursed his lips. That was not what he meant to say. He did not mean it at all. It simply came out on instinct. The moment he heard [Y/N]'s words of confusion, it was as if his mind registered it as disgust and acted out in self-defence. And now there was an awkward silence between them.

He glanced at [Y/N], observing their sullen expression. Why on earth was this bothering him so much? When did he start caring about little things like this? These questions irked the crap out of him, but maybe that's just what happens when you live long enough. Everything's so damned irksome, and irrational.

Finally, he brought the chopsticks to his mouth. "Do that and I'll kill you." His eyes furrowed as he chewed, realizing what he just said. Why on God's green earth was he threatening them now? Did he have any control over his mouth? He felt like screaming.

Quickly, trying to regain control of his words, he blurted out. "And besides, aren't you way too close to me?"

"That's because I'm this close to shoving my fist down your throat." [Y/N] muttered, glaring at Jaha, their appearance resembling that of an angry cat. Now this was strange as well. Jaha didn't feel disrespected, not in the slightest. Rather, he felt amused, thrilled even to have [Y/N] talk to him like this.

Nobody could tell whether they were flirting or fighting right now.

"Oh, I'd love to see you try." Jaha urged them on, leaning in closer as he smirked, his bowl of rice now seated beside him. [Y/N] observed him momentarily, before a smirk graced their features. With swift motions they placed their hands behind them on the concrete, and moved their upper body slightly up, their leg going for Jaha's throat. Their movements were quick and precise, and only because Jaha was Jaha did he evade them, leaning back just enough to let [Y/N]'s leg miss him entirely. Pressing their body weight on their hands seated behind them on the concrete, they did a backflip, now standing up before Jaha with a wide smile.

"Dodging? That's all?"

Jaha smiled slightly, and in an instant he found himself behind [Y/N], reaching out his hand towards them, but to his surprise, they ducked before leaping further away from Jaha.

"Now look who's dodging."

"It's more shameful for you since you're supposed to be the leader of this sect, great brother." [Y/N] held their hands behind their back, snickering at the sight of the slight contortion of Jaha's eyebrows. "But regardless... aren't you missing something?" They moved one hand from behind their back, revealing Jaha's red hair tie draped over their fingers. Jaha's eyes widened slightly, his hand instinctively moving behind his head to touch his hair, only to realize that his hair was swaying freely behind him. He focused his gaze back on [Y/N], who was standing before him with a triumphant smile.

His heart skipped a beat.

"How did you..."

[Y/N] chuckled. "It'd take hours to explain."

Jaha would listen to them for hours.

He quickly moved his feet, reaching for the hair tie in [Y/N]'s hands, only to see their hand move away from his reach, and their entire body along with it. Their robes being rocked by the subtle waft made each of their moves seem elegant, which spurred Jaha even more. This wasn't a serious battle. It was not a showcase of strength; it was more of a dance being guided by the swaying winds. Each of their movements through the roofs of the place, the branches, and the bases guided their bodies closer to each other in a chase of longing. This was never about the ribbon, but combat was the language they spoke the best, so how else would they ever showcase their desire for one another?

Their gazes locked as they moved with precision. Jaha always wondered what crossed their mind whenever they looked at him in such a candid way.

"Great brother, is the food you ate slowing you down?"

A flicker of amusement danced in Jaha's eyes. "I'm merely humouring your fickle attempts at evading me." His body was close to theirs as they moved on top of a roof, his chest meeting [Y/N]'s as Jaha moved his feet quicker, purposely placing a foot behind theirs so they'd fall over on their back, but Jaha was quick to catch them, his hand placed intimately over their back as he gazed into their eyes.

It was the beating of their hearts that made it seem as though time stopped. Jaha's free hand rested on theirs, sliding the ribbon past their fingers. "Caught you."

A single question ran through Jaha's mind. Why them? Why after all these years, after two lifetimes, after hundreds of people met, did he fall for them? Why not for all the others? What made them so different from everyone else before them?

But it was simple.

Why would he choose anyone else when [Y/N] exists?

Seeing the slight shift in [Y/N]'s gaze, he wasn't certain whether it was disdain or reciprocation of his unspoken feelings, so he decided to pull away, steadying them back on their feet as he shifted his gaze to the side.

"Good effor—"

Before he could finish speaking, [Y/N]'s hands were cupping his face, and his gaze was turned back on theirs.

"What a coward." They said through flushed cheeks and slightly furrowed brows. Their lips met his in a tender kiss. Without much thought Jaha's hands found themselves behind [Y/N]'s back, pulling them closer. He touched them, and it felt as if the stars were dancing upon their skin. It was a collision of desire, a meeting of souls, as their mouths moved in a synchronized rhythm. Their kiss was both tender and fervent, a passionate dance of exploration. They lost themselves in the intoxicating taste and texture of each other as if discovering a long-lost treasure.

Their bodies pressed closer, their hearts pounding in sync with the fervour of their embrace. [Y/N]'s fingers entwined in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that burned through their veins. Jaha let out a low groan at the tug of his hair. He pulled away slightly, breaking the string of saliva which connected their lips for a mere moment. He smiled.

"You're eager."

"And you're without your ribbon once again." With a playful grin, they moved away from Jaha, showcasing his ribbon tangled between their fingers once more. "Catch me again and I may consider rewarding you again."

Jaha wasted no time in going after them once more, his soft laughter filling the moonlit sky. He didn't mind catching them again, and again, for as many times as he had to, if it meant that they'd stay in his arms for just a moment longer.

[natasha-in-space]

"I wonder what kind of flower is that... It's so pretty!"

Natasha couldn't help but giggle as she saw Saeran's golden eyes widen in pure wonder. It seems like his insatiable curiosity would only grow with time. Or, rather, there was no more fear stopping his curiosity from coming through. "Hm, I don't know! How about we ask grandpa Alan? He knows all sorts of stuff! And, it is his garden after all."

Saeyoung looked up from the hefty astronomy encyclopedia he was engrossed in before, quickly jumping into conversation at the mention of the witty old man all three of them now collectively called their 'grandpa', by his own insistence, of course. "He knows all about stars, animals and flowers? Is there anything he doesn't know?"

"Well... Uh... I guess he doesn't know how to cook! Or maybe he just doesn't like it... But, I never saw him cook anything before." Natasha noted, tapping her chin in thought. Now that they were talking about this, she's pretty sure that grandpa Alan doesn't even own an oven. How weird is that? There's no greater joy than serving a delicious meal you made with your own two hands. At least, that's how it was for her.

"Still, this flower is strange... I never saw one with such bright colors." Saeran's voice was barely audible as he mumbled to no one in particular but himself, all of his attention focused solely on the oddly shaped flower swaying playfully in the wind, almost like it was finding his confusion endearing. He didn't even notice Natasha shuffling closer from the other corner of the tiny garden as she too now studied the aforementioned small plant. Looks like he was completely lost in his own little world. Not like her or Saeyoung minded that in any way. Both of them were happy to see the timid boy feel comfortable enough to indulge in his interests.

"...Maybe it's... magical?" The girl suggested, a silly little smile slowly making its way onto her face as she awaited for a response of some kind from the redheaded boy. It was unclear whether she was joking or not, but, judging by the way her fingers would occasionally drum against the sides of the plastic water can she held in her arms, this was her idea of playful banter. Though, Saeyoung was the only one that caught on her plans, snickering under his breath.

Her sense of humor was pretty odd.

Still, this was the perfect opportunity for something he was planning on doing for a while now. Reaching stealthily into the small backpack laying haphazardly to the side, he pulled out a small polaroid camera he snuck in from the thrift store all three of them visited about a week ago. He's been tinkering away at it for days now, determined to make it work again, no matter how long it'll take him. And so, lifting the fragile little camera into his hands, he snapped a picture of Saeran and Natasha, quickly making them both turn their heads to the sudden shutter sound.

"Hyun? Is that a... camera?" Saeran blinked, obviously a bit confused by what just happened. Though, his older twin was far too giddy by the mere fact of it finally working as he saw a small picture starting to print out. So he did fix it!

"Yeah! The one I found back in the thrift shop, remember?" Saeyoung's grin was practically reaching his ears now as he glanced up at his closest friends, eager to see their respective reactions.

"I thought it was broken!" Natasha exclaimed, her eyes growing wide.

A rather smug look crossed over Saeyoung's freckled features as he fixed his glasses in a sophisticated manner before giving out a reply. "It was broken, but I fixed it! Look, it even prints out pictures as soon as you take them. It's called a polaroid camera. Now we have something for us to look back on in the future when we're all grown up!"

He was obviously feeling quite proud of his achievement, showing off the printed picture once it was done. It was only when all three of them looked at the image more closely did they notice a small bird perched up proudly right on the top of Natasha's head. How long was it sitting there? Either way, it made both of the twins giggle as she quickly got all embarrassed over not noticing such an odd thing before.

It was an afternoon filled with laughs and smiles.

----

"Is this...?"

Natasha mumbled, carefully lifting up a worn out photo she recognized as soon as she saw it, tucked in the corner of a fairytale book. It was a bit crumbled and scratched in some places, but it was obvious that it took a lot of care and patience to keep it in such a relatively good condition.

Saeyoung's eyes widened as soon as he saw her holding the book in one hand and the photo in another. No words were needed as they stared back at one another. This was a moment from the past neither of these former childhood friends ever forgot. And, seeing it like this... was the perfect proof of him genuinely caring for Saeran, regardless of what the 'Savior' has told him.

Natasha swallowed dryly, her hands trembling as she carefully placed the book onto the nearest table. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"...You never forgot about us, isn't that right?"

[Ref. used by @ANIFORCE_PUSAN on Twitter!]

[forest-hashira]

Yuji Rescue

ok. so. before i pass tf out, i decided to post a lil scene for you guys!!! i let @ghost-1-y pick lol SO here's part of Yuji's rescue! @peachdues you can pick the next snipped once i have more scenes fleshed out aaahhhhh

Note: Rye is the name of Nanami's dragon, Takara is the name of Reader's dragon

“Kento, I don’t think there’s anyone here.” You glanced over at your friend then, though his gaze was still locked on the torched landscape beneath you. “We’re too late. They got away, we need to move on.”

The blonde was silent for a few moments longer, guiding Rye to circle around the remnants of the village once again. He seemed even more focused than usual, his brows pinched as he scanned the scorched settlement. “I’m going down to check it out. I feel like we’d be missing something if we left now.” Without giving you a moment to argue or ask what he meant, he took off down towards the ground, Rye’s wings tucked against her sides to speed her descent.

“Kento—!” you exclaimed, urging Takara to follow after the pair, once your brain had caught up to what was happening. With Takara’s size and speed, you landed less than a second after your friend, about fifteen feet of space between you. “Why did we land?” you asked, dismounting Takara once she had settled enough for you to do so safely. 

Kento dismounted Rye easily, one of his hands coming up to rest on her neck as he looked over at you. “I think there’s something here that we need to find.”

“Like what?” you frowned, casting your gaze around you. There was very little that was still actively burning, but there were patches here and there that were smoldering, and the air was thick with smoke. “There’s nothing here that’s still alive, and anything of value was likely looted before we arrived.”

“I don’t know what,” he replied tersely. “But I would appreciate it if you could humor me, just this once.”

You turned back to him, taking in his expression: his face was tinged with frustration at your questioning, but the rest of his body language pointed towards worry and uneasiness. Your brows furrowed a bit more, but you slowly nodded. “Sure, Kento. Should we split up and look around?”

“That would be quickest, yes,” your friend agreed, and you could see a bit of the tension in his shoulders bleed out at your words. 

You nodded, turning away from him and walking towards what appeared to have been a collection of buildings, though what those buildings were you could only guess; everything looked the same now that it had all burned down. Your steps were careful, and you picked up and moved what pieces of debris you could without burning yourself, making every effort to find anything that could have wound up buried in the wreckage of the village.

Just as you were about to give up, to urge your friend to move on once again, something caught your eye; a small flash of pale pink in the middle of all the black, though it was covered in smoke again immediately when the wind changed directions. But you had seen it, and whatever it was, you needed to get to it right away; maybe this is what Kento had been talking about.

Your pace was hurried, and you nearly tripped several times, but eventually you reached the place where you’d seen the pink spot. Now up close, it looked like hair, and your heart began to hammer against your rib cage. Is this a person? you thought frantically, looking for something to grab, some debris small enough for you to move on your own, but you quickly realized it was pointless. A sharp whistle to summon Takara came from your lips, then a call to your friend. 

“Kento!”

“What did you find?” the blonde called back, already making his way over to you. 

“I’m not sure, but it looks like a person. They don’t look burned, we need to get them out.”

Though you weren’t looking at him, you could hear how his pace quickened across the ground, your words having had the desired effect. Within moments, your friend and both of your respective dragons were at your side as you tried to figure out the best way to pull this person from the rubble.

“If you and Rye can take care of those pieces,” you said, gesturing at a few slightly smaller pieces of charred wood – what had likely been the walls of whatever building this used to be – “I’ll have Takara take care of the beam, and then I can go in and pull them out. I’m the smallest, it’ll be easiest for me to fit,” you added, when the blonde seemed to want to argue.

He frowned for a moment, not overly fond of the idea of you being the one to put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation, but he also knew there wasn’t any time to waste if the two of you were going to help this person. After a beat, he nodded, making his way to the debris he and his dragon would be responsible for lifting, while your own dragon sank her teeth into the pillar that had the person pinned. 

On your count, all three of them pulled the debris out of the way as much as they could, and as soon as there was a space big enough, you dropped to your knees, getting in close and grabbing the person’s shirt and pulling.

“Shit, Kento, it’s a kid,” you told him, the realization hitting you when the person was much easier to pull out of the wreckage than expected, the small form and round face of a little boy greeting you when you’d gotten a safe distance from the rubble. 

The blonde swore under his breath, dropping the rubble as soon as you were clear and rounding on you, dropping to his knees to look the kid over. He didn’t seem to be hurt too badly – just a few little cuts on his face – which was good, but there was no telling what kind of internal injuries he might have sustained during the siege. 

“We need to get him back to Shoko.” The woman was the best healer your settlement had seen in generations, her knack for knowing what was hurting someone and how to fix it bordering on magical; if anyone could help this boy, it would be her. 

Nanami nodded in agreement. “We should try to wake him first,” he murmured. “The last thing  any of us needs is for him to wake up while we’re in the air, panic, and start free falling.”

“Fair point,” you sighed, then began to shake the boy lightly. “Come on, bud, wake up for us,” you murmured, feeling a little foolish; you didn’t have much experience with children, and you didn’t even know if this boy could hear you, but you tried your best to come across as soothing.

Thankfully, the sounds of voices seemed to be enough to wake the boy, and his eyes slowly fluttered open. The sight of two unfamiliar faces hovering so close to him seemed to spook him, though, and he pushed away from you, staggering a couple steps away as he stared between you and Nanami. “Wh-who are you?” he stammered, clearly trying to put on a brave face.

You held your hands up placatingly, not wanting to spook the boy any further as you introduced yourself. “And this is my friend, Nanami,” you added gently. “Can you tell us your name?”

The boy hesitated, as if unsure whether he should share that information with people he just met, but eventually he seemed to decide it was okay. “Yuji,” he said, though his voice was so soft you had to ask him to repeat himself. “My name is Yuji.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Yuji,” Nanami told the boy gently. “It looks like you have some cuts on your face, but are you hurt anywhere else? We have a friend who can patch you up, good as new, we just need to know where you’re hurt so we can tell her.”

At the blonde’s words, Yuji’s little hands came up to touch his face, and he winced a bit when his fingers touched the worst of the scrapes on his face, one under each eye. He dropped his hands then, looking down at himself, seemingly taking stock of his body before he answered the question. “My head hurts,” he said eventually, “and right here.” He placed his little hands over his rib cage, a grimace tugging at his lips at the feeling. 

“Does it hurt to breathe?” you asked, hoping for the kid’s sake he didn’t have any broken ribs; you knew from experience they were a bitch to recover from. 

Yuji frowned and shook his head, lifting his gaze back to yours. “No. Hurts like…to touch it. Hurts like I fell down.” He was clearly struggling to describe the feeling, but even his vague attempt was enough. If none of his ribs were broken, that was really what was most important at the moment. 

“Our friend will help with that,” you promised, trying to offer the boy a reassuring smile, though you were unsure of its effectiveness. 

The boy was looking around now, having apparently noticed the landscape around him. His expression was almost entirely blank, which was surprising to you, but you chalked it up to either him being in shock, or not knowing what any of this meant. 

“Anything else hurting you?”

Ignoring your question, Yuji’s gaze slowly returned to the pair of you, darting back and forth between you as he spoke. “Everybody’s dead, aren’t they?”

The words hit you hard in the chest like a stone, the weight of them sinking into your gut and leaving you feeling heavy. You shared a glance with Kento, not sure how to respond to the boy. He was right, of course, everyone else here had died, but how could explain the magnitude of that to a child?

“Yes,” Nanami said after a moment, turning back to meet Yuji’s big brown eyes. “I’m very sorry, Yuji. We didn’t find anybody else here but you.”

At first, all Yuji did was nod, but after a few seconds the words really seemed to click in his brain, and tears filled his eyes in less time than it took him to blink. He wiped the tears away as quickly as he was able, but they fell so fast he just couldn’t keep up, and they began dripping down his chin, some landing on his shirt, others landing in the ashes by his bare feet. “I want to go home,” he sobbed, the words so soft and sad you felt your heart shatter in your chest. 

“I know, Yuji,” your friend said softly, and with a tenderness you’d never seen from him before, he reached out for the boy, gently pulling him closer. “We’re going to take you with us, okay? You’ll have a new home.” 

The boy didn’t protest as Nanami pulled him close, even going so far as to bury his face in the man’s chest as he continued to cry. “Okay,” he whispered after a few moments. “Thank you, Nanami-san.”

The two of you shared a look, expressions serious, and after a moment, you gestured to indicate that the two of you – well, three, now – needed to get going and head back home. Yuji needed to see Shoko, and you and Kento needed to speak with Satoru, Suguru, and the higher ups to determine a course of action. 

“Yuji,” Nanami spoke, voice gentle as he tried to get the boy’s attention. “We need to leave now. Are you ready to ride with us?” he asked, once wide, red-rimmed eyes were looking up at him again. 

Yuji considered for a moment, sniffling softly and rubbing his eyes again. After a few moments, he nodded slightly. “I want to ride with you,” he said, turning his head to look at Rye, who was hovering just behind the blonde man. “Your dragon looks nicer.”

The words caused a slight smile to tug at the blonde’s lips. “Yeah, I think she’s pretty nice. How about you say hi before we take off?”

As Nanami introduced the little boy to his dragon, you took the opportunity to stand upright once again, dusting the ash from the knees of your pants before making your way over to Takara. You stroked her nose lightly for a moment, smiling as the touch caused her to settle down low enough for you to mount her, just like you had intended. With practiced ease, you swung up onto her back, settling comfortably into the saddle as you watched Kento get Yuji settled on Rye with him. The sight of the little boy seated in front of your friend, his little hands gripping onto the leather loops the older man had indicated, his face covered in soot and visible tear tracks, made your chest tighten; he was too young to have lived through something like this. You could only hope he would be able to find a good home in the settlement, with a family who would love him the way he deserved.

“Ready?” Kento called over to you, once he was confident Yuji was secure.

“Ready,” you called back. Grabbing the handles attached to the saddle, you pulled upwards, encouraging Takara back to her feet. With a quiet command of tobu, the two of you were in the air again, the dragon setting a course for home without need for further instruction. Kento and Yuji were only seconds behind you, and as you glanced over at them, you were thankful that the settlement wasn’t too far.

“Don’t worry, Yuji,” you heard Kento say to the boy, leaning down to be a bit closer to him so he could hear his words clearly. “We’ll get to our settlement soon enough, then we’ll take you to the healer, and you can get some rest.”

[reki-of-the-valley]

Summer Sunsets

There are a few things that often preoccupied Langa: skateboarding, pronouncing things right, work, Reki. Reki. Always Reki. The pretty boy that somehow had wormed his way into Langa’s mind. And such a thing wasn’t new to Langa; any boy that gave him as much attention as Reki did was bound to do things to his little heart, but the way Reki flooded his sense, now that was new. It was so new, the way that his smile made Langa’s heart flip or the way the sound of his voice became the center of Langa’s world. Reki had become Langa’s everything, and what had he done to find himself there? What had he done for Langa to know nothing but how to fall for him a little more with each passing day?

With a hand over his heart, Langa could feel the irregular beating deep in his chest. He could feel the echo of Reki’s name inside of him, feel it pounding in his bones. When was the last time a crush had driven him this crazy? When was the last time a crush had left him feeling this alive? Never. The answer was probably never. Langa would have remembered if there had been another Reki in his life. Langa would have remembered the boy, but no one compared to the brightness that was Reki’s smile, his voice, his presence, his heart. Nothing could compare to the beauty that was the boy that stood before him.

A smile pointed in his direction, Langa couldn’t help but get closer. How could he resist such an invitation, a hand extended towards him? How could he resist letting his hand rest in Reki’s, letting calloused palms scratch against of skin? It was impossible to refuse such an opportunity. For all Langa knew, it was the only time it would happen.

“C’mon man!” Fingers curled around Langa’s, Reki’s grip tightening and tugging him along. “If we take any longer, we’re gonna miss it!”

“Where are you even bringing me?”

Amber eyes shone under the darkening summer sunlight. Beautiful amber eyes that had Langa’s heart flipping in his chest. Gorgeous amber eye that had Langa tripping over his own feet. And the smile. There were no words to describe the smile.

“Already told ya, it’s a surprise! Now stop asking questions and c’mon!”

And with that, the eyes, the smile, the look, it was all gone. Or at least, it was out of Langa’s view as Reki sped up, now running rather than his previous light jog. But his hand was still in Langa’s, his grip just as firm. He wasn’t letting go of Langa’s hand any time soon, not that Langa was complaining about that.

“It’s gonna be awesome, dude! You’re gonna be so—”

A smile. Reki’s smile. And the motion of an explosion with his free hand. And laughter. A light, almost shy kind of laughter falling from Langa’s lips, the type of laughter that made his cheeks burn red because of how ridiculous he felt whenever it came out. He hated the way it sounded, pitchy and uneven, but when Reki grinned at him, that crooked, toothy grin, Langa just couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help the sounds that escaped him, sounds that just made Reki grin even wider.

“It’s gonna be so freakin’ awesome, you won’t know what hit you! Like! Like!”

It was almost as if he were vibrating with excitement. Shining even. Reki easily got excited, but never like this. His excitement never coated him with a shine, something so special and so fitting. Passionate. He had always been so passionate. He had always been so determined. He had always been so beautiful.

“It’s right…” A tug, pulling Langa closer as he pointed ahead. “Here.”

“Reki, this is…”

Pinks and purples and oranges swirled around the sky. Gold as well, outlining the clouds that floated by. Beauty coated the world, but nothing compared to the sunset that colored Reki’s eyes. Pinks and purples and oranges, all gorgeous in the vast beyond, but even prettier over the amber of the boy’s eyes. The world had nothing on Langa’s world.

“Reki, I…”

Sunsets on oceans knew nothing of Langa and Reki. Sunsets sinking into the ocean knew nothing of the heartbeat that pounded as Reki stepped closer, his shoulder bumping against Langa’s.

“It’s pretty, right?”

Another toothy grin as the boy turned his head towards Langa. Another shine in his eyes, a shine brighter than the sun could ever shine.  What could ever compare to the beauty that was Reki?

“Yeah, it’s really pretty.”

It was a difficult task peeling his eyes off Reki, but he had to follow the boy’s gaze. He had to look at the sky. He couldn’t keep staring at him. He couldn’t risk being caught staring, his heart wouldn’t survive the embarrassment that would entail.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s so pretty. Kinda like—”

Quiet fell, Reki’s caught between those crooked teeth that had been smiling just a moment ago. Uncertainty clouded those amber eyes, dulling their natural shine. Something had gone wrong. Something had stopped Reki from being himself. Something that Langa didn’t understand. What could have happened for Reki to stop smiling? What happened for his voice to choke the way it had?

“I… I thought maybe if I showed you something beautiful, you’d… If you… Ugh!”

Langa’s breath hitched as Reki dropped his head in his hands, his fingers tugging at loose locks of his red hair. Panic flooded through Langa, crashing against his ribs as he felt helpless watching Reki.

“I’m so stupid! Of course this ain’t gonna work! I’m so dumb!”

“No!” Amber eyes peeked through loosening fingers. “No.” Softer this time. Less panicked this time. “No, Reki. You’re not stupid or dumb. You’re never stupid.”

“You don’t even know what I’m talking about, man. How can you say I’m not stupid when you don’t know?”

“Because you’ve never been stupid. You’re so smart, smarter than anyone I know. Smarter than even Cherry and… and nothing can change that.”

“No, no, I’m… But I… Because I…”

Heat flared in Langa’s cheeks as Reki’s eyes fell for a split second. Both must have matched in burning color, but that stayed a guess as the amber eyes could no longer be used as a mirror. But if Langa knew himself, he knew that his blush wasn’t concealed, brightening his face just as Reki’s did.  

“I— I’m sorry! I…” Amber, shadow, amber. Reki’s eyes flicked all around, unable to pick a spot. “I, I didn’t mean to…”

It was stronger than him. The urge to slip his fingers through Reki’s, stopping the boy’s fidgeting, it was stronger than any impulse Langa’s ever had. And perhaps he shouldn’t have. Perhaps he should have dropped the subject, but it was too late now. It was too late, his fingers already tight around Reki’s, his eyes fixated on the amber that had become his world long ago. It was too late to back out now.

“You didn’t mean to what, Reki?”

“I didn’t mean to…” Rise and fall, his breath hitched with every choked word. “I didn’t mean to do… Langa…”

“Reki.”

Smile. What more could Langa do than smile as he lifted Reki’s chin? And while he had never been the best at reading the room, this time, he was pretty sure he knew what was happening. And if he was wrong, then he was ready to jump onto the next flight back to Canada, change his identity, and leave his life behind.

“You can do it, Reki. Please.”

“Langa, I…” Another deep, shaky breath. “You won’t hate me if I told you that I like you? Like… Like you? Please don’t hate me… I…”

“Like you too. I like you too, Reki. So, so much.”

The words tumbled out of his mouth faster than his brain was processing them. Was he rambling at this point? Maybe, but he couldn’t tell. Everything was buzzing in his ear, especially the noise that sounded far too much like a distorted version of his own voice. Everything was loud but the quiet was worse. Everything was happening, everything Langa had dreamt of for weeks, months even, but everything was happening differently from the way he had planned. For one, he wasn’t the one initiating the confession.

“And you’re so great and smart and how could I not like you? You’re just so—”

“Langa! Dude!” Langa felt the heat flare up once more as calloused palms touched his lips, but there was no way he was redder than Reki. Amber eyes had grown wide but slowly relaxed as they were cast aside. “Man, who woulda thought that a confession is all it took to get you to talk so much. Always so quiet until…” A smile tugged at the corners of Reki’s lips as he glanced at Langa. “Would’ve done this months ago if I had known.”

“What?” Langa furrowed his brows as he lowered Reki’s hands from his face. “Wait, do you mean… You don’t…”

“No! Yes! No! I didn’t—I like you! I like you! I, I’ve liked you for months! Just…” Reki ducked his head, his eyes glancing up to meet Langa’s. “I just didn’t know how you’d react so I… I didn’t say anything for a while.”  

The sincerity in Reki’s hesitant smile left Langa melting. It left him grinning. It left him falling for Reki like he’s never fallen before. Falling into his arms, a hug tighter than he’s ever hugged the boy. Sincerity, that was all it took.

Silence enveloped the two as they stood there, melted into each other. Silence fell, a silence more comforting than it had ever been. Silence, it was better than the endless rambling that had left Langa earlier. But it was also dangerous. Silence, the perfect place for Langa’s thoughts to overwhelm him.

“Langa?”

He’d fallen too deep. He’d fallen too fast. He hadn’t thought about what could happen after this. None of his scenarios had gotten this far. They had always stopped before Imaginary/Hypothetical Reki would say anything to him. Langa had always focused on what he would say, never on what would be said to him. And now, how was he supposed to act? What was to become of them? Did they just continue being how they were before? Were they changed forever?

“Dude, you okay there?”

Feelings had always been such a messy thing. Feeling things always made living so difficult. But feeling things also made it easier to keep living. Every time a butterfly would flutter in the pit of his stomach, Langa would be reminded why he was there. Every involuntary smile would take a weight off his conscious. And some days, those butterflies were what would make him completely forget what had gone wrong in the past. Those butterflies, they felt like a new life blossoming from within.  

“Langa!”

The jolt snapped Langa out of his spiral, the world greeting him with summer sunset eyes. Soft looks that had never felt as comforting as they did now. Soft calloused skin traced circles against his cheek, a light touch that matched the feeling of the eyes. Feelings, no matter how messy they could be, feelings were good. Langa liked feeling things. He liked feeling this.

“You good?”

Langa nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. “Yeah. Couldn’t be better.”

He hadn’t meant it, he hadn’t meant the glance down, but it was too late. He hadn’t meant to get caught on the curve of Reki’s lips, but there he was, wondering about one last feeling. And as the sun set, eyes fluttering shut, there was no helping what had already been done.

“Can…”

“Please.”

It felt so natural, the slight lean down. It was as if he had done it a thousand times before, the light contact of soft lips. It was as if there was nothing else he was meant to do, but as Reki pressed a kiss back, everything felt right. A world of color exploded as Langa squeezed his eyes shut, basking in the warmth of the remains of sunlight and of the kiss. Butterflies burst throughout his body he held Reki close, savoring the taste of the kiss. Feelings. Feelings flooded right through Langa and nothing had ever felt better than the feeling of Reki’s lips against his.

There were so many things that preoccupied Langa, skateboarding, pronouncing things right, work, but none of those things compared to Reki. Reki. It would always be Reki, Reki that drove him crazy. It would be Reki for the rest of his life, Reki for the rest of forever. If there was one thing Langa was sure of, it was that he would be loving Reki infinitely.

[morewoe]

a  girl,  a  ghost,  a  god,  the  story  of  myranda  karstark

Act  One  -  A  Gift 

In  the  hour  of  ghosts,  a  babe  was  found  at  Karhold's  gate,  screaming  into  the  cold  air,  a  shock  of  brown  hair  and  eyes  as  blue  as  winter,  wrapped  in  threadbare  blankets.  No  note,  no  name,  no  family  in  sight,  and  no  way  to  identify  her.  Thought  to  be  six  moons  old,  and  outwardly  perfect,  though  initially  inconsolable.  She  was  brought  into  the  castle,  and  quietened  almost  immediately.  Nearby  towns  were  searched,  but  when  no  one  claimed  the  infant,  there  remained  only  one  question  -  what  would  be  done  with  her?

Maybe  in  another  story,  this  would  be  where  it  ended.  A  nameless  girl  in  an  orphanage,  destined  for  a  nameless  life.  Safe,  maybe,  though  no  one  moved  through  life  entirely  unscathed.  Instead,  she  was  left  with  the  Karstarks.  Whether  the  one  who  left  her  knew  what  they  were  doing  will  never  be  known.  Whispers  said  the  old  gods  themselves  delivered  her  to  safety,  left  with  Lord  and  Lady  Karstark,  who  took  the  girl  in  as  their  own,  all  memory  of  a  past  life  burnt,  along  with  the  blanket  she'd  been  wrapped  in.  The  babe  settled  in  the  arms  of  her  new  family,  too  young  to  remember  the  ones  who  left  her,  too  young  to  grieve,  and  yet  somehow  a  sadness  clung  to  her  like  woodsmoke.

Act  Two  -  A  Ghost

They  called  her  Myranda,  gave  her  their  name,  gave  her  their  protection.  She  grew,  at  first  into  a  serious  toddler,  who  seldom  spoke  and  seldom  cried,  except  when  she  thought  herself  being  left  behind.  From  there  she  became  a  lanky  child  with  unsettlingly  large  eyes  and  bitten  lips,  a  girl  who  spent  more  time  in  the  godswood  than  inside,  bowed  before  the  weirwood,  entirely  still  and  entirely  silent.  Something  about  the  cold  air  in  her  lungs  was  comforting.  She  barely  made  noise  as  she  slid  through  the  halls,  clung  to  shadows  like  they  were  her  mother's  skirts,  listened  to  conversations  a  child  had  no  business  being  a  part  of.  She  did  not  play  with  other  children,  instead  choosing  to  watch,  the  same  level  of  intense  focus  only  otherwise  given  to  maester's  lessons.  No  disdain,  or  haughty  attitude.  Just  fastidious  study.  She  was  half  ghost,  half  something  else,  like  a  sheet  of  ice  stood  between  her  and  the  rest  of  the  world,  in  all  areas  but  one.

With  her  family,  the  curtain  fell.  The  unsettling  quiet  gave  way  to  something  soft,  something  warm.  Words  were  spoken  freely,  with  no  care  as  to  what  the  rest  of  the  world  may  think,  and  no  need  to  hide  in  shadows.  Her  family  knew  her,  and  she  knew  them.  She  loved  her  parents,  and  her  siblings,  loved  them  like  she  remembered  the  pain  of  not  having  them,  like  she  remembered  a  time  before  them.  She  didn't,  couldn't,  though  not  for  trying.  But  trying  to  remember  the  life  before  them  felt  like  a  disservice  to  the  family  who  loved  her,  the  family  who  never  left  her.  They  were  not  her  family  by  blood,  but  by  name,  and  that  felt  more  important  to  Myranda.  They  had  chosen  to  give  her  their  name,  they  didn't  have  to.  And  every  day  that  passed,  she  felt  more  indebted  to  them.

Act  Three  -  A  Girl

As  womanhood  approached,  something  about  Karhold  started  to  chafe,  the  well-read  books,  the  hallways  she  could  walk  blindfolded,  the  trails  she  had  ridden  time  and  again.  The  girl  wanted  to  experience  the  things  she  had  only  read  about.  She'd  ride,  until  her  body  ached  and  the  sun  was  low  in  the  sky,  and  thoughts  of  her  future  were  banished.  She  travelled,  only  ever  above  the  Neck,  but  she  made  it  feel  as  though  it  was  a  tale  from  a  book,  a  new  adventure,  a  new  experience.  She  never  fully  shed  the  awkwardness  of  youth,  always  either  too  quiet  or  too  loud,  too  much  or  too  little.  Sometimes  she'd  look  at  a  person,  or  through  them  with  her  mind  a  million  miles  away.  Sometimes  the  very  seams  of  her  clothes  were  too  much  for  her,  making  her  want  nothing  more  than  to  shed  her  skin.  Days  spent  in  bed,  the  whole  world  just  too  loud  for  her  to  deal  with.  She  had  no  name  to  put  to  the  feeling,  but  felt  it  all  the  same,  deep  in  her  bones,  no  matter  how  she  tried  to  ignore  it.

In  that  solitary  time,  she  started  to  wander  about  her  future.  The  second  child,  the  spare.  She  wanted  something  hers,  something  that  could  never  be  taken  from  her,  but  she  couldn't  covet  her  older  sibling's  burden.  She  knew  she  would  have  to  marry,  eventually.  It  was  her  duty,  to  her  family  and  to  her  name,  to  find  a  match  that  matched  their  station,  that  brought  alliance  to  the  house,  that  made  her  parents  proud.  And  yet,  she  put  it  off.  To  be  known  meant  having  to  be  seen,  to  risk  the  chance  of  someone  looking,  and  looking  away.  She  pushes  it  away,  plenty  of  time  to  form  a  plan  she  tells  herself.

Myranda  throws  herself  into  her  writing  instead.  Signs  every  poem,  every  scrap,  every  small  thought  with  her  name,  the  desperate  attempt  to  leave  a  part  of  herself  behind,  even  if  she  never  allows  a  single  soul  to  read  them.  They're  stacked  under  her  bed,  in  her  wardrobe,  buried  deep  in  pockets  and  hidden  in  drawers,  every  touch  of  ink  to  paper  kept.  She  reads  everything  she  can  get  her  hands  on,  from  epics  to  folklore  to  history.  Dusty  tomes  and  newly  published  stories,  stacked  high  and  loved  deeply,  read  deep  into  the  night  until  her  candle  has  burned  out  and  she  can  barely  keep  eyes  open.  If  she  cannot  have  an  epic  story,  she  will  read  them  until  they  invade  dreams.

Act  Four  -  A  God

Over  the  years  the  weirwood  becomes  her  closest  friend.  A  face  that  had  never  judged  her,  never  cringed  or  looked  away.  Always  there,  steadfast.  The  first  place  she  goes  to  every  time  she  returns  home,  the  last  place  she  visits  every  night  before  retiring  to  her  rooms.  She  knows  every  knot,  every  limb,  every  branch,  every  line  in  its  face.  She  faces  the  cold  to  see  her  friend  daily,  snow  or  sleet  or  hail  or  rain.  She  receives  no  more  signs  from  the  old  gods  than  any  other  worshipper,  her  devotion  brings  her  no  reward,  and  yet  she  persists.  She  thanks  them  for  her  blessings,  for  the  family  who  kept  her,  for  the  warmth  of  her  bed  and  the  food  in  her  belly  and  the  soft  life  she  has,  safe  in  the  comforts  of  Karhold.  She  prays  for  guidance,  for  knowledge,  for  wisdom  over  all.  For  the  bravery  of  the  heroes  of  old,  who  did  what  had  to  be  done,  and  didn't  look  back.  She  prays  for  the  safety  of  those  she  loves,  terrified  every  moment  that  they  might  be  ripped  from  her.  And  sometimes,  she  doesn't  pray  at  all,  simply  sitting  in  the  silence  and  allowing  the  presence  to  be  a  comfort.  It  is  habit,  and  conviction,  and  compulsion.

Sometimes,  when  Myranda  is  alone,  with  only  her  thoughts  and  a  fire  to  keep  her  company,  she  thinks  she  can  remember  someone.  Brown  curls  like  hers,  a  warm  smile,  the  scent  of  rosemary  wrapping  her  like  a  blanket.  Of  course,  she  knows  she  was  too  young  to  form  those  memories,  that  they're  wishes  made  true  by  a  young  mind  and  an  active  imagination.  Hopes  that  were  never  spoken,  for  the  risk  of  sounding  ungrateful.  It  doesn't  stop  her  from  searching  every  crowd  for  blue  eyes  like  hers,  in  the  hopes  that  one  day  she'd  find  someone  who  shared  her  blood.  She  wonders  if  they  think  about  her,  if  they  know  where  she  is.  She  prays  to  the  weirwood  for  a  sign,  begs  her  friend  for  something  to  point  the  way,  and  nothing  comes.  No  one  is  listening.  She  prays  anyway.

fin - end

tl;dr  attachment  issues  in  human  form,  the  sense  of  being  indebted  to  those  who  took  you  in,  "If  we  want  the  rewards  of  being  loved  we  have  to  submit  to the  mortifying  ordeal  of  being  known", and  a  slight  hoarding  problem.

[kevyeen]

Now I'm curious how do your finals work?

Before explaining that, I think I should explain our school years.

INTRO (ig)

We don't actually say primary school or high school; It's first grade (6-7 years old) to twelfth grade (17-18 years old). First to sixth grade is like primary school I believe, not very high stakes, no numeric grade only very good to unacceptable. Then seventh to ninth grade is also generally low-stakes, doesn't impact your future etc. Then tenth to twelfth grade is when shit gets real; until this year, only your twelfth year grade impacted your chances of getting into uni but they're slowly changing it so that your grades from tenth to twelfth grade impact it. For me, only my twelfth year grades matter. But to someone who is in eleventh year this year, next year both their 11th and 12th year grades matter. To someone who is in their 10th year this year, all three years matter when they reach their 12th year. (Sorry if it's too jumbled or confusing we were confused too).

There are also two semesters, semester one's grade don't matter and it's all in the second semester.

THE FINALS

now that that's out of the way, all schools take different finals from their students. Like, if we had two schools, let's say A and B, none of the exams would be the same in any of the schools. School A has their own teachers who model their own exams and B has their own teachers.

But that's only true if either it's for the first semester finals OR it's not a transitional exam. By transitional I mean, going from 6th grade to 7th grade OR 9th to 10th OR, the most important one, 12th to university. Those final exams are all the same for each yearmate and come directly from the Education Department and are modeled by select teachers which we call 'coordinated finals'.

They're usually modeled in a way to make sure most students pass (they don't) but only the 'good' students get to ace them. They try to make it equal for all, but we all know that's not the case. The ones that we need cards for are only the ones after 10th grade. It used to be only 12th year but this year the 11th year kids are having coordinated finals too.

EXTRA INFO

The Final subjects aren't the same for all people above 10th grade. You see, when we are moving up from 9th grade to 10th grade we get to choose a 'field of study'. It's two branches: A) theoretical branch and B) vocational branch.

A has three sub branches; Science, Math, and Human studies. How it works is that if you go to Science branch you get to be a doctor (or jobs like that), Math an engineer (or similar jobs), Human studies a lawyer (or similar jobs). Their university entrances and study material are naturally different BUT science and math kids share A LOT. Only math kids have more math stuff and science kids have biology and geology. Human studies kids are just a different breed and study so much I'm scared of their sheer ability to go through so many books. (which just makes it even weirder to know people used to think 'lazy' kids went to human studies. <- the new gen don't think that though. Also most kids are in science branch, then math, then human studies. thanks parents.)

B is well, anything and everything practical I suppose. And this is how you get to Art school or Music school or any creative and fun but painful schools. But since society hates artists, no one deems kids who choose B to be 'smart' (ridiculous, I know) and nine times out of ten, the kids had to fight their families to choose this branch. And most don't win (don't think for a second that I'm talking from experience hahaha ha.) But yeah. All parents want their kids to be in A and most kids (me included) wanted to be in B.

Well, this turned into a rant. My bad lmao. Let me know if you have more questions, I love explaining. (even if I can get a bit confusing with my over explanations hehe)

[splatoon-edits]

opinion on pretzels

the big soft ones? or the small crunchy ones?

i like the big soft ones... i just think they have too much salt. but if u get them w 0 salt then they have no taste. >:( so my strategy is to get it with salt and then brush the salt off so u get a salty taste w o those big chonky salt crystals destroying my tastebuds. so yeah id say 8/10 when u eat em that way they taste good and have a rlly nice texture.

as for the small ones maybe like a 4/10. they are also too salty and u cant get rid of the salt. also i dont like hard foods that much. i like soft stuff or liquid usually. (with some exceptions) BUT. the smol preztels can be good for dipping in stuff. so they are not that bad overall.

and this has been my rating on pretzels thank u for coming imm here to give my useless opinions whenever u want

[thesunisatangerine]

against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part ten

alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader

warnings: none (im pretty sure)

(a/n in the tags) [parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve]

word count: 5.8k

The melodic chirping of birds in time with the gentle beat of Alexia’s heart roused you, your back delightfully warm, and for what seemed to be a long time you felt well-rested–felt as if the leaded weight that made its home in your bones finally melted away because, truly, you’d forgotten the lightness of being one felt upon waking from a night’s sleep or, even more so, the lightness one felt when waking in the sheltering arms of a lover. So you sighed, content and at peace, as you breathed Alexia in when you nestled further into the safety of her neck where faint wintergreen and her delicate, earthly scent lived, familiar and evermore comforting. 

When you finally drew your eyes open, the world came to focus and revealed, in its center, Alexia already awake, her head propped on her arm with her honey eyes, just like molten gold in the resplendent glow of the morning sun, lidded as she gazed at you with a lazy smile, soft and relaxed but it ignited you with a gentle flame all the same, whose radiance only intensified upon meeting your eyes. 

“Good morning.” Alexia greeted you and it struck you just how much you missed the sound of her voice in the morning, low and soft with just the right amount of rasp that never failed to incite the desire to kiss her right then.

“Good morning.” You replied in the same tone, cheeks warming to a gentle simmer in the face of your lover’s tender demeanour. She brushed the back of her fingers on your cheek while a silence filled the space between your eyes, intimate, as you soaked each other in. But when you could no longer sustain the weight from her gaze–when you chest had filled twice over that it felt in danger of bursting from the sheer joy of being looked upon by such earnest affection–you whispered, “you’re staring.”

Alexia tucked your hair behind your ear before she countered in a voice so tender your heart ached.

“And you’re beautiful.”

No words could translate the gravity of what you felt in that moment, so you spoke the only language that could ever come close to conveying it: you cupped her jaw and caught her lips between yours, seared the missed ‘good morning’s’ and the lost ‘hello, how are you’s’ into the kiss, the pace languid but sweet, savouring the way her lips parted in this silent conversation–relishing the way Alexia tasted like summer on your tongue.

Alexia tugged you closer, and closer still but still not close enough, with a gentle pressure from her hand against the small of your back, the other now over the nape of your neck.

But the conversation was cut short, too short, when a small gasp reached your ear, electrifying you in an unpleasant way your eyes flung wide open, darting immediately to the direction of the sound to find Elisa standing at the last step of the stairs, her hair ruffled from sleep, her loose shirt creased and draped slightly to the side, mouth wide open in disbelief as she gawked at the sight of the two of you.

And what a sight the two of you must have been. 

In your haste to extricate yourself from Alexia, you ended up flopping down against the tiled floor, the carpet doing little to cushion your fall, but you recovered quickly and now you stood there not quite knowing what to do with your arms or what to even say. Alexia, on the other hand, remained half on her back and half sitting up, her weight against an elbow, the other arm frozen outstretched towards you, a clear attempt to save you from when you fell down. If the situation had been different, you probably would’ve laughed especially at Alexia’s expression: her face contorted in part mortification and part worry, brows upturned, eyes agape, and lips partially opened–if only you weren’t too flustered yourself to do so. 

Alexia got her bearing faster than you, though–damn her and her athletic condition–because she, too, now stood from the couch (and did so with a lot more grace than you did). She cleared her throat, fumbled with her hands as it looked like she tried to stick her hands in her jacket pockets before it dawned on her that it remained still on the coffee table, so she resorted in putting them in her jean pockets instead. 

“Good morning, Elisa. How are you?” Alexia said in English and her voice wavered at the end, the question infused with a guilty inflection. 

With bated breath, you waited for your daughter’s reaction as trepidation filled you, which only worsened when Elisa’s eyes darted at you, then to Alexia, then back to you again. Numerous scenarios fleeted through your mind and out of all the images your mind conjured, what happened next was not one them: you didn’t expect the way with which Elisa’s surprise morphed into smug delight, her once opened mouth now curved into a coy smile, not dissimilar to a cat’s, that only served to accentuate the mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“Are you guys dating?” Each word deliberately drawled out as Elisa posed them, punctuated by a teasing cadence that set your ears and cheeks aflame. The question, thankfully, brought you back to yourself because only you could save you and Alexia from this situation. 

“Okay, I think I need to have a conversation with you so up you go, young lady, back to your room for now.” You said as you approached Elisa who you guided towards the stairs with a gentle hand on her back but not before you placed a good morning kiss on the crown of her head. Elisa whined, but she heeded your words nonetheless, although she did sneak a wave and a cheeky thumbs up to Alexia on the way up, leaving you with an amused smile on your lips at her antics as you thought fondly, shaking your head, ‘Oh my god, this child.’ 

When Elisa was finally out of sight and you heard her bedroom door shut, you let out the breath you were holding. That really could have been a disaster, and when you looked over your shoulder, you found the same thought written in Alexia’s face. You dragged your feet back to where Alexia stood who, as soon as you got close enough, was quick to pull you back into her gentle arms. With your cheek pressed against her collarbone, her arms loose around your waist, and her chin resting on your head, you were grounded back to the moment, your muscles relaxing as apprehension began to leave you. 

“That was mortifying.”

Alexia let out an airy laugh, the remnant of her nervousness still apparent. “I know. At least we didn’t do it last night.”

“Alexia,” you groaned as your cheeks burnt anew, “please, don’t–I don’t even want to imagine that right now.”

Melodic laughter filled your ears again before it tapered off which, once again, left you two blanketed in the subtle refrain of the waking world and the warmth of the sunlight that streamed through the window. You didn’t know which of you moved first but in the next moment, you found the both of you swaying to a gentle rhythm as you held each other. 

“So, what now?” Alexia asked, breaking the silence.

“I… I don’t know.” You answered truthfully. Sure, the both of you agreed to take everything slow, but where to even start? When intimacy and familiarity were already there, strong and incessant in their pull, how could torn lovers begin to mend the fragments–to keep everything tentative and slow? Where should the lines be drawn, the boundaries set, when a profound desire that transcended physical affection already made its home in your heart, a yearning that constantly craved for not only Alexia’s company but also her thoughts? Because with Alexia, you wanted–and would always–want more.

“I think, for now, I need to talk to Elisa about this–about us.” Sighing, you continued, “what do I even tell her?”

“Well, she seems to approve.” At that, the both of you chuckled, then Alexia spoke again, serious but her tone remained light when she did. “Tell her whatever you’re comfortable with. Slow, remember? No labels for now, it’s just you and me.”

She placed a kiss against your ear and you hummed, nuzzling her neck in gratitude.

Another pause. 

“I think I should go.” 

Hard as you tried, you couldn’t hide your disappointment at what Alexia just said even though it was probably the best thing to do right now. There were much you needed to talk to Elisa about alone: her nightmares and her therapy, and now this. The only thing that eased your heart was the fact that Alexia seemed as reluctant to go, too, with the way her hold on you tightened and you responded to her touch by falling further into her, clutching the fabric of her shirt in an attempt to let her know you’d rather she stayed.

“I know. Me, too,” Alexia sighed seeming to understand what you were feeling as she kissed your temple. “How about this? If you and Elisa are feeling up for it, I could take you some place tomorrow? I did tell you before that I’d show you around.”

At the reminder, the memory fleeted through your mind and a sense of melancholy filled you but you swallowed it down before it could take root. Then you hummed in agreement, “I’ll ask Elisa about it. What’s on for you today?”

“Apart from waiting until tomorrow comes?” Alexia joked which made you giggle. “I’ll probably visit La Masia, check with Josep for next week’s schedule, then head home or visit Mamá and the family.”  

“That sounds fun.” You said as you began to kiss her, knowing that your time together for the day would end any second now. As you punctuated each word with a kiss, you continued, “alright, I should let you go now, then.”

The rumble from Alexia’s chuckle radiated beneath your palm on her chest as she whined, “you’re making it really difficult to leave.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop now,” you giggled and just as you began to pull away, Alexia cradled the nape of your neck and sealed your lips together again for a deeper kiss. Then she pulled away but not before dragging down your lower lip with her thumb as she untwined herself from you and gave you a look that made you burn all over.

“Call me later?”

You nodded.

Alexia grabbed her leather jacket, gave you a smile and one last peck on your cheek, before she strode out of the door. 

The feeling of loss that arrived upon her departure did not go unnoticed by you but before it could settle in your heart, you made your way to Elisa’s bedroom. As soon as you entered though, Elisa shot you a question without any preamble, practically buzzing in her excitement. 

“Mom, why didn’t you tell me you’re dating Alexia?” 

Your cheeks burnt at Elisa’s bluntness.

“Before we get to that, ladybug, I need to talk with you about something first.” You said as you set yourself down next to her on the bed. Elisa regarded you with a look that said she already knew what you were going to talk with her about. You wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her shoulder. “I’m worried about your nightmares and your therapy. Do you think we need to switch to a different therapist?”

Elisa gnawed on her lower lip before she spoke in a soft voice. “I like my current one. She’s cool and she makes it easy for me to talk about what happened. But I can take more sessions if you want me to.”

“Do you think you need more sessions?” You looked at Elisa pointedly, emphasising the fact that the choice was hers to make. “All I want is what’s best for you and your wellbeing, Elisa. I’m not trying to make you do anything, especially if you know yourself you don’t need them, but I also can’t just stand by and watch so I’m just here to tell you that there are options. If you need more sessions, we can do it. If you want to change therapists, we’ll both find you a new one. As long as it’s going to help you get through this, we can do it.” 

“I’m not sure… Can I–” You caught her eye again and you raised your brows at her chosen word, and you watched as Elisa nodded, understanding what you meant, before she began again, “I will talk to my therapist about it and see if I do.” 

You beamed at her, proud as you squeezed her shoulder again. She smiled back.

“So, what do you think is causing this spike in nightmares?” 

“I… I don’t know. I think I’m just nervous? Also, maybe too excited?” Then Elisa added with a small laugh, “or both? I don’t really know.”

“About what, ladybug?”

“Going back to the Academy.”

At this information, you couldn’t help but frown, confused. “Is something happening in the Academy?”

Concern must have been too apparent in your tone because Elisa quickly looked at you and said as she waved her hands in reassurance, “it’s nothing bad, Mom, don’t worry! It’s just, Coach told us there are scouts coming some time around the end of the year and I’m… I really want to play for Barça, Mom.”

You understood her apprehension but her answer didn’t tell you why her shoulders looked like they’d taken on an invisible weight again with the way her spine curved inwards, almost dejected. 

“That’s a really big opportunity, ladybug, so I understand that pressure is there for you to perform your best. Is it the pressure that’s making you think about what happened?”

Elisa shrugged, quirking her lips to the side in an unsure manner. A moment later though, she nodded and admitted in a small voice. “I just don’t want to let them down. I don’t want to let you down.”

“Elisa,” you took her hand in yours.  “Never, never. If your parents were here, they would tell you how proud they are of how far you’ve come already. You’re so strong, ladybug, and you don’t even know how much. And if you happen to fall down, we’ll be here to support you until you’re ready to stand back up again. Just know that whatever happens, you will always be enough. Always, Elisa. ”

Elisa leant her head against your shoulder then she turned her head and gazed at you with wide eyes. “You really think I can make it?” 

“I believe in you, ladybug. Do you?” You pinched her arm playfully which earned you a giggle from her. When she looked back up at you and you saw the determined gleam in her eye, the worry in you was put to rest. 

“Yes.” 

At that, you couldn’t help the warmth that surged through you and you hugged her. “There you go. I’m so proud of you, ladybug.” 

After a moment of silence, Elisa asked in a teasing tone, “so… Alexia, huh, Mom?” 

Your cheeks warmed. “What about her?” 

“Are you together?”

“It’s… complicated right now, ladybug. We’re working on it.”

“Was that why you always looked sad whenever we talked about her? Before now?” You raised your brows in surprise. You’d always tried your hardest to school your features whenever Alexia was brought up because you didn’t want Elisa to worry but you didn’t think that you were that transparent. 

“Did I really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to explain it but whenever you tried to smile, it didn’t quite reach your eyes.”

“Oh.” Pause. “I… I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Elisa shook her head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Mom. And it’s different now. Now you look happy.”

“I am.” You admitted with a small smile. “How… how do you feel about us, though?”

“I’m happy that you’re happy, Mom. It’s going to take awhile to get used to the Alexia Putellas being around but I’ll be fine. And as long as she treats you well, I’m alright.”

Your chest expanded at her words. “Thank you, ladybug, that… that means a lot.”

Elisa hugged you then and you hugged her back. 

“Speaking of, Alexia offered to take us around the city tomorrow. What do you say?”

At that, Elisa practically jumped up, unable to control her excitement and you laughed. 

True to her words, Alexia pulled up in her car the next day a couple of hours before noon. Alexia looked comfy in her white sneakers, ankle length socks, shorts, an oversized t-shirt, and a baseball cap, and upon opening the door for her, she took you in her arms and kissed you. Her eagerness amused you and you laughed against her lips but you tangled your fingers in her hair to deepen the kiss anyway. 

“I missed you.” Alexia spoke between kisses.

“It’s only been a day,” you smiled into the kiss, charmed. “And I missed you, too.”

Time slipped you as you lost yourself in Alexia’s arms and lips, and you didn’t know how long the both of you were there by the open door, but it was apparently long enough that Elisa needed to interrupt you two. A terse cough made you pull away and, turning to look at Elisa who was standing just beneath the archway that lead to the living room, offered your daughter an apologetic smile. Elisa only stood there with her arms crossed, clearly unimpressed with the way her brows were creased. 

“Hola, Elisa.” Alexia said with a shy wave which drew your attention back to her and you bit your lip at the state of her face. You reached out to wipe away the faint smudge of your lipstick on the corner of her lips and, upon realising what you’d done, Alexia quirked her brows up as she smiled at you, sheepish. 

“Hi, Alexia.” A pause. “Wait, should I be calling you Aunt Alexia now?” 

Alexia opened her mouth then closed it, seeming to be completely disarmed by the question. And when she looked at you with plea in her wide eyes asking you silently how she should answer it, you knew just how much the question definitely caught her off guard.

“Uh, if you want to.” Her words lilted with so much uncertainty it sounded more like a question than a statement. 

Then Elisa grinned at the both of you, practically beaming. “I’m just messing with you, Alexia.” 

She then continued to skip between you two, bounding through the door and down the porch stairs, and you held your laughter in as Alexia looked after her with a bewildered gaze, mouth agape. Once Elisa got to where Alexia’s car was parked, she started to wave the two of you over. 

“She’s… she’s very funny.” Alexia laughed nervously, eyes still fixed at Elisa. Then she whispered conspiratorially, pointing to Elisa for good measure. “Are you sure she’s the same kid I met at the Olympics?”

“Yes.” You chuckled as you locked the door and began descending down the stairs. “She’s only like this when she feels comfortable around people. So, do you know what that means?”

Alexia shook her head.

You smiled at her, cupping her cheek before you pressed a light kiss on the other. “It means she likes you.” 

At that, Alexia smiled back at you with lightness in her eyes before she grabbed your hand, intertwined her fingers with yours, and kissed the back of it. And the gesture warmed you more than Barcelona’s summer sun ever could.

Then, once the three of you were in Alexia’s car, you asked, “so, what do you have planned for us today?”

Alexia adjusted her rearview mirror to look at Elisa at the back seat, smiling. “First of, who’s hungry?”

After a delicious–and a quite scenic–brunch at a restaurant located by one of Barcelona’s waterfronts, the three of you took a short walk down a nearby landing connected to the port. By this time, the sun had already reached its peak, and with the vacant sky and the high tide, the view was one someone would expect to have come out of a film; the blue tinge of both the heavens and the sea was so vivid that you knew your camera would have trouble capturing the essence of it. Image after image, you captured your surroundings and as the three of you walked on, rolls of film were exposed to the light of Elisa and Alexia, and these images, you knew, you would cherish forever. 

At one point during the walk, Alexia asked you to teach her how to work your camera, and so you did. With Elisa between you looking over at the sea, you guided Alexia’s fingers over the camera and taught her how to hold it properly, before you told her about the rest. As soon as she got it, she slung your camera around her neck and immediately started taking photos of you and Elisa. You laughed when she held the camera at arm’s length in an attempt to take a selfie of the three of you, adjusting it as best as she could to get the right angle before she set the timer. You told her as all of you returned to her car that you’d send her the fruit of her labour the moment you developed the negatives. 

About half an hour later after hitting the road again, the three of you ended up at the second stop for the day: Camp Nou’s Barça store–much to Elisa’s delight. When Alexia parked the car at a less crowded spot and began to take her seatbelt off, you fixed Alexia with a reluctant gaze, speaking in Spanish so Elisa wouldn’t understand.

“Is it really wise for you to just march in the store? You’re the Alexia Putellas, after all, there’s no way no one would notice.” 

In response, Alexia held a finger up to indicate you should wait and shifted so she could grab the hoodie that was hanging over the back of her seat. She put it on, zipped it up and pulled the hood down over her cap, then she put on a face mask and her sunglasses, her light brown hair spilling out to frame her face.

“Voila!” Alexia waved her open hands. “What do you think?” 

You looked her up and down. All of her tattoos were covered but even with her attire and her face concealed, you could still recognise her–maybe you could chalk that up to you intimate familiarity with Alexia’s being but still. So you said as you schooled your features, your voice monotonous. “Wow. You really look like a whole new person.”  

Alexia threw her head back, laughing. Then, “we’ll treat it as an experiment and see if they will.”

“That’s very modest of you,” you countered, tone still dry. 

“Thank you,” she retorted in a saccharine tone while she flipped her hair over her shoulder, and that, in turn, made you laugh. 

So then it was decided that you and Elisa would also wear face masks as all of you went on ahead in your quest to infiltrate–as per Alexia’s words–the store. Much to your surprise, Alexia’s disguise worked although she did draw some unwarranted glances, ranging from suspicion to pure amusement, due to the nature of her getup. And to your chagrin, once the three of you got back to the car with your bags of merch, Alexia smirked at you, smugness all too evident in the curve of her lips. 

After that, Alexia took all of you for a drive up a mountainside with the windows rolled down that let the fresh, summer breeze rush inside. With the wind in her hair, she began to sing along with you and Elisa to the music playing on the radio, nodding her head to the beat of the music. At the end of the ascent, Alexia parked the car at your third stop, which turned out to be the Tibidabo Amusement Park.

You knew this place was pretty high up, but the moment you stepped out of the car, even from the parking lot, the view hit you: it was incredible. The city of Barcelona stretched out far into the distance, expansive and seemingly never-ending, and you could just see the strip of blue that bordered the ports, and the colours of the city’s structures were made ever-vibrant by the radiance of the sun. The view pulled you towards the edge of the parking lot, where you put the viewfinder to your eye to capture it.

“The view is stunning, isn’t it?” Came Alexia’s voice from beside you.

“Yeah…” you said, breathless, dragging you eyes from the cityscape to Alexia and as you did the remainder of your breath was completely taken away, cheeks warming when you found Alexia gazing at you, her smile as tender as her eyes, while her loose brown hair fluttered to the breeze which added to the softness of her demeanour. The urge to kiss her then became too much so before you fall into temptation, you closed the distance and simply rested your head against her strong shoulder, an arm around Elisa’s shoulder when she stepped into the space beside you.

Soon, you began a short trek upwards to get to the entrance, and if the view from the parking lot took your breath away, it was nothing compared to what you found at the top: from the regal immensity of the structure of the Temple of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that greeted you, to the Torre de las Aguas de Dos Ríos that stood proud just behind the Temple, to the perspective that overlooked the other side of Barcelona. After another round of picture-taking, the three of you finally entered the park.

The day went by as the three of you amused yourselves with the park's attractions. And since you'd all forgone wearing masks, Alexia was, as expected, recognised by people and was stopped more than a handful of times for photos and signatures during different points of your excursion. And you watched with Elisa on the sidelines, appreciating the way Alexia interacted with her supporters, and smiled at her with encouragement and reassurance whenever she looked at you two with an apologetic gleam in her eyes.

By the time the three of you left the park, the sun had begun to set.

It was another drive around the mountain side that lead you to the last stop for the day: Mirador d’Horta. Alexia parked the car in such a way that the trunk faced the cliffside before she urged the two of you to step out and you gasped. 

You’d seen some magnificent scenes today, but this one was definitely your favorite.

There you stood, taking in the way the lights of the city burned like embers embedded in the earth. There was something about witnessing the city at night that never failed to make you feel connected, elevated, when you see the million tangible proofs of existence: under each light was a person, a family—lovers—all in their own worlds at their corner of this world you shared with them. And in your corner, in the opened trunk of Alexia’s car, was your world right beside you, and there was nowhere else you’d rather be. The three of you sat there in silence, Elisa in the middle of you and Alexia gazing over the city lights.

It wasn’t long until the day finally took its toll on Elisa, and she ended up settling her head on your lap and dozing off into slumber. You smiled down at her, brushing back her hair behind her ear as you watched her breathe deeply, feeling relieved when you noticed the peaceful smile on her lips.

“So her battery does run out. Sometimes, I forget just how much energy kids have.” The pure awe in Alexia’s voice made you let out a quiet laugh.

“It has its way of catching you off guard.” You shook your head fondly before you met Alexia’s eyes and teased, “I can’t believe she tired you out; aren’t you supposed to be the athletic one?”

“Hey! I’m only human; thank you very much. And what’s a thirty-year-old compared to a twelve-year-old?" Alexia raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Touché. Ah, to feel young and full of energy again.”

Alexia cringed before she laughed out. “Please, stop. You’re making me feel old.”

“I’m making us feel old.”

The both of you chuckled, then took a momentary pause. You turned to Alexia and asked, "Did you run your parents ragged as a kid?”

The inner corners of her brows lifted—it was subtle, but you were familiar enough with the intricacies of her demeanour that you caught it—exposing more of her eyes, which looked pensive in the dim light, her lips pressed in a melancholic line before she smiled, wistful.

“Oh, yeah, but I’d like to think I wasn’t a menace. It’s just—you know, when you get so focused on something that you forget the time?"

You nodded. She continued.

“When I was much younger, there were times I was so intent on winning that I’d forget about dinner. So, one of them would look for me around the streets or the square. But after I got into Sabadell, my energy finally found the right outlet, and most days I’d gone home tired. Papá–” Alexia bit her lip, her eyes glazing over for a moment as she receded somewhere—a tender memory—then she shook her head. You watched the way her throat moved as she swallowed before she continued, voice raspy and quiet, “He, uh, he’d always exclaim, ‘She’s finally tamed!’ whenever I’d slump down on the couch after a practice. It was ridiculous, but it never failed to cheer me up.”

You grabbed her hand and squeezed it, expressing silent gratitude for the memory she imparted, as you smiled at the image of young Alexia with red cheeks in a sweat-soaked shirt, hair matted to her face, being chased and dragged back home to have dinner.

“No, I can’t imagine you being a menace. Mischievous, yes, and probably hot-headed, but never a menace.”

She laughed, winking at you. “Yeah, hot-headed is probably what people who knew me then would say about me. And I can’t imagine you being a menace, either.”

You raised your brow at her, smiling slyly. “Are you sure about that?”

Alexia opened her mouth as if to reassert her claim, but you saw the way her confidence wavered as she regarded you. Then she closed her mouth, now looking more unsure.

“Wait, are you being serious right now?”

You allowed her confusion to linger for another moment before you finally broke your character. “No, I wasn’t a menace, but you really should’ve seen the look on your face.”

Alexia squinted at you and muttered just loud enough for you to hear, her tone dry. “Are you sure about that?”

“Hey!” You yelled quietly, giving her shoulder a playful nudge but being careful not to accidentally jostle Elisa awake before you took her hand again. You intertwined your fingers together and pressed a kiss on the back of her hand, meeting her eyes. Then you took a moment to soak her in.

“Thank you, Alexia, for today. You don’t know how much this means to Elisa... how it means to me.”

Alexia squeezed your hand, smiling softly.

“I’m glad you both enjoyed it.” Alexia squeezed your hand as she regarded Elisa with a soft eye. Then a sincere smile lingered on her lips as she caught your gaze and said, “I think I needed something like today more than I realised. It feels good to be spending time with you again.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, clearly understanding what Alexia meant.

“I know the feeling,” you whispered. And I missed you, too.”

With her other hand, Alexia reached out over the space between you and brushed her thumb over your cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear as she smiled at you with her eyes and her lips. With the city lights behind her, the soft glow of the car light bathing her features in its golden glow, and the summer breeze playing with the soft strands of her hair, Alexia looked so tenderly human, the embodiment of warmth and all that the word entailed, gentle and, oh, so soft.

The two of you sat in silence, just soaking each other in, until a ping from Alexia’s phone interrupted the moment. Alexia looked down, read it, and then locked the screen with a sigh. When she met your eyes, hers were apologetic. You smiled in understanding.

“Time to go?”

“Yes.” Alexia sighed as she stood up and tucked her phone back into her pocket. “It was Josep. He reminded me I have a full day tomorrow.”

You nodded. You gently roused Elisa, watched her drag her feet to the back seat, and nearly chuckled when she fell right back to sleep after putting her seatbelt on and closing the door. You turned to Alexia, and as soon as she closed the trunk, you cradled her jaws in your hands and pulled her down for a kiss. Immediately, Alexia wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you closer to her.

“I wanted to do that all day.” You whispered against her lips.

Alexia gasped when you nipped at her lower lip before she buried her fingers in your hair, deepening the kiss. “You have no idea.”

On the way back to Derek's house, Alexia kept one hand on your thigh. And with the radio playing softly as the car passed under a tunnel with lights overhead, it felt like you were in a movie.

After Elisa had gone back inside the house after thanking Alexia for the day and bidding her farewell for the night, you kissed Alexia’s cheek in gratitude. Then her lips.

With her forehead resting against yours, she whispered, “I’ll see you Tuesday?”

“Yeah.” You brushed your nose against hers before you kissed her again. You began to pull away. “Have fun tomorrow.”

“I will. I–” Alexia’s cheeks flushed before she smiled. “Bye, for now.”

Later, when you were in bed about to go to sleep, you received a message from Alexia. She sent you a link to a tweet containing a photoset that contained pictures of the three of you but mostly pictures of a hooded Alexia taken from a distance by the photos’ grainy quality, captioned, 'Alexia, what are you doing????’ followed by a string of laughing emojis.

At that, you couldn’t help but laugh. Her disguise was ridiculous in person, but captured like this, you thought it was a work of pure comedy. 

You messaged her back, 'I guess you do have reason to be modest after all.’

[talaok]

Giving up

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Coaxing your neighbor into having sex with you although he's unsure since he's much, much older than you

Warnings: big ass unspecified age-gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie Smut| unprotected piv, crempie, insicure!joel, sub!joel, also my man has trouble lasting cause he's not done this in a very long time.

a/n:i needed to write some cheesy romantic stuff, and maybe it doesn't really make all that sense in this story and maybe i cried while writing this cause no one is ever gonna love me like this but so what bitch leave me alone (i also am i lil tipsy as i proofread this, so ignore any mistakes pls)

Part 1

"did you do something to your hair?"

Tommy was standing on Joel's doorstep, looking at him as if he were an alien.

"I washed 'em" he grumbled, "what do you want?"

His brother couldn't help but huff out a laugh

"someone's in a good mood today"

"I've gotta be somewhere, just tell me what you want"

Tommy's interest was only piqued more.

there stood his brother, his clothes perfectly clean- maybe even ironed- his hair... styled, his beard trimmed...

something was definitely going on.

"Where are you going?"

Joel rolled his eyes now, shooting his little brother a death glare

"none of your business"

Oh he knew what was going on...

"Who is she?"

"Tommy-"

"Is it Jessica? I bet 's Jessica, she's always flirting with you you ol' dog-"

Joel swore he was gonna punch him- he was already running late because of how long he took to pick his clothes- finding a flannel that wasn't completely worn out turned out to be real fucking hard.

He felt stupid for how much effort he'd put into getting ready, he felt stupid for how anxious he was, but most of all... he wanted his brother to go away.

"There ain't no one, Tommy- now, if there ain't anything you need, please go-"

But just then- just when he was finally going to get rid of him, your sweet, soft voice made its way to his ears.

"Hi Joel! Hi Tommy!" You smiled from your porch, waving your hand at him and his brother "You didn't forget about today, did you Joel?"

What in the actual fuck?

Tommy did a double-check, looking between you and his brother, and when he finally confirmed that it was actually him you were talking to, you whom he'd gotten all dolled up for, he couldn't do anything but let out a slow, long breath.

"No I didn't- I'll be there in a minute, darlin'!" Joel was answering you as his brother regained his ability to speak

"well... Fuck. Me" he was in awe, his voice barely a murmur

"it ain't like that" Joel was quick to intervene "'m just fix-"

"'m sure it ain't" Tommy let out a chuckle, his hand going to pat his brother's back "You fucking lucky bastard"

"Tommy I know she's young bu-"

"shut up man" he laughed "Just go have fun, you asshole"

__ __

"Sorry 'm late, Tommy was just-"

You smiled at his words, shaking your head

"It's ok, Joel" you cooed as you let him in,

He gave you a soft little smile, and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

Joel Miller didn't smile just at anyone.

"water?" you asked, leading him to the kitchen.

"Uhm- sure"

His heart was damn near beating out of his chest already- for no fucking reason at all.

Well except the obvious one... you'd sucked his dick and he'd eaten you out three days ago- and you'd made it clear you wanted more.

Jesus Christ, he felt like a fourteen-year-old with his first crush.

You watched him as he sipped on the glass.

"So?" a soft smirk was caged between your teeth "Did you think about it?"

He damn near choked.

Which didn't make any sense, he was expecting this, he already knew you'd ask.

He cleared his throat, diverting his eyes from you "I-I have"

"And?"

You'd gotten closer, your expectant eyes studying every inch of his face

pleasepleasepleaseplease say yes

"Did- didn't you have something that needed fixing?"

Oh for fuck's sake

"joel" you called for him in what almost sounded like a plead.

"darlin' just... lemme fix your cabinet first"

This man was gonna be the goddamn death of you.

"ok"

__ __ __

As it turns out, in many different ways.

Who knew watching him fix something would turn out to be so fucking hot?

He'd rolled his shirt up so that his strong forearms and a glimpse of his beautiful bite-worthy biceps were showing, his hands moved so very expertly that they couldn't help but bring back memories of what those same fingers had done to you just a few days ago, and his face... he looked so hot when he was all in his head, concentrated only on the task before him-

or so you thought.

"You're gonna stare at me the whole time?"

A soft laugh escaped your lips

"don't mind me- just enjoying the view"

He huffed out a laugh as he went back to work, but you couldn't help but notice the fact he pushed his sleeves ever further up his arms, giving you more of a view of his delectable skin.

What a tease

__ __ __

"there we go" he said after some time, opening and closing the cabinet one final time to make sure "all done"

For the record, this time you hadn't even done it on purpose, the cabinet had actually broken. It was like fate was sending you a message.

You awakened from your daydreams as he stood up to his full height, and hopped off the stool you were sitting on to walk closer to him, noticing some dampness in your panties while doing so...

It wasn't your fault... he was the one looking way too hot doing such a simple task.

"thank you" You smiled up at him, your hands going to his chest,

He held his breath for a moment

"'s nothing babygirl"

"yeah? then... you think you could check my bedroom too?" you were biting your lip in a way that made your question take on a whole different meaning "to make sure nothing needs fixing y'know?"

"In your... bedroom?"

"yes, Joel- please" you added, with your best innocent doe eyes.

Which of course made him fold in a matter of seconds.

You'd taken on a different tactic. It was obvious at this point that the man was too shy and too unsure to give you an answer (or the one you wanted to hear anyway), which is why you needed to present him with the actual possibility right in front of him.

And yeah maybe it was manipulative, but fuck it if you didn't wanna feel the man inside of you.

The flashbacks of what he did to you on that bed filled his mind the moment he stepped into the room.

He needed to get a grip or he wouldn't be able to hide his growing bulge in a minute.

"Everything seems right"

"yeah? 'm not sure about the bed" you hummed, desperately hoping he would just go along with it "it makes a weird sound when I get on it"

He turned to you then, his eyes locking with yours for an infinite second.

"try" you said finally, nodding to the bed.

He watched you for a moment longer before, surprising you, he did it- he sat on the bed.

The mattress creaked underneath his weight, and you made quick work of strolling closer to him as he pressed his palms on the bed, checking for the inexistent "weird sound"

"it don't look like there's anythin' wron-" he looked up the moment your hands found his shoulders "Whatcha doin'? sweethear-"

You were sat on his lap before he could even finish the sentence.

"Joel" you spoke his name softly, as if it were a caress, your hands slowly moving up and down from his shoulders to his pecs, as you finally scooted closer to him so your core was right against the hardness in his jeans-

He inhaled sharply, his fingers curling on the bed.

"would you like to have sex with me or not?"

You accentuated your words with a slow roll of your hips, grinding onto him and making a soft groan build inside his throat

"this- this ain't really fair sugar"

A smirk pulled at your lips as you lowered your head to whisper in his ear "I never said I didn't play dirty, Mr. Miller"

Your right hand trailed lower, moving down his belly so slowly that Joel thought he might just lose his mind.

"You're y-young baby-"

Your hand had found his crotch, the outline of his dick fitting in your hand oh so perfectly.

"we've gone over this already Joel, I'm old enough" you purred, your lips leaving a peck just below his ear "old enough to do many many things"

He cursed under his breath

"I just... I don't understand"

A breathy laugh escaped you

"there's not much to understand really" you murmured "You're hot, and I like you, and I wanna get in your pants"

That earned you a chuckle

"and you're sure you won't regret this?" he asked, "you sure this is what you really want- that- that you don't want to give a boy your age a chance instead of me?"

You smiled as you looked up at him,

you'd never met a man so sweet

"Joel, I promise you I'm sure" you whispered "I promise you this is what I want, you are what I want"

Fucking damn it

How could he ever say no after that?

With those gentle eyes of yours looking at him, with your hand right over his cock...

"So?"

He was gonna think about the consequences tomorrow. Now- now there was only you.

"yes"

That single word sounded better than any song you'd ever heard.

yes

Your lips were on his before he could even think of changing his mind- and god did they feel like a dream.

His soft stubble grazed against your cheeks and upper lip, as you deepened the kiss, as he opened up to you, closing his eyes only after he'd taken you in, only after he could admire all that was happening to him for some godforsaken reason.

A growl rumbled from his chest when your core found his dick again, grinding onto it in a way, that combined with the way your tongue was tasting every inch of him, was making him see stars.

He didn't think he'd kissed like this in 30 years,

making out seemed like such a distant thing from him, he was much too old to do something like this, and yet... everything about you made him feel like a teenager all over again, so perhaps it was fitting-

and god he had forgotten how amazing it felt.

You started undoing his flannen, not even dreaming of breaking the kiss, and once you opened his shirt up, once his big strong chest was right there before you, you just had to look at it.

You leaned away, his lips chasing yours making you smile as your gaze lowered.

Jesus, he was the hottest man you'd ever seen.

Some hair and freckles adorned his pecs, his little belly was ever so cutely fighting against his jeans- his skin was soft beneath your palms as they explored every inch they could reach.

He was looking at you, watching your blow-out eyes, wondering what potion you'd drank to be this mesmerized by what he had to offer.

You smiled once you caught him, leaning closer to leave a quick kiss on his lips.

"take off your clothes"

You got off of him, and once he saw you get rid of your shirt, your boobs pushed together by a simple black bra that somehow, at the moment, seemed like the sexiest thing in the world, he rushed to follow suit, nearly tripping getting off his pants.

The moment he looked at you again, the world- the universe, it all went quiet.

You stood naked before him, a soft, perfect little thing, looking like a damn dream.

"babygirl" he could only breathe as you reached him again.

"What?" you laughed

"I-I don't even know"

You shook your head, grinning from ear to ear as he pressed his mouth on yours again.

He was already addicted.

In a haze, you found yourself on the bed, your body caged beneath his, his tongue fighting with yours, his hands all over- You almost had the urge to laugh at how desperate he seemed, how frantically he was touching every inch of you, exploring every piece of skin-

His hands were on your tits, fingers gently playing with your nipples, then on your belly, your waist, your ass, your thighs, until finally, he found your core, but before he had the time to fully reach it you'd switched up with him, straddling his lap as he laid flat on his back... only he couldn't keep away for even a second and he immediately sat up, grabbing your waist.

He couldn't even begin to complain that you'd already grabbed his cock, positioning it at your entrance.

You couldn't wait anymore- you needed him now.

"Wait-" he murmured, his breathing labored already "you sure you're... y'know ready?"

Oh my god, you swore you were gonna fall for him if he kept this shit up.

"Joel" you smiled, looking into his big brown eyes "I've been wet since you fixed the cabinet"

"I-" he blushed "You-you sure?"

You didn't answer him, you simply took one of his hands in yours and guided him to feel just how much you were telling the truth.

"Fuck"

"yeah" you smirked "that's just what you do to me, Mr. Miller"

Jesus fuck

Joel didn't think his cock had ever been so hard.

You didn't give him time to do or say anything- he'd gathered that's how you did things by now- as you slowly, oh so very slowly, started sinking onto him.

He was big, the kind of big you'd be feeling tomorrow morning. The stretch hurt just right, so overwhelmed by the unadulterated pleasure that it was barely there.

Soft little moaned gasps spilled from your lips with every inch added, your eyes were closed, only focusing on the extraordinary feeling as your nails clawed at Joel's chest.

Until, finally- you'd done it. You were fully sat on his cock, and while your eyelids fluttered open, you regained your ability to hear- to hear the curses leaving Joel's mouth between ragged breaths

"Jesus Christ- Jesus fucking Christ- Goddamnit"

His grip on your waist was so tight you were sure it was gonna leave a bruise... not that you were complaining.

"you ok?"

His eyes were shut close and creases of effort filled his forehead, while his chest went up and down as he desperately tried to breathe.

"Joel?"

He swallowed tightly, now breathing in through his nose before exhaling from his mouth.

"d-don't move"

You smiled as you promised "I won't"

God this was fucking embarrassing.

He'd spent three days training.

And yes he wasn't sure he would have said yes, but still, better safe than sorry- except for the fact it clearly hadn't worked.

He had spent three days fucking his own fist and trying to last as much as possible and he did do progress... but this... this was fucking nothing like what he'd felt in the last twenty years.

He was so fucked

"I-I'm sorry" he gritted out, sounding almost defeated "I- I haven't done this in a long time darlin'"

"And you... you feel so fuckin' good- fuck"

Your walls had inadvertently squeezed around him at his words, making a groan rumble in his chest.

"You have nothing to apologize for Joel"

he would have told you that your voice was making everything worse if he weren't so preoccupied with trying to calm his dick down.

"take all the time you need"

And so he did, his eyes remained closed as he breathed through the initial shock, until finally, after what felt like an eternity, he was back.

He had to stifle a moan once he opened his eyes back up.

There you were, your beautiful eyes trained on his with such gentleness and care that it made where his gaze fell to feel even more sinful.

Your boobs were barely touching his chest, and yet they could have been in his face for the effect they had on him- his hands were on your waist, holding onto your soft flesh, your thighs were straddling his lap, giving him no choice but to finally look between your bodies, where you two connected.

"Darlin'" he murmured, hypnotized

You smiled, watching him admiring you in silence

"You look..."

Every word that came to mind wasn't enough, you were otherwordly, you were perfection... so he just settled on the simplest, and perhaps truest of them all.

"you're beautiful"

Your cheeks burned with heat as his gaze came back to yours.

"so are you, Joel"

And that was that.

His lips found yours again, and you couldn't stop your hips as they started moving, rocking back and forth and bringing little waves of ecstasy to your core.

A desperate moan spilled from yours to Joel's mouth as he grabbed the back of your head, forcing you into an even deeper kiss as he started following your movements.

Your hands went to the back of his neck, grabbing at the hair at the nape of it as you finally started bouncing on his dick, and god- god it was even better than you could have ever imagined

The loudest growl sounded from his throat as you worked yourself up and down on his shaft.

He was in another universe, his actions were only reflexes as the hand not tangled in your hair found your tits and then your ass, grabbing at it with tenderness and need.

"Oh Joel" you cried, his dick filling you up better than anything ever before.

You could quite literally feel him in your stomach, every little vein and ridge of skin creating a permanent dent inside of you that only he was ever gonna be able to fill.

"sweetheart- fuck" he groaned on his own, your breaths mixing as you ghosted each other's mouths, his eyes raking over your body and face, while yours couldn't help but roll to the back of your head as his manhood hit a particularly good spot.

"You feel so- good Joel" you whimpered mindlessly, now quickening your pace, desperation taking over you completely.

the sound of him entering your drenched core mixed with the bed creaking underneath you as you drove yourself closer and closer to heaven.

The sound of his name falling from your lips was something that filled Joel's chest with an indescribable feeling, he felt on top of the word, and at the same time... at the same time he wished it had never left your mouth because it was now forever imprinted in his brain, and he knew nothing was ever gonna compare to it.

Oh and also- also it was making his little lasting problem real fucking hard to control.

But he was nothing if not a gentleman,

You were gonna come, he wasn't gonna have it any other way.

His hand lowered down your belly as you kept chasing your release, looking like a damn glimpse of paradise, until his thumb found your clit.

"Oh fuck" you moaned, your eyes snapping open to look at him- a dark glaze of lust shading your iris.

Joel realized too late that he hadn't taken into account how fucking tight you'd get, and was now really paying the consequences.

Plus when you looked at him like that... maybe just this one time he could not be a gentleman- I mean it's not like he had much choice, he was trying his hardest but- shit

"darlin'" he mumbled, his thumb circling your bud "w-where do ya- where do ya want it?"

You moaned louder just at the thought of him coming

"Inside"

It wasn't even a question

"N-no sweetheart I-I shouldn-"

"Joel" you interrupted him, your lips grazing his as you talked, your grip on his hair tightening "I want you to fill me up until I can feel you leaking out of me for days"

Good Christ and heaven

"Fuck me" he cursed, all his strength going on not coming right there and then "Darlin' please- tell me you're close"

You were already seeing stars as he spoke

"I'm close, baby- oh fuck" you cried "Joel!"

A tsunami of lust-filled pleasure coursed through your veins as your orgasm hit like a damn truck.

You couldn't even remember your name as you screamed his own into the thick air, as you moaned and cried and spasmed around him, feeling him do exactly what you'd asked- filling you up to the very brim.

He'd started coming the moment you did- he couldn't do anything about it, it was just unadulterated perfection-

His head fell between your neck and shoulders as groaned like a man possessed,

until finally, after a good three minutes, you were both back to the land of the living.

He looked twenty years younger when he looked at you again, and you- you looked like the most beautiful woman on earth.

A soft smile pulled at your lips, and you couldn't help but ask "How long before we can do it again?"

And fuck him, but his age didn't matter, with those eyes of yours, it might very well be minutes.

@kluvspedro @bluebiyou @casssiopeia @bean-is-reading @millerispunk @i-cant-stfu

[chuluoyi]

the secret wife

- nanami kento x reader

follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is

note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')

general masterlist

On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...

“Hello? Yuji—”

Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.

“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”

Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.

“Oh? What's—”

“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”

And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—

—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.

“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.

Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...

Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.

And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.

“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.

One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.

“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”

And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.

But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.

And did he feel so miserable afterwards.

. . .

“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”

Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.

"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."

"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"

"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."

And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”

"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"

"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"

Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—

"I'm going after them!"

"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"

Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.

Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.

Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.

The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.

"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"

Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.

"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"

"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"

Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"

With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?

Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"

And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."

"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.

"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"

After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.

"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"

"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"

"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.

"Eh? Huh!?"

Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—

Crash!

"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.

"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"

"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"

"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.

Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."

"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.

Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.

It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.

Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"

Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.

“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”

“S-so you are married!”

“Yes, that was what I—”

“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”

Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.

Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”

“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something—how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”

“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.

"Aren't we friends?! How—!"

"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.

Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.

"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"

"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.

Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.

There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.

"Gojo," Megumi blurted.

"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.

Epilogue

"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"

That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.

"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"

You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."

Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."

"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."

"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.

"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”

Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.

"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"

"People like Gojo are confused—"

Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."