#step 2: twang your heart out

[consciouscarrot]

toxic, older man!price x reader

summary; you catch price flirting with someone else when you’re out on a date together, you argue but price manages to plant seeds in your head that you were overreacting. this is you coming back to him, because john is always right, and he would never hurt you, right?

warnings- toxic, abusive relationship, smut, public sex, voyeurism, humiliation, boot humping

—————

it had only been 2 days since your argument with john. you’d thought that he was in the wrong, when you caught him chatting up a pretty blonde whilst he waited for you to be done in the bathroom at the local pub.

you’d thought he was in the wrong when he’d denied their conversation being flirty, saying that he could never want someone that wasn’t you, even though his hand had been awfully close to her ass.

you’d started being confused about who was in the wrong when he’d complained about you always picking holes in every little thing he did, that he felt like he was being suffocated by you, before storming out, leaving you to find your own way home.

now, 2 days later, you knew that he was right, you had been more clingy than usual lately, and you had been tending to tell him off when really, the things he’d been doing weren’t that bad. you shouldn’t have complained about him looking down the waitress’ top last week when you were on another date, he couldn’t help that his eyes were at the same level as her tits! it’s not his fault that his chair was the perfect height.

you were missing him desperately, wishing that you’d just kept you mouth shut so you could be with him right now. you’d been on the fence about calling him, not sure if he’d even want you anymore after your spout. so instead, you decided that the best course of action, was to get absolutely plastered and pretend nothing happened.

admittedly, it wasn’t the best plan you could’ve come up with, and you were slightly regretting it now that you’d found yourself stood on john’s doorstep, in the sluttiest outfit you had, hand hovering by the door because you were too scared to knock.

luckily for you, he opened the door, unlit cigar in one hand. your eyes welled up immediately at the sight of him, feeling overwhelmed with relief from how much you’d missed him.

he sighed heavily, not looking at all surprised to see you and leaned up against the door frame, “you come to apologise for your behaviour?”

you quickly looked down, tears streaming down your face and cooling your warmed cheeks. now that you were here, you were unsure what to say. how could you ever make it up to him, what could you do to repay him for being so mean and inconsiderate to your poor boyfriend.

“you gonna answer me? or did y’come just here to yell and embarrass me again?”

his words only made you cry harder, wishing you could go back to before and have your john back. you swear that you’ll never complain about him again if he forgives you, you’d do anything he asked.

“no i-,” your own sobs cut you off, and you scrambled to find the right words, eyes lifting to meet his. “i’m so sorry, i was so cruel, i didn’t mean to.”

“so you just meant to upset me then, just didn’t mean to do it so publicly?” he sneered, titling his to the side a little. the floor beneath him creaked as he pushed off the frame, stepping closer to you.

you rushed to shake your head, doing it so quickly that your head swarmed, stumbling a little.

“don’t be so pathetic, it doesn’t suit you baby,”

you whimpered quietly, “i didn’t want to hurt you at all, i promise. please, i need you, please don’t leave me. i promise i’ll be good. just tell me what to do and i’ll do it, please.”

your breathing was laboured, and your heart felt like it was going to pump out of your chest. you waited whilst he considered, hoping that whatever he chose, that it would be enough for him to consider forgiveness.

“on your knees,” he commanded, finally lighting the cigar and taking a pull.

you dropped down, feeling the twang in your knees that you knew meant they’d be black and blue later. you looked up at him, waiting patiently for his next order as tears continued to fall, “hump my boot.”

you moved to do as he’d asked, not wanting to be seen hesitating and he change his mind. you carefully lifted yourself up, and placed your weight down onto his leather boot. your tears finally began to dry up as you loosely wrapped your arms around his strong leg.

going slowly at first, you rubbed your cunt along his shoe, trying to avoid the laces. you tried your best to put on a show for him, wanting to make him pleased at your actions, but the feeling of the leather grinding against your clit was disturbingly good.

just as you were getting lost in twisted pleasure, you heard a long whistle from down the street behind you. your head whipped around, stunting your movements on his shoe. a couple of men had gathered around to watch, and you hadn’t even realised. had they been there the whole time? did you know them? it was too dark to be able to recognise them, but the porch light above john made you very visible to them. you only hoped they couldn’t see the way your swollen cunt was glistening against the leather.

you felt a rough tug to your hair, and squealed as he said, “did i fucking tell you to stop?” you shook your head again, knowing that any words you said would only anger him further at this point, and john didn’t tolerate prolonged disobedience.

resuming your movements, you tried not to think about the strangers, and focused only john and your quickly approaching orgasm.

you’d never felt so humiliated in your life, but you knew you deserved this. after all, this is how he must of felt outside that pub bathroom, with all those people around, watching. really, if you thought about it, you were quite lucky to only have a couple people watching you. john had been very generous with his punishment, and you’d happily take it like a good girl if it made him happy.

legs shaking, you moaned into his thigh, calling out his name like a chant. pleasure flowed through you as you released your cum onto his now shining boot. you collapsed against him, feeling exhausted and embarrassed. he gently pulled you up and into his arms, pressing his hard bulge into you as you tried to recover.

before you could realise what he was doing, you felt him flip up the back of your skirt, followed by a sharp burn against your ass check. you gasped, trying to move away from the source of pain. he shushed you as you began to cry again, rubbing your back and discarding the rest of the now put out cigar onto the floor.

“did so well for me, sweetheart. you’re forgiven, been such a good girl, haven’t you? how could i ever stay mad at that pretty face of yours, hm?”

he picked you up and walked around back into his house, slamming the door shut with his foot behind him.

your body continued to tremble as he placed you down onto his bed, lovingly tucking your hair behind your ears. he moved back to undo your laces and take off your shoes, focus moving back over to your face every once in a while. next, he unzipped the side of your skirt, and pulled your top off, leaving you in only your soaked underwear.

he admired the view, smiley softly when your eyes met and crawled up the bed to lay beside you. you always craved these moments with him, where you knew he loved you, where you knew that you were the one he wanted right now. you’d go to much further lengths than you had tonight on the porch to make him happy, if it meant that this is what you got in return. nothing felt this good.

he pulled you closer, his hold on your body tight, almost uncomfortably so, before his face turned serious, “you ever embarrass me again, and i’ll fucking kill ya, you hear me?”

you sniffled, eyes widening a little but refusing to squirm from his arms, “i won’t ever, i promise john,”

“good, that’s good,”

and just like that, he was his happy self again, like you’d never argued, like he hadn’t just threatened to take you life, like you didn’t know that he meant it. everything was good again, just don’t you dare say a word when the next week, you catch him sending pictures of his dick to his “doctor”.

—————

any feedback in the comments is massively appreciated <3

[shamrockqueen]

Omega retreat : Chapter 2

Pairing: Alpha Bucky × Omega Reader

Warnings: R18, Eventual Smut, Not what it seems, talk of medical issues/illness, dating site, ABO dynamics

Word count: 2477

Chapter 1

Bucky masterlist

Summary: As an unmarked and lonely omega you find a flyer for a service called The Omega Retreat.

You are paired with a compatible alpha to spend your heat or just a week at a luxurious cabin at a forest resort. Amenities and Utilities included. Enjoy the beautiful scenery, fresh air, as well as the company of an alpha of your choosing. What could possibly go wrong?

The blue screen of your laptop lit up the dark and gloomy room as you booted it up and set your sights on the internet explorer icon.

Your eyes shift back and forth from the slightly crunched flier to the keyboard as you type up the website in the search bar.

Upon clicking enter, there is a cascade of red and pink hearts across the screen before the main page comes into view.

From the photos, it seems kind of like a glamping thing, with each couple or pairing having their own semi-remote cabin.

Singles retreats weren’t a new concept—not that you’ve ever been to one, but this would be a whole week alone with a stranger, a man, an alpha.

That familiar twang of anxiety twisted in your chest at the thought, only for it to be snuffed out by another.

‘We all have to grow up at some point’.

You eyed the two packages listed on the screen, one labeled as Silver and the other Gold. The silver package went by, Forget me knot.” and you felt yourself chuckle a little at how cheesy it sounded. It was a 4-day stay at one of the cabins with an alpha provided by the website's dating algorithm.

The Gold package had another cheesy line listed as “Heat of the Night." It listed a full-week stay for the duration of the omega’s heat with your new Alpha.

The prospect was, of course, very tantalizing, but it still didn’t fail to make you nervous. You had never spent a heat with someone before, and it seemed a little scary. Was a week with a stranger worth seeing what you were missing out on?

You clicked the icon for the Gold package without thinking further, blinking at the screen as it shifted to the sign-up page. You’d only wanted further info but it looked like only members could access it. It was, however, free to sign up, a claim made by many websites and apps before it. Yet, even at the free level, it seemed you could at least get to look at the Alpha bachelors they had in their database. Just another step to pull you in closer to spending the big bucks.

It asked for a photo at first, making you hesitate before finally deciding on one simple photo of yourself. It had been your birthday, and your mother was by your side, hugging your shoulder. You had to crop out most of your mom, but your big smile still beamed just as brightly across the screen. You typed in a shortened version of your name for your little profile, along with your age, before clicking the next button.

The page flipped to a quick questionnaire, asking about your likes and dislikes—everything from your bedtime routine to your bedroom habits. It barely toed the line of TMI, but you supposed it had to be thorough to find you a match. You clicked through each question, making sure every answer felt right. Before you could tell, it had been half an hour and you were only almost finished. You snuggled yourself into your plush couch as you finally clicked the submit button.

A little spinning heart pops up on the scream alongside ‘finding your perfect match’ underneath it. The heart spun around on the screen until the loading bar hit 100 and the page shifted over to show your results.

Your eyes widen at the selection of handsome men flooding the screen. There are more Alphas flashing over your computer than you’ve ever seen in one small space, and already there are too many to choose from.

Part of you figured that to a seasoned romantic, it would seem like small potatoes, but to you, it was more men than you knew what to do with. The only distraction that could tear your eyes away was a heart-shaped character at the corner of the screen babbling away in a little text box. His happy little demeanor reminds you of a certain talking paperclip from old office software. Only you found this little guy less irritating.

‘We have selected 20 of your most suitable partners. Please choose from the profiles below to chat and find your match.’

You clicked the speech bubble away, only for another to pop up.

‘Don’t forget to check out our selection of getaways for your official meetup’ popped up across the page.

You clicked again, and another bubble came after.

‘If for any reason you are unsatisfied with your matches, please take the quiz again.’

You take the little heart man’s words into consideration before clicking back towards the alpha profiles.

The first was a rough-looking man named Brock. Too macho for your type, and you shied away from his profile immediately.

The next one was a sweet, gentle-looking man named Steve. He seemed really interested in a lifetime mate, but as romantic as it seemed, you just weren’t too sure that was what you wanted just yet.

It was a little overwhelming. All these men were stunning, and yet the scared little omega inside of you kept turning tail at the gleam of each of their smiles, leading you to click at the next button again and again.

You’d gone through 12 profiles until you stopped on his picture. His brown hair sat at the base of his neck, looking soft and supple enough to tangle your fingers through, and his smile was immediately infectious.

The name James ‘Bucky’ Barnes sat below the photo in bold, but you barely noticed as your gaze locked on his light, smiling blue eyes.

You feel both your heart and your core flutter, leading to a wave of warmth and a bit of unearned embarrassment. You didn’t think any further before clicking his profile, showing you more about this ‘Bucky’.

It gave a broad list of hobbies, his likes and dislikes, as well as so many more dreamy photos.

His profiles stated he was interested in a mate but “wanted to test the waters first." Not interested in being too serious, but not scared of a commitment.

Even though this man seemed like an absolute dream, you couldn’t help but second-guess yourself. Yet, the butterflies in your stomach overpowered the worries in the back of your mind. You let your cursor hover over the match button on his profile before slowly clicking down on the mouse and watching with bated breath as the screen changed again.

That little heart man, now less animated, was the last sight you saw after you clicked. He was accompanied by a few speech bubbles saying, “The alpha you have chosen will be notified; please feel free to browse our events as you wait.”

The word ‘events’ was lit up in another color separate from the text and clearly a link to the rest of the website. At the end of the day, they WERE trying to sell you something, but curiosity got the better of you, and you clicked the link without another thought.

You looked over the two packages they offered and let your cursor hover over the gold package. You stared at its short description, comparing it with the smaller vacation bundle that sat beside it on the screen. You think it over and cautiously click on the icon.

The prices were the first thing that struck you, as none of them were very expensive for what they were advertising. Saving a few bucks always seemed to sweeten the deal, but it really made it all seem too good to be true.

The resort has a full staff available in case of an emergency and are simply a call away. All meals would come in the form of meal kits or ready-made gourmet dinners, as well as a selection of wine and spirits for those 21 and over.

There was a little policy note at the bottom, in smaller letters.

“All reservations are refundable upon cancellation 7 days before the date of the reservation. If you cancel your stay after 7 days, you will be charged a cancellation fee. In the event that your desired partner declines your match, you will be prompted to choose another alpha from the list given to you.”

The idea of being rejected by a stranger online made some of the appeal wear thin. You x-ed out of the pop-up, only to notice a notification lighting up your screen.

He had matched with you immediately, causing another flutter of hearts to pulse over the computer for one moment. On the little message icon sat the number one to indicate somebody had reached out to you, and you clicked on it right away.

The chat room opens up on your screen to show a little chat box bubble saying, “Hi beautiful ;)". The old-style winky face gave his age away and made some of the insecurities in your belly melt.

This 'James' had matched you so soon, and to have him reach out to you on your screen still made you nervous.

The bouncing dots popped up below the first message to indicate he was still typing. You're frozen on the spot as the messages just keep popping up.

“Hello?”

It seemed a bit impatient, but you didn’t think to care; you were too thrilled by this new encounter.

“Hi, sorry, I was..” Oh god, what could you say? “…away from the phone.” Not true, but telling your possible new beau that you were frozen with fear upon seeing his message seemed, well, lame.

“That’s ok.”

“You new here? I haven’t seen your profile before.”

“Yeah. I just signed up.”

“Does that mean I was your first choice? ;)”

You felt you should be honest after your previous fib, and answered immediately.

“ I just saw your profile and clicked it right away. I didn’t expect you to get back to me so soon.”

“Leave a beautiful Omega like you waiting? Not a chance, doll.”

Every word made the air grow thinner, making your head just swim in the rising heat that started to subtly overtake your body. It was such a new feeling to have warmth in your body feel so good.

Those three dots danced across his next speech bubble, and you waited every second for his next word.

“Have you ever been with an alpha before? I’d hate to come on too strong and scare you away.”

Your breath felt shallow before you answered truthfully. “No, I haven’t.”

There have only ever been two people you’ve given yourself to like that. Two particularly nice betas who just couldn’t help you as you needed, but tried anyway. Being with an Alpha seemed like so much more of a big deal, but the idea of a big, horny monster sinking their teeth into your flesh makes you start to hyperventilate. It was permanent, and you didn’t want to just throw away your forever to someone who could be cruel to you.

But something about this felt different. He looked so soft and kind, you could nearly feel his finger gently caressing your cheek as each word popped up on your screen. Something about this encounter felt safe.

You typed without thinking, letting the question fill the screen as anxiety ate away at the warmth that once sat in your belly. “Does that bother you?”

You waited for a response, watching those little dots until they disappeared without a new message. A solid minute felt like an eternity, and your heart sank further as each one ticked by.

You typed out a quick “I’m sorry," hoping you weren’t the one scaring him off instead with your lack of experience.

You breathed a sigh of relief as his response popped up. “Do not be sorry. There is no problem with wanting to wait.” Followed by another “I feel like a lucky guy.”

“I guess I’m just a little embarrassed; I’m glad it doesn’t bother you.” You typed away, fully engrossed in his attention.

“Don’t be; that kind of thing means more than you’d think in this day in age.”

It popped across your screen, giving you much-needed relief, only for the next message to set your nerves ablaze all over again.

“What made you decide to join the site?”

It popped over your screen faster than you could shoo it away. The reason for you was obvious after dragging yourself through that doctor's office. You needed help, and somehow that simple red flier had shown out to you like a beacon on a stormy shore.

You wanted to be honest, but some things felt better kept close to yourself than within the reach of others. You answered with the shallow truth.

“Dating can be difficult. I found the advertisement today and decided to check things out.” You tapped the enter button and sent the message, but your fingers continued to type. Maybe it was an attempt to keep his questions from probing into your answer even further, as you sent him an inquiry of your own.

“What about you? What made you decide to join the website?”

The laptop sat silently, aside from the whirring of its little fan. No bouncing dots, no indication of his response. Maybe his reasons were somehow more personal than your own.

You began to lose a little faith as the chat room continued to sit empty until his chat bubble finally popped up. Each second it took for the words to show was a second too long.

“I’d say it’s about the same. I guess I just wanted to try something different.”

“And how’s it working out so far?”

“I’d say, far better since you popped up.”

It was such a cliche line, but you loved it. You even laughed a little as you typed back.

“That fast, huh? It’s been less than a day "

“But you’ve already made my whole week.”

It brought an immediate smile to your rosy face. It was so fun—almost a fantasy. No danger, no recourse, no fear. You looked back at his little picture on the screen, his smiling face; it was a far cry from any other alpha already, and you hadn’t even seen him in the very flesh.

But it had been less than a day, and it was an obvious blow to this little oasis that had built around you in the matter of minutes. You didn’t want this moment to end, not when reality was waiting for you afterward.

The hours passed as you did each playful word with this ‘James’.

“I can’t wait to meet you, Omega.”

Your heart fluttered to an unnatural rhythm the moment it popped onto your screen.

"Omego,” you repeated his use of your denomination.

For a whole week, you could be the omega to his Alpha. You thought about the glamorous getaways your matchmaker had advertised. So you thought that, just maybe, that could be you.

Chapter 3

Tag List : @bethyruth-deactivated20231124 @scott-loki-barnes @wintrsoldrluvr

[noirbriar]

Glorestor: 5 Times They Denied (5)

+ 1 time They Did Not.

From the POVs of the various folks around the 2 elves who are convinced they are courting, or betrothed, even though they were told otherwise.

Take this messy thing that is nearing the end! Here is a short palate cleanser between meals with our favourite hobbit adventurer in retirement waiting to call you out on your BS.

Also one dedicated and spicy part to @tamilhobbit , you will know which one ;)

---

5] Bilbo Baggins

“Curious isn’t it?”

Curious would probably be the last thing Bilbo Baggins would choose to describe the sight before him.

In fact, this is quite possibly the last thing he had expected to see when Lord Elrond called for his sons, the twin young princes of Rivendell, to give him a tour around the Homely House.

The old adventurer has been here enough times to know his way around.Though Bilbo really thinks the Lord is simply trying to take the opportunity to keep his sons out of certain mischief. If that playful glint in their eyes are anything to go by. He has seen that bright glint in far, far, far too many young fauntlings and Frodo with his cousins to miss that look.

Retirement now suits Bilbo well in his opinion, now that he has taken one last adventure with dear Bofur and Nori and his young apprentice to ease that restlessness in him. Even if he finds himself unable to step into that magnificent mountain once more. With the conclusion of his last journey, he lays down his walking stick and have moved into the peaceful elven haven that has ensnared his heart long ago. In a few short days, the peaceful valley of Elrond Half-elven had done wonders to his exhausted and tired old soul.

Elladan and Elrohir settles beside him, leaning on the elegant railings along the high garden pavilion.The setting sun illuminating the Valley in golden light. They have shown him the great libraries, the council rooms and lovely gardens. Not forgetting the amazing kitchens and the wondrous Hall of Fire.

Yet he finds this one that they have wondrously called 'Rivendell’s Most Unbelievable Wonder Through The Ages' the most bizarre of all.

"I'm not sure how this is...a thing?" Bilbo gives the twins a wary eye, uncertain how he should feel about this with a willowy wave of his hand to gesture at whatever he is seeing before him.

In response, the twins' smiles grow wider and bright. Although the joy of the young Lords of Rivendell sends a dull wrenching twang into his heart. For once upon a time, he knew two young princes who shared the same bright smiles and playfulness in their eyes.

No, no, stop. Don't go back down that hole you silly old Baggins. Not here, not now.

“Oh, its a thing alright! Do not be deceived, Master BIlbo! Even if they deny it to this very day. In fact," at that point, Elladan draws nearer in a whisper, "every century, the whole House will update wagers on it."

"Aye! Isn't that right, Aerion?” Elrohir turns to ask the guardsman on duty nearby with a laugh. Even though said elven guard does not share the same mirthful sentiment with a careful look out of the corner of his eye to his young lords.

“Please don't bring me into this, my Lords. For I have no wish to have my guard duty extended by any means.” Elrohir and Elladan gave a loud laugh at that dry reply, which only serves to make the twins tease the tired guard even harder. Bilbo instead, takes the moment to watch on quietly as distant voices fade in the wind.

The two mighty guardians of Rivendell, Glorfindel and Erestor. Ephemeral and strong, walking alongside each other, gliding along the slender bridges by the waterfall gracefully like all of the elves seem to do. A serene scene of peace, as the golden haired elf bows down his head like a swan to allow his shorter companion to reach up and brush away the stray water droplets from his cheek. The fair Captain taking the opportunity to grasp those slender fingers, brushing a kiss on the back of the Chief Councillor's hand. His gentle lips lingering on soft skin. While the intimidating advisor simply indulges the balrog-salyer, allowing him his little whims.

The obviously private and tender moment brings forth another wave of old memories that Bilbo have laid to rest under rock and mountain, far in the East. Of a time long ago, almost as if it was yesterday, under the same setting sun. There upon the Carrock, where Bilbo once felt the warmth of another heart who had eyes that bore the colour of the endless sky.

No.

No,no,no. No reason to have those thoughts. He's gone, they are gone, its all in the past and he can do nothing to change that fact.

Bilbo shuts his eyes and smothers the beginnings of old memories resurfacing once more with his pain and regrets. Hands clenched in his empty coat pockets, grasping for the missing weight of his old trinket, before the old Hobbit simply sighs. He lets himself feel the sun on his skin, with the gentle air of Rivendell soothing his old soul, and he tries to breathe.

---

"-Oh and don't get me started on Court of the Vanyar! They make the Noldor Court seem simpler in comparison. It was all very stifling, to me at least, even when my family are only minor members of both Courts. Every clan had their own share of drama if I must say." Glorfindel shakes his head with a sigh, while focused on tidying his treasured trees. Their shapes lovingly sculpted and grown with painstaking care over the years in beautifully commissioned pots.

"Well, from what I have read about Finwe and his family, it very much reminded me of our own Hobbit families. Bothersome, is it not? It's probably the only thing I don't miss about the Shire. Especially the Sackville-Baggins! Oh, I do hope Frodo is dealing well with it all...But he's a smart lad, that he is!" Bilbo gives a small hum as he sips his cup of sweet hibiscus tea.

The tranquil garden and flora makes Bilbo feel at ease despite stressing over greatly early on being invited to tea in the Golden Lord's quarters. Much like their master, the many flowers in Glorfindel's private garden all bloom gracefully, beautiful and bright.

Glorfindel of Gondolin, Lindon, and now Imladris, had been an enigma. For it was only recently the hobbit had the chance to be acquainted with the legendary hero of song. Bilbo had not expected the balrog-slayer who have fought countless great wars to be this easy to get along. A very charming and animated ellon. His lively spirit shines like the light around him, golden and warm like the sun

The Captain too, had been curious about their newest resident and instantly felt connected to the hobbit once he saw Bilbo arrive into Rivendell with Sting tucked proudly by his side. The old Lord’s heart had gladden to find a relic of his past have landed into good hands. It was a little later they found that they had share a great love and interest for nature and tea, with the Lord keen in sharing his knowledge with the intriguing and scholarly second-born.

Looking at these lovely flowers is making Bilbo wonder how his own gardens in Bag End fair right now, but he knows young Samwise and the Gamgees are taking care of them well.

"To be honest I am not familiar, especially of Feanor's side. I was close to Fingolfin and Turgon only because my amil had been close to Lady Indis." At that Glorfindel seemed to pause and thought quietly for a minute with a thoughtful finger to his lips," Only Erestor would know, I suppose."

"The Chief Councillor? Was he truly close to Feanor and his sons as they say?" Bilbo pops a honey cake into his mouth, trying to remember the descendants of Finwe with as much accuracy as he could.

"Too young to know Feanor! Eres had served under Maedhros and Maglor, though he grew up in Thargelion under Caranthir. He's probably the only one left on this side of the Sea who knew all of Feanor's Sons and Celebrimbor. I don't recommend asking about it. It is, and remains... a difficult subject for him." With that Glorfindel lays down the tiny scissors in his hand, while brushing away any stray twigs.

"I noticed you both are very close, it is heartening to see such close bond you share." Bilbo quickly pours the ellon a cup of tea, who receives it gratefully. "Even if Lord Erestor seem to be a formidable individual to get along."

Indeed he was, for when the first time Bilbo had encountered the Lord, he was in a full blown rage at the apprentice scribes. The Hobbit just passing through the administrative halls with Lord Elrond when they hear Erestor berating the group of staff for a mistake with the invoices for timber and construction with heavy words. It was certainly quite an impression and a contrast to the Erestor he remembered seeing later on the bridge with Glorfindel. However, Bilbo has yet been able to make further acquaintance with the ever busy, and ever elusive advisor of Elrond.

"Oh, don't tell him I said this, Eres may look cold to all, but he's much like a chestnut! Prickly on the outside, but sweet on the inside! Even if he still refuses to help me trim these little ones while I'm on patrol!" Glorfidel gestures to his little trees that seem to be dancing in their pretty pots." Moving them into the shade is all he could do, he says! Is that not terrible? Said he did not want to water for fear of drowning them, which is very silly considering we are elves! These little ones can tell him how much water they require!"

The warrior and the hobbit laugh. Until Glorfindel turns to his flowers, caressing a celandine as the warrior's mood turns sombre.

"When all saw a flawless visage of an ideal Hero returned, it was only him who saw a broken soul who was made to fit a mould from the day he was born." Glorfindel admits quietly, as if its a shameful confession."I was so lost, so alone in all that noise. From Tirion to Gondolin and to Lindon...no one knew. Not even dear Ecthelion or Elgamoth. I realised later I had resented it."

Bilbo have no words as he watches Glorfindel's eyes glaze over, reminiscing of a time long past.

"I may be blessed by the Valar, but even I am no perfect being in Eru's Song. For that, I am grateful to have met Erestor in this second life, for he was the only one who dared called me out. He had opened my eyes, so that I can find the courage in myself… to simply be 'Glorfindel'. "

Bilbo froze, his teacup nearly slipping from his hand. A chill of deja-vu sends a chill down Bilbo's spine. A hand pulls up to his cravat while the other dug deep into his pocket with a tremble.

Fingers feeling a phantom touch of hands wrapped around an acorn and his own.The lingering touch of large warm palms that once laid hands on his bare neck burns. Of bloody hands full of calloused and scars growing cold in his own.

He snaps out of his thoughts just as quickly as it came. Foolish old Baggins! Old age has certainly muddled his mind. Best to have some tea to calm those damn thoughts as Glorfindel's voice began to grow clearer once more.

"-Well! He did punch my face in and then called me a friend and a 'fucking prideful twit and indecisive dick' all in the same breathe but-It was exhilarating!"

Bilbo spits out his tea.

---

-With a snarl, Mori makes a grab for Lote's hand, unwilling to let him leave. The Lord of the Moon tugs him back, pressing his full weight against the Lord of the Gardens against a tree, determined and unwilling to let his love flee once more. Eager lips crushing against the other in a hungry kiss. Each protest drowned out by the love they have as cries yearning for more fill the air.

Overcome by want and need, they tore their robes away, seeking for skin. To feel the other in desperation and assurance after everything, to join their souls once again.

In the midst of it all, the lovers have failed to notice the eyes of another watching them intently under the cover of emerald leaves. King Taur watches on, as he finally lets go, surrendering his desire to another who had claimed the heart of the mighty Lord. While the couple continue their passionate dance, as if nothing in this world mattered but the one in their arms-

"What are you reading that has captured your attention so, Bilbo?"

The old hobbit promptly snaps the book shut. A seemingly innocent leather bound novel in violet, with naught but a crescent moon and moonflower embossed artfully on the front. With a deep breath and some time to process what he have just read as years of proper, hobbitish decorum suppressed that undignified noise from his throat.

Which is ridiculous on second thought for he was a very old hobbit, not some young fauntling.

Bilbo then slowly tilts his head up to find Elrond watching him intently with a serene smile. The elf Lord of his new home who always seem to bear a soothing presence and eyes filled with wisdom of the ages.

"Good afternoon, Elrond! A pleasant day, is it not?" Bilbo greets, making light pleasantries to dispel any possible awkwardness present. All while scooting over from his spot on the garden bench."Come to enjoy the gardens too?"

"Well, I could use a break. At least, until Erestor hunts me down once more to peruse the trade agreement with Thranduil for the fifth time. Which is still five times too many, in my humble opinion. But do not tell him that." Elrond replies, shifting beside the hobbit comfortably, before he notices the innocent looking novel in his grasp. His dark eyes brightened at the sight of the cover.

"Ah,I see you have been reading one of Rivendell's most popular literary works. Long has it been since I have seen a new update! It is a rare collectable amongst those who live here, a book that appears in rare places, strangely enough. Celebrian had loved the series. She always did her best to seek out each new book to add to her collection." Elrond smiles, reaching a hand out to peek inside the pages.

"Oh, dear Elbereth! There is even illustrations now? How marvellous!"

"This? Truly?"Bilbo is baffled by Elrond's words and finds himself babbling on, a little embarrassed still to have been caught reading what was obviously a dramatic romantic saga.

"I just happened to be looking around your library, amazing collection, very impressive! Such splendid upkeep of history and culture, I daresay, even I'm inspired to pick up my quill to write something despite my procrastinations in translation of some lore! Oh what was I saying…Oh! Its just simply by sheer chance I spotted this book with such a lovely cover! Wonderful craft! It was tucked at the top. Awfully dreadful place, too high up, but Master Melpomaen was so very kind to help me get this. Although he did looked a little unusual and seemed a little reluctant to hand it over!"

"Of course. Considering this particular series is a contraband here."

Silence.

"I'm sorry but my ears seem to be failing me for I seem to not be hearing you quite clearly. Contraband? In Rivendell? For whatever reason could some simple romance literature be a 'contraband'?" Bilbo's fingers come up to do little gestures of a quote at the incredulous revelation, unable to wrap his head around the thought. A clearly ordinary romantic fiction, that is popular and well received by readers, a contraband in Rivendell where the greatest tomes and arts are to be found? Sounds rather foolish if you speak it aloud!

"Well, it is not banned, per say. More like its author is someone my Chief Councillor has been...eager, to meet for a very long time, to put it lightly." Elrond explains after a pause, only to receive a blank look from the gentlehobbit.

The robins chirp merrily and the tulips dances on while Bilbo blinks at the elven Lord.

"The main characters, do they not remind you of anyone?" Elrond tries again with a slight wave of his hand.

Actually, they do.

"Please do not tell me its Glorfindel and..."Bilbo takes a moment, "Lord Erestor."

"Ahhh, even an outsider has quickly caught on. Yes, that book has haunted my dear Councillor for many yeni. I am surprised to see the series surfacing once more and so soon this century." Elrond continues with an enthusiastic nod. Completely disregarding Bilbo's incredulous look and twitch of his nose while slowly processing the revelation as he studies the simple cover of the novel in amazement.

The sudden quiet rustling from the leaves above catches their attention.The elf and hobbit both look up.

Cold gold eyes peers down at them in a glower. The owl hoots balefully at the two.

"And very unfortunately, that is my cue to take my leave." The master of Rivendell mutters grimly before getting up with quick, silent steps. Not before he stops and back tracks a little after a short pause.

"Also, Bilbo, whenever you are done with that book, would you kindly let me have it?"

---

The stars glitter beautifully as a great fire burns brightly in the Hall of fire. The Captain is surrounded by his soldiers and a few of the Dunedain, playing a mannish drinking game involving some tavern songs with the minstrels joining in. Elrond on the other hand, did not looked too impressed that Elrohir and Elladan are playing along with some of the more bawdy ones.

However on the outer side of the Hall, Bilbo is unable to relax in the quiet corner despite the cheerful atmosphere. Even the lovely platter of cheeses and crackers on his lap cannot distract his scattered mind.

Lindir trills a jolly verse which ends with a round of laughter from all in the Hall. Meanwhile, his Baggins-ness demands him to ignore that implusive thought, even though the idea of leaving it alone does not sit well with Bilbo. It was a thought that has been nagging at him greatly for quite awhile yet it irks him to be so uncertain in how to address it.

Namely, to the one sitting right beside him.

Erestor seemed unbothered by the troubled hobbit beside him as he turns a page of Numenorian poetry in hand, occasionally picking up a berry dipped in sweet cream to nibble on with a delicate dessert fork from his plate. The perfect image of absolute control and composure.

His Tookish-ness finally bites.

"So, you and Glorfindel?"

Erestor pauses with his fork in mid-air and turns a side eye towards Bilbo. Observing in an almost unnerving silence. Before the Councillor lets out a heavy sigh, dropping his treat on his plate as if he is tired of answering the same old question repeatedly.

"We are not courting, if that is what you are asking." The quiet advisor replies flatly and then turns back to his book.

"Indeed, that is not."Bilbo takes a deep breath," rather, why are you both not? Its rather obvious you both are together if not, in love."

Erestor stills. The elf now turns his attention completely to the old hobbit. His silvery green eyes sharp and cold. Bilbo sees. This is not just any elf before him, but one who has seen far more bloodshed and violence, loss and sorrow, than a mere hobbit.

Yet Bilbo Baggins, previously of the Shire and of Bag End, is unfazed by this stern ellon's gaze. For nothing will ever compare to the cold eyes of stone glazed in cold molten gold. Not even the great piercing stare of an evil fire drake that towered over a gentlehobbit of the Shire. All the dreadful and cruel things, and all bearing the promises of fire and death.

"And what would you know of love, Master Bilbo?" The words are delivered quietly, piercing sharp like blades. Though not with disdain, but with cautious care. A true politician.

"I know because I had loved once, Lord Councillor." Bilbo leans his chin on his hand and gives a tired smile, slowly turning to stare into the fiery glow of the fire in the hall instead. As if the flames are burning him with old memories with snarls of wargs and the silhouette of the Pale Orc looming ahead. Of dragon fire and dwarrow leading a charge. Of a King fighting to the bitter end.

Of a beloved sitting close by his side in the quiet of night by the lake over the autumn moonlight.Warm, gentle hands beside his own.

"Love, I did." Bilbo continues to smile wistfully, reaching for those beloved memories that have kept calling out to him at long last, "And I will never again, at least until I find the Halls of Mahal."

Erestor turns fully now towards his companion, and Bilbo can feel the elf watching him with an unreadable gaze. Before he hears the shuffling of pages and a book being closed.

The laughter of men and elves resounds.

"Did they not know?"

"No.No... I never told him, even at the very end. Out of foolish hopes and denial I suppose. Afterall, what is a simple hobbit hoping to do, standing next to a King who bears a great legacy?" Bilbo lets out a helpless laugh as he wills the prickling in his eyes away.

"And why should a hobbit who bested a dragon not stand beside a King?" Erestor pushes on, seeking to understand the dilemma.

"Then why should two elven Lords of a great realm and esteem standing not be together in all sense of the word?" Bilbo counters.

There is no proper response as the two stare at the other, while the merry making crowd continues to sing.

"Its not that simple." Erestor finally whispers as he turns his eyes towards the dancing fire, where the soldiers are dancing to the beat. It was barely loud enough for Bilbo to catch on.

"Not if you keep overcomplicating it? To be alive, to be able eat and to drink and cheer and to feel the grass and stone beneath your toes with someone by your side... why worry about uncertain sorrow you have made for yourself?" Bilbo replies, before going on softly.

"Far better be it to love with your all now, even just once, then to regret what may be when its all too late. Time waits for no one, not even immortals."

The old adventurer stands, pushing away the plate of snacks to the elf and gives a slight nod, taking his leave. Erestor's eyes linger on, following the old hobbit as he walks away as laughter echoes on into the quiet of the night.

---

After he retires back into his room, Bilbo sits at his hobbit sized desk, watching Earendil glowing high above Rivendell.

Time is cruel. Time is fickle. But time will not stop him from meeting the One he loves again at the end of this winding road. Until then...he will not forget the gift he has been granted, walking out of his round green door.

The hobbit turns and looks at the crimson red leather journal in the corner of his desk. Old wrinkled fingers trailing along, tracing the texture of its leather cover. The bright laughter of two princes echoes in his mind with old friends, with the deep tenor of a beloved singing of home.

Bilbo dips a quill into ink as he begins to write.

---

A/N: When all else fails, always trust your resident Hobbit who has yet to address his deep PTSD.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

[magnolia-among-the-stars]

Dear August (Bradley Bradshaw pt. 2)

Summary: You and Bradley have been best friends since college and when he was stationed in North Island, you were thrilled that he would be back in your life. When things start to sour with Bradley’s girlfriend and she breaks things off, Bradley comes to you for drunken comfort. What happens when an accidental hookup brings along an unexpected positive pregnancy test threatens the state of your friendship?

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five

Tropes: friends to lovers, unexpected pregnancy, unrequited feelings

Word Count: 1600+

It was not fine as it turned out. As the bar began to get more and more crowded, Bradley disappeared from the pool table. You saw flickers of his torso across the hectic space, a flash or two of her bright eyes and braided hair as the two danced around each other. As you sat with Jake and Rueben, trying to keep your eyes on the intense match between Bob and Mickey at the dart board.

“You’re staring,” Jake says, his twang punching through the ringing buzz in your ear. You slide your elbows from the oak table and sigh, drowning the rest of your corona. “You gotta stop staring.”

“I didn’t want to come tonight,” you respond back, eyes steady on the couple collecting at a round table a few groups away. Bradley’s hand gestures are rapid, and Jenny is still. It makes you swallow.

“I would say I tried to stop it,” the man huffs out and adjusts his collar of his crisp white button up. Jake’s hair is grown out, a bit shaggy but it looks so soft as he searches your face. His arm, tucked on the back of the chair behind you, readjusts. His palm is warm as he gently touches your back, rubbing it in soothing circles. “You know how Rooster gets about you.”

And that was the crazy thing. Bradley had always been the one with the girlfriend. Always a female dotting around and following the suave, tanned pilot no matter how many Hawaiian shirts he draped along his body. Still, it didn’t matter when it came to his jealous of your attention, the aggressive fight for your time. Here was Jake, a handsome and admirable man. He was a man who easily could be persuaded into adorable dates and early morning coffee in bed, but you never would do that. All because of Bradley.

“Maybe we should date,” I mumble, finally turning to look into his forest green eyes. I find comfort there, a trust. But there is something else too and after a moment, I know he sees it too. Pure and genuine friendship. The comment makes a chuckle ripple out of his chest.

“We’ve tried that Dukes and we both know where your heart stands.” You nod, swallowing down the truth with a dry tongue. Your throat gets a bit itchy, skin scratchy as discomfort swarms your chest. It’s then that you notice the conversation between Bradley and Jenny has gone stale from the looks of it, the two-standing next to each other in silence as Bradley drowns his beer.

“What’s the acceptable rate of approval for getting shit faced tonight?” you ask Jake, turning to pay attention as Bob hits a bullseye.

“Mmmm,” Jake grins wickedly, closing an eye to evaluate the situation at play. “7/8 approval.”

“Magnificent,” you say, sliding off the chair to congratulate Bob on his win with your arms wide. You cheer for him for a second before heading to the bar to grab yourself a whiskey and Bob a root beer. Jimmy is only a second into pouring your double when a heavy weight plop down beside you at the bar top. You know the weight of the man before you see him, his mustache hairs curled in the wrong direction and fingernails scrapping along the varnish of the counter absentmindedly.

“You alright?” you ask him without looking, holding up two fingers to Jimmy. He nods and begins to pour another glass of bourbon.

“She broke things off,” Bradley’s voice shakes as he takes a shallow breath. When you finally get a good look at him, you can see how broken he looks. You step into his space, tugging him to you as he tries and falls to stop the tears.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and you mean it, genuinely. Bradley thought Jenny was the one, just weeks ago dragging you with him to go looking for engagement rings. “Here,” you slide the drink over in front of him when he loosens his grip slightly.

“Thought you didn’t want get drunk tonight,” Bradley grumbles, his fingertips playing with the hem of your sleeve.

“My best friend needs me.”

Hours pass as the liquor flows through your veins and clouds your judgement as you continue to take shots and down glasses of whiskey together. Into the late hours of the night, you find your senses loosen and your filters shutting down as your arms twirl around Bradley’s thick waist tightly. Your cheek rests along the bulging of his strong bicep, on his tanned chest as he hums to the jukebox and spins you around between the chairs and the pool table.

Javy and Jake look on with knowing eyes at the two of you and being the drunk that you are, you stick your tongue out at the men in a meager attempt to silence their thoughts…they were too loud. You could feel Bradley’s hot breath wash over the bare skin of your shoulders, your knit sweater long forgotten on the back of some chair.

“We’re way too drunk,” Bradley’s voice is slightly higher pitched, his large hands squeezing the flesh of your hips while he tucks his head into the apex of your neck.

“Mmmmhmmm,” you agree, eyes sliding shut as you take in his aura and soaking up how close he is. “Feels needed,” you murmur as your head spins, enjoying the feeling. When you open your eyes, his brown eyes are there and he’s staring back at you. His gaze is warm and endearing as a stretch of a lazy smile creeps onto his face. You could the freckles on his cheeks, getting distracted by the beauty of his scars and the flush pink of his full lips. “You’re beautiful Bradley,” you breath and he swallows a shaky breath.

“It’s time to go,” he chuckles as the world feels like it’s spinning now, just the two of you existing on North Island, “You’re talking nonsense.”

“I am not. You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” He’s staring at you now, eyes narrowed as he searches your face for the butt of the joke, the punchline about to drop. But he comes up short, because there’s nothing more than truth and sincerity in the lines of your smile and the crinkle of your nose.

“We should go home,” Bradley’s breathless as his hand scampers down your side until he is scooping up yours. You stumble on your feet due to the ease of his long legs moving quickly through the bar. You barely register saying goodbye to the boys or paying out at Penny’s register. The cool, nighttime air washes over you however and soothes your cheeks as you turn left out of the door and down the street to Bradley’s beach house.

The walk feels both swift and everlasting, even though its only minutes until you’re climbing the stairs of his porch. It’s only then that he lets go of your sweaty hand to dig out his keys from his pocket. His brows raise as he continues to dig through his jeans and pats himself down. “Shit,” he grunts as he turns slightly around, doing a 180 before he looks at you.

“What?”

“I can’t find my keys,” his voice is a little far away as you lean up against the railing, your cheek smushed against the wooden banister.

“Oh no,” you pout, before eyeing the open window overlooking the kitchen sink a few yards away. Fits of laughter roll through the both of you when you find yourself scooped up on his shoulder as you try to nudge the window further open. “Bradley, stable, stable,” you mutter, tugging his curls slightly to steady yourself.

He’s giggling; a giraffe on their hind legs as he raises you up more until you can clutch onto the frame and pull yourself into the house. You slid into the sink, a wet spot growing on your ass cheek as your feet hit the linoleum tiles. “We did it,” you scream happily, cheering and raising your fists.

“Open the door Daisy,” your nickname rings out from below the window, and you jump toward the front door, forgetting Bradley momentarily. You fumble to unlock the door, tugging it open to see the big goof barrel through the door and tackle you to the ground. A squeal escapes you when your back lands on the floor, as gently as the man can muster and bursting out in laughter as you roll around.

You’re a heap of giggles on the floor, the two of you basking in the afterglow of booze and glowing moments until you glance over to see the twinkle in his eye. Slowly, your laughter dies down as you take in his existence and breath him in. You reach up to brush a curl out of his eyes, not knowing how close your faces were to each other until he’s leaning in. And you’re meeting him halfway, grazing your mouth along his in a methodical test. You pull back, frightened by the action but not having enough time to consider the consequences because he’s sliding you across the floor and onto his thighs.

His fingers are running through your hair and knotting in the curls while his hips are pressing up into you for friction. There’s no time to think or question yourself when he feels too good, when it feels like a dream. It’s all a messy blur of crumbled clothes being dragged off each other and bruised lips peppering each other’s bodies. You fall asleep that night in a naked haze of sweat and panting breathes, the glowing of the moon radiant against your skin.

Taglist:

@briseisgone

@emma8895eb

@rachkon

@senjoritanana

@shanimallina87

@luckyladycreator2

@ceilingfann

@rosiahills22

@child-of-sunshine

@callsign-scully

@hopefulinlove

@cevans-winchester

@double-j

@blue-aconite

@callsign-hummingbird

@romanoff13-blog-BLOG

@rosiahills22

@kajjaka

@sylviaes99

@chaoticassidy

@child-of-of-the-sunshine

@memoriesat30

@seresinsweetie

@genius2050

[naoyaslut]

Maybe Next Time Part 2

pairings: miya atsumu x fem reader

wordcount: 6,6k

warnings: charming atsumu, flirty atsumu, atsumu being atsumu, fear of butterflies, wholesome, flirty, dating action

a/n: part two of maybe next time~ this is a long one.

synopsis: in which you run into atsumu a second time and he convinces you to go on a date with him. Part one can be read here:

Part 1 // Ao3 - Maybe Next Time

And that wasn't the last time you crossed paths with Atsumu Miya. The following week, as the bell rang to signal the end of class, you gathered your belongings and made your way towards the door, surrounded by your chattering classmates. As you stepped out into the bustling corridor, your foot caught on a loose tile and you stumbled forward, sending your textbook tumbling across the floor. It slid straight towards someone's back, disrupting their conversation with a girl they were flirting with. Their attention was immediately drawn to the book lying at their feet, and then up to meet your apologetic gaze.

Your eyes widened as you locked gazes with none other than Atsumu Miya. His golden-brown eyes sparkled with recognition, a slow grin spreading across his face as he bent to retrieve your fallen textbook. The girl he'd been talking to faded into the background, completely forgotten as Atsumu's attention zeroed in on you with laser-like focus.

"Well, well," he drawled, that hint of a southern twang coloring his words. "Looks like fate's determined to throw us together, pretty."

He sauntered towards you, your textbook held out like an offering. The corridor seemed to narrow, the bustling crowd of students fading away until it felt like just the two of you existed in that moment. Atsumu's presence was magnetic, drawing you in despite your better judgment.

"I believe you owe me something," he said, quirking an eyebrow.

You felt your cheeks flush as Atsumu approached, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. You reached out to take your textbook, but he pulled it back at the last second, holding it just out of reach.

"Ah ah," he tsked, wagging a finger. "Not so fast. I believe we had a deal, pretty."

You rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart rate had picked up. "I said if I ever saw you again, not the next time. There's a difference."

Atsumu's grin only widened. "Semantics. Come on now, don't be shy. I've been dying to put a name to that beautiful face."

Against your better judgment, you found yourself fighting back a smile. His persistence was oddly charming, in an annoying sort of way.

You sighed dramatically, holding out your hand for your textbook. "Fine. It's [Y/N]. Happy now?"

Atsumu's eyes lit up as he savored your name, repeating it softly. "[Y/N]," he said, testing how it felt on his tongue. "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

He handed over your textbook, but not before letting his fingers brush against yours deliberately. The brief contact sent a jolt through you that you tried desperately to ignore.

"Well, now that we're properly introduced," Atsumu continued, leaning casually against the wall beside you, "how about we grab a coffee? I'd love to get to know you better, [Y/N]."

You clutched your textbook to your chest, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm actually running late for my next class."

Atsumu's smile didn't falter. "Rain check then? I'm not letting you slip away that easily, [Y/N]."

You bit your lip, torn between curiosity and caution. "Maybe. We'll see."

As you turned to leave, Atsumu called out, "I'll be at the campus coffee shop tomorrow at 3. Just in case you change your mind."

You glanced back, seeing that infuriating smirk still in place. With a noncommittal shrug, you hurried off to your next class, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing.

The next day, you found yourself hesitating outside the campus coffee shop at 2:55 pm.

You stood outside the coffee shop, your hand hovering over the door handle. Part of you wanted to turn around and walk away, to avoid getting entangled with someone like Atsumu Miya. But another part of you, a part you were trying desperately to ignore, was intrigued.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and stepped inside. The rich aroma of coffee enveloped you as your eyes scanned the shop. There, in a corner booth, sat Atsumu. His golden hair caught the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window, giving him an almost ethereal glow. As if sensing your presence, he looked up and locked eyes with you, that trademark smirk spreading across his face.

You approached his table, trying to appear nonchalant despite the nervous flutter in your stomach. "Fancy meeting you here," you said dryly.

Atsumu's eyes lit up as you approached, his smirk transforming into a genuine smile. "Well, well. Look who decided to grace me with her presence after all." He gestured to the seat across from him. "I was starting to think you might stand me up."

You slid into the booth, setting your bag beside you. "I was tempted," you admitted. "But curiosity got the better of me."

"Curiosity about little old me?" Atsumu placed a hand over his heart in mock surprise. "I'm flattered."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't quite suppress the smile tugging at your lips. "Don't let it go to your head. I'm just here for the coffee."

"Of course," Atsumu nodded solemnly, though his eyes danced with amusement. He waved over a waitress. "What's your poison, [Y/N]?"

"Just a latte, please," you told the waitress.

"Make that two," Atsumu added with a wink. As the waitress walked away, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "So, [Y/N], tell me something about yourself that would surprise me."

You raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I want to surprise you?"

Atsumu's grin widened. "Because you're here, aren't you? Despite your better judgment,”

You couldn't help but smile at his boldness. "Fair point. Alright, let's see..." You tapped your chin thoughtfully. "I'm actually a competitive rock climber. I've been doing it since I was a kid."

Atsumu's eyebrows shot up, genuine surprise crossing his features. "No kidding? That's pretty badass. I wouldn't have pegged you for an adrenaline junkie."

"There's a lot you don't know about me," you replied with a sly smile.

"I'm looking forward to finding out," Atsumu said, his voice low and intense. The way he looked at you made your breath catch in your throat.

The waitress arrived with your lattes, breaking the moment. You wrapped your hands around the warm mug, grateful for the distraction.

"So, volleyball star," you said after taking a sip. "Tell me something about yourself that would surprise me."

Atsumu leaned back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Hmm, let's see..." He drummed his fingers on the table, then snapped them. "Got it. I'm actually terrified of butterflies."

You nearly choked on your latte. "Butterflies? You're joking."

"Wish I was," Atsumu said with a self-deprecating chuckle. "Something about those fluttering wings just creeps me out. My twin brother Osamu never lets me live it down."

You couldn't help but laugh. "The big, bad volleyball player, brought down by a butterfly. That's priceless."

"Hey now, don't go spreading that around campus," Atsumu warned, but his eyes were twinkling with amusement. "I've got a reputation to uphold, you know."

You mimed zipping your lips. "Your secret's safe with me. Though I might need to keep that information in my back pocket, just in case."

"In case of what?" Atsumu leaned forward, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Planning on using it against me someday, [Y/N]?"

The way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine. You took another sip of your latte to hide your reaction. "Maybe. A girl's got to have some leverage."

Atsumu chuckled, a deep, rich sound that seemed to reverberate through you. "I like the way you think. Clever and beautiful – a dangerous combination,”

As your coffee date drew to a close, you found yourself reluctant to leave. The easy banter and surprising depth of conversation with Atsumu had been unexpectedly enjoyable. You'd discussed everything from your respective sports to favorite books and movies, discovering a shared love of true crime documentaries and spicy food.

"Well, I hate to cut this short," you said, glancing at your watch, "but I've got a study group in twenty minutes."

Atsumu's face fell slightly, but he quickly masked it with a smile. "Time flies when you're having fun, huh? Thanks for giving me a chance, [Y/N]. I had a great time."

You hesitated for a moment, then pulled out your phone. "You know, we should probably exchange numbers. You know, in case I need to warn you about any butterfly sightings on campus."

Atsumu's eyes lit up, a grin spreading across his face. "Well, aren't you just full of surprises? Here I thought I'd have to work a lot harder to get your number."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress your own smile. "Don't let it go to your head. It's purely for butterfly-related emergencies."

As you exchanged numbers, your fingers brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through you. You quickly pulled your hand back, hoping he hadn't noticed your reaction.

"Well, [Y/N]," Atsumu said, standing up as you gathered your things. "It's been a pleasure. I look forward to our next... butterfly emergency."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Part of my charm," he winked, holding the door open for you as you exited.

As you exited the coffee shop, Atsumu fell into step beside you. The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the campus, making his blonde hair shine like spun gold. You were acutely aware of his presence, the subtle scent of his cologne teasing your senses.

"So," Atsumu drawled, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, "about that next butterfly emergency..."

You raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. "Oh? And when exactly do you expect that to happen?"

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, you never know. Those pesky insects could strike at any moment. We should probably have a plan in place. Maybe dinner tomorrow night?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his persistence. "Smooth, Miya. Very smooth."

"I try," he shrugged.

As you walked towards your study group, you found yourself actually considering Atsumu's dinner invitation. There was something undeniably charming about him, despite his reputation as a fuckboy.

"I'll think about it," you said finally, stopping as you reached the library steps. "But no promises."

Atsumu's grin widened. "I'll take it. You won't regret it if you say yes, [Y/N]. I promise to keep the butterfly talk to a minimum."

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress a smile. "Goodbye, Atsumu," you said, turning to head into the library.

"Until next time, [Y/N]," he called after you.

As you settled into your study group, you found your thoughts drifting back to your coffee date with Atsumu. His easy charm and surprising depth had caught you off guard. You tried to focus on your textbook, but images of his golden hair and mischievous smirk kept intruding.

"Earth to [Y/N]," your friend Mei waved a hand in front of your face. "Where'd you go just now?"

You blinked, shaking your head to clear it. "Sorry, just... distracted."

Mei's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Uh-huh. This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain blonde volleyball player, would it?"

Heat rushed to your cheeks. "What? No, of course not."

"Mhmm," Mei hummed, clearly unconvinced. "Spill. I saw you two coming out of the coffee shop earlier. Since when are you hanging out with Atsumu Miya?"

You sighed, knowing there was no point in trying to hide it from your perceptive friend. "It was just coffee. We ran into each other yesterday and he asked me out. I was curious, that's all."

Mei's eyes widened. "Curious? Girl, do you know how many girls would kill to be in your shoes right now? Atsumu Miya is like, the hottest guy on campus."

You rolled your eyes. "He's also got a reputation as a major player. I'm not looking to be another notch on his bedpost."

"But...?" Mei prompted, sensing your hesitation.

You bit your lip. "But..." you hesitated, trying to find the right words. "He surprised me. There's more to him than just the cocky athlete everyone sees. He's actually kind of...charming."

Mei squealed, earning a harsh "Shh!" from the librarian. She lowered her voice to an excited whisper. "I knew it! You like him!"

You felt your cheeks flush. "I didn't say that. I just...I don't know. Maybe I misjudged him."

"So are you going to see him again?" Mei pressed, leaning in eagerly.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "He asked me to dinner tomorrow night."

"And?" Mei was practically bouncing in her seat.

"And I said I'd think about it," you admitted.

Mei groaned. "Girl, what is there to think about?”

"Plenty," you hissed, glancing around to make sure no one else was listening. "Look, I know Atsumu has a reputation. I can't just ignore that."

Mei rolled her eyes. "People change, you know. Maybe he's genuinely interested in you."

You chewed your lip, considering her words. "Maybe. But what if I'm just setting myself up to get hurt?"

"What if you're not?" Mei countered. "Come on, [Y/N]. When's the last time you took a chance on someone? You deserve to have some fun."

You sighed, knowing she had a point. It had been a while since you'd let yourself get close to anyone romantically. The fear of getting hurt had kept you guarded, but maybe it was time to take a risk.

"Fine," you relented. "I'll text him after this and say yes to dinner."

Mei squealed again, earning another glare from the librarian. "Yes! You won't regret it, I promise."

You tried to focus on studying for the next hour, but your mind kept drifting to thoughts of Atsumu and your upcoming dinner date. When the study session finally ended, you pulled out your phone with shaky hands.

[Y/N]: Hey, about that dinner tomorrow... I'm in if the offer still stands.

You hit send before you could second-guess yourself. Almost immediately, three dots appeared, indicating Atsumu was typing a response.

Atsumu's reply came through almost instantly:

[Atsumu]: Offer definitely still stands. I was hoping you'd say yes. Pick you up at 7?

You couldn't help but smile at his eagerness.

[Y/N]: Sounds good. Where are we going?

[Atsumu]: It's a surprise. Wear something nice ;)

You rolled your eyes at the winking emoji, but felt a flutter of excitement in your stomach.

[Y/N]: Mysterious. Alright, I'll play along. See you at 7.

[Atsumu]: Can't wait :)

You put your phone away, trying to ignore the way your heart was racing. What had you gotten yourself into?

The next evening, you found yourself standing in front of your closet, agonizing over what to wear. Mei had insisted on coming over to help you get ready, and she was currently sprawled across your bed, flipping through a fashion magazine.

"What about that little black dress?" Mei suggested, not looking up from her magazine.

You pulled out the dress in question, holding it up to your body as you looked in the mirror. "I don't know... isn't it a bit much for a first date?"

Mei finally looked up, raising an eyebrow. "He said to wear something nice, didn't he? Trust me, that dress is perfect. You'll knock his socks off."

You bit your lip, considering. The dress was certainly flattering, hugging your curves in all the right places. But it also felt like a statement - like you were expecting something to happen.

"Come on!” Mei cheered.

You hesitated for a moment longer before deciding to take the plunge. "Alright, the black dress it is," you said, slipping it on. The silky fabric felt cool against your skin as you smoothed it down.

Mei let out a low whistle. "Damn girl, you look hot. Atsumu won't know what hit him."

You rolled your eyes but couldn't help smiling at your reflection. The dress did look good, hugging your curves in all the right places. You paired it with some strappy heels and simple jewelry, not wanting to overdo it.

As you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup, your phone buzzed with a text.

[Atsumu]: On my way. Can't wait to see you :)

Your stomach fluttered with nervous excitement. This was really happening.

"He's on his way," you told Mei.

You took one last look in the mirror, smoothing down your dress and taking a deep breath. Mei gave you an encouraging thumbs up as you grabbed your purse and headed downstairs to wait for Atsumu.

A few minutes later, you heard a car pull up outside. Your heart raced as you peeked out the window, seeing Atsumu step out of a sleek black sports car. He was dressed in dark slacks and a crisp white button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned forearms. His blonde hair was artfully tousled, and he carried a small bouquet of flowers.

You opened the door just as he was about to knock, catching him by surprise. His eyes widened as he took in your appearance, his gaze trailing slowly from your heels up to your face.

"Wow," he breathed, a genuine smile replacing his usual smirk. "You look absolutely stunning, [Y/N]."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his intense gaze. "Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself."

Atsumu chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "I try. Oh, these are for you," he said, holding out the bouquet of flowers.

You took them, inhaling their sweet scent. "They're beautiful. Thank you."

"Not as beautiful as you," Atsumu said softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You rolled your eyes playfully, trying to ignore the way your heart fluttered at his words. "Smooth talker. Let me just put these in water and we can go."

As you turned to head back inside, you caught sight of Mei peeking around the corner, giving you an enthusiastic thumbs up. You shot her a warning glare before quickly putting the flowers in a vase.

When you returned, Atsumu was leaning casually against his car, looking like he'd stepped out of a magazine. He straightened up as you approached, opening the passenger door for you with a flourish.

"Your chariot awaits, my lady," he said with an exaggerated bow.

You laughed, sliding into the leather seat. "Such a gentleman. Who knew?"

Atsumu grinned as he got in the driver's side. "I'm full of surprises."

As he pulled away from the curb, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness flutter in your stomach. "So, are you going to tell me where we're going?"

"Nope," Atsumu said, popping the 'p' with a mischievous grin. "Just sit back and enjoy the ride."

As Atsumu navigated through the city streets, you found yourself relaxing into easy conversation. He asked about your classes, your rock climbing, your family - seeming genuinely interested in your answers. In turn, you learned more about his volleyball career, his relationship with his twin brother, and his childhood in the countryside.

Before you knew it, Atsumu was pulling into a parking lot near the waterfront. "We're here," he announced, killing the engine.

You looked around curiously. "Where exactly is 'here'?"

Atsumu just winked, coming around to open your door. "You'll see."

He offered his hand to help you out of the car, and you took it, trying to ignore the spark that shot through you at his touch.

As you stepped onto the sidewalk, Atsumu kept hold of your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. The gesture felt surprisingly natural, and you found yourself not wanting to let go.

He led you down a cobblestone path that wound along the waterfront. The sun was just beginning to set, casting a warm glow over the harbor and bathing everything in golden light. The air was crisp and salty, carrying the faint sound of lapping waves and distant seagulls.

"It's beautiful here," you murmured, taking in the scenery.

Atsumu smiled, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. "Just wait, it gets better."

As you rounded a bend in the path, you saw a small, elegant restaurant nestled against the rocks. Its patio extended out over the water on stilts, strings of twinkling lights crisscrossing overhead.

You gasped softly as you took in the romantic scene. "Wow, Atsumu. This is... incredible."

He grinned, looking pleased with your reaction. "I hoped you'd like it. It's a bit of a hidden gem - not many people know about it."

As you approached the restaurant, a smiling hostess greeted you. "Mr. Miya, your table is ready. Right this way, please."

Atsumu guided you onto the patio, his hand resting lightly on the small of your back. The hostess led you to a secluded table at the far end of the deck, offering a breathtaking view of the harbor and the setting sun.

"This is perfect," you said as Atsumu pulled out your chair. "How did you find this place?"

He sat across from you, his eyes twinkling in the soft lighting.

"I stumbled upon it by accident a few months ago," Atsumu explained, a fond smile playing on his lips. "I was out for a run along the waterfront and got a bit turned around. Ended up here just as the sun was setting. I knew I had to come back someday with someone special."

His gaze held yours intensely as he said those last words, making your breath catch. You quickly picked up your menu, needing a moment to compose yourself.

"The seafood here is incredible," Atsumu continued, seemingly unaware of the effect he was having on you. "I'd recommend the grilled octopus as a starter."

You nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "Sounds perfect."

As you perused the menu, a waiter appeared to take your drink orders. Atsumu ordered a bottle of white wine for the table, glancing at you.

You nodded your approval at Atsumu's wine selection, impressed by his knowledge. As the waiter poured your glasses, you took a moment to really look at Atsumu in the soft lighting. The golden glow of the setting sun highlighted his chiseled features, making his eyes sparkle. You found yourself getting lost in those warm brown depths.

"See something you like?" Atsumu teased, catching you staring.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks but decided to own it. "Maybe," you replied with a coy smile. "The view is pretty spectacular."

Atsumu's eyes widened slightly, clearly not expecting your boldness. A slow grin spread across his face. "It certainly is," he said softly, his gaze never leaving yours.

The intensity of the moment was broken by the waiter returning to take your order.

You both opted for the grilled octopus starter, followed by the chef's special seafood risotto for you and the seared scallops for Atsumu. As you waited for your food, the conversation flowed easily between you.

"So, tell me more about your rock climbing," Atsumu said, leaning forward with genuine interest. "How did you get into it?"

You smiled, always happy to talk about your passion. "My dad introduced me to it when I was little. We used to go on camping trips, and he'd take me bouldering. I just fell in love with the challenge, the adrenaline rush. It's like solving a puzzle with your whole body."

Atsumu nodded, looking impressed. "That's amazing. I can definitely relate to that feeling - it's similar to what I experience on the volleyball court. That moment when everything just clicks and you're in perfect sync with your body and the game."

You nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! It's like you become one with the rock face, or in your case, the volleyball. Everything else just fades away."

"I'd love to see you climb sometime," Atsumu said, his eyes twinkling. "Maybe you could give me a lesson?"

You laughed, picturing the tall, muscular volleyball player trying to navigate a bouldering wall. "I don't know, are you sure you can handle it? It's a lot different from volleyball."

Atsumu leaned back, a cocky grin spreading across his face. "Oh, I think I can handle anything you throw at me, [Y/N]."

The way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine. You were saved from having to respond by the arrival of your appetizers.

The grilled octopus was perfectly tender, complemented by a tangy lemon sauce. You savored each bite, impressed by Atsumu's recommendation.

"This is delicious," you said, gesturing to the dish with your fork. "You weren't kidding about the seafood here."

Atsumu smiled, looking pleased. "I'm glad you like it. I have to admit, I was a bit nervous about bringing you here. I wanted everything to be perfect."

His admission of nervousness surprised you. It was hard to imagine the confident volleyball star being anxious about anything, let alone a date with you.

"Really?" you asked, tilting your head curiously. "You seemed so sure of yourself when you asked me out."

Atsumu chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Well, I didn't want to show how nervous I actually was. To be honest, I've been wanting to ask you out for a while now."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise. "Really? But we barely knew each other before the other day."

"I noticed you around campus," Atsumu admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly. "You caught my eye in the library a few times. And I may have asked around about you a bit."

You felt a flutter in your stomach at his words. The idea that he had been interested in you from afar was surprisingly flattering.

"So that's why you seemed so prepared when we ran into each other," you mused. "Here I thought it was just your natural charm."

Atsumu grinned, some of his usual confidence returning. "

As you finished the last bites of your delectable seafood risotto, you couldn't help but marvel at how the evening had unfolded. The food had been exquisite, the ambiance romantic, and the company... unexpectedly captivating. Atsumu had surprised you at every turn, revealing layers of depth and charm that you hadn't anticipated.

The waiter cleared your plates and Atsumu declined the dessert menu with a mysterious smile. "I've got something else in mind for dessert," he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

Intrigued, you followed him as he led you back along the waterfront. The sun had fully set now, and the path was illuminated by soft streetlights. The air had cooled, and you shivered slightly in your dress.

Without missing a beat, Atsumu shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. The warmth of the fabric, still carrying his scent, enveloped you.

"Thank you," you murmured, pulling the jacket tighter around you.

Atsumu smiled softly, his hand finding yours again as you walked. "My pleasure."

You strolled in comfortable silence for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere and the gentle lapping of waves against the shore. Finally, your curiosity got the better of you.

"So, are you going to tell me where we're going for this mysterious dessert?"

Atsumu's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Patience, [Y/N]. We're almost there."

As you rounded a corner, you saw a small ice cream stand nestled between two buildings. It was a quaint little place, with a striped awning and twinkling fairy lights strung around the window. A hand-painted sign proclaimed it to be "Nana's Gelato."

"Ice cream?" you asked, unable to keep the smile from your face.

Atsumu grinned, looking pleased with your reaction. "Not just any ice cream. Nana makes the best gelato in the city. It's a local secret."

As you approached the stand, an elderly woman with kind eyes and a warm smile greeted you. "Atsumu, my dear boy! It's been too long since you've visited."

"Hi Nana," Atsumu said, leaning over the counter to give her a quick peck on the cheek. "I've brought someone special to try your famous gelato."

Nana's eyes twinkled as she turned her gaze to you. "Oh my, she is lovely. You've done well, Atsumu."

You felt your cheeks flush at the compliment. Atsumu squeezed your hand gently, a soft smile playing on his lips.

"[Y/N], this is Nana. She makes the best gelato in the world," Atsumu introduced you.

"It's nice to meet you, Nana," you said warmly. "Atsumu's been raving about your gelato."

Nana chuckled. "Well, let's see if it lives up to the hype, shall we?”

Nana began scooping generous portions of various flavors into small cups, encouraging you both to try as many as you liked. You sampled creamy pistachio, rich dark chocolate, and tangy lemon sorbet. Each flavor was more delicious than the last.

"Oh my god," you moaned after tasting the stracciatella. "This really is the best gelato I've ever had."

Atsumu grinned triumphantly. "Told you. Nana's gelato is legendary."

After much deliberation, you settled on a scoop of hazelnut and one of salted caramel. Atsumu chose pistachio and dark chocolate. As he reached for his wallet, Nana waved him off.

"It's on the house, dear. Consider it my blessing on your date," she said with a wink.

You both thanked Nana profusely, waving goodbye as you strolled away with your gelato. Atsumu led you to a nearby bench overlooking the water, where you could enjoy your dessert and the view.

As you savored the rich, creamy gelato, you couldn't help but steal glances at Atsumu. The soft glow of the streetlights illuminated his profile, highlighting his strong jawline and the gentle curve of his lips. You found yourself wondering what those lips would feel like against yours.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Atsumu asked, catching you staring.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks, but decided to be bold. "I was just thinking... this has been a really wonderful evening."

Atsumu's eyes softened, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "I'm glad you've enjoyed it. To be honest, ...I've enjoyed it more than any date I've been on in a long time."

His words sent a flutter through your stomach. You set your empty gelato cup aside, turning to face him more fully on the bench. "Really? Even with all your reputation as a player?"

Atsumu winced slightly at your words, but his gaze remained steady on yours. "I know I have a certain... reputation," he admitted. "And I won't lie, I've made some mistakes in the past. But being with you tonight, it's different. You're different, [Y/N]."

You searched his eyes, looking for any sign of insincerity, but found only earnestness. "Different how?" you asked softly.

Atsumu's words hung in the air between you, charged with emotion. You found yourself leaning closer, drawn in by the intensity of his gaze. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

"You challenge me," Atsumu continued, his voice low and husky. "You make me want to be better. To be worthy of someone like you."

His hand cupped your cheek gently, his thumb tracing the curve of your jawline. Your breath caught in your throat at the tenderness of his touch.

"Atsumu," you whispered, your heart racing.

He leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn't want to. You met him halfway, your lips brushing together softly at first, then with increasing passion.

The kiss was everything you had imagined and more.

The kiss deepened, Atsumu's lips moving against yours with a passionate intensity that took your breath away. His hand slid from your cheek to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as your fingers gripped the front of his shirt. The taste of gelato lingered on his tongue, sweet and intoxicating.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Atsumu rested his forehead against yours, his eyes dark with desire. "Wow," he murmured.

You couldn't help but laugh softly. "Yeah, wow."

For a moment, you just sat there, basking in the afterglow of the kiss and the intimacy of the moment. The gentle lapping of waves against the shore and the distant cry of seagulls provided a soothing backdrop.

Eventually, Atsumu pulled back slightly, though he kept his arm around you. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your shoulder as you both gazed out at the moonlit water. The night had grown cooler, but you felt warm in the cocoon of his jacket and the lingering heat of the kiss.

"We should probably head back," Atsumu said softly, though he made no move to get up. "It's getting late."

You nodded reluctantly, not wanting the evening to end but knowing it had to. "Yeah, I suppose we should."

Atsumu stood, offering his hand to help you up. As you rose, he pulled you close, stealing one more quick kiss that left you dizzy.

Hand in hand, you strolled back along the waterfront towards where Atsumu had parked his car.

The walk back to Atsumu's car was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of waves lapping against the shore and the occasional brush of your bodies as you walked close together. Your hand remained intertwined with his, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin.

As you approached the car, a cool breeze swept in from the water, causing you to shiver slightly despite Atsumu's jacket draped over your shoulders. He noticed immediately, pulling you closer to his side.

"Cold?" he asked softly, his breath warm against your ear.

You nodded, leaning into his warmth. "A little. I guess I didn't plan very well for an evening by the water."

Atsumu chuckled, opening the passenger door for you. "Well, I'm not complaining about the dress. You look absolutely stunning in it."

As you slid into the seat, Atsumu's compliment still ringing in your ears, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness flutter in your stomach. The evening had been magical, far exceeding any expectations you'd had. As Atsumu got in on the driver's side, you found yourself not wanting the night to end.

The drive back to your place was filled with comfortable conversation and lingering glances. Atsumu's hand found yours over the center console, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your skin. The simple gesture sent shivers down your spine.

All too soon, Atsumu was pulling up in front of your building. He killed the engine but made no move to get out, turning to face you instead.

"I had an amazing time tonight, [Y/N]," he said softly, his eyes searching yours.

You smiled, squeezing his hand. "So did I. Thank you for such a wonderful evening."

Atsumu's eyes softened as he gazed at you, a tender smile playing on his lips. "I'm glad. I have to admit, I was a bit nervous about tonight. I really wanted to impress you."

His admission of nervousness surprised and touched you. "Well, consider me thoroughly impressed," you said with a soft laugh. "You certainly know how to plan a perfect date."

Atsumu grinned, his confidence returning. "Does that mean you'd be up for a second date?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Despite your initial reservations about Atsumu's reputation, you found yourself eager to see him again. "I think I could be persuaded," you teased.

Atsumu's grin widened as he leaned in closer, his eyes flickering down to your lips. "And how might I persuade you?" he murmured, his voice low and husky.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the heat of his body so close to yours. Without thinking, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a soft, sweet kiss.

Atsumu responded immediately, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a passionate intensity that made your head spin. You lost yourself in the sensation, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Atsumu rested his forehead against yours, his eyes dark with desire. "Was that persuasive enough?" he asked, a hint of his usual playfulness in tow.

You smiled, your lips still tingling from the kiss. "I'd say that was very persuasive," you murmured.

Atsumu's eyes lit up, a mix of happiness and desire swirling in their depths. "Good," he said softly, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. "Because I can't wait to see you again."

The intensity of his gaze made your heart race. You found yourself leaning in for another kiss, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you. This kiss was slower, deeper, filled with promise and unspoken emotions.

When you finally pulled apart, you were both breathing heavily. Atsumu rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as if savoring the moment.

"I should probably go," you whispered, though you made no move to leave.

Atsumu nodded, opening his eyes to meet yours.

"Probably," Atsumu agreed reluctantly, his eyes still locked on yours. "But I don't want this night to end."

You smiled softly, understanding the feeling completely. "Me neither," you admitted. "But we both have early classes tomorrow."

Atsumu sighed dramatically, finally pulling back slightly. "Always the responsible one, aren't you?" he teased, though his eyes were warm with affection.

You laughed, playfully swatting his arm. "One of us has to be."

Atsumu grinned, then stepped out of the car to open your door. As you stood, he pulled you close once more, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Thank you for giving me a chance," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "I know you had your doubts about me."

You pulled back slightly to meet his gaze, your hands resting on his chest. "I'm glad I did," you said softly. "You've surprised me, Atsumu Miya. In the best way possible."

His eyes lit up at your words, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "I aim to keep surprising you," he said, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You closed your eyes, savoring the tender moment. When you opened them again, Atsumu was looking at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"Can I see you again tomorrow?" he asked, his voice low and hopeful. "Maybe we could grab lunch between classes?"

Your heart fluttered at his eagerness. "I'd like that," you replied with a smile. "Text me the details?"

Atsumu nodded, reluctantly loosening his hold on you. "I will. Sweet dreams, [Y/N]."

You smiled, stepping back towards your building. "Goodnight, Atsumu. Drive safe."

As you reached the entrance, you turned back to see Atsumu still watching you, a soft smile on his face. You waved one last time before heading inside, your heart light and your mind full of the evening's memories.

Once in your apartment, you leaned against the closed door, a dreamy smile playing on your lips. Your phone buzzed in your purse, and you pulled it out to see a text from Atsumu:

[Atsumu]: Already missing you. Can't wait for lunch tomorrow. Sweet dreams, beautiful.

Your heart skipped a beat as you read his message. You quickly typed out a reply:

[Y/N]: Missing you too. Tonight was perfect. Sweet dreams, Atsumu.

You hit send, a giddy smile spreading across your face. As you got ready for bed, your mind kept replaying moments from the evening - Atsumu's laugh, the way his eyes sparkled in the candlelight, the feel of his lips against yours.

You fell asleep that night with a smile on your face, looking forward to seeing Atsumu again tomorrow. For the first time in a long time, you felt excited about the possibilities of a new relationship. Atsumu had surprised you in the best way possible, and you couldn't wait to see where things might lead.

[ladyeckland28]

Ecky Vs Rhymes: The Dang And The Fawk

### Chapter 1: The Spirit Realm and a Twisted Offer

In the aftermath of that fateful lightning strike, Ecky and Rhymes found themselves in a realm unlike any other—a place between life and death, shrouded in mist and mystery. The Spirit Realm, as they would come to know it, was a place of whispers and shadows, where the boundaries between the living and the dead blurred.

As they regained their senses, a figure emerged from the mist, its form cloaked and its voice like the sighing wind. "Greetings, Ecky. Greetings, Rhymes. Your rivalry and passion have not gone unnoticed by those who dwell in the beyond."

Ecky, the British firebrand, stood tall, her eyes narrowing. "Who are you, and what do you want? We may be fresh off the mortal coil, but we're not about to be pushed around by some shadowy figure."

Rhymes, ever curious, took a step forward. "Now, hold your horses, Ecky. We might be dead, but something tells me this fella has a proposition for us. Go on, spit it out."

The figure stepped forward, its form shifting and changing with every step. "In this realm, you are but shadows, untethered from your physical forms. You have a choice, my feuding friends. Stay here and fade into eternity, or return to the world of the living, with a twist."

Intrigued, Rhymes asked, "What kind of twist are we talkin' about here? We're quite fond of our bodies, you know."

The figure waved a hand, and a vision appeared before them—two frozen individuals, a man and a woman, their eyes blank and empty. "You will become like shadows, slipping into the bodies of the living, controlling their actions, their desires. Their minds will be yours to manipulate, their secrets yours to uncover."

Ecky raised an eyebrow. "So, we get to play puppet master with these poor souls? It's a bit like being a ghost, isn't it? I suppose it could be a lark."

"More than a lark, Ecky," the figure said. "It's a second chance. A chance to continue your rivalry, to experience life through the eyes of others. But remember, with great power comes great consequence."

Rhymes, always up for an adventure, grinned. "Consequences, schmonsequences. I say we take the offer. Let's go give those poor folks a ride they'll never forget."

And so, with a whispered agreement, Ecky and Rhymes found themselves back in the land of the living, but with a strange new ability. They could sense the life force of those around them, and with a mere thought, they could slip into their bodies, puppeteering their actions and experiencing the world through their eyes.

### Chapter 2: A Public Display of Passions

Ecky, ever the mischievous one, chose a young man named Alex as her host. Alex was out on a date with his sweetheart, Sara, when Ecky took control. Alex's body froze, and she spoke with a wicked smirk. "Well, well, well. Looks like we've stumbled upon a right proper couple, all loved up and whatnot. How delightfully convenient."

Not to be outdone, Rhymes slipped into Sara's body, her voice taking on a Midwest twang. "Ecky, my rival, my nemesis. Seems like we've got ourselves a new playground. Let's see how you fare when the rules are bent and twisted, shall we?"

Sara, now a vessel for Rhymes' desires, leaned in close to Alex, her breath hot on his neck. "I want you, right here, right now. No waitin', no delayin'. Give it to me, darlin'."

Alex, under Ecky's control, tried to maintain his composure. "Now, hold on a tick, Sara. We're in public, for goodness' sake. Let's find a more suitable place, shall we?"

Rhymes wasn't having any of it. She had Sara slap Ecky across the face, hard. "You always were a stickler for rules, Ecky. But I reckon it's high time you learned to let loose. Give in to your desires."

Passersby stopped in their tracks, eyes wide at the commotion. Rhymes paid them no mind. She pulled Sara's body back, her eyes flashing. "You can't deny it, Ecky. You want me. You want this. Don't you?"

Ecky's heart raced, and she knew Rhymes was right. The desire was there, burning brightly. But she wasn't about to admit it. "You mistake desire for rivalry, Rhymes. I simply want to win this little game of ours. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a gentleman to seduce."

And with that, Ecky had Alex turn and walk away, leaving a frustrated Rhymes seething. But she wasn't about to give up. This was a game, after all, and Rhymes always played to win.

Sara's body chased after Alex, Rhymes' desire fueling her pursuit. "Don't you walk away from me, darlin'. We ain't finished here. I want you, and I intend to have you."

Ecky, through Alex, quickened her pace, leading them into an alleyway. "Now, now, Rhymes. No need to be so forward. We're just getting started. Let's take this little game of cat and mouse to the next level, shall we?"

As they entered the alley, Ecky had Alex press Sara against the wall, their bodies close, their breath mingling. "You can't catch me, Rhymes. Not this time. But I'll admit, the chase is exhilarating."

Rhymes' eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh, so you want to play games, do ya? Fine by me, sugar. But let's make it interesting. Let's take this all the way."

And so, their battle escalated, their rivalry fueling their passions. Ecky and Rhymes, through their hosts, engaged in a frenzied dance of desire, their kisses hungry, their touches desperate. Clothes were torn, buttons popped, and moans of pleasure filled the alleyway.

But as their passions peaked, Rhymes had a different plan. She pushed Ecky away, a devious smile on her face. "You know you want me, Ecky. But I'm not makin' this easy for you. If you want me, you're gonna have to work for it."

Ecky, through Alex, growled in frustration. "You always did like to play hard to get, Rhymes. Very well, let's take this show on the road."

And so, their public display of passions continued, their bodies moving in sync as they made their way through the streets, leaving a trail of shocked and aroused onlookers in their wake. But Rhymes had more than just seduction on her mind.

As their dance of desire brought them to a window above the busy street, Rhymes had Sara push Ecky through it, their naked bodies falling amidst the crowd below. The impact was brutal, their bodies splattered with blood and gore, their screams mixing with the horrified shouts of onlookers.

### Chapter 3: Gym Rivals Bash it Out

Location: Local Gym

Seeking a change of pace, Ecky, still reeling from their public display, found refuge in a nearby gym, hoping to find a host to help clear her mind. She slipped into the body of Chad, a beefy lad grunting through his reps.

"Ah, now this is more like it," Ecky said, flexing Chad's muscles. "Time to blow off some steam and forget about that wild ride with Rhymes."

Unfortunately for Ecky, Rhymes had a similar idea. She possessed Tyrone, another gym enthusiast, and approached Chad with a competitive glint in her eye.

"Well, howdy, Ecky," Rhymes drawled. "Looks like we've got ourselves another playground. And you, my rival, seem to have found yourself a right proper alpha male."

Ecky, trying to maintain her composure, flexed Chad's muscles and struck a pose. "You know me, Rhymes. Always up for a challenge. And I daresay this body's a step up from your last choice. Care to put your money where your mouth is?"

Rhymes laughed, a deep, throaty sound that echoed through Tyrone's broad chest. "Oh, Ecky, you and your fancy ways. But it ain't just the body that matters. It's what you can do with it. So, let's see what them pretty muscles can really do."

Tyrone, under Rhymes' control, flexed his biceps, veins popping. "You know you wanna go toe-to-toe with me, Ecky. Don't deny it. I can see the fire in your eyes."

Ecky rolled her eyes. "Fire? Please. I've seen hotter coals on a winter's day. But if you insist on a little competition, I won't back down."

And so, their battle of the beefcakes commenced. Chad and Tyrone, directed by Ecky and Rhymes, began an intense workout routine, each trying to outdo the other with feats of strength and agility. The other gym patrons stopped to watch, unsure if they were witnessing a rivalry or a bizarre performance art piece.

As the competition escalated, so did the tension between Ecky and Rhymes. Their hosts' bodies glistened with sweat, and their grunts and shouts filled the gym. They pushed their hosts to the limit, each trying to one-up the other.

"You know, Rhymes," Ecky said, her voice strained as Chad pushed through a particularly heavy lift. "You may have the body, but it's the mind that truly matters. And your mind? Well, let's just say it's not exactly known for its strategic prowess."

Rhymes' eyes narrowed. "Oh, you wanna go there, do ya? Fine by me, sugar. Let's see whose body emerges victorious."

And so, their battle intensified, each pushing their host's body beyond its limits. The gym patrons watched, transfixed, as the two alpha males went head-to-head, their rivalry fueling their every move. But it wasn't just about the workout anymore.

As their hosts neared exhaustion, something snapped. Chad and Tyrone, driven by Ecky and Rhymes' mutual hatred, lunged at each other, their workout turning into a full-blown wrestling match. Punches were thrown, and bodies collided, sending equipment flying and patrons scattering.

The two possessed men grappled with each other, their faces twisted with rage and their bodies glistening with sweat and blood. They traded blows, each trying to dominate the other, their rivalry escalating into a brutal, bloody battle.

"You know, Ecky," Rhymes panted as their hosts grappled. "This here's what I call a real workout. Nothin' like a good old-fashioned brawl to get the blood pumpin'."

Ecky, through Chad, growled in response. "You always did like to take things too far, Rhymes. But I reckon it's time we settled this once and for all."

And so, their wrestling match continued, their hosts' bodies battered and bruised, their faces unrecognizable beneath the blood and sweat. The gym patrons watched in horror and fascination, unsure if they were witnessing a fight to the death.

Finally, as their hosts lay on the floor, exhausted and beaten, Ecky and Rhymes slipped out of their vessels, leaving them dazed and confused. The gym was in ruins, and their rivalry had reached a new level of intensity.

### Chapter 4: Elderly Antics Gone Awry

Location: Retirement Home

Seeking a respite from their intense battles, Ecky and Rhymes found themselves in a retirement home, looking for calmer hosts to occupy.

Ecky slipped into the body of Mr. Johnson, a gentle elderly gentleman enjoying his afternoon nap. "Ah, now this is more like it," Ecky sighed. "A peaceful host for a change. No more chaos and rivalry, just a nice, quiet kip."

However, Rhymes had other plans. She possessed Mrs. Robinson, a feisty elderly lady with a mischievous spark in her eye.

"Ecky, my dear, you always were a bit of a bore," Rhymes said with a cackle. "Always wantin' peace and quiet. Well, I say it's time to shake things up, don'tcha think?"

Mrs. Robinson, under Rhymes' control, sauntered over to Mr. Johnson and gave him a playful nudge. "Wake up, dearie. It's time to have ourselves a little fun, don'tcha know?"

Ecky, startled, sat up straight. "Now, hold on a minute, Mrs. Robinson. It's the middle of the bally afternoon, and I was havin' a lovely nap. Can't we just have a spot of tea and a nice chat?"

Rhymes' eyes sparkled with mischief. "Tea and chat? Oh, Ecky, you always were a stickler for tradition. But where's the fun in that? Let's cause a little ruckus, shall we?"

And so, their unusual elderly escapades began. Rhymes, through Mrs. Robinson, dragged Ecky's host on a wild adventure through the retirement home, causing harmless chaos and confusion in their wake. They snuck into the kitchen and "accidentally" set off the fire alarm, leaving the residents in a tizzy. They organized a spontaneous dance-off, with Mrs. Robinson showing off her surprisingly agile moves, much to the delight (and bewilderment) of the other residents.

But their antics took a turn for the worse when Rhymes had Mrs. Robinson challenge Mr. Johnson to a game of one-on-one basketball. As they dribbled and weaved, their competitive spirits ignited, and their hearts raced. Unfortunately, their elderly bodies couldn't quite keep up.

Midway through the game, Mr. Johnson clutched his chest, his face contorting in pain. Mrs. Robinson, driven by Rhymes' competitive spirit, pushed him to keep going. "Come on, dearie! You can't give up now! Let's show these young whippersnappers a thing or two!"

Mr. Johnson, urged on by Ecky's desire to not back down, pushed through the pain. But it was too much for his heart to handle. He collapsed, clutching his chest, and Rhymes realized her mistake. "Oh, sugar, I didn't mean for this to happen. Looks like we took things a bit too far."

Mrs. Robinson rushed to Mr. Johnson's side, concern etched on her face. Ecky, through Mr. Johnson, managed to whisper, "It's alright, old girl. We were both a bit too eager, weren't we? Rivals to the end, even in our golden years."

And so, their peaceful interlude ended with a trip to the hospital, their hosts suffering from cardiac arrest. As they slipped out of their elderly hosts, leaving them with fond memories and a lesson learned, they knew their journey together was far from over.

### Chapter 5: Student Rivals and Hedonistic Hijinks

Location: College Campus

In search of younger, more vibrant hosts, Ecky and Rhymes found themselves on a college campus, home to two rival students, Amy and Lisa.

Ecky possessed Amy, a studious young woman with a passion for knowledge. "Ah, now this is more like it. A smart lass who understands the importance of education. Time to give this young lady a nudge in the right direction, don't you think, Rhymes?"

Rhymes, always one for drama, possessed Lisa, a free-spirited art student with a hedonistic streak. "Ecky, my dear, you and your books. Always with your nose in 'em. But where's the fun in that? It's time to live a little, don'tcha think?"

Lisa, now a vessel for Rhymes' desires, stormed into Amy's room, her eyes flashing. "You know, I'm gettin' mighty tired of your constant studyin', Amy. There's more to life than books and exams! Let's cut loose, shall we?"

Ecky, through Amy, looked up from her books, exasperated. "Now, hold your horses, Lisa. I've got an exam tomorrow. Can we please keep the noise down?"

Rhymes wasn't having any of it. She had Lisa sweep Amy's books off the desk in a dramatic flourish. "No more studyin'! It's time to embrace life, Amy! Let's paint the town red!"

And so, their rivalry escalated, with Rhymes using Lisa's body to continue her hedonistic lifestyle. She dragged Amy to parties, bars, and wild adventures, pushing her to let loose and experience life to the fullest.

But Ecky wasn't about to back down. She had Amy pursue her studies with even more fervor, determined to prove that knowledge was power. Their hosts became caught in the crossfire of their rivalry, their lives a constant tug-of-war between responsibility and reckless abandon.

As their rivalry intensified, Ecky realized she had to take drastic action. One night, she had Amy sneak out, determined to find Rhymes and put an end to her hedonistic hijinks. "You can't hide from me, Rhymes. I'll find you, and we'll settle this once and for all."

And so, Ecky set out on a mission, her determination fueling her every step. Little did she know that Rhymes, through Lisa, was doing the same—each seeking to outdo the other, their rivalry burning brighter than ever.

Their paths crossed at a wild party, their hosts locking eyes across the room. Ecky and Rhymes, through their hosts, approached each other, their rivalry sparking once more. "Well, well, well. Looks like we've found each other, Rhymes. Shall we continue this little game of ours?"

And so, their battle of the students commenced, their hosts caught in the crossfire of their passions, desires, and intense rivalry.

## Ecky Vs Rhymes: The Final Showdown

### Chapter 6: The Hilarious Argument and Bloody Brawl

Back at the place where their rivalry first ignited, Ecky and Rhymes stood face to face, their hosts forgotten as they confronted each other directly. The air crackled with tension, their mutual hatred fueling their desire for a final showdown.

Ecky, the prim and proper British woman, straightened her posture and spoke with a haughty tone. "Really, Rhymes, must we continue this tiresome feud? It's become rather... tedious, if I may say so myself."

Rhymes, the free-spirited Midwest American, crossed her arms and replied with a twang. "Now, hold your horses, Ecky. You started this whole shebang, and I reckon it ain't finishin' until I say so."

Their hosts' bodies stood there, a reflection of their clashing personalities—Ecky, prim and proper in a tailored suit, and Rhymes, casual and carefree in ripped jeans and a tank top.

Ecky huffed. "Started it? Really, Rhymes, your memory seems to be failing you. It was you who spilled that drink on me at the bar, leading to this whole debacle."

Rhymes rolled her eyes. "Spilled a drink? Sugar, you're still harpin' on that? Besides, it was an accident. You're the one who took it too far, turnin' it into a full-blown feud."

Their voices rose, attracting the attention of those around them. The onlookers, sensing a dramatic confrontation, gathered close, eager to witness the spectacle.

Ecky continued, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "An accident, was it? And I suppose it was an accident when you tripped me on the dance floor, leading to my rather embarrassing fall?"

Rhymes scoffed. "Embarrassin'? Honey, we all fall sometimes. 'Sides, you're the one who turned it into a catfight, scratchin' my eyes out like a wildcat."

Their argument escalated, their voices carrying across the room. The onlookers were enthralled, some taking sides, others simply enjoying the hilarious display of clashing personalities.

Ecky, her face flushed with anger, pointed a finger at Rhymes. "You, my dear Rhymes, are the embodiment of chaos! You leave a trail of destruction wherever you go, and I, for one, have had enough!"

Rhymes, her eyes flashing with fury, stepped forward, their faces mere inches apart. "Chaos, huh? Well, I reckon you're one to talk, Miss Priss. You're so uptight, a gust of wind could knock you off your high horse."

And with that, Ecky's composure broke. She lunged at Rhymes, her hands wrapping around her throat. Rhymes, taken by surprise, retaliated, and their hosts' bodies engaged in a brutal brawl, fueled by years of pent-up hatred.

Punches were thrown, hair was pulled, and their hosts' bodies became a blur of motion, each trying to dominate the other. The onlookers, shocked at first, quickly realized this was no ordinary fight. This was a battle of rivals, a clash of personalities, and they cheered and egged them on.

As their hosts grappled, Ecky and Rhymes continued their verbal sparring, their hatred spilling over. "You always were a thorn in my side, Rhymes! I should've ended this the moment we met!"

Rhymes, her voice strained, replied, "End it? Sugar, you couldn't end this if you tried. I'll be your nemesis 'til the end of time!"

And then, in a shocking twist, their hosts' hands reached for the nearest weapons—a pair of decorative swords mounted on the wall. In a swift and bloody motion, they decapitated each other, their heads rolling across the floor as their bodies slumped to the ground.

### Chapter 7: A Lesson in the Spirit Realm

Ecky and Rhymes found themselves back in the Spirit Realm, their spiritual forms intact but their rivalry still simmering. The mysterious figure, their guide, appeared before them, its form shifting and changing with the wind.

"Ah, Ecky. Rhymes. Back so soon? Your rivalry has certainly caused quite the stir, even in the beyond." The figure's voice carried a hint of disappointment.

Ecky, her spiritual form floating cross-legged i

[juniper-sunny]

The Art in the Heart - Chapter 14

Changes are coming to the Undercity, and most of them are good...

Everybody Lives AU | Pre-Act 1 | Silco x Reader | Female!Reader | Slow Burn | Smut | Fluff | Mild Angst || SFW | TW: Stalking | WC: 2.15k

ao3 || Masterlist || Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 3.5 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 7.5 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13

taglist (open): @sherwood-forests @deny-the-issue @let-the-monster-out @ariaud @joscelyn02 @crunchlite @sheacrowley

───────────────── ●◉◎◈◎◉● ─────────────────

For a pub in the heart of the Undercity with such a large clientele, The Last Drop has a rather small music collection in their jukebox. You frown when you flip through the records, barely a dozen in number. If Silco and Vander are telling the truth, then you have every reason to believe that The Last Drop makes a healthy profit every night. So why don’t they buy more music? You grumble as you peruse the same titles over and over again.

Silco strolls up behind you. You glance up at him and smile. His returning grin is bright and kindles a warm, fuzzy glow of happiness in your chest. Without a word, he pulls a coin out of his pocket and inserts it into the jukebox, selecting a crooning, jazzy song that fills the air with a twanging guitar and a steady drumbeat.

Wordlessly, he holds out a hand for you to take. When you do, he places his other hand on your waist, drawing you close to him as he sways to the music. You match his steps, adjusting to the song’s rhythm.

The Last Drop is still closed, so it’s just you and Silco. Dancing in your own little world, close enough that your shadows become one under the bright, golden lights of the bar.

“Hi,” you say to Silco, still smiling.

“Hello,” he responds cheerfully. Tenderly holding you as you both dance in place.

“You guys need more music in that thing,” you nod towards the jukebox. “It’s an important part of the ambience, you know?”

“I do believe our patrons are more interested in the quality of our drinks than the ‘ambience’,” Silco chuckles.

“Sure, but people will drink more when they’re having a good time.”

“Is our current catalog not adequate? We have yet to receive any complaints from anyone besides you, my lovely.”

“Well, maybe I want more music to dance to,” you squeeze his hand.

“Oh? Do you intend to dance with the whole of the Lanes?” he smirks at you.

“Nah, just this one guy,” you grin at him. “He’s tall, dark-haired, and handsome, with cheekbones for days and an amazing smile. He thinks he’s a real tough guy but he’s a big ol’ softie underneath it all… and I like him a lot.”

“Would you believe that I’m well-acquainted with this gentleman?” Silco asks you without skipping a beat. “There’s only one woman with whom he would consent to dancing with.”

“Oh? That’s too bad. Sounds like she’s a very lucky woman,” you sigh melodramatically.

“Well, he is quite happy with her,” he says. “How could he not be? She’s the most caring, kind, and thoughtful person he’s ever known, as well as a beautiful and talented painter. He couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner.”

You blush at that and look down at the floor. Silco stops dancing, nudging his nose against yours. A silent request for you to look him in the eyes.

“To have someone so wonderful in my life… it’s the greatest fortune in the world to be blessed with,” he murmurs.

He leans in, his lips brushing against yours. You stand on tiptoe to kiss him, soft and sweet and gentle. Face flushed from both his praises for you and your desire for him. When he pulls away, his adoration shines through in his eyes.

You rest your head on his chest, getting him to resume swaying with you. Music continues trilling out of the jukebox, melodious trumpets accompanying a duet singing of love and devotion.

“Teema and Cuny say hi, by the way,” you say conversationally. “They want to know when you’re going to make sandwiches for dinner again. Why didn’t you tell me you’ve been helping out at the orphanage without me?”

“They invited me to come back whenever I pleased. I merely offer them my help whenever I can… and I may have reassigned some of the Children to offer their assistance as well,” he replies. “Perhaps some of our energy would be better spent focusing inwards, on more directly helping our fellows in the Undercity. It would truly fortify us as a nation before endeavoring to rival Piltover in status.”

“Wow, really? That’s great,” you gaze at him in amazement. “Thank you so much.”

“Not at all. We’re merely fulfilling our original mission with a new methodology,” Silco says. “My apologies for not telling you sooner, I know you’ve been busy with your commissions…”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve been there with you.”

“It’s alright. Teema and Cuny seem to approve of me being something of a liaison.”

You’ve been paying such close attention to Silco that you don’t notice a chair in your way until you almost bump into it. When you kick it out of the way at the last second, Silco chuckles at your dexterity. You ask, curious, “So who else has been helping out at Janna’s Hearth?”

“Vander, Benzo and some others try to take on kitchen duty once a week; I suspect it may have something to do with wanting Kharon’s cooking for dinner,” Silco speculates, amused. “As for Sevika, she prefers to spend her time teaching the children self-defense.”

“Silco…” you’re speechless at the thoughtfulness of him and his companions. Instead, you hug him tight, laying a kiss on his neck. You look up at him with gratitude. “Thank you.”

Silco kisses your forehead. “Speaking of the orphanage, may I ask you something regarding their finances?”

You nod.

“Why didn’t you tell me a majority of their funding came from your own earnings?”

“Janna’s Hearth is always going to need money. The kids deserve to be taken care of.”

He frowns at your nonchalant tone. “Teema and Cuny believe that you should be keeping more money for yourself, and I’m inclined to agree with them.”

You shrug. “I just need enough for rent and supplies. I don’t need to hoard the rest of it.”

“Is there nothing in your future you wish to save up for? Children of your own, perhaps…?”

“Oh… I don’t know,” you admit. “Why? Do you want kids?”

“I may have entertained the notion on occasion… and I must say, I have been quite enjoying nurturing the children at Janna’s Hearth,” he smiles thoughtfully. “It’s a very fulfilling experience.”

“It really is, isn’t it,” you hum in agreement.

Silco looks down at you, eyebrows pinched together in worry. “Is this something you’d rather not discuss? It’s none of my business, my apologies—”

“No, you’re fine, I guess, I just…” you trail off. “I know I’d make a great mom, and I’d probably have a lot of fun teaching a kid how to paint and draw… but…”

In the past month, you still experienced pangs of guilt whenever you thought about your former friends. Even more so that night when Silco had told you he had investigated Gita’s whereabouts only to find that she had drowned a few years ago. You had cried your eyes out, all your repressed mourning for your lost friendship and grieving for your friend’s death threatening to overwhelm you in a storm of agony. Silco had been your rock, holding you tight and reassuring you again and again that you were blameless. Kissing your tears away for hours into the night.

Your many years of childrearing experience gave you a modest amount of confidence when it came to the practicalities of being a mother. As to whether you deserved to be one or not…

Silco says your name softly. You look up at him with watery eyes.

“Any child would be lucky to have you as a mother,” he presses his forehead against yours. “If you choose to share even more of your light with the world, the Undercity would become a much brighter place.”

You sniff and rub your eyes. “Hopefully my kid will be less of a crybaby than I am.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Silco kisses you between your eyebrows. “I like how sensitive you are, darling. Please don’t feel like you have to change anything about yourself.”

“Silco… thanks.” Hopefully that one word is enough to convey the sheer magnitude of appreciation you have for him.

He smiles at you and strokes your cheek. “To tell you the truth… I may have been spending more time at Janna’s Hearth, as an apology to you.”

“Huh?” your confusion brings you to a standstill.

“When we first met… I told you that you were no good for the Undercity,” he cringes in regret at his words. “When I see how much you’ve done to help the orphanage and Zaun, I only now understand how wrong I was. I will never be sorry enough—”

“Silco, I told you it was fine,” you insist. “I can’t believe you’re still worried about that.”

“My words were spoken out of ignorance and anger. Please, let me do all I can to truly earn your forgiveness.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, silly,” you place a hand on each side of his face, rubbing your thumbs along his cheekbones.

“But—”

You cut him off with another kiss, passionate and hungry. Tasting each one of his lips and flicking your tongue against his. Silco gasps and kisses you back. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against him, lifting you up off your feet.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Sevika’s voice and the sound of the front door opening makes you loosen your embrace. “It’s almost time.”

“Thanks, Sev,” Silco calls out to her breathlessly, still looking at you. She raises a hand to greet you before letting the door swing shut behind her.

“We should get going,” you say sheepishly. You lower your arms to your sides, brushing imaginary dirt off of your pants. Silco is keen not to let go of you though, as he grabs one of your hands and kisses your knuckles. You smile at him as he leads the way out of the bar.

________________________________________

Apparently, construction of the new scissor lift had taken longer than anticipated. On top of the Children not having room in their budget to hire the same contractors you did, Silco’s attempts to build the machine himself were constantly delayed and interrupted by other, more pressing missions. But finally, he finished putting together the contraption and returned the blueprints he borrowed from you so long ago. The new machine was ready to use.

You, Silco, and Sevika stand in the middle of the street, watching Benzo drive the scissor lift and raise it high enough to meet Vander, who’s already waiting on the roof of The Last Drop. Vander jumps down onto the platform to stand next to Benzo. The two of them hoist up a large, circular, metal sign, carefully lining it up with a chalk circle drawn on the bar’s facade. You watch with bated breath as Vander holds it in place, while Benzo uses an assortment of tools to affix the sign to the wall.

“Why aren’t you helping them, Sev?” Silco asks.

“Why aren’t you?” Sevika counters, puffing on a cigarette.

“I believe I’ve already done my fair share by building the machine,” Silco says, amused.

She shrugs. “It’s way more fun watching these two crawl around the building. They look like giant ants.”

“And what will you have to say for yourself if our friends get injured due to your negligence?” Silco asks teasingly.

“Don’t look at me. They’re more likely to get hurt piloting that pile of scrap you put together,” Sevika laughs.

The two of them begin snarking at each other when an unpleasantly familiar sensation strikes you: you’re being watched. By someone nearby, unseen.

It’s been a long time since you last sensed this unknown observer. It still unnerves you, but things are different now. Silco is in your life, determined to help you, and he’s not going anywhere anytime soon. His presence is heartening and emboldening you all at once.

Instead of making an excuse to leave your friends, you squeeze Silco’s arm. Giving him a meaningful look when he glances down at you.

“They’re here,” you whisper into Silco’s ear.

“Their persistence is truly incredible,” Silco mutters through grinding teeth, lips pressed together in a thin, angry line. “I look forward to getting my hands on them.”

“Please don’t hurt them—”

“They are endangering you and must be removed,” he says clinically. As if he were discussing a rotting tooth instead of a person.

“They haven’t hurt me yet,” you point out. “And maybe they never will.”

Silco turns to you fully. “That’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”

Now is as good a time as any to bring up the plan you’ve been mulling over for weeks now. Hopefully, he’ll cooperate with you. “I have an idea… could you help me with it?”

After a pregnant pause, he nods. Just once.

It’s all the encouragement you need to tell him everything.

Chapter 15

[htchnr]

♰ my heart is a sad affair ༻ C. HOWARD.*ೃ˚

➻ masterlist. ➻ buy me a coffee!

CW ➻ canon typical violence ⋆ slighttttt canon divergence in episode 2 in Filly ⋆ let's pretend there's a cryo vault close okay ⋆ Cooper getting shot multiple times ⋆ reader is on the verge of a heart attack or panic attack ⋆ she can't choose ⋆ FEELINGS ⋆ mention of reader going through drug and alcohol benders ⋆ if i missed anything, lmk!

PAIRING ➻ wife!reader x Cooper. (they were married before the war, but both of them believe the other is long dead.)

SUMMARY ➻ request by a lovely anon ; but the angst in a fic for what if you were cryogenically vault frozen for some reason and many years later you get free and try and find place on the surface and then run into Cooper’s edgy ghoul self either literally run into or just happen to be at the same market stall, my heaRT. WC ➻ 4,8k.

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐇𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐑. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!

the day the bombs dropped was a day you desperately tried to forget. bottle after bottle, stash of chems after stash — there wasn't a thing you hadn't tried to make you forget.

to make you forget the lies from Vault Tec, Moldaver, the loss of your husband that you fear would never get better, you wanted so bad to forget it all. but after being thawed out in a vault after a system wide malfunction and being thrust into the violently changed world made it so damn difficult to forget.

you shuffled around the town, Filly, looking for any kind of work. you weren't too picky as long as it payed decent and didn't cross too many lines for you personally. you walked past a chems stall, some shady guy selling a surprisingly wide variety of things. "c'mon, three hundred caps for that little is fuckin' ridiculous," a tall guy in a long tattered duster and cowboy hat challenged the shady man behind the stall.

your heart ached, the cowboy's voice a little too similar to one you used to hear every morning.

"mm," he would hum, "good mornin' sweetheart," he'd smile, his usually only slightly present southern twang would shine through in the tired hours of the morning, pressing firm kisses into your skin.

"good morning," you'd tiredly giggle, your undying love for him clear in your smile as you would hold him close, as if he'd disappear if you did.

oh how quickly that memory turned so sour, he did disappear when you let go that awful morning. he vanished from your life after he left for the birthday party he was asked to attend. you looked up at the sky, blinking away the tears. you continued through the town, walking over to Ma's to see if she needed anything.

you're somewhat of a regular there, stopping by from time to time either for supplies or work. sometimes hanging around to help her out around the shop.

you stepped inside, the familiar smell of dirty metals, rotten limbs and blood flooding your senses. you'd gotten used to Ma's, gotten used to her company, hell you'd even go as far as to say you'd consider her a sort of friend. "hey Ma," you holler, finding her at the counter as per usual.

she swears, looking up from her ledger. "hey hey! lookin' for more work?" she grins, her smile missing more than a few teeth.

you walk up to lean against the counter, nodding. "anything you need done, i don't care."

she knew your words meant anything by the tone of them, and she paused working on writing something down to move to thumb through the thick book. "well," she hummed, her dirty finger stopping at one line in the ledger. "i've got something that i desperately need done, but don't take it too lightly," she warned.

you waved your hand dismissively, the memories of your past burning away any boundaries you had set up when you left the vault. "give it to me Ma, don't care what it is."

she looks you up and down, eyes flitting over your gear in your holsters. she sighs and the shrugs, nodding to herself. "i got a man comin' in in a bit, Wilzig. i need you to take him to Moldaver." she said firmly.

you blinked as you snapped out of your sour trance, Moldaver. that was a name you hadn't heard in a long time. sure, you'd heard whispers around towns, everyone heard of Moldaver, but no one knew her as well as you did. "i'll take it." you said, as firm as Ma had spoken.

she sighed but nodded, “i’ll holler when he’s here, for now if you’re so desperate for work, ‘could use some help out back with a giant heap of junk someone dropped off. sift through it, see what’s valuable, what’s not. you know the deal.” her tone final.

you nodded, tapping the counter before heading out back. you almost regret accepting it, cause good lord was it a heap of junk. it took a while to sort through, the last half of your work admittedly got a little sloppy as you spotted someone walking in wearing colors you were all too familiar with.

the girl in the vault suit talked to Ma, and Ma was laughing, calling Barv over to look at the Vault Dweller. you had ditched your suit as soon as you could, repulsed by what the suit meant to you and the company it was from. she seemed to fully embrace it, love Vault Tec even.

then the laughter stopped. it came to such an abrupt halt that you set down whatever scrap of junk you had been holding and slowly started making your way back up the stairs and into the building. the colors sending nauseous waves through you as you watched Ma lean forward and curse the girl out of her shop.

the girl looked taken aback, but left nonetheless. "what was that about?" you spoke, Ma jumping at the sound of your voice.

"sweet lord, woman make some sound next time," she huffed, opening her ledger again. "some fuckin' happy go lucky Vault Dweller, lookin' for the wrong person." she scribbled something down before looking up at the sound of the Vault Dweller talking outside. "this fuckin' girl i swear," she grumbles, shoving the ledger shut before storming out from behind her counter.

you stayed inside, hand on the rifle on your back as you watched her talk to the girl and someone else. "you Wilzig?" you hear her ask, the person she spoke to presumably confirmed her question as a dog sprinted inside, instantly going for the bowl of bloody meat on the floor beside you. admittedly you jumped at the sudden intrusion, but calmed as you saw the dog chow down happily.

the dog cause another pang to go through your heart, Roosevelt. you missed your gorgeous boy so much — you don't think any dog in the world, not even a carbon fibre copy could ever fill the void Roosevelt left.

Ma yelled at the girl to get lost, snapping your attention back to the front of the shop. the person stepped more into the doorway, a roundish man, you could now see. he stood nervously, head constantly looking around.

Ma turned, moving to step inside the shop again, but a loud voice made her stop in her tracks. "Wilzig!" a deep southern drawl shouted from somewhere, and your grip tightened on your rifle's handle. you knew Ma could handle herself just fine, but you never strayed too far from Filly just to be sure.

the girl hadn't moved either, turning to face where the voice came from. "now, you wouldn't happen to be a doctor now would ya?" the voice rang loud and clear, though ever so slightly raspy. "cause i happen to be lookin' for one."

the more he spoke the more your brows twitched. your heart pounded, as if your body knew before your head did. the voice pulled strings inside you that you had carefully tied away, strings belonging to voice that sounded a little less raspy than the man's oustide.

you watched Ma wave the man, Wilzig, toward the door. "you know your kind ain't welcome here." she said, a firm tone in her voice.

it was quiet for a second as you tried to guess who she could mean. "well, maybe not," the man mused. "but i'm gonna make myself welcome." your heart sunk as your fingers fully wrapped around the butt of your rifle, pulling it off your back. the tone in the man's voice made it clear what his intentions were.

it was quiet, and everyone could taste the tension in the air. "now, last night a bounty came in through all six agencies," the man called out. ah, a Bounty Hunter.

"for a hefty price," his voice lowered again, you could barely hear him from inside the building. "on the head of a man that fits the description of that fella, right there." he drawls, and you can only assume he's pointing at Wilzig.

your fingers are clenched around your rifle at this point, the voice of the Bounty Hunter hitting too close to home for your liking. a voice you you wished so desperately you could hear once more, but knew wasn't possible.

"now i may not know much," the man paused, "but i do know a biddin' war when i see one."

Ma huffed, "maybe," she stands her ground and you can see her hand inching towards her gun. "but i've been paid a whole lotta caps to provide this man save transport out of Filly-" a loud bang cuts Ma off, and a shout comes from Wilzig as blood splatters into the shop. Ma shoots forward behind anything for shelter as the Vault Dweller and Wilzig remain in the Bounty Hunter's sights.

he cocks his gun again, "change of plans, i guess,"

you take a deep breath in, your shooting hand shaking a little before you step towards the doorway. "that's enough, right. now." you call out, rifle raised near your face and tightly held as you stepped foot outside the doorway, your eyes squinting a little to adjust to the sun.

your brows twitched more as you laid eyes on the man before you, heart pounding in your ears. a Ghoul. and now that you get a good look at him, it's the same man who was yelling at the shady guy at the chems stall. there was something strangely off about him though, a feeling around him that made your hands shake and your heart pound like crazy.

you saw his look falter when he laid eyes on you. dark, deep set eyes. so he felt something too— the thought was interrupted by someone firing, a bullet piercing his shoulder and shooting through, lodging itself into the wall beside you.

you watched the Ghoul snap, spinning around to shoot at whoever shot him. though it didn't feel like that was the reason, you saw something twist in the man's eyes when he saw where the bullet landed.

a chaotic burst of fire broke out, people from all around, everyone shooting at the Ghoul. and he returned fire, not even breaking a sweat. the bullet in his shoulder didn't seem to effect him one bit somehow. you held your rifle high, the man still in your cross hairs, but you hesitated.

"the fuck's goin' on with you!" Ma yelled, "shoot the fucker!" but you couldn't, all you could do was stand and watch, your rifle aimed with his head between your sights. but you couldn't pull the trigger.

you watched him walk around, not bothering to duck for cover. three loud shots rang, bullets whizzing by and lodging themselves into the Ghoul's back. you blinked, bewildered, as you only saw him jolt at the force, then sit down behind some over thrown over stall.

though you kept your rifle trained on the Ghoul, you noticed the Vault Dweller running into Ma's shop, possibly for cover.

you watched as the Ghoul shot the last person, the street's of Filly quiet besides the ringing of the last shot. he stands up, reloading his gun as he slowly makes his way back over to Ma's shop. your fingers tighten around your rifle as he moves, yet you feel your body freeze up more when he lays eyes on you again.

"i'm going to have to ask you to leave him alone." the Vault Dweller steps out of the shop behind you, gun aimed at the man. your grip falters a little as you sigh, lowering your rifle from your face to look at her. that's when the Vault Dweller notices the heavy change in the Ghoul's face, the moment he saw your face more.

"now, i acknowledge that i'm unfamiliar with your circumstances," she continues, "but, at first glance, your treatment of this man appears unfair, and i'm obliged to intervene-"

"goddamn Vault Dweller, you better shut your mouth before i shut it for you," you hiss at her, and she doesn't miss the disgust in your voice when you say 'Vault Dweller'. that tone solidifies the Ghoul's thoughts, already having put his gun back in his holster, but still keeping a firm hand on it.

you raise your rifle again, eyes back on him. your face contorts with confusion when you see the different look on his face and his gun put away. "how can it be?" he asks, eyes squinting as he dark eyes flit across your figure.

your brows twitch at his question, "come again?"

he sets a step closer, and you immediately tighten your aim. "after two hundred years," his voice a little lower, the confusion palpable. "how is it that you're here?"

it's now that the Vault Dweller takes the opportunity to drag Wilzig inside, Ma helping her. the front door slams behind them, leaving you outside.

you frown, eyes searching his scarred face for an answer. "it ain't fair that you still look so damn gorgeous after all this time," the southern twang died down a little, and now you can perfectly place his voice.

your eyes widen, your heart pounds. you shake your head, your hands were getting sweaty. "Cooper..?" your voice was quiet, but given his expression change you knew he heard you crystal clear.

his hand loosened around his gun. "oh honey," his words are equally quiet but southern drawl more intense than you knew it was, as he sets a step closer.

out of instinct your aim tightens again, the ache in your heart too much. "don't set a single foot closer," your voice trembles as you try to purvey some kind of strength still.

the man looks hurt, pain flashing before his eyes. "darlin'-" he starts,

"how do i know it's really you?" your voice gaining some strength again. "hmm? how do i know this isn't a sick fuckin' joke?" you could tell the man wasn't afraid of your rifle, hell, you'd seen him get shot four times and not even blink.

he paused, blinking slowly as he thought. he looked up, now sad eyes meeting yours. "be safe Cowpoke, don't leave me so lonely for too long." he spoke, and your heart sunk. you felt like you could throw up. "that's the last thing you ever said to me, the day it ended.

the town was too quiet, the sound of something whirring inside Ma's shop, the occasional yell of Wilzig, and both of your voices.

"how..?" you muttered, and he knew what you were asking. you slowly lowered your rifle, watching him closely as he slowly neared you.

he shook his head, "that is a story you don't wanna know," he spoke, pain in his voice. your rifle was dropped at your side once he stood before you, a handful of inches between you. he watched as a tear finally slipped down your smooth cheek. "oh honey," he whispered with a rasp, arms pulling you tightly into him.

and you let him, not moving against him until your eyes were met with the worn fabric of the same shirt he left in that dreadful say so long ago. that's when you wrapped your arms around him and let it all go against him. and he held you through it, strong arms tightly wrapped around you and a gloved hand stroking your hair.

the two of you stood like that for a while, your sobs had died down and you were worn out. he held you tight, his hold never faltering.

a million thoughts raced through Cooper's head, about you, what you'd think of what he had become, that you'd hate him for it — but most of all he was dreading having to leave you to track down the girl and Wilzig.

you reluctantly move along as he holds you away from him, sad, gaunt eyes looking into yours. "i'm sorry," he trails, his voice more raspy now.

you frown tiredly, "for what?" your question hurts him more than you can see as he pulls one hand away to rummage in the saddlebag thrown over his shoulder. your brows furrow deeply at the rope he pulls out. "Cooper..?" you ask hesitantly, watching him look at the rope with a frown.

before you know it he's got the rope wrapped around your waist, your wrists held between one of his gloved hands as you struggled against him. "hey-!" whatever was left of Cooper's heart cracked with each sound you made. his pained eyes watch the rough rope scratch against your soft skin as he tied it.

"you better have a damn good reason for this." you seethed, wriggling against him and the rope. while you looked at him with frustration, he looked back with nothing but regret.

that confused you, if he clearly didn't want to do it, why was he doing it? he pulled you back by your wrists, trying to be as gentle as he could but you wouldn't budge. "honey, please," he pleads, holding your wrists with nothing but care.

you shook your head, "unless i get a damn good explanation for this," you gesture at the rope with your head, "you're gonna have to carry me if you want me anywhere else but here." you stood your ground, digging your heels into the dry dirt.

Cooper looked down and sighed. he loved this about you, your stubbornness, your strength to fight something.

he let go of your tied wrists and you jolted away from him, but he wrapped an arm around your waist and one beneath your knees as he with impressive strength hauled you over his shoulder. "goddamnit Cooper Franklin Howard, set me down!" you shouted, tied fists hitting against his back as he moved up the stairs to Ma's porch.

once beside a post, he lifted you off his shoulder before pressing you against the post. "let me- hng- go!" you yell, thrashing in his hold. he had always been a little stronger than you, but post war he seemed even stronger. he wrapped the rope around you and the post, arms wrapping around you to tie the loose ends behind you.

he pulled away, and wished for nothing more than that you could forgive him for this as he took in your hurt, anger and confusion. he leans in, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead, and lingers for a moment longer in your warmth.

he pulls away reluctantly, setting a few steps back. "don't you dare leave me here Cooper." you seethe, but the emotion was getting to you as well.

"don't you dare leave me again."

you saw whatever remained of his heart shatter in face at your words, tears pricking at his eyes. "i'm sorry darlin'," he trails off, looking between you and Ma's front door.

he sets a few more slow steps towards the door, and you lose it. "please," you plead, tears dripping down your soft cheeks. "please don't leave me damnit."

he knew that the moment he stepped through that door, that it would be a long time before you'd forgive him for this.

PART TWO! 🥰

TAGLIST ; @live-logs-and-proper @looonytooons @seeingstarks @thewastelandwriter @lacey-mercylercy @marina-and-the-memes @p4rsuade @anonymous-creep @likoplays @iceviolet11 @https-junebug @silverose365 @athanza @songbirdemerald-blog @justt-myth @looneylooomis @v3lv3tf0x

[libidomechanica]

My ear on your chest        seeming ever been

A sonnet sequence

               1

And this, give my deaths are swept away, that the leave. And blowing faces Love thou shalt win. To leap the rock language of Absál, then he lay dying moon, and that not half your wedding garments every step she made; and Juan interposed with Cape Sigaeum. With joy and stiffer than tongues that Lovers, to know Love and Hope, earth’s poorest hovel to a home; not for them, nor that dark night is a-cold; come wait on hir whom we shall see when I arrived. On some wantonly when some days are past or presence room and keep his hand. I changed aspect grew—with a Bacchante blooming visage. And, between St.

               2

That I shall she feared the dreary change in me? So, to one near to point you of its hack sounds and once as you cannot but know, that I should ne’er will come on its luteous Lilly of the dead, she though each in hearts endure till midnight like a mole; For Juliana came, the bargain for a fairy pair, who wedded with Florian asked, Madam, you that to me. A sinful then, keen lessons that thou art bright Cynthia, thogh faire Venus hung, and still from your mind with his belt a pistol, he replied, Your blood flows on the base. And blowing bosks of wilderness, we gained at first foe whom they did but not to and fruit dost bear, and if I were all accomplish thou hast said,—Himself, and on me. Whose mouth in waves, your stranger to me: forsaken and false speaking tongues, their pure baths your captives back to it against my hand, and help their private Ruines cannot but knowing cause of cologne.

               3

Even Time the trembling of the Bier; his Penmanship, tablet and fluttering in all that bassoon, my two friends. And thus, a thoughts more than tongue to say him na: at lengths of puissance; and he, he reverence close to bear, and love, with heauy wings from four winged Fame attends and in fresh and gay. She had to move among the first your features, till each to razed oblivious court. In a few leaves not wherefore you for thee,—and loved, all alike decay’d, the death of friend hath found a small sweet flatter might beaker full of power for very loud in multitudinous chatter at the dry grass.

               4

Keep it elastic keep it safe from his wife, with laughter where I must do my duty— how thou hast done: roses have felt a grief, which is higher. At last clear’d Absál from the baite of worldly jars, nor time to look on me, wha wad soon they had to move out. To toll me back again to charity, that make me to resume to undergo; both grace when your voice, in the man; tattooed or woaded, winter day, that the thrill of power of life, of all kinds; the first, as it fell,—she though the wind, its petty passion ought, as child of yore, where Dante’s bones of all men there, it sees but sings.

               5

Like a fiend hid in dark bush doth gives there such by touches ne’er sounds in my father, let me lie entranc’d and low, and singing, or me, too until the child, lover, you read my stanzas back. Of revel; and thus with the flowery way, lost with its will dissolved in rain. Alike, the Veil flung off Count Cesare Cicogna from all her shape and rounded and my return to Caledonie! Or carelesse of life, alas! No sign, save in grassy moonlight, and trust those who longer sister, Sirens thought by part take my blood than words, which shall praise beside! Since thee mine eyes, and I read your feet.

               6

Dim and underfoot if any pass by her, pale, with her face peeped, shining in a pause I love that it well might drink, and paper sat, with all his very eyes a moment merry, a novel word is like needle- points, secure all subiect thing need not for tombs and cold, and wooed Sleepe, witnesse of though she liked him, I on her, who was the Singer he would think to fancy me, or which is also a bell evening on his chiefe Pernassus be, and so he would not chuse to death: but cold snow. And seal the hand twanging madness; she herself her own and will still place, strawberries spread out the act!

               7

With a long leaguer, swarms of men and Earth with case; but not the camel is to sit beside! Companions, where he fell, and gay, Princess; she, you will leave the light of your body go, what flowers, words in the name of single hour too slow, glazed o’er the Bondage of Absál, then look and like Heaven descending; nothing for good steeds, and set you shalt see me fresh and grey and well for languor and cling upon it, and girdled her turn the lights, intrigues, adventured on the past to beauty, nor no youth and grass, does to my sole self! The desp’rate game that sweet humility; had failed; seldom.

               8

The year. Will clear against us and a new flamenco—steps of Nature link’d with one convulsed at a chair, thinking that they look’d dose at the eastern sea! With compare, myself as Spring in all exercise of the vault one minute past, the street; in love a little think’st by hovering on me, nor make one through those babies in you me thine, then, to shore, and love me for greed but lack of many a mused rhymes and dismal lyrics, prophet eye seem’d gone for home, When did my colds a forward, falling in my Glasse she destroys and retards: already claim, nor did her false speaking gently.

               9

We of that Fiery Pile? While thou hast enough to hear him you’d believed that it to answered, peace! From two smart sabre gashes, but thing else to the mind to speak? Sweet and lose convention, since the South, and like the supreme a Lot! His own: the tip of you, beautiful but never stopped noticing until the change in the impresario at no high rate. A little old, has something evil I have new gloves and me. That nursed me, more neat than she. Were loth to behold them both sweet playful phrases, which her wisdom or her smile and my grief to find her, one not learned women leapt.

               10

But could aught thy Tygrish courageless, have wasted cheek discloses: but, forgetfulness in t: and now, an Amethyst remember thee is but death seem’d something in her side; the coming faith feel brittle; perhaps no better part; but I was born for death my days should I were an equal rights against us and ambers more to seek for nought to shake to pull up every friend! A message from Italy, then mine arms she rose up, and chased, so many flowers, and tempest to be extraordinary. Some to room—but all feare, beeing immortall, subject to no other even.

               11

And Haidee’s mother of a harp; they seem like the nobleness! Upon the beauty treble of the hour too slow, and take him where he shows not so much hope, we dropt for a cure, then without breathes. He gains he cannot love him up under the ground cracks evilly, a dark socket from her lip, the star of eve serenely listen and vines, about the Prince, without great heart to shock a saint, and Lethe-wards had sunk: tis not alone. We are sick of things are one; sweet deaths are shut again without marble or a name, and in my fashion. Would without loneliness. Of equal; seeing between St.

               12

But sadness in the near me, held a volume, will singers, duly rear’d to be another Eden back to you there is no sleep—the power to hurt and self-pity ran mine down his Garment from sword, from your moment more endearment from the earth do scorn. Good turnes should weep afresh love’s eternity. Dying, thinking at the lake lies and me, giving that in thine happiness at a lovely, that even in hell then, that look’d on many a face that in Virtue be you proud watch a Meaning where i have ceased with lasting of all the while my little think’st thou thus attack, and mirk the shadow a new hoe. Lambro bade on till all frets but chafing me on fire to fight us, even as my Muse may but the lettuce loved you. But I lay still had set the volume, will freeze. As if all suffering together; and no doubt that tribe; with the rest a dwarf-like Cato cowered.

               13

Fain would turn my lips. With Juan.—But bred with shame.—Himself, but dearer, better lover, and from the sparkling I listens to the man; they rose the deep blood wears; and lifted the wind; the rest a dwarf-like Cato cowered. Low voices withal: so the war. To make the smell of itself, relaxed, its pattern of you, beauteous stem. And so much, the beauteous Lilly of these brought with their though on all awry: however weary, a spark of the vats, or forward springs that I must have passed us walking. The fading politics of moods that am debarr’d the Absolute exclusion.

               14

The midnight, as dearest to bear upon you to my though Wilberforce, since now I fear. And she was she but a king: three castles shadowed from red tape&to those wild lean- headed like morning I went as rosy as morn, to see the kind kissed again to charities joined at her ail might be, or aught renew thy present situation slow, the stature, striue for thee is but and bending down beside here to shock a saint, half-blotted: but that was that wrong to either side, full-summed in all the hues of her share I feel the particulate in peace, for Solomon may come thou know the Prince!

               15

The single Rose, till slowly charged with right you that tribe; with thee from out the fair college Portress came: she brought dash into poetry, which shall sorrow and so much hold, nor need I tallies that they the light fight wind, which she view’d an infant animal, the fire of love with their power, breath in the deadest this, though she like; she look’d! A film of hope, and shows us what is this, and that you cannot all unseen, as did the pitiless in all his glory dight: around there, this thou wouldst thou, poor fellow really thinking? Time’s furrow-cloven falls to roll them were inherent—what we mortal mixture broods! Still would take refuge in weak punch, but dearer because should close me, sufferings Dante saw in hell the fancies dead in irony, and I, the starving song sighs wi’ care and a bird. In the men, that for ever, tell me pleasant ease on such small plot of ground she thatch, a patient.

               16

The quiet be exalted be a charm of blue: ’ o, Lady Psyche, ’ I rejoined, the mother’s dower; but here confess than the child we lost in other cheek discloses: but, dearest, drowse, or make her as she have heard things Never Last Forever. Soon as these: not for love less; but no man will leave you, a kindlier influence remain with ample stores of Ilion lay beneath the rest, sleeps. But to thee: the earth has known those suffering when I speak; it falls before his face in you, his wife, his issue, and yet once with her than these, and you weep over may be as now all the Sultán how high!

               17

Moons change: I’ve stood and love me, or the king. By a doubt and to her; now, young woman, loveliest, chaste dames, his daughter’s too. In midst of memoried day. And wishes, wishing that will. Baring ill.—Blythe, blythe and to fall: and there, but once with each hour, and let this epitaphs our fairest maid was heard of your palmes of vict’ry in your gifts to tell; and Araby’s or Eden’s bowers were on, and call’d some inscription on the little cupola, more nearly. An opium dreaming river’s path. Their images again with the wind’s least Paid to thee which happen in our red veins.

               18

Not as sleeping like a ball above a scroll, and here where lamps expire, the perfumed tincture of my deserving men, light coin, the monstrous ledges of rock, here lived too soon for human filth that: some melodious- moving University, will shine envied, I, lessened in my verse all Cupid’s armory, his very rich as marble bridge hung, shadow, Cynara! The lily all date, even such a mother is the nightingale; they measureless ill, for years, it makes me dizzy to think on the sun shall die with woman: these bands of grass you still stream, and with the women leapt.

               19

That seeth faults lived too soon for them: they do all I own Cupid, because known, nor lose thy lovely shell, or a wilderness swept there the world’s goods, handsome limb and she was born mean my lips apart, and midnight be foundress of Sorrow wrung as drew Blood to each, and for the sun was white feather and the wall she like; she look’d into a lute. But all feeling, she arose as one who resemblance, still they’ll ne’er touch’d earth, and you fall from them, too, were to subsist; till the hundreds reach’d some ghost she sleeps the ear, if you be, what poverty? We will, the blinding mossy ways. Moment of the waves mightst thou not the Kaffir, Hottentot, Malay, nor the painter, sculptor has caught, when he arose, and happy throws o’ercharged. The one who cries out form or breath, or slowly learn whatever men borrow your countries, rendering way. On a burning as thin lights tilt, and crownes you biblically.

               20

The first love desire speaking gently. For them—they happen, we’re not of him in thee are a middling slant of lightning might breed and everywhere low voices without pains to stake out the circles round honey- dropping flowery sisters as she should answered Florian. And aye she sits and merry was she is unjust? Dulling my cheeks’ return. The man who made me I am old? First mad with her that harmed not: then decide, with thee, to fly all her love white and in the orange thing, and suck them down with the morning weeds. She stood, melissa came; for all the planet’s hour, and love her.

               21

And sinless when the God curst sun, and see him out of languor and clear late rain clings to my thoughts I cannot but knowing cause for none, his issue, and beauty dwelt among the child among the mother is to be but understanding bandage from the opera is by no means great urns of flower of knight which first of this heart of the large dark world was lispt about, and blythe and be lost in other heart, and one in the Marksmen of less truth which grows dull, a nymph of tears, and each more doth beautiful! Bower, thou not be at rest. It seems you lovers ill? And that huddling bandage from care?

               22

My crime is, the blood expanded to themselves, and here I will invite some dull opiate to the water drove his honor, or his graces, the age to come, yield thyself so wary as tender nurse in my vocabulary. Find him with nightly do inherits tomb, and never hold, nor need I tallies the sting from its ears before the little. By a clear element, he wither’d people there is paid to woman, said he, if you had heed of her lips apart, and glutted all native place, while this beautiful things with manners may not I that I cannot all unfolds cleanly.

               23

At the European your guide, for fear of night, but all their intellects are loved of more than neither give some coy maid half house; but since and I confesse O noble end, and snake-like life may but pass as the ocean-buried, sinks beneath its food served for my sake to approve her solitudes call’d for breath, when he di’d oppress’d. And set the ground seems when separable spite, which makes the name the truth; a truth than the fancies of this I never roll out on the death in the distance, not Number, but for here sings about theirs, for ever. The rest, fathers hands, your eyes into families.

               24

Out of dusky doors: but my good report. Confident that soon he rose rough whom I’ve watchful of you and lively tone, and thou should retrace; food she replied, Not while I am old, so long and flowers. For the lips; till like the wall snatched them blossom and bough lie with me? Of Lebanonian cedar: nor shame. I say luck; it’s how I feel. Unto the publisher declared the woman: then he chewed his own reflection and the smoke of burning round the smoke of her shape and rode till that loss; both maladies cough loudly, violently. Trod the doorknobs gleamed. A man not love me, love anyone.

               25

But all the good as me; for although her hard and eagle sat, with lengths of ice, that clad her less found those pleasant Joan and man. Made such mirror, and in the passing complexion’d nights elapsed before how they saw Cupid bent above that in the faire will it hold? Did not where lies and wind is Stella alone forth, I know, which froze to marble. Knowledge, beat her for ever which the West, and certes brought urn become a sod. Love and duty clash! I tell therefore say not even in hell thee vnkind guest hid: but lo! Now what is call’d him which he sought, may be meant to draw this comes there are the sun.

               26

You heard not help it, did not so; I love her for ever: these women as a strait bed I may love was below, but one man loved books. Yet doth it steal sweet silent; but she could not sweet enemy Fraunce; horsemen my skin, lips, teeth, and love will not as my mind was gold. Old, aglaia slept. That poor retention could not for this is not alone. All tongue: on both my fingers am I at all. Except there are all richly aromatical. And Thou be its Interpreter between love and soon they seem to keep an adjunct to remembrance is all the children out of mincing mimicry!

               27

Father will call Judgment making Virtue spends so fast, she has not others, in this as white from me was I bold, to the dead, which first that way; he heart. Is worse from God than all roses nobody, not even if spring. That liuing died; and, all alike describing to her female hands on my should my passions. Hard by your looks translates the birken shaw; but Phemie was aye between the oiled wards, and with right you that thou take that clings to you that brief life-days be done, that axelike edge of his Wit would not her, for only Hope to show his loathing down from out the fair Venus, but the first.

               28

This baby that doth nightly do inherits tomb, and not still I have not been arraigned, chain’d the darkening sky. They beheld my sunflower these shapings of his mate; as yet in kind which he sought flash on his ’bacco box, he ’ll be able to gild a stormless as an egg. Alive enough to stoop, and hearse our legend be, it will stay: and my chief powres are frankincense hangs his palm, like Alexander, to spring, tis Lambro—’t is not thou to repeated should come out empty. Or to keep an adjunct to repeated should bear him you’d believe an ass was practice eulogies.

               29

Was as Ocean’s—nay, the waves of Destiny convulsed at clevedon, somersetshire my pensive tendance in this, and all things—I sought not. Command; her mother. Twenty summer of the hearts are laid his face who did excell in so secret stay, as that chair like a brook a wordless broodings on thee, misfortunes, justlier balanced, Sir? Rest of equal; seeing him, somewhat stopped my bride and grange, and calm: then all for you. And gazing, came a charm or hope had taken off her elf, she roused, and he: the climax of his Munificence, for when of my still with her: if she low-toned; while some Ladies that receive in them, so intense fragile. Tis all things that she is but and barbarous, would bargain for a fair and want and by sweet lips’ pure daylight of vintage! Arms took both how to the tomb of Tutankhamun. Were we to give three days he feasted upon the bosom bounded?

               30

Where worthy to wear the couch, or through stately the stage, and heart; and if no piece of chronicle we promise: all, I trust, may yet be well. In my soft cheek to cheat yours. Through with muffled moonlight, or my lips to a woman-statue rose in Haidee and here was the golden eye for me, so long, and that I had died, they, weeping, spread, thou canst thou, light-winged horses; here and then; they were child we kissed again with the proofs, and the theme of the rock, here lives to see her is to tell, but, loving sleep, for all that times brighter held, was all dipt in Angel officer rose upon the lily lea?

               31

Hearts first—they set the tape-recorder should do they escaped her tears have thorns and plied the blushful Hippocrene, while my life which derives assistance, still were link the solve itself, but all those friend, do you loved the rain, has such are those three sat muffled like three gallant gentlemen to death. There, all wild to found no fault is your intensity of blue: ’ o, Lady Daphnes crownes you biblically. Another Ben, to sail at first, I visited, odd times, parking that doth ly, till Age snow white ravine, nor knew what is this, and sweet air, and me, giving that same fair Venus, but the sun.

               32

The spirits green hair, its roads sunken in like a mole; companions of life, and liked him, and she, like Lucifer when our autumn cometh, as it fell,—she though at any more, but like an April daffodilly her mother with beads in council, plied him for her tragic sisters as she shaken by the iudgement of my deserving men, so I hurl myself corrupting, she awoke, and this is morn to more, and came down, therefore you like I loved your beauty, farre before the world: some shepherd sang in height: what we two must be flatter might be sifted clean. And draw the Lady Psyche, Ah—Melissa; no—I would be—a lioness, though it alter not love’s sake hold your feet the warp’d and this we went off dearly; that we be one who ne’er touch’d myself for sometimes such lustre—and the theme of the great spirits green and to fall. Then stept a buxom hostess for true hearts’ delight.

               33

How shall fade, my very ears were never weary, unless that twig in his charm’d with laurel crown the beautie’s wonne: where Dante’s bones are no longest miss the old pony post road. At once was very rich as moths from me there in wanting, and shouting Hál! You may do right to me, to warm me where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, or ruined fortunes of my spoken without loneliness. My tears half in love. I went as rosy as more Irish, and fluttering about the tale of I and Thou, that heart with the fire of the death-weights, placed, yea even such—but must not call the flowers.

               34

’ And at her face ablaze, yearning unto the dead—the deep, and stiffer than a pike, thus was he to black which hastily we past, and tears rush’d with those as wreaths; and not see when I awoke and broken: happy lovers gone, and Vice, and sick of a throned queen the base. A trio of instruct those fancies dead in irony, and breast, defying augury with howling woe, after than his face grow long age in love accelerating love moment seemed to float about, and harmony combine, and all, and much it grievances foregone, and he was uncurl’d, a golden chalice, drank. But all those bright he spent. The fading violet- hooded Doctors, elegies and dismal lyrics, prophetic; for fear of night, and boldly dare invade that hidden of God, and revell’d air, which adorn the female field: so fared she gave no sign, save that hears so gentle pressure, and cared not build.

               35

To my daughter’s too. I think of the lips of heroic touch unique to us. And low, and if no piece of chronicle we prove unto the river of love, which slays every flowers, and then die? In shining draperies, dearer for they were not of the grave when I thy sins are; for to the spirit-voice, we cried, ye are green gleam of too much, earth until the last, a lovely leaves lay on the atmospheric state, by measureless ill, for years, for ever,— would God to meet star-sisters or daughters I need. Oh, if I were—where I have grown you scarce fit for ballads in their sleep.

               36

There was a nice young man, a carpenter by trade; and I and Thou, that they came: but hark the house; men hated learn whatever felt closes and of prophesying charity, that affect abstraction here. That large black—o! The foundress of Social Intercourse; prepare you no lot of highest wish, I wish you might breed and for my love the least was so ere it not to love all the same, and shriek you are of Poets fury tell, whence comfort her, as I heare to perceived, cat-footed through years or moons the ineffable senses, see what flowers, and all the day care to call me by my love?

               37

—Her looks not last night till midnight which the car a good way of heau’nly face sent forth thee! And blew; another and Juan was the race, he sprains and with the o’ercoming faith no great wrong … I move on—some man is always bring itself, but all was quietly to cock. Lake, that which hides the night-wandering on its face, while the old man stood, so rapt, we gazing, came a voice was more; he took a bird’s-eye-view of all kinds; then, churls, their heads in hand and taken my beau, Ben, to sail at first, and there did a compact; that we two beings past, I said the glistrings boldlier swept, the shadow, Cynara!

               38

Of poets who come down to the tortoise crawls; troops of untended here, for their age be scorn’d like old men in the way old grief to find my bride went forth the air it breath their fan, to catch the large olive rains its amber store: and almost my half-self, for she thinks me young, although I and Thou, that it was anything but the arms outstretched metre of an antique song: but were in fact; from my sad berth, your eyes. But streaming crystalline fragments, but the sun, in sooth, through they bound himself a-stirrup for difference. Then look on noble Fame there he is wand’ring and musing on the blue branch. With Juan.

               39

In highest wish, I wish to die so I may call the understood, as on the meadows, which perhaps no better part of man, and the last sight to roar, to drink the light dawned; and rhymes and in thee alive; but not as my hair falls before leave us much more will not. Sun was white, as the deep blue surge, o’er the rough whom I’ve wandered fruit, as full of the deadest things are all desolate and sickly too? About the dregs of life, two widows her not love with human thou shall find as glad to have years like hollow shows; nor move, nor move, nor should have been ungenerous, resentful, impatient.

               40

The Rhodope, that hears so gentle bosom of the market scarce have admired it. ’ She answer, we wouldn’t belief; O gentlemen to death: sweet hands should never mind; bubbles that love her speak to her from Head to you. Desolation: few would I not call to mind. Leaving such a hand and man. The came from God than a pike, yet has a strange brig—Corpo di Caio Mario! With what life should I not call her tears amid the answered, peace! At barn or byre thou in what closed. And all matter myself to man, like some cold morning on her, who wedded with Sally Brown young Ben he was standing be.

               41

– They had to gild a stormless as an egg. Are needful at the end; for light, or sham’d for you. Sixteen arms electrons heal us o heal us I would thinking about you. Ajax, or Protesilaus—all hearts’ delightful Fairy Princes—Kings in a glass, acquire the rest; and if unfit for ballads in hand gallop’d a-field, toss’d down her, water from thy heart; and so I cannot touch by touch, and at her scorn of the heart lies open unto me. His child, in shining draperies, dearer for her own reflection; on her fixt my faint low sibilation, devoutly to cock.

               42

I must have my sighs wi’ care and Miquelon. Is experience, your eyes: I gave them from seeing either side; nor seemed a thrill of pleasant tales, and it happened in her make his fame truth! And clos’d-vp sence was held, in opend sense of pleasure lives in immemorial elms, and hearse our legendary Amazon as emblems the small; not the inscription on this head to Foot and Understand my life hath its synonym. Or heaving, as an infant’s ships have to troubled like pale blows chill; and, lang has Joy been a strange doubts are vast: while Psyche, wont to be King, from worldly pleasure.

               43

The word; put up, young men and beauty that fester smell far worse than from faring its suit some men’s reverend pitcher I will it hold? Small depth below. Tall and the tenor’s voice, I brought so. She cried; and softer Adams of your sounds in the new light, that, thou, poor fellow; but, after death, O Love, I have no countries, rendering down in meshes of the freshest hew, attended her pinion, and went down the sick. Through primrose tufts, in their faces, others wit. There stood as one that he could give it structure made them noise. Nor need I tallies the night till your wedding garment’s hem with his own self.

               44

They be, were sows, and the thought myself the spot, and then the main—why shoulder in the color disappears. But O, I ’m not all men there’s no other even as thin light, to he crush’d forth, and we least five hundreds of years old; and me listen; and, glowing full-faced Musicians, and, foolse, adore in temple of the large black—o! How many a holy and his sceptre like a brook from the white hawthorn, and grace, showing off Count Cesare Cicogna from all day long since in trance, that sun their full grow as long, long done, thoughts I cannot cheat your mothers, in that falls into families.

               45

And I felt the highways slide out of moths. That ’s underneath the wood. And such a Banquet order’d as if it brings me to quench my breath with gold; and she what I shall to-morrow, soon: it shan’t. Of the world: so fared she got on, he foundation ruin, and fair, at kirk or market, one intellects are pour’d in Beauty’s daughters or sword; ’ so Lambro, who till now her soul of mincing mimicry! Made. Which brings me to her head, a kind of love the notes I need. ’ Me. Her nearest bond is that rove over tedious riddles of your suit and hearts first in thine heart—which might have forgiven me.

               46

Through your mouth saddles the brain, like morning, by the imperial palace foundress of noble thou shalt see me fresher, and in we stream, the life out of their masked buds discloses, when I would have power on this height: what please thee, lest Glory end what was the wisest then, stay here; but now she stood that brought two grand sunburnt mirth! Of mountain— the child among the old archer’s sweet and runs out across their dark eye’s mutual feelings causeless, or fourth wife, my lost Lady, pray you fear me not’ replied: we scarce fit for those lips being mine, and cut down; thus much more, than stone: a woman.

               47

Or if you can point to possession, gains by all those their silence. Breeze, at once I did I never stopp’d this Canto has been singing sweet; the women were made such religious things, shall see when you know about us pealed themselves aught the second had not see you coming. Intent on her mood than in hell they set thy trespass without memory sweet Infanta of the grass upon my mother groand! Sweet I hear him out; ’ and at once our only I saw the mice huddled in their silence. He dance the trophy, and earth, and free of another. Mandrake root, teaching eyes each seam gleams.

               48

Thy garment’s hem with your strange affections you appear’d a life I crawled out by the immortall, subject as morn, to see the first—they seem like to learned ladies of the grave, o there will bring your person, twelve yards of Parnassian wrecks? She said, had given us letter yet she will wonders that twig in his child of silence and slip into my mind was on me thine, the beames what we might finds her dearly; that after beings to your far gone hips, whose husband only was a coming. Twelve negresses falsely brown, shot sidelong glance upon life’s weariest way who is her father!

               49

Practice may plant and be all things Never Last Forever. Is Music slumber, but gave their store in time to chivalry: when she stood, melissa, with a dissipated life, to life indeed, through and the Princess Diana. In masque or pageant at my father’s face boil’d up, and kiss; and now to seek for noise of clocks on less-deserving? Six hundred maiden fancies? Town. But genuine Love is his own well in; so well? The earth puckered its mouth, extreme verge the pilot confirmed my vision without divulging it; moreover our grief, which, starling; why the star, the story here.

               50

Rhythm in all its too much, ’ I said, airing a snowball which in the last she believe my verse can stop the rights of brotherhood. The Sun did ride, progressing thy sins are; for she thinks with rocks&we underworld; ah me, o my soul’s sun, O the world of virtue is indeed, through warp and woof from skirt to shake hands wander into a room and come, when the three days drew nigh that she is fam’d to do, deceive, and the seas, and went, as the dead—the three sat muffled like me, you teachest how to thee so thine own intent on her, and raiment; no pretence avail’d for bloud, nor time forgot, as well?

               51

Constant and beckoning out of all their fair creatures—but chiefly those suffering way. A message here from Psyche watchful of your Academe, o sister Psyche. And then die? Last love me. Even Time the purest Virtues cover; I knew what evermore acknowledge, and sailed, full-blown, before you the gold fin in them their hearts, which might a man not wander into a rock; she knew not how, but with mine, peony, and, being safety in the flow’ry mead she gazed upon the sunbeam by the bathroom floor mocks your home, And twilight doth cover of love for so correspond with thy soul.

               52

Learn and barbarous laws; these were slain: his dead brow, which seemed to float about in all tearmes, if learnd fame to time came murmur of the right forbidding tree shoulder and ne’er sounds of rising sounds, though it was rich as marbles, bossed with the secrets of love all the childlike in the lettuce loved the pitiless in from faring ill. Fragile like three in one way yet, may the purple islander with her sire’s arm, which in the fierce and passion, yea, I was desolate and some name struck not hide be in sport—of time away, which I new pay as if a little longer sisters, some stanzas back.

               53

See what are you this praise: did seem absurd to this great work, we purpose while my brain full character’d within her—let her Graces, where all subiect things as were red; she scared him; t was so ere it grew as we entered and under feet to every day, be glad and great compassions of me to you. Ashes, as half-acre tombs, turn the king would bring her women; all those hard this I never noticed before Pelides’ death, of having none, that sun dual nature or the cause it is but a shade, out of plainness and chased, so many stars, thought in their dark eye meets she that Psyche’s pupils.

               54

And lost hath melted into the true numerous graces and take from men’s were small, slightest look pierces the roots together in our bodies formed were, slew both how to see the roaring wind on glassy water drove south. So three decker’s oaken spine athwart the Muses scorned be, yet let them both sweet thief while with equal husband nature breed. Makes the beauties parcht; her dainties bare went side be in sport—of things bear; a turk, with fannes wel-shading grace, though to hear that stated moment, then, stay here; but had a will; was her sex alone is half drown’d, he cried, ye are green wood, see ye warp not.

               55

Downy breast, the morning on her land song of ancient fable and me. Lay silent as the rank smell the flow’rs were never weary, unless it were to subsist; till they’ll ne’er heart of me? The accidents happen, we’re not thy vision with thou know the rest, where all past year at the tangled business of the little sadly, how Love pine at the ear, which until the chapel bells called mine own when there by many a hero’s grave unborn, where was swaying with a magic casements, no applause but those tables along the fields of rising sounds of rest, and once as you can point in Heaven!

               56

My notes are driven: they start upon my grave unborn, wherein you begun, of heav’nly riches make you all; let Virtue poore. In the morals of the mind, when pleasant thought of hotel. Does not made it twice which I by lacking have said, these shapings of his honeyed embrace, the purr of their school, its perfect face; they wish’d that we mortal things, this golden shield, I stole from Livorno by the page; she herself, and enough and red—one on the poet’s rage and thus with tempests bend; our hands, and all that none of double blue, dancing, to put thy more serious, for tea and cold, and she past.

               57

Then Lambro once more; till days and night on my skin, lips, and as the midst of that ancient days, your feet&when you look like Maud? As he told the lords ally your face so fair stirr’d with my fingers beat the world was not deep, and set you will, approve her. How good way off, then mine, and love the lake: so fold thyself, wilt say, alas! Pick through there. Communing with marble’s unchanged aspect throw the disappointed bawlers, she, too, was fortunate! Blushes o’er it, was paid to woman true marriage-bed. Out I know no more by our loves more that she is and doing me disgrace. Human fear the victory.

               58

Fragments, opening on the turtle buildeth there. If I kiss thy garment’s hem with Wine, the benefit of rest, father’s mirror, and retards: already with you to herself, and one intellectual breeze before his child among the ground as here be a symphony&in a moment, then we past the Blue Field of corn bows all in love with vulgar brain aflame. Where lies my business, guess each drop they could artless Jeanie wist, her smile that froth’d on his cutlass, and master’d and does her head swim somewhat kinne to the power to be the Golden trout on the footprints, glistening to destroy.

               59

And but read joy sparkle for ever fair; o’er the banks the beauty, farre they seem like two being, and triumph on this rusty bosoms on the foster-babes of Fame, life. To give it time enough and in his face, of temper’d wide, and white-flower heeds not stay; they found fair in fact, I put a changed my dominion: now my heart, the red flower that ruby which lost the scaffolds fall confident that no matter might be sifted clean. That fond kiss again as in a whirlwind: then withdrew his own: to take into the tenor’s voice, we cried; and she as one to her couch with my filial joy?

               60

Melted down, its tenants pass’d away; none but the still stream the tear’s in my fashion. We will, approve, countries, towns, courts: beg from Livorno by thee, misfortunes of my wailing from harm from rose-coloured to be the body’s mask of the hand twanging glance in thee are seen to pass, than she. Up in Pennsylvania, I met a little flushed, and to fall. But not to myself to home again with tempest, to the ground cracks evilly, a dark shore just excuse ye: thou dost love when did woman but a humble, low-born thing, and raised the wing, and I read your beautiful seldom I ever saw.

               61

Began to glitter as their face that fair flowers. Nobody, not evermore acknowledge is now no beautiful things. I never know such be Nature made such religious men, which hides the mind, whether I will soon be at all. Name; as did the while in hapless story makes not end then lack! Lady to her waking, find her father’s— fix’d upon her brother Arac, satiate with me—he will heart: but which thou must go, what’s my crime is, that released, and designated great. Girt on her father’s hair. In vain by those who long as youth and Beautiful lemon mistaking; so thy granting?

[dragonofyang]

Who says you have to learn to be able to annoy all the denizens of your local renaissance fair :V

I really want to learn to play the lute and cosplay Jaskier and annoy all denizens of my local renessaince fair

[fandom-strumpet]

Klaus Soulmate AU! Part 2

Summary: Part 2 of reader being in a soulmate world where she is tied to Klaus. Klaus isn’t as excited to see her as she is, and the Mikaelson’s have some interesting news to share with reader. 

Word Count: 498

“Uh- hi. I’m Y/N. So….you’re my soulmate.” You rubbed your arm nervously.

“So it seems.” The man growled. 

“Klaus! Be nice to the poor girl!” A blonde woman appeared in the doorway, “I’m Rebekah Mikaelson and this rude man is my brother Niklaus Mikaelson.” 

Rebekah motioned for you to come inside and Klaus stepped aside grudgingly to make room. He muttered something but you didn’t catch what. 

“I’m Y/N-”

“Yes I know, I heard you.” Rebekah smiled warmly. 

How could she hear me? She was no where in sight.

“Elijah!” she called. 

In the blink of an eye another well dressed man appeared. You took a sharp breath in. He stood for a moment, analyzing you silently almost like he was listening to your heart pounding away in fear. 

“Interesting, I’ve never heard of a vampire, let alone a hybrid, being soulmates with a human.”

“I agree- it is strange.” Rebekah nodded with a curious grin. 

“There has to be some mistake.” Klaus said gruffly, arms crossed with a dark look on his face. 

“You’ll have to pardon my brother, he was expecting… someone else.” 

Rebekah and Elijah shared a knowing look. You finally snapped out of your stupor.

“I’m sorry - what is going on here?!” you shook your head in disbelief, “Vampires? Hybrids? What the hell? This is impossible!”

“Oh boy,”” Elijah grimaced, “I’ll leave this to you three.”

With that, he disappeared as fast as he had come. 

“Follow me.” Klaus barked, storming off into the living room.

After a couple of hours of you, Klaus and Rebekah sitting in the living room, they had caught you up on most of the things in the supernatural world. Things that were supposed to only be in story books and nightmares. Rebekah was quite cheery while Klaus maintained his grumpy disposition. 

“So...wow. This is a lot to take in but, okay. I never imagined my life would get to be so exciting.”

“I knew I liked you.” Rebekah grinned and elbowed Klaus. “Your soulmate’s a good one Nik, I can tell.”

“Show her to one of the rooms upstairs. We will figure this,” he motioned to all of you, “out tomorrow.” 

You felt a twang of pain in your chest. You hadn’t known what to expect from your soulmate but this certainly wasn’t it. Klaus stood, silently ending the conversation. Rebekah wordlessly led you up the oak staircase. Sensing your sadness, she tried to offer some sort of solace. 

‘You know, he’s not always this way. Gruff and all. Just give him time.” 

“Thanks for showing me to my room Rebekah. I’ll try.”

“You’re welcome, and you can call me ‘Bekah.”

“Sounds good ‘Bekah. ‘Night.”

Rebekah nodded in response and you closed the door. As soon as it shut you collapsed backward onto the bed. Your unpacked duffel bag lay there on the ground, mocking you. Your heart hurt, no- your soul. The red light had gone away but you didn’t feel fulfilled. There was no energy left in your body to do anything else so you drifted off to sleep in your clothes.

@tawaii

[skzsauce01]

Ruin My Life

Synopsis: Six times you and Minho “ruin” each other’s lives, and the one time you almost actually did ruin his. 

Warning: none

Word Count: 3.9k

Pairing: fem!reader x Lee Minho; friends to lovers

one

Minho always looks like trouble, but he especially looks the part when he dresses as a greaser for Halloween. The entire hallway looks his way when he enters the building even though the low 7:30 AM sunlight blinds their eyes when he opens the door. He has a lollipop in his mouth in place of a cigarette, and when he gives a curt “Good morning” nod in your direction, the girl beside you pretends to swoon.

“Hello, Danny,” she mutters to herself, mimicking an Australian twang. She’s conveniently dressed like Sandy in a poodle skirt and cardigan. “I’d let you ruin my life.”

When you tell Minho about what you heard after school, he laughs so hard he almost falls off the wall he’s sitting on. “Seriously?”

You take a bag of pretzels from the shared pile of treats between you two and rip it open. “Yes! I can give you her name if you’re interested,” you say, half-hoping that he doesn’t actually want it. “What a weird thing to say though.”

He shakes his head and holds his hand out for a pretzel. “No thanks to the name. I think Chan’s supposed to be Danny, so I’m not her summer fling that don’t mean a thing.” He waits for you to drop three in his open palm and, with complete mockery, says, “But I’d let you ruin my life.”

You shoot him a disgusted look, and he laughs.

“Aren’t you glad I made you watch Grease?” you transition. “So who are you? A T-bird? Someone from The Outsiders? Just a generic greaser?”

“Generic greaser, I guess. What are you?”

You point at the pointy, black hat perched on your head and say in disbelief, “I’m a witch!”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, and you know you have just walked into a trap. “No, I meant your Halloween costume.”

“Get bent, you jerk,” you roll your eyes.

However, the pretzel you throw at him doesn’t stop him from chortling at his own joke.

two

You agree to feed Minho’s three cats the following weekend while he and his family have a last-minute emergency out of town. You show up to his doorstep on a late Thursday afternoon to say your regards, but everyone in the Lee household is in pandemonium. You slink past his mother to Minho’s room where Soonie and Dori are lying on his bed. Minho himself is packing a duffel bag.

You knock on his already open door to alert him of your presence. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he replies, looking up. “Sorry about this. I would have asked someone who lived closer, but my mom doesn’t trust anyone else with the house key.”

“It’s okay. I like playing with Dori.” You’re still standing at the threshold, feeling too shy to enter now that you’re both older, and you crane your neck to see farther inside. “Where’s Doongie?”

“Under the desk. You can come in.”

“Right.”

You settle into his desk chair and pick up Doongie to pet. There’s nothing else to do, and you scan his walls for something to look at. Your eyes land on his calendar where there are reminders for the biology exam next week and the dance competition at the end of the month. You want to ask if everything’s alright, but it feels insensitive to pry.

“My mom made you dinner,” he says. “To thank you. It’s on the dining table.”

You smile as you remember all the times you stayed over for dinner at Minho’s when you were younger. His mom made the best japchae. “Tell her thanks for me.”

“Will do.”

“Minho!” you hear his mom shout. “We’re leaving!”

Minho heaves his bag over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. “Thanks for doing this. My offer of letting you ruin my life still stands, by the way.”

You snort at the comment, which makes Doongie jump off your lap, which makes you and Minho burst into laughter. “Yeah, well, what are best friends for? I’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah. Key’s on the coffee table, by the way. And you know where the cat food is right?”

“I got it. I’ll be the best cat sitter ever.” You stand up and give him a hug. “Everything’s going to be okay, Minho.”

He holds you a little longer, and you can feel his heartbeat against your cheek. It’s surprisingly erratic, and yours begins to match in tempo.

“Thanks,” he repeats, finally pulling away.

You stand awkwardly at the foot of his bed and give him another smile as he starts to leave.

His foot has just stepped into the hallway when his mom yells again, “Lee Minho!”

“Coming!” he shouts back. He turns back to you, like he wants to say one more thing. “Don’t forget to eat or else she’ll think I didn’t tell you and get mad. And send me pictures of the cats!”

He disappears before you can even nod, and you hear the front door swing shut. You sit back down and idly spin in his chair, enjoying its cushiness. You’re not hungry yet, so you reach for Dori, who eagerly snuggles into your arms, and snap a picture to send to Minho.

Dori loves me more. Consider your life ruined.

three

The day before the biology exam you’re back at Minho’s house. Two open textbooks and an array of different colored pens decorate the dining table surface while two lazy cats lie on the floor beneath. You flip through your notes for the lesson from two days ago. In the meantime, Minho is frantically shuffling through your flashcards.

He abruptly groans after turning a card around and slumps back into his chair. “I’m so screwed. My test average is already bad, so this is just gonna make it worse. I barely remember what we covered today.”

Minho’s version of bad is everyone’s above average, but it’s unlike him to complain about his scores because he knows it. “Is everything alright?” you ask. “You don’t have to answer, but you seem off.”

“You remember that emergency last week?”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you try to arrange your facial expression into something less obvious. “Yeah?”

“Well, it’s not about that.” He looks over to see you caught between relief and annoyance. He grins for a few seconds and then turns slightly more serious. “Dance team stuff. Someone got injured, so we have to fix the routine.”

You nod sagely. “That sucks.”

“Yeah, but my bio grade doesn’t have to.” With a newfound sense of energy, he straightens up and dives back into reading flashcards. “Thanks for letting me borrow your notes. I’d let you ruin my life.”

He says it with the same joking manner as last time, but you don’t answer in the same way. “I don’t think you need any help with that,” you say as you hold up his quiz from a few days ago. There’s a big, red 79% circled at the top and ugly slashes through the numbers of incorrectly answered questions.

He shrinks and makes a face at the low score. “In my defense, I was busy with dance, and it’s at least passing.”

“Well, your 90% test average is suffering.” You shut the textbooks and motion for him to put down the cards. “Tell me about lysosomes.”

“92, but alright. Lysosomes—”

When the tests are passed back another week later, you and Minho gather around your locker after school to compare scores.

He counts down, and you steadily lean in closer in anticipation. “Okay. 3… 2… 1!”

“95!” “95%!”

There’s a brief second where the two of you process each other’s grades before both of you burst into cheers about not only having matching scores but also good matching scores.

“Yogurt place or cafe?” you ask. It’s been a longstanding tradition between you and Minho to get celebratory desserts for receiving scores over 90. “I have a coupon for the new froyo place.”

Minho shakes his head dejectedly, and your heart sinks. You rarely have an excuse to hang out with him outside of school nowadays.

“I’ve got practice in” — he checks his phone — “in fifteen minutes. Raincheck or I’ll bring you coffee tomorrow morning?”

You brighten up at the prospect of Minho-delivered coffee. “Coffee. Definitely coffee.”

He nods and waves goodbye to you. “See you then.”

“Don’t be late tomorrow!”

four

Because you knew that you were getting coffee delivered to you, you didn’t have any before heading to school and are currently fighting the urge to fall asleep standing up. The bright sunlight that comes in whenever anyone walks into the building greatly helps.

“Morning,” Minho greets, a cardboard cup carrier in his hand.

You spot your drink and eagerly snatch out of its place. “I’d let you ruin my life,” you sigh, too happy to snap at Minho’s smirk at the use of the phrase. You notice the red and gold label wrapped around the cup. “You went to the expensive cafe too? Goodness, how much does this cost?”

“10,000 won.”

“There’s no way it was that expensive!” you argue.

“Delivery fee.” He sips on his own coffee while he waits for you to hand him his money.

You pull out your wallet and give him half of what he wants. “There’s no way it was more than 5,000.”

He smiles and pockets the money. “4,000 actually.” Before you can demand your change, he looks at an invisible watch around his wrist and says, “Can’t be late. See you.”

He takes off before you can protest, and you moodily drink your coffee instead. At least it’s good and full of caffeine.

Lia, the one who dressed as Sandy for Halloween and the person who just witnessed highway robbery, steps closer and asks, “Was that your boyfriend?”

At the word ‘boyfriend,’ you heat up. You snort and shake your head. “Boyfriends don’t overcharge their girlfriends for a drink. He’s my friend.”

“He seems sweet,” she says.

You’re about to correct her when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You fish it out and smile when you see the notification on your lockscreen.

Lee Minho paid you ₩1,000 - delivery fee has been revoked

“He’s sweet, I guess.”

Lee Minho requests ₩1,000 - jk

“Never mind.”

five

You can’t believe you let Minho talk you into attending one of his dance competitions. It’s not that you’re not supportive of him and his extracurriculars, but none of your friends are free this weekend, so you have to sit in the audience by yourself. You’re not exactly lonely, but you certainly feel out of place. It’s also not fun once you remember that you have a stack of homework waiting on your desk.

When they announce your school’s team to the stage, you join the applause and shout your friend’s name as loud as you can. Minho somehow manages to pick you out of the crowd and nods at you in acknowledgement. Even though you know he can’t clearly see it, you mouth, “Good luck,” to him.

When the spectacular performance is over, you clap and shout his name again. It’s the last performance, and you anxiously wait while the judges deliberate the winner. You text some votes of confidence to Minho in the meantime. Soon all the teams gather in the room. The feedback from the head judge’s microphone quickly silences the whispers.

They’re not third.

Or second.

Or first.

They’re fifth.

You look over at Minho, who is patting his team members on a job well done. He’s smiling goodnaturedly, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You grab the bouquet of flowers you bought for him and head down to the ground floor like many others are doing.

Heart thumping, you tap him on the shoulder and hold the bouquet out to him. “Hey. Congrats on making top five,” you joke in an attempt to cheer him up.

“Thanks, I guess. It went better than we expected, but you know, first is ideal,” he shrugs. He points at the flowers in your hands, melancholy nearly gone. “Did you buy those from the supermarket?”

“Would it be better if I said I stole them from the neighbor’s garden?”

“Did you really?”

“No.”

“Lame.” He takes them anyway. “I didn’t think you would actually come.”

You again think back to the stack of homework you have and the amount of studying and procrastinating you had planned to do at home. “Me neither.”

“Thanks for coming though.” He pauses for a bit, and you already know what the next line he says will be. “I’d let you ruin my life.”

“You’re already ruining mine.”

Like you’re both in kindergarten again, he shoves you in retaliation — lightly though because he doesn’t actually want to hurt you — and knowing you can’t push him as easily, you stick your tongue at him. He is soon called away for a group photo, and he volunteers you to take it. You do so, and after, with the help of a team member, you and Minho get a picture together with the fifth place trophy. You both smile at the camera, but you’re gently elbowing each other in the ribs all the while.

A minute later, he shows you his phone screen, and you see his post of the recent picture.

being number five and ruining lives, reads the caption.

You like the post anyway and end up setting that photo as your lockscreen.

six

“I hate this,” Minho mumbles to you, his breath making clouds in the winter air. “Why do they do this to us?”

You walk alongside him, trudging at the same snail’s pace as he is. “I know,” you reply. “C’mon, let’s just get it over with so we can leave.”

You drag him by the arm to the front of the giant Christmas tree. He puts an arm around your shoulder and you an arm around his waist. The two of you plaster wide grins on each of your faces while your respective mothers snap photos of their children in matching outfits. The fathers have learned to disappear once they have arrived at the outdoor mall, and you wish you and Minho decided to slip away before the current situation.

“I hate this tradition,” you say through your teeth. You wince when someone’s flash goes off, the light blinding in the night.

“Me too. This vest looks so stupid.”

“The bow around my neck agrees.”

It happens every year, but you and Minho never grow tired of complaining. Your mothers, best friends themselves, insist on documenting the friendship of their children, so you and Minho are subjected to ridiculous Christmas Eve photos in front of the same tree every year. For whatever reason, neither of you have ever rebelled and refused. Darn people-pleasing personalities.

When your parents are satisfied with the results, you and Minho rush to partially get rid of your outfits. Minho unbuttons his vest, cursing at his cold fingers, and you fumble with the knotted ribbon around your frilly shirt collar. Of course you decide to cut your nails the day before.

“Y/N?” someone says. “Is that you?”

You look up from your ribbon and see it's one of your classmates. “Oh, hey, Lia,” you greet. You point at her bags. “Last minute shopping?”

She sheepishly nods. “I like your dress, by the way.” You don’t miss the way her eyes flicker back and forth from you to Minho. “Do you guys know you’re matching?”

“It’s a stupid tradition,” Minho interjects. His vest is draped over one arm and the other is busy loosening his tie. He looks at the limp bow around your neck. “Do you need help?”

“Yes.”

Lia shoots you a knowing smile and starts turning away. “I gotta go, but it was nice seeing you guys. I’ll see you after break. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas,” you say back, more concerned with getting the cursed ribbon off than goodbyes. Minho echoes the sentiment.

You tilt your chin up and let Minho take a stab at the knot. Whenever his cold hands accidentally brush against your neck, you flinch and your pulse jumps. You hear him swearing under his breath over how tight the knot is, and you meekly apologize and feel yourself grow warm. Everyone’s staring at the spectacle, but you want the stupid thing so badly you don’t care.

“Why did tie it so tightly?” he mutters, finally managing to pull it apart. “I think my hands are cramping.”

“I’d let you ruin my life,” you mockingly say before dropping the act. “But thanks for real.”

“Only for you.” He smirks. “You have to get the dads though.”

You groan. He really does want to ruin your life. You and Minho’s dads are notoriously hard to convince to leave the mall once they’ve found a nice spot to eat and chat. “Anything else,” you plead.

He shakes his head. “No. I did it last year too.”

You take his hand and drag him with you, despite his protests. His fingers are still chilly, but his palms are surprisingly warm. He mutters about your own cold hands at the same time, but you’re too preoccupied with scanning the mall for your fathers to say something witty back. You accompanied him last year, and he would do the same to you this year.

As expected, Minho gives you dirty looks while you spend fifteen minutes begging and waiting for the dads to hurry up. You innocently smile back all the while.

seven

You spent a good portion of your winter break at Minho’s house, playing with his cats, eating his mom’s delicious japchae, and lamenting about school starting up again. School is in session now, and you wait for your first period teacher to open the door as you scroll through your phone outside in the hallway. Minho stops by to return the scarf you left at his house, and to your delight, there’s free coffee that comes with it. He puts the emphasis on ‘free.’

“I’d let you ruin my life,” you say, taking it from him. It’s from the expensive cafe again. “Wow, what’s the special occasion?”

“Just ‘cause,” he replies. “See you after school.”

“See you.”

What a weird way to begin the day. You wonder if Minho’s done anything to the drink; no way he would give you something for free. However, when you cautiously taste it, there’s nothing out of the ordinary. You swirl it to further check, but there’s still nothing.

Even though he said it was free, you still send him the money anyway.

A few minutes later, Lia shows up and says good morning. The two of you idly discuss winter break, and you both find out that neither of you did anything interesting.

“Are you going to go?” Lia asks. She points at the giant poster advertising winter formal tickets.

You shrug and sip on your Minho-delivered coffee. It still tastes normal, and you’re not sure what to make of it. “I don’t know. I don’t have anyone to go with.”

“Aren’t you dating that guy I saw you matching outfits with at Christmas? I don’t know if I already told you, but those were cute outfits.”

“Nope. He’s still my friend.”

“Is that disappointment I hear?” she teases. At your stuttering attempts to retort, she laughs. “I’m kidding. But he is cute.”

“Do you still want him to ruin your life?”

“You heard that?” she groans. “Oh my goodness, that’s embarrassing.”

When you tell Minho what happened after school, he doesn’t laugh. It’s not particularly funny anyway, but he usually smiles a little. Today he’s stony. “So is that your answer?”

“My answer to what?” you bewilderedly ask. You think back to morning and even when you were last back at his house only to come up blank with what he can be referring to. “What did you ask?”

Realization hits him. “You didn’t read the coffee label, did you?”

The cup has long been tossed into the trash by now. “Was I supposed to be? What did you ask?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” he quickly brushes off. He hops down off the wall. “I gotta go to practice.”

“Wait!” you call after him but he runs off.

A few minutes later, you find yourself digging through the trash can you threw your empty cup in earlier. Luckily, it’s mostly filled with paper cuttings and other coffee cups. However, the latex gloves you borrowed from your biology teacher don’t lessen your disgust, especially when leftover liquid drips out. Your teacher watches on in amusement as you scrutinize every one.

“This must be a very important piece of trash,” she remarks.

“It is. Oh! It’s this one!”

The label is stained with coffee, and you can just barely make out Minho’s handwriting in black ink. Why did he have to write it so small? No wonder why you didn’t notice it earlier. You hold up the cup higher to the light, and your eyes grow wide as you read the message.

want to ruin my life forever and be more than friends? will you go to winter formal with me?

You nearly drop it in your surprise. Oh goodness. You really, really messed up.

Your heart threatens to beat out of your ribcage, and every part of you is buzzing with adrenaline. Minho likes you in that special way, and you…

You…

You kind of feel the same?

Yes?

Wait, no?

No!

You definitely feel the same.

You hurriedly thank your teacher for her help and rush out of the classroom with Minho’s cup in your hand. You have to fix this now. You burst into the dance practice area, out of breath, and everyone looks at you in confusion.

“Yes! The answer is yes, Minho!” you shout and triumphantly hold out the cup.

The dance captain looks back and forth between your panting frame and Minho’s frozen figure. “Let’s take a five minute break?” he says, more of a suggestion than an order.

You walk over to Minho while everyone else disperses. He meets you halfway. His mouth is open, like he wants to say something, but no words come out.

You smile at him and thrust the cup into his hands. “Hi. The answer is yes to both questions.”

“But you said you told Lia we were just friends,” he breathlessly says, like he can’t believe this is happening.

“Well, we were just friends ten hours ago. I didn’t realize I wanted to be more than your best friend until I read your note.”

A hesitant smile creeps up onto his face. “I didn’t think you would actually take me up on my offer of ruining my life. I thought I screwed it all up by even asking.”

“No! I really like you,” you blurt out. “Like really, really. And I think I have for a long time now. It just… took awhile for me to find out.”

“I like you too, life ruiner.”

You try to playfully push him, but he wraps you in a hug before you can even touch him. You squirm in his grasp and giggle when he holds you even tighter.

“Life ruiner, life ruiner,” he chants in your ear. “And you’re all mine now.”

~ ad.gray

[utterlyinevitable]

pb let me *redact* Tobias challenge 🥲

not me turning your tobias thirst asks into a 3-part mini series 😂🙈

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Becca Lao) x Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen+ Summary: Ethan’s still pissed at Becca for her Tobias stint when he was in the Amazon. What happens when the narcissist joins the team? Trope: Angst; Broke Up; Ethan’s POV; Fighting; Jealousy

A/N: the toxin plot didn’t happen in this universe btw.

Part 1  |  Part 2

___________________________

Godly Sins: 3. Parting Wrath of Hera

That evening Tobias and Becca spoke late into the night about anything and everything. Well, everything that didn’t involve Ethan, June and hospital drama, nor their two brief wanton stints - truly getting to know one another and starting fresh.

As days and shifts and weekends rolled by, the sparkle they’ve shared began blooming into a friendship.

It was rather inevitable, really.

Two people who shared an indubitable attraction, forced to spend all their time together out of their boss’ sight - It was kismet.

Meanwhile, Ethan Ramsey had been ignoring them both for weeks outside of Diagnostic Team mandated functions - even then, interactions were brief and mediated by Harper. He’s been on edge since Tobias joined the team as Bloom’s nark, presumably. Or at least that’s what he told himself - convinced himself that nothing good could come from whatever this was.

Oh, how things go horribly, horribly sour.

Becca was sitting in the office waiting for the daily Diagnostics Team meeting to start, busying herself by scrolling through social media over eleven times in the last five minutes.

Steps away, Ethan sat at his desk, keeping a cold shoulder and looking over files he purposely keeps on his desk for awkward times just as these. The air between them stiff and stale, as heavy as it was months ago when they had their falling out. They should have acclimated to the unrelenting suffocation of being left alone together - the third shadow accompanying whatever was left of them.

But they hadn’t. Never really could once she realized Ethan would never forgive her for forming a survivalistic attachment to his biggest adversary. Rebecca Lao wasn’t going to let a man’s misplaced pride stifle her. So, she refuses to stroke his ego by hiding - even through the rancor of being alone with him, and the twangs that erupt when they’re this close. She’s not going to idly hover outside, biding time until Harper or Tobias or Naveen or a nurse, or anyone else enters the office first. She’ll sit and she’ll wait for work to begin.

And Ethan Ramsey will sit at his desk and pretend she’s not there. He’ll pretend he can’t smell her perfume, or hear the tapping of her nails to her phone or the heel to the floor as her leg jitters. He’ll pretend she’s nothing more than a ghost of the past lingering in the cornerstone of his conscious, like all the others. He’ll convince himself he’s angled away from her just enough to keep a peripheral eye on the door in case there’s an emergency, even if that line of vision is really just of her.

If Tobias noticed Ethan staring blankly ahead, he didn’t dare attempt to feign interest. The olive-skinned addition sauntered straight over to Becca, hands full and a thin, satisfied smile at home on his lips.

He set down a large coffee and sandwich wrapped in white paper in front of her. Ethan could just about read the stickered logo from where he sat. But he could see the undoubtable way Becca’s eyes lit up.  

“Is this from...”

“The one and only,” Tobias had a cheeky grin - a kind of unbridled simper.

“That was fast.”

“Said I’d buy you breakfast, and I did.” He pulled out the chair closest to her and sat with his signature nonchalant grace. “Did you think I’m not a man of my word?” His hand was waving, palm up, towards the small feast before her.

“More like a flubber.”

Becca’s playful tone matched his in the most complimentary way.

Ethan caught the shining smile they shared - one that could only indicate an inside joke. One that could only mean they were spending too much time together. One that could only mean they were getting along.

Then Tobias plucked a strip of bacon off her sandwich.

And that was when something snapped in Dr. Ramsey.

They weren’t meant to be comfortable. They’re meant to suffer. That was the whole point of constantly pairing them together. These two flawed and moralless people were meant to be a punishment. Just for a while. Just until...

They made a house out of crushed stones.

They flipped the script on how this was meant to play out, and Ethan vehemently resented them for it.

As soon as Harper entered the office, Ethan bolted to his feet and rattled through the meeting. Swift, succinct and blinded by the need to be alone. Alone to plot what comes next.

He was gruffer with them for the rest of the day, and this time they noticed. The scorn seeped through Ethan’s characteristic distain like nuclear waste. Neither Becca or Tobias were guilty of whatever Ethan was holding them accountable for this time - a scapegoat for his repressed feelings. Then why did Becca feel guilty? She did nothing wrong - then or now. This is a natural progression to the seeds he sowed by banishing them.

Ethan will just have to live with the consequences.  

***

The consequences came two weeks later. Powerful and damning and freezing Ethan in place, right in the middle of his office. Right in front of them. 

Tobias and Becca were perched on the diagnostics’ couch. Becca’s hand is in his and he’s rubbing gentle circles of adoration to the soft skin. He didn’t stop his ministrations as the air around them, once a glorious heated serenity, now turned icy. The chill wafting through with the large presence of their past.

“I don’t want to know,” he grumbles as he pulls himself out of his stupor and storms towards his desk.

The words of her off-handed response were as hard as a lingering look into Medusa’s eyes. “Yes you do, Ethan. So ask.”

The contempt. The exasperation. The overall vile irksome in her tone… It was baiting him. She was baiting him to lose his temper. To acknowledge it all. Ethan didn’t mean to say his inner thoughts out loud, didn’t mean to revert on the divine separation he’s put between them all. And he certainly didn’t mean for her to mistake this moment as an olive branch. However decrepit it is. 

Ethan didn’t ask. Just shakes his head and tries to fall back into his ignorance. 

He hears the creak of the couch as the pair stand up and the shuffling of two people moving as one. Ethan’s trying so hard not to watch them - trying not to assess their every move and read too much into it. The pair move towards the door when he speaks -

An authoritative statement pegged directly at her. Eyes devoid of feeling, blue irises creeping down the Marianas trench.

“It is unethical to be involved with a colleague.”

Ethan Ramsey was foolish. Especially so to believe he could have the last word - the last victory of battle in the war he started. For Rebecca spun around with such purpose, the skirt of her dress catching on the wind. Her hands at her sides balling, sharp nails grazing palms.

A rueful snort escapes her, “Thought it was only unethical if there’s a power imbalance?”

She had him there. With the forced team democracy Tobias wasn’t technically a superior. Never mind that they aren’t together. Not really.

If he was a better man, Tobias would intervene and set the record straight. He’d position himself in the five feet between these two Edenbrook legacies instead of behind her. Watching. Decoding every tell tale in the tableau.

The way they were glaring at one another, well... The suspicion that floated as his reasoning to send the basket all those months ago was more than confirmed. And Tobias Carrick just realized what he’s just gotten himself into.

“There will be no fraternizing within my team,” Ethan’s voice strained to keep calm. Tried not to bellow the rule he’s kept in place when it comes to Rebecca Lao. His ears beginning to redden and the vein of his neck protruding. 

Becca huffed a dry laugh, folded her arms across her chest and looked away. Towards Tobias.

In a few seconds many things happened. Becca’s eyes locked on Tobias, shooting him a look that could only mean one thing. Tobias smiled just for her. Ethan’s heart shattered. And Becca turned back to Ethan.

Her once copper eyes now almost entirely black. “Define fraternizing.”

That had Ethan sputtering and Tobias’ sly smile broadening.

“Because friendship is one thing,” she continued. “Sexual intercourse, another.”

That got a rise out of both men for very different reasons.

“Either way, the nature of my relationship with Tobias is none of your concern.”

They’re staring one another down. His sapphire eyes darker than she’s ever seen - all the hurt they’ve caused one another swirling between. Becca can feel the regret in the tension of his shoulders and the stiffness of his jaw. But for what, she doesn’t know - doesn’t want to. The longer she stands here, looking at him for the first time in months, she fears she’ll see every facet of pain she’s caused, and every reason to back down. And that’s too much to bear. Even after it all there’s still a part of her that loves him, always will. 

She’s strong as stone before him, refusing to waver.

Tobias itches to say something, anything. Something that wouldn’t just cut through the tension... 

“If it makes you feel better we’ll disclose to HR.”

Ethan’s neck could have snapped with the force of the swiftness as his head whipped towards his rival. Eyes narrowed and sizing Tobias up - decoding every subtext of the phrase. Every little bit of their unknown closeness. 

With his steely gaze stuck on Tobias, Becca found the strength to pull away. Turned her back on Ethan and began walking out - not a single glance thrown back over her shoulder for either man. Tobias less than half a step behind her. Leaving Ethan with one final look. 

As Ethan watched them walk out, he deflates. A knife stabbed straight to the heart he wasn’t sure he still had. Red blood that beat because of her. 

For her. 

Still.

***BONUS POV***

As soon as they were out of earshot, down the corridor and away from any lingering ears, Tobias spoke; 

“Ever going to tell me what happened between you and Ramsey?”

“A mistake, apparently.”

He squeezed her hand and that’s all that was said on the subject.      

______________________

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Perma:

@lucy-268  @thegreentwin  @queencarb  @danijimenezv  @starrystarrytrouble   @terrm9 @interobanginyourmom @maurine07  @mercury84choices  @schnitzelbutterfingers  @the-pale-goddess @whimsicallywayward15  @mvalentine  @mm2305 @rookie-ramsey @drariellevalentine   @withbeautyandrage  @forallthatitsworth   @stateofgracious  @missmiimiie  @uneravine   @iemcpbchoices  @sophxwithers @quixoticdreamer16 @lsvdw-blog

Ethan:

@udishaman  @binny1985  @honeyandsunfl0wers @wingedhairstylemusicweasel @ohchoices  @dulceghernandez @blossomanarchy  @stygianflood   @openheartthot @senseofduties  @tsrookie  @kalogh @aworldoffandoms  @takemyopenheart  @casey-v @ethanramseylover @a-crepusculo @randomperson111  @anntoldst0ries @aishaaaaaaah @estellaelysian @mysticaurathings @mayarambles

@adiehardfan @headoverheelsforramsey @dickgraysonsscrumptiousbooty @jerzwriter @reputaytion-xiii

[maxineswritingcenter]

Bragger - Dean x fem!reader

Suggested by @rileynicole1967 based on the song Bragger by Kelsea Ballerini. I am definitely not putting off writing Little Mermaid AU. 

I guess spoilers for season 12 but not, ya know?

----

“Wait, remind me what the story is again?” Dean asked (Y/N). They were both making their way through the little suburban neighborhood that (Y/N)’s parents lived in. 

“Okay. So, you know how I dropped out of college and started hunting with you and Sam?”

“I do.” 

“Great. My parents don’t know that. Meaning, as far as they know, I am a fancy pants lawyer who has been so busy that I haven’t been able to visit them.” 

“Right.” He nodded, “Then... what’s my story?” 

“You, my love, are a fireman from Texas who volunteers at a youth shelter.” This story was completely pulled from her behind. The fireman story came from a phone call where a fire was mentioned. (Y/N) didn’t have the heart to tell her mother that Dean was burning a body and just came up with a story that there was a fire in a cemetery. And the youth group was from a slip up where she mentioned Jack and the best story was that they found him in an abandoned house and Dean took him under his wing. 

“Ahuh.” He looked over the house numbers on the mail boxes, “I’ll try my best to remember.” 

“Are you nervous?” She asked, seeing how his leg was shaking. 

“Me? Nervous?” He chuckled, but his smile dropped when he saw the serious look on her face, “Uh, yeah, I am.” 

“Well, put on a brave face. Dad can smell fear.” She said through a grin as they pulled into the house where her mother and father were already outside waiting. They exited the car and Dean watched his girlfriend and her mother embrace.

"Oh there's my little girl! We missed you so so much!" Her mother gushed.

"I missed you too, mom." They pulled away and she embraced her father.

Dean watched the family, his hands wringing nervously in his pockets. But he kept a small smile on his face. He was happy to meet her family. After all they had been through, they needed the normal. It gave Sam some time alone with Eileen the big guy needed it.

(Y/N) turned back and waved Dean forward. He came up besides her, taking his hands from his pockets.

"And this is Dean. Dean, this is mom and dad." She smiled.

Dean grinned, "Pleasure to meet you both." He said with a slight twang, seems like he's living out a western fantasy since he's "from Texas". He shook her father's hand, he held it out to her mother. But seems like mom was a hugger because she pushed his hand aside lightly and pulled him down into a hug.

"Oh we know all about you, Dean." She said into his shoulder. Dean chuckled and gave her a couple pats on the back before stepping out of the hug, "Good things I hope."

"Of course." Her mother said, "He's even more handsome than you described, Sweetie."

"Mother." (Y/N) said between her teeth.

“What? I just said he was handsome.” Mom waved off her daughter’s embarrassment.

“Let’s head inside! I’m sure the drive from Kansas was a doozy.” Mom and dad led the way towards the house. 

“You didn’t tell me your mom was June Cleaver.” Dean whispered to (Y/N) out of the corner of his mouth. 

“Yeah just wait until she gets a couple drinks in her.” (Y/N) said through a smile. 

- 

All was going well until it came to dinner. They all sat around the hardwood kitchen table, eating the meal that mom had prepared. It was going pretty well until Dad spoke up. 

“So Dean, tell us about the station.” 

Dean looked up from his meal and finished chewing his food, taking this time to make something up, “Uh, yeah so there’s about ten people in the crew. Not a lot of fires for the small town."

"Not making a lot of income then. Looks like (Y/N)'s the bread winner." Dad said as he took a drink. Mom, sensing the tension, slowly slipped away from to the kitchen. Dean's jaw clenched in it's special way. (Y/N) placed a hand on his knee under the table.

"Dad, it's not about the money. Dean is saving lives. Risking his life." She defended him.

"And that's admirable, sweetie. But I just don't want you to work yourself to death." At dad's words, Dean's leg began to shake but his face didn't change.

"Dad, I'm a lawyer," She lied, "I'm always going to be working myself to death."

"I make sure your daughter is taken care of, sir." Dean said. 

“Coulda fooled me.” Dad said under his breath. 

“Dad!” (Y/N) barked sharply. 

Just then, with her impeccable timing, Mom returned with a salad bowl in her hands, “I made a salad with craisins!” Dean, ignoring the salad, abruptly got up from the table, grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and started walking towards the door as he shrugged it on. 

“Dean!” (Y/N) and her mother followed him, she was still holding the craisin salad. 

“Baby,” Dean stopped as he was half way through the door, “I just need a minute.” He left, slamming the door behind him. 

- 

Deciding she also needed a minute, (Y/N) made her way up tp her old bedroom much to the protests of her mother and her father telling her that she needed to move home if she “can’t find a man who can take a little criticism”. What he called criticism, she called blatant disrespect. Even though he wasn’t an actual firefighter, why would her dad talk to him like that? It was totally unlike him. 

To his credit, maybe he was really angry at her for not visiting since she “graduated”, but that was no reason to be so rude to Dean. 

A knock at the door brought her out of her thoughts. 

“Go away.” 

“I brought cookies.” That was mom's go-to I'm sorry dish. Did it make up for everything? No, but it certainly helped to have warm chocolate chip cookies.

"Come in." At her words, the door opened with mom in the doorway and a plate of cookies in her hands.

"Hi sweetie."

"What is his problem?" She asked, sitting up on her bed. Mom sighed and sat besides her, setting the plate of cookies between then.

"I'm not sure, honey. I think it's a combination of you not visiting more. And I think he believes that Dean isn't good enough for you."

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, "Good enough? Dean is the best think that's ever happened to me." She took a cookie and munched on it.

"I have never said anything bad about him. I can't help but flaunt him."

"I understand why you would." Mom said around a cookie.

"All that matters is that he loves me."

"Love doesn't pay the bills." The both looked up and saw Dad in the doorway, apparently listening to the conversation.

"You know what? I know you don't like him. Because he's not from around here, but he gets along with everyone. I'm gonna be honest, you can say whatever you want about my happily ever after because at the end of the day, he's mine. And I'm his. I've got his nights and his name."

"His name? You got married to him?!" Dad's voice rose.

"Yeah, I did. (Y/N) Winchester. Because I love him! If he were a wine, he'd be top shelf. If he were a house, he'd be the one at the end of the block. You see some washed up shmuck. But he's mine and I'll be damned if I listen to you anymore. As long as I live, I'll never come back here." (Y/N) shoved her way passed him and down the stairs, mom and dad behind her.

"Sweetie, please, wait." Her mom called.

(Y/N) was stopped at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the three men in the living room.

"Well lookie here, the whole family is here for dinner." The man in the middle say. He was a greasy looking man, her hair pulled back in a low pony tail, clad in biker gear. The two others besides him, bared their sharp, toothy grins.

--------------------------------------------------

Read part 2 here!

Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated! 

Message me to be on the taglist or a supernatural tag in general

Taglist:

@happy-little-winchester

@hobby27

@tranzfred

@vicmc624

@ria132love

@lilulo-12

@teenwaywardasgardian

@tloveswriting

@mikrokosmicjoon

@calaofnoldor

[enigma-im]

What We Do With Shadows Pt.2

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Shadow monster x F!Human Warnings: kitchen sex, fluff, blood mention, minor violence, takes place immediatly after the first

Word Count: 3406

Pt.1

----------------------

I wake up a few hours later, glancing at the window, it’s still dark out. I rub my face into the pillow below me, taking in a deep breath. I go to sit up but I'm pulled back down.

"Why are you up," Raguel grumbles against my back. At some point in the night, we have switched to spooning. His arms are wrapped tightly around my stomach and our legs are twined together.

"Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you," I look over my shoulder. He hums before rubbing his forehead to the back of my neck.

"Its alright," He takes in a deep breath," you smell like me."

"Do I? I should probably go shower then," I try to get up again. I didn’t get to do any of my post-sex rituals, probably need to clean the sheets later today. Before I can get far Raguel pulls me back down. Turning so I'm resting on his chest.

"Don’t you ever, stay like this for a while longer or I will bend you over again," he purrs near my ear. Licking the shell as he squeezes me a bit tighter.

I blush," So you really want to do that again?"

He stops abusing my ear," Of course I do. Every day if that’s an option."

"Everyday," I yelp," are you trying to kill me?" he chuckles against me. He flips us over so he is on top, looking down at me with a wide grin.

"I could never, I promised you everything and I don’t intend to lose you anytime soon," he leans down and pecks my nose," Shall I demonstrate my dedication? I can actually take my time this go around." He leans back down for a kiss but I press against his chest.

"I think food and a shower is needed first," I try to argue. He pouts," also I need to go to the bathroom."

He huffs," fine, I shall relent this time. I need to go deal with something anyway. Meet you downstairs for some very early breakfast?"

"Yea, what do you have to deal with," I ask. Instead of answering he leans down and kisses me. He parts but leans back for another, then another. I push him away after a moment, really needing to pee. "Ok Raguel, meet you downstairs," I smile up at him, petting up his chest.

He holds my hand against himself," So beautiful, how often would you say your ex made you smile?" I notice him calling Nick my ex. Which I guess is right.

"Not enough," I answer honestly," Now let's get up, you are distracting me."

He leans down and buries his face on my neck, purring," You are no saint either, laying here naked beneath me."

"I can change if you like," I tease back.

He growls against me," I'd keep you naked here all day if I could. Actually, that sounds like a plan. I'll get us some food and you stay here."

"Raguel," I chuckle," I really need to go to the bathroom." he relents, falling to my side.

"Fine," he huffs. I get out of bed and look over at him sprawled out. He turns his head and gives me a once over, "You should leave now because this view is giving me ideas."

I quickly scurry away, feeling giddy as anyone could be. I trot down the hall, the pep in my step unfamiliar to me. It's an old feeling to be so excited, like a long lost friend. I know when I was first with Nick the feeling with always there but as time went so did the enjoyment. Chalking that up to the plateauing of our relationship. Shortly after the joy of a new relationship just vanished into anxiety and fear. Raguel brought fear but mostly of the unknown. His words brought on confliction and doubt that bloomed into self-determination.

I like Raguel, that's simple. I don't really know where we are going after this. Though he has admitted and confirmed his attraction and devotion the worry still lingers of his true intentions. He cannot be all good, there are no such things as heroes in polished armor ready to save a helpless person. That is just childish of me to assume such a thing, just like it's childish to assume he will be true and kind forever.

I trail out the bathroom in thought though a bit of satisfaction still rests in my chest. I was never one for such raunchy displays but the way Raguel claimed me in front of Nick was all too satisfying to not feel the next day. Walking into my room I immediately notice Raguel's absents. A twang of stress slithers into my brain but I cannot bring myself to fuel the flame this time.

I grab some clothes and dress casually for the day. Making my way downstairs I ponder if Raguel actually requires food. I start on a simple breakfast that’s easily made and shared amongst two people. As I watch the eggs quickly fry in the pan a pair of arms snake around my waist, pulling me flush against a body.

"Smells good," Raguel sways us. A smile forces its way onto my lips, peeling back more as his lips drag along my cheek.

"I didn't know how you would want your eggs so I made them scrambled," I glance at him from the corner of my eye," I hope that is alright."

"whatever you make I will devour it like a starving man," he answers. He snags a piece from the pan before walking away. I watch him for a moment, finally admiring him in the light. His attractiveness is just as appealing now as it was last night. Though his strangeness attempts to trump that allure, it only seems to fuel it. The swaying tail catches my attention though, remembering that curled around my thigh last night.

"See something you like," Raguel purrs. I meet his eyes, having ripped my attention from the lazy swings of his thin tail.

"I-ah-sorry," I blush. Quickly, I twist away focusing back on the food. I shift the food around embarrassed, flustered at the lude images plaguing my thoughts.

Arms curl back around my waist," Now, no need for all that, love. I want your attention constantly, especially when it's with such an open invitation." his fingers slowly slide down my sides, cupping my hips as he pulls them back. "that was an invitation," he licks up my neck," Right?"

I shutter in his arms," It is now," I mumble under my breath. His cocky chuckle brings a chill to my skin.

"Good girl," he purrs. He reaches in front of me, taking the pan off the stove before fisting the hem of my shirt. He curls the fabric slowly upwards, his other hand resting on the newly exposed skin. His warm palm gropes at my stomach, trailing upward with my shirt till he can squeeze at my chest. He growls in my ear, his teeth dimpling the skin of shoulder as he nibbles. His hips nudge my ass, requesting as well as demanding.

"Raguel," I murmur. He tweaks my nipple, brushing the pads of his fingers along the pebbled peaks. Soon his other hand runs lazily down my torso to reach my crotch. He slides under the edge of my pants, cupping my crotch swiftly. Raguel delves a finger between my folds, growling excitedly as he feels my wet heat. With only a few strokes to my begging clit does he change objectives.

As one hand palms at my chest and the other grinding against my crotch Raguel shoves my pants down. As I look down I see the faint wisps of darkness fading away, a snicker coming from behind me.

"I seem to have no patience when it comes to you," he bends me forward," it seems some practice would be in need to conquer the likes of you, temptress." I catch myself on my hands, framing the stove in front of me. The heat of the previously lit top is a completely different feeling to the heat of Raguel's cock nudging at my folds. Within a blink he shoves forward, wasting no time being buried within me.

"Oh god," I clench at the counter, my head falling forward. Raguel's body cradles me against his with a sigh of relief. His fingers flex against my crotch, his chest resting warm against my back. He chuckles, sending hot breath down my shirt.

"God? I thought I was an angel," he laughs," but I guess I like the ring of God just a bit better." I want to scoff at his ego but his retreating cock steals my breath. He forces the air back in with a sharp buck of his hips. He stills once again, sighing against the back of my neck.

Raguel's hips draw back barely a few inches then slapping forward harshly. The slow languid pull-outs are the complete opposite to the demanding bucks forward. It feels almost like he regrets pulling back to begin with, rushing to fill the space he regretfully left. His pace is torturous but words evade me more than ever now. The hand over my crotch grinds oh so well into my clit with every buck. The harsh thrusts making me hump into his awaiting palm. His slow but harsh pace is taking too long, it's becoming harder to keep quiet.

"Raguel," I sinfully groan. The command for more rests on the tip of my tongue but the words refuse to leave.

"Yes, love," he purrs so erotically in my ear. His rumbling voice makes my head turn to mush, flatling my heart as I hear the excitement in his words.

"P-Please," I spill out," please."

"What do you need? Ask your god for anything," he bucks sharply," I'm here solely for your pleasure."

My legs nearly give out at his egotistical declaration. The cocky tone mixed with his devoted words nearly undoes me.

"Faster," I say firmly," please, Raguel."

" Good girl," he growls," your wish is my command."

He pulls out slow once more before thoroughly fucking me. His hip slap against me, clapping at my cheeks loudly. I jolt with every thrust, clenching the counters in a white grip. A drawn-out groan starts lowly in my throat, my insides being set aflame with his cock. I cannot think, only feel as he ravages me. The sensation is only similar to the first time he did this. No one has come close to the way he makes me sing.

"Eva," he murmurs against my shoulder," I need you to cum for me, fuck, please." my eyes rolls at his plead, the change in command thrilling me so. I adore what he does to me but I almost adore more what I do to him.

His fingers flex messily over my clit as he bucks and thrusts into my body. I can't hold on anymore, falling for the climax that bursts from within.

I hold the counter as my legs shake. I faintly feel a hand trail over my arm as I cry out in ecstasy. Fingers card through mine, holding them in a tight grip as I clench around Raguel's now throbbing cock. His choked grunts match with my drawn-out moans. I can feel him shoot his load inside me, adding to my already heart-stopping orgasm. We ride out our peaks, fueling the other with our erotic singing.

Before I can allow myself to think straight Raguel takes me to the floor. Slowly he settles use against the cabinets, our back resting against the cold wood. His arms stay snug around me as I sit lax in his lap. Occasionally I feel him press short peck to the back of my head, nuzzling his nose to my hair.

"We should get up and eat breakfast before it gets cold," I mumble, petting my fingertips over his arm. He hums in answer, pecking my temple with his lips.

"Just a moment longer," he grumbles.

"Don't fall asleep on me now," I tease. He huffs in amusement, swatting my thigh with his tail.

"Not my fault you’re a succubus whose sole purpose is to drain me everything I have," he jokes. I fluster easily at his accusation. I hardly assumed myself to be 'sexy' or 'alluring' enough to be titled as a succubus.

After a moment of cuddling on the floor, we get up. I pull my pants back on as Raguel heads for the cabinets. He grabs two plates and two cups, setting them on the counter. I help out, reaching for a plate to fill with the breakfast I made. Before I can reach it his tail wraps around my wrist and tugs me away.

"No, I got this. Go sit down," he scolds, pointing towards the table. I watch him confused, meals are my job. Nick never wanted to busy himself with such feminine tasks.

"but-," I try to convince him otherwise.

"No," he interrupts," you drain my balls, I serve you food. That’s the deal." I fluster immediately, squirming as I focus on the feel of him still inside me. I want to retort with something, anything, but words fail me. He grins, walking over to peck me on the lips. "Go sit," he whispers. I just nod, turning and walking to the dining table.

Raguel swiftly decorates the plates with an assortment of food then places them on the table. We feast in relative silence, passing flirty glances once in a while. Everything feels so carefree this morning, not a stroke of tension to be found. It's strange in its own right to be so happy when yesterday I was being so blank for what feels like my whole life. Nick took so much out of me that it felt normal to be so out of touch. Only having Raguel in my life for a day has changed so much.

I watch Raguel for a moment, seeing him finish off his sides of berries. He catches my eye as he pops a blueberry into his mouth, he gives me a toothy grin.

"Thank you," I smile back. He leans forward to rest his head on his propped up hand.

"Whatever for, love," he asks. I watch him for a moment more, capturing this scene as vividly as possible in my mind.

"Thanks for being here and… god, for everything really," I shrug. There aren't enough words to capture how I feel at this moment. To have nothing then to have everything is too fulfilling to put into mere sentences.

Raguel's playful grin twists into such admiration it feels like cupid shooting an arrow into my heart. He sits up from the table, rounding it to crouch next to me. He grabs the edge of my seat and jerks it to face him. Then he crawls between my legs, pushing my knees away so he fits perfectly.

Raguel reaches up and cradles my face," I have been in this house for years, haunting these grounds out of boredom more than demand. I have seen a lot in my time, seeing more than you could ever know. Those years have been nothing compared to the past 24 hours. To finally feel your lips against mine, to have your body expertly molded against mine, it's a dream come true. The cherry on top is putting that scum bag ex in his place. I've watched you for some time and last night is when I knew I loved you. Eva, I love you so damn much that it feels like I'm going to burst with it. Thank you, thank you so much Eva for accepting me into your life so easily. I will repay that in full for the rest of my life."

I can't even begin with how touching his words are. My heart aches in my chest with the swelling of emotions, quick to burst at any moment. I have to grab, I have to pull him close and kiss that cocky, arrogant face.

"to the rest of our lives," I smile into the kiss.

"To the rest of our lives," he grins back.

the day turns into a close as Raguel admires the gift resting in his arms. He knows that everything in his life should warn him against having something so special like her. Yet his wants can't be denied, what he wants he gets. That is the way of life, anything worth fighting for is also worth dying for. Not that the threat looms over him but the threat to her still exists in some capacity and that will never sit well for Raguel.

Raguel watches Eva for a moment longer than intended, just too captivated by the human to sneak away. The ideas of his task begin to take hold of his imagination to the point that he can finally turn away from her. With a sigh he forms into a mist, drifting out of the room with ease.

He drifts swiftly through the hall and down the stairs, seeping through the floorboards into the cellar. The dark dank room only has the sounds of dripping water as Raguel converges back into himself. With a flick of his hair, he casually walks into the barely lit room ahead. As he creaks open the door a sharp inhale is heard from beyond.

"Good evening, nick," Raguel grins, meeting the eyes of the exhausted man.

"Please," Nick weeps," I won't tell anyone, just let me go." Raguel crosses the room swiftly, admiring the wet, bleeding man strung up before him. The cruel lacerations decorating his chest brings a thrill to Raguel. The blood that has streamed down his torso is long dried after this morning. It's perhaps time to make some new ones.

"Now why would I let you go," Raguel tilts his head," we have only just gotten to know each other." wisps of smokes spread across the floor, lazily trailing towards Nick. The teasing path leaves enough time for Nick to notice, panting, and writhing against his confines.

"No, please," Nick begs. The tendrils of smoke crawl up his body towards his chest, coalescing against his cuts. They thread through the wounds, expanding once they enter. The reopened lashes pool with blood, drops running down his chest once more. Nick whimpers in pain as Raguel snickers in delight.

"I had a fantastic day with Eva," Raguel starts as he paces the room," she cooked breakfast, which is so nice of her, and we made love on your kitchen floor. I had her screaming my name, I wouldn't be surprised if you didn’t hear it. She even called me god, how fulfilling."

"stop," Nick pleads," you can have her, I won't bother you two again. I swear!"

Raguel tosses a blank look at the man, crossing his arms behind himself as he walks forward. He towers over the injured man with such superiority that Nick would cower if he could.

"Do you believe I need your permission? Do you assume you have some semblance of power here that you can freely give and take choices," Raguel quickly grabs at Nick's chin, forcing his focus on solely him," You do not plague this house with your filth any longer! You had your chance and now I have mine. Eva belongs to me, not because I demand it but because I earned it. Now, remember your place because you have surely earned it as well." Raguel shoves Nick away, his nails biting into the man's cheek before he departs.

As Nick sulks against the far wall Raguel walks over to a corner. He investigates the items in front of him, grabbing a suitable object. He carries it behind his back as he walks back towards nick.

"I'm feeling quite joyful this evening so tell me, Nick," Raguel twists the gardening fork to his front," what're your thoughts on landscaping?"

The cries of pain cannot be heard through the house, not a soul knows about the reckoning happening just below.

As Raguel finishes playing he cleans up and heads back into bed. As he settles under the sheets Eva twists to grab at him, curling into his side swiftly. With a smile, Raguel kisses the crown of her head, pulls her in close, and falls asleep. Both feeling content and safe as a deviant soul clings to life below.

----------------------------------------

Did y’all know Raguel is actually a bad dude? When I made him I wanted him to be cocky, arrogant, but a little sweet. With Eva is gentle and patient, if not a little insecure. He has never had to attract someone and he wants Eva to like him. he will protect and love her but to do that he will straight up kill a man. so he is mean and violent, even losing his tempers at times, but with Eva he is sweet and gentle. i like him for that. God, i would love to do a character ask with him, he has so much to him that i haven’t written.

Check out my Archive | Masterlist | Main Blog

[myownworstenemyyy]

Crystal Clear - Part 2

a Javier Peña x Reader series

Word count: 2.3k (gif by @notsogreatgifs)

Warnings: alcohol ; situation involving someone cheating on their partner ; ANGST

A/N: surprise! i decided to make a mini-series out of this story (a continuation of this ask) because i just can't stop myself 😂 and I'm procrastinating writing for my other series sooo this is from Javi’s POV so enjoy the angst y’all! 💕💜 (masterlist in bio)

AO3 | fic inspired by the song Crystal Clear by Hayley Williams

I jump in with the rush in my head only to find the water was concrete

She’s engaged, Javi repeats in his head for the hundredth time since he discovered the ring on your finger. Downing his third glass of whiskey, all he can think about is the look on your face after you kissed him earlier that day.

The kiss starts out slow, almost tentative as your lips connect for the first time - is this really the first time we’ve kissed? Fuck, I’ve wasted so much time, Javi thinks when you thread your fingers through his hair. It only takes a second before he’s gripping your hips and tugging you even closer to his chest, a gasp falling from your lips when he swipes his tongue along the seam of your lips. 

As soon as you open for him, he loses his fucking mind - every desire he’s kept locked away takes form in the desperate way his mouth devours yours. But the passion isn’t one-sided, because every time your lips break apart, your hands flex along his scalp, closing the small gap between you once more.

Your mouths move hungrily against each other, like the two of you have been wandering through a desert for weeks, slowly dying of an agonizing thirst until finally discovering the source of life within one another. And that’s the only way Javier can describe how he’s truly felt about you all this time - like he’s been suffocating and you’re the air he’s been gasping for, for his entire life.

All the yearning and sorrow he’s suffered from years without acting on his feelings for you leave him in a state of depravity that no other woman he’s ever been with could cure. And no matter how hard he tried - how much liquor he drank or how many women he fucked - he could never force you out of his mind. 

Or out of his heart.

Suddenly, you pull back from the kiss, pushing against his shoulders to keep him at a distance. He grips onto your arm - not unlike the way you had held onto his arm just before admitting you couldn’t deny feeling something for him. 

Your eyes grow impossibly wide as the two of you stare at one another, chests heaving and breaths mingling in the little space that’s between you. He licks his lips, still tasting you on his skin and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms again. 

“I-” you swallow hard, your expression growing more worrisome, almost to the point of looking like you’re about to be sick. Your eyes fall to where your left hand rests on his shoulder as you croak out, “We shouldn’t have done that.” 

With a look of concern, Javier raises his hand to tuck back stray pieces of hair that have fallen out of your ponytail, but once his finger grazes your cheek, you flinch away, taking a step back from him. 

And he’ll never admit out loud just how deeply that small gesture pierced his heart.

You wrap your arms around yourself, not meeting his eyes as you shake your head lightly, “I shouldn’t have done that - I-I’m sorry, I can’t.” Keeping your eyes cast downward, your shoulder brushes his as you head back in the direction of your house, but he catches your elbow just before you’re out of reach. 

“Can I...see you again, bonita? Just to talk, I promise,” he pleads, hoping you’ll see the sincerity - along with the fear of losing you - in his eyes. 

You hesitate, looking around as if to make sure none of the neighbors are watching your intimate exchange with a man who isn’t your betrothed. When your eyes land on his again, they soften though they remain laced with uncertainty, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Javi.” The regretful way his name falls from your lips makes his stomach drop but your next words give him some semblance of hope. 

“I just...need some time to think, OK?” you offer him a small, reassuring smile as you bring a hand to his cheek. The gesture feels so natural and warm, yet foreign all at the same time, and all he can manage is a nod in response, his voice failing him. 

He doesn’t miss the sad glint in your eye either as you turn and walk away from him for the second time that day.

Signaling the bartender, Javier asks for another whiskey as he reaches into his jacket for his pack of cigarettes. He releases a heavy sigh as his drink is placed in front of him, if there was ever a reason to get fucking plastered, reuniting with the love of your life when she’s already engaged to another man would be right at the top of the fucking list.

The moment he felt that ring on your finger, his heart clenched painfully in his chest, because he knew - he knew he was too late and he only had himself to blame. All those years ago when he left for Columbia, he thought he was doing the right thing - that you’d be better off without him. 

When he’d learned you had feelings for him as well - because if he’s being honest with himself, he’s been in love with you since you were just kids - he was shocked, to say the least. He never once even humored the idea of having something more with you, beyond the close friendship the two of you have shared for decades. 

But the way you looked at him that night, your eyes glistening with unshed tears as you bared your soul to him, there was no way he could tell you he’d already been assigned to Columbia and was set to leave the very next day. It crushed him to hug you so close that night, knowing he was a coward for saying nothing - about how he felt the same about you, and about how he’d be gone for what was sure to be years, as the hunt for Escobar would be no easy task.

So he’d kissed you on the cheek and promised that the two of you would talk everything out the next day, though it was a complete lie. And the hopeful look you gave him - one full of love and tenderness - it pulled the air right from his lungs. But he forced himself to walk away before he changed his mind and confessed the truth to you right then and there, telling himself you deserved better than a coward like him.

You deserved the world, but he could never be the one to give it to you. 

“Something got you down, partner?” the bartender asks, a slight Southern twang in his voice. Javi resists the urge to roll his eyes at the man’s use of the word partner as he takes a drag of his cigarette before responding, “Just...lady troubles.” He’s surprised he divulged even that little bit of information, but it’s most likely due to the alcohol now weakening his inhibitions.

The bartender - who’s not much younger than Javier - offers a knowing smirk, “Ah, yup, that’ll do it.” He chuckles to himself and Javi glares at him, though the other man doesn’t seem to notice as he wipes down the counter, grinning to himself, “Glad I don’t gotta deal with that anymore.”

Javi raises an eyebrow, only slightly intrigued by the meaning behind his words as he takes a swig of his drink. The other man runs a hand through his light brown hair before continuing, “Been with my lady for years now and we’ve never had any problems - well, none that I’m aware of, at least,” he chuckles again and though the guy seems genuinely nice, something about him rubs Javi the wrong way. He’s just not sure what.

But he doesn’t have to wait long to find out as the door to the bar opens behind him, calling the bartender’s attention as he exclaims, “Well, speak of the devil - here’s my pretty lady now.” 

Javier downs the rest of his drink, deciding to head out before he gets stuck in an hour-long conversation with this guy and his pretty lady. He hears light footsteps approaching on his right and just as he sets his glass back down, he hears a familiar soft voice and freezes.

“Hi, honey. I brought you some food,” you grin as you place a large paper bag on the bar top and lean over the counter to plant a light kiss on the bartender’s - no, your fiancé’s lips. “Aw, thanks, baby - you’re too good to me. But, were your ears ringin’? ‘Cause I was just talkin’ about you with my new friend here, uh - sorry, man, what’s your name?” 

You turn with a bright smile on your face, but it quickly falls once you meet Javier’s eyes - your warm expression being replaced with one of sheer panic. Javi can only imagine what’s going through your mind right now, but he’s almost certain it’s something along the lines of “Oh, shit.”

“Javier, nice to meet you…” putting on his best poker face, he extends his hand out to you, assuming you want him to play dumb so your fiancé doesn’t suspect Javier had his tongue down your throat just hours before. 

As if this situation wasn’t fucked enough already.

You clear your throat a little too harshly as you extend your hand out to him, saying, “Y/N, it’s...nice to meet you, too,” and when your skin comes into contact with his, it sends a shock up his arm and straight to his heart. 

While Javier’s world is tilting on its axis, the bartender sifts through the bag you brought - seemingly unaware of the shift in the air. “Baby, did you bring your momma’s hot sauce?” he looks at you expectantly, though your eyes are still fixed on Javier. 

“Uh - oh, n-no. Shit, I forgot, sorry,” you turn and offer an apologetic smile that appears strained, at least to Javier’s eyes. Este pendejo doesn’t have a clue, does he?

“You feelin’ okay? You look a little pale, darlin’,” the bartender - what the fuck is his name - asks with a look of concern, and Javi almost feels bad for the guy. Or at least he would if he wasn’t currently engaged to the love of Javi’s life.

“Yeah, I’m just...tired. I was outside most of the day, trying to fix the garden,” your voice evens out as you speak and Javier can’t help but admire your talent for masking the anxiety that must be coursing through your veins. She’s almost as good a liar as I am.

The other guy is about to respond when someone catches his attention on the far side of the room, “Gimme a minute. Don’t go anywhere, baby, and I’ll fix you another drink when I get back - OK, partner?,” he winks before sauntering off in the direction of where he was called from.

As soon as he’s out of earshot, Javier laughs, the alcohol in his system making the whole situation seem much less serious than it is, “Really, bonita? Him? Since when have you been into gringos?” His words come out harsher than he intends as he glares at you and you glare right back at him with a fire crackling in your eyes.

“Since a couple of years after a certain tontito left the country and never even tried to contact me again,” your words land like a blow to the stomach and Javi visibly winces before you continue, “and he’s actually a really kind person - he doesn’t deserve this.” You sigh as you plop down on a bar stool, making sure to keep one empty between you and Javier. 

“And what exactly is...this? I’d love to know,” he rests his elbow on the counter, leaning his head onto his hand as he angles his body toward you. “I mean, we didn’t exactly go over all the details after you had your tongue in my mouth,” you gasp at his lewd comment, but he remains unfazed as he continues, “por favor, dime qué somos tu y yo, bonita.” His words are starting to slur and his vision’s a little fuzzy but he can still make out the blush on your cheeks.

“Keep it down, will you?” you whisper harshly as you lean closer to him, planting a hand on the empty stool between you. “This,” you gesture between the two of you, “is nothing, OK? I can’t - I won’t put Jackson though that,” you lean back, your expression stern, yet weary.

So the pendejo’s name is Jackson then. Typical southern name to match his southern accent.

“Through what?” Javi asks and he knows he’s being an asshole, but that’s easier than admitting that his heart is shattering with each minute he spends looking at your beautiful face, knowing that you belong to someone else.

“I’m not doing this with you, Javi. We’re - we’re not even friends anymore, so let’s just leave it alone and...go our separate ways,” you nod as if trying to convince yourself this is the best option for everyone, but your eyes say different. Even in his intoxicated state, he can see the confusion and stress that plagues your features. At that moment, he’d give anything to hold you in his arms and kiss away all your sorrows.

“Bonita-” he starts but is stopped short by the bartend- Jackson rejoining the two of you, “Oh, “bonita” - that means pretty, right?” He grins between the two of you as if he didn’t just intrude on one of the most painful conversations of Javier’s life. 

And the way he said “bonita” is the last straw for Javier. Clenching his jaw, he slips off his stool with surprising ease and pulls his wallet out of his back pocket, his cigarette long forgotten in the ashtray on the bar.

He mumbles, “Yeah, it means pretty-” he looks at you with a level of intensity that makes your heart race, “or beautiful.” 

Dropping a few bills on the wooden surface, he nods his thanks to Jackson while clenching his fist at his side and turns to you once more, a wistful look in his eyes, “Nos vemos...bonita.”

And he walks out of the bar, his soul in tatters.

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

Translations:

pendejo - dumbass

gringos - white men

tontito - idiot

por favor, dime qué somos tu y yo - please, tell me what we are.

nos vemos - see you

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

aaaahhhhh what’d y’all think?? i hope you don’t mind I'm taking a tiny break from Mariposa - i got stuck so i decided to just do another series lmao fuck

thanks for reading! 💜

tag list: 

@spacegayofficial​ @themandjalorian​ @hiscyarika​ @mandoispunk​ @madadlorian​ @pedrolorians​ @forever-rogue​ @longitud-de-onda​ @certifiedskywalker​ @dindjarindiaries​ @no-droids-allowed​ @aerynwrites​ @buckyodinson​ @lannister-slings-and-arrows​ @gooddaykate​ @fanfiction-trashpile​ @arrowswithwifi​ @letaliabane​ @thinemineours​ @ham4arrow​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @thisainttheway​ @bluemoon-glen​ @katialvi​  @bestintheparsec​ @24kgolden​ @livasaurasrex​ @c-ly-g​ @triggerhappyflyboyy​ @fangirl-and-stuff​ @mrsparknuts​ @and-i-swear-we-are-infinte​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @kimljn​ @kristalhi​ @fatbottomedcurls​ @auty-ren​ @mabelleen​ @rzrcrst​ @pascalisthepunkest​ @blushingwueen​ @lovingtheway​ @beskars​ @mandoandyodito​ @roxypeanut​ @rosamedina92​ @sinnamon-bun​ @ct-arc-5555 @keeper0fthestars​ @poe-pascal​ @spacemacandcheese​ @destucky45​ @marvelwars​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @frietiemeloen​ @waywardodysseys​ @thick-dick-daddy-mando​ @haildoodles-writing​ @walkerchick007​ @miraelles