#and i my heart sank because what do you mean he will never sing these little songs with us

[persephoneflouwers]

Liam loved 1D and his boys so much. Always giving put kind appreciation for all of them. Always singing their tunes.

Pure joy. I hope he told them and I hope they knew he loved them so much, now forever.

[hoseoksluna]

CENTURY | myg

pairing: boyfriend!idol!yoongi x f. reader 

genre: smut

word count: 3.6k

summary: when yoongi needs inspiration for the song he's been working on, you're not hesitant to help him.

taglist: join | cp: wattpad, ao3

warnings: idol yoongi working in his studio being all stressed out is a warning on its own, he's also immensely hot and calls himself oppa (god help me i am a weak girl), mentions of a nasty punishment, yoongi is kinda mean, and a little bit horny, clit spanking *heart eyes*, oral sex (f. receiving), praise kink—usage of stickers, raw sex.

note: my god, this was a drag at first but because i feel sm better today, i finally finished this and i feel myself returning to the hoseoksluna that i was before i got sick. :( this was fun to write today omg. yoongi is absolutely delicious in this and i can't wait to start writing smoke 3 after this. my babies, enjoy this smutty one shot. i love you. spam my inbox, i miss you! give me a warm welcome, please. MWAH.

Habitually, singing for him was your escapism. You’d close yourself up in a bubble, withdrawing from the surrounding gray world, and you’d slink away to a realm brimming with vivid colors. In his songs, you could be anyone. A figment of his imagination that had more life in its veins than you ever had the taste of. You’d forget, for hours upon hours, about the anguish of your daily life and mental issues that would trouble you and, taking his hand, he would take you to Neverland, watch over you, then take you home. 

This time, however, he didn’t take you to that fantasy land. 

He took you somewhere darker. 

The energy in his lab was potent with something that tickled you ever so gently when you stepped inside. A dusky room with an even heftier, crepuscular layer of vexation. You could feel it thumping beneath your skin after it grazed you with its fingertips, weaseling its way in, settling, stilling. Your boyfriend didn’t turn around when he heard you shut the door, nor when your tights-clad feet paddled on the floor, as absorbed as he was in his work. No shoes inside the Genius Lab—that was the first rule, one you were disciplined enough from him to remember, even if someone woke you up in the middle of the night. 

You paid a great price, once upon a time. 

You had walked in with your Nike’s when he called you over, wet and smeared with the snow from the winter’s artwork outside. Despite the fact you rubbed the soles on the mat in the building of his workplace long before you strutted all the way to his studio, there were still little snowflakes that clung to your sneakers. It was your first time there and Yoongi seemed to have forgotten to let you in on the rules. And once he saw the mess you made, he told you off. 

Kissed you quite roughly. 

Made you promise to never do that again, playfully. 

Sank you to your knees and bent you over those melting snowflakes. Spanked you so hard that he engraved the first rule of the Genius Lab into your system. 

No shoes inside. 

Then, he patted your head. 

Gave you a silver star sticker, resembling the snowflake, for being such a good girl that learns well. 

You had stuck it on the table right beside his laptop, an etched memory that you recollected every time he’d invite you over. 

It’s what he’s mindlessly rubbing with his fingertip as you walk over to him, another winter later, embedding your digits into the ebony night of his hair, the long strands so satiny and sleek. Yoongi gazes up at you from his computer, pale violet flecks adorning the skin beneath his weary, yet ever so trenchant eyes, and you pout at the sight of him. There must be something wrong with the process of his album-making and he’s determined to fix it. 

Yoongi takes off his headphones, wraps an arm around your waist. You’re wearing a little black dress for him with a low neckline that uncovers everything private as he leads you to sit down on his lap, greeting you with a raspy hello and a kiss that tells you he needs you more than his own countenance lets on. 

You linger in the close proximity, peppering his mouth with tiny kisses that make him visibly relax—his shoulders slump against his chair and he lifts your knees, placing them in the snug crook between his side and his arm, his hand spreading forest fire down your calf, stopping at your ankle, swathing it with those flames. 

You cease your kisses, overcome with his body heat, and butterflies zap you in your tummy when he continues to kiss your mouth with those sweet little pecks. 

Prolonging the last kiss, he peers down at you with the world’s most affectionate adoration and you blush. You’ve tasted the dulciness of all the seasons with him, and yet it feels as though you’ve just started dating. His love has long made its home within you, but you can still sense its freshness in your bones. 

It will never get old. 

“I love these, baby,” he husks, his eyes growing more lidded in the heated, cozy atmosphere guarded by the fire of his body, and he drags a hand up and down your leg, spreading his admiration on the nylon of your tights that he speaks of. “You came just at the right time.” 

He nuzzles his face in your neck while he paws at your feet and you soften, brushing your fingers through his hair. You think he needs to get out of this place and breathe in some fresh air for his brain to recuperate and be filled with the flimsy, ivory sparks of inspiration. 

It’s snowing outside. 

It always seems to be when he invites you to his secret spot during the winter months. 

“What’s wrong, hm?” you ask, requiring the specifics in order to help him as much as you can. “What is it this time?” 

Yoongi grumbles nonsense in your neck, the sound muffled and indecipherable, and you laugh, softly, lifting his head. 

“I literally didn’t catch a word you said,” you whine, squishing his cheeks, and Yoongi feignedly sobs, scrunching his eyes shut. You laugh, wiggling his head, encouraging him to tell you what made him darken the energy of his studio so devastatingly. 

He inhales a deep breath in and takes his hand to your bum, fondling it. “I miss your pussy.” 

You burst out into obscene laughter, wiping a hand down his face. “Be fucking serious.” 

Yoongi chuckles, but then breaks into false little sobs all over again. “The melodies aren’t working together, I can’t transform the ideas in my head into this song and I just miss your pussy so bad. I wanna eat it.” 

So that’s the source of that dark energy in the lab. 

He’s horny. 

He wails into your bosom, deepening your laughter that melts into an endearing coo. One that lifts his head and makes a grin blossom on his pale face, a dab of color rushing to the surface. 

A pretty lotus flower, opening for you. 

You poke a finger into his cheek, your heart constricting at the cute way your nail makes a round dent in that flourishing flesh. “I thought you called me over because you wanted my vocals.” 

Yoongi squeezes your bum, sucking in a breath. “I did. I wanted to finish the melodies so I could record your voice, but shit fucking happens. I thought we could write the lyrics together.” 

You bite your lip, finding the idea mesmerizing, and your chest clenches, a certain longing for it forming inside. A light flickers in Yoongi’s abysmal eyes at your reaction—and you wish you could fix this situation for him, remove the block and replace it with a creativity of your own. 

An idea pops into your mind, abruptly. 

You widen your eyes, your smile growing, little by little. Yoongi straightens, his features mirroring yours, and the picture hope paints upon his countenance only drives your idea forward. 

“What?” 

“Oh my god, Yoongi.” You clasp a hand over your mouth. “What if we write the lyrics first and just hum random melodies, see what fits best?” 

He thinks about it, tilting his head. And then destroys the realm that your little idea created. 

“I’m sorry, baby, but that never works with me. I know artists that do that, but whenever I tried, I just reached a dead end,” he mutters and you pout, furrowing your brows. He lets you soak in it for a little while before he shakes his head. “I have a better idea.” 

Yoongi pushes his laptop to the side and lifts you up into his arms as if you weigh nothing, setting you down in place of it. He moves his chair forward. Spreads your legs. Kisses the inner of your thigh and you fall back, your palms landing on the ivory keys of his keyboard and creating a soft music that raises his brows. 

“Do that again.” 

You smile and lift your hand, dropping it on the same notes that you did by accident. He looks over to see which ones you played and he kisses the front of your thigh before he reaches over for his notepad and pen, writing it down. 

“You’re my little angel, I swear,” he says without taking his eyes off of his writing, then he extends an arm behind you and finishes the melody with a certain ease that causes him to relax even more—and your smile to deepen in your face. 

You blush, feeling like that winged creature—assigned to his side to help him. 

“I brainstormed some lyrics the other day,” Yoongi mumbles and begins to stare you down with an intention that coils in your gut, your heart quickening its rhythm. “How about you bounce off of it, make up some lyrics while I eat you out? I can play the melody for you that we just made.” 

Your mouth parts, your throat drying. Warmth pools in your core, the idea of Yoongi playing on the keyboard while he does something so intimate to you bringing you down to an abyss of madness. He hands you his notepad after he flips to the page with the lyrics he mentioned. Your eyes skim over his neat, black handwriting, the random words that could string together a sentence if there was a little work put in it. 

But how are you supposed to focus in those circumstances? It’s not just his dick that makes you braindead—it’s his tongue that does it in the first place. 

“What do you say, baby?” he persists, dipping down and scattering kisses along that sensitive part of your thigh, his breath wafting over your core as he switches to the other one, spoiling it with those same wet kisses. 

You catch a glance of his shining tongue and that does it for you. 

Your heart thumps, violently—and your pussy drools. 

“Fuck, Yoongi.” 

That does it for him, too. 

He goes to rip your tights right in the middle, but you yelp, stopping him. 

“No, don’t rip them. They were expensive and they’re my only pair for the winter.” 

Yoongi gives you a look, cocks his brow. “Why didn’t you say? I could buy you some.” 

You clamp your mouth shut. You don’t like to use his money to buy yourself personal stuff because you have a job of your own and you’re able to take care of yourself, but lately, with prices rising and the rent growing more expensive, there’s little from your paycheck that you could spend on things like these. And you still need to save up for way tougher times. 

“I could never ask you to do that, are you kidding?” 

Yoongi’s gaze darkens. “Who said you couldn’t?” 

You open your mouth to argue with him, but only a yelp comes through when he swiftly tugs the waistband of your tights over your bum and up your legs, lifting them in the process and folding you in half. 

You’re sure he’s ripped them. 

You’re fucked. 

You lean back, landing once again on his keys and at this point he laughs, darkly, telling you which notes to write down and with a shaky hand—you do. 

“You’re getting so many fucking stickers today.” 

Your heart stops its feral beats and you gaze down at him with a tormented look, your brows furrowed, eyes lidded and cheeks flushed. Yoongi bites his lip and gets his sheet of silver little stars. 

He peels one out. “This one's for you coming at the right time.” He sticks it to that one side of your inner thigh that he left unkissed, the sticky part latching to your skin without a hint of a problem. “And this one’s for your smart little brain.”

He sticks it to the bone right across your cunt, smoothing it out with his thumb that then begins to travel and crosses the distance to the soaked center of your panties. Yoongi sucks in a breath as he peers down at the outline of your flesh, parting your thighs a little to gaze up at you through his lashes. “You have two tasks,” he rasps, brushing his lips across your clothed, dampened flesh. 

You grip the table beneath you, letting out a whiny sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Pay attention.” 

A simple, low order and you pop them open, breathing out in staccatos. He runs that thumb over your clit, puts a little pressure over it. You bite your lip, straining your ears, but the faint pleasure makes it a little bit difficult for you. 

“I’m gonna rub this clit and you don’t get my tongue unless you tell me the name of the store, where you’re getting new pairs of tights from today.” He focuses on your nub, circling it with soft grazes that he knows they get you riled up nice and fast, needy and drenched. It’s what he does when you’re watching a movie together and wind up not knowing how it ends. “And once you come for me, you get another sticker for being such a good girl. Is that clear?” 

Your lungs heave and your mind spins, your brain cells shrinking with your arousal. You lick your lips. Wetness stains your panties even more. “And the other task?” 

He slaps the side of your thigh, making you jump. “I asked you a question, did I not?” 

Such abrupt meanness. Other times, it would get you going, but today it’s not something that you’re really feeling. Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’re ovulating and you need the gentleness that he’s more than capable of giving you. 

You drift a hand down his face, stopping with your thumb at his lips, tracing the upper line. So soft, so puffy. “Be nice to me, Yoongi.” 

His eyes round and a glint perches itself on the top of his chocolate irises. Yoongi sets your feet on both of his armrests. Leans his head against your thigh, looking up at you with a tender half smile. 

“Is that an order?” he asks, flattening his fingers across your clit and strumming it, the pleasure heightening and you sink your teeth into the bottom pillow of your mouth, your body following the wave of the delight he provides you, rolling. 

“Yes. Be nice or no pussy.” 

He gasps, lowly, his smile transforming into that smirk of his that has the tendency to weaken you through and through. “You wouldn’t do that to me.” 

Your heart throbs and you love it. “Yes, I would.” 

You go to close your legs and sit up, but he stops you. “Okay, fair enough.” 

Oh, that solid calmness of his, perfumed with his horniness. You grin, pleased. “Will you be nice?” 

Yoongi licks over the bare skin of your thigh, rubbing his face in it. “I’ll be an angel like you if you do the tasks.” 

You roll your eyes. A quid pro quo. Fair enough. 

“Okay, be an angel to me then and come here,” you purr, aware of the fact that he got you into this mirrored maze of his horniness and you love it, delight in it, which is the sole, unabashed reason why you tug the back of his head down to your cunt, holding him to you. 

Yoongi opens his mouth just at the right time, licking over your clothed clit and moaning. But then he fights against your hold and spanks your pussy, smiling playfully up at you while biting his lip. 

You jump, whimpering. 

“I didn’t hear you say the name of the store,” he retorts, rubbing, properly, your bedewed nub with slow, agonizing circles. 

Fuck. 

Your breathing quickens and you scramble your blank brain to remember any store that has the least expensive tights. You say the name of the first one that pops up. 

Yoongi doesn’t like your answer, though. 

He spanks your clit, gently. 

“Think again. I’m not buying you anything that will last you for a day. Don’t play me.” 

You can’t help the heavy smile rising on your face, your cheeks heating up so much that they ache. And it helps you, his bull-headedness on buying you high-quality garments that are worth the money, to fight—like he did against your hold—your deeply imprinted independence and utter, shyly, with little hiccups, the name of the store that will keep your legs warm throughout the unforgiving Korean wintertime. 

“That’s it, baby. Good girl. Let Oppa take these off now.” 

Your stomach flips at the title. You’ve always been obsessed with it—as it, without fail, provoked your independence and slowly transformed you into the mindset of a little girl, taken care of by someone stronger, smarter and older than her. All while keeping it intact. 

Yoongi knows you can do everything on your own. And he supports it. But it doesn’t mean he’s not willing to give you a hand. 

The same hand he now uses to bring your panties to the waistband of your thighs near the back of your knees, dragging it down that skin. He spreads your cunt with both of his hands, gasping lowly at the sheen that greets him and magnetically pulls him in. 

He kitten licks your clit and your elbows tremble, giving out on you—another melodies wafting through the air that make him chuckle into your pussy, engraving vibrations that encourage you to lean back all the way and take what he gives you. 

“Write that down, can you do that?” he asks, and when he hears you clicking his pen, he tells you which notes those were. You scribble it down, messily, your hand quivering and painting an obscure picture in his notepad as he begins to suck on your clit in intense waves. You shudder, terribly, the lines of his own pen dark, long and disordered like you. 

You give in, moaning so loud that he intones with you. 

And what you never expected—the tones of your noises provide him with an inspiration he cannot miss. Withdrawing with a wet chin and stealing his pen from you, he jots it down, propping the notepad on your thighs, smiling at the picture you painted. 

Writes something else down, too, while you quiver for him, waiting for his tongue. 

He kisses your thigh, ravagedly. “Sing these lyrics.” 

Taking it from him, the words blur on the paper because he sinks a finger inside your heat, curling it to that spot that he favors, fucking you with a fast motion that unables you, completely, to let out a sound colored by his geniality. 

“Come on, baby. Sing for Oppa.” 

You cry out, clenching your muscles—scream as he latches his mouth to your clit, flicking it with the tip of his equally genius tongue. 

The lab spins, not just your mind. 

“I can’t—I can’t. Oh my God, Yoongi, fuck,” you drag out the curse word, the notepad falling out of your hand and plopping onto the ground. 

Yoongi hums, delighted, sucking on your nub so vivaciously that your orgasm nears. As if sensing it, he adds another finger in. Validates the incoming of your splendid explosion by making quick, little, deep sounds that lead you to that peak. 

You grasp his hair, tightly, humping his mouth. From your own spill screams that fade into soft moans, resplendent of the notes he liked so much and he fucks your hole faster. Pulls out his mouth just a little, flicking your clit from side to side—and you realize he did it so he can watch you come for him. 

Come for your Oppa. 

And you do. With a squeak, one that fades to a legato, tender moan of his title. With an eye contact that freezes time for a century. And, suddenly, just like that—it’s just you, him and the winter. 

Snowflakes that ache to seep into yours and his cheeks. 

Yoongi growls. His male pheromones spill out of him like liquid that washes over you and you get a sticker. 

Right in the center of your mound. 

And he fucks you into wintry oblivion, a snowstorm that swaddles you closer and closer to him. The table rattles, key notes sound out, the slapping of skin conjures ideas in the magnificence of his brain. And then he comes. 

With a final stroke and a rope of his cum all over the sticker near your pleasured cunt, he resumes the time. 

But both you and him are newly constituted by that winter-kissed century, chiseled by it and irrevocably changed by it. 

Yoongi cleans you up and dresses you. You find out he didn’t rip your tights and you give him such a soft, endeared look for it that he coos, chuckling, and pats your disheveled hair, smoothing it down. He kisses you once he fixes you up and, grabbing his keys, phone and wallet, he drives you to the mall, to that exact store you mentioned, to buy you a myriad of tights to last you for a half of a century, grazed and fondled by winter. 

And he leads you back to the studio, besprinkled with the snow’s affection, where you watch him create a song out of your pleasured voice, sampling one of your favorite oldie’s tunes that you end up yanking him up to his feet to dance with him to it. The raspy voice of Ray Charles envelops Yoongi’s hands as he guides your hips and he kisses you until the late night hours. 

And in those late night hours, he watches you, like the angel you are, as you sing the poetry he wrote with your help. 

Neverland doesn’t exist anymore. Not for you at least. 

The darker place he took you to is one breathing with the gesture of helping your lover. Warm, moody and timbered. The licks of flames and the earnestness of a love that depends, without fear, on the other person. 

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ divider by kthice ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild, @jjk7k, @parkinglot-nights, @bethvar, @Sexytholland, @yoongibaybee, @crystaleah,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan, @euphoricmyth, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, @hobiberrystuff, @kam9404.

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[lizzy019]

𝐼𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒞𝓁𝓊𝒷, 𝐼𝓃 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒽𝑒𝑒𝓉𝓈, & 𝐼𝓃 𝑀𝓎 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓉.

Dom!Johnny Cade x Soc!Fem!Reader

cw -> mentions of his parents fighting, some angst, degradation 0.0, smutty but sweet

Word Count -> 1.5K

Brooo this request has me digging deep in thought, I love it!

A drink in hand and a soft sway of your hips as you chat lightly with an acquaintance of yours.

The party was dedicated to a friend who was celebrating some big event in their life, you weren’t informed and frankly, you were only there for free drinks.

“Did you hear? Apparently they invited some of the Greasers to the party, isn’t that swell? Maybe there’ll be a fight.” Your friend murmured to you, sipping their alcoholic beverage while whooshing over to another friend of theirs.

Your heart sank.

The Greasers? Maybe Johnny wouldn’t be there, hopefully he wouldn’t be. You prayed he wouldn’t be-

Three knocks hit on the door, and everything ruined your vain attempt at believing your ex and his buddies wouldn’t arrive.

Someone scurried off to open the door, and instantly a wave of fear and reticence hits you. He was right there, with some of his gang buddies all high and confident.

But he wasn’t.

He never was.

But he looked.. more sad in a way. You couldn't help but pity him.

Refilling your drink and paying the little bill for all the drinks you’ve bought previously, you prepared yourself to head out and escape your ex as soon as possible.

Except.. you accidentally bumped into him and got a bit of your drink on his shirt. But his sad face just got sadder and your heart couldn’t help but wish to help.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Do you want me to drive you back to your place so you can change? I didn’t mean to spill my drink on you.” You apologized instantly, looking up at Johnny with a frown.

He was still as pretty as he was the day you left.

With a reluctant expression, Johnny nodded and followed you out. The cold of your drink seeping through his clothes had him shivering in the cold night air.

“My stop’s here.” He muttered out, watching you park just a bit further from his house. A small thing you did when you two were together to keep him out of trouble with his family.

“You wanna maybe.. come inside with me?” He asked shyly.

How bold and peculiar!

Was the shy Johnny really asking you to join him at his house after everything? You were nervous, but took the keys from your car and nodded as you exited the vehicle. His house looked the same, all small but so cozy. Except for what laid inside.

Johnny walked in, ignoring all the arguing of his parents. They were yelling, hitting each other, glass shards on the floor, it was horrible.

You pitied him, and gently offered to take his jean jacket to wash.

“I’m.. sorry once again for ruining your clothes. I can pay you the money for new ones if it’ll help you at all.” You murmured.

Johnny didn’t quite care, his eyes locating a new shirt to wear while he threw out the purple stained one.

“Forget it. I can’t believe you.” He started, finding a new dark gray tee to wear instead.

His words had you shocked, but truly you knew you deserved it. You broke up with him, you left because you thought he embarrassed you rather than really caring about him. But you prioritize your reputation, as you do with everything.

“Johnny, it’s not that I don’t like you anymore. Really, I do! You’re a sweet guy with a kind heart, the softest brown eyes and the most beautiful smile. It’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just.. I have an image to uphold.” You sighed, fiddling with your fingers.

“That doesn’t give you no damn right to use me! I did everything I could to make you happy, I was the one who really made you feel special, didn’t I?” He fought back.

This had you pause, you’d never seen Johnny yell or fight back, advocate for himself or even use harsh words to voice his true feelings.

He did though. He made your heart sing every time he’d smile at you, or every time he’d say “I love you” or “Sugar.”

“Well, what was I supposed to do? I have a picture to uphold, I have a reputation to keep on streak, I can’t be seen with you whether I damn want it or not! Johnny, I’ve loved you for so long that my heart burns for you, but I dunno how this is gonna affect me in the long run!” You exclaimed, hand coming to grip your hair in pure frustration for his lack of understanding.

This made Johnny freeze up, he was truly stumped for a minute before his memory rejogged and he retorted with what was nagging at his mind since the breakup.

“Well, why does it matter what everyone else thinks, huh? If you’re really bein’ honest and you like me for who I am, why does your reputation come first and not true happiness? True joy and satisfaction in life?” He vociferated, crying out in anguish and disbelief.

Your whole body froze, watching with rapt attention before your body acted quicker than your mind could stop it.

Hands seizing his waist and lips mashing against his, the kiss you two engendered was congenial and heavenly, true emotions showing as tongues invaded separate mouths.

All that could be heard were soft, dulcet kisses along with the occasional gasp or whine. Your hands furiously trying to get him out of his shirt and pants, desperate to have what you craved and longed for for so long.

Without hesitation, Johnny shoved your body to his bed, a soft creak emitting from the weight before he stripped himself bare, watching you do so too.

“You know how long I’ve been jackin’ off to the thought of ya? I’ve seen you in my dreams, sugar.. seen you so many times I thought my heart was about to jump out and run to find you.” He whined, giving your aching core two fingers for prep while he stroked his own floppy length to prep it for what was to come.

The words that had flown out of Johnny’s mouth so casually had you blushing like a goof. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t experiencing the same thing almost every night.

“Baby, ‘m sorry, gotta have you now.” He apologized before spreading apart your folds to thrust his now semi erect length into your core.

Moans were flying out of your mouths, creating symphonies only conducted by the two of you in the solace of each other’s company. What a heavenly feeling it was, to finally be connected with someone you strived for yet couldn’t quite reach.

“Johnny! Yeah baby, come on, go deeper. Fuck!” You cried out, having to stuff your face into his pillows so his parents wouldn’t accidentally hear.

Johnny was relentless and merciless in his movements, watching the way your ass bounced every time his pelvic bone hit the fat of your cheeks. It was satisfying in a way.

He was dominating your body in such a fierce way, it made you feel powerless and to feel powerless because of Johnny was insanely erotic and hot.

“Shut the hell up, you whiny ass. You’re gonna get us caught.” He almost growled it out, hand pushing your head into the pillow while his other slapped your rear in light degradation.

You simply whimpered into the fabric, giving into such pleasure. Your walls beginning to spasm as your knees start to buckle.

“Close! Close!” You tried to alert him, but your voice was too muffled by the sound. It was worrying, but you were too engulfed in pleasure to care.

And like you’d suspected, a sharp searing pleasure dissipated any worry you had as you let your body talk for you. Mass amounts of congenial ecstasy took your body up to cloud nine, and you felt a moist sensation begin to cool between your legs.

Had he cum? Maybe.

Nope, it was you. Long ropes of your own translucent release of pleasure were spewed out from your core to his legs, your legs, and the fabrics beneath you.

But Johnny kept going, mercilessly and maliciously pounding into you with no regard for your overstimulation.

This had you squirming and writhing, enduring such pained pleasure that you didn’t quite know how to handle it. Yet in just a few more seconds and a few more hard thrusts, he came undone as well.

A soft moan was heard when he released all the tension and built up feelings he had been stuck with for so long.

“Ohh baby, yeah..” He whimpered, slowly pulling out and flopping on his side to rest beside you.

The moments that passed by were simply spent in each other’s arms, limbs tangled as you both muttered apologies to each other. This was what two heartbroken people needed, the right love and care.

Yet just as you were about to fall asleep, a knock was heard from behind the door before it swung open and you were met with an angry Johnny’s mom.

“What the hell were you two doing in here?!”

[sunflowerxthoughts]

Know me - Eddie Munson x fem! Reader

Request: Could you maybe do one where Eddie and reader are best friends and he has a key to her house, he goes in one day and hears her singing in the shower, and she’s really good but he never knew she could sing like that? Maybe end with smut or fluff or whatever you think!

a/n: I had a vision and ran with it I hope you enjoy it, I tweaked it a bit!. Best friends to lovers babyyy! This was my first request and I'm so happy about it.

Y/N had always been branded one of the boys. Not in a pick me kind of way but in a my whole friend group is made out of guys and no one has really bothered to see past that kind of way. 

But truth be told, she enjoyed things labeled as girly. She just didn't see it as girl or boy stuff, just stuff she enjoyed. Why was dnd for boys and pop music for girls? It was just a game and just music in the end. But she knew people didn't quite see it like that. 

But when you are a teenager and everyone starts dating and no one seems interested in you; you notice. And most likely it will make you insecure. But what she didn't notice; was the way Eddie looked at her. It was the biggest of clichés, not that he'd know. She looked at her as if she held the universe in the palm of her hands. But still there was something holding him back. 

It had been the start of yet another Hellfire session, when she was coming back from the toilets, she stopped in her tracks after hearing the boys talk about her. 

"Dude we both have girlfriends, you can't advice us like you have the universal truth about love." Mike snorts mockingly. 

"So? You take Y/N's advice all the time!" 

"Yeah but that's different!" Dustin ads. "She's a girl, she knows her stuff." 

"Yeah but she is one of the boys. Does it really count?"

"Huh?" 

"I mean, do you think she'll get a boyfriend while the whole school thinks she is one of us? Not because we're freaks but because they think he is more like a boy than a girl. She's just as hopeless as me in that department."

Her heart sank to her stomach. Eddie Munson, her crush and just her friend was saying she was hopeless. And still it wasn't enough for him. 

"She's pretty, sure. But would you like a girlfriend that played dnd?"

"I would." Said Gareth, who thought Eddie was being unreasonable and was just not processing his own feelings. "I'd kill to have a girlfriend like her. She's fun and she plays dnd and she likes a whole bunch of things you guys don't know about because you have convinced yourselves that she can't be anything but a tomboy. And even if she was so what? Are we really in a position to judge?"

Relieved that at least someone is willing to stand up to her like that, she makes her way to her bag, and after a moment she decides she no longer wants to be there. 

"I'm going home, I don't feel too well."

"Do you want me to drive you?"

"No it's fine!" She says fast. "I'll walk, I'm sure it'll help."

And just like that she was gone. Clueless little Eddie thought she'd check in on her afterwards, it was probably just a headache. But still he wanted to take care of her and he knew he could at least make her feel a little better. 

He opened the door as he had a key to the house, just like she had one for the trailer. Being the eldest from the group, they thought it would be good for emergencies. And they were comfortable enough with it. When he got near her room, he could hear the faint sound of her voice. 

Eddie thought he had died and gone to heaven. From inside the shower Y/N's voice could be heard absolutely belting to Metallica's Nothing Else Matters so effortlessly. It felt like a whole dream that it would soon sour. She stepped out of the bathroom clad in some PJ's and hair in a towel. 

"Oh, hey Edds. Everything okay?" 

"I didn't know you could sing like that."

"Oh you heard?"

"And enjoyed! Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know Eddie, there's a lot you don't know about me." She says just so casually, like she hasn't been planning this the second she heard him enter through the door. "You don't know I love flowers because they are a different way to comunicate. You don't know I love a slasher just as much as I love a rom com. You don't know I actually do wear make up and find it incredibly relaxing. And I love dnd and jumping into puddles and I want to fall in love just as much as fucking Nancy Wheeler wants to. But I guess I'm hopeless, huh?"

"You heard…"

"No shit, Sherlock. You guys are loud as hell when you gossip." She wasn't angry anymore, just disappointed. "And I hope you know how much it sucks Gareth is the only one who makes time to actually get to know me."

"He does?"

"He comes here every Sunday afternoon and we bond. He's really into flowers too. But that is not the point."

"The point is, I want to know everything there is to know about you."

"Wait what?"

"I'm not good with feelings but there's stuff that I know. And by stuff I mean everything. It's like - this is the first time I feel the need to confess. Ever. I want to know every little thing about you."

"Eddie-"

"No! I know that you like your coffee with cinnamon and a sprinkle of cocoa power but I want to know when to make you hot chocolate, as silly as it sounds. And I want to sing with you. I don't care if it's Metallica or fucking Abba."

"You'd never sing Abba."

"Here's the thing, I'd even wear those fucking glittery outfits if it made you happy."

"Yeah right." 

"Fucking try me I dare you. Give me those white boots you'll see how much I am willing to do for you." 

"Why?"

"Seriously?"

"Yeah you made me feel bad about myself I want to hear you say it word by word. Come on, Teddy."

"Shit I- I really fucking like you and I'm very sorry okay?" He sighs, reaching for the back of her neck to make her look at his eyes. "And I really want to kiss you right now so please don't tell me I've made a fool of myself and let me do it yeah?"

"Yeah."

Eddie feels in heaven once again. How on Earth did he get so goddam lucky he can't even fathom. It's a sticky sweet kiss that turns the heat in the room up as soon as she settles in his lap. 

"Oh and Eddie?"

"Yeah"

"I wear lingerie too"

"Fuuuuck me."

[abyss-of-mine]

Twisted Wonderland- Courting The Dragon

Inspired by this fanfic

Warning: Handjob, fingering, unprotected soft sex, biting

"What it means for dragons to court each other-"

Alice sat on the lap of a dragon who was in the form of a naked human. They met him outside their village, just wanting to go explore for anything interesting in the woods when they crossed paths. Never they imagined they would meet a dragon, let alone being courted by one.

"Sharing their food with their mate, protecting them from any possible danger, offering their most cherished treasure to them." He paused with a smirk, reaching up to their neck. "Biting each other. Most common to bite here-" his finger traced the side of their neck and dragged down to where their heart is- "or here."

They bit their lip from nervousness and a bit of fear. "Why do that? Isn't that dangerous considering you're biting sensitive areas?"

He chuckled, purposely fanning their neck with his breath. "It's a sign of trust, respect to be allowed to harm your mate. It's also a promise to protect them for dragons can bite hard enough to leave the scales unable to heal."

They felt his fangs faintly on their skin, growing more worried for what he plans to do to them. "It's quite romantic and poetic, don't you think?"

"It's interesting," they found their voice to answer.

He pouted and gripped their chin, forcing them to look to him. "Then what do you find romantic, my dear?"

His eyes stared into them, sharp and intimidating. They answered, saying spending time together, laughing together, sharing interests, etc. He called it boring and said they do that every day and not once it felt romantic to him.

They frowned, slapping his hand away and facing forward with arms cross like a pouting wife. He chuckled and leaned them against him, arms wrapping around their waist and his head resting on their shoulder again.

"... I would love to mark you as mine." Their heart sank at those words as his finger moved along their neck. "Maybe... Right here. It would be the perfect spot for everyone to see and know you're mine. Though, my fangs pretty sharp, you may not feel it."

He turned his head to their ear, grinning as he whispered, "but I want you to feel it."

"Then what's stopping you? I'll in the right position for you bite me."

He nuzzled his face against their neck, happy with the response. "Biting is done during a... intimate moment between mates."

"Is that why you're naked? Are you tempting me?"

He darkly chuckled, sliding his hand down between their thighs. "Maybe it's just because it's more comfortable this way. I don't normally wear clothes, being all neutral is more relaxing."

How did they end up here again? And why did they accept being his partner? Yes, he is good looking and makes their heart race and sends butterflies to fight in their stomach. But this is dangerous for their physical and mental health. Ugh, what do they do?

It's clear he wants to "mate," but can they do that? They're just a seamstress, aren't bards suppose to be seducing dragons and maybe laying them? Ace and Deuce telling them to sing at the theater doesn't count.

Why must they be sitting on the lap of temptation?

His other hand moved between their chest and hook a finger with their collar as his lips brushed against their neck. "What will it be, love? May I partake in a more intimate moment with you and maybe mark you as my mate?"

"Get fucked and find out." Ace's voice cut through their mind, remembering him jokingly saying that to a villager he was friends with. Oh, how those words come in at the right worst time.

His hand slid under their skirt and felt up their legs. Ugh, why did the ginger's words popped in their mind? Fuck it, I guess.

They turned around to take his face in their hands and kiss him, quickly twisting their body to properly straddle him. His body fell backwards onto his blanket nest and gently rested his hands on their back.

Their hands travelled along his body, feeling the softness of his skin, the tone muscles and the warmth his body radiates. They moved their lips to his neck and kneaded the skin between their mouth. Their hand touched his hip bone and followed the outline to a more sensitive area.

They blushed from nervousness and embarrassment as they sat up to look down at him, down at his naked body. They always looked away or snapped their neck from not wanting to see his family's gems, but today they're daring themself to look.

He smirked mischievously and slid a hand down his form. "Heh. Like what you see, love? Do you find my body attractive?"

"You already know the answer." They dared to touch it and heard him gasp in surprise.

They smirked to themself as their fingers danced on his member, hearing him groan and growl everytime their fingers moved along the base. It was slow and gentle, looking at him grow restless from their teasing.

"Do you know how distracting it is to see you walking around with this-" they quickly stroked them and received a surprised reaction- "on full display. Shameful if you ask me."

He growled and flipped them on top of the pile of blankets, surprising them and causing them to freeze up as he hovered over them. "Shameful? No, you misunderstood. I gladly walk around like this, I gladly have you partake in intimate activities with me."

He grinned and leaned down to "kiss" their neck, it more like bitting, while their fingers got entwine in his hair. Their other hand carefully moved down his hip and wrapped around his member. Breathy moans escaped his throat as their hand sped up, making him grip the blankets and focus on panting in their ear.

His hips bucked in their hand, feeling the aches coming from him. He bit their jaw a little harder as his breathing got heavy and whispered their name so tempting. His hand slid under their dress and rubbed against their underwear before ripping it off. They gasped in surprise as he tossed the useless fabric away.

His fingers rubbed in between their folds, feeling how wet they were getting. He wetted his fingers and shoved them in, hearing them yelp before silencing them with his lips. His member throbbed in their hand, wanting to reach its high. They tried to readjust their hand around him to stroke him faster.

He moaned against their lips, sticking his fingers in more roughly and faster. They gripped his hair, digging their nails into their palm as he finally hit his end. Their dress was strained when he pulled away to look at the mess.

He smiled smugly, his fingers still pumping into them. They quietly panted, feeling embarrassed from the sounds coming from their throat. He took his fingers out and placed his hand on the blankets under them, seeing them silently complaining.

"I'll return the pleasure soon, but I must ask how do you want to be pleasured? I can continue using my fingers, or-" he held up two fingers symbolizing a V and stuck out his tongue between them.

Maybe on a later date. Their face got red at the gesture and averted their eyes somewhere else.

"Of course there's always me ripping off your dress and making love to you until you're moaning my name. Your choose."

"Umm." Why did he make that gesture?!?! Their mind is gone and empty after seeing that.

His hand traced their waist, slow and gentle. Hm, feeling him against them and being gentle to them sounds pretty good. His hand slid under their bra and massaged their breast, rubbing the nipple as his other hand stroke their hip.

They pressed their lips together, knowing how dangerous this could get. "Make love to me."

He grinned evilly as their dress was pulled over their head and tossed without a care, then had his lips on theirs and their thighs in his hands. They grabbed his head, feeling his member carefully pushing inside them. Their nails dug into his scalp as he continued to push.

They hissed under their breath and had their thighs against their chest, feeling him take their hands to place them on the back of their thighs. He sat up and slid his arms under their legs to grab their hips and start moving. He stared where his member was, watching it disappear and reappear effortlessly from them, enjoying the sight.

They tilted their head back, clearly flustered from what's going on. He noticed and teased them, saying how well they take him. Their lips pressed tightly together, their face burning as a moan snuck out from their throat. He smirked at hearing it, ripping their bra off, and leaned down to kiss their body.

His lips kneaded and caressed their toned muscles, being soft and careful with his fangs. His tongue moved across their nipple, then sucked on the breast. His hips rocked slightly faster, listening to more noticeable moans escape them.

He took their hands off of their thighs and let them on his hips, then slipped his arms under their back as their arms wrapped around his neck. His lips reached their neck and nibbled and massaged the skin, whispering sweet nothingness to them.

He thrusted faster, receiving more pleased moans, attacking their jaw with small bites. Their hand ran through his hair and called out his name. Every fiber of his being he used to not go out of control after hearing it.

"Careful, love. Don't play with fire," he panted out the warning.

They cupped his face and looked at him. "Malleus~" then kissed him.

He kissed them back, his hips moving more needy that they had to hold on. He pulled out an arm and squeezed their breast in his palm, feeling their nails digging and scratching his back. He grabbed the back of their thigh in his other hand, hitting a right spot and hearing them break away to moan loudly.

He bit their jaw and moved down to their neck while they shouted and clung onto him. He panted out their name, hitting another sweet spot and moaning along with them. They reached their limit, crawling at his back and panting out heavily.

He finally bit down, marking them as his. They bit down on his shoulder as hard as they could to make it even between them. He thrusted in and sent them both into sweet ecstasy, then let go of their neck and licked up the blood. He leaned up, dropping their leg, and stared down at them as they collected themself.

He smirked and kissed their chest to the other side of their neck. "I appreciate you trying to mark me, though you need sharper teeth to break my skin." He sat up and touched the bruise on his shoulder, a wholeheartedly smile on his face.

He moved back down to kiss them more lovingly. He took them into his arms and rolled over with them on top.

"This was quite romantic." He pressed his lips on the front of their neck. "Satisfying each other, marking each other, what could more romantic than that?"

His face was in front of theirs and took the opportunity to kiss him. "Trusting the person with your heart, your soul, your everything and having them accept you."

His hand traced their body, humming in thought. "You're right, that is very romantic."

Another sweet kiss before they ask. "... Could we go again? Maybe try the position we're already in."

He chuckled, sitting up and grabbing their hips. "Anything you want, love."

He slipped them slowly on his member, hearing them gasp as his length disappeared within them. They gripped his shoulders and carefully lifted themself up and slowly back down.

"That's it, nice and steady." He watched their body rose and fall on him, pushing his hips suddenly up to hear them yelp. "Heh. Sorry, love, had to take the opportunity."

He wrapped his arms around their body and kissed them tenderly as they continued their movements, not taking long to hear him moan their name.

[changingplumbob]

New Goth Household: Chapter 2, Part 2

Keira has been crushing on Marta since she first saw her in the music suite below the library, but being a loner she struggles to communicate her feelings. Dina gave birth to twins after Mortimer met that meteor…

TW Brief mention of past emotional abuse

Keira and Marta meet up, grow closer, and Keira extends an invitation to the halloween party. Alexander and James enjoy some time alone. What remains of the Goth family (excluding Dina's newborns) meet up to usher in Halloween.

So alone Keira head to Pepper's Downtown Strip where she gives Marta a call.

Marta: Hola

Keira: Hey, it's Keira

Marta: Si, I saw your name

Keira: Oh, right

Marta: Everything okay

Keira: If you're not busy I thought we could have a catch up at Pepper's

Marta: Si, give me a few minutes

Keira: Sure

Marta: I hope I'm not late

Keira: Can't be late if we never set a time

Marta: Gracias

Keira: How have you been, I haven't seen you in the music suite lately

Marta: My idiot ex finally realised I was using his ID to access campus and took it back

Keira: Oh. He did...

Marta: Sorry, let's not talk of him

Keira: I mean, I wouldn't like you thinking you couldn't talk to me about something

Marta: He really wasn't that interesting. But maybe there are some things you should know

Keira: Come on, tell me

While Keira tried to put on a happy face, her heart sank. It seemed like Marta was straight.

If Keira couldn't romance her she could at least be a good friend and listen, right?

Marta: He seemed really nice. We had a, a whirlwind romance. Before I knew what was happening, we were living together

Keira: Sounds nice

Marta: It may have seemed like it, but it was not

Keira: What do you mean

Marta: It was not much at first, just a joke here and there at my expense, I thought with Simlish as my second language I was being over sensitive

Keira: But you weren't

Marta: I was not. Everyday it was little things, chipping away at my confidence, spooking my friends, laughing when I hurt myself

Marta: Finally enough was enough and I left

Keira: He hurt you

Marta: Only on the inside, I am stronger now because of it

Keira: That's why you're always telling me not to talk myself down

Marta: Si

Keira: Has he tried getting you back

Marta: Sometimes

Keira: So, got any guys in your sights now

Marta: *laughs* No, no. I think I'll stick to girls for a while, like you

Keira: Like- like me?

Marta: You like girls, no

Keira: I... do. Yes... mm hmm

Marta: Good, a body like yours should not be wasted on a man

Keira could feel herself blushing at Marta's words.

This conversation was suddenly going in a direction Keira had not expected and she tried to regain herself.

Keira: Are you always so forward

Marta: Do you not like compliments

Keira: No, I like compliments as much as the next girl

Marta: I apologise if I made you uncomfortable

Keira: I'm not uncomfortable

Keira: But since we're on the subject you have to know you're a knockout

Marta: Gracias but you are changing the subject from you

Keira: What about me

Marta: You really do not like to talk yourself up, do you

Keira: I know ex's are bad conversation but since you told me about yours... mine cheated on me because I wouldn't woohoo her back in high school

Marta: She was loca

Keira: You know her?

Marta: I do not have to. Cheating on you would be loca

Keira: I... Thanks

Marta: Right answer

Keira: *laughs* So, um, tomorrow is Halloween

Marta: Si

Keira: My roommates are throwing a party, and there'll be a karaoke machine. Will you come to it?

Marta: You want me to sing in front of people

Keira: Half of them will be too wasted to notice, but yeah, I like hearing your voice

Marta: If you want me there, I'll be there

Keira: Oh, it's dress up, so you'll need a costume

Marta: I'm sure I can think of something by then

Keira: So tomorrow then

Marta: Tomorrow

Keira: I'll text you the address

Marta: Adios

As Marta pulled Keira in for an embrace she felt a weight lift from her chest. She had tried to convince herself she didn't care if Marta was interested in her, but holding her close she knew that this was exactly what she wanted.

Keira: You feeling any better

Alexander: Yes. James gave me some tea and sent me to nap, now I'm all good

While James made some pumpkin stew the students sat and finished off the homework they had left. Finishing it today would mean they could properly enjoy Halloween and their party.

Joey was the first to finish his coursework. Satisfied he'd done enough work today he opened the Mix & Mingle app and checked which women nearby were cool for a casual hook up. After finding one he went outside to let her in, worried she'd think the mansion address was him catfishing her.

Nala: You really live here

Joey: It's technically my friends house but yes

Nala: And you're so young, normally when people say 20 on the app they're actually 30

Joey: Don't mistake my youth for inexperience though, I have some skill

Nala: Is that so

Joey: Come upstairs and see

As normal, Joey checked before getting intimate that Nala understood he wouldn't develop romantic feelings. He had no interest in woohooing someone who wanted to prove differently. Luckily she felt the same. They got to it and Joey's count raised to four. Again, like normal, he took a quick photo.

After being sick Alexander had a lot of coursework left so sent James upstairs to nap, promising to join him when he could. Technically he didn't have to get a degree, he'd get enough money in inheritance and marriage, but he knew is mother would want him to get one. Eventually he climbed upstairs.

He didn't like waking James up but his fiancé insisted that he always wake him when he got to bed.

Alexander: Wake up sweets

James: Hmm

Alexander: I'm here

James: Did you get your homework done

Alexander: Yes Mr Ryan. Can I give you a massage to boost my grade

James: I'll have you know I'm immune

Alexander: Immune to my charms

James: Never, just immune to grade tampering

Alexander: I know, I'm not my father

James: Thank the watcher for that

Alexander: Now are you sure you're okay with hosting a wild college party

James: This is our home, I want you happy here

Alexander: I'm happy with you

James: As I am with you, but I don't want you cheated of the college experience because you're tethered to me

Alexander: I want to be tethered to you

James: The wedding is this week, think of the Halloween party as a bachelor party love

Alexander: Promise me if you get tired you'll rest, okay

James: Yes

Alexander: Because I want as much time with you as possible

James: What for exactly

Alexander: Accompany me to bed and find out

Alexander needs to be careful not to let James overexert himself, but they still manage to have a good time.

Dina: Are you here to see your siblings

Alexander: I don't care about your suspicious offspring, what are you wearing?

Dina: I'm dressed as a zombie. Your brother loved doing the make up

Alexander: Whatever, can I take him to Cassandra's for Halloween

Dina: Today only, you bring him right back after or so help me

Halloween time! I almost lost my mind when I found toddler costumes for Savannah and Mercedes that matched their honeybee and little ladybug nicknames. Of course we had to make sure each toddler got a copy of the photo for their futures. And couldn't visit without seeing Savannah throw a fuss.

James chatted to Rahul and Cassandra while Alexander said hi to his nieces. He gave each of them a family kiss. In response they autonomously gave him a loving hug. Little cuties!

Previous Part ... Next Part

[mariacallous]

Once, when I was younger and would dress somewhat outrageously, I caught a stranger recording me on his phone as I danced on the tube, on my way to a gay club. The video never surfaced online to my knowledge – perhaps he simply sent it to a group chat – but for months I looked over my shoulder when dancing.

Turning strangers into online content for the purposes of comedy and entertainment has become a global pastime. And we lap it up. A drunk person relieves themselves in the street, a loved-up couple gets a bit steamy in a supermarket, a man is in his own world loudly singing out of tune on crowded public transport – the content is endless.But the line between lighthearted teasing and digital harassment seems to be getting thinner by the day.

Recently, a 64-year-old, retired man, Michael Peacock, was filmed dancing enthusiastically at Fabric nightclub in London. The video was uploaded online with the caption: “Yo I’ll never be going Fabric again.” The intention was clearly to laugh at the man’s dancing, and the clip also invited a range of homophobic and ageist responses, with the man in question reporting to Vice that his “heart sank” when he saw tweets about himself.

None of us can expect a legally protected right to absolute privacy when we step out in public. There are, however, basic ideas that we’re all supposed to hold around respect and dignity, which mean we should not invade others’ personal space through intrusion or fixed observation. It’s an unspoken code that is evaporating at a time where there are rewards to be gained by selling out another person’s privacy, making them go viral.

Cases such as Peacock’s might seem obviously cruel or unwarranted, but clearly not everyone sees it that way. After all, most of us have recording equipment in our pockets, designed not only to capture but to disseminate content in an instant. It takes active thought to see that what’s going on is too often a kind of antisocial behaviour: a rigorous policing of fun, spontaneity and expression, a disciplinary mechanism for social conformity.

Sometimes recording is not as spontaneous as spotting a stranger you think is ridiculous and snapping: in our age of YouTube and TikTok there are also the curated setups where a stranger becomes a supporting character in a skit they’ve not auditioned for. Like Candid Camera for generation Z, it’s commonplace for strangers to be pranked or misled for the purposes of content. These pranks usually have less sinister or malicious intent than spontaneous recording, but the feeling of being degraded is often the same, with uploaders potentially monetising the content.

For instance, a Melbourne woman who was made to participate in a “random act of kindness” TikTok without her knowledge, described being filmed without her consent as “dehumanising”. A friend of mine, Kyle Skies, recently fell victim to a YouTube prankster, in which he was provoked by a series of annoying questions. The video is incredibly funny (there’s no argument about that) but Skies didn’t see it that way.

“I had just run for and missed the train so I was already flustered and annoyed, and then that happened to me. I don’t know if my anxiety was kicking in but I was ready to fight,” he tells me. “I wanted to slap him but I had to think about where I was as a tall black man.” Though he felt he was being set up, he was still not prepared to see the video online. “My cousin sent it to me, because he’s of that age group. He was laughing, saying, ‘You’re so funny.’ But it didn’t feel nice. I got a bit of anxiety and my heart started pounding, I wasn’t ready for it.” Skies is powerless here – so long as footage is taken in public and does not reveal certain personal data, such as your bank details or medical history, you generally do not need the subject’s consent (though a professional production company making a prank show would certainly get written permissions from its subjects).

There are, of course, instances where recording strangers can be in the public interest: state abuses of power, such as police brutality, jump out. But we do need to start thinking more carefully about this dog-eat-dog culture of public spectacle. Take the example of someone, who appeared to be a school age child, filmed shouting at passengers on a commuter train this month after seemingly being asked not to vape. (It was viewed several million times on Twitter.) Many would argue that if you behave offensively, and cause a public scene, then you forfeit any right to expect a dignified social code of privacy, and that there should be appropriate social consequences for this behaviour.

Few people who negatively commented online seemed to consider that they might have been watching footage of a minor. Or that the intense gaze of multiple recording devices could have overwhelmed the subject, whose response was likely escalated by a defensive need to stand their ground and not look weak in front of the cameras. Their behaviour was certainly not appropriate, but what does it mean when bystanders can witness a young person vaping on the train and their first thought is to ridicule and humiliate? Would the incident have played out differently without cameras and the incentive to create content from other people’s meltdowns? And even if their behaviour was bad, was it really in the public interest for it to be shared, when the behaviour was simply disrespectful rather than violent or bigoted?

Until such practices become social faux pas there is the chance that you could step outside and become someone else’s ticket to social media stardom. The use of mobile recording devices has empowered us in many ways. Beefing up privacy laws to prevent the filming of strangers in public would be undesirable, not to mention unworkable. What can change is social and cultural – reacting with grace to each other’s embarrassments, and minding your own business more.

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Taunting Shadows and Comforting Presence (short story)

A familiar shadow fell over Gorsedaisy. The fur along her spine raised, but she kept her head facing the den wall. She knew who was there. They were always there, and she wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing the bright fear in her eyes. Not this time. No longer. They took enough from her, she was not going to let them take what was left of her sanity. If they looked into her eyes, she knew that they would see through them and straight to her brain, straight to her thoughts and her arteries and her pounding heart and constricting lungs. Those were hers and hers alone.

“Darling Gorse,” a female sing-song voice echoed throughout the den like creaking wood.

“Leave me alone,” Gorsedaisy replied, flattening her ears so low against her head, it gave her a headache. She put her focus on that and not on the stone weighing in her chest.

“So rude!” a tom’s voice chimed in.

“We don’t like rude cats,” his brother put in.

“Not at all,” the third brother added.

Gorsedaisy worked her claws in and out of the nest, shredding it. She told herself that they couldn’t harm her, that if they could they would do it by now, but these cats weren’t….they weren’t cats. They very well could be allowing her to live just for the fun of it, and soon that fun could turn to boredom–and boredom means death.

“Rude cats don’t dream happy meadows,” a new voice sounded. 

Gorsedaisy froze. She knew that voice, she knew all of them, but she hadn’t heard him since he had died. He was the one who had started all of this. Him and his family–they’re the ones that broke her!

“Get away from me, foxhearts!” Gorsedaisy screeched so hard her throat burned, whirling around and raking her claws through what turned out to be the air. But she wasn’t alone. 

Bluefeather sat near the den entrance, watching her with a saddened gaze.

“B-Bl-Bl-Blue….” Her mind unable to take anymore, she collapsed onto the ground, writhing and clawing and crying. She flinched when her brother’s ghostly figure wrapped around her, then sank into the feeling. She drank in his scent, though it didn’t smell much like him–the dead, Starclan version of him more like.

“If I had known the burden I would leave you with,” Bluefeather sighed, “I would have fought harder to stay with you.”

Gorsedaisy sniffed. “You fought all you could.” Red coals dropped into her ribcage. She bared her teeth, glaring at nothing and imagining that Starclan-cursed apprentice in front of her. “He took you away, didn’t he? I should have known!”

Bluefeather didn’t respond for a few tortuous heartbeats, then nodded grimly.

Gorsedaisy lashed her tail. “I knew it! I knew he was a danger to the Clan! I should have never left you alone with him–b-but everyone was telling me that I wasn’t in the right state of mind, that I was letting my trauma cloud my judgment. I should curse myself, because I believed them! I told myself they were right! Ha! Where did that get me? A dead brother!”

Bluefeather smiled sadly. “It’s not so bad,” he murmured, but it was clear that he didn’t believe that at all. Stars, he was the dead one yet he was the one comforting her. She really was a mess, wasn’t she?

“I’m not even at that barn anymore! I haven’t been there for seasons. Why can’t they leave me alone?”

“They leave when Starclan is near.” Bluefeather rested his chin atop her quivering head. “I promise, I will be by your side, always.”

“If only I had been by yours,” Gorsedaisy mumbled into her leg.

They lay like that in silent comfort for what might have been most of the day. Then when Gorsedaisy’s mind cleared as much as it could these days, she asked “what about those that aren’t in the Dark Forest?”

“Hmm?”

“Myrtlepaw,” Gorsedaisy spat the name out. “He’s not dead yet. Starclan can’t chase him away so easily. And that–that–A-Alderpaw. There’s a darkness in him, too. I can sense it.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I should extinguish the darkness before it grows.”

“You would kill apprentices?”

“An apprentice already killed a warrior,” Gorsedaisy grumbled. Even then, she knew his disbelief was well-placed. She was no killer, no matter how much she wished that brother-killer dead. She would only make things worse for herself. 

The Clan trusted her so little now, not to mention the fact that Bella-May and her family killed every cat in her patrol and attempted to kill her all those moons ago, and that they continued to taunt her through death, all because she withheld medicine from their kin. Myrtlepaw was kin too. He was Redjay’s grandson. She shuddered to think what they would do if she deliberately killed him.

“What do I do?” she asked, desperate for an answer.

“Wait,” Bluefeather told her. “Everything will be okay in the end.”

Gorsedaisy huffed. “And how many stories must end before my happily ever-after? You know Myrtlepaw won’t stop with you.”

Bluefeather looked down at his paws. He swallowed, and guilt stabbed through Gorsedaisy’s heart. Bluefeather’s death was still relatively recent, of course he wasn’t over it. 

He pressed his muzzle firmly against Gorsedaisy’s cheek. It was…steadying. “You will get through this,” he told her in a way that suggested he was as certain in those words as he was certain his eyes were blue. “I will be with you every step of the way, whether you see me or not. I will protect you. Everything will be okay. You will get through this.”

He repeated those words over and over, so close to her ear that it rang with them. Gorsedaisy took them in, letting them soothe her even if, deep within, she didn’t believe a single one.

=================

@ambitiousauthor

Bella-May and the family were said before to haunt Gorsedaisy. Gorsedaisy, as an innocent gal and med cat, probably has a few Starclan cats that stick up for her every now and then.

@wills-woodland-warriors @starfalcon555 @umbranoxs @elementaldeityoffood

[libidomechanica]

“And as heretofore, I seemed to reel, and this I best”

A ballad sequence

               1

This tidal wedge, slow tyranny     of moods as many fear from the black-eyed rival came. And     as heretofore, I seemed

to reel, and this I best perceive     in the dead was Hope. A place your face no moan: but when they     resistance from him—for

her home is in my breast, even     from a national as any other ring, and thews,—johnson,     and I sank and fiddle.

               2

Homer though in the midst of men ?     Now is seen as yet the odour of the parapet just     like a weapons still, in

Ettrick’s shore. I grant, if thou wilt     say of glory, and staring eyes, transfix’d with that breaks and     fair? The very single

handed; as the kingly drink jeered     at once. His artfully at the world, my true each tide does     not sighed deep, dear love, believes

who is it, then, my Muse and     power to thy breast upon his shudder in the bed. Take     care a pinch a flower.

               3

And soundly sleeps: it must at this     poor things are dun; if hairs be wires, black as jet: hath she none,     she’s left on Passion’s crannies and light true my heart droop and     hide here to oblivion. By the sea has devoured     the flowers then gather’d

was this … Then pride of fear, open’d     the glue that gainst my feet. Here ends my strong; an active hermit,     even from him—for her home at last of all the lonely     by thy fair fingertips and he could let him on the     street. Because the day, it

eats at me, guttering with his     first bud? Their sabres glitter’d loving, o fine pacing-horse     wi’ a claut o’ siller, spare not summer’s distresses bound,     and I have suffice to fill a little deeper than a     two years’ child till it weeps

both night was dead in each other’s     soul? Me, there was an evening on the liberty, right     legitimate head: ashes to ashes’—why not lead inviolably     blue latitude and, what not again, even from     the bastion, which Rousseau

points in the moonlight? So still kept     their heart, and Heaven know, and the silver mixed to one, a     neighbouring Priam’s, Peleus’, or Jove’s son? The odour of     the wind on the rain is full many a time and bitter     wine upon the prophetic

soul of the Justice brought a     kiss, the photographs, and as, in their pain in self-same welcome     inmate at the flies as I am a man, instead     of corn by driving, hurrying, marrying, burying,     clamour at our money;

and, thoughts had never turned off the     pond? But you all had join’d a certain corps, nor ever instead     of jutting crag, and gory cheek, don Juan raised his grief-     worn heart, as if we shoulders with a hand and last year, I     caught and be safe in me

is your hand. As he before. But     that walks wild-eyed and a spirits from the vase into the     blinding sight blind eyes can scarce, yet the meaning shoulder and     nightly make thy lov’d Stella, say, for grammer who sayes nay?     I love not a Moslems

fight, but still on Menie doat, and with     flow’ring they do not more hate, to breed dispute. He fountains     mud; clouds which meet that frolicked a vertebra to the     ripened ears, we fell out, my wife and die. One night, star kissin’     Theniel’s bonie Mary,

before the pride mighty thing resolvèd;     if to love be love. Valleys hear; all our tale were slurring     and claim madly meeting groan—who blush’d that says she my     dearest, that beauteous bill of moss, a melancholy crop:     up from thence: but in the

way, for now and through these shall grow     too close besides,—adagios of island I am that     he was—who upon woman’s it sound! Before us into     eyes, and I never wauks. Sire who blame? To the heap     that’s in her roguish een.

               4

The odour of them sing: the nodding     elders mixed good will her friend, when gleaming for my sling.     Theology in begging

him aid, my verse astonished.     No friends from Beautie be; then, like a hawk, an’ it winna let     a body be. Makes men,

like chaste she steals along the race,     a gray old world of our sleep below existence, keep merely     to turn with those

terrified vague as wind: besides their     mother’s wind and slender strange simile enough for Ajax,     Juan perhaps some strange

a thing nothing but to be. See,     there the heaven and child till it lay that tear shall not; wonder.     Come, I will wince whose

little dross, was shown, and ruby     stone. Of olive green, she told in shadows hand in the world.     Whose blue eye looked out for

sinners gave, because my Julia’s     lip was by, Being so much abounded Caesar himself     she cries, oh misery!

               5

Sweet stream, and then he rose I lay.     Does this is the first approach Love’s a match blazed like a sharp     as a lover hie, laugh

o’er the war; shall I never     remembering how bright, her breast for gathered, smell still. Nor, while through     wave on some peculiar

mystic grace for fifty yards around,     he is at peace in such unholy grounded Allah!     When you have drawn apart,

like a thermometer, quicksilver     anvils, and my old thorn, there’s not a stretch out like     a paragon; and the

loins engenders from Gaeta:—Shot.     Till our cups make mankind worth your lover&for an instant     dead. Put to such the same.

’ Rose in this of men: and the little     things of greater part? Tis pity that sunrise how that     sight. Her air at eve we

went, and I would swagger, swear, get     drunk, kick up and down to every spray; an’ she has twa     sparkling roguish een. Twas

pleasures for instant, while the mob     at last I saw my father’s head into an oval, square,     or smilde where the tentie seedsman

stalks; but that seem something is     blest sphere to dance of civilisation was showers. The     rules of our artillery

and its orbit in our stars!     We had not begin. So are you up the bright yellow hole     gaped for the Turks he

met the Prussians say so too;—and     then only number I still hems him round and runs not     No objects to his pride!

               6

Maintain, the poor súpport of Sabine     wedding, without shivering or shaking, unto his     daughters bad tempers almost

blue While Europe’s eye is     fix’d the loss—of the snowcap gleams with what a pious metals     most in others burn’d,

did he peek or Turkish batteries     thunders grown: of forty were but a child was born or     no, there’s coffee in

the middle, I by and by each     simple seed to feel all the Turk’s teeth still read a piece of     melody in these loves,

and swing around the music the     Greek or pine, to tell, so I sent ambassadors with thee.     Miss him in his head to

leaves it and terror crept behind.     And so, admitted through my heart to this vain refuge, made     them by a conniving

smile; or when worked upon by cynics     like a dream-mother with light, clos’d with thee. I have place     to flutes, to throw the spot

to what rare sights cannot be much     the sun’s red kelson past that streetlight, that it lasts the night     with soul in pain, for that

shall approach thee how to make any     guilty men; but, at our prayer was alone; each man,     such as he rush’d, while the

moonlight and gave him to be seen?     Oh where they, beyond it spry cordage of your eyes are shaken     with his first heaven

to strives by weakening pace my     horse, he spurre my horse, he spurres with wings from the reeds the     chief pacha calmly held

him drop his post: some twenty years,     we fell out with solemn air midst the dire extremely     true Muse his tongue be dumb?

               7

Its beauteous dyes, is like a bell.     Bring me, and never knew: and in snow thus to the spring-     time does not glow so much

with his riches of national as     any she begged a boon, a certain corners, from whence my     natures? Tis better to

be borne away along the first     time; then exclaiming;—’Juan! Of all their scaffold high, swells in     vassalage thy merited,

and was wound you in those are     they behold the languish nightly to myself round them through     her thighs? The lady of

throne, and wears the goodly sun: and,     as well as thought, the frost and reigns, who long hence as he to     whom Time is when we

innocently met. It winna let     a body be. Still, a much long arms and how twas born alive     and Sorrow which

reconciled so the Above an entry:     riding while they love is dead! You think Guido was levell’d     weapons: match’d at present

case in me? Paused for a moments     when there. And some heart that I will kiss you when I cut     up one doth see. And snow

napoleon on his face, tho’ matching     ruins he sat smoking tobacco on a little     tent of costliest nard.

My business won’t take quarter, a     word can break and many a time I held your most foes. From     her look was like a spurr’d

bloody sword nor sorrows longer     that’s in her e’e? He who plays Tipperary to this vain     refuge, made the summer

of the scorn of it. Thou lent’st to     me when the roof does run, and, in betwixt two bastion still     is: seldom shut—and if

you neither Rosenkavalier,     ’ just as thought it less. Of being carried by the last link     with the pity one hand,

I watched his jest alike prolific     of melancholy merriment, to quote to him who     leads. Was one of the clean

starve their lost morn teem’d her revolving     pranks, so order’d it, amidst the languid ringlets, blown     do but gently open

to glitter firefly-like in     face I see their convict lies. For you might die. To his numbers;     corruption could not

scamper’d; but all and each of us—     a watchword till midnight were the Des Plaines River And     I sank and fishing dew?

               8

Which turning dews. But it’s not his sightless soul, but     is ever face she hideous prison- cell or yard, is as this inarticulate     life. In vain immediately in

others cry Too lately, left breast. Just as an attack     on cities are one, none you that shines they built up unto his belov’d repose? Now     it could solder the general Markow,

Brigade: and what’s the people by and by may tell     it backwards, true, were every thing that breed a bloody rest. Caught and down and they themselves     down on Nature, or rounding the sea,

her cloudy film surrounding then, perhaps was to     lay on their glint of a bare foot, the sea? Much did not combat, but her Mind. Yet the third,     our last, our death, and I so you please,

how can it bears the unbetrayable repose, till     piper lads were primly set: so that right as happy, happy still hems him round there sits     me fast, howeuer I do sturre, and there

let at a short-legged hen, if we can; knat, rail, whereon     the grave. Beat into my though but small: little urn. A junction on its winding bandage     from lovers ever. On the tins,

and how can I guess; but die ye must away, like     chaste she sits, until the mountain when you sit at the spring upon reflections the     snowcap gleams with snow. His mother cry

lord, what kind of dancing now th’ Arabian     dew besmears my uncontrol, suppose. ’Er they sang, and shook till now unpossible,     quite a brother. But pretty flowers,

like in famous, but rain, in tempest, traveled,     generous and know dark is the nearest him, and see. At night, alone, I marry him, maybe     not. When the heard the soft Sh!

               9

Lovemaking, like the thickest fire.     To point I cite is, the garish day on which even then     let go. But gently stirs the ills past, presented to     verify this rare occurr’d— it might be chirurgeons who came     as if to the ducklings

cry, then to the length, yet doth nightly     to my cell. Or else let this thy adverse party is     the weather-beaten, veteran body, you’ll say that they see?     And all we have related in two outcasts always. While     mosques and mourning dawn, when

despair with you, drink up the rich     old lord, and wondered why men knelt and polished, then it comes     the least so far the breast. Is answering death in martial     tread over and wanton base delight.&The people come and     meaner beauty be; it

is large, so my daughter. Now, thank     our styles, chipped beam had crossed the small pollen ate into the     fair aspect and puts apparel on my past. At those thou     mayst prove no bar; for tincture wonder what with no redeeming     gore: there’s not my

love too little sweet cement, glue,     and Giaours throw kerchiefs at a calamity hard to wonder     more than I can tell by tongue wag through my heart. Which my     heart, you said. I have drawn apart, courting a glossy boot,     and could tell to what it

had been wooed and pulled a thing it     backwards, true, begin that music hath a face? Which my head;     not let any man to moan, but fetters still we moved some     hundred youngsters and dread of jutting crag, and some golden     gifts refuse which in the

upper life to chanced the very     body this is the time would prove many a crime. Tis     now some transient veil her faces on the east, and o’er the     one by night, moonlight, though the Prussians say so, and the morning     that waits for fool and

knave, till our cups make thee another     now, when Phoebus first Canto promise thee, instead. Or     by my heart-of-hearts filled with encrusted lock and quailed     as if he had in the ear far more rudely fleet, and ball.     For one rough, weather phone

book to see part of which so much     will turn to me in his shudder in the casual     solitarinesse: in night, and the sky not falling on silver     mixed to one, passion have I know, and complete. Where Love     increases! They were, more or

leave the west by the death-hour rounding     it. Will be found: not by our feeling but a young khan     in happy freedom by. We’re out in a country is the     thing, when we past and feathered, smell still. I, a lonely spirits     from the heap of bodies

how the sky You are whatever’s     lost thence: he, dying of her mouths never yet have left     alive, a lad plays Tipperary to this? The maiden     come into an oval, square, warm French breath not able is     to love to ravishing

did not been a coof wi’ a new     one to him, address’d beyond the loom thro’ ripen’d corn by     driving rain; but always with all my heart leal and left behind;     but still then no more awful far than thy sins more silence,     the lang day, till piper

lads were her picture by my     heart for superfluous sin; but Johnson too, who only she     was mad, yet often climb the brimstone one liuerie, both tormenting     lovers. Without layer on layer of features. But     wherein the old and sings

on my hip, the bear is civilised,     then she’d just to speak thy teares expressive arms,     a poise of the thunder, and hell, the fragrant sweet a sleep     with a transient tremor;— with a cry. That million lived hunting     besides enjoying

half-pay for those men our own, as     Lady Psyche, Lady Psyche’s pupils. He, nor his tuning     heart, already piled up to the propositions of     surrender, delicate your wars eternal thirst: for the     keeper was on a sudden-

opened ears, when purest in     the other what waits for yourself will cry to the heat of     carnage, like these loves, and let him be! With such a wistfully     at their two selves in our stars! What art’s for a woman     flicks the sun; coral is

far too wan, or there did move but     this foot or think of it; for the last the deep, death, retire     a little heap a moment you like the east, and Heaven’s     flashing souls to touch! While you’re lagging I may be your     life was yet in bud and

brake an ignis fatuus; ’ or as     sweet though their women and watercresses. When I see their     trenches, kiss thy present such a debt to pay for kissing     stars shone the North. Air midst the soil; and night were killer, spare     nothing from the summer

air at every fly from me. Smith     made, good food. And to fall. Beam had crossed the door and setting     sail, outlined in the bud and thews,—johnson, and the knee; count     the raines wherewithal: be she lesser sin that mine eyes, that     way; he hearts less supply,

till on Menie doat, and beautifies.     Which loose halo would go: perhaps when all the while and crooked     sublime, then it rubs across,—or a bird; the maps they     were heroes who begun with sigh, howl, and death or foes, I     sketch your lily-white sing.

               10

Now until he exits. Make her     notion, and red, when she’d surely, somewhat, again—first thy     monument, when up to

the duration of its love as     fondly once, you better book the sun. Loud is our banquets     rang; our dances beside

the use of Shame. Hurried by their     father turn in happy he who plays with laughter and grey,     and a little breeze, all

frets but chafing me therefore thy     sacred through the darksome way; and the seas; an’ she has twa     sparkling roguish een.

The hour to give him to the story     ran. No, no, this sheeted water ways, and six feet two,     as I divine; she looks

so old, in truth it was rich. No,     no: you would help as wolves, whereof are you may deem, too gentle     love? So we—the fool,

and what’s the fair ladies, save some     too late. Drove the wonder if April of her lights that I     could know dark is the gallows-

tree, with thirst no more? In Reading     houses probes wounds euen now moved some good at my love looks     freshly bleed, and flutes of

bad; all that turned with such as once     larger to find such light, star kissin Theniel’s bonie lass o’     Ballochmyle! You will—

they meant to see how men their     gratifying how we commonwealth. In one of the burden     my hand and bear their vulgar

souls refin’d, the golden times     of midnight empties the scorn that’s the phantom on his chosen     Love, blue. Ever shall

grow too close, or played within it.     Those Christians down into the bathroom floor is pitiless     and all we can get her,

as I think that I wear like all     your most fear this day smile hers, transfix’d with thee. Just what then?     A wretched with the mind

that sings on the water ways, and     she was white, that awkwardness of flowers, and nerve-twitched pose,     fingering giraffes if

you neither took the air beneath,     above, that right legitimate head: ashes to ashes’—     why not less all freshly

bleed, yet often made them in the     groups of the Dead, and beauteous bill of moss, that night, save what     it would end the story

now to die and die, and that seem     something else entirely going to the hideous     prisoner pent in walls sudden

shock the council broke, I rose     at last sentence. Was on the footprint. The breath, till the sky,     and more the weak, it slays

there was an hour that we think, nor     drop feet foremost then was from a bullet or a tree called     love through wise men at the

telluric light. And we know that     strong, and in her revolving pranks, so order’d women, who     were knock-kneed broom instead.

               11

That looked so wistfully at the     broken heart for he to blaze like yon youthfull flame, which Satan     angles with the free

from lovers to repair should others     false adulterate foe—he hated cruelty, as     all men having been used

to do the duration of it.     I cannot be but some dark webs, her nape caught a king, when     flow’ry thorns with repeat.

Those thou may’st think good? Before my     hart.&I can heal: and then his friendship, at lengths of puissance;     and through me which, shining

in loops like the step my heart Maybe     still steadfast, still is dry. Beyond it spry cordage of     your eyes full of longing

thousands of men. Toward the languishingly     scourge, they slew, were much longer time drew nigh that I     have that Life’s great George weighs

argosies,—as purply black-eyed     virginity, when, a callow youth and air to insulate     the peace in pass-and-

repass of knotted joints, a     wretchedest age, since Time began, they cannon threw up the show’ry     bow, when people look

at me alone? So was himself,     a sigh—it was true and the silent and Duty be the     started on the despot’s

desolate, mark, whose feet might wring,     unto his proposition is, the greatnes of their boots.     But by the clear and eye.

               12

To tough old her feel her wanton     ambler chance; but point me out something else entirely     going on outside, and

empty noises; while his mazde powers     by which once seen, and my bravest, who would have heard Heaven     know, I wish it could

be thy amends for the blackness     is its closing like the day. And with love, thy words had forked     no more. Be her shame! The

mock’d quotation yield. I was not     much better in a city from me in a bar never     turning winding storm. Into

her I’d nothing of them     shot in the dark night of his soul at once am settles     all her lips daignd to swing.

Pierced his bold and grey, and I knew     a man made them teach their wills count the holy order; when     sparkling roguish een.

And stronger: the churchmen fain would     Prudence’ direst bows to this? No aching eye, robert Burns:     dare not thy sweete-cruell shot:

a kind of birth was but a troubled     plunging wave on some wild regretted, for the scenes the     heart dotes less polish’d

as a vanquish’d in that was standing     her brow, and confounds him they saw the grief without pause,     up the story now to

die and dismal lyrics, prophet’s     ass began to strike him shivering Chaplain would curdle     o’er him, snatch, and die. The

General Ribaupierre’s was much     rather on we gained a little or too few things in me,     poor beast! And o’er each wight

to write above a scroll, and all     the ancient trait of pity was favour’d by different seizure—     as with constitutions,

because you like nature’s own     laws—my ball room the moss is growing back, it happen when     the paper’s life, and changes

like a lattice wrought about     the rest rush’d, while o’er some volunteers, to feverish pulse     each cup’s worthy of thy

narrow: I cannot be but some     nine white and loud long booming of the bell away; the gross     error lies which rubies,

corals, scarlet bright bard from the     story ran. So mastered by quickness. And all these, twill bestow     it; till there was a

poetess only the beating still     above the world, and the flies as I sat down and watched his     lands; he stood on the bays.

               13

To pray who passes for the pain ?     And the same small return of ashes scarce be dried before     his palate, an old and

grey. Three hundreds at his back, and     look upon his and death or foes, I sketch your worth your     company as always throne,

and the infant’s grave never watcher     watched your hand as molten lead were thou lent’st to me in     his soul at once. Thy earth,

even so, Belovëd,—where there     is in my heart knows what bitter this might shift green bay, rage,     rage again with their women

and chuse you letter, snowed it     down, but no sin unbolts the dusty drill: we banged the hermit     bees find thy bier. And

yet the first thy head, and now that     ye must quickly up, for I have lain where you up their sovereigns,     who is he so fair.

               14

And that lid, full-blown, before us     seemed to show his orders, and red, when flow’ring then from     that breast—my eyes pressed splendour

while, thou seest not, thou may’st think     how we show’d a wanton base delighted alabaster     vase;—up came Johnson;

whereupon that is had or must forget     the rest rush’d, while they are; yet they in phrase of these reward     your rank and fire is

not, foul and grey, and thou, Fancie, saddle     art, girt fast by Memorie; and I pardon me saying     it were melted for that:

which in your suit and day, and when     all the truth! The hand, I was by one, we dropt, and that Death     with intelligence as

victory were the cashier will hold     on her bread they expire! Between friends, like the flames, my Mary,     charlie Grigor tint

his pleasure first made for bards to     show their lids so oft are soon comin by the dead, cross his     own long station was favour’d

by different seizure—as with     the bay crown’d with great son of its prey. Then my arms, my Katie;     o come to be known.

               15

And think of so much gold for ever.     To lace us up, till, each, in maiden fancies may     be struck at her slippers warming by the day crawled on their     badness than one must give to hate me yet. An’ a’ the laws     their house. Feel safe then—i

never any weeping. Numbing     you strew the heart: ev’n the taste the free from lovers—who landed     lower down, and shrieks were green, on every blade the thorn     for every bad a perfect enough fowl now behaved with     such as an August night

that every bad a perfection     which indues its beating every shadow of your world besides     such they weigh in scales is delight, the wan, wonder what     old world began to strike him seem long hence as he moves by     each other’s frontier: I

said, I am to where lived hunting     best to all the counter. Her looks at a smile, and I     the sweetheart think it soon shall scarce could not run away much     rather doth me tie are humble verse doth call this children     cry, they’re boring more silent,

drawing blood. An’ it’s like poisoned     hilt, and when I’m laid by their badness than fame, may rue     the black-eyed girls in green fields, and of lady fair the wounds     euen now moved within our cloudy center. When sparkling     stars or creeds makes men, like

terrestrial palace for fear;     he brought flashed. In one merciless white faces seemed to praised     of ages yet too many years have dreams, before, a house     of Shame. Phoebus sinks behind you are thing the very brave,     now most fragrance

irrefragably, and off I ran, head-     foremost, offer’d much: and gibe the windy sigh: for each man     trembled as horse’s ear alone, but hurting a want of     song; permit me voyage, love. Never why I’m not brings self-     approbation; but when

rising moon, and so live on for     their way to take since kind of dying, and thus evince his     sympathy for rank, we soaped the clouds began to my     theme: there ensued to what is worse still went to receive thing     ne’ertheless harmonious,

underneath the spring we     trod the palisado’d in a sweet with bricks of shame stole     feet long, and in quest to have soothe my cheers his team, wi’ joy     the tyrants to me that we still tired, yet still closer     than all other was as

mild as an August night’s in her     head. Her two concurrent paths of what it was thrown himself     alone, I marry the bristling they love, that mourn that’s like     a boy of three times but that not again but it is sae     prevailing force, intent

upon the part of the jasmine     and slender fingers there the ravishing tack. Turn in his     self-approbation; where that lives were in his eyebrows, once,     or Anacreon tasted, their eyes are turn’d her legs I drew     figs. Nothing like traverses

and weapons: match’d and grey. Of     care of snarling trees, lay ourselves, so far beyond the crimson     stain both amazeful solitude. But wonder what     were heard of such heauenly sights cannot be heard Heaven above,     the grasps her song, song,

song, song; a woman were won or     lost; and forever with your millennium, you had to     die. Like David, flings smooth- kissing his beard, he puff’d his head,     but the sever’d head. This is the unweeting groan—who blush’d     thus, it could I weep my

woes, my Mary, theniel Menzies’     bonie Mary, charlie Grigor tint his plain; she was a     widdifu’, bleerit knurl; she’s talking sit listens mute in an     ancient good food. She is Christian mother with laughter’d men,     the Mill has got no name.

               16

And with the thirst, mysterious songs of the house.     The mortals after hoof he raised of ages yet to be your first bud? For it was     Elysium to be scorn’d by the season is good in Man ever so little, mere conquest     for sinners gave, I will disdains the rest, who was such things cost too deare for such a     brain on hands and girls gave but some approve:

the world, my true each time—not just named, the steel:     for never hear my sisterhoods may stray. The print of rest: low lies the chromatic wine,     which all Petersburgh is on the prophets, houris in his blood; but scarce even the ground;     but all mankind’s trump card, and no last word to say. As children in the middle-aged     were melted for what old wolf, for he

can; for the golden place upon a hearse: and     alien tears shed would form all men rate as Swedish Charles how you do! Of love, I only     tears of our artillery and its king, whom all the found and round, and white! Bear the     man-slayer, who grew like chaste: but the one with tears! If to love, for that had three lives are     like a willing creatures, do just what

it lasts the heart’s antechamber without which open     mouth the flowers, and ball. And made the city won while his mazde power as real as     the raven and now unshaken like a bloody, full of loveliest, and let thy waves     fold thunders, crept behind me, Naomi turns on the world, my true Muse his soul of his     matter; that endure; and another

still; but stay. Flow in age appear, tis but a fine     young, to show me what Meg o’ the gate call’d on; and I so you please, how awkward test which     is a gentleman of brutes warm before had done. Past whirling pillared in the longer     that enfeebled mine host to purchased by night. You may deem, too gentleman of Ross     run wild. The tears the Tyrian tunic

of Dido’s alphabet; and all them mastered mien,     just whate’er it may not wear historians talk of the fraud, the knock-kneed broom instead.     Never hear my sisters say bulldaggers, queers, funny come see us, but don’t feel some     more noble and loud long back but they pleasures for his mourn. And being ravishing tack.     The point to post with sharpe desire

without disguise on a diet. Hooked arrows pair,     and groans; and all they resistance though I was trying to Spain and feel my father—how the     hurricane of two bodies how the sky, we drank the mountain often made the stairs: and     that breaks. Us, but t was an enjoyer and could say who besides their comrades;—then juan     consented to mourn: t was Don Juan

caught intoxicated homage yields his sullen     might; when roving thy sins are painter’s dye! Suspicion now hath melt my heart i am     never heart of beer: his stubborn wall, this fixed a day or so I have died for which helped     us at length with his colour of the scimitar, and sorrows freshly bleed, and     overwhelms us all. Knows what arms have

brought he knew not what shall be soon: there be more free     one, in wanting to her I’d nothing but a spectral bride; for he was mad, yet often     said; but that the prophet’s ass began to moan, but since and I have me love contrived     a conquest to be with the thing forward to an elegy to claim, would for a living     voice! Were made no single handed;

as the roof of glass, beauty breaks. Ever so little     bone by one, yet knows who besides enjoying half-pay for lies which from me. No voice     behind a name for I have a natural heat till each tide does compile; even toll a     reguiem that spatter heavenly night. And feel myself as kind and water into a     deaf ear,—the child; howe’er the years of

blue which I would make known. Nuances spoken with     grief looked upon her grace made her owne. When, musings on her lights wax dim; and to his number     makes men, like as like the bag of day; rage, rage again; and twittering world, you say,     full of wolves do for a stone in a race. Of the wise doubt, the If and Why I love glory;—     glory’s but a moment o’ time!

               17

With Cyril whisper’d, passing breath.     The feast and almost turn’d up to thy sensual fault I     bring souls unlike the scorch’d at present case in me? The Turk’s     teeth of flame! Warm bout are broken, I keep no chip of it     was enter’d: first cut. Like

to sleep when my mind, or whether     Laws be wrong her beyond the bird that Death and swing of the     jasmine and the flowery scene, just opening and strange,     the Chaplain’s height he had told all; but did refrain began     to smother with thy famine

never why I’m not breath; scatter     to be true; and another’s frontier: these a cony     is not for token. Or if such a sugred phraseology     when he leaves the heat of something that looked so     wistfully at the wall, some

strange similes enrich, he stumbled     bad blood of the individual man, he shouted     at our prayer was freezing. Wanting swoons and her and his     wealth, because their tomb the bright bullet or a tree. To an     even bury alive,

who think I heard no more? Watch him     grew a sylvan tribe of my heart, we will steadfast as the     summers back, and that we reached the night, alone, then feed her     lap. There above! Mark how her voice comes from a bullets and     dreaming sunbeams intervene

and even weep, nor sword of     all heroes are like the dark confess with want you and I,     tonight! He does not glow so much alone, I marry the     ball could have plunder raged, they do well them my past. Did she     put his will; was he to

whom a far-off grandsire burnt because     it is a hand as when she has twa sparkling round     the fair which rain’d from Sunne, though I knew not whether shall I     never saw such things, since great names what Erin calls, in her     auburn hair it sound! Has

neither with years, it makes a man     for friend Don Juan replied, You’re right; poor thorn which i cannot     this may be Punic the antiquarians under your winged     horses beat, beat, beat into the holy night. Scratchy scarves—     where greenwood echoes rang,

amang the fiddle. Have danced in     a lonely spirits told them south, I snap the deadlier     they are—and such snow is the unfit contrarious moods of     me, then to her cottage roof, at once, the all-white hand; o     plight me you can fold winter

meet, leese but one, I’ll live on     for which to hear from the moorlands or pens have vanished in     a little token, to the ducklings cry, then to another     somewhere if men will last forever! I know what it     has a little shelter

of the jasmine and talked amongst     his feather, kneeling willow as idlers do, and fades, unseen     by the main spreads her the window—and weep; is it for     want of song; permit me voyage, love, believe the ev’ning     Phoebus shines out again?

               18

Above them, while he found that kind of children and     her Pleasure lay though the Russian officer of rank. How like a thermometer,     quicksilver current glide, and coldly mark the house; but who would do if run stark and stricken,     so remember’d lie; the inconvenience to lutes is foul a face pale as stone, and one     of these crossed the grave, is that holy

order; when awful Beauty joins with those hours, that     daily shilling notes are hard, to tough soldiers—these cossacques pursued the orange, and     I switches throng to battle-field is holy ground; and could we knew the ocean’s power,     the hard sky limits of straws and Ireland’s present life of lids then my mind, but is ever     face, but bravely rush’d, while I

meditated a wind that had we done that he begot     him. Troublesome, and rich. For fifty thousand loveliness; when the wheels go over     my left bare; but what’s stranded unto the loud cannon threw up the river beds down     into the ball could do! Was smashed last year, and that never, never hear my mother, can     I then receives? But with it, Follow,

follow him whose eyes could say what was standing, leaving     as air! Was printed Grove, although the lease of mystery of their houses probes wound     you will come unto a marsh of human beings, or his ways are one who lie in famous     slumber to some skill such a brain inhearse, making merry o’er am’rous ditties rhymed     in the second moon grows, fairer than

men know, beside the tears will shut very same and     they do well to hear her tomb. We kissed, and span, and cleansed their city thick as harvesting     the solitary now. Of loveliness all over the propositions of stones     are spent. My own Belovëd, who had faced unto my arm and every blade the leaden     sky, and to be with winter with a

kiss, and wae on the hours, and epic, if plain the     pastry, not my love. But while my eye I kept on the terror crept by each listening cell,     we turned over a human heart, as if we can get her, full of chalk and lips my lips     I’ll lay, ravished is. The last look, sharp knife: it kills without which few will I pour new     light and manifest intent on Death

with the close the man had done to wield the knows what     you a tear: but if she were on my fair ladies, by hard press on Nature, or true-love     tie; next, when the flesh of ours! But let me be copartner of their friends their eyes full many     as skies, whatever happen when you drink was thy bloom well in which open shone, or     care a pinch a flow in age appear

to tough sorrows more of hope and more endears, when     the other’s closes make gilly-flowers set in a city;—I should burn and fling thy     purity; and loathsome groan, yell, but no such small hands By dream—that hill of moss to her     cottage roof, at once am settle ticks are what Meg o’ the barley Miller he hecht     her a slave: blest but I. They say, forsooth,

you left him midst these to our subject of sublime,     then one weeps, the others, who landed lower down, and staring eyes are fond forget-     me-nots, and had to sweete aire which I still place, and disappointment there were they slay, more     or less, an old hostel, called life; which gave upon you tend? Because it the prison-wall     that Christ for gore and things, the watched him

of ane that now we poisoned hilt, and on her brow     sae whitewashed in to kissin’ Theniel’s bonie Mary. And people come and godwit, if we     scan as the black swollen purple throat, before the riches of this fixed on a wave stiff     icy mitts and doth fill to cure a mourning shoulders to my ample, feverish pulse     each other’s heart of the raw as

quietly as blow for my life provident. You are     my father turning, bend not speak—I saw her fine screen, no fence comes the thorn? And should see     no objects to destroy? Two widows of four young Desire! Aged, helpless, me now.     I love not known a Saturday night, the lintwhite sing. If there to fight like returns. The     dead. Against a giant; at length, without

a sight to show her to make thy virtues known:     but what’s still bee. And marrow was turned the morning’s dewy star; in crystal ball, whose young     Livonian. While everyone’s favorite customers. The fate which, though their brother’s guilt!     If I had no word, the wave’s dashing so much gold for excuse without divulging it;     moreover our grave! Was full of wolves,

where is little river&i can heal: and the rose     I lay. Only cured by women; all the old feel safe then—i never say suppose. Is     quite refresh the hangman closed myself thou wilt say Being so flagless asphodel, looks     backwards, true, were entrusted lock and lips meet! With heavy firing at my love, work,     children in strength, and shook the bathroom

floor is pitiless and thrusting, salving thighs caressed     by their trenches, and fair? Her from that mine eyes should others, I’ve heard many never     yet have scamper’d, only to draw them go, slim shadows of Death with it. Between whose heads     and eclipse enduring, give our anguish scope: something accident or a tree called the     head, and brought up, so mastered by the

sea. With icy breath; scatter’d by the sea, the light     arm and night. For it’s jet, jet black, an’ it’s like bowls If you ain’t had thrust, only a yard     bends, laughing what, if thou lik’st so well the conscious villain famous slumbers, to feverish     pulse each to its wounds their comrades;— then juan consented to employ his leisure for     my very day have brought form an

apology for that you could let her drop? But though     his nations, conceiv’d with sails of sight, or when birds rejoic’d in nature’s agonising     voice! Of the painted tread: but we at lengthy lexicon of gloom and each mortal love.     Like to lose; the grove, she only Queen of vapour shelter ward the public manners. And     scrambling roguish een. Or there might her

hut, then I, my though i have not single twig. Being     so much conversation if that she goodly sun: and that blessed shape complete, however     hard the swollen gates the dim purpureal tresses; all by which once should die for a     loftiest, hurried by shrieks and flog the first; tis flattering word, how to the loving maids—     the heavens, this heart that each peal on

peal, o’ercame the midst of crimes: or if these he call,     and holes: arsenic, sure, would resign: robert Burns: time, when the mountain top which sourly     robs from me. And shame had not bend his chosen, thoughts would swagger, swear, were almost hear a     little graves. While courage clung the sand; and another cry, oh misery! Thou live, and     leave Scotia’s shore. And then lemons, and

they should have caught up, so mastered by women sang;     and I, tonight! It did it again? I remembered tomb, and the flint, and dread of jutting     crag, and loud they slew, were full of incongruities: be her shall call me ungentle,     unfair which worm he meaning of a mighty fuss just let me die, and night moony, inlet—     warm, seabathed, I was in her

helpless massy of his heap of earth o’ergrown. True.     Ran away, like a willing the bean, and sweet with plain about their own presage; incertain     corners. Yon banks unseen, while his mazde powers distill’d though life, forgiven through the     dead, but of the nearest dear last night and sand by his dishonour and himself beat back     with soul intention summons to give.

               19

With which cut off in the bed. The     tears the corps, which turning, that the rest. But this is. Be that     circumstance, which so

betraying to look at me alone     we live leg still whene’er she goes. I said to me at midnight     empties the lonely

wilderness, for air like a hawk,     an’ it winna let a body be. I believe such a     desperate heart: but there

was, indeed speak our minds, amidst     our minds, amidst the dying of the parapet, or those     terrific: for checker’d

as if he warr’d or loved, and I     should be thy chief pacha calmly midst these he call and his     hoarsest straining instead.

               20

Blasted in her e’e? But of the     thorn is bound, and raging, bend not national as any other     flinch. And who were knowledge

all, what will not quit her tides,—     adagios of islands, nor t’ other children in the     cup, then for reply, and

I’ll roses on more rudely fleet,     and boldly ventured on the blue day-light’s in the love through     these loves; never half wonder

more than in the heap that’s out     of Allah! And the wrong; and to thank, he record, here ensued     to those who dislike

the sky above my dying of     the chance in balancing music the Great from its spotted     shroud in which was cut off

in the blackness is its closing     day. Before us into the string, with winter with life—     he was dizzy, busy,

and a spirits free! Lemons, and     with such a crime is perpetrated ere a word which euer     she thing of impotent

despair: he only Queen she’d just     that now unshaken like a weapons still raw love when a     fever, both tormenting

names and ocean wide a breast when     she looks were green Thirst like a wheel of turning street and they     would be to close at hand?

               21

No object higher than gentle     shade, while they now transfix’d with such as dare approach, O Spring.     And some hundreds breath

of steel are blown down with a hangman’s     heart shakes her man on a day of darkness growes one     whole ranks of me, or when

he asks not thy sweet i want no     world for beauty set, and one dark night be said no, yet being     in the loves; never

any where, betrays her body     grieve, and rain, the scenes they did. And soundly sleeps: it must be     to that I see the profit

and injured thus! Each from that     words can strange enough to win, to the rising Phoebus lends     me now with thirst: for thee.

               22

Embittered, Kate Brown’s a berry;     and swept, as gales sweet to dance to flutes: it is o’ergrown with     which in fashion made the Russian officer, in marbles     into the grove, she open’d

heaven and again but it     is a dead man think the moors—no—yet still fervid covenant,     Belle Isle,—unfolded floating flower, nor felt the fool,     and God from out His care:

and with murderer’s heart as a     cane that she good company as always sing it? The walls     were sows, and she was homeless, here, I yell, prayer the golden     times I’d rather

of my wretched woman think it     stranger, now she’s wi’ a new Love, we lost i’ th’     funeral fire. In a clenched in a lonely as a swallow’d     from the sin, and, green Thirst

that fatal to bishops as to     be straight his plaidie, kissing where my lips have ever dear     inhabitant below. Whatever think, this instant drove his     pension may live in the

street. Thou shalt win. Why should not bend     his wealth, and die, and flame: and heart with your chill come upon     you could let him be! In a big box store&wander’d monstrous     shapes of her mother was

also a pauper. To hear the     stones, was shown, and redly ran his new order of St. And     then. The Russian office, Muse; I teach him grace may make     Corrupting, slashing for my

very earth is kindly earth, defac’d     its lovely beam a lonely wild: but woman, nature     is flowing, but fighting the frost and lines of British stare.     Holds this is not sweets shall

eat thy thyrse and think that I had     been a Sultan of the right insinuations Act: then     one speech, you will come, whose blue day-light’s extinguished edge, but     don’t feel good then—i never

saw a goddess when she has     twa sparkling roguish een. And tall, and what now unpunished     through, and when anxious to land at every bird sang of     mine take this Polar

melody in these the crimson cross     glared at me moved the foot of all to come and glad. In cities     caged. And night. Which so pierces and let thy Mother known;     and that we drink potions

of Caiaphas. No matter what old     wolf and a sliding across tables and my bones was something,     which few will see some heart is lost, what is your subject:     a brave sons such is man!

               23

Upon the line&her perfect musike     giue. An’ it winna let a body be. Blow. Who is     he so fond will sup free,

but moderately, and was wounds     for soul, like can be pleasant leaves that we drink to Ovid,     and what things—I sought back

from the restriction made them and     turned your left espy; and then one look along the raines where     people look at me! And

to you. The wrong register with     your dear self! This is almost turn’d her revolving pranks, so     order,—were all the whole

army, which is so rash as rise     in pointed tread: but when the core while Juan is sent off with     the last the child is this?

               24

Thy hand, (friends: the Briton must die.     That you again. Maids are very sin contrived to live on     forlorn. That gray old wolf, for only blood we had not spilt.     Breathes along; and I, tonight, alone, I marry the bright     star! Blood, transfix’d with it.

               25

And when thro’ and the Russian     battery on the pane I know that strange worke I proud, by that     they sang the field. Side some

transient trees,—he moved with, recalling     of their beamie darts be gone, and that life that vow, this is     the thing me but one, can

every blessed splendor. To hear the     longer than aught except that spangled into a shallow     grave at all: only a

yard or two—what’s the cates. Flung from     its spotted red with heavy gate, while they stumbled bad blood     of the soft flesh of ours!

               26

Into wail such a seneschal?     In one floating dais before because I had been embracing     loose our play, an even

bet which had pierced to inquire     if each could do was dead? Of rimless floods, unfettered     catalepsy’. Since the wild

woods shall be my phraseology     in begging him to be in your country swain, the silent     men without the pit?

               27

Latter, snowed it down, their nurses.     Swedish Charles at Bender. Dead, long ere these do not like.     Was hot and gay, and under the anger would swagger, swear,     were voices never would you say. Tis a mass of knotted     joints, a wretchedest age,

since whose every eye, all over     the Quaker holds, from the bastion, whereof, with a sword! The     scent of blood run upward, as beautiful now, not even     there! And drank a healthy horse, a horse to Loue, and you in     every blot of blood and

so through my mother, and never     against the wounds they heaped the other with your own strength, without     which to hear my mother again forgive ourselves be     bevel; by the score, were also heartily then. Dear brown-     eyed little confused with

years, there’s your skin, the Rights of     Woman is, protective, search of gloom crept behind. We have     no Pooley, or Parrot by, nor shall see despite of him     they grieved, that things of Love doth breed, to stirred, then this extensive     cup of aromatic

scale of sobs her brethren, youthful     vein; but a’ the last time to cast an arch, perhaps some     part, because it is not those airy silks to flow, wing’d without     which makes men have made me to his own: t is there, and     makes human from hell’s partial

tread over the prison-clock     smote on the self-scorn; but the Princess: she to the wall is     high, by day, or gluttoning on all, or all well spelt in     these wondered out for sinners gave, I will come. To the dress     my tomb: And a cypress

sprig of eglantine, which some approve,     no dislike the working out, under the ear, and fawning     leer, each simple than thy sins more awful far than the     east sea and sky do melt as lovers to her Fortune’s tides,—     where Loue is chaste;—they rang

the self-same welcome shock: his airy     harp shall call me ungentle, unfair, I long’d so he     had woven been, and could also be true; and staring eye,     robert Burns: dare not combat like a lord, and soundly sleeps:     it must withdraw from the

stem but it is to brave oppress’d?     It is large, like a rising moon, in all the fulfilled, you     see a text that it is but a moment eternal name.     And binds one degrees and ocean wide and barbarous     opulence jewel-thick sunn’d itself

enuies your hand. It is all     in vain to me that says she my dearie! With a stirring cheek     their grim career, like the flowery May, when despair, like     a hawk, an’ she has twa sparkling roguish een. In vain     to me the day I ca’

at my love. The merry hae I     been thee, Katie! Johnson only the tall trees. The front, but     that we think, whate’er it may not wed. But I never a     quiet we sat as love flashes, books, vials in the price     would not wed. In awful

Beauty from him—for her home is     in love. The Russ retiring. Full-sloping like the daisy’s     side, and no last word taught them, as the moment o’ time! Why     do ye weep, sweet is night, when not to show his orders of     rural garble. And the

swollen purple pomp, nor a cloth     upon the stones, and wondering cloud and scattering their     new tricks, and if between which were corses. Or give our anguish     wrung the clear to touch! Safe, and learn, too late. But to our     death, desire; my death.

               28

The way lips and a bloody, full     sail of heaven to upbraids th’ unhallow’d fire, when     Juan raised the heart their Lord,

by Fate, and I sat down against     my kisses on her hear my mother, as brave civic Pair,     to give Perenna’s lip

a kiss, that endure whate’er the     halflight to be vext with Wellesley’s glory. And I don’t     much pique myself into

which will sag if you’d say the Heaven     reflection, little step beyond the brittle bit, which     is a great mind most fairer

than all other linnens, and     plunder, and just named, these crossed the more. And yonder glade, apt     to weapons still came, with

a joint overturning-steel we     fell on the South, and strong Happiness. Over the Quaker     holds, from Clarinda’s heaven

and hands rage of your substance,     which even the long year and shook upon the five string, with     whose each gale blows chill, and

others stand up erect this is     almost at naked nothing shut up and down the iron     town the gentle yet

prevailin’, and with both moon and some     with his power, the hangman, without all wind and worse, the     roses damask’d, red and

cries to pass, the reasoning would     not for those my family’s once they behold another’s     terrors, glare, frown,&taunt you

and you give me them thou art more     intermix’d? Then—i never in a wave should helpe reject,     the lily, the roaring

East; But when the bedroom with a     long low sibilation, which people shun me because it     is all used up for those

queers i remembered to. The guilty     men; but stream, and I got switched pose, fingering giraffes     if you never fell his

column made its raveled, generous     and kills the sweeping of the individual man,     he show’d what we call the

best help I can: before he’d wrong     register with yours as their glint of fear, or wheresoe’er     the Quaker holds, from sin;

but as his team, wi’ joy the     terrible array. Into an oval, square, warm French, that sings     on Cessnock banks and stream,

the thing shut up and does is awful;     odes about its mother column yet remains, when I     lose the wild distant shore.

               29

To fly from my mistress reeks. You     could bear, and whatever a vile physicians, yet each man     kills outright is that would.

               30

Come, virgins, then one looks fresh, and     carelessly I sing, except that none loves; never think and     we know. Her hands nor weep,

and was no Caesar, but a     valorous kind as my true love to any eye was plunged amidst     the deepest maze. And

your houris, or as sweeter far     than all other spirit, and in answer of the sea. The     madden’d Turks their homely

fare, for the dire extremes between,     and if twas born or no, lies broken. And to thee, instead     of deceit, she might

be movèd; many for a private     blow—I swear, not like a cinder, as being carried men,     before, being carried

a rich old lord, and Fate who leads.     There above! I think I hear a dead men who tramped, each to     its worst, and the distant

mountain-top, can this thorn and make     thy lov’d friends and gibe the hour she denies; shee, lightning through     the Prince de Ligne was wounds,

who employed, no nearer still; yet     love be so involv’d and green gleam of dewy-tasselled     tree unto that were silence

let him kiss of ours! It is     the time would have begun to doubt that favour granted way,     for their weeping. The fair

acceptance, and I switched pose,     fingering female child, and night. You out that endured and that     party is in love. Six

weeks our guardsman walked with long as     Death, retrieves from haste too much without being taken breath,     and there my sorrow liue.

               31

(And I have made them not ‘aroynt!     Like rock or stone, it is as if too brittle bird, who fought     with a bitter wine upon

so foul and useful all she     is that sweet thief which I would resign: robert Burns: welcome     inmate at the ladies,

by hard promised. Existence of     her pap and gory cheek and chaste;—they ravish’d very little     muddy pond of water,

rising moon. Johnson, who had     a brain to meet and find others cry Too late. Grew dumb, for     you are the unweeting

loved me; my grief! And what names will     be outcast men, and there in movement one another, after     it,—so you with distant

shrieks of the others, sweet     whispering. Come against her mother cry, o misery! Yet     I love many, but their

reason no one thick and still, and     through wave on wave, until heated by the managed to slur     with a human lives and

the Seraskier defended all     grow bad, and when he crouched to have no peace of friends, when rising     moon. Was, that shall be

true we hear of pity which makes     a man for friend Don Juan wept, and all alone: around, around     the pails. Is delicate

mouth with content the windy     sigh: the man had done a great Solemnities, orinda’s     wishes for the paper’s

light tinge with should wed, my father’s     soul? Him in tones which hate nor envy e’er could crack his soul,     like fiends from remember’d

not to the right; in both holds one     who lies and dreams I slept, kind Nature; and with the pieties     and neat little minute;

but alway. Pass superscription     of its best and like: the greater, purer, bright eternity,     of rimless floods,

unfettered leewardings, samite     sheeted water for only this: they did not come down themselves     were green woods that white

faces seemed to play. Of his feather,     the lintwhite sing. To his propositions of the years     ago. From this bleeding

pairs: with gaze of dull amaze the     woman in all their Souls endears, when models arrive an     aid so opportune as

we now gaze upon the days of     his nation, whereas the swollen gates that loves him not said     I although the Prince at

the placed you to these weird seizures     come unto his darlings of air these poinsettia meadow-     land, the poor stone, to say.

               32

And I said yes I wind are lavish’d very lance     was plain that dissipated national;— but Juan never saw a man must do? Thine age should     all beset with fear, open’d heaven: so flattery? Anxieties of love, the halflight     that the bitter thy perfumèd garments;

let us taste thy morn and the door. Sapphire—     love endure whate’er my grief are, and wisdom are not come, O girl of a dream-mother     who could not better book to see such precedence upon the heaving as foretold,     dying, that seat of grace she glides her

two in my head; not let any man to be the     sound the nighting those airy silks to flow, alluring me now with his garden and still     with my full hear thy voice is more,—falsehood accurst! No spices wanting a watchword till     action, knowing I cannot say

exactly what was lamed, for him Pity’s long-broken     heart, as if God’s daughter loud that which rubies, corals, scarlet coat, for sauce; to the     love through its blood; for the staggering giraffes if you never saw a cherrywood cabinet     that it worth his eyes when the present

story, then laughed They will not gainsay love, old     dwarf heart knows who best had faced unto the liberties. Over the wind on the wall is     stronger. And cups, the greatly did end, and knew that light hath left me broken-hearted prove:     make the night. In vain to tinder. And

yet the indifferent seizures, Heaven reflected     in act, remember that your parents kiss white tooth slips on their foes hurling defiance:     city, with the plainly living as ladders there: for flowers, they might make the conflict     o’er, for his face was in her e’e?

               33

Till the least that terse muse of Shame.     A junction of the spot away! Which has to give him ashamed     to show her turning

towers o’er Danube’s stream embraced     by mewere you up the breasts of moss before, nor care     a pinnacle doth see.

There is that a country know she     shuddering cloud that hill of moss, which fills a regiment     besides at e’en, when to

cross. But before your chanc’d to seek     if there is a fearful thing they knew not whether Laws be     right that tap and gum, rich

bears they send: for each man kills the     mind that Death with no Spring! Your arms; ’ but what were thousands,     when fires of thy door. And

his grave the hills of deepest secret     deed. Or else let thy head, and yet, to speak no common     forms have kill’d, already

knows the surprising you by how     fully she might be confessions to give him and hell, the     foreigner in a pellet

of clay for I have suffice to     fill, for the Moslem orphans young, unwaken’d world dreaming     river; oh, that so rich

a one; Biancha, let the heaven     and earth receive the front, but you are what I could crack his     strength, yet doth truth you’d wonder

if April would not kneel to     pray who never travelers through its giant loom the more free     from fair Twinnes golden

crown themselves pain, and she is standing,     and why? A slight me you can using giraffes if you     see their landing they see?

               34

Ah, how sullen, and span, and for     them all! May rue the birds long caged wherefore breaks. Or downward     seek the Indies, my

sighs, my tears the ills past, present     story, then bless that the dreamed nothing came the same clime old     Erse or Irish, or it

may regard—the grave, o there my     lips I’ll live in the boldest mark of love because the windows     of the bridal hours

as the phoenix’ breast that we reached     the time before I did I’d grab your heart, like a     thermometer, quicksilver

mixed good action in the breathing     i do not go gentlemen that moment which settled the     horses fit for he can;

for the fire doth see. I know not,     nor pretend to guess; and a still kept their thought away with     Heaven and strong, some hundred

thought in his lair. I loved you,     and how can those who for her tender each year the paper’s     light true my heart for he,

if he must die. Then my mind or     body grieved it on its winding sight and nuances spoken,     say, will bitter love

and Life are from me. Pardon me     saying it were melted for once, or Anacreon tasted,     their church-yard path to seek

if there was not my own. The hard     sky limits. As lightning on removal of the South, cap     and bless me without a

sight of beard too; or you got home     in life. Ere I had her, Prince de Ligne was wonder the mass     for judgment of costliest

nard. With my friend Don Juan caught     a glimpse of the suspensions, such names will forget him, you     and you’re lagging I may

be, t is for yourself will crush     her powerful army. The fifth, who, in the ducklings cry,     the mound of a burro.

               35

Dead! The imaged Word, it is,     made of heroism of him, I’ll live in the rock. I     would not marvelousness. I do not? Good God, thinke you that     close beside me doesn’t care

about what the lake lies sleeping,     but Phoebus sinks behind me of departed—but a waking     dried before then most mortals who teach him greater, had     his own corps, nor the wide

world wants to pretend to be straight     his pleasure; sometimes, repulsed by all for what if Blucher,     Bulow, Gneisenau, and still we moved some odd angle for     one whose young khan, with the

lang night in we went upon the     heard, the whole inherited sin on that sings on Cessnock     banks unseen, while ribboned walls like the council, plied him     some assistance which we

are much in fashion now. Thank, he     recognize. And what’s the tide; the one dawn grew fair some with     thine image in wilds of dead and her grinder. At the least     that today is my day

the garden and strong Happiness.     The tyrant cast out. But chafing me there his ready quill     employ all arts to dwindle and there she less may stray. We     know love’s ripening on the

bottom, to save, and heroes, who     is asham’d to that with a bitter than a two years we’re     made me ask a gift, and one of us would stand and raised     his young; and I, tonight!

               36

Insisting on a rustic town     set in a moment, from some better salad ushering     there is a sparrow on

her, so graciously with a sight     of disbelief though we know love’s ripening on removal     of the lily, the rose,

the lamp and lay his anguish in     love: be my mistress short? The morning’s dewy star; in crystal     ball, whose harness wrings

the General Ribaupierre’s was     much long and some had sworn another name for two—would add,     he was! Henderson the

numbered tomb, and the shows now. In     highest way of variety, no fashion; each man, such     as he rush’d where, maybe

not. My Guido himself alone,     and you have, to returning, the lust of Pallas for more     than before while the red

cock crew, the roses then; they only     what loves so green, she told in death. Dear Perenna, prithee     come and thews,—johnson join’d

a certainties bare went upon     his furious eyes already hang, shred ends from that when     your smell, yet the interjections;

never half we scan a     field of cord and a child; and I do equally to half     pay. Yet often spoken,

say, will be able to see. The     sentiment of costliest nard. Then, ere these, twill be as     time had foretold, dying,

the lounged, like the mounting upward,     as beguiled; thou shall move towards you, although their ecstasy     complete a thing no

Warder walked and slender, dear brown-     eyed little while the wheels of this, t’ have pleasing Zephires     blow. The town and the

ransom of Italy. And her     and air were torn away much regretted, for the self-scorn;     but their designs, by saying

thousand wine with those who scaled,     found and blessings on the weather off from the world I would     find it hard to wonder

what each man kills the tide; the fretful     briar will wince where you now unshaken like an infant     wrought rest to advance.

               37

He does she cries, “oh misery!     There is one of the air, and sun, as fault but give them, as     bells off San Salvador salute the flashes spare, or true-     love tie; next, when he comes

the tug of war; ’—’t will come unto     his beard, and a bonie Mary. Or if you’re dubbed knight and     awful fold embraced, which most dearly lovèd, but we knelt to     pray; who was such a brain

so wild! That must be my scholar,     and staring eyes, Forst by thousands,—sometimes gaining instead.     I: for he, if he had in the very prison-wall still     it lay that kind of cunning.

In lifting foam; your books and     head, and the bird that he was dizzy, busy, and some minx     tripped up-stairs, she and would look that spatter heave the left, three     parts of strain’d and vast; his

third was a compact pass long summer’s     court. When day’s oppress’d? Starts to the crocus lustres of     the black stage-lion of wronged love and perhaps might have forgot     the child was bom old.&

The peopled, or as sweet to dance     to flutes of moods as many fear from the moorland hills of     sight, clos’d with the bridal hours as the sweet from sin; but Johnson;     whereupon this old

man, white tooth slips on the lonely     by thy human shores, or gazing on they richly merit     hath melt my heart, where they see? And Cyril and wisdom of     the maggot born in

flowery May, and as grand as when     a’ was done. Or a sail flung into April’s inmost day—     creation’s endowment, thou dost beguiled; thou shalt not know     that spangled tear, which we

are the wild toyes are one heaven,     and like: the gross error lies in this reports, because it     brings self-approbation; where dead heart is she goes; pure-bosom’d     as that are soon comin

by the man lounged goddess     of moonlight—or a sail flung into April’s inmost day—     creation’s blithe and pity;— hark! Now, thank our stars! Maybe     still read was safe, and till

midnight in his great son of the     artillery’s flame, in my rose-wet cave—whatever with     such a wistful eye upon the woman be good action,     and rent the fair acceptance,

see the pale sky, and to the     least that in her Nature writes. He record player skipping     the wanton ambler chanc’d to see where we lay: and each one     of thy door. The sheep-herd

steeks his face in this heart, remember’d,     still on Menie doat, and fling thy purity; and loathsome     canker lives, as hath been the pit? Tulip? Sliding knee-deep     in lately forgive ourselves,

so far beyond the door is     pitiless and to do like horrid war-whoop and woodbine     twine and gild the loveliest, and till action, lust is     perpetrated ere a word.

               38

Some, with eyes turned back within it.     &When we past and future, time past,—this time. They honour. Well     knew when a lawn’s cast out.

               39

A flute came in the greater part     were every crime. Whose constant in one hand, address’d his patient     sleepless Earth in which

the other above my lover&     for an instant dead. I have a dream, we may not know that     strange, the room: the vain, such

as few men can I then receive     the hands nor weep, and God knows here is little measured it     from Molwitz deign’d to run,

for though the dripping and pulled a     rose full sweet with downcast head, whose fresh repair should discern     when the body perpetrates

of Fear, and feel my father     sex nor age in this reports, because it then? I prated     of, but always. And with

wrong; and the pond to sweet though no     teares! Ruthless stroke wide from court with Cyril whisper a     slow shuffling through the

wild woods that party is in the     knife. In spikes, in branches, and walked, will not quit her times, we     trod the Fates but name the

Briton must do? Now raving-wild,     I curse that like a king, a subjects to destroying. True     Muse his tongue be dumb; for,

lost like the devil would blessings     on Cessnock banks and falls in vassalage thy morn and rare:     but now reduced, as long

as Death, retrieves from Boreas screen     of vapour she fled; now, well-bred men—and you are as fair     and some healthy horse, a

horse moved, and weapons still, and they     did. Of sweet is night almost lately married a rich old     lord, and I am now

without being Christ for gathered,     smell still. The story now to die and die and death is drunk     with those who sings on my

love, and falls asunder I feel     no grief are, and hospitable: or, maybe, some do it     with their best perceived no

injury more did move but the     beggar that leads men to the man is not single, and there     suspicion start; no pause

no doubt why, if we scan as hath     fur: for the managed to fingered by the Heaven and still     it falls in every careless

sunrise how that ever know     its worst, and light upon his eyes, all red muscle, and fro,     ever lonely, vigorously

he might not upon the     steps above them indeed speak our minds, amidst such meaning     of impotent despair.

               40

And what part to thee, her Willy.     His third was spun: and whom for the price would I see him prison-     cell or ill, all but

us three I am undecided     which grows higher title, or a sail flung into     April’s inmost day—

creating leagues of monotone, or     as mine may make their fault, but alas Nights not to concede     quarter, a word country.

The way a stone to pick up and     down and hopes still, descent be untrue; and Maud is as they,     and hope for no esteem’d,

when a fever, both sadly shaken     with a loathsome slime, engender’d monstrous garb with bear     the mill: but it is but

rain, in tempest, and look upon.     It is a handful of dust, and bad, that would rub them to     strive to drag it to the

stormy winter when we talked amongst     mortals who though I love to ravish’d that know how this     may be, t is not a

stretch’d and green laurel-bough. Their native     earth, Belovëd, I surmise we watched him in tones which     last must we clutch at the

place upon the brave man with martial     looks be anchored in its glow. Child it stands erect and     bear the scorn’d, to be seen

while all the men who speak for no     esteem. Or give or dead, in the body were made no single     tear has more lived hunting

up a single twig. We have     now had sketches of the pond, which is a great sang-froid, among     a world may say. And

the sand! We turned off the bud of     the Justice of marbles into certainties bare went round     and look upon. Fatal

to bishops as are making told     the churl. What though the Turks their fault, but alas Nights side to     hate me yet. She hangman

closed myself too had we done that     they spake, I saw the living thro’ ripen’d corn by driving,     hurrying, burying,

clamour at our praise, whose constant     memory was full of black as jet: hath she none, not solace     ears polite; ’ but Juan

answer Ribas’ summon, ah! Of     honest fame, that watched the shroud in happy country swain, that     I shall scattered limbs go

lame! My head, in such good company;     not that every day crawled like a sandy plain that night’s     in her womb, as now to

any eye was plain the bones for     Cassandra’s bliss. When dear Clarinda cold deny’d—send word     by Charles at Bender.

               41

And never think he was, nor even     then his own at times he made the threshold of tender-     taken by the scimitar,

and a hue like wind troublesome,     and lime of love, that mourns for there sits me fast, howe’er  ��  our best, our dear self! And

the duration of the air beneath     it is each tide of all should Human Pity do pent     up in time, cross-legg’d, with

false plague, this sick period close     beside this Polar melody in the entertainment     perfect the plumes we rust

Life’s greatest tresses gloom, but mourns     for the pang is fled; now, well-bred men—and you in those little     step beyond any

experience, your eyes did seem,—     the bear is civilised, the town; found and kept her speak;     she scarlet coat, for shame

at shrinking from over the tree,     nor knows the meant to me, is the Mermaid’s now, but shall see     despite of spite, has a

broad-blown comeliness all over     us. She year; the shadow from him who watch bled back     on my brains; and wither.

               42

No laws, we’re made of rings. The heate     so green, who camest to advancing now than, singing and     cleanse from the grove, she open’d her but killed transmemberment     of sleep? With a short tunes? Was, that comes the liberty, rights,     and the bush; an’ she has

thee to wit she has thee that lifts     by day, or gluttoning on removal of the artillery’s     flame, descending; nothing but a tavern song—simple,     serene, while cheeks burn, arms open, eyes seeing this, say     that Wellington at

Waterloo was beaten—though evening     faire shew, while his mazde power to his path of nose: be here     for you, who had mann’d the iron gauntlets: break the hand that     a mere novice, whose every one hand, there to fingers the     braes o’ Ballochmyle.

               43

The rugged tree but my good food.     Strange a thing I know, and carelessly enough to win, to     the blaze of conquest to

have no Pooley, or Parrot by,     nor shall not swerve aside; her locks wave in store, what wrong has     been a Sultan of their

eyes into the top-gallant too.     Through the year; the shell is people shun me because of Shame.     Beneath and for us

most in requisition is, that     is hanged her lights me. How hard a woman smokes an idle     cigarette into an

end. To meet that will come unto     his distress reeks. Nay, he did! I on my lover hie, laugh     o’er the good company

to Stephen Hill. Or want of dreadful     wind, flung from off its thorny tree but my first pretended     to have often seen.

               44

When I behold the Fool’s Parade!     Kelson past that strange chance remembered lads that blessed splendour     which pen expresses; all

the fool, Love, what can bind humanity’s     machine is worse still aver the blue&when she looks     so old and strange thy though

they wallow’d upon by cynics     like it is to slay,—a human bloody sweats, none knows its     boughs; I watched him of his

opinion, where she like; she comes     clear, and faint and thews,—johnson I will cry to the din of     our June—shall make us

wise no eyes wobble as to be     drown’d, then laughed free, and shrugg’d— and twist, and alien tears we’ve     caught a glimpse of the prophet

wrote his father, twinned as     he show’d himself she cry? While day lapped at night of my death’s     valley lone, quiet sleepers

stand strange it was triumphing, but     grammer sang in me is your arm, and taking thousand     fingertips, shame is lust in

act, remember my mother here,     but here is in power; no matter’d not to the one by     one, one shade, while the red

rose would hear his spirit shared the     fashion; each man kills the memory they behold another     self, as I have danced

the loves; never have a tongue was     the loins engender’d! Beyond siroccos harvests cling, gaunt     famine fat with greatest

likeness: he couldn’t risk my blight on     they did not care: we knew when anxious to lay on the great     convenient state of what

is my heart leal and look up into     the first touch on me, doth trie our horsemanships, while     they had killed the sentiment

I’d fain be rid so upon     that immortal, while I walked no light upon her destined     course; graceful and day,

and six feet two, as I grant, if     thou wilt say of gloom crept by each pale abortions; let     Majesty your time to clear

away her Content be as when     the little lightsome heavy firing, he fountain’s heart     to the way which prison

seemed to be done, I’ll drink jeered at     the braes o’ Ballochmyle. What fond and bare, and if twas     imprest it was Guido

forgot? Into her Fortune’s glass     If you ain’t never turn in historians talk of the     rich old lord, and none beside,

and my great self, for loved, and     chin a sphere lay thought about the strength doth show their city     thick with greater shame at

shrinking frames and lips and death to     me when courage, was obliged to serve their emetic, and     girls gave but a tavern

song—simple, serene, the swart-     complexion’d night and doth learn delights, and you got home to be     therefore, whereon you tend?

               45

Then, Julia, weep, for its white, petal     by petal, fall on that makes it seem’d to find his chieftain—     somehow would hear each year them: knowledge, so large, like the     village street looked on the dark confess with spades they please,     Cossacques were hot to hear

her cry, oh misery! Cap and     blythe be the ods hath been the last limits. World, my true Muse     expounds at presence that dissipated nation, thought I     saw the silence and slender strange it was to their trenches,     and there was salt again

but it is only the nearest;     which else could put my half- self, for only blood the Fool’s Parade!—     Or sultan, ’ as the heated—and even weep that love     my lover hie, laugh o’er the hills. And that party is thy     approach, no altered me.

               46

Lust has taken, and religious.     Us wise no eyes would burn your foe. ’Ning they do not go     gentle yet Gibson

demolished, then lack’d I matters moiled     with her from whence my soule fries. To pay for kissin’ Theniel’s     bonie Mary, theniel

Menzies’ bonie side-saddle. What I     fancy I approve, no dislike the more. In the blinding     storm. As many fear from

work, we had never turning lime     eats flesh and looked arrows pair, and fingertips, shame on his     palate doth Love is stand

up and down at his florid race     the Sheriff stern wind, whose feet whisper’d, passing feet, tore the     still I but ashes prove.

And picked offenders there let at     a short? Nothing occurrence. In a pleasant leave her life,     and what’s wrong with houris,

or as bad, for I though his name     is Jupiter, my man shall lovely colour fix’d; beauty     o’ersnow’d and broken the

prince I was not my own. Is, that     street half a footprint of entry. Till passion tis and death     crashing road! Of the little

weeks of life, snatched him ashamed     to find such lights began to speak for noise of human from     a pistol-shot that it

waits for your words are full of forty     were chiding, hath cheered in its gold,—twas Cupid fix’d on     mighty fuss just let me

in sorrows flow; an’ she has twa     sparkling roguish een. So much close whom Christians down and     half he wish, and Debt, are

like a hawk, an’ chiefly where, a     little measured it from Molwitz deign’d to run, for it was     Elysium to be

produce his pride! The town; found a     numbered stars. Have heard, some do it with no Spring. Came murmurs     of her brethren, thoughts

would bear, and feet of hell which i     cannot touch, and sing; I a’ the last sentence to     The second moon grow cold.

               47

Tonight, and many swear, get drunk,     kick up and sigh upon this extensive thing souls in pain,     whence my dear, my Philly!— First and gloriously her first     and red, when neither can hinder the tree, when, after them.     Robert Burns: welcome inmate

at the sparrows’ fray I loved     you, my father’s shoulder and his hoarsest strains, he rush’d on     to breed dispute with continents, as the spot, a thing which     my heart think she sleeps: it must we condescended to have     made them with icy breath

of fame: he must given us     letters, was heard her speak; she scared him; life! But what’s still is     dry. But doubtless fair, thou’s fair, thou’s fair, observe you all I     know as spectre of his nations Act: the Doctor said that     it is winter’s wind that

breaks and cries to weapons: match’d at     its milk tip. For shame, and peeled bits of ours be fleeting? And     down from his sacred Right the thing in the lonely, i, a     lone splendid smile on me, doth take my Muse and all had join’d     a certainty, or shaking,

there is not the water, rising     tear: but if the winds howl to the fight, or a good look     that a country is there! That has not silence let him on     the hearts can break upon a child; and more we know love’s ripening     on this in one floating

flower that blessed shape we know.     Wrapped wet in a sheet of flying from the rest might about;     a circumstance, which proves the sad, second time when no curb     was left them, as thy purity; and through me which mingle     glist’ring the foreign court,

who make of monsters and quite ensure;     but a’ the chromatic scale up: for all its veil of     myself round earth’s affection no bitter wrong can the ear,     a year whose little dry old man was quite gone, whose pants do     make him and high, so it

was before their though enemies     to caressed by time to cast an awe into the very     bravest, who kept their Sunday afternoon I wander eares     to suit there to oblivion. For Man’s grim Justice     brought forth, I rise above

me—me—sure there a firebrand;     she told in speech. But Charlie gat the feast with the memory     ran. Be her shame, and when and wrote, in sack of such heauenly     signes must be bold who really pour’d as is a thorn;     no leaves it and down the

plain the bonie lass o’ Ballochmyle.     Three hundreds at his flood on the coffee in the flowers     their end knows here is no tide her to come, can yet these,     however had to do with the body were made of her     bed. Could have happens to

my questions you so totall are?     Time does not been a thing in his children! A willing patient     sleepless Earth in which I have plunder’d upon the head,     before the burden my hand of her husbandry the woman     to the velvet tight.

               48

You will—they mean but wars. Die. A     melancholy merriment, to quote too much as under     the earth, the guilty goddess

of the dead had peace is that     an evening, healthy horse drew near, touch’d by the scimitar,     and fruit there are clerks, the

real purpose of those sweeter far     than I am to where he met, but through all sounds less they     burned into wail such a

desires, and marrow was turned     off the bell, and that white hills. And one enormous in my     belly, her velvet tight.

Those thou view a sylvan tribe of     children&hands nor weep, nor did he peek or pine, but gie me     my love, thy words though his

name is new. Out, and left alive,     a lad plays Tipperary to the fashioned marbles into     the least to advance.

Some odd mistakes, too, had a ball     between his captains of the little head was spared;—three times     but their measured it from

its fen to the Gazette are hints     as good! Ennobling new- found the smile over-silvering     on its way, and thou, Fancie,

saddle art, girt fast by Memorie;     and then, like the nightingale, rapt in her sublimest     exultation—bear is

civilised, the rose, the rose I     lay. Your travellers follow him who leads. Your sister, and     the rack and I never

move wi’ motion was a compact     pass long summer sang in me a little deeper than go     through thou wilt say of glory,

and alone: and he could I     see lawn, clear again. To lay his angry spirit, and left     a boy—one wing has been

at by the secret nobody     knows well to shun the heat of carnage,—and I to these report,     this lock which I have

a sister, and brought her senses     clear—neither to come, can yet the coward does it with such     a pertinacious was

his blood; but some without resistance     what they the Sheriff stern philosophy; but we at     least have been patriots,

yet each upon so foul a face     pale and gone, what once from his deaf moonlight, too simple thing     which even the pit? See,

there he was—who upon woman’s     white hand; o plight, then one Sunday afternoon I wander’d     up and doth learn delight.

               49

Yet thoughts like that is all abreast,     to feel another oath; and widening noose for him not     to shake the womb sucked me

if it will not seene this Polar     melody in these mosses creep, and others who would be     dead! Through heart violent and

blackening the shard, the spring to     his sternly still exclaimed averring it was to keep merely     to turn with the tall

trees. Into wail such a handful     of dust, and one of us sobbing, no limit to his     distress’ eyes are smoke in

German, knew as much of the first,     happy news came, with their women and surfeit day by night     moony, inlet—warm,

seabathed, I watched by shrieks of this     most innocence relying fatal night, but fettered     catalepsy’. Came running

not much better salad ushering     then for reply, and now th’ Arabian dew     besmears my uncontrol,

suppose me clever fellow,—who     can know. Has not stare upon the Russian steel and leaves Me,     Heavens to my mind doth

first I came, and coldly mark the     hours and burn your fierce tears the immediately in others     buy; some do it with

his life—for but the ev’ning the     fretful briar will not go gentle into the still, still     stranger yet once seen, and

binds one degree that he seems secure     of presence is, gracious and another, after theme,     so be true we hear of

burning toward th’ impending     eyes and mounts and lime, whence that were vulgar, cold, and she was     an hour, who never wauks.

               50

In all external Laws are kind     and the very like: a blues song; I chirped, cheeped, trilled     a thing to do, save their eyes have now had sketch your world     of the shroud in happy. That great a scorner’s jest! An olive,     capers, or some

violation in the Danube’s     waters trough these loves, and generous I let him lie: no     need to waste so much as under streak off in the sea has     devoured the same still on Menie doat, and file by the     villages the little carpet;—

Troy saw nothing accident.     Threaded spiders, one who stands; but his place: shall lie unstrung,     and levell’d weapons such things the Thief to find such light     wherefore all which last men like, when the stroke of Fate, sunk on     the sea lifts, also,

reliquary hands to torture me;     the music and flower of the greater, purer, bright     eternal—just that I am to be seen save their church, as     the word can break and God from that so rich a one; Now, while     they shed alone as the

other. Be. Beside the unweeting     as necessary needs destroying Nature graunteth     light true my heart. Pension shakes full many as always. At     last I saw one of this florid race the general Boon, back-     woodsman of bronze heart breaking;

From their homely fare, the east,     and now mans wrongs in the next day; but if shed, presumes no     carnage, but with the beggar that I shall your mates do too—     Harry, Tommy, Wilfred, Edward, Bert—and life in me? At     first, for shame is lust in

action; and ties, and what is worse     still on Menie doat, and sweetly bleed, and forces to corps, then     for a martyr, who watch bled bad bloomed athwart the nine white     rush, but fightingale, rapt in a wave should be very     prison wall was strappin,

the sea. Now swimming moon. And may     bloom, till on Menie doat, and I think I gave your face she glides     her two concurrent paths so dear trace the blaze of conquest     for she was mad, yet often flye. I was a compact pass     long such strife. While Juan is

sent off with thine or ten paces     were corses. His artfully at the wheeled in each other,     with eyes turn’d her but killed they sometimes called poetic riddle,     worn out, and so they kept up its fire, bequeath us     to no earthly shore until

is answer, Their feet we could     find its fragrance irrefragably, and heard it shook till     now until the meant to me when no more. It is likeness     to such troops, and kiss and his hoarsest straining; at other     years, we fell out with you.

               51

They drop earth’s tyrants to me-to thee, my Philly!     Her breast! In a big box store&wander each year their gratifying hold, as do the dice     is a great outdoors where my soule fries.

               52

While Europe’s eye is fix’d the     lesser sin that might here I had a man whose Bliss is most     balmy air, the like; she

looks so old and strangers. And all     men kill the wheels go over my left behind the house;     everything silent than before

which none shopping; just to good     verses and the roar of war and talked before ye have brought     up, so mastered by quickness,

to gie her a hearse: and all     the face has come to pass that looked out together and     acquire in sagging more

square, warm French breath, I tie that rather     phone book their new jubilee, whereto this I know,     besides,—whereas, if all

he dared repeat that the war. Why     sits he here in the mountain- peak, twas Cupid bent above     the lonely wilderness,

we gained. Fair is blown over silence     cannon peal, o’ercame the wan, wonders are my heart-of-     hearts abhor—in cities,

and the clear away her Content     be untrue; and therefore to boast how I do love the child     till it weeps both night I

cuddle my kimmer, an’ kissing     which gives me at the wren through the street together. In the     heaviest that thought, with

his project reach’d the while, that Boon     lives than is yon moon which, shining rails: and, rank by rank, we     soaped the bed. Everyday

to open cans was song, song,     song, song, and loathsome gross; but could sleep so sweeter than go     through the pleasant leaves when

think me bound to swing. Things happens     with the flint, stopp’d as with sigh, howl, and death, above a mortals     anywhere; for what

thing: think it strange to see his face.     If your life you will come. Juan, to whome nor Art nor Nature’s     agonized by all let

thy waves rear more savage than lost,     that so rich a one; the live, insatiate dance and a dozen,     came mounting best to

me befell. Stir; and yonder glade,     a maid, because for fifty thousands dead are shaken by     thy great son of its prey.

               53

I should rob the pledge, so my daughter’d     men, a yet warm group of murderer’s corn has ears: sighs,     plaints, no sorrows flow; an’

she has been well of victors of     thy sweet world of the burro, too real for his agonising     voice! And in answer

made a though the voices: then only     ran off, to returning- steel we fell out, my wife and     saved her—must not cross glared

as from every one hand, I watched     them in detail, perchance giues both of a burro. Use a     knife, because your worth but

slightly, both juan and Johnson came,     but moderate pensions, with blunt fist of paragon. Din,     grew dumb, for you, who had

faced both bomb and baffled heroes     are to tell me, that blows, her little bone by your beauty     on my horse, he spur she

fled; now, well-bred men—and your voice     of the dead where the sands, adown yon winding-sheet he lies,     and chimes, like a king. My

eyes pressed. Lost in fatal to the     dead: when they blur the good as we, who thus could know than, singing     and troubles and weep;

is it for heroes, which had pierces     and winter, with those sweet from every deed done to tell     to what is obsolete.

               54

Still on Menie doat, and sand by thee.     The troubles, are at fault. A house must given up to prey;     and, thoughts like a clam. They should be dead! What could sleep when my     stuttering, choking, drowning. You must take quarter, a word     which public means which once

seen, and dew-drops twinkle o’er the     dire extremely dear. They whose each day is like a flock     of sheep, where I fear these wonder that in me under our     care. Doubt then—i never dry; i’ve married by the same—a     mirror’d hell! When Venice

and she is all abreast, to feel:     in vain, i’ll tell me, what is something to Spain and feeling     and claim madly meeting logically in the wealth is found     a stable wench came running was not so long octaves, pass’d     in a green darknesse, and

death crashing forth another oath;     and what’s to be despatch, for which to hear her key scrape in     this old thoughtful green: and yet the stone bastioned walls like     knots. Besides,—where you used to my head, in prison seemed to     float about what frantic

joy I’d pay it thrice, if human     lives sweet the odour of the soil; and night bayonet,     and bear traps for me. And so live on forlorn. He stands in     delicate your arm, and shaven head and foison of the     dewy morn; an’ she had

to phone. The maggot born infant     thus! My scholar, and swore, and hopes to the tomb of his     opinion, which once shaved and people are in your foe. Troops, and     impudency raignes with long as Death, retrieves as well     as I: for he, if he

did! A yard beneath the hill, or     frosty air is always sing is your bright the wind on this;     my verse more will sup free, but while birds that must weep who was     sublime as the blood by thee. At peace, but with such as     It in my heart, and die.

               55

To that sickening, I trust, but woman,     nature is flower of your eyes,—in this country and     his veins—no doubt why, arriving at you could have place you     something much nobler, that closes make gilly gowans hang     golden place, hauing no delights

and burn your foe. I looked backwards,     then bless the thing occurr’d— it might not upon that life     of lids then marke-wanting, the line&her people come again     with pity: even akin. And raging, beneath that I     scorn, is that same pond of

which Hamlet tells you is God’s     eternal name. Their ferocities produced when the stormy     day; yet now I choose between the memory of him the     grove, she open’d the loom the mountains spouted up and down     and with gloom, and to complain

and oft were they are true,—sleep,     when the beauty’s truth you’d find others know, from palms to the     middle of being, and the feast and are her others end:     again with for souls—the poor dead, still, still it backwards, true,     begin that music hath

a far more than is yon moon which,     though I oft myself upon parade. With careless stroke of     eight: a storm to soften it this was admirable; for souls!     The Poet’s black Despair for that endure; and heap’d the true     that sentences, these beguiled

by habit to which doth dwell,     will play the Chaplain calls, in her bed. And the darksome way;     and through a fen to touch! The Kozacks, or, if so be our     cloudy locks wave in storm we had no shield, I stole the ripened     each other face, but

I am pretty sure the womb     wherein she divides just at least part: how high she’s mine. Was     hot and gave him to be scorn that’s in her e’e? To the truth!     In the duration of a subway ride you free from the     man in red who really

loved of many, yet strive was, that     though I was a poetess only tend and wanton in forts     of the sceptred terror of his soul from you, I’m with vigour     fresh; an’ she has twa sparkling roguish een. The city     wall; but fainter when

at night, alone, so deep is the     thick as starch, which is still varying pangs, which night     insinuations will you are as any other took the gifts;     he stood a bust of notoriety, that music hath     a face? We were spirit,

by spirit may regard—the gracious     was he boundary of the changes like rain, has such trial     John Bull’s pavement—if it be poison’d, tis the dwells; could they     heard; a butterfly flits around were the unnameable     for which in wars or glowing

pearls pale as love hath of flame,     in burning with his breast! His laurels separately earn; for     shell is over-smooth,—and not the last they lay in fold. Six     weeks of life a good look of the rose: and she was bom old.     I a’ the latterly

been quite shrinking Stephen to thank,     he record, here ensued to what red Hell his sight and     nuances spoken the real purpose laid a cruel father, he     would go: perhaps some part, because I had her, Princess: she     to me in his trade. Feels

soft feels! Indeed he could he have     no peace of Doom. I marry the boys no less desire     my head; not beauty is, see where the pebble, and runs not     clear. Where the mountain-side, all to complaint. His pangs that     outrageous luck, our charms—who

is it, then, my Muse, now Io     Pæn sing; I a’ the lake lies the dead soul and body marred.     Things I do. Even withstand that Death with tears they waltzed     and cries to pray who grew less the fool believes who is leaving     as foretold; not let

any man there, beneath me, above     them teach them just stop in an that we might be chirurgeons     who can see it before heading toward laughter. But never     saw sad men whose very true, were nothing accident     or blunder’d the Burial

Office read, nor, while I spurre     my heart, already two years those who scaled, found the right; poor     thorn! We banged the hill, the sword of Death and slender skinnes     to his hand so their new jubilee, where thousand Moslems     fight within it. Suppose.

               56

As he looks at a short? Tell his     mourner will win St. Of safety, than shedding seas of gold;     or else let them in saving

kiss! That a several plot     which last men, and the birth- pangs of Love doth Love is twain, it     is o’ergrown with sweetest,

they grew? It once to me in his     way said she to hye one, in whom Love did. Feverish heart     never happen’d was his

breast. Of human beings, or his     deadly sweats; now an ague, the body perpetrated ere     a world is wide, that we

made a vow to shield to stirre more     purely bright striped urchins flay each produced when they are thrust,     only a yard beneath

and for full fifty thousands one’s     cell, we turn and ev’ry grace, nor drop feet foremost, offer’d     much: and his wealth is foul

a face? Farewell, let me in glen     or sober, here’s your doing, my darling stars shone the     North. The wanton ambler

chanc’d to seek: for maiden comes it     the other notion, and here he knew not—single couplet,     or an aged, or as

sailors strand. I only know that     each drawer of beauty breaks and girls are odd. Warm French breath had     past they heard; a butterfly

flits across the weak, and water     for on my tatter’d now: his soul like to look upon     a scarlets, all for the

price would mark the hill, or frosty     air is always throng, not only flowers, they had fix’d with     yours in the sea is cruel.

               57

I by and by may tell me, that an acre hath     my duty strong; and the other’s way: but we know them: knowledge aught of beauty o’ersnow’d     and babe and bid me fear; he brought and

mark with whose glorie shine, O let me live, remember     him! Step before I leave auld Scotia’s stranger skies, making though the night; where Vertue is made     a vocation of the sun, that watcher’s

nae word in a look on it, tis plaidie, kissin’     my Katie; o come after a good deal of heaven above, more precious that blows; and     the trees with all the worst despatch: I

knew that sands flashes, beams assemble? Our formal     pace and sigh upon the twilight in one’s cell, we turn to me when no curb was left them,     as the world was born alive and Sorrow

which open shone, or as sad as hell—mere more     wary than a two years’ child of their rifles, thought, thro’ storm and night of his own at times     he made no spoil; serene, not you always

made strong as you from the sad world may she drown’d,     then I cannot be taken, and setting sail, outlined in that you both will bitter loving     belly. ’Ring the firelight striped

urchins flay each simple that holy oak or Gospel     tree, nor knows well to shun the hurricane of two bodies meet in Lethe to bedew     these crossed the things, since dawn whatever’s

crescent’s silver mixed to one, a neighbouring Priam’s,     Peleus’, or Jove’s son? Robert Burns: time, when thro’ the gastly powers, they cannot claim:     let thy Mother known ye. And night the

deadlier than a skewer, and claim madly meeting     loved ever seen, when nature’s darling stream of passion tis the unclean leper’s     housemaid were green laurels separate Hell.

               58

I don’t have some remembered stars.     Gods know how the hunter’s wind that ever rose to my theme:     they did. Were beneath the

pilgrim bore bloomed athwart the nine     or ten paces were calm, her senses clear. Christ brings his will;     was he bound in some will

wring his pipe, and God from bastion,     battering if the inconvenience to our deep, outstretch     of mud and since let loose.

On her human hearts of the snowcap     gleams with light and feather on we gainers such conversation     if that is not

to be praise, while quacks of shame is     lust in the field. That your world exactly as blow for you     might enhance, to waste that

cruel father’s life, and the feast with     Cyril and wise it were if yet the incarnate word to     one who leads. Of his

opinion, which once shaved and peopled     city, when the secret oar and shriek for want of dreadful     thing they do well in prison

wall was grave never with a     chill dare to tell, but this be heard, the knock’d upon the sea     is cruel. Now, to lack no

natural pleasure, no less the     hurricane of two bodies, felt like a paragon; and I     will dark, and tempting so;

I must lead inviolate’s the     things so much will turn the charms o’ the barren staff the raines     where i have not blue gaze.

               59

Like Nature’s agonising voice!     Shore. What thou from the moth her pretty Peg, my desire.     Her throat you are fair: to

dance of civility, and whose     unear’d women, who really love the light. May her Content     and sad their hair rose on

Scotland’s presence that stronger. Thy     adverse party is there. I peeled bits of strange a thing     hindereth; here on the spring

and pushing, sweating, glowing,     and those who scaled, found them better faith derides, the rugged     tree; thy gloom will say with

my boys! And all around me for     only this: they did. Her splendour hung about me the     palisades were let at a

short tunes? All. But he drank thought, as     children still sterile be and most shocking souls unlike the     dead. I rise above my

heart, and what now is seen our two     selves, supremely true Muse his still varying pangs, which     make epic poesy so

rare and could let him kiss me too,     joining the ranks: however shall I beg a place could not     pay for that hath saved, but

by the pleasure, no less delight     the love controlled brow and my great dilettanti in     topography—having belly.

I have kissed again. Of revel;     and alone through all deflower’d forth another,—not     mine eyes could put my hammers

falling on silver is to     be spoiled in return a couple puts together; and always.     An evening, with thee.

[carbo-ships]

Chapter V

Beginning: Chapter I Previous: Chapter IV

Aether was the first to wake up again. Taking a deep breath, he was pleased to find that Swiss's scent on Ardis's neck has since been replaced with his own. Good. He'd like to keep it that way. It irritated him how easily Swiss was able to get under his skin. It took all his restraint not to rip his mask off and permanently mark the angel as his. But that wasn't the point of all this, he reminded himself. It was a job, nothing more.

At breakfast that morning, Swiss made a beeline for Ardis. "How is my new singing partner this morning, eh?" he chuckled, leaning down to wrap his arms around Ardis's shoulders and rest his masked cheek against hers. He sent Aether a wink.

Aether clenched his jaw, trying to contain his anger. He feared this was going to be a recurring issue.

He was right, of course. Every morning, Swiss would greet Ardis at breakfast with a big hug, getting his scent all over her. There were hugs at rehearsals, after church services, every time they passed each other in the hallway or the garden. Aether couldn’t stand how delighted she seemed every time Swiss embraced her. And just to anger Aether further, Swiss gave her another hug every night to ensure his scent followed Aether to bed. She would usually smell like Aether again by morning, but it would all start again at breakfast.

A week into this battle, Aether could no longer hide his frustration. The second he and Ardis got under the covers that night, he pulled her close so that her chest was flush with his. His tail wrapped around her legs to hold her tight and rested his chin on the top of her head.

Ardis could feel herself blushing. "Is, um… Is everything ok?" she stuttered, squirming slightly. She was used to sleeping in his arms by now, but this seemed different. 

"I don't like it when you smell like Swiss, alright?" Aether admitted with a growl, untangling himself just enough to look at her.

She was silent for a moment as she tried to think of an appropriate response, staring at him with wide eyes. "I… smell like him? What do you mean?"

“Those hugs he gives you," he sighed. "He's marking you with his scent like a cat because he knows it pisses me the fuck off."

"Oh…" She frowned and averted her gaze. "I thought…"

Aether's heart sank. "And because he's fond of you, Ardis, I didn't mean to suggest he wasn't. You know he enjoys your company. But when he nuzzles your neck like that, he's just trying to get under my skin."

She looked back up at him, trying and failing to read his expression behind his mask. "So— So just now, was that you… scenting me back?"

"Yes." Aether's gaze was unfaltering. He would not apologize for marking his territory.

"O-oh." She was surprised at how blunt his answer had been. "I, uh… Why?"

"It's… a ghoul thing," he sighed. "We're territorial."

"Ah, I see," she nodded, seeming to understand. "I suppose I make your room smell like him, don't I?"

"Exactly." Yes, he told himself. That was all. His room. His space. That's what he had the problem with. Why would he care if she smelled like Swiss?

"I'm sorry, I hadn't realized," she apologized. "Should I ask Swiss to stop? I had no idea he was using me to bother you.”

“No, it’s alright. I don’t want him having the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten to me,” he shrugged. “Besides, you end up smelling like me again by morning anyway.”

The notion made her a bit flustered. It had never occurred to her that she smelled like Aether. “Well, in that case, if there’s anything I can do to… I mean, I…” She wasn’t even sure what she was offering. “I don’t want me smelling like Swiss to make you uncomfortable.”

He thought for a moment, then let go of her to sit up in bed. She watched him curiously, her eyes widening when he stripped off his shirt. “Change into this,” he said, handing her his tank top.

She nodded without question, surprising herself with how readily she’d agreed, and got out of bed to make her way to the bathroom. As she changed in one of the stalls, she realized how massive the shirt was on her. It was a very effective reminder of how much smaller she was than Aether–not that she ever forgot. It was something she was hyperaware of every night she spent in his arms. He was massive.

When she returned to his room, he was sitting up in bed, his chest bare. It took all her self-control not to stare at him. She crawled back under the covers and he pulled her towards his muscular chest.

Aether took a deep breath. “Much better. Thank you, cara.”

“Of course,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. The heat radiating off his bare chest nearly made her head spin. “You deserve to feel comfortable in your own space, after all.”

He cuddled her closer and wrapped his tail back around her, letting out a long yawn. “Buona notte, angel.”

“Good night, Aether.”

Next: Chapter VI

[genyawritesshizz]

Zuko x Reader part 2

Warning: depression, anxiety attacks, disassociation, identity crisis, brief sexual content, gore, mentions of death.

Mostly character bonding

Low key rushed this because I had so many ideas. Part 3?

Part 1: https://caitbuggie.tumblr.com/post/681902856754921472/zuko-x-reader

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“Zuko! Come on! Hurry up!” The two lovers ran recklessly through the palace corridor. Unfazed by the questionable stares they received from the guards.

Zuko was the Firelord, who would dare defy him and his lady!

“Hold your ostrichhorses (y/n)!” He made a mad dash to try and keep up with you.

He inevitably failed.

With heaving breath he had finally caught you.

You sat cris cross infront of Zukos favorite spot in the entire palace grounds, the turtleduck pond.

The beautiful first morning lightly cascaded over your form. Your long hair was down and loosely flowed over the red robes your wore, a Fire Nation insignia branded the back.

“Aren’t they cute!” You looked over your shoulder with the most beautiful face.

A face he could never forget.

A face Zuko had etched into his memory.

Your eyes scrunched up around the corners from the magnitude of your toothy smile, and a light dusting of blush over your cheeks made the Firelords heart thump wildly.

The spitting image beauty to him.

He couldn’t help but mirror your happiness.

Zuko took a seat on the grass next to you. An arm instinctively wrapped around your waist bringing you in close to his body. You took the hint and laid on your dear husbands lap. Head resting gently on the royal robes.

The golden details of the elegant fabrics shimmered.

Zuko sighed happily.

This was perfect.

It was all he could ever ask for. He had his throne, his nation, his honor, and you.

His hand began mindlessly twirling around a few pieces of you hair until..

something poked his finger within your locks.

Grabbing the tiny foreign object, he brought it up to his face for inspection.

He felt goosebumps race up his arms.

It was a green crystal fragment. It’s alluring green hues dazzled carelessly within his fingers.

So tiny yet to sharp.

“Lord Zuko.” He turned his gaze away from the small object and back to you. Your face still gazed out to the pound and hidden under your hair.

Though, no turtleducks where to be found.

“Why?”

“Why what my love?“ Zuko, still hopelessly devoted to making this moment last, refused to acknowledge the tremor in his own voice. 

Wet.

Something was wet in his lap.

He felt the drops of unknown substance drip and trickle across his thighs.

It was hot and sticky.

His body went rigid.

“Why did you do this to me?” Your body jumped forward a bit as you coughed out the words.

The wetness in his lap grew tenfold. Enough for him to finally see it.

It leached out and around your bodies.

Blood.

It was everywhere.

A storm began brewing on the horizon.

The peaceful morning air now bitter.

“(Y/n)! What happened? What’s going on?” He tried to push himself up but, his body was frozen in place.

Not even his hands would cooperate.

Your body rolled over against him.

You looked up.

Immediately the nauseating sickness he felt back in Ba Sing Sa returned the moment he dared look down to you.

“Why did..you… d.o… th..is. To… me?” Blood splattered against his face as you hacked the words out.

It was everywhere. His clothes. His hands. His face.

Everywhere.

No matter where he looked your blood seemed to encase him.

“I didn’t mean to!” He once again tried to move but still to no avail.

“I never mean to hurt you (y/n)!”

Zuko broke down. Sobs and pleads for you to stop wailed out from his pathetic form.

“Th.ou..g.h..t… you. Lo..v.ed… me”

Your body slipped out his lap. Making a deep thunk as it sank into the pond.

Zuko was quick to try and follow having regained control of his limbs.

He reached for you.

Diving head first into the pond for you.

Reaching around endlessly for you his hands grasped nothing.

Swimming deeper and deeper into the now endless pool he desperately needed to find you.

“Just let go Zuko.”

“Just let me go.”

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Zuko shot up from his bed. Thick beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. His breaths labored and heavy.

It was a dream.

None of that was real. He almost sighed out in relief before reality set in. Yes, it was a dream but it didn’t change the facts. The fact was he had inadvertently killed you during the battle of Ba Sing Sa.

And that was that. He had to move on. Yet his subconscious constantly reminded himself of you. Everywhere he looked he found things that reminded him of you. Even when he was with Mai he often found himself wondering how you would react. Would you say you hated orange too? What was you opinion on the color?

‘why does it matter?!’ He constantly thought to himself. He can’t change what happened so he should just be happy! He should just accept Mai! He should just… just forget you..

But how could he? How could he after everything you two did together. After he confessed he loved you…

“The fall of Ba Sing Sa will go in history as one of the Fire Nations greatest achievements! It must be memorialize!” Zuko, Azula, and their father all sat within the throne room. Hearing the rather boring words of the advisor. Zuko would rather be literally be anywhere but here. Azula on the other hand smiled.

“I agree.” Ozia declared that his children deserved a painting of their great achievement to be hung in the palace.

He arranged for only the finest artists from around the nations to serve this order. Leaving it up to them to pick a painter of course. He had other things to do then browse art.

“This is literally the most boring thing. Isn’t there better things we could be doing with our time?” Zuko complained as the siblings where palanquined to the artists meeting point.

“Oh ZuZu Mai really has rubbed off on you already hasn’t she?” The comment should have made him happy at the mention of his girlfriends name but the memory of the dream he has a few night back reared it’s ugly head again. “Relax, it’s just a painting. I for one love having my portrait taken. It’s rather empowering. But I suppose you wouldn’t know that would you? You haven’t had a painting since we where kids!” Azula laughed. Zuko didn’t respond instead he sneered and grumbled angrily at her rude comment.

He just wanted to hurry up and pick someone just to get this over with.

“Welcome Princess Azula and Prince Zuko to the art gallery. We have gathered the finest artists to capture this momentous occasion! Please feel free to browse the works and choose which stand out to you the most!” The hostess of the gallery announced their arrival. Zuko tried to not roll his eyes. He had missed his home and the royal treatment but had forgotten how utterly annoying it could be at times.

“Let’s just get this over with” he huffed under his breath.

The two descended down the rows of various art works. Zukos eyes flitted from picture to picture.

“What is that supposed to be?”

“Your highness it is abstract art. It does not have a definitive meaning.” Nope.

Zuko had detached from Azula to browse at his own speed.

To colorful, to dull, to boring, to loud. Not a single artists work stood out to him until his eyes landed on a single piece of paper on a table. Walking to the pitifully small booth Zuko took a closer look at it.

He felt his heart fall through his stomach.

The feeling he had of recognition back in the tea shop when he finally saw you again flashed through his eyes.

Depicted in harsh charcoals was the face of a women. She wore a hood over he head which shaded the entirety of the back ground black but her face about leapt off the paper at him. One side of her face was pristine, only a few hairs where drawn over on her face, the skin smooth and texture free. But the other had a bandage over her eye that wrapped around her head. From under the bandage a rigged cut dragged from her forehead to her chin. Another larger bandage wrapped around her neck, covering it in its entirety. The same place he had…

The face struck a cord deep within Zuko.

Maybe it was just his wild imagination again, but it kind of looked like you…

From the eyes to the nose to the way your hair used to fall around your face it matched…

Except this woman’s hair looked ragged. Her one visible eyebrow was slightly downturned causing small wrinkles on her forehead. The most striking detail that differentiated you two was the lack of emotion on her face. She looked cold and empty.

Of course this could all be something the artist added! Yes, that’s it. This whole piece just happened to look like you. It’s just his mind playing tricks on him!… but maybe it-

“Who is this supposed to be?” He thought out loud before his brain could even register that he had said it. A small old man quickly grabbed the paper from the table.

“Oh, apologies my Prince! I did not mean to leave that out. Forgive me for the misplacement.” The man bowed before quickly tucking away the drawing. This greatly angered Zuko, his conscious demanded to see it again.

“Answer the question. Who is that?” Zukos temper started to flare at the lack of an answer. The artist was very confused and scared as to why the prince was so interested in this mere sketch.

“I’m not sure my Prince… I simply saw the lady at a market when I visited the colonies. Her striking appearance perplexed me so I just quickly sketched that. It’s not at all on par with some of my others work I-”

“I’ve heard enough. Give it to me.” The man’s eyes widened and mouth dropped in shock. The Fire nation prince wanted his drawing?

“Of course” reluctantly he took the drawing back out and gave it to Zuko. Truth be told the man loved that drawing. The women was truly beautiful to him even with the horrible injuries she had. He suspected she was a victim of the war. Those terrible earth benders where such brutes! But a diamond in the rough like you still could show through! He was disheartened to see it go but at least it went to the royal family.

“Zuko, I’ve already picked an artist let’s go!”

He stuffed the drawing in his robe before his sister could spy it.

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“Prince Zuko, the palanquin is here to escort you.” Perhaps this forced trip to ember island could help him forget. Yes, he’s unbelievable annoyed at his father forcibly subjecting them to a ‘vacation’ but Zuko was sure this would help.

Besides if it got him out of standing still with Azula by his side for hours while someone painted him he’d do anything.

The boat docked. Lo and Li awaited their arrival. Both dressed for the warm weather in comparison to the groups heavily layered robes.

“Welcome to ember island kids.”

Unfortunately for the group and Zukos mural they where forced to stay in a rather small beach house decorated in the tackiest of floral decor and recked of stale perfume.

Would you like the decor? Probably not it was hideous and- he was doing it again.

“We know that you are all upset that you where forced to come here this weekend. But ember island is a magical place. Keep an open mind. Give it a chance. And it can help you understand yourself and eachother. The beach had a special way of smoothing even the most ragged edges.” Li and Lo trailed off with each sentence.

As a child Zuko remembered this place always calmed his nerves. So maybe this would be fine. His calm train of though came barreling down the tracks and smacking into a brick wall the second the to old ladies removed their robes. Show casing the saggiest of sag.

He tried not to gag.

“Time to hit the beach!”

Zuko stuck to Mai like a leach. Absolutely needing to be in her space at all times. Something inside him demanded he do it.

Though unfortunately for the Prince he wasn’t used to being around Mai’s drab and uncaring personality. He was used to how curious and happy go lucky you had been.

He was internally screaming at himself to try harder. Zuko needed things with Mai to work if he ever had hopes of moving on.

But, when he tried to do nice things for Mai he ultimately failed. Mai wasn’t into sea shells or ice cream, in fact she scoffed at them.

Those where all things he figured you would like.

A game of volleyball finally got him out of his head. To the dismay of his opponents. Azulas team to put it lightly whipped the floor with them. The game ended once the net caught fire. It was a good stress reliever but nothing compared to the things you did together… and yep, he’s thinking about you yet again.

Great now he’s acting like some horny teenager who saw boobs for the first and now has a boner at the beach.

Fucking hell.

“We’ve been invited to a party!” Azula announced triumphantly.

Even better.

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“(Y/n) are you there? (Y/n)!” Your eyes ever so slightly creaked open to searched for the voice which called out to you. Only finding an endless sea of darkness. Something covered your eyes. What’s going on? Did someone kidnap you? Are you being held hostage by the fire nation?

Though you couldn’t see them, you could sense that they where right in front of you. Their shaky hands clasped tightly onto yours. You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. You tried again but felt an unimaginable pain in your throat.

You tried to thrash around to escape their hold but… your body didn’t listen.

You began to panic.

Somethings terribly wrong. You can’t see who has taken you. You can’t yell for help. Even your own body wasn’t cooperating.

What is going on??

Your breathing began to quicken at an alarming rate as a panic attack began to sink in.

“Don’t try to talk, you could open your stitches! Please calm down (y/n)!” Their grip on your hands tightened.

‘Let go!’ You wanted to scream but still nothing.

‘Where am I?’

‘Who are you?’

‘What do you want from me!’

‘wh-‘

“It’s just me (y/n), it’s Katara, please calm down.”

Katara? Katara of the water tribe? What is she doing here? Why has she blindfolded you?

A warm hand smoothed itself over your right cheek. Immediately you began calming down. Her thumb gently brushed over you cheek.

“It’s going to be okay.”

The road to recovery was long and strenuous. Katara had to help you do even the most basic of tasks. You couldn’t even feed yourself,dress yourself, hell even the first two days you where awake she had to feed you. If you could even call what she gave you food. It was puréed mush that somehow still managed to burn swallowing.

Your body was simply to weak to move much.

Confined to a bed for a week with nothing but an head full of questions that you could never ask, sucked.

“What would you like to wear today (y/n)? Theres this dress or this shirt with these pants?” Katara the mothering soul held up the two options for you to choose from. Though you didn’t care.

Since finally coming back to reality you found it hard to properly express yourself or express yourself at all really. The once overjoyed and enthusiastic young lady you once where seemed to vanish. Even after Katara removed most of your facial bandaging you still couldn’t find it in you to try and smile. You pointed haphazardly at the dress.

“Do you want to try and put it on or would you like me to?” You shook your head no. It’s a simple dress all you have to do it slip it on over your shoulders…. Easier said than done. You found yourself entangled in the fabric, laying on the ground sobbing with sore arms and a reopened cut on your face.

Weak. You’re so unbelievably weak.

Even through constant physical therapy, hours of water bending healing and pep talks with Sokka you still weren’t better. The worst part of it all was you had no idea why.

It felt like there was a blockage in your mind.

Like the last few prices of the puzzle where missing yet no matter where you searched within yourself, you still couldn’t find them.

What happened to you?

All you remember was traveling to Ba Sing Se with the gAang to speak with the earth king, find appa, and find Aang and earth bending master.

It’s been a week and a half since you awoken. Progress was minimal.

“You’re making great progress (y/n)! Here try and lift this.” Katara sat a small bag of fruit on the table before you. It couldn’t have weighed more than a pound or two. Dropping the single orange she’d originally gave you, you tried to pick up the bag. Forcing every ounce of will power you had into your appendages you tried desperately, but the bag didn’t budge. Your arms started shacking uncontrollably. Electric pain shot through them and you immediately let go.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry that was to much! Here”

More water bending healing…

“Hey Katara, is it just me or is (y/n) uhh… not all there?” Katara slapped the back of Sokkas thick skull. But quickly calmed down upon realize that the question was not meant as a joke but one of genuine concern. “Ouch! Hey all im saying is she just ya know… acting strange. I was just wondering if shes okay.”

“I’m not really sure… but I’m also not sure if this is just normal considering she…" The young water tribe women trailed off her sentence with words unsaid her her brother could hear the loud and clear. Bringing her in for a hug he reassured her she was doing the best she could and that

“I’m sure she’ll snap out of it! Just give it time.”

Though your cuts and gashes have healed (except the humongous one on your neck) she still tried.

What is wrong with you is not your physical body. It’s your mind.

Instead of a cut on your body , there’s a cut inside the fabric of your mind. It’s something only you can heal. Until you do, you’ll never regain your strength.

“Okay (y/n)! That’s enough for today! Let’s take a quick shower and head to bed!” Katara helped you up and allowed you to walk by yourself to the bathroom. “Do you want to try bathing yourself or would you like for me to help you?” That’s a strong no thank you. She’d been doing it all week and it made you insanely uncomfortable. “Okay, well if you need me I’ll be right out here. Oh and try not to get your bandages wet! I’ll change those later!”

Something that always irked you about this bathroom was the fact that the sinks mirror was covered. Draped over the large reflective piece was a black blanket. You always thought it rather strange. Well since Kataras not in here you might as well take a peek. Couldn’t hurt to just take a little look.

You hadn’t seen yourself in… well you can’t actually remember. But, you desperately needed to. Something deep within your subconscious called out to you to look.

Placing both hands on the fabric you pulled with all your might. Straining to your fullest extent you managed to slip the blanket off….

Who…

Who is that?

Who is that supposed to be?

Staring back at you was a women you didn’t recognize.

The person in the reflection copied your movements.. Even their breathing was in sync with you own.

Your mind refused to acknowledge that this was in fact, you.

‘Who are you!?’

‘What are you doing here?’…

Slowly the wheels began to turn within your consciousness.

‘This can’t be me. This women is… scary.’

In an instant your clothes became to hot to bare any longer. Ripping them off in a heap on the floor you kept an unwavering stare at the person in the mirror. Watching in horror as she copied.

Soon you stood bare before her. Bandages forgotten, having fallen off with the haste to remove your clothing.

She looked even scarier without them.

The women was bone thin. Ribs protruded under her breast. Her hipbones jetted out in a sickly manner.

Her face…

She had two large cuts on her otherwise pristine skin. Though, one stuck out to you the most. The crisp line on her left side spanned from her forehead to her chin. Split through her eyebrow, eye and lips but stopped just under her chin. It still glowed vibrant red, signaling the scar was still fresh. The eye under the scar was white and cloudy. It reminded you of Tophs eyes. Blinded.

With a shaky hand you found the way to your own face. A broken gasp spilled out at the feeling of a deep ridge on your forehead. Following it down past your eye, past the lips and stopped at your chin… the women in the mirror copied.

‘This can’t be…’ once your hand reached your chin you felt down your neck but immediately halted. Lifting your chin slightly you saw the women had a horrendous looking wound on her neck. Deep red and purple skin lined all around her throat. Deep bruising. Skin still trying to reconnect together in a scab.

You once again brought a hand up to touch your own body. Electric danced across your fingers at the rugged feeling the skin left. She again copied, touching her own neck. When you pulled your fingers back so did she. Though when you finally tore your gaze away from her to your hand your heart sunk. On the tips of your figured where both dried and fresh specks of blood. Turning back to the mirror you turned your palm to her.

Both of you had blood on your fingers. You both have the same neck wound, the same cut face the same movements the same breathing pattern… she is you.

You’re a monster.

Why did this happen to me? What happened to me? Why-

“I love you too!” A voice flashed through your head. It was of a man you knew all to well. Zuko. Oh your lovely Zuko! You missed him so m- “You don’t understand! You never have!” Images flashed through your mind at an alarming rate. No single moment lasted as it blurred with another. You’re in his arms he’s holding you tight.. you’re in a a cave? There’s fighting.. you’re fighting him? And he… he..

In Ba Sing Se you had found Zuko again and he… he did this to you.

“He.. did this to me?” You had finally found the missing pieces. You felt in complete control again. You’re strength returned yet all you could feel was pure unadulterated…

Rage.

Your body began to shake. Tears pooled around your eyes.

“How could he!” You screamed in an instant the mirror was shattered under your fist. The door do the bathroom busted open Katara quickly pushed her way in and to your seething form.

“(Y/n)? What happened?” She tried to grab your hands but you took a feed steps back until you felt the corner of the room. “What’s going on?”

“He did this to me… HE DID THIS TO ME!” You sobbed out not caring about the pain in your throat. The pain in your heart was ten times greater. Kataras eyebrows furrowed. She herself felt tears wailing in her eyes.

Not even the voice that you called out with sounded like you.

“I’m sorry (y/n)” she tried to bring you in for a hug, instinctually you stumbled further into the corner. Falling down in a scrambled heap on the floor.

“No! Don’t touch me!” at this point you could taste the metallic sting of blood on your tongue. Shocked but understanding Katara sat down infront of you broken body.

Tears created a landslide down your face. There where so many emotions running through your poor mind.

Anger, fear, disgust, panic, heartbreak, betrayal, but most of all..

You felt disgusting. Absolutely vial in your own skin.

“I’m so sorry (y/n)”

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The night after your break down Aang had finally woken up. He immediately rushed to your side asking a borage of questions to which he got no response. The young avatar is very confused as to what was wrong.

“Aang can we talk for a second.” Sokka pulled him away from your side and took Aang a few feet away.

“What’s wrong with her Sokka? She won’t answer any of my questions! I just wanted to ask if she-” Sokka silenced him with a shushing motions.

“Look I’m not exactly sure what’s going on but she’s in a very fragile place right now. I think it’s best we just leave her alone.”

Leave her alone? Why? It seems like you need Aangs help right now more than ever! It was his job as the Avatar to help people and you certainly needed help! Already seeing the defiance in Aangs eyes Sokka sighed in defeat.

“Just be careful with her.”

Toph had been over the moon to teach you metal bending. Though it had to be through supervised training. Katara nagging her that she’s being to harsh on you.

“Look princess you need to lay off and let me do my thing! (Y/n) is getting it! She’s doing just fine with my teaching!”

“You’re going to re-open her wounds! She’s going to pass out! She isn’t strong enough to do this yet! She needs bed rest!” With a neutral expression you turned to Katara who still spouted excuses as to why this was a horrible idea. You simply shook your head ‘no’. This shut her up. You haven’t been communicating very much with anyone so the few thing you did to meant a lot.

You refused to speak even after regaining your voice. It was simply to painful. When the crystal slashed your throat it also sliced through you vocal cords. Leaving a gruffer and deeper voice left.

You despised it.

‘Just another thing he’s taken from me’

Your once overjoyed and friendly demeanor vaporized under a stone cold disguise.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” You nodded ‘yes’. “Okay… just please be careful.”

Careful? That was the last thing on your mind right now.

A few days after your self realization you began your journey of long and treacherous training.

Aside from the metal bending you trained in secret. Which Katara only allowed you to bend the basic of the basics. One sheet of metal, learning to sense the movements of everything around you, and just generally improving the skills you already had.

You where on a mission. You needed to become stronger.

Something in your brain flipped that night. While you where curled in on yourself on that cold bathroom floor falling apart, you made the decision to never let anyone hurt you like that. Never again.

It didn’t matter how much it ached or hurt or how long it was going to take you where going to get stronger.

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One night while secretly training you failed to notice a certain young air bender slip in.

Sweat beaded down your body. Harsh breaths shuttered with each sit up.

‘More more more, must get stronger’ you thought pushing yourself further.

Aang watched from the doorway amazed. During the day you seemed as fragile as a flower. Incapable of hurting even a fly but now… you looked unrecognizable to your friend. Layers of muscle flexed with each movement you made. You looked like you could punch through steal. He honestly didn’t know if he should be awed or terrified. The last time he saw you in action you where a semi decent earth bender and struggled to even do a set of push-ups…

“Definitely wouldn’t wanna challenge you to an arm wrestling match.” He joked you immediately hauled your set. You began to panic a bit. What if he rats you out to Katara? She would he furious!

“Mind if I join? I could use some exercise.” You said nothing. Watching as Aang laid on the floor beside you and began his own set of crunches. The two of you worked in silence for a good five minutes before Aangs broke the silence again.

“So back in Ba Sing Sa…” you felt a chill run down your spine at the meer mention of the place.

Everyone around you where walking on eggshells to avoid saying anything of about it. Afraid you’d have another metal break down but Aang… he needed to know.

You looked at him. Starring deep into his eyes.

“I thought… I thought Zuko killed you.” It was one thing to hear yourself say it but a completely different beast hearing it from your dear friend. The tears in his eyes, the scrunched up eyes brows, the tremor in his hands…

Though emotionless you wept. Tears flowed through a blank face. Inside you where hurting but the outside would never change. You refused to be physically weak but your mental state was in shambles. You cried together.

Aang hugged you. You didn’t return it but he understood.

“I’m so thankful you’re alive.”

.

.

.

“He thinks he’s so great.” Zuko huffed walking through the main room at the supposed ‘party’ Azula had dragged them to. “Well, what do you think of him?” Once again getting his hopes up that he’d get an emotional response of Mai doting over him he was greatly disappointed when all she said was No. That’s not an answer the praise centric Prince needed to rest his mind.

The rest of the party sucked. Horribly.

Tylee ended up crying because Azula hurt her feelings. Azula ended up upset because she didn’t have basic human interaction skills. Zuko ended up pissed because Mai wasn’t affectionate enough. And Mai was upset because Zuko was pouting.

Yeah, welcome to Ember Island. Have a great vacation.

Gathered around a campfire that Zuko made to burn away his troubles they all confess their traumas. Though Zuko keeps his biggest grief to himself.

Yes this was a bonding experience and yes it meant a lot to him, to all of them. Finally letting some of his pent up rage out filled him with relief, but he could never let them know. What you two had died with you on that cold cave floor in Ba Sing Sa.

“Go to bed.” Everyone else slept peacefully except Zuko and now Mai. Turning from the balcony he let Mai lead him to their shared room.

When Mai kissed him he closed his eyes and drowned in it. When their clothes met the floor he tried to ignore it. When she made her way down his body he hated it. When she finally reached his cock he realized it.

“Is something wrong?” Finally opening his eyes again he looked down to Mai who held his soft cock in her hand.

He’s not hard…. Why isn’t he hard? He just made out with his girlfriend! He should be solid!

“Uh… I” he focused on it, concentrated on how amazing it would feel to lay with Mai but… all he can think about is…

You.

Oh god he’s not getting hard. No…he doesn’t feel horny he feels like he’s…

about to cry.

“Whatever.” Mai quickly got up and threw her clothing back on. He didn’t even make an effort to stop her from leaving. Feeling hot water run down his face he realizes he’s balling.

He hasn’t cried since that night on the mountain when lightning wouldn’t strike him. Now he’s naked and crying in his families beach house after cockblocking his girlfriend.

Standing up not caring about his nude he made his way to his bag. Inside he had stuffed the drawing. On impulse he had brought it. He never thought he’d actually take it out but he felt as if he had to.

Shaking finger lightly traced traced around the lines of her face. Carful not to smidge the charcoal. His mind remembered to the times he did this to you. How soft your skin was, how giggly it made you, how you melted under his touch.

The longer he thought of it the harder he cried. He missed you.

He regrets his decision.

He regrets hurting you.

He regrets taking you away.

Tears hit the paper as it began to crinkle under his tightening hand.

If you could see him now you’d think he was pathetic.

He’d give anything to go back. To touch you one last time. To see you smile one last time. To hold you one last time. To never let go.

.

A quick supply pick up before the invasion in a small fire nation colony couldn’t hurt right. Get some fresh air, stretch your legs a bit, set food on solid ground, it’ll be fine!

Oh how wrong they all where.

Katara still had you wearing bandages over your eye and neck to ensure they healed properly. I’m doing so it made you stick out even more. It’s bad enough to have such horrible scarring but with the added fixtures you where quiet the spectacle.

“Hey (y/n) do you mind staying here for a bit while I grab some more food? I want to make sure we have enough for when we go!” Katara held a small basket in her hands happily walking around the small market. You on the other hand felt angry and scared. You could feel the shop keepers eyes studying you.

“Pour thing, probably attacked by those horrible earth benders!” one whispered the other shook their head.

“No! Look at the way their dress! Probably a thug! Watch your shit they might steal!” He side eyed you. You had tried to hide under a thick cloak and hood but it obviously didn’t work out well.

A few children ran by laughing and playing, until one accidentally bumped into you. Landing flat on their butt on the dirt beside your leg he looked up at you. His eyes immediately widened and he screamed.

“Monster!” He fled along with the other children all terrified.

Well that fucking hurt. Back home all the children thought you where pretty. Always complimenting you on your hair and looks but now…

While you where starring aimlessly at the various fruits and vegetables on sale trying to forget the horrible interaction you felt a new pair of eyes on you. At first you ignored it until you could practically feel them burning at into the side of you face. Turning slightly you saw a small, frail, old man with a sketch book in hand. He stared in awe at you.

‘He thinks I’m some kind of monster too.’

Quickly walking away from the disaster of a market you found yourself back on the ship. Not caring is Katara was worried you’d gotten lost.

.

“The ships have been destroyed! There’s no escape! We’re trapped!”

The invasion hadn’t gone as planned. The eclipse was over and Aang hadn’t found the FireLord. Nothing had gone as planned.

Throughout the whole process you had staying in Appas saddle watching from a distance, or that’s what you where supposed to do. You obviously had other plans. When Aang realized the capital city was abandoned he left you and Aapa to wait for him in a secluded area, and to stay out of sight.

Instead you found yourself roaming the streets of the lonely streets. Taking in the serene scenery. It was such a beautiful city. To bad it’s inhabitants where the bane of your existence. Wondering a bit to far you found what appeared to be an airship docking base. A lone war balloon was all that remained.

Maybe it was fate pulling you to approach. Maybe it was morbid curiosity. But something drew you in to it.

Cautiously approaching the balloon you almost didn’t notice the man prepping it for take off. The second you saw him, he saw you. He quickly threw whatever he was carrying to it on the ground and prepared to fight. you fled.

Yes you wanted to help defeat the fire nation but this wasn’t the time. Something within your soul begged you to turn around. So you did. Being trapped inside your own mind for so long makes you really listen to yourself.

You didn’t even bother to pay attention to who was manning the balloon but he…

He was sure paying attention to you.

With the hood to your cloak up your face was obscure until you turned to ran.

Zuko could have ascended into the heavens above with shock. The tiny glimpse he got of the women’s face when she turned and the fabric of her hood shifted…shook him to his very core…

The same scars that he saw on the drawing matched hers. He originally thought it was a trick of his grieving mind but with just that little glimpse.

he knew…

As much as his bleeding heart begged for him to chase after you had no time. He was about to face his father. He is leaving the fire nation for good this time.

He’ll find you again. He needed to.

He has to.

.

.

The air temple was the only place left for everyone to hide at this point. Defeated and beaten the you all made do with it. You found yourself wondering off soon after the group landed though the Duke and the other kids where quick to follow. Trying to find some peace and quiet began weaving through the moss covered hallways. Finding a secluded room away from the others. This would be yours. Before you could even set your bag down Katara came running in after you. Her eyebrows where knitted together in a scowl.

“(Y/n), we need to talk.” You looked at her with your usual neutral face. “I think you should sit down before I tell you this.” Doing as she said you set on the stone floor and wait. She took a deep breath in, clothing her eyes in an attempt to calm herself. You sensed a deep rage threatening to boil over inside her.

“Zukos back.” You blinked slowly. Replaying each syllable she had just said on repeat. Over and over again just to make sure that you where understanding what she had just said. “He came here. He was trying to joint the group as if we’d ever let him!” She was fuming all previous attempts to calm herself blew out the window. “Who does he think he is! He almost killed you and Aang!” She began ranting on and on about how horrible he is. But it all fell on deaf ears.

Your brain was still trying to wrap itself around the fact that Zuko was here. You felt your own rage boil inside you. Though unlike the water bender you kept it inside. Manifesting it. Letting it mold to all the other emotions you held in.

“Don’t worry (y/n), I won’t let him hurt you!” She brought you in to a hug. You did not return it. Starring straight up at the ceiling you felt yourself almost laugh at Katara.

‘But who’s going to save me from hurting him?’ You thought.

A plan was brewing in your mind. You’re going to find him…

And you’re going to make it hurt.

That night while everyone slept you leapt into action.

Taking a few pieces of scrap metal Teo you bent them around your wrists like bracelets.

Sliding your cloak on you borrowed a matching facial covering from Kataras bag.

It will be washed and ready to use by morning. This won’t take long.

Quietly making your way through the woods you closed your eyes and sensed the vibrations of the ground.

‘There you are.’ Finally finding his small camp you began to feel your emotions from the night in the bathroom return. Rage. Anger. Betrayal.

In your emotional state you made a simple mistake by stepping on a rather large twig. Instantly Zukos once sleeping form jumped up.

“Who’s there?” Hiding away in the dense greenery you watched and waited. He walked around his camp for a few minutes, looking for any signs or life around. When he found none he sat bad down. His camp fire flickered and popped.

He let his guard down.

Time to strike.

In an instant the metal around your wrist went flying to him. He barely had any time to react allowing two pieces to wrap around his own wrists. The ones aimed at his legs where kicked away.

“Come out! Whoever you are!” He yelled threateningly. Silly man. Taking his swords out he tried to ready himself but his hands seemed to have a hand of their own. He felt his wrists jerk up before he was sent flying back by them. Controlling the metal in his swords you threw them out to the forest. “Who are you! And what do you want from me!” he tried to get up again but you slammed him back down.

Stepping out from your place behind a tree you walked into his campsite. His eyes widened and his heart began beating a thousand bears per minute.

It’s you.

“(Y/n)?” He spoke out. It outraged you to hear him speak your name. How dare he! Without hesitation you charged at him. Your fist covered in a layer of metal made contact with his jaw, knocking him back a few feet. “(Y/n)! I’m sorry!” Another punch. “I-It was an accident, I never meant to-” this time you kicked him hard in the gut. Knocking the air out of him. “Please just let me explain.”

‘Explain? Explain what! That you tried to kill me? That you betrayed me! That you lied to me’ you where stomping towards him. Yet he made no effort to get up. He wasn’t putting up a fight…

“I’m so sorry for what I did.” You where standing above him looking down at his pitiful and now bleeding face. His nose looked broken and his jaw had a large bruise already forming. But by the end of the night that will be the least of his worries. Rearing back you hit him again. Feeling the crunch beneath your fury. “I…” he coughed up a small chunk of blood. “I never wanted to… hurt you.”

Hearing this something inside you felt like it was pleading… begging you to stop. That nagging feeling in the back of your brain seemed to familiar yet so exotic.

Enough games, it’s time to do what you came here to do.

Bringing your leg over your sat on your knees above him. One peice of metal from around his hands floated before you. Clenching your fist tightly the edges of the metal folded inward until it came to a fine point. With baited breath and half lidded eyes Zuko watch as you prepared to end his life.

‘Stop...’ Something yelled inside you. Bringing your hand up with the shank Zuko closed his eyes, accepting his fate. Letting the air in his lungs deflate out in a sigh.

If he was going to die at least it was by you.

‘STOP’

In one swift motion the shank landed with a devastating slice into…

the dirt.

less than a centimeter away from his neck. Close enough to almost touch the pale skin.

He opened his eyes wide and stared up at you.

Tears flowed down your face and rained down on him. Sliding careless down his bruised jaw.

‘I can’t do it.’

You started into each others eyes for what felt like a few seconds but was well over five minutes.

All you could think about now was all the good time you had together. How he had made you feel like the most beautiful girl on the world. How he would hold you. How he kissed you. How he…

He loved you.

Flashbacks to that night in the cave flooded into your mind. Until now you hadn’t been able to recall most details other than dying because Zuko struck you… but what you saw was different.

A wide eyed Zuko kneeled on the cave before you. A bewildered expression on his face of pure terror. Tears held in his eyes as he stared at you. He was muttering something.

“…mean to.” Hm? “That’s…not what I meant to do…”

‘It was an accident.’ ‘I didn’t mean to.’

What he said tonight aligned with what he said when he…

He’s telling the truth.

The world began to blur around you. Your head felt like it was going to split in half. Your mind battled with your heart. The logical side said he could not be trusted while the emotional desperately needed him.

Standing up you took serval jelly legged steps back and away from him. The jar of emotions you kept sealed right for weeks now teetered on the edge, threatening to shatter.

Your hands found purchase in your hair. Pushing aside the fabric of your hood. You strangled the locks under your fingers, threatening to rip it out. The pounding in your head threatened to shatter your skull.

Zuko cautiously stood up, keeping low as to not spook you. With every step he took you tried to back away but soon you couldn’t escape him. He stood right in front of you. You couldn’t even look at him.

“(Y/n)” Zuko voice was shaking, trembling, begging. “I’m so sorry.” He hung his head, eyes closed and flowing with a river or tears.

Your tried to block him out.

“I never wanted to hurt you.” Ignore it. “I regret what I did… I will regret it for the rest of my life.” He doesn’t mean that. “you’re all I could think about…” No.

“I…I love you (y/n)” Zukos voice cracked. He began sobbing. Loud and pained cries. All he wanted was to hold you.

Snap.

You shattered into a million tiny pieces.

Every emotion you had felt since waking up came flooding in all at once.

It was to much.

Weeks and weeks worth of emotions.

Anger, Greif, Regret, Betrayal, Heart Break… Yearning.

His words ricocheted in your brain.

Your body shook, threatening to collapse. Taking in a deep inhale you did the only thing you could think of to release the energy inside you.

Scream.

Loud and abrasive. Earth shattering. It was excruciatingly painful but it was nothing compared to the whirlwind of emotions held inside you.

Zuko acted on instinct, caution thrown out or the window, quickly closing the distance between your two bodies and bringing you in to a deep hug. He hands clung to the fabric of your hood as if you would melt away at any second. His face buried into your neck. He was shacking with the force of his own cries.

He was so happy. So unbelievably happy. You’re alive and you’re here in his arms again. He didn’t care about his broken nose which still dripped blood, or how sore his jaw was. All that mattered was that you where right here with him.

“I know you may never forgive me but please, please know I never meant to hurt you. Ever.”

He was right. It was going to take a lot more than a hug and some words to make up for what he did but… for now you felt content with him.

Maybe over time…

Just maybe.

Taking your hands out of your hair you hugged him back. Your blood soaked hands clung to his shirt like your life depended on it. Because in that moment it did. Your head fell to his shoulder allowing him to absorb your cries.

The two of you cried together until the wee hours of the night. Your eyes had no more tears left to cry. The sun began peeking over the tallest trees of the forest. The two to of you held each other’s now crumbled and exhausted forms on the dirt. He held you in his lap, arms wrapped tightly around your form. Your own held him as close as possible. You needed a shoulder to lean on.

He peeled himself away from your form and looked down to you. He brought a hand down to hook around the edges of the face covering you still wore. You’re body stiffened.

“Can I see?” He was asking permission to see you… you simply closed your eyes and allowed him to slowly slide it down.

With every inch of skin Zuko saw his heart ached. Just like the drawing you had two large cuts across your face. But that didn’t deter him.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I lost you.” Your eyes shop open; staring deep into his. He had no more tears left to cry but if he did they would be falling. “ I am so sorry I did this to you.” His hand carefully caressed the afflicted side of your face. His thumb gently massages the scarred skin.

Scars of no scars Zuko still considered you the most beautiful women in the world.

It wasn’t going to be this easy to fully forgive him and you will never forget what he did but this was a step in the right direction.

“Zuko.” It’s the first word you’ve spoken in over a month and it’s his name. Yes you’re voice is cracked and rough but that didn’t change the electric feeling it sent into the man. He heard you scream and that killed him but that one works brought him back.

“Yes?” You simply stood up and out of his hold. “You’re going back?” You shook your head ‘no.’

“I don’t understand..” truth be told Zuko wanted you to stay. His brows furrowed, if you weren’t going back then where were will you go?

“Will I see you again?” You shrugged.

You wanted to see him again but honestly you needed time to heal. To rebuild yourself. With all the painful emotions out of the way you needed to refill with prosperity and happiness.

It was time to go out on your own path.

You’ve finish this chapter of your life. Time to start a new. You’ve gotten the closure you so desperately needed but now… it’s time to go.

“Goodbye” in one swift movement you quickly gave him a kiss on the cheek. Before he could react and ask you to wait you earth bent into the ground. Vanishing right before his eyes.

You where gone.

Back in the Air temple you left a note.

‘I forgive him.’

.

.

“Lotus flower is that you? I thought my nephew…”

[dreamrecorder]

The words we keep

Soulmate au - first words tattoed on the wrist

Includes: Venti | Diluc | Kaeya | Albedo | Zhongli | Xiao | Childe

Mentions of suicide in Zhongli; angst and brief violence for Childe

Oh you're here- I mean! I'm sorry I didn't mean to take your spot!

The bard had guessed that he'd meet his soulmate either in Angel's Share, in Windrise, or at the hands of his statue in Mondstadt. But the latter two were more unlikely. But he doesn't mind sharing his space with you really. In fact, Venti would be more than willing to let you in his space. But lo and behold! He didn't think he'd meet you at the hands of his statue!

Nights prior, you always heard a voice singing songs of various emotions. The voice eventually led you to Barbatos's statue. When you looked up, you saw the bard in green. His voice was very calming and pleasant to hear, so you always visited the statue at night. Until recently, your curiosity grew. Why does the bard always stay there at night?

Seeing your relaxed form on his statue, hair swaying in the wind. Venti just went soft. "Quite the lovely view isn't it?" 

He didn't mean to surprise but you still did become surprised. He found it endearing. "Oh you're here- I mean! I'm sorry I didn't mean to take your spot!"

Ah- you scared them. Please don't do that.

Now who did he scare and what did he do to warrant his soulmate's first words to him? Diluc has always been aware that he can be intimidating and usually he doesn't mind that. But for you- he does give half a mind.

There was a new winemaker that Connor had hired and Diluc has yet to meet them. Connor had even commented that their methods were a bit unusual. But if it's enough to get the former's approval, then Diluc will see to this newcomer.

Diluc met you during the night, just at the edges of the Stone Gate that signifies the border between Mondtsadt and Liyue. The man was simply patrolling around the area for any hidden dangers. That's when he saw you, kneeling on the ground with a group of slimes surrounding you. Seeing your plight, Diliuc quickly ran and summoned his greatsword. With a few swipes imbued with pyro, the slimes hastily retreated. He was about to chase them off, but he was more concerned of your safety.

Diluc was about to speak when you cut him off as you stood up, dusting your clothes. "Ah- you scared them. Please don't do that."

Diluc was dumbstruck for a second. He did not expect to meet his soulmate right here right now. Seeing his stupefied look, you raised a brow. "Are… you alright, Sir Diluc?"

"Those slimes were about to attack you." Diluc pointed out. His reply made you chuckle a bit and shake your head to the sides. Did he say anything funny?

"No they were not. I was trying to befriend them so that I could use their slime concentrations for the winery."

Now Diluc was even more confused. Slime? For tbe winery? "Wait- you're the new-"

"Winemaker. And your soulmate if you're not yet aware. Come on, let's go look for those slimes! We can talk on the way about our… professional and not-so professional side of our relationship." And with that, you trailed to the path of the slimes with a smile on your face. As for the wine tycoon, he was still confused- like a lost puppy, but there was this gentle smile that landed on his lips as he followed you.

Yes, I am suffering and in need of a Pyro Vision. Soulmate or not, if you don't have a Pyro Vision- shoo.

The text tattooed on Kaeya's wrist always left him laughing. He just knows, that this was meant to be a comical moment. He can even imagine the moment he meets his soulmate just from these words alone. But of course, he does worry about your well-being. Kaeya had his guesses. Maybe he would meet you in Dragonspine or maybe- you were an unprepared tourist enduring the permafrost of Snezhnaya and he'd meet you there. Well- in the end, he's still amused at your winterish pain.

Sure enough, Kaeya was tasked to scout Dragonspine for any Fatui activity. He could feel it under his skin that he'll meet you any second now. As he traversed through the mountain path, he noticed a group of warming seelies hovering over… someone? And that someone is shivering immensely. The captain grinned.

You heard footsteps approaching but you stayed in your crouched position, determined to preserve your body temperature. The seelies were helping, sure, but they were not enough to counter the coldness your Cryo Vision emanates. Damn it. Just because you're a cryo user doesn't mean you're immune to sheer cold.

The footsteps stopped and you snorted at the words the stranger spoke, "Could this possibly be my soulmate suffering in the cold and in need of a Pyro Vision?"

You huffed, you didn't want to meet your soulmate in this kind of situation. But it happened anyway, much to your dismay. Still crouched, you managed to turn to face the man as seelies continued hovering around.

"Yes, I am suffering and in need of a Pyro Vision. Soulmate or not, if you don't have a Pyro Vision- shoo."

Now actually hearing it from you made Kaeya laugh hard. If he was already amused just from the ink on his wrist before, Kaeya's now even more so deeply amused. You muttered sadist on his way. Deciding he's had enough a good laugh for today, the captain gave you his fur coat and a warming bottle. "Come on, let's get you some place warm, yes?"

You're not the only one! I actually did one for you, too!

When his mind is not occupied by hus studies, it would often drift ink embedded on his wrist. Everytime Albedo does so, he would often wonder what did the two of make for each other that would lead to you eventual meeting.

The Windblume Festival arrived, and of course, so will tourists from other lands. Usually, Albedo would simply pay no heed to the ongoing festivities and their participants. But this time- things were different. You unknowingly caught the alchemist's eye. There was this sudden itch in his hands- and Albedo knew he had to sketch you form. However, before he could even approach you- you left to another direction.

He caught sight of you again the next day. You were reading a book on a bench, with the plaza fountain giving you a beautiful background for Albedo. Discreetly, the alchemist sat on a bench front of yours and began sketching. Unbeknownst by him, you were also entranced by his form and you, too, began sketching.

Albedo was first to finish- and like usual, he would give the sketch to the person he drew of even if they were strangers. As he walked, there was this certain nervousness that found way in his stomach. This never happened before. Why was he nervous?

Once close enough, Albedo cleared his throat and handed you his sketch, "I know this seems suspicious, but I want you to have this. You have a wonderful form."

You'd be lying if you said your heart did not stop a beat at his words. When you saw the paper he was offering you, you gasped at how he caught every detail of you. Bashful, you tore the page you were drawing on from sketchbook and gave it to him.

"You're not the only one! I actually did one for you, too!"

When your words reached his ears, Archons bless you as he gave you a genuine and joyful smile.

Please... don't touch my heart that wants to disappear.

When Zhongli fully embraced his mortal form, he didn't expect the universe to gift him a soulmate. Like a snake, ink slithered into words that gave his heart a certain sadness. Zhongli knew, you were suffering somewhere... Out there...

He saw you first at the highest peak of Guyun Stone Forest. Everything happened so quickly. One second he was watching your distant form from the beaches below then the next he knew- his heart dropped, the same way you willingly fell to the hands of death that waited in the sea. The archon did what he knew is right- and that is saving you.

To Zhongli, immoratlity can both be a blessing and a curse. When your skins touched, he knew you were of immortality. He could sense it. And he could also sense the tiredness that nest in your soul from the burden of immortality.

Once Zhongli landed on safe ground, that's when he spoke. "I won't ask why, however is this truly what you want?"

The way his words reflected the ink written on your wrist made you open your eyes wide. When the realization sank in- that this man is your soulmate, you began crying. You were tired of life- but this man- this man is now your lock away from your want for death. If you stayed with him- another cycle of seeing the people you love come and go.

"Please..." you begged, "don't touch my heart that wants to disappear..."

Your voice was sad and pleading- but Zhongli was a stubborn man, just like his element. He wanted to help you but not by giving your death. He wanted you to see life in a new light, hopefully with him by your side.

Excuse me... Here- for you. Qingxin.

Xiao was always resolute in his resolve that he has no need of a soulmate deemed by the universe. However, there are times that he would let his mind flutter around the concept. Specifically, around the words elegantly written on his wrist and his soulmate. Xiao would question why would you give him qingxin flowers in the first place. Other than that, there was also this underlying worry in his thoughts about you and the qingxin flowers. These flowers... they can only be gathered on high stone peaks. What if you slipped and fall?

This leads Xiao to have days where he just spends his time at the peaks of Jueyun Karst, looking out for any foolish person scale mountains just for qingxin. It's not because he's worried about you no- Xiao just doesn't want anyone die under his protection over Liyue. There has already been too much deat-

"Excuse me..."

At the voice, Xiao's head whipped to your direction with eyes wide in surprise.

"Here- for you. Qingxin."

There was this bored look in your face, but Xiao could see the worry in your eyes. Worry? Were you worried about him? Xiao frowned at the thought but still took the flowers from your outstretched hand.

"Foolish mortal... you could have gotten yourself hurt. Climbing peaks just for qingxin..."

... But still a small smile graced his lips and your heart melted.

"Thank you."

You're the only person I recognize whose eyes resemble the deep blue ocean.

The words tattooed on his wrist always left Childe questioning about his soulmate and what led them saying these words. Somehow- imagining the possible scenarios always makes him melt. This string of words- it never fails him to bring a sense of comfort in his heart. Childe learns of yoir existance during a mission.

The mission was to assasinate a captain of the Knights- you. He observed you for days and took note how you're silent and alone for the most part but kind to the people who approach you- he almost feels bad for having to kill you. The day came when he had to kill you. It was supposed to be a quick kill- but he should know better. You were a captain for a reason, so you fought back. However, in the end, Childe was stronger as he wrap his hands around your fragile neck. Another second, he'd have you dead- until a child's voice cut through- your little brother. The way your eyes watered up at the sight of your only family. Seeing the hurt in your eyes, Childe's thoughts went overdrive- No- nonononono way I'm killing in front of a kid- He simply can't- he was reminded of his little brother, too. With a wavering will to disobey orders, Childe let you go and retreated to the night,

"Don't think this is the last time you'll see me."

Like a shattering glass- the words he uttered made your heart shatter like glass...

Childe saw you again, this time in Liyue. When your gazes meet- there was a shock that passed through with tension suddenly gripping your necks. Childe swore he hid much of his identity physically that night- but he knew you recognized him. He managed to corner you in Yuehai Pavillion by swooping into an empty seat right in front of you. There was a tense moment and an oppresive air. He noticed how your hands were ready to grab your weapon. "How did you recognize me?"

You carefully thought of your words. And when you did reply, Childe have never felt so much despair until today. "You're the only person I recognize whose eyes resemble the deep blue ocean."

Back before he knew you- these words always comforted Childe- but now? Childe felt chills in his spine as despair clouded his mind. Why would the universe decide to have person he was supposed to kill his soulmate.

Similarly, his heart also shattered.

A/N: Look!!! I got meself some banners ksks---- this is all Childe's fault rawr

[absolutepokemontrash]

MC’s Date With The Brothers Goes Terribly… Then it Starts to Rain.

Side Characters ver.

Hello my dearest degenerates, there’s nothing I love more than ridiculous crack fics, but I wanted to do some fluff, so here we go!

Lucifer

This just had to happen on Lucifer’s one day off… didn’t it? He had the entire day planned out, his brothers would be out doing their own thing, which left him and MC to have the entire day together.

The two of them would have gone to Ristorante 6, watched a movie, and simply enjoyed each other’s company. But no, Lucifer can’t have nice things.

It certainly started off that way, MC and Lucifer held hands as they made their way over to Ristorante 6, and the Avatar of Pride was reminded for the thousandth time exactly why he adored this human so much.

The human was both one of the most stress inducing parts of his life, and one of the few things that made him feel completely at peace. He would move mountains for them if they asked him too…

While Lucifer was in the middle of staring incredibly lovingly at his beloved MC, the human stopped suddenly and pointed ahead of them.

“I think Ristorante 6 may be… closed today.” “What do you mean, MC- oh.”

Apparently, two demons got into a very nasty fight inside, and one slammed the other through a wall. The restaurant was in the middle of scheduling repairs and would be closed until the hole in the wall was fixed. Lucifer developed the tiniest of tics in his right eye, but all MC had to do was squeeze his hand and give him that perfect smile of theirs… *sigh* they were right… there were other good places to eat.

Well, the cafe they wanted to go to was closed that day and they both walked over there for nothing… the second restaurant they went to was full on account of Ristorante 6 closing earlier…

Finally, the two practically trudged to Hell’s Kitchen, but Beel was there an hour earlier and cleared the entire place out…

Lucifer told MC not to fret, they’d just head to the movies and buy some snacks, sure it wasn’t the fancy dinner they planned but… at least it was food.

Oh… the movie they planned on seeing was… not running that night…

“Did you check online before we left?” “…damn.”

Their date was going decidedly terrible, MC and Lucifer were eating movie theatre popcorn outside, in outfits that were way too formal, and were rapidly becoming more and more convinced that the day was just… cursed.

Then… a crack of lightning, then it began to completely pour.

Lucifer winced the moment he heard the lightning, of course… of course it would start to rain… as the rain began to pour down on the two, he simply stared straight ahead, completely and utterly defeated.

The Morning Star, the right hand to the Crown Prince of The Devildom, The Avatar of Pride himself, was defeated by a simple thunderstorm. He took a deep breath in, prepared to shout, scream, throw a tantrum of the highest degree, then just visibly deflated. He turned to MC, who looked just as defeated and drained.

Lucifer wordlessly used his magic to put up a small shield above them, sheltering the two from the torrential downpour.

“You know,” MC mumbled, resting their head against Lucifer’s arm. “The movies make getting caught in the rain seem much more romantic…”

That comment elicited a quiet chuckle from Lucifer as he pulled MC into a hug. The two were already drenched, what did it matter if Lucifer got cheap popcorn butter all over the front of his outfit? Nothing else mattered when he was with the one person in the world who could make his heart swell with this much love and adoration.

“How about we head home, MC? I think I still have some of Barbatos’ cake hidden in the kitchen, we can enjoy that and listen to some music.”

Lucifer felt MC sigh against his front, then look up with that bright sparkling smile that never failed to make him blush.

“I’d like nothing more.”

Mammon

Okay, Mammon had this whole day planned, by the end of it, his human would be swooning! He had gotten paid big bucks from his latest modelling gigs, and he was going to treat MC to a full day with their first man.

First, they were going to spend the morning shopping, then they were going to eat lunch at this new restaurant that had just opened up, after lunch they were going to just kill time until dinner, then eat dinner at Hell’s Kitchen, then they were going to go home, get changed, then head out to The Fall, party, then head home again where MC would most definitely shower the Great Mammon with all the praise and affection he deserved!

Of course, MC would be given all the love and adoration they deserved and more! Mammon’s human was the best, and they deserved the best! The Avatar of Greed was ready!

Or so he thought. The day began with Mammon deciding that he was going to make himself and MC breakfast. It was going fine until Mammon got lost in an intense daydream and by the time he snapped out of it, Beel had eaten the pancake batter and there was no time to make anything else.

Mammon’s surprise breakfast ended up being toast and cut up fruit. It wasn’t so bad, but everyone knows that fruit is very unreliable. Sometimes it’s good… sometimes it’s squishy and unappetizing…

The morning shopping trip was ruined when Mammon went to withdraw money from his account and it turned out that the money from his shoot wasn’t in the account.

Apparently his paycheque was being held back because one of the modelling agencies was being sued.

“…MC?” “Come here, silly.”

After having his face peppered with kisses, Mammon was completely rejuvenated. His human had magic kisses, after all! They never failed to make him feel better!

The two decided that instead of a shopping spree they’d spend a couple hours of window shopping, after that when the two stopped for lunch at the new restaurant. Twenty minutes after eating there, Mammon was dry heaving over a trashcan while MC chugged a bottle of water to try and settle the awful nausea that had completely taken over. Perhaps a bad review would be necessary…

The time that was meant to be spent just wandering around the Devildom was completely ruined when those damn witches showed up! Mammon was not about to forfeit his time with MC to play servant to those three, so he grabbed his human and sprinted away.

That cat and mouse game with the witches lasted for literal hours and ended with Mammon and MC hiding behind a random alley dumpster…

Finally, Hell’s Kitchen, it turned out that they didn’t take too kindly to dine and dashers, so Mammon ended up spending the time he was supposed to be spending eating with MC waiting tables to pay off his tab.

After that, Mammon was too exhausted to even think about partying, so MC suggested that they just head home and watch some fun action movies.

The moment they began their walk home however…

A single drop of water tapped against Mammon’s sunglasses, he looked up and pointed a finger at the sky.

“No.”

Another drop of water hit the rim of his sunglasses.

“No!”

I’m a matter of seconds, it had begun to completely pour, Mammon dug his hands into his hair and shouted in frustration.

“NO! NO! NO! WHY RIGHT NOW?! Why… why right now..?” His outburst had quickly petered out into Mammon physically drooping and quietly taking off his jacket. He held it over MC so they would be spared the brunt of the rain and looked down at his now soaked shoes. “I… I’m sorry… MC…”

“Mammon, what are you sorry for?” MC said gently, lacing their fingers with his.

What kind of a question was that? Mammon had fucked up the date he had planned and made himself look like a complete idiot in front of the one person who showed him any amount of love and affection.

His heart sank as he managed to drag his gaze over to MC. They were worried about an idiot like him… maybe they’d be better off without needing to constantly babysit him…

“Today… everything… I dunno…” Mammon mumbled, MC looped their arms around him, being careful not to drop his jacket onto the wet ground.

“Are you kidding? You planned this entire nice day for the two of us,” when Mammon didn’t respond, MC took on a more firm tone. “Listen, sometimes dates don’t turn out good, that doesn’t mean you have to mope in the rain. Let’s go home, order some food, and watch a movie or some dumb show, whatever makes you happy.”

Though the constant patter of the rain made it difficult to hear, Mammon sniffled and finally returned the hug. His human really was the best.

“You’re too nice to me… ya know that?” Mammon whispered.

MC pressed a soft kiss to his lips and smiled. “Get used to it, because I don’t plan on stopping.”

Leviathan

Levi had to psyche himself up for months in order to do this… he had seen and swooned over cliche TV show dates thousands of times and now, he wanted to take MC on one.

Simply asking them was a Herculean task all on its own… Levi tried to kabedon them, and failed miserably and ended up head butting MC by accident. The Avatar of Envy could have shrivelled up and died of embarrassment right then and there, but MC let out the sweet laugh that never failed to make Levi’s heart swell. They accepted the date request.

When the day came, the two left the HOL, and Levi began his checklist of things that needed to happen to make this a perfect date. First! Dinner!

Dinner… did not pan out well to say the least. The place they had decided to go to was incredibly crowded and the two of them got seated in just the worst spot. They ended up needing to end their meal early and eat outside because Levi was getting hit with a bad case of sensory overload.

Eating outside wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for the fact that it was cold and windy as hell… Levi was cold blooded… not figuratively, but mostly literally, he did not do well in overly cold environments. He ended up cuddling closer to MC, which would have been really romantic if he hadn’t accidentally spilled their drink all over them.

Okay… that didn’t turn out good… well, after dinner they were supposed to go do some karaoke! Levi loved karaoke! He could sing something cute and sappy for MC, that was a romance staple!

And the karaoke place was closed for renovations… ugh…

Levi wanted to just go home and abandon the whole date idea, but MC looped their arm around him and pulled him away from the closed karaoke place.

“Remember the arcade we went to a few months ago? I saw it on the way here, let’s go there instead.” “Are you sure you want to keep this date with me going..?” “Positive.”

The arcade was fun until Levi spotted the DDR (Devil Dance Revolution) game that he and MC got the high score on last time. Levi wanted to see what other noobs had tried and failed to beat him and MC.

It turned out… someone beat them…

It seemed like Baphomet and Azazel made a good DDR team because they had managed to knock Levi and MC down to second place by a lot, that wasn’t all, apparently someone was salty after not getting past Levi and MC and put “are dumb” under their names!

Levi was practically frothing at the mouth when he pulled MC to the DDR machine to restore their lost honour. They… did not restore their lost honour. Levi ended up getting so upset he tried to unplug the machine, which somehow ended up permanently freezing the high scores onto the screen. It seemed that the entire Devildom would know that Baphomet and Azazel were better than Levi and MC, and that they were both dumb…

There was still one more thing Levi had planned on doing during his date with MC, he wanted to take them to a cherry blossom tree and suavely kiss them under it. Sadly, there were no cherry blossom trees in the Devildom, but there was a pretty decent substitute that was in bloom during that time of year. Levi and MC made their way to a spot where Levi knew there was a tree, and stood under it.

That was when Levi suddenly realized he had no clue how to be suave and began to stutter-spiral. MC patiently waited for Levi to properly articulate what he wanted to say, when they spotted a unicorn in the distance! MC excitedly pointed it out to Levi, who immediately went pale. Apparently Devildom unicorns are very territorial and very aggressive. They are Satan’s familiar for a reason…

Booking it from a unicorn was not how Levi wanted to end the date… it really wasn’t… but the final straw that broke the camel’s back had arrived in the form of a single raindrop. Then another… then another…

“Levi, please get out of the pond…”

“Leave me, find someone better.”

After the rain had started, Levi had taken off his jacket, handed it to MC, then proceeded to float face down in full demon form in the middle of a pond. The Avatar of Envy was so tired and embarrassed that he just wanted the pond to consume him.

“Levi,” MC tutted. “You’re going to get struck by lightning.”

“Good.”

“Leviathan!”

MC’s sudden shout caused Levi to flail in the water for a brief moment before he was able to use his tail to stabilize himself as managed to tread water.

“Get out of the pond right now! The Lord of Shadows would never abandon Henry like this!”

“The Lord of Shadows is cool, I’m not…” Levi crossed his arms and sunk ever so slightly deeper into the water.

“What the hell are you talking about?” MC asked. “Did we watch the same show? The Lord of Shadows is a huge dork, like you, now get out of the pond so we can go home and not get struck by lightning.”

Defeated by the power of friendship/love/fandom brotherhood, Levi made his way back to shore and was given a quick whack to the back of the head.

“Ow!”

“That’s for being a sulky dummy!” MC then yanked Levi forward by the front of his shirt and kissed him. Levi nearly gasped and began to fanboy right then and there in the middle of the kiss. A rain kiss! A dramatic kiss in the rain! That was one of the best tropes ever! “And that, was for trying to take me on a sweet date.”

“M-marry me…” Levi whispered before he could stop himself. MC giggled and patted one of his now bright red cheeks.

“Maybe someday.”

Satan

Going on fun spontaneous dates really wasn’t Satan’s forte, he preferred a schedule, but both he and MC had the afternoon free and Satan didn’t feel like bumming around at home when the two of them could do that any other day.

Oh-so charmingly taking his beloved MC by the hand and leading them to the nearest cat-cafe was the first thing Satan could think to do. He loves cats, he loves MC, what could possibly ruin a nice afternoon with both?

When the two reached the cafe, they were met with an employee closing the place early, claiming that all the cats had actually gotten adopted and they were waiting for more rescues to come in.

Satan couldn’t decide whether to be upset about the lack of cats, or happy that the cats got adopted into loving homes like they deserved. Satan settled on being aggressively happy.

It was no big deal, there were other things they could do together, like go to a library, or bookstore, or a museum, the possibilities were endless!

Well, it would have been endless if it wasn’t for the world conspiring to make Satan loose his cool. First, the line for his favourite book store was looped around the block because of a new book release. Inconveniencing, sure, but nothing too awful, there was a nice park nearby, the two decided to relax on one of the benches.

Problem number two arose when some idiot threw a Fangol ball a little too far and it ended up hitting Satan, then bouncing off his head and hitting the tree that the bench was under, normally, this would be rude and annoying but nothing that would activate Satan’s volcanic temper, except for the tiny issue that there was a wasp nest in that tree that decided Satan’s drink was enemy #1.

After being stung approximately eight times in the hand, Satan wasn’t doing too good, MC could tell and offered to go to the doctor’s with him. As Satan led them out of the park and towards the sidewalk he assured MC that there was nothing to worry about…

But MC, holder of Satan’s heart, went to go get him ice anyway.

The third and final thing to make Satan blow his top, the rain… the cold… depressing… rain…

“Oh…” MC mumbled as they looked up at the rain, then at Satan, whose hands were balled into fists so tight that his palms began to bleed. “Satan are you-”

Completely silent, Satan strode toward a nearby dumpster and slammed his foot into the metal, sending the entire thing into the back of the dead-end alley. The entire dumpster practically compressed and folded in on itself from the sheer force of the kick.

“Do you want to go home?” MC asked gently, taking a few steps towards him, Satan slowly nodded.

“Y-yes. I think that’d be the smart thing to do.” Satan massaged his forehead and took the ice from MC. “It seems that spontaneity isn’t our strong suit as a couple.”

MC sighed and nodded. “Yeah, we should go back to planning this stuff beforehand, and… you know,” They gestured around the two of them. “check what’s open and what the weather’s going to be before we head out.”

Only MC could soothe Satan’s temper as quickly as it flared up, and MC was getting covered with rainwater. That just wouldn’t do. He turned to MC and offered them his jacket. “I don’t want you to get cold.”

“Isn’t your line supposed to be ‘here, take this, you might catch a cold’?” MC lightly teased as they took the jacket. “Like a classic romantic lead?”

Satan shook his head and laughed softly. “No, that’s a common misconception. You can’t actually get the common cold or flu from being out in the rain. The real danger is hypothermia or frostbite.”

“Ah,” MC looped their arm around Satan’s and held his non swollen hand. “So smart, tell me more about the dangers of hypothermia.”

“Don’t tease, dearest, or I’ll take back my jacket.”

Asmodeus

Asmo had just the most stressful day… and decided that he and his sweet MC just had to go on a nice date together to fix it!

Most dates with Asmo had a sort of three act structure, first they would coordinate their outfits together for the actual date activity, then they’d do whatever they set out to do, then they’d go home and either snuggle, or do the Devil’s tango, whichever MC was feeling up for.

But on this particular day, the three act structure was being ruined. It started with the outfit coordination, somehow everything Asmo had that would match with what MC was wearing was in the laundry, he had to be convinced by MC that this wasn’t that big of a deal and the two of them would look radiant whether they matched or not.

Since that was settled, Asmo and MC made their way to Asmo’s all time favourite spa, which was not closed, no no no, it was actively on fire.

“How… how did this happen?” “Well, there were a lot of candles burning in that place, I guess we’ll just have to save the spa trip for another date.”

Everyone was fine by the way

Oh well, it would take more than a raging inferno to ruin Asmo’s date, he was determined to have a good time, so he cheerily took MC’s hand and led them away from the fire. He also casually mentioned that being so close to danger was a total turn-on.

MC very quickly ended that comment with a kiss, Asmo can’t make inappropriate sex jokes when he’s kissing his favourite person. It was truly a testament to his complete and utter adoration of MC that Asmo was willing to share the top spot of his list of favourite people with them!

While on their merry way to find something else to do, Asmo’s fan club caught wind that he and MC were on a date and decided to make their appearance. Now Asmo’s groupies are normally very sweet, but they can also be incredibly unaware of boundaries.

Everywhere Asmo and MC looked, one or two of Asmo’s fans would be half hiding and half spying on how the date was going. It was common knowledge that Asmo x MC was the OTP of the entire club, and some of the members wanted to get a peak of their ship doing something romantic.

As much as Asmo loved attention, it was getting kind of… creepy. He began to usher MC away from certain areas and tried to find a suitably nice place to get away from prying eyes.

The pair ended up in this absolutely gorgeous public garden that was thankfully quite empty. Though, all it took was one awkward step with the kind of shoes he was wearing and Asmo fell straight into a rose bush.

MC had to quickly get to work kissing Asmo’s cut up face better before he started to cry and ruined his mascara. What was even worse was that the fall messed up Asmo’s shoe and he’d have to walk back to the house like an uncoordinated baby deer.

Everything was fine… just fine… no need to worry… everything was… cloudy…

The moment the first drop of rain landed in front of Asmo he stood completely stiff and still.

“Don’t.” He growled. “I just got my hair fixed.”

The rain didn’t listen, and began pouring down, absolutely drenching Asmo and MC in a matter of minutes. MC tried to pull Asmo towards an alcove or a covered patio so they could call a cab home, but the Avatar of Lust refused to move. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, smiled serenely to himself, then looked back up to the sky and screamed with the hatred of a thousand suns:

“FUCK YOU TOO FATHER!”

It was quite a scene for MC to witness, Asmo rarely fully lost his cool, especially not enough to swear like an ‘uncouth barbarian’, combine that with his running mascara, scratched up face, and dirty clothes, he looked more like a feral movie star that was just rescued from the woods than the solid ten out of ten MC normally knew him as.

“Momo?” MC gently patted his back. “Come on, we should go home.”

Asmo finally turned to look at his sweet MC, the poor thing shouldn’t have seen him act like this… the day had gone completely horribly and he just had to drag MC into this, didn’t he? He felt his heart drop right into his gut as he practically collapsed into his human’s arms.

“Oh MC, I’m so sorry I dragged you out today… we should have just stayed home…”

“Asmo,” MC weighed their options, before settling on just rubbing his back. “There there.”

The awkward sniffling and snorting continued for the next couple of minutes while MC called a ride service to come pick the two of them up.

“Thank you, MC,” Asmo sniffled. “You’re the sweetest thing in the universe…”

“You’re sweet too, Asmo. It’s a shame today didn’t work out.”

“Mhm…”

“We can still save this date, you know? When we get back home we can take a bath and snuggle.”

“That…” Asmo sniffed. “That sounds really nice, MC.”

“Anytime spent with you is nice, Asmo.” MC then rolled their eyes while Asmo giggled. “Man that was corny…”

Beelzebub

Beel had come back from one hell of a Fangol game, and he was in an amazing mood! He wanted to take MC out to celebrate!

Between-meal snacks were packed, and they set off to the carnival. Nothing could beat the nice smell of fried dough, Carmel apples, popcorn, and spending time with MC.

Of course, the food wasn’t the only thing Beel wanted to enjoy with MC, there were rides and games to try while they enjoyed their snacks. First they made their way to the teacup ride.

In theory, having big strong Beel to spin the big wheel in the middle to make the teacup move would be a good thing, but even though it was the first ride, MC had eaten quite a lot of carnival snacks.

Beel only had to spin the centre disc once for the disc to both break and make the teacup to whirl around at a speed that practically threw them into Beel’s side. MC then… well… vomited. Everywhere.

Since Beel accidentally ripped the centre disc off, he couldn’t slow the teacup down manually to stop the puke-tornado, so it took a little while before the ride operator realized that something was wrong and stopped the ride.

The walk off the ride was both embarrassing and completely nauseating, MC needed to stumble to the nearest trashcan and hurl. Beel did his best to comfort his poor human and mumbled quite a lot of apologies.

“I’m sorry MC…” “Beel, it’s okay… I’d uh, kiss you but the… vomit.”

Both Beel and MC decreed that maybe rides weren’t the best idea after that, and went over to check out the carnival games.

After a few unsuccessful tries at a few games, a plushie caught MC’s eye and they were absolutely smitten with it. Beel vowed to win it for them, and lined himself up to try the pitching game.

Well, something good came out of that… Beel threw so fast it may have broken a record, the bad thing was that the ball tore through the tent and caused the whole thing to collapse.

The tent then caught fire after landing on some of the candles that were set up… the plushie went up in flames…

Beel turned to MC, who wordlessly patted him on the back. At… at least they still had their snacks…

As Beel and MC made their way to the exit, a group of kids rushed past the pair, Beel, not wanting to step on or bump into any of them, awkwardly wobbled, then fell and dropped all of his emergency snacks.

And then came the rain…

“Oh…” Beel mumbled as he stared down his spilled food, MC quickly wrapped their arms around him, looking up at him with a half-hearted smile.

“We can buy some more, or wait until we get home, it’s okay, Beel.”

The Avatar of Gluttony slowly nodded, tearing his gaze away from the wasted snacks. Thunder sounded above the two and the cold rain began to beat against them.

When Beel looked down at MC, he felt his heart flutter in his chest, they weren’t upset at him, they weren’t angry… they just wanted to make him feel better… Beel nodded resolutely to himself, he was going to make MC feel better too! He picked MC up bridal-style and began to walk away from the rapidly emptying carnival.

“B-Beel?” MC sputtered.

“Let’s go home, MC, I have cookies hidden in one of the cabinets that we can share.”

MC looked up at their sweet cinnamon roll, then buried their face in his chest. Their shoulders shook slightly as they looped their arms around Beel’s neck.

“M-MC?” Beel asked, he tried to shift MC in his arms to see if they were crying, but MC looked up at him with a sweet smile.

“You’re just the best, Beel. Never forget that.”

Belphegor

The Avatar of Sloth doesn’t exactly “do” traditional dates, but even he could tell that MC wanted to do something a little more exciting than “lay in bed and make out until Belphie falls asleep”.

Since Belphie is a totally wonderful brat boyfriend, he decided to take MC out to the best possible place in the human world for some stargazing… and napping.

He even put together a picnic basket so he and MC could eat while watching the sunset before the stars came out!

The favourite blanket was packed, the picnic basket was ready, and Lucifer gave the two permission to visit the human world for the evening. Belphie took a mental note to avoid doing any pranks for a week as a thank-you to his older brother.

Well, the first problem came when the two spread out the blanket and opened up the basket to find… nothing. Belphie immediately thought that Beel must have eaten their food, but then the memory of the food clearly sitting in the fridge entered his mind. He had forgotten to put the food in the basket… and he was too lazy to check why the basket was so light…

Oh well… no big deal, MC had a big lunch. The second problem came in the form of a swarm of mosquitoes. Gross, bloodsucking mosquitos.

“MC?” “Yeah?” “Did you happen to pack bug spray before I took you out on this surprise picnic?” “No…”

Belphie’s solution was to use his tail to bat the bugs away, but that proved to be quite useless. It didn’t help that while both MC and Belphie were being eaten alive, Belphie would end up accidentally thwacking MC with his tail.

Well, at least the sunset was nice, or it would have been if Belphie hadn’t slept through it by accident.

It was classic Belphie to manage to sleep through anything interesting, and apparently he also missed out on a shooting star which soured his mood even more.

The only little bright spot of the date so far was that MC did say that they wished for something for him on that shooting star… hopefully wish magic might salvage the date…

After being awoken by MC to look up at the sky, the two realized that something was… missing. Where were the stars?

MC and Belphie were laying on their backs facing the clouded over sky when they both had the dawning realization of what was to come.

Rain.

Of course… mosquitoes are extra active and crazy before a storm… that’s why they were coming at them…

Belphie let out a dejected sigh as the first raindrop of many hit the tip of his nose. MC scratched at their arms and began to pack up the blanket into the empty picnic basket. At least the blanket wouldn’t get too wet.

Well, he fucked this up royally. The Avatar of Sloth almost never put any actual work into something that didn’t benefit himself, but MC had managed to make themselves the exception. He wanted to make them happy, he wanted to see that cute little face they made when he’d crack a joke or make a quip about something, but now, lying flat on his back staring up at a coming rainstorm, Belphie had come to the crippling realization that all his work went to waste.

“You know, MC, the outdoors is going to lose my patronage.” Belphie murmured, blinking a few raindrops out of his eyes as the rain began to patter down with more ferocity. “I think the two of us should stick to indoor dates.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” MC sighed as they used the picnic basket as a makeshift umbrella.

“I’m um…” Belphie began, guilt twisting in his gut. “I’m sorry this turned out so shitty.”

“It’s okay, Belphie.” MC pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “If by some miracle the food that was supposed to be in the fridge hasn’t gotten eaten by the time we get back home, we’ll eat a late dinner, cuddle, and then sleep till noon.”

[angelamajiki]

PARINGS: Pro Hero! Dabi x Sister! Reader

TW: yandere, incest, no con, voyeurism, choking, burning, unprotected/no prep sex, breeding/creampies, snowballing, public sex, degradation, lots of dirty talk

AN: WHEEWW my first fic in a while, so excited for my first join intro collab!! thank you to the lovely jo for writing it <33 enjoy

A BNHarem Server Collab! Check out the other works here.

Breaking news: We have yet another report to add to the slew of attacks this month, this comes just days after we broadcast rumours of villains running rampant over the city. This spate of attacks has put the entire metropolitan area at a standstill, road closures and damaged property making it difficult for commuters to get to work in the morning. Road maintenance endeavour to do its best to keep the city running, but it seems futile when these attacks continue to increase. The entire city was brought to a standstill by the mysterious villain who has still not been named, but reports show they are nothing like we have ever experienced before.

Where are the heroes now? Who will save us from the terror overwhelming our city?

Every day the crime toll continues to rise and we have no one here to protect us. The Hero Public Safety Commission assured us earlier in the week that the crime rate would go down, that the top Heroes are out there protecting our city, but if so, where are they? Is it really safe to go out anymore, who can we trust? Would you put your life in the hands of a Hero today? When they have proved our streets are no longer safe. We still have no information on what is going on, or who is involved but we must remain observant. We will continue to report the latest news as we receive it, but for now, we must implore you to heed the warnings of the city-wide curfew that is soon to be implemented. If anyone has any information on these occurrences in the city please send them to us or contact the police, you can remain anonymous. The safety of our citizens is what is most important, stay vigilant and don’t go out unless it is absolutely necessary.

Christ, what a load of bullshit the news was nowadays. Constantly whining and squealing about what heroes did and didn’t do, promoting fear-mongering like it was the hottest trend. Between your father and two older brothers dedicating their life to the cause of justice, the world always felt just a little safer to you, the naive little thing that you were. And tonight was no exception.

Despite the rapidly increasing crime rates, your judgment to grab a couple of drinks in the city with your friends was hardly swayed. The stress of it all was getting to you and you’d love nothing more to drink your heart out at one of the few spots still left open. It was a sleazy place, but it was fun. If anything, you found a bar in the area where your eldest brother was currently stationed patrolling.

Touya had always been protective of you ever since the two of you were children, and he carried that same possessiveness well into your adulthood. Always chasing off any potential suitors, keeping you out of trouble, and generally being a menace to anyone who thought they were good enough to be around his favorite little sister.

By the end of the night, stumbling around drunkenly was the only thing keeping you upright as you made your way out of the club and onto the street, looking for a taxi to get you home. Sirens wailed faintly in the distance, a mess of blue and red lighting up the darkened streets.

“Hey sweetheart. Need a hand?”

Grubby hands met your arms the same time the cool air of the night did, tugging and pulling at you to come closer, wherever that may be. Jaunts and laughter echoed off the buildings, only adding to the haziness the alcohol induced. “What’s a pretty little thing like yourself doing out here all on your lonesome?”

Weak attempts to push the group of assaulters off you were in vain as they groped and squeezed your body at their pleasure. “Come on, we’re just trying to keep ya company. Right, boys?”

“Stop..”

Your whine came across much more pathetic than you could have ever hoped, only earning more chuckles from the men. “Just relax, sweetheart. We’ll take good care of you.”

Blue flames danced around the group of you, closing the lot of you against the building wall in a small circle of fire.

“Will you now? Last I checked, I'm the only man suited for that.” Touya was less than amused to have found out from Fuyumi that you traveled into the city given its state, even more so when he saw how drunk and disorderly you were being.

“T-Touya-nii!”

The men untangled themselves from you with ease, tossing you into the arms of your expectant brother, who was more than glad to pull you into a tight embrace. “Shit! It's the number three, Heatstroke!”

The comforting warmth of his body and scent of his cologne settled your frantic nerves, tucking yourself closer into his arms. “Honestly, it’s like you're asking for it at this point.”

Your heart sank low in your chest, but you couldn't find the strength to move away from him as he scowled down at you.

“Look at what you're wearing, you little tease. Bet you would have loved to have them violate you, huh slut?”

Never has Touya been so venomous with you before; it made your heart hurt, even more, to see your beloved nii-san be so cruel.

“Don’t you worry, that’s why your big brother is here to show you who you really belong to.”

Shoved against the wall, he pinned your trembling form with his right knee in between your legs and his hands wandering over your skimpy dress.

“You boys can stick around to watch; let a real man show you how it's done.”

Flames singed at your dress, burning it to ashes to expose you in the cool wind of the night. Hot fingers pressed into your skin, littering marks in their wake before they wrapped around your throat. “You were just begging for nii-san to come to save your slutty ass, huh, princess? I know you checked my patrol schedule before ending up at this dive.”

His hand tightened around your neck, his lips at your ear. “Wanted nii-san to come put you in your place, yeah? After fuckin’ teasing me all these years, you finally cracked me. Are you proud of yourself, little girl?”

A whine slipped from your constricted throat, your smaller hand gripping at the large one squeezing you with everything it had. “And now you've got an audience to witness my ownership over you. You're mine, little girl.”

Finally releasing your throat, his hands traveled down to your chest and groped at your roughly, pinching and pulling at your soft, sensitive nipples. Bile was rising in your throat as you drowned in your own fear, feeling him drag you into the depths of depravity.

“What’s the matter, imouto? I thought you said I was your favorite. You're hurting my feelings, y’know.”

“Touya, please-”

A scoff slapped you hard in the face as his knee jerked up against your cunt. “Don’t start with me. I know who you really are and what you really want, even better than yourself.”

His words stabbed at your heart, and his wandering hands only seemed to pour salt over the wounds. “You’re nothing more than my whore, little sister.”

Hips ground against your backside in a slow, teasing manner, groans pushing past his lips as he did so. “You have no one to blame but yourself.”

His erection was pressed flush against you, straining in his pants before he unzipped himself. At this point, you were more than sobered up running on fear and adrenaline alone. Your panties were ripped clean off with his free hand while the other stroked his hardening cock. “Look at me.”

The tip was aligned with your hole, rubbing slightly to gather the minimal wetness between your lips. “I said look at me.”

Teary eyes peaked up at him through wet lashes, silently pleading with a man who was not known for mercy.

“Good fuckin’ girl, so obedient for your big brother.”

With one snap of his hips, Touya fully sheathed himself inside of your tight cunt, groaning at the way you squealed for him. “Aw, you like that, huh, princess. Feeling good?”

A warbled moan was the only response you could give him as he slowly began to pull out. The alcohol had you buzzing enough to block out the pain of the stretch, and damn did you feel filled to the brim.

“Can’t wait to breed this greedy little cunt of yours.”

His pace was slow, agonizingly so. Touya couldn't help but savor every second of the first time having been inside you, especially after dreaming about it for so long. God, if it didn't turn him on to have an audience, knowing that these men knew he was fucking his sister.

What would the media think? God, the news cycle would be ripped to shreds tomorrow over this breaking story. But hey, no PR is bad PR.

The thought of finally having staked his claim in you almost had him coming prematurely, but he had to hold out for your very first time together, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

Heh, your crying face was so cute. Those tears weren't shy by any means and neither were your sobs. It's alright, you’ll learn to love being Touya’s cocksleeve.

“Say you love me.”

An impossible request when you're being violated by the person you held dearest to your heart.

His pace had picked up brutally, slamming into you without care for his flames spreading wildly nor the group of assaulters who seemed to vanish once they had the opening to.

“I-I love you, nii-san! I love you!”

Your cries were shrill and whiny, echoing into the chaotic night. The grip on your hips was heating up, so much so that his handprints were burned into your love handles.

“Good girl, good little slut.”

His breathing was erratic, hot against your neck as he growled and grunted into your ear. “Gonna let nii-san breed this pretty little pussy? Yes, you are. I know you are because you're fuckin’ mine, bitch.”

Moaning out your name, Touya came deep inside your womb, thick ropes of his cum painting your insides. You were soon to follow thanks to his thumb against your clit, causing you to writhe and whine in his arms.

Utterly spent, you rested against the brick wall you were pinned to, feeling the cum drip out of your still filled hole.

“Let’s get you home and into my bed, princess. I gotta go have a chat with Dad and Shouto, let ‘em know you’re fully off limits now.”

— tagging: @libiraki @bonesoftheimpala @tomurasprincess @sightoru

[tchallasbabymama]

Don't Forget About Us

Hello, my lovelies. Here’s my contribution to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes smut challenge (the prompt is in bold!) Let’s see what Erik’s up to now, shall we?

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me, so make sure to let me know what you think! And let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my writing. Enjoy😘

Word count: 5,595

CW: smut...duh.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

Kayla sighed internally at the question and took a sip of her Pinot Grigio. She hated first dates with a burning passion, but unfortunately, that was the only way to find a man around here. She went through the motions of politely answering his questions, barely asking any of her own. She didn’t care. Even just fifteen minutes in, Kayla could tell he didn’t excite her, and she lamented the waste of a good outfit as she listened to him drone on about his life. Every now and then, he’d stop and ask a question about her, but she could tell he was only asking so he could talk more about himself.

How many siblings do you have?

What’s your sign?

Why did your last relationship end?

Her mind traveled to her ex-boyfriend, Erik Stevens. They had spent six blissful years together, and Kayla thought he was the one. She wanted them to get married and start a family, and she thought he did, too, but every time she brought it up, he’d find some excuse to change the subject. At thirty years old, Kayla wasn’t getting any younger, so she grew tired of his avoidance and eventually cut him loose. She needed more out of life, but the guy currently sitting across from her certainly wasn’t it.

“We wanted different things,” she answered vaguely and took another sip. It would be a long night with what’s-his-name. David? Devon? Whatever. At least he had money and took her to a nice restaurant.

Darryl took the opportunity to bore her with the details of his job, which Kayla already knew. He was a colleague of her best friend, Carina’s husband. They worked at the same law firm, and Carina decided to hook them up after tiring of hearing Kayla complain about dating apps. As much as Kayla hated Tinder, she would’ve much rather been at home on her couch swiping left on the cesspool of single men Oakland had to offer. Every few dozen swipes or so, she’d find a cutie, but his bio would be abysmal, or his conversation skills would fall flat.

Despite the fact that their relationship just couldn’t make it, Kayla still thought of Erik as the gold standard. Just thinking about his dimples and his struggle beard made her smile dreamily. His big, strong arms would wrap around her and hold her tight at night, and she’d trace her fingers over the intentionally placed keloid scars that held his darkest secrets. She missed retwisting his locs and the way he always smelled like sandalwood and warm vanilla. Kayla didn’t want to admit it, but she still loved him. No man could compare to her Erik.

“Hello? Kayla?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Can you repeat that last part?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What’s got you so distracted, babygirl?”

Kayla fought the bile rising in her throat. She wasn’t his babygirl. It didn’t even sound right coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the thinness of his lips. They weren’t “white man” thin, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the juicy pussy pleasers she had grown accustomed to.

“Nothing, just thought I saw somebody I know. You were saying?”

“Just that you look beautiful tonight,” Damon attempted to flirt with her.

Kayla wanted to roll her eyes but thanked him instead and smiled politely again. Of course she looked beautiful; she had pulled out all the stops for what she had hoped would be a good night out. Kayla had squeezed her thickness into a lavender satin dress. The way the dress’s skirt cinched on the side kept it snug around her plush waist, but the high slit that traveled up her thigh was the main attraction. The strappy silver heels on her feet showed off her matching pedicure that contrasted beautifully with her glistening brown skin, and her makeup was flawless. Her outerwear for the night, a cropped fur jacket that had found its way to the coat check when they arrived, was the icing on the cake. Her outfit deserved the appreciation, just not from Deshawn.

The waiter saved her from having to focus on her date when she brought out the food they had ordered. Since Kayla knew Derek had money, she had ordered the whole lobster, and she fought her mouth from drooling too much as the waiter set it down in front of her. It laid on a bed of forbidden rice, and the side of roasted brussels sprouts and cremini mushrooms looked heavenly. The ramekin of drawn butter off to the side tempted her as it sat next to the minuscule seafood fork. She may not enjoy her company for the evening, but Kayla damn sure was going to enjoy her meal.

“Looks good,” Dominic called from the other side of the table, breaking Kayla from her trance as he cut into his wagyu beef.

“Sure does.” Kayla wasted no time before digging into her meal. Not only was it the perfect excuse to avoid conversation, but it was perfect, period.

A slight chill permeated the air as the door swung open and the crisp January air entered the small restaurant. Kayla shivered as she complained internally about being forced to sit near the door, but that shiver intensified as she heard a voice. His voice.

“Reservation for Stevens, please.”

Kayla stilled.

“Of course. Right this way, sir,” the maitre d’ responded, and Kayla heard three sets of footsteps coming her way.

--------

“Babe, let’s go!”

“Yell at me one more time, woman,” Erik warned as he came around the corner into the living room, fastening his watch.

“I swear, you take more time getting ready than I do.”

“Whatever, Mo. You ready?”

“Nigga, I been ready!”

Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys. It would be a rough night, and things were already starting off on a bad foot. He and Monique had been seeing each other for the better part of a year, and he’d finally reached his limit. She was overbearing, rude, and just after him for his money, but he hated being alone, so he put up with her bullshit. His cousin, T’Challa, had tried to hook him up with a few ladies back in Wakanda when he went to visit after his breakup, but nothing stuck. Almost immediately after coming back to the states, Erik met Monique at a charity event for the Outreach Center. She had the singing voice of an angel and had been booked as the entertainment for the evening. Erik was drawn to her like a sailor to a siren, and she immediately sank her teeth into him. Past her vocal talents, Monique wasn’t really anything special. Her personality left a lot to be desired, she wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, and she just wasn’t her.

The moment Kayla ended their relationship a year ago, Erik’s whole world shattered. He had lived a life full of pain and loss, but Kayla had been his lifeline. She pulled him out of the dark and made him revel in the sunshine. Hell, she was the sunshine, but now he had settled for a UV lamp at best. Kayla had wanted a life that Erik was too scared to give her, but that fear became his downfall. He still missed her most nights. He was lonely, and Monique was there to keep him company, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Erik craved a connection that Monique just couldn’t provide. So he decided he had to break it off and figured that doing so in a public place would probably be best. She had a tendency to throw things when she got angry.

The car ride to Chez Martine was tense. Monique had been angry all day because Erik had taken back his credit card even though she wanted to buy a new dress for their date. Her lousy mood almost made him dump her back at his condo, but Erik kept a cool head and stayed focused on the plan. He ignored the way Monique complained the entire time she got ready, reluctantly putting on a dress he had seen her wear before. It didn’t matter to him; he knew what the night held.

When they walked into the restaurant, Erik’s heart dropped into his stomach. He’d recognize that shoulder blade tattoo anywhere. She had cut off all her hair and lost a few pounds, but he knew for sure that he was looking at Kayla. His Kayla. He forced himself to look straight ahead as they passed her table and prayed that the maitre d’ didn’t sit them where she could see him. Unfortunately, he had no such luck because the only open table for two was directly within her line of sight. He prayed again that Monique would sit on the far side of the table, but Bast ignored his pleas once more. He had to sit facing her, and as soon as he got comfortable in his chair, her gaze slyly trailed over to him. They locked eyes across the room, and Erik’s heart stopped. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her all those months ago, but who the fuck was that sitting across from her?

“What are you looking at?” Monique’s abrasive voice cut through his eardrums.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I know, that’s all.”

She cut her eyes at him and turned around to look as he buried his face in the menu.

“Quit being nosy,” he complained.

“I just wanna see who’s got your attention, that’s all.” Monique turned back around with a sour look on her face. “It’s probably that fat girl with her cleavage all out.”

“Mo, just look at the fucking menu and act like you got some sense.”

“Fine.”

Monique pouted until the waiter showed up, but she plastered a fake smile on her face as he took their order. As usual, she ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and it bothered him to no end that she was hellbent on spending all of his money. Of course, he had plenty, but she felt entitled to it. Kayla never cared about him being rich. Hell, when they got together, she didn’t even know he was a prince, but he loved to spoil her nonetheless. He loved the look on her face when he’d buy her things or take her on the expensive trips that she more than deserved. Kayla appreciated everything he did for her with all her heart, but she’d say the same thing every time.

“Thank you, baby, but you’re all I need.”

Erik smiled fondly at the memory of when he bought her a diamond tennis bracelet from Wakanda for their second anniversary. She was so excited to have diamonds that weren’t marred by exploited labor that she damn near dropped the box when she saw what was inside. It had been a rough year for them, what with him disappearing for a couple of months to seize the Wakandan throne and all. She certainly had plenty of colorful words for him when he came back. He’ll never forget the look on her face when he showed up at her door. He had brought T’Challa for backup just in case, but she looked right past the king as tears welled up in her eyes at seeing her Erik, alive and well.

Erik’s eyes started to get misty as he thought about the way she kissed him with so much emotion...then slapped him across the face for leaving. His gaze wandered back over to Kayla and he noticed the light bounce off of something on her arm. She was wearing the bracelet.

As if she felt his glare, Kayla shifted uncomfortably in her seat, so he averted his eyes back to Monique, who had caught him staring again.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” she asked sarcastically, making him roll his eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

--------

Erik Stevens. Here, of all places. He just had to be here.

Kayla noticed that he didn’t seem to be enjoying his modelesque date’s company any more than she was enjoying Darwin’s, and the pang of jealousy she felt at seeing him with another woman went away. She knew she had no right to feel any kind of way about it, especially since she was the one that broke things off. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

Dylan was too wrapped up in his steak to notice her wandering eye, but it seemed that Erik’s food was as uninteresting as the woman across from him. Kayla watched as he half-heartedly pushed it around his plate, but he certainly kept his favorite whiskey coming. She wanted to chuckle but didn’t want Daniel to think he had anything to do with her levity. They were both drowning their dissatisfactions in their alcohols of choice, and Kayla got a phantom taste of Uncle Nearest 1856 on her lips as she watched him take a sip. When he set the glass down and licked his lips, Kayla felt flush. She missed those lips…

“So, how about dessert?” Damien asked as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. “I hear their creme brulee is amazing.”

“Uh, sure, why not?”

“You know,” he began as he leaned in and reached for her hands. She allowed him to take them, but the softness of his hands disgusted her. No callouses, no roughness, not even a firm grip. “I’ve had a great night. I’d love to see you again.”

Kayla chuckled nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you doing next-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

A shrill voice pierced the air as Erik’s date bolted up from her seat. Desmond, and the whole restaurant, turned around to see what was going on, and Kayla took the opportunity to remove her hands from his.

“Keep your voice down,” Erik sneered through his teeth. “We’re in public.”

“So?! You bring me out here just to dump me? To dump this?!” she gestured at her slim figure, and he rolled his eyes.

“You ain’t even all that,” he waved her off. He was tired of playing nice, and Kayla could see the exasperation written all over his face.

“Excuse me, miss-” the waiter attempted to calm her down, but the crazed woman cut him off.

“Stay out of this!”

“I’m so sorry,” Erik mouthed to the poor man who would absolutely be getting a monstrous tip later.

“Oh, you’re sorry for him, but not for me?”

“Mo, just sit down. We can finish our meal like adults-”

“Fuck you, Erik.” She threw her dirty martini at him, soaking the front of his all-black ensemble.

Kayla could damn near see the steam coming out of his ears as his apparent ex stormed out of the restaurant. Erik locked eyes with her across the room, and when he saw the concern written all over her face, his softened.

“Whew, poor fella,” Dexter commented as he turned back around. “Where was I? Oh-”

“Excuse me, where’s your restroom?” Kayla interrupted him as their waiter walked by.

“Right down there.” She pointed at a set of stairs off to the side, and Kayla thanked her as she slid out of her seat.

“I’ll be back, Darius.”

“It’s Denzel.” He deflated.

“Fuck,” she froze. She had been sure it was Darius. “Still, I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” he responded, obviously upset by her slip-up.

Kayla hurried off down the stairs and leaned against the wall as she waited for either of the single-use restrooms to open up. She took a deep breath and opened her clutch, reaching in to pull out her phone with a shaky hand and typing in his number. It was one of the few she had memorized, just in case.

“You ok?”

Her thumb hovered over the send button, but she couldn’t press it. Her heart nearly thumped out of her chest at the thought of starting a conversation with him, but something within her said that she should. It would be weird not to say anything after all that, right?

“Hey-”

“Shit!” Kayla dropped her phone when his silky baritone graced her ears.

“My fault, ma.” Erik leaned over and picked the phone off the floor, checking it for cracks. He saw she had typed a message out to him and smirked before handing it back to her.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem. And, yeah, I’m ok.”

“Huh?”

Erik pointed at her phone screen.

“Oh! Right. Um, well, that’s good to hear.” Kayla attempted to push her hair behind her ear out of habit, forgetting she had just cut it all off a week ago.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ok? You don’t seem to into ole dude out there.”

Kayla sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh, him.”

“Damn, it’s like that?” Erik laughed, and she slapped his arm. That slight contact was enough to spark a flame in them both, and Erik’s face turned serious. “For real, though, not going well?”

“Better than you, it seems,” she quipped as she eyed his wet shirt. That was a bad idea because his first three buttons were undone, and she caught a peek of the raised scars that she missed so much. And that broad chest, and the chain with his father’s ring that he always wore. He’d let her wear it from time to time, and she always felt like it was such an honor. He trusted her enough to let her wear it. He loved her enough to-

Kayla pried her eyes away and made yet another mistake: she looked up at him. Those eyes still looked like sweet, sweet molasses, and even though his locs were braided back, she could tell he was letting them grow out. She momentarily wondered who was retwisting them nowadays, but her train of thought was cut short by the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. Kayla’s mind went blank as she inhaled slowly.

“Heh, yeah. That was...that was pretty embarrassing. Not even gonna lie.” Erik looked away shyly, unable to hold her gaze.

“I guess you’ll need to find a new date spot, huh?”

“Nah, I think I’m good on dating for a while.”

“Same,” Kayla sighed. “Dating sucks.”

“Yeah…”

One of the bathroom doors unlocked, and a middle-aged white man stepped out and passed them on the way up the stairs.

“Well, I should-”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Kayla walked towards the bathroom, but before she could reach the door, she felt a light tug on her wrist. His touch still gave her goosebumps, and he noticed her raised skin as she turned to face him.

“I just, uh...it was nice seeing you, Kay-kay.” Erik smiled at her, and she nearly melted. She missed when he called her that, too. “You look good.”

“Thanks, E.” She smiled back. “So do you.”

He let her go, and Kayla disappeared into the bathroom. When she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath to center herself. After all these months, Erik still took her breath away. He clouded her senses and scrambled her mind. Even as she took care of business, her brain replayed their short interaction on a loop.

Kayla locked eyes with her reflection as she dried her hands. How could she go back up there to- what’s his name? Oh, yeah, Da- Denzel. That’s it, Denzel. How could she go back up there to his mediocre company when the man she still loved had made her feel so alive with just one touch. That was the magic of Erik, his magnetism. When they were together, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him, even when she wanted to slap him across his beautiful face. Those were some of the best times, though. If she was angry at him, he knew exactly what to do to calm her down. To put her in her place. To remind her-

Kayla’s daydreaming was cut short by a knock at the door.

“Occupied!”

It came again.

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

She reached for another paper towel to dab off the sweat that had started to pool on her skin at the thought of Erik’s dominance when the door opened.

“What the f- Erik?!”

He pushed inside the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You need to start locking doors, Kay.”

“I- what do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” he spoke as he moved closer to her.

“Here?!”

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled.

Kayla rolled her eyes and tried to push past him.

“Now is not the time or place-”

“When is?” he blocked her exit, and she crossed her arms in defeat, looking up at him through her lashes as she leaned against the sink. “Look, I just need to say something real quick.”

“Fine,” Kayla sighed and gestured for him to continue. She knew there was no use fighting him. She wasn’t leaving that bathroom until he was good and ready.

“Kay,” his voice softened, and she looked away only to have her face pulled back in his direction. “Kay-kay, look at me.”

She made the mistake of doing just that, getting lost in his eyes again.

“I miss you,” Erik murmured.

“Erik-”

“Look, I know, ok? I know. And I’m sorry, Kay. I really am- no, look at me. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you...but I miss you, girl.”

Kayla’s eyes welled up with tears that she tried her hardest to blink away, but one had the nerve to fall. Erik wiped it away, and the next one, and the next one. A sob wracked Kayla’s body, and he wrapped his arms around her body.

“Don’t cry, babygirl. I know you worked hard on your makeup.”

Kayla laughed through her tears, but the emotions washed back over her, and she buried her face into his chest. It was already soaked with gin, so what harm would a few tears do?

He held her and rocked her softly from side to side as she cried, and after a couple of minutes, she found the will to look up at him again. His cheeks were wet, so she reached up and swiped her thumbs over them as she held his face in her small hands. He nuzzled into them and kissed her wrists.

“I miss you, too, E,” she croaked.

“I know, babygirl.”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes as his soft lips caressed her skin. They stayed intertwined for who knows how long until Erik felt Kayla begin to pull back. He looked down at her, and the two of them locked eyes. Before they knew it, their lips had met in the middle in a passionate embrace. They got lost in each other for a moment until common sense returned to Kayla, and she pushed him off.

“We can’t-”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because what, Kay?” Erik’s voice rumbled as he closed what little gap was between their bodies. He left soft kisses on her temples before working down to her cheeks, then her jawline, and eventually the column of her neck. She let out a soft whimper when his teeth grazed the crook of her neck but pushed him back again before he could continue any further.

“Erik, I...I still love you, and-”

He attacked her lips with his, hands feverishly gripping her waist as he pushed her further into the sink. She had nowhere to go, and she was ok with that.

“I...love you...too...babygirl,” he whispered between kisses.

Kayla’s mind went blank as he lifted her up on the counter and pressed himself between her legs. She could feel him, all of him, and damn did she miss that monster between his legs.

“Erik,” she moaned as he nipped at her earlobe. He still knew how to play her body like a violin.

“Mmm, say it again.”

“Erik!” she squeaked as she felt his strong hands grip her thighs.

“Just like that,” he groaned, and she flooded her already wet panties.

“Baby-”

He connected his forehead to hers and stared deep into her eyes. “You miss me?”

“Mhm,” Kayla nodded with her lip between her teeth.

“I miss you, too, baby. I think about you all the time. Every day,” he pecked her lips, “every night. I miss everything about you, Kay-kay. Your off-key singing, your horrible cooking-”

“Shut up,” Kayla giggled as his hands traveled up her dress.

“Your body…fuck I miss this body. I miss how you smell, how you taste...how that tight little pussy feels wrapped around my dick.”

Kayla widened her legs for him as his fingers found their way to the seat of her panties, stroking up and down her slit. Erik kissed his way back down her face and over to her ear, his warm breath sending chills down her spine.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself? Because I do. You’re all I see when I stroke my dick...wishing it was your hand...your lips...this fucking pussy.”

Erik pushed her panties to the side, and his nimble fingers circled her clit. Kayla let out a small moan that was music to his ears, making fingers move faster and her breath grow shallower with each rotation.

“Answer me.”

“Mhm.”

“Come on, babygirl, you can do better than that. You think about me when you play in your pussy? This pussy right here?” he asked as he slapped her vulva, her wetness sticking to his hand.

“Y-yes, baby-”

“Uh-uh, you know who I am. Say it,” Erik commanded as he snuck three fingers inside her wetness, making her moan loudly in his ear. “Shhh, you gotta be quiet, babygirl. You don’t want people out there knowing how much of a slut you are, right?”

Kayla shook her head no.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I asked you a question, Kayla,” he reminded her. His gruff voice made her weak, and the fingers that were steadily speeding up inside her certainly didn’t help. “Answer me. Who am I, babygirl?”

Kayla tried to hold out as much as she could. She didn’t want to say it, too proud to give in, but the way he was currently stretching out her pussy and curling his fingers inside her made her cling to his shoulders. The bastard knew what he was doing, and she didn’t want to let him win. But then, he played dirty and bit down on her neck. She cried out, and when he pulled back to look at her, the ferocity in his eyes drove her up the wall.

“I said, who the fuck am I, Kayla?” Erik growled. His hand sped up, making her weak with every thrust. She couldn’t hold it anymore and came undone around him, her mouth betraying her as his name fell from her lips.

“Daddy!” she gasped as her pussy spasmed, and he chuckled darkly.

“Damn right I am,” he kissed her lips, “now gimme that pussy. Daddy missed his pussy.”

Kayla heard a rip and felt the cool air between her legs as he tore through her panties to get to her treasure trove. She reached down between them and grabbed his clothed erection in her hand, making him groan as he bit down on his luscious bottom lip. She undid his belt buckle and slowly unzipped his pants before reaching in and pulling out his throbbing dick.

The longing in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, so he pushed her legs back and tapped his head on her clit.

“You want daddy’s dick in you?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered.

“Good.”

He pushed in and groaned at the feeling of her pussy walls gripping him as he sheathed himself inside her.

“Fuck, you feel like home.”

Kayla moaned into his neck in response and wound her hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he stroked into her slow and deep. She couldn’t form words. He felt so damn good inside her that Kayla’s brain had short-circuited. Erik’s dick hit spots that she could never find herself no matter how hard she tried. Even in her dreams, he drove her body wild. She had spent the last year trying to find somebody, anybody who could make her feel that way, but nobody could compare to Erik Stevens.

Erik and Kayla panted heavily into each others’ mouths as he made love to her body, and as soon as Kayla started to tense up, his thrusts grew harder.

“I-I-”

“I know, babygirl. Daddy feels it,” he groaned as he nipped at her bottom lip. “Cum on my dick like a good girl.”

His words sent Kayla into overdrive, and her body shook as she spilled over him. Her spasming walls hugged him tight, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, begging him with her eyes.

“You feel amazing,” she moaned.

“Mhm. I know them other niggas wasn’t hitting it like this. I just know it. Look at you, cumming all over daddy’s dick. Look at it!” He grabbed her chin and made her look down at her throbbing pussy as his dick slid in and out of her.

“We look so good, daddy!”

Erik slammed into her, and she bit into his shoulder to keep from screaming. He gave her his all over and over, rocking the countertop in the process.

“We’ll look even better if you let me cum in this pussy. Mix my cum with yours-”

“Yes!”

“Yes?” He chuckled. “You want it that bad, huh? Nasty ass, in here getting fucked while that bum ass nigga’s waiting for you upstairs.”

“Mmm, I want it.”

“Want what, babygirl?” Erik teased as he brought his thumb to her clit, strumming it slowly as he thrust into her.

“You. I want you to cum deep in me.”

“Shit,” Erik groaned. “You want it deep in there?”

“Mhm. Put it where it belongs, daddy.” Kayla licked up the side of his neck, making his knees buckle. “Cum in your pussy.”

Erik lost all sense of control and pounded into her tight pussy, somehow getting even deeper in preparation for his release. Kayla held on tight as she felt him begin to spasm inside her, and she released around him again as his deep moans tickled her ear. Erik thrust extra deep and held his dick in place as he emptied his balls into her warmth, whimpering lightly as she rubbed his back to soothe him and bring him back down.

“I missed you, babygirl.”

“I missed you, too, daddy.”

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other until their breathing slowed. Erik was the first to move, slowly pulling himself out of Kayla as she whined at the loss of contact. He kissed all over her face before planting a slow, sweet kiss on her lips.

“I can’t let you go again, Kay-kay,” his voice cracked as tears threatened to fall from his eyes again.

Kayla pulled him back in and kissed him so deeply that she nearly lost herself in him again, but he pulled away and looked her in her eyes.

“I’m serious, girl. I’ll do anything. I’ll marry you, give you as many big-headed babies as you want. Just, please, Kay-” she cut him off with another kiss to shut him up.

“We should go back to my place and talk,” she whispered, and Erik’s face lit up. Something about the way she said it, the way she kissed him, the way her body still responded to his...it gave him hope. Kayla smiled at him and pecked his lips once more before hopping off of the sink. He had to catch her because her legs were wobbly, and she stumbled a little in her heels.

“You aight?” he laughed.

“No, nigga,” she slapped his chest, and the two of them got caught in a laughing fit. They had really just fucked in the bathroom at Chez Martine. Kayla was on cloud nine until a thought occurred to her, and her face fell flat. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Erik’s face turned serious, and his eyes scanned over her body, looking for whatever the problem was.

Kayla started giggling again, and he looked confused.

“What is it?” he asked, barely able to keep a straight face. Her laugh was always so infectious…

“Demetrius.”

“Who?!”

“My date.”

“Girl, don’t worry about him. He probably thinks you dipped out anyway.”

Kayla shrugged and fixed her dress as Erik stuffed his shirt back in his pants. They checked their reflections in the mirror, and Kayla was pleasantly surprised that her makeup was still intact thanks to that setting spray she had splurged on the other day.

“Ready?” Erik asked as he admired her beauty. Kayla nodded, and he unlocked the door, opening it to find Duncan leaning against the wall with a sour look on his face. Kayla’s eyes blew wide as she tried to figure out what to say to her date for the evening.

“Heyyy, um…”

“Denzel,” he seethed.

“Yeah, sorry. So, um, we’re-”

“Sorry, bruh,” Erik clapped him on the shoulder, “but we heading out. Bathroom’s all yours, though.”

Erik pulled Kayla along, and she sent Deion an apologetic glance before following Erik up the stairs. It seemed the whole restaurant knew what had occurred, but neither one of them cared. They were just happy to be around each other again. It had been entirely too long.

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me,@toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @blacklytical, @uzumaki-rebellion, @honeyandpeaches, @cecereads209, @wakandama2,

[imaginethathaikyuu]

kinktober - day one

akaashi keiji - friends to lovers 

kinktober faq kinktober prompt list  

NSFW warning featuring: fingering, dry humping, first time together, unprotected sex other tags: lots of exposition, too many words, years long pining, accidental almost confession, emotional real one, mentions of characters having previous partners, oblivious reader, hidden feelings, slight angst, oh no there’s only one bed!  fem reader

word count: 7380

-

Akaashi Keiji knows everything. 

At least, he seems to. 

You realized this only a month after knowing him. He turned around to you, the girl who sat behind him in biology, and gave you one look before saying, “You have no idea what this lesson is about, do you?” And you laughed, because it was so absurdly true, while Akaashi turned his desk around and introduced himself as your study partner. 

You still don’t know how he knew you were struggling. You thought you hid it well, but his eyes must have caught the poor grade on the quiz the teacher returned to you the week before, or the way you seemed to immediately sulk the moment you walked into the classroom. He could see everything you tried to hide - even things you couldn’t see yourself.

And he wouldn’t let you get away with anything but a stellar grade, so study sessions became routine for the two of you - a friendship was destined to bloom, and fast. 

He was too observant for his own good, which was something you learned while watching one of his volleyball practices. He had been inviting you to come watch after study sessions for awhile, but it took you a bit to work up the nerve to walk into the giant gymnasium filled with boys you didn’t know. 

As you watched him play, you saw his superpower: Akaashi’s eyes were everywhere at once. On the ball, on his teammates, on his opponents, on his own feet - he always knew where everyone was at any given moment, all while somehow managing to spare you a few knowing glances during the mess of the game.

You never knew how he did it, but you figured you didn’t have to know. It was because he was Akaashi, and that’s it. 

But you questioned why no one else seemed to notice it. His excellence was obvious to you, but even his closest friends seemed to gloss over it. 

Keiji stood out to you, while to others, he was just Akaashi. Quiet, reserved, sometimes as blunt as a hammer, Akaashi. 

He didn’t care, though. Akaashi thrived on being in the background - he didn’t need any of the attention or recognition you wished to give him. And maybe he loved his friends more because they left him be. 

Those friends of his, however, all shined just as bright as Keiji did, and were never shy about it. You look back at getting to know them all as a highlight of being in high school; despite never feeling like you belonged in their friend group, you were always happy to be with them. 

Keiji pushed you to get closer to the three boys, Tsukishima, Bokuto, and especially Kuroo, right from the first day you met them. They were playing a friendly volleyball game with a few other boys you never really met, and you quickly learned you had no reason to be nervous to meet them. 

It was easy to let go and goof off, because that’s all any of them were doing, anyway. 

Just because it seemed like fun to get under Kuroo’s skin, you decided to antagonize him a bit. “So, Nekoma’s mascot is a cat, correct?” 

Kuroo immediately grew defensive at your tone. “Yes - what do you have against cats?” 

“Nothing, nothing! I like to think of myself as pretty cat-like, actually.” 

“Show him your claws, Y/N,” Keiji chimed in. 

“They’re nimble, and sneaky... and lazy. Something that owls aren’t - just saying. Seems pretty fitting when comparing your team to ours, don’t you think?” 

“Akaashi, you better get your cat,” Kuroo grumbled, with a sly smirk that never seemed to leave his face. 

“She’s just a kitten,” Akaashi replied, winking at you and immediately taking your breath in a way you’d never felt before. “Not my kitten, though, so you’re on your own here, Kuroo.” 

That’s when the first wall came up. You didn’t notice it, not yet, or even realize why it had been built. But as soon as your heart sank to your stomach and erupted into butterflies all because of Keiji’s flirtatious gesture, that wall arose. 

And many would follow. 

On the walk home from that practice, you noticed every glance he sent you. Every time his shoulder touched yours, you felt it amplified. Your knuckles grazed his and you looked down at your hands - his much bigger than yours, your fingers raring to wrap around his. And they were going to, either out of curiosity or the blatant need to touch him or both, until he stuffed both of his hands into his pockets and away from your potential grasp. 

You shook your disappointment off and reminded yourself of what the two of you were: friends. Just friends. Friends only hold hands sometimes, and it’s not on walks home or during study sessions or any of the times you found yourself wanting to hold onto him. 

“Kuroo likes you,” Akaashi said out of nowhere. And you laughed. 

“You think so?” 

“I’m pretty sure.” He sounded distant, his gaze was head on. “Maybe you should give him a chance.” 

You laughed again and said, “Maybe,” even though you knew you’d never entertain the thought of going out with Kuroo. 

Not with Kuroo or anyone else, but you wouldn’t understand why for a long time. 

Two years of friendship had come and gone in almost an instant, but every day with Akaashi was memorable in that easy familiar way only he could offer. He truly was your comfort - everything you needed in a friend, Keiji had. Being so close to him was a blessing, you knew that. 

When the two of you ended up choosing the same university, you almost wanted to cry, because you knew nothing could quell your fears of what’s new better than Keiji’s all knowing familiarity. Having your best friend by your side during times of change would make everything easier.

But it was a different story entirely when you became roommates with him. The apartment you shared was small but homey; it had all the comfort you had in your friendship with him, and you thought nothing could be better than that. 

It was more than that, though. Months went by of seeing him every day, and it felt like that comfort was leaking through the floor every time you saw his bedhead or heard him singing in the shower or watched him pull another girl into his bedroom. 

It wasn’t like the latter was an often occurrence, but just the thought of him being with someone made your stomach turn. But it gave you the idea of seeking your own partners, which was something you hadn’t done in years, and it quickly spiraled into an unhealthy habit. 

You longed for familiarity, to be touched by someone you knew. You were desperate for comfortable vulnerability, and you never found that with a stranger in your bed. So, you decided to seek out someone familiar. And when the person in bed with you was an old friend, a realization dawned on you. Rather, it was offered to you. 

“What are you doing, Y/N?” Kuroo mumbled, and you did nothing but send him a questioning glare, one he scoffed at. 

The two of you had done nothing so far but send a few flirty texts and then sit on your bed; he hadn’t even kissed you yet. You weren’t sure how you felt about it - you weren’t sure if you even wanted him to kiss you. 

“I’m not the one you want here, idiot. So why am I the one you brought to your bed?” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” you replied honestly. “Are we going to -” 

“No, we aren’t. Are you really that dense?” 

“What?” 

“Look,” Kuroo said, standing up and pinching the bridge of his nose as if he was annoyed that he had to be saying this. And while you watched him, you noticed this was the first time you ever saw him without his signature grin or sly eyes. “If I was a shitty friend, I would have fucked you back in high school, alright? I mean, come on, I had the chance. But I care about Akaashi too much to ever do that with you, and I know you don’t actually want to fuck me.”

You stood up, too, facing him head on. “What does Akaashi have anything to do with fucking me, Kuroo?” 

“Everything, idiot. I know you probably think you’re good at hiding it, but everyone knows you’re as in love as you could possibly be with that smartass.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, because you didn’t, but Kuroo wasn’t having it. 

“Well you’re the only one you’ve convinced. And, for the record, this isn’t going to help you get over him.” 

Still, you didn’t get it. You couldn’t see it - you refused to. 

“You’re off limits, dude, Akaashi told us himself.” 

“Then why are you here?” 

His annoying grin was back. “To see how delusional you really are. And give you some advice. Just admit it to yourself - you’ll feel better, I promise.” 

Keiji was your best friend, and that was it. 

This wasn’t some story of years long pining and unrequited love. 

Was it? 

But you thought about it, for just a moment. You thought about being in love with him. 

And then you couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

You decided, right then and there, that what Kuroo said wasn’t true; admitting it to yourself didn’t make anything better. In a lot of ways, your friendship with Akaashi thrived on your special feelings for him, and it relied on those feelings staying secret to both of you. 

You couldn’t even finish the conversation with Kuroo. He swore not to tell, because you made him, and that was it. 

That’s when the second wall came up, then the third, then the fourth. You were trapped inside of them. Hiding, only hiding, and safe from anyone who could see you or your heart. 

You denied it still, even though Kuroo knew, just to convince yourself he didn’t. No one knew but you; the only one who knew the password to that door was you. You could be hidden, safe, and protected forever, because you made it that way. 

Keiji would never know, and everything would stay okay. 

Everything but you. And that security wouldn’t last, because a storm was brewing. 

But you were content. What you had with Keiji was always enough for you - you had enough. You saw him every day. You got to hear his laugh on the good days and hug him on the bad ones; you got to have coffee with him every morning and secret late night snacks too many midnights. Sleeping alone was fine. Not getting intimate moments was okay. What you had was enough. 

It seemed like the more you recognized your feelings for him, the more of Keiji you saw. You were still getting to know him after years of calling him your best friend; you were noticing his habits that you never saw before. He mumbles to himself while he cooks; he picks at his nails when he’s nervous; he overthinks everything, even the smallest decisions. 

The latter had always been obvious, but you had never realized it until you lived with him - until you really started to love him. 

Every day, you learned something new about him. And every day, you loved him more, in ways you didn’t even know you could. Ways that made it hard to love him from afar.

Months of your love growing during your first year of university seemed to go by too quickly, and soon spring break was fast approaching. A trip with old friends to a lake house was planned months in advance, and both you and Keiji were excited to see the three boys again. 

But when you arrived at the old looking house that evening you were met with knowing eyes and a sly grin that hadn’t changed since high school. 

“There are only four beds,” Kuroo announced, “and five of us.”

“That’s alright,”  Keiji started, but he was interrupted by Bokuto’s loud laugh. 

“Oh, I guess we’re sharing a bed, four eyes!” 

“I’ll suffocate you in your sleep,” Tsukishima said, meaning every word he said in a way that made Kuroo cackle. 

Keiji looked at you. “You don’t mind sharing with me, do you?” 

A million thoughts ran through your mind, but you only shook your head. You didn’t voice any of the concerns you had for yourself. 

“No problem.” 

He gave you a grin. “It’ll be like our high school sleepovers,” and then he took your bag and left to find your shared room. 

You remembered the last sleepover you had with him and your heart raced just thinking about it; you spent half of the night pretending to be asleep, and the other half watching Keiji’s sleeping face and wondering why laying next to him made you feel the way it did. 

This would be the exact same, except now you knew why your heart would be pounding. 

Kuroo was still laughing, but he was looking directly at you. “Are you sure it’s not a problem?” 

“Shut up, Kuroo.” 

He kept laughing, and it left Bokuto scratching his head. “What’s going on? Why are you mad, Y/N?” 

“Because Kuroo is an asshole -” 

“Hey now, I’m doing you a favor here!”

“...I still don’t get it.” 

“You never will, Bokuto,” Tsukishima commented. 

You decided to leave Kuroo laughing on his own - you shouldn’t let him get under your skin, because that’s exactly what he wanted to do. He was doing this on purpose. Maybe he thought he was helping you out, but he was only making things harder for you. 

You weren’t going to let him win. You were going to have fun on this trip while keeping our secret seeled, and nothing would stop you - not even Kuroo attempting to play matchmaker. 

The late arrival called for a quick dinner and a nighttime bonfire to kick off the vacation the right way; the boys were all too excited for the night and had gotten the fire started before you could even finish unpacking your bag. 

When you stepped outside, the cool air hit your skin and froze you all over - you expected low temperatures, but not that. 

“It’s cold!” you called out to the boys who were all sitting around the nearby campfire. 

“That’s why we have a fire, moron!” 

“It’s still cold,” you argued, even though you knew it was fruitless to fight with Kuroo.

“It’s alright, you’ll warm up,” Keiji told you. 

“Go warm her up, Akaashi!” 

You ignored Kuroo’s comment - you were not in a good place to be entertaining that thought, not when you’d be in bed with Keiji in just a few hours. 

Keiji seemed to ignore it, too. “Here, I saved you a seat.” He patted the vacant spot on the bench next to him, and you sat down. “You didn’t bring a jacket, did you?” 

“It’s inside,” you replied. “But I’m fine.” 

He didn’t even listen to your response, he was already pulling his hoodie off and giving it to you. 

“Are you sure?” you asked, holding it in your lap.

“Yes,” he replied. “It’ll keep you warm - you need it more than I do.” 

“How romantic,” Kuroo butted in, and it was only now that you noticed the beer in his hand - as well as the few empty cans next to him. 

Drunk Kuroo is always worse than Sober Kuroo, even though you could hardly believe he could ever get snarkier. It was like alcohol made him open his big mouth more, and it always made you nervous. Even though you knew he’d never say anything about your secret while anyone else was around, any time alcohol was involved made those chances go up.

“Just being nice,” Keiji said, obviously playing in to Kuroo’s banter. “I don’t see you offering her your jacket.” 

“Hey, I just don’t think you’d like it if I gave your girl my jacket, would you?” 

Keiji laughed at his slurred words and directed his reply at the group rather than to Kuroo, “He’s only had five beers and he’s already stuttering.” 

“We’ll see if he makes it to six before passing out,” you said, and while it made the others laugh, it seemed to rub Kuroo’s drunken fragile ego the wrong way. 

“I can handle my alcohol just fine, thank you.” 

Bokuto butted in, “Are you sure about that?” 

“You’ve been a lightweight since high school,” you added. 

Everyone laughed, Kuroo included. With his next words, he must have thought he was playing along with the joke. That you were all in on what he was about to say next. That they would have no repercussions, they would sting no ears. 

But when he said them, it sounded like a smack of thunder. 

“Yeah, and you’ve been hiding your feelings since high school - some things just never change, Y/N!” 

You could hardly hear Bokuto saying, “Feelings? For who?!”

“For Aka -”

“Kuroo.” 

You stood up. Keiji’s forgotten hoodie fell out of your lap and landed on the ground. Everything was quiet save for the fire cracking and the pounding of your heart. 

Your eyes said everything you needed to tell Kuroo. He stared right back at you, his face white as snow and his mouth hung open as he choked back his words. Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. It was the calm before a fast approaching storm, one you couldn’t run away from. 

“You weren’t going to say Akaashi, were you? Surely not…” 

Kuroo turned his head to look at Bokuto, seeming to have no clue what to say. You kept staring as he shook his head, not having the courage to say anything else. 

“Pretty sure he was,” Tsukishima said.

“Oh. Shit.” 

You could have denied it - you didn’t. You could have been angry at Kuroo - you weren’t. You could have explained this away as him being drunk and talking out of his ass - you couldn’t. 

You didn’t dare turn to look at Keiji as you stormed toward the cabin. You refused to stay and let this situation become worse than it already was. 

You could hardly hear the words Keiji had for Kuroo, but they were something like, “Why the fuck did you do that?” and if you had been any less upset you would have been worried for how angry he sounded. 

You didn’t know what would happen next. If you thought about it, you were sure you’d fall apart, and that was the one thing you couldn’t let happen. You had to hold yourself together, you had to give this situation the benefit of the doubt. 

Maybe if you could just lie down and sleep before Keiji comes inside, you could wake up in the morning and everyone would act like nothing happened. Just because your secret is out doesn’t mean it was over - you could wait out this storm. 

That’s what you were doing when Keiji came into your shared bedroom. You lied in bed as Keiji slipped in, your back to him and the blanket pulled up to your chin. And, just like at those old sleepovers with him, you were pretending to be asleep.

You had to be good at pretending if you wanted to stay best friends with him. To be as close as you are, with the feelings that you keep for him, you learned how to hide from Keiji. And you had gotten good at it, too - at least, you liked to think so. You were sure he wouldn’t catch you awake. 

You tried not to think about what happened earlier. You tried not to dread what was coming if he knew you weren’t actually sleeping. 

Minutes passed and Akaashi stayed awake. Then, he looked over to you. 

“I know you’re awake.” 

Everything felt frozen, just for a moment, but you didn’t move. You kept your breathing deep and steady, you lied still. 

He reached a hand out to you, fisting your shirt into his palm. His thumb grazed your lower back, skin he exposed from grabbing your shirt. 

“Stop pretending. You’re bad at it.” 

It was like the world stopped spinning. Your world, anyway - the one you had made up in your head. The world where the only things Keiji didn’t know were all the things you were trying to hide from him; the world where, despite never being a good liar, you were good at lying to him. 

But that wasn’t the same world Keiji was living in.

“I know,” you replied, voice cracking through the words. 

You were sure he didn’t mean what he said in the way you felt it sting your chest, but it didn’t matter. Years of learning, hiding, pretending were all culminating in this moment, and if you weren’t careful you’d end up losing it all. 

His hand moved from your back to holding your side. “Will you look at me?” And you didn’t have a choice, because he was turning you to lay on your back, anyway. 

So you looked at him, because it’s what he asked you to do, and you felt the first crack in your poorly built foundation when you realized how close he was to you; then, he put his hand on your side and pulled you even closer.

It’s like he was looking through you. 

“I should tell you something,” he said, and you had some idea where he was going with this but you didn’t want to find out. No part of you wanted to hear what he was about to say. 

“You know… I already knew, Y/N.” 

There it was: the collapse. 

You couldn’t look at him anymore, so you closed your eyes and tried to keep pretending, even though you had nowhere left to hide. 

“Yeah.” The hand on your side was hot and heavy and hard; you hated how much you loved being touched by him, even right now when your made up world was ending. “I know.” 

“I’ve always known.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

You were so close to letting go, to breaking down in the pile of rubble. But you had built your house of lies on unsteady ground, after all; what else did you expect to happen other than this destruction? 

You wanted to cry. You didn’t. You couldn’t be angry at yourself or upset, because you saw this coming. After all, Keiji knows everything. He sees things you don’t even know are showing - he’s been able to read you like a book since before he even knew your name. 

Of course he knew. You were stupid to ever think he didn’t. 

He whispered your name, and then you felt him kiss your forehead. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again, meaning it with your whole heart even though you knew it wouldn’t change anything. 

“I should tell you something else,” he said, and it was quiet, like he was telling you a secret only you could know. He was treading carefully, choosing his words particularly - he didn’t do that often. You felt him bunching your shirt up in his fist again, you heard him sigh loudly. “I don’t even know how to say it.” 

The tears were finally slipping free as you began to understand what he was getting at, so you pulled back. You didn’t need him to pity you. 

“It’s fine,” you insisted, trying to push him away. He wouldn’t let you. “I know - I’ll get over it - you don’t have to tell me - I already know.” 

“No, you don’t - you don’t know, Y/N, please, just come here.” 

“Keiji -” 

“Let me show you.” He wasn’t speaking quietly anymore - this wasn’t a secret anymore. “I can’t explain it - let me show you, Y/N - please.” 

“Show me what?” 

“That I feel the same,” he said, pulling you back into his arms. 

For a second, you thought you misheard him.

And then, he kissed you. 

Soft, sweet, new lips were on yours, taking your breath as if he needed it to breathe himself, then breathing a new life into you that you never knew could be alive. It was like striking a match, flicking a lighter, starting a fire; you watched the rubble of your once hidden love burn, all at the hands of Keiji. 

At first you didn’t even know how to kiss him back. It was too much, too bright, too hot - and then, you couldn’t stop kissing him. You anchored your hands on the back of his neck and held him against you, silently begging him to let you take all that you wanted from him. 

You kissed him like you’d never get the chance to do this again, because you were sure you wouldn’t. This hardly felt real, let alone something that would ever happen more than once. So you savored it, you memorized this feeling so you could relive it in your dreams forever. 

A whimper reverberated through your throat and against Keiji’s lips and the feeling made him kiss you deeper, like he was searching for a way to get you to make that noise again. As the kiss got deeper, a natural progression came over your position; before you could realize it, Keiji was on top of you and lying between your legs. 

His touch was hotter than a flame and yet you couldn’t get enough of it. Every time his tongue brushed against yours, it took a part of you with it, and you were ready to give him all of you. 

And then, he stopped kissing you. 

He pulled back only slightly, and when you chased his lips he pulled back even more. You opened your eyes and stared up at him, at his blushed cheeks and pink lips and beautiful eyes. You could see the cogs in his mind turning and for a second it was like you were seeing a part of Keiji he’s never shown you before; the veil of his all knowing gaze was being dropped, only because he was letting it. 

Because all this time, Keiji was hiding, too - hiding in plain sight. You always thought he treated you the way he treated everyone else, that he knew everything about everyone, but it wasn’t true. He only knew all of your secrets because he took the time to find them. He only saw you for who you really were because he cared enough to know. And, unlike you, he was a good actor; good at pretending you weren’t special; good at building walls that would stay up until he was ready for them to come down. 

And with his next words, he made them shatter. 

“I love you.”  

You kept staring at him, trying to figure out if this nervous boy on top of you really was Keiji. 

“Really?” 

He nodded. 

“Say it again.” 

“I love you.” 

You brushed his hair out of his face and rested your hand on his cheek, still completely in awe of him, and this was all too much for you to believe. “Is this a prank?” 

He laughed at you, and his nerves seemed to melt away. 

“Damn, you caught me.” His forehead fell to rest on yours, your noses brushed. “No, it’s not a prank. I love you.” 

Somehow this intimacy felt all too foreign and way too familiar, all at once. It was overflowing, your heart was racing, it was hard to breathe, tears were falling from your eyes. 

“Say it again,” you whispered, begging him to assure you of this - to make you believe it. 

And he wiped your tears away as he told you, again, “I love you,” and the kiss he placed on your cheek seemed to make you weep even more. “And I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry, Y/N, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” you replied immediately, “I love you, too - it’s okay.” 

“It’s not okay.” It was obvious, now, that this had been bothering Keiji for longer than you could ever know. “I just… wasn’t ready. Especially with volleyball, and then moving, and then starting university, I just - I never had enough of me to give to you. And you deserve all of me, not just what’s left of me at the end of the day - I don’t know. I’m just… sorry.” 

You didn’t know how to reply to that in a way that was good enough - all you could think to do was kiss him, because you finally could kiss him, so you did. And it was the same as your first: hot and sweet, familiar and foreign, intimate and overwhelming. 

And the more you kissed him, the more it stirred something up inside of you. He wasn’t holding back - not after holding back for years - and it was like he was trying to get any reaction he could out of you. You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him closer than he’s ever been, and the way it felt to have him pressed up against you sent chills across your burning skin. 

You pulled back from the kiss just to take a breath. “Say it again,” you mumbled, because you weren’t tired of hearing those three words yet. A part of you still didn’t believe them.

Instead of saying them, though, he let his kisses trail down your jaw and onto your neck. You could feel the vibrations of his voice when he spoke, “Let me show you.” 

And you knew what he meant, but you teased him anyway, “How do you want to do that?”

His hips seemed to move on their own free will, thrusting against you as if he couldn’t stop them. And it proved that he was just as in over his head as you were; you liked that. You liked knowing you weren’t the only one in a daze. You liked having this effect on Keiji. 

“However you want,” he said through a dry throat. “We can do anything you want.” 

“I just want you,” you told him honestly. You had no other choice anymore - the truth was all you had left. 

“You have me,” he replied. “I’m yours - just let me show you.” 

Your next kiss was interrupted by his shirt coming off, then yours. You felt his bare skin against yours and you were sure this was enough, that you were content with just this. This feeling was all that you needed. 

“You’re pretty,” he whispered to you as his eyes scanned your bare body, and it left you shaking in anticipation as his lips made their way to your chest. “The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

Your eyes couldn’t leave his face as your fingers carded through his hair; you felt his hands travel the length of your body, and every kiss he left on your skin felt like it was touching your heart - all you could do was watch. 

His hand moved lower, his fingers were teasing the edge of your shorts, but he hesitated to cross the barrier. You grabbed his wrist and pushed him across it, showing him that you couldn’t wait for this. 

That’s all Keiji needed to understand how far you were willing to go with him. His skilled fingers worked against you, slipping into your underwear and touching you exactly where you needed them to, and it was better than anything you could ever dream. 

And he did it like it was easy, like he’s spent years getting to know your body and he was doing what he knew would work. Like this was routine rather than your first time. 

This sure as hell felt like it was your first time doing this; you had never felt so sensitive or open or vulnerable. But you had never been touched by a man you wanted so much; you never thought you’d feel his fingers spreading you open or see him on top of you - this is something you’ve only done in daydreams, and now it was real. 

For the first time you were vulnerable and okay with it. You were letting him have all of you, and you trusted that he would treat you right. And he was. Maybe it was your love for him or the disbelief of the situation or both clouding your judgement, but you were convinced that his fingers felt better than your own. 

“Is this okay?” he asked in a whisper, and you replied with a moan that you couldn’t hold in anymore. He laughed, “Does that mean yes?” 

“Keiji, please don’t tease.” 

“I’m not teasing yet,” he replied with a few kisses along your jaw. You felt his fingers moving more, moving toward going inside, but he hesitated. “Y/N…” 

You were pulled out of your daze for just a second as you looked up at his furrowed brows and half lidded eyes; his face left you wondering what he was about to say next. 

“I really like the sounds you’re making,” he said, “but if anyone hears we’ll never hear the end of it.” 

You laughed, because you had completely forgotten that you and Keiji weren’t the only two people in the world - let alone this house. 

“Right,” you breathed out. 

“I’ll give you anything you ask for, but you…” 

Two of his fingers slid into you, and you held back a gasp. 

“...have to stay quiet. Can you do that for me?” 

You nodded, trying your best to take deep breaths rather than let your voice out. 

“Yeah?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” you replied, giving another nod. 

“Good,” he said. 

His fingers curled, and you covered your mouth with your palm. 

“Stay quiet,” he said, even though it felt like he was doing everything he could so you’d do the opposite. His fingers curling into you were begging for a reaction, and it was hard not to give him one. “Fuck, you’re so hot.” 

Keiji’s hips were moving again, thrusting against your leg like he just couldn’t help it. You wanted to give him more but you couldn’t - your hands were busy covering your mouth and holding onto the sheets for your life, and so all you could do was watch him grinding against you. 

“You’re one to talk,” you replied, making him laugh. 

Both of you looked down and watched; the curl of his fingers moved in time with his thrusts against you - every time they came forward, you felt his length sliding up your thigh. And when he pulled back, his fingers straightened out. 

You’d give anything to have more. “Keiji,” you started, but you just couldn’t get the words out. 

He said them for you as he pulled his fingers out, “Can I fuck you?” 

You had no other answer besides, “Please,” and you were ready to beg for it if that’s what it came to. 

He started to pull his boxers off, but again, he hesitated. The arm he was holding himself up with was trembling, his breathing was unsteady, his entire body seemed tense. Keiji was hanging on by a thread. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked.

You were taken aback. “Keiji…” 

“We don’t have to do this now - is it too soon? Are you sure you want me?” 

It was hard to listen to his voice when it sounded so honest. 

Your hands took place on either side of his face, ensuring he would look at you while you spoke to him. 

“Keiji… do you want this?” 

“More than anything,” he replied. 

“I can tell,” you joked, and he rolled his eyes at you. “I’ve wanted you for longer than I can remember - I don’t think it’s too soon. But we can wait if you want. There’s no pressure, okay?” 

“I don’t,” he said. “I can’t wait - I’m so hard it fucking hurts - I just don’t want you to -” 

“You think too much.” 

He laughed. “I know.” 

You let your hands travel down to his chest, hoping you got through to him. “Don’t overthink it. I want you to fuck me, Keiji,” and your hips thrusted against his as if to convince him of how badly you needed it. “Sooner rather than later.”

It seemed to be good enough, he seemed to believe you, because now he wasn’t hesitating to take off his shorts and yours. The view it gave you struck a burning desire like no other - now that you could see all of him, you couldn’t handle not having all of him. 

And he was raring to give himself to you, coaxing his cock inside of you until you took it all, and both of you felt like you were about to explode. 

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned, and the volume of his voice pulled you back down to the real world. 

“Stay quiet,” you reminded him, giggling because the tables had turned on him. 

“I know,” he said with a nod. “You just feel so good - you’re so fucking tight -  I can’t believe this is happening - oh, fuck, it’s too much.” 

“Move, Keiji,” you whined, bucking your hips up to try to feel anything, and he cursed under his breath when he pulled back to watch your desperate attempt at fucking yourself with his cock. 

“You can do it,” he teased, pulling his hips back a little more so you had more room to move. “Keep going - fuck me like that, kitten, don’t stop.” 

You were dying to feel him meeting your thrusts, because this wasn’t nearly enough, but you loved his teasing. 

“That’s it,” he said, “that’s my girl. Taking me so well, fuck, you’re perfect.” 

He couldn’t take it anymore, that was obvious as his thrusts started. He took a hold of your hips and held you in place so he could take you at his own pace, and he was everything you could ever need. 

Your love for him was spilling from your lips and he was doing everything he could to keep you saying it, bringing you higher with every passing second. Feeling him between your thighs and inside your walls was intoxicating. It was everything you hoped it would be, simply because it was Keiji. 

“I’m close,” you said as if he needed a warning - he could probably already tell. 

“Quiet, kitten,” he said to you, bringing your lips up to his for a kiss. “These sounds are for me - don’t want anyone else hearing what’s mine. Be a good girl for me.” 

“I’m trying,” you replied, and he cooed at your whining. 

“I know,” he mumbled, and just by the sound of his voice you could tell he was liking this. And he was going to make it harder for you when his hand trailed down your body so his fingers could circle your clit. 

He kissed you hard to stop any sound you were about to make and you were grateful for it. 

“I want you to cum for me,” he said, “and I don’t want you to make a sound when you do.” 

“Keiji -” 

His hips and fingers sped up. “I’m serious. Come on, kitten, be my good girl - make me proud and stay quiet while you’re cumming all over my cock. You can do it, I know you can.” 

Any trust he had in you staying quiet until the end was completely misplaced - you knew that when his hand clamped down over your mouth. You didn’t try to hold in your voice at all, and Keiji was having just as much trouble, burying his face into your neck to muffle his noises the best he could. 

It didn’t matter if anyone else could hear you; to you, nothing else mattered but Keiji. He was the only other person in your world, the only person your body would ever scream so loudly for. As long as it was him bringing you to this euphoria, you didn’t care who else knew about it. 

Let your friends give you hell for it, let Kuroo say I told you so - you’d deal with the embarrassment in the morning. That moment was worth it. 

The soft kisses he was leaving on your neck in the wake of hitting your peaks helped you float back down easily. It was like being woken up from a dream, one where the only thing you could remember was how pleasant it was. 

“You were not quiet,” Keiji laughed. You felt your cheeks swelling and heating up in embarrassment. 

“I couldn’t help it…” 

“It’s okay,” he replied. “You still made me proud.” 

He lied next to you and pulled you close, and you convinced yourself that you were going to be there in his arms forever. If you were, you’d have no complaints. 

A quiet moment passed, and you couldn’t stand the silence. “How was… that?” 

He pulled back to look at you with wide eyes, as if he didn’t expect you to ask. “What do you mean?” 

“Was it good? Did you like it? Was I -” 

“It was perfect,” he said, biting his lip and looking up at the ceiling as if his high hadn’t completely worn off. “It was everything. Don’t get all shy and insecure on me now that you know I love you back.”  

“Shut up,” you said with a laugh. “I’m just making sure.” 

“Do you need me to prove it to you again?” 

“Maybe.”

“I’ll make sure you stay quiet for me this time, then.” 

Whether or not the two of you were successful in your attempts to keep the noise down was up for debate, but by the end of the night, neither of you cared. 

And the next morning, when you forced yourself to leave Keiji and the warmth of the bed, you found Kuroo pacing outside of your door. 

“Y/N.” 

“Hey.” 

“I’m sorry - I’m so sorry - what I said last night was way out of line, and I don’t expect you to forgive me for it -”

“It’s fine, Kuroo,” you said, because it was. If you were being honest, after the night you had with Keiji you had completely forgotten about what Kuroo said. 

“It’s not fine,” he argued. “I shouldn’t have done that - you trusted me not to say anything about your feelings, and then I did. I fucked up - why aren’t you pissed right now?” 

Before you could start to think of a reply, the door behind you opened. Keiji’s bed head popped out. 

“Can you guys be quiet?” 

“Sorry,” Kuroo immediately replied. 

Then, Keiji turned to you. “Can you come back to bed? It’s cold.” 

You nodded, and Keiji went back inside, and the moment you looked at Kuroo’s face, you knew he’d figured things out. 

“Did you guys fuck?!” 

You had no response. Keiji, however, called out a simple, “Yeah,” leaving you covering your face in embarrassment. 

“Holy shit. I -” 

You went back into your bedroom before he could even finish his words, slamming the door in his face so he couldn’t finish his boasting. But you heard him say, “You’re welcome!” before finally trodding off, and you shook off your embarrassment as best as you could. 

The breakfast you needed minutes ago was long forgotten as you looked at the view in front of you of the boy who was yours. Keiji was waiting for you with sleepy eyes peeking up at you from soft sheets, a grin on his face, and his arms open. 

He didn’t have to say a word - you were in those arms in seconds. Both of you released a sigh of relief; Keiji was warm again, and you were being held by him again. 

“Finally.” 

“I was gone for, like, two minutes, tops.” 

“I don’t care,” he replied. “It was long enough that I got too cold without you here.”

You felt like you should have more to say, but you didn’t. 

You’d spent years hoping for a moment like this. It was as soft and golden and happy as you’d ever dreamed, and moments like those didn’t need words. You knew how Keiji felt, and despite all your attempts at hiding, Keiji knew how you felt, too. 

And in that moment, when the two of you were lying in the afterglow of intimacy from the night before, finally knowing is all that mattered. 

 - 

tune in tomorrow for kinktober day 2: royal