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wa-kaizen · 2 years

Text

channeling you and your soulmate | PAC

art credit; tono @/t0no idea credit; my violet @the-wild-candy

this idea does not belong to me but to violet/elly!

I thought it's a beautiful and very sweet idea! i never saw anything like this before so i would like to try it! keep in mind these can be both a platonic or romantic soulmate! if you feel called to multiple don't be afraid to check out each. this will be focused mainly on conversations and the way you two will interact.

with this I will use tarot as a guide not as a base for the reading! so instead of the usual 50%, this one will be 80% intuition, so take it as it resonates.

PAID READINGS ♡ masterlist

꒰ piles ꒱

→ 1 , 2 ,3

→ 4, 5, 6

sections ༉˚

‐ conversations

- moments

- random things that come through

- media that might be relevant - songs/movies/shows -

- things that connect your soul to one another

- your differences & things you share in common

- signs before you two met/will meet

꒰ welcome ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

— have fun!

꒰ pile one ꒱

black and white lady cats on a walk, facing each other

cards the hanged man, queen of pentacles, seven of swords, dove, cow, bear, archangel mary, seraphim seraphina, archangel haniel

cocoon of white light - rest in perfect love, understand oneness, shower of blessing, - open yourself to receive, pay it forward, caring community - participate and belong, enrich your life

↳ ❝ [ conversations ] ¡! ❞

green will be feminine and pink will be masculine.

" Should I get this checked out? " " For the third time I am no- Oh God, that looks ugly as hell "

" If I would be a star among millions of others would you look at me? " " I would search the sky just to find out where you went "

" Why don't you go? " " I want to see your face for a little longer "

" I think I might be bipolar " " babe, we already got the medical diagnosis "

" Hey Stacy- " " I am NOT listening to that joke again "

" Have you ever heard about this theory of- " " Yes, I am listening "

↳ ❝ [ moments ] ¡! ❞

these are visions.

The wind brushes their hair onto their face as they smile at you looking forward yelling cheerful nothing as you are in a good mood causing them into slowly falling in love with you.

Them walking home in the dark, in winter, snow surrounding the street they are walking in, which happens to be small. Warm street light shines on their face when they receive a text from you which will either result in; crying, running to you or feeling loved. The message you will send will depend on how your day will affect you.

Two people dancing to the ketchup song in some sort of gathering in a house, being silly and enjoying their time together. It possibly being morning or night time since both people look comfortable rather than dressed up.

Soup being cooked on a stove, person in charge of cooking making their heart's loved one taste it. - It's a traditional reddish looking dish and has potatos if I might add. -

Laying next to one another, listening to music while sharing earphones/airpods, feminine having eyes closed and relaxing being unaware of masculine watching with adoration in their eyes, full of love. - Hearing dandelions. -

Painting together, cheeks messy from black paint, both holding the same brush while trying to make strokes on a white canvas. - this could be a symbolism for some. -

↳ ❝ [ random ] ¡! ❞

these will be things that could happen to end up being relevant.

greys, sunflower seeds, oversized shirts, a white puppy, 80s, death of loved one, sneakers, a place! a rock in front of a river surrounded by trees but not quite a forest, ants?, culture - you two have different ones most likely -, swimming, live savers, old 2006 camera - grey with stickers, apple stickers?, hay hat, fair?, theme park, 'aim well and win!', the ketchup song - y aserejé-ja-dejé de jebe tu de jebere seibiunouva majavi an de bugui an de güididípi aserejé-ja-de jé -

↳ ❝ [ media ] ¡! ❞

these could happen to end up being things you both love or hate, just anything you could connect over.

mr krabs memes, tiktok, gen z, food accounts - saw girl eating dumplings - , dumb humour - disrespectful at times disgusting, very much gen z humour but not 'quirky' one hidden as secret desires, y'all are just both weird -, gangnam style - ? -, '🐱 clean 🐱 tight 🐱 fresh' - get help /j -, joe jonas - ??? -, disney, stereotyping, social judment, cultural apprication, 'dumb truck', hot in here by nelly, rocks - music & and literal rock -, electric guitar, lot of blacks & neutrals, cold play, 'if happy ever after did exist'

↳ ❝ [ soul connection] ¡! ❞

these could end up being; past life connection, soul family, destiny together, just whatever that relates you two to one another.

You both went through a kind of lesson that have pained your soul a lot in the past, and possibly still affects your trust. This is for sure love related, someone close to you two hurt both of you in ways so similar to each other.

It can be related to friends, parents but for most of you this is a romantic love interest who happened to cheat on you.

For them while this made them more appricative of what they have and may go out of their way to show affection due to trauma, they also have trust issues and might be insecure even though they try to hide it. They are very calm & gentle, their aura is very pure too. While for you this experience made you very paranoid and emotionally aggressive, I can see you accusing them while yelling. This is due to a mis --- understanding. This will be the root of the problem in this relationship. They are the calm and gentle earth while you are the explosive fire capable of destroying it. I know this is a hard to swallow pill for most of you however, for the majority of you the toxic - or hurtful - person in the relationship will in fact be you. Not saying you aren't able to love them, I sense many many love here, however you need to do heavy shadow work to regulate your emotions in a healthy manner.

Trigger warning; Mentions of R4P3

I know, I know, that sounds scary for some of you, but it's fine, it is indeed not for all of you. If you have been betrayed by a friend there's a huge possibility they have been betrayed the same way as you if not the exact same.

That betrayal could have been them sleeping with your ex or crush, them befriending the person who raped you, them hurting a little sibling of yours by bullying them, them disrespecting your mom.

Literally anything you can possibly think of. They have went through the pain you do, and they understand, they want to talk and they know you want to talk as well.

Here, there is no anger, no explosion, just two hurt souls connecting over what was supposed to turn out love yet turned onto a knife in your back.

I got a vision of you two laying on your back, outside while looking up at the sky, talking about all the things you two experienced, shedding tears and talking about how none of you deserved to go through that. - and I agree, you didn't. -

Otherwise, the rest is people who connect over trauma from their parents who were equally bad in raising them. Maybe mental health problems as well.

Such as depression or anxiety. Or who separate ones, who "compliment" one another. - For example, your weakness being their strength and vise visa, thus helping each other grow in specific eras in life. -

What came to my mind upon that is ADHD and Autism, but of course, you should rather take this as an example and not as a fact.

↳ ❝ [ two sides of a coin ] ¡! ❞

You two, to no surprise share a lot in common.

They share your fashion style - although they are more fashionable -, your humour, love language, level of intelligence, societal understanding, morals, political views, joy for things in life and even the things you two hate.

Anything that could be the core of your being.

Your sense of self could be the same, however your nature could be the complete opposites. I would say almost as if you two are twin flames. - Do not take my word for it though. -

They are gentle, sweet, understanding, good with words, charismatic, someone who always has control over their situation.

You are passive, think with your emotions, impulsive, assuming, judging and can misunderstanding situations.

That is of course not the core of your being, but in this reading that's what came through.

It's the sun and moon, bringing out the best of one another.

Nurturing and protect, comfort and bravery.

You might think you are the moon, but in reality they are.

↳ ❝ [ signs ] ¡! ❞

Rocks near rivers and trees, greys, crabs, - old - memes, 'sweets and kisses' - you will know better than me what this means, blues, anime, clouds, soft cybercore, friends, water, swimming, downing - in movie/show -, old music, reggae

Thank you for reading.

꒰ pile two ꒱

ginger cat lady holding an umbrella, girl in blue dress next to her, them holding the hands of multiple young kittens

cards four of wands, five of wands, the sun, panda, ant, llama, archangel muriel, guardian angel, archangel roquiel

listen to your heart - awaken your spirit abilities, tune in infinite, mahatma energy - build your light body, accelerate your ascension, unicorn portal - focus your light, listen for a message

↳ ❝ [ conversations ] ¡! ❞

green will be feminine and pink will be masculine.

" Partners in crime bestie! " " C-Clair/Clarence? Clair/Clarence I am trying to focus "

"Choose th- " " Kisses " " I didn't even finish " " I need a kiss "

" You can be James and I will be Jessie "

" Anyway, and then she slapped him! " " With those nails?! "

Y'all would gossip quite a lot, nothing harmful though.

↳ ❝ [ moments ] ¡! ❞

these are visions

Feminine being speechless, standing and staring at masculine with an open mouth while wearing a brown suit. - No, it does not show what shocked you. -

Shorter person in question crying while looking up at the taller one, wearing a white form of top wear - hoodie, zip up ect - being hurt and mad, being hugged by taller person after a comfort smooch. - Not a sensual kiss, only pureness -

Both people in question laying next to a pool on white beach chairs, feminine in striped - white and blue - bikini and the masculine in black shirt with darker pool shorts. Just vibing.

Feminine playing with a white dog at an open space - those typical chained up dogs who are usually outside -, masculine secretly adoring while drinking soda. - For some of you it will be beer. -

Feminine tracing images on the back of masculine while their shirt is off in a dark room at night as they are drifting off to sleep.

Two people laying on a cold floor, smaller person hugging the arm of the masculine tightly, both sleeping. A very sad atmosphere as you both experienced some kind of loss.

↳ ❝ [ random ] ¡! ❞

these will be things that could happen to end up being relevant.

green, beans, peas, pretzels, bees, breaks, neck, massage, chipped nail polish, blue balloon, 'pretty', safe, ling, boys, animatos, lemons, ping pong, papers, assignments

↳ ❝ [ media ] ¡! ❞

these could happen to end up being things you both love or hate, just anything you could connect over.

Jessie and James from pokemon, games? genshin?, cosmo and wanda, fairies, fairy core, mermaids, law firm, pandas, competitions, baby daddy - sitcom -, vampires, studying ?, hits from the 70s, harry potter books

↳ ❝ [ soul connection] ¡! ❞

these could end up being; past life connection, soul family, destiny together, just whatever that relates you two to one another.

Most of you already know this person and just tried to see how accurate I could get, thus already knowing your connection.

There is some part of you that just know it intuitively, yet won't trust yourselves with it.

This is for those who have no idea, so please listen carefully. You have spent life times together, however not much. It's three, this one being the third of it. So, this far, you have been friendly rivals turned lovers in each.

What I am getting is mostly 1400s and sword fights, so in a past life you two fell in love during a friendly sword fight for sure. Just had to get that out of the way.

So far with each life times your mission is to bring out the best in one another, but in a honest and truthful way without sugar coating anything like most people around the both of you would do so.

The raw and honest truth, without anyone getting offended in the process, it's something very rare and you both know how to communicate perfectly with one another.

That is very rare to experience, especially since most humans have a sensitive ego, but in your case you both can talk honestly with one another without your confidence falling down the drain.

You are both open to criticism without falling a victim to it, without being fragile when hearing certain topics.

You are like two center puzzle pieces, it doesn't make sense until you see the full picture and look between the details.

↳ ❝ [ two sides of a coin ] ¡! ❞

things you have in common and differences!

You share a difference in hobbies, interests, media, bedding?- that's very random but it's what came through, fashion, triggers and needs in conversation

The energies here are very closed off, but you certainly don't differ from one another besides how you treat your own ambitions.

It's the way you treat like rather than core things, which will allow you both to grow and learn, have a wider perspective on things.

↳ ❝ [ signs ] ¡! ❞

whistle, appa - as in, the bison in avatar -, lydia - ? - , snakes, pac man, bread, japanese flood vlogs, anatomy, the word 'why', blood, drawing on skin, white statues, yellow butterflies, caves, random technology glitches

Thank you for reading!

꒰ pile three ꒱

the focus being on a black and white kitten, one sitting on the bed as they are chatting while a third one is sleeping and as a ginger is backfacing them in the dark

cards two of pentacles, ten of wands, the moon, donkey, parrot, giraffe, archangel sammael, archangel sandalphon, archangel chamuel

enlightenment - look from the highest perspective, see the divine in everyone, violet flame - invoke the cosmic diamond violet flame, transmute all that is not love, shower of blessings - open yourself to receive, pay it forward

↳ ❝ [ conversations ] ¡! ❞

green will be feminine and pink will be masculine.

" Does it feel good? " " I mean I never had someone step on my back- "

" Laradidadi~ " " Sing this melody babe~ " " Is that how it goes? " " I have no idea "

" Soobin Soobin do you know- " " Please stop quoting it- " " Do you know Soobin? "

" You know, if we die one day, I want to share my grave with you " " If- ? "

" Do you love me? " " Did you even pay attention to what I just did?- "

" You smell so great " " It's my new perfume! "

↳ ❝ [ moments ] ¡! ❞

these are visions.

Sitting across one another at a small table, head and arms resting on it, looking into each others eyes. This being in a smaller european style kitchen.

Standing in the rain watching as someone lays on asphalt and laying next to them.

Decorating a Christmas tree together in a small apartment.

Sleeping next to each other in a car, blankets wrapped around one another. It's during a stop on a road trip, heads resting on each others shoulder and head.

Tracing things on each others hand while holding each other.

↳ ❝ [ random ] ¡! ❞

these will be things that could happen to end up being relevant.

creation, rainbow bracelet, white, hello kitty, summer hit, 'boho', chains, ice, back cracking, boots, cyber goth fashion, depression, poems, hades, flames, contact lenses, eye drops

↳ ❝ [ media ] ¡! ❞

these could happen to end up being things you both love or hate, just anything you could connect over.

k-pop, hell - the energy drink -, make up, true crime, theories, fairies, dragons, trends - focusing on piercings here -, fashion, design, materialism, memes/quotes, food shows

↳ ❝ [ soul connection] ¡! ❞

these could end up being; past life connection, soul family, destiny together, just whatever that relates you two to one another.

note; someone did definitely drown here, however the situation is different for everyone reading this. the half with thalassophobia is the one who happened to drown in these past life connections.

So, I can see people being confused upon reading the note, or even saying 'but we both have thalassophobia!' - which is the fear of larger bodies of water - and that's okay! There is more than just one things coming through.

I can see specific situations here, I will need you to use your gut and trust yourself to know which one applies to you, alright? You got this.

What I want to get out of the way is that while you are definitely soulmates there was a lot of hate in the past life you two have shared. It's the most recent one for all of you, something went wrong which caused a lot of hate. You two met at a time where you weren't ready yet. In your life time both yours and their mission is to forgive and treat one another nicely, have love and peace in yourselves, be apologetic and gentle to one another.

For a few of you, I can see your soulmate being victims of the titanic. Of course, you were there too. You were saved from dying in the cold water, while you had to watch them drown. You could have helped them, but you simply didn't want to do so, you had no intention of doing it.

There is guilt surrounding this and an apologetic aura, however you were not sad. You didn't love them, thus you didn't save them. You didn't appreciate all the things they did for you in their life towards their death. About two months before their death they fell in love with you.

They were in the process to fix their wrongs and you decided to keep on putting them down.

Now for those who can't relate - which I am sure it's a lot of you - an event similar to this took place for a lot of you. In a forest. Expect, you sat on a rock seeing them drown in the night. There is a lot of fog and it was possibly a full moon, however I do not understand why you watched? Your spirit guides do not want to tell, so try to communicate with them! Though, in the life time you two shared after it, he was the one who watched you drown.

In all of these there is a huge sense of melancholy, emptiness, lack of emotion, but there is one I got which is full of anger.

The one full of anger has zero romantic relations, in each life time you will be born as a family in a way or another.

If you are sensitive please do not read this paragraph! For the ones who feel like this is a family member, you two shared a past life together as a mother and son, in which the son ended up being drowned in a bathtub by the mother due to poor mental health.

I understand this can cause anxiety in some of you, but this life time will be very peaceful, this is for healing and loving one another. I do think that here you will be inseparable and live together in perfect harmony, a one of a kind bond with deep adoration. This is the life time where little to no things will go wrong, the calm after the storm. - yes, after. -

↳ ❝ [ two sides of a coin ] ¡! ❞

things you have in common and differences!

These is not much differences here, you both remind me of the cold wind on a cloudy gloomy afternoon, reflections of each other.

↳ ❝ [ signs ] ¡! ❞

melancholic feeling, a lot of blues and whites, messy hair, old music - 1920 -, france? french?, caffeine, days going by slower, chill air no matter the weather, no energy

Thank you for reading!

꒰ pile four ꒱

ginger cat with three young kittens in front of a cottage

cards the world, knight of cups, two of cups, archangel michael, archangel raguel, archangel charity, bear, llama

open your heart - love yourself, dare to be vulnerable, the freedom of truth, be who you truly are, magical crystal cave - switch on your inner light, bring forward your gifts

note; this pile is the one with the least information, so incase you were drawn to another pile go ahead and read that one as well! This one is very short because the connection is fragile as of now. ♡

↳ ❝ [ conversations ] ¡! ❞

green will be feminine and pink will be masculine.

I am sorry, but nothing comes through here, your spirit guides are very closed off, and the ones of your soulmate even more so. Please look at other piles incase you were drawn to more than one! ♡

↳ ❝ [ moments ] ¡! ❞

these are visions.

a girl on grey carpeted floor lying in black lingerie, recording herself as another person does something funny and both laughing.

two people taking mirror selfies in a public bathroom, but a rather fancy one.

two girls playing on golf grounds, possibly in a - golf - club.

two girls racing to get to talk with someone.

↳ ❝ [ random ] ¡! ❞

these will be things that could happen to end up being relevant.

black, cats, sapphic flag, red lipstick, m&ms, sunglasses, instagram, 2014, tea, air filter, white, acrylic nails, blues and purples, babies, baby powder, carpeted floors

↳ ❝ [ media ] ¡! ❞

these could happen to end up being things you both love or hate, just anything you could connect over.

best friend by doja cat, old money aesthetic, swimming competitions, rom com teen movies, make up brand testing, gossipping - about celebrities-, photoshoots, the kardashians, fake nails, vlogs!, directing

↳ ❝ [ soul connection] ¡! ❞

these could end up being; past life connection, soul family, destiny together, just whatever that relates you two to one another.

Power duooooo!! Go best friends!!! Leo and Capricorn energy!!!! No but for real, regardless of the root of this connection, you will be the bestest of friends.

The closest ones to one another.

Although you two are sharing a life together for the first time, you two are from the same soul family, there is no doubt about it.

You two are very close to one another and definitely understand each other in ways no one else is capable of doing so.

A very beautiful connection.

↳ ❝ [ two sides of a coin ] ¡! ❞

things you have in common and differences!

Not much differences here besides how giving and big your hearts are. You are much more cautious and they are much more empathetic.

↳ ❝ [ signs ] ¡! ❞

money, sugar baby tiktoks but with comedy - ? - , readers posting signs, purples, leds, chilly air/trees being more reactive to wind, white lilies, scooby doo, ice cold water

Thank you for reading.

꒰ pile five ꒱

ginger cat with three kittens holding a lavender umbrella on a flower field.

cards four of wands, nine of wands, seven of wands, hyena, deer, rhinoceros, archangel preminilek, archangel dorenka, archangel hope

oneness - look for the common humanity, invoke lemurian light, cosmic ruby - be a peace ambassador, practice cosmic mastery

↳ ❝ [ conversations ] ¡! ❞

green will be feminine and pink will be masculine.

" What do I remind you of? " " Fire " " Because I am destructive? " " No, you are beautiful, warm and light up my times when there is nothing but dark "

" I am in love with you " " I am in love with you more "

" If we would be a fictional couple, who would we be? " " Eren and Mikasa "

" Who do you love more, me or- " " You. " " But I- " " I don't need to know, the answer is you. "

" Thank you. " " For? " " Just for existing... You know... for being you, being here, without you my life would be hell "

" Sunshine! " " Don't call me that " " Too late, you are my sunshine "

↳ ❝ [ moments ] ¡! ❞

these are visions.

Second to last conversation being as the masculine is drifting off to sleep, eyes already closed, holding the feminine in their arms. Feminine holding back crying, to not wake them as they fall asleep after what they have said.

Both of you spinning in the rain outside of a house, rocks on the ground, not caring at all what anyone has to say. Maybe being barefoot. - I am sensing a spirit guide being mad at me for not telling you to take care of yourself here, lmao. Especially if you are black, an ancestor of yours is telling you to please wear shoes. -

Making desserts together, you making them try out a chocolate melt you have just made. Them frowning and saying it's good even though it's sour.

Two kids playing doctor, a little girl pretending to use tools to open the head of a little boy who calmly snacks on s'mores as none of them is hurt, the parents looking at them in almost horror. - I feel like, for some of you, you will have children together, if not, it will happen with little cousins of yours. -

Laying in a bed together, facing each other and staring onto the eyes of one another while smiling, stroking the cheeks of one another.

Watching netflix together on a couch, holding hands and enjoying the silence in the dark. A comfortable kind of love.

↳ ❝ [ random ] ¡! ❞

these will be things that could happen to end up being relevant.

meditation, bone cracking, yellow, bass music, spotify, the number 9, sharp nails?, braces, mint, lemon, zig zag, hair bands, pretzels, sea salt, nail strengthener, balls - the TOYS -

↳ ❝ [ media ] ¡! ❞

these could happen to end up being things you both love or hate, just anything you could connect over.

You both do not consume enough media for this to be a whole section, the only things coming through are cable tv shows relating to health and arts, possibly some cartoons.

↳ ❝ [ soul connection] ¡! ❞

these could end up being; past life connection, soul family, destiny together, just whatever that relates you two to one another.

Okay so, while I pick up a bit on their energy as well, I pick up more on yours because they are an incredibly closed off person. Very private.

Trigger warning, mentions of sa and trauma

So, what basically, this person has been sent to you by your guides, by the universe. You might at first not trust them because of trauma in your past.

You could have been sexually assaulted or betrayed by someone you deeply loved and trusted which could cause trust issues inside your heart. - which is very valid. -

You could believe - or could have - that they are horrible and will hurt you as well, thus having a hard time opening up your heart and trusting them in a healthy manner, in a moderate amount.

For a lot of you, there was no trust in the beginning at all. - or will be - Which, most highly, your soulmate will be aware of.

Though! They will be very fine with that, as they have a very pure and understanding heart, especially in your situation.

It could be due to them going through something similar, or possibly someone close to them. - this could be a mom or a younger sister. - So they already know how to deal with a situation similar to yours in a lot of aspects.

Though, even if no traumatic events happened around them, they have a very high emotional intelligence and can handle whatever way you react, even if you might think that's not possible due to insecurity and subconscious trauma by how certain people have treated you in the past.

This person is nothing like them and has a very high amount of balance inside themselves, very loving and always does their best to not react in a hurtful manner, rather try to he the best version of themselves.

So, no matter what, they would love you with their whole heart. - just heard 'to the moon and back' -

This will be healing for both of you, but your guides focus on you, because you need to know that there is something amazing is waiting for you. - said with their words. -

This will be very healing for you!! You will feel so so loved in a type of lovely way you have never been loved before. Nothing fragile and very pure intentions, this person just wants the best for you in every way possible.

This connection reminds me of pure white snow, just after it had freshly fallen. A white canvas to start everything over.

It's something that will make you feel like a human again, that will allow you to feel alive without having to worry about basically anything, at all. Where you can just be yourself.

Some of you have been through abusive connections in the past and it has taken a big toll on you. You had to constantly explain yourself, have been controlled, maybe hit even? Not for all of you tho, manipulated and a lot more only you could know about.

It's very understandable that this would make you build your walls up and push others away, which a lot people don't seem to understand.

But they do, and they will. You will have to relearn how to have a healthy relationship again, and it could be hard but they will be very patient with you and understand your heart.

It will go well, maybe even more than just well.

↳ ❝ [ two sides of a coin ] ¡! ❞

things you have in common and differences!

You are the unstable sea, which moves to any difference, who hides many deep things inside themselves and can be destructive or welcoming.

They are the wind that will support you, calm you down but also lift you up. Which will move you in ever way they can, which will support you and never leave your side.

- pisces & libra , cancer and gemini -

↳ ❝ [ signs ] ¡! ❞

white doves, chocolate kisses - the dessert not kissing actual chocolate -, wood door, icey water, water balloon, red nails, the sound of keyboards, sound sensitivity, bubblegums, strawberry flavour, red balloons, dominos

Thank you for reading.

꒰ pile six ꒱

ginger mama cat decorating christmas tree with her young kittens

cards death, the moon, page of wands, kangaroo, rhinoceros, bee, archangel zadkiel, archangel azriel, archangel mariel

creative solutions - think outside of the box, view things from a higher perspective, soul healing - align with your essence, see your true colours, cocoon of white light - rest in perfect love, understand oneness.

↳ ❝ [ conversations ] ¡! ❞

green will be feminine and pink will be masculine.

Nothing is coming through due to your spirit guides not allowing me to tap into your energy, if you are very curious you can always choose another pile or send an ask and I will be answering you privately! - please remember, anons cant be answered privately -

↳ ❝ [ moments ] ¡! ❞

these are visions

I am sorry, but nothing came through here, because you possibly could focus on your feelings more than the possibility of a better future.

Though, you can always try to choose another pile, this one is quite weak!

↳ ❝ [ random ] ¡! ❞

these will be things that could happen to end up being relevant.

Fever, butterfly, 'chapter', chapsticks, dry lips, oil paint, crying while laughing, yoga !!, horror movies, fashion, screaming matches then immediately making up, yellow roses

↳ ❝ [ media ] ¡! ❞

these could happen to end up being things you both love or hate, just anything you could connect over.

so sick by neyo, 'the boy is mine', the boondocks, yoga channels, amazon, 80s shows, make up influencers

↳ ❝ [ soul connection] ¡! ❞

these could end up being; past life connection, soul family, destiny together, just whatever that relates you two to one another.

No, this isn't your ex and that will never work out. You need to do some shadow work because if you keep being stuck up on them, you will never experience real love or a healthy relationship. They are in the past, it's time to accept that. There is a new chapter waiting for you but with the current mentality you posses you will be the problem during each hardship you will have to go through.

You have a hard time accepting this, even though you know it's true.

You keep being stubborn and ignore every sign you get that tells you to move on and healing from that connection.

While your soulmate will help you become a better person, you will either be a blessing or lesson to them, and currently it seems to be the latter. So, for the sake of both of you, work on yourself.

It does not matter if this soulmate in question is a friend or not, it applies all the same.

There is definitely something here you need to let go off, and it's a person. Ex s/o, ex friend, just some kind of ex.

↳ ❝ [ two sides of a coin ] ¡! ❞

things you have in common and differences!

They are much more emotionally aware than you are, but you possess more social intelligence than them.

You two will balance each other out in this aspect.

↳ ❝ [ signs ] ¡! ❞

00s songs, lip gloss, too much notifications, looney tunes, old cartoon network, earpiercings, passing by one another often, leopard print, white & pink & grey

Thank you for reading.

#pac #pick a card #soulmate #romantic #platonic #whichever ngl idc #tarot #astrology #astroblr #tarotblr #so many wands y'all #this was both fun and both draining #hope y'all like it <3

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itseivwhore · 1 year

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♡ 𝑪𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 ♡

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Valentine Special, day 9th : “Candy Hearts”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Pairing: Ezio Auditore x fem Reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Summary: Another year, another Valentine's Day, spent in very luxurious and expansive restaurants, showered in plenty of gifts with your boyfriend also showering you in compliments, attentions and kisses...or at least, that's how it always has been until this Valentine's Day, when Ezio decided to try something new and simple: staying in the comfort of his home with you, with some music, his cooking skills, his Italian charm and a lot...a lot of candies.

*˚ .♡⋆ﾟˊˎ -

A sweet and muffled melody slowly crept into your light sleep, mixing with your confused and numerous dreams and altering them. And this sweet melody, which seemed as if it were floating in your mind, was none other than one of the old Italian songs your boyfriend used to listen to in your company: and you were immediately able to recognise it.

Along with the light-hearted, carefree notes of the song, you could also catch a glimpse of Ezio's tuneful voice humming quietly over the song. You were also able to perceive a delicious perfume intruding into your now drowsy sleep that slowly and gently woke you up completely.

You blinked a few times, quickly bringing a hand in front of your eyes as if by instinct, to protect your still sleepy vision from the sun's rays as was your custom. But no ray blinded your eyes, and no ray touched your skin; peeking through the cracks between your fingers you saw that the living room was warmly lit by numerous candles, their small flames flickering whenever the breeze flew through the open window, making even the light curtains move in a sensual dance.

Removing your hand from your face, you yawned and then took a few more seconds to bask in the quiet, comforting atmosphere of that February evening, continuing to listen to Ezio who, a few steps away from you, was busy as he continued to sing lightheartedly. Closing your eyes, you grabbed the blanket to adjust it better over your shoulders: but as soon as you pulled it up, you heard objects falling on the floor.

Propping yourself up with an elbow, you raised yourself on the couch, an expression as surprised as moved when, peeking down, you saw some red, heart-shaped lollipops laying on the ground. Stretching your arm out you picked them up, only becoming more joyful when you noticed plenty of the same lollipops scattered all over the couch, over you, over the coffee table: the more you looked around, the more you found them all around the living room.

Caught up in such happiness, you let out an excited giggle as you hurried to open the candy wrapper, thus arousing the attention of Ezio who suddenly stopped singing.

"Oh no, she woke up!" you heard him exclaim from the kitchen in a tone that was exasperated and theatrical to say the least, as if he had been taken aback by your sudden awakening. As you tried to open the plastic surrounding the lollipop, you sat up cross-legged on the sofa, collecting all the candies on your lap, looking at them excitedly.

"You don't seem particularly happy about it," you replied in a falsely sorry voice, triumphing when you finally managed to remove the candy wrapper.

"I am not particularly happy, amore mio bellissimo..." Ezio retorted in a high tone so as to be heard, while the noisy clanking of pans and dishes punctuated his every word. "...because I haven't finished yet".

"Finished what?" you asked as you turned your head towards him over the sofa, seeing him quickly walking around the kitchen, rising a questioning eyebrow at him. As soon as he heard your question, he stopped all together, standing behind the counter and, watching you with an almost disappointed face, he placed his hands on his hips.

"The surprise" he answered as he mirrored your inquisitive eyebrow, spreading his arms wide and giving you a knowing expression, as if he expected you to have already known the answer and were lying to him.

"Another one?!" you almost screamed, surprise and disbelief taking the best of you again. You knew very well that this was what characterized Valentine's Day: every year on this day, Ezio gave his best, giving you lots of attention, taking you out to dinner at luxurious and expensive places, buying you anything you wanted. Every year until this last one: Ezio decided to change plans, to do something different but that you would both enjoy. So you both decided to stay at home, not going out and do nothing else but enjoy each other's presence.

During the course of the morning he had continued to make little presents appear out of nowhere, just when you least expected it, leaving you happy, thanking him if not with many kisses and praises. But you didn't expect that, after all those presents, he was planning another surprise. But then again, no wonder: if Ezio was anything, he was an utterly dedicated man to you and his love for you.

"You don't seem particularly happy about it" he sarcastically replied, mocking your own phrase, trying to mimick your voice as he resumed to walk, coming closer to you with a playful smirk on his lips.

"You have done so much already for the whole day Ezio, there was no need for more" you muttered in a low voice while slightly frowning, placing your chin on the back of the couch and watching him, starting to notice how handsome– and appealing he was with that white apron tied around his torso, hugging his waist and hips just right, his brown hair tied back in a low ponytail, a few strands falling on his forehead. There was something incredibly charming and sensual about him while he cooked for you that it drawn you to him even more than usual; while those old Italian songs played in the background.

"Oh please piccola, you deserve this and so much more…" Ezio replied, smiling and making a vague gesture with his hand as he walked towards you. He stopped just behind the sofa and, after wiping both hands on his apron, leaned back on the sofa; leaning down in your direction, he left a tender kiss in your forehead, for then leaving more sweet kisses on your nose and cheeks, feeling him smile when he pressed his lips to yours, kissing you with a little more passion as one of his hands cupped your cheek.

You moved as to get up so you could kiss him better, but he tutted at you, purposely and lightly biting at your bottom lip whole deteaching from you. Seeing you fight, he completely detached from the searing kiss, leaving your mouth open and with a taste of red wine on your lips. Ezio then placed his entire hand on your face, covering it, and gently pushed you on your back on the couch.

You laughed amused at his gesture, taking his wrist with your hand, trying to pull him towards you again. Ezio fondly smiled at you and, leaning down to kiss your knuckles that were wrapped around his wrist, he freed himself as he took your chin between his fingers, caressing your jaw.

"Stay here" he whispered as he walked back in the kitchen and leaving you laying and staying still on the couch while he resumed to cook.

But despite his soft spoken order, you got up completely, turning your steps into the kitchen while still wrapped up in the blanket. You saw your boyfriend finishing to prepare what looked like two heart shaped pizzas, and your own heart melted at the sight: nevertheless of what he said just some moments before, you still felt a bit guilty that he had been busy and fussing all over you for the whole day, and it looked like he wasn't going to stop anytime soon...all the gifts, the attentions, and now also all the food he was preparing for you with so much passion and love.

If St Valentine was about something, it was indeed about love, but also about giving and receiving. And you wanted with all yourself to let him rest for a little while.

"I still haven't done anything for you" you let him notice while you leaned with your side on the counter, reciprocating his witty smile when he raised his gaze up at you, seeing a light malice quickly glistening in his brown eyes, already knowing what he was thinking about: but his words betrayed your thoughts.

"You don't have to" Ezio insisted as he placed the last basil leaf on the pizza dough, looking at it proudly, then turning his smile to you, watching in amusement as you licked the lollipop.

"I must" you pointed at him with the candy in a playfully threatening way, him spreading his arms wide in a sign of surrender, carefully scrutinising both your face and the lollipop. Still sporting a mocking grin, he turned away, taking the trays where the pizzas were laid out and placing them in the oven. But you were shocked when he, as soon as he turned away from you, quickly stretched out an arm and swiftly took possession of your lollipop, putting it straight into his mouth, laughing loudly when you gasped in amazement.

He turned to the other side of the counter, untied his apron and threw it on a chair, then turned his gaze to you, who were still upset about your stolen candy.

"Mhh well then, what about you'll come here…" Ezio began in a nonchalant tone, gesticulating as usual as he sat down on the chair. "...and sit on my lap..." he tapped one of his thigh with his hand, never breaking eye contact with you, truly seeming like you had already forgotten about the way he stole your lollipop.

"...and you'll read aloud what there's written on those candies?" you followed his other stretched arm, seeing what he was pointing at: a white small bowl with many pastel coloured heart candies, on which there were written little wholesome phrases. For once again in that day your heart melted and your eyes lit up at the sight in front of you, happy of how much joy you both could find in small things such as simple heart shaped things, food, songs, candles and each other's kisses and presence.

"That will be your present for me. While I listen and watch you. Mh, che dici tesoro?" Ezio concluded with a suggestive tone, that charming smile still curling his lips up which always made you all giddy inside, him giving one long lick to the lollipop, winking at your flustered expression as to tease you even more.

Warmth rushed on your cheeks as you walked towards him and, placing one hand on his strong shoulder, you sat on one of his thighs, his hand immediately finding your hip, steading you. Stretching out an arm, you reached for the bowl filled with the heart candies, starting to take a look at the candies, humming as you took some in your palm, examining them.

"Even though those hearts will never properly show my love for you...it sounds perfect" you whispered near his ear, smiling before eating one of the candies, hearing him chuckle as he patted your thighs.

"That's my girl"

---

｡･:*˚:✧｡ Translations

° Amore mio bellissimo = my beautiful love;

° Piccola = baby;

° Che dici tesoro? = what do you think darling?

#ezio auditore x reader #ezio auditore x you #ezio auditore x y/n #ezio auditore fanfic #ezio auditore one shots #ezio auditore fic #assassin's creed x reader #assassin's creed one shot #assassin's creed modern au #ac modern au #modern ezio auditore #valentine special #st valentines #valentine's week #modern ezio auditore x reader #assassin's creed fanfic #my writing

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lumin3sc3 · 1 year

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Note: Late birthday fic for Scars, sorry if its bad lmao 💀. Also I wasn't sure what names to use for him so I've jus used his past names so yeah.

Warnings: Spoilers for the following content: wanderer teaser, archon quest 3.3. Scaramouche backstory (that's it for story spoilers I think? lmk if I need to add more). As for content warning: angst but dw there's fluff. Expect grammatical errors. Reader's gender isn't mentioned, so you can see this as whatever gender you'd like.

The Marionette's Heart

The Wanderer has gone by numerous titles and names. Though he wouldn’t call them names per se, since after his downfall he no longer wanted to be attached to or remembered by them, But you were the first to give him a name—not any ordinary name, but something meaningful. Something he could finally call his own, like his glowing vision, which he wished was his heart.

You and the Wanderer were traveling partners. And even friends, you’d say! (Though he denies that wholeheartedly, blatantly ignoring the minuscule fuzzy feeling in his chest.) Though you two acted like you despised each other’s existence, you and he seemed to work in harmony.

And before he knew it, the florets of love began blooming in his chest. "When did he realize he was in love?" you may wonder. But here's the tricky part: He had no idea. Maybe it was gradual? Maybe it was when you complimented his cooking while he was yelling at you to eat faster and then wash the dishes, or when you played a song hoping he'd like it and got that small nod and your ecstatic grin in return. Or maybe it's your happy laughs and lovely words laced with love and affection. You were always kind to everyone around you, including him. As a close friend of the traveler, you were well aware of the stories that came with this mysterious wanderer, even when you first agreed to journey with him. Once he realized this, he was astonished. Whenever he’d think of that, he’d scowl. Why would anyone, in their right mind, ever care for someone so arrogant and rude? And to give them all of your affection? Preposterous.

But Scaramouche is aware of his actions; he is aware that he does not deserve the love you lavish on him nor does he deserve the comfort you provide when he lashes out at you.

Everyone thinks of him as a person who’s just being nice because he’s doing it against his will or because of Nahida. which is true, he’ll admit. But it might be just you that he’s genuinely happy with; he’s never bothered to indulge in idle conversations or listen to anyone talk about their day unless it’s you. He oddly seems to remember every detail and point it out the next time—something you may not recall.

Now, he doesn’t really know how to go about this complicated situation, but he seeks advice from Nahida. She says that he doesn’t have to overthink it, and so long as he gets the point across, you’ll understand, it’s the thought that counts after all. Since your birthday was nearing, Nahida suggested taking you to a simple place and confessing.

And so it was your birthday, and your friends surrounded you, singing songs, giving you gifts, and showering you with affection and praise. You couldn’t wish for more. Amidst the chaos, your eyes scanned the room for a certain indigo-haired man; unfortunately, your efforts were in vain, and you looked back to the ground slightly dejected. Once the celebration had died down, you went outside to get some fresh air, where you saw a familiar face leaning against the wall, seemingly waiting for someone.

"Hey!!" You wave blithely, which attracts the attention of the man. It was none other than your friend, the Wanderer.

"Oh, there you are; I was waiting for you." He answered. You raise an eyebrow curiously.

He doesn’t wait for you to comment and drags you away, mumbling about how he wanted to show you a place.

Once you two reach the destination, your eyes widen to the size of saucers, in front of you was an absolutely breathtaking view.

"I’m aware your friends had a party of sorts prepared for you. So I know this isn’t much compared to that."

You were on top of a building, it seems. You walk towards the railing, as you lean on it, the cold metal makes you shiver slightly. Scaramouche joins you as he leans on the railing, the only distance separating the two of you being the hat atop his head.

The sky was spread out in front of the two of you. The orange gold that stretched far and wide, with tinges of purple hiding behind it, The sun blossomed in bright shades of orange or red. There were clouds as well, masking the mountains behind them; you could feel the warmth radiating from the sun as it gleamed. Your face aglow with rays of sunlight. The sunset looked gentle and prepossessing. as if it had been painted just for the two of you.

"It’s beautiful. Thank you." Your face adorns a lovely smile.

The wanderer swallowed hard before mustering the courage to approach you in slow strides, and you looked at him with suspicion.

"I... have something to say." He starts, his eyes darting back and forth, restless.

"Is something wrong?"

"I..." he pauses, as if an invisible force is choking him and preventing him from speaking.

"I might have caught feelings for you. It's absurd to have feelings for a mere human. But you’re not an ordinary one." He justifies himself.

You were taken aback—all this time he had been in love with you! You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that he shared the same feelings as you. But that didn’t stop the immense euphoria you felt. It was as though your heart would’ve jumped out of your chest with the way it was beating so loudly and at such a quick pace.

You clasped his hands in yours; they were cold yet so soft and delicate. Intertwining your fingers within his, you stared into his blue eyes; they reminded you of an inky midnight sky.

"I love you too." You say gently, and he swears something in him changed; his mouth felt dry; he had no sarcastic remarks, snarky comments, nothing. His thoughts were running in circles.

Scaramouche does not believe in having someone to love or care for. He’s never held his trust in anyone, and he’s learned to build an iron wall around his emotions, making sure he’d never have to feel betrayed ever again.

until you came along. You made him question his morals; you spun his world upside down before he even acknowledged it.

... but he’s petrified; he endured three betrayals before to have realized the world was an elaborate tapestry of lies.

The first was given to him by a god, his creator, his own mother. The second was his friend, whom he considered family. And the third was a child like him, promising to be by his side as he betrayed Scaramouche, powerless in the face of mortality.

So what's to say you wouldn't be the fourth?

You were staring at him, eyes drinking in all of his features; his hair was dark and soft, falling over the frame of his face perfectly. His skin was delicate and smooth, similar to that of porcelain, and his eyes were glassy and overflowing with unknown emotions. His cheeks were sprinkled with rosy blush, and his lips were soft and plump, in the prettiest shade of pink. The moonlight reflected on his skin, enhancing every feature and making him look downright ethereal. It was as though he had been crafted by the gods themselves. But your admiration was cut short as you heard him speak up,

"You…love me?" His voice was slightly hoarse, and his eyes were sad.

"Yes, of course, why wouldn’t I?"

"But after all that I’ve done, you know who I am, yet you chose to see me as someone you can love?" His voice was starting to falter. And before you knew it, tears welled up and fell through his long eyelashes. They were streaming onto his face uncontrollably as his figure trembled. His fear of betrayal had given way to insecurity.

You cupped his cheek, asking him, "Hey, don’t cry. You know I love you, all of you. It doesn’t matter who you’ve been in the past or who you’ll be in the future. It matters who you are in the present, and you’ve changed. You aren’t defined by your past, so don’t let it change or overwhelm you. And I love you for who you are, not who you were."

He didn’t know what he did to deserve someone as amazing as you.

You brought him closer to you and connected his lips with yours. His lips were soft and loving, making you feel as though you were on cloud nine.

And that’s when he heard a small sound from his chest. His heart was beating for the very first time. He was a marionette with an empty , hollow space for a heart. Yet here he was, hearing his own heartbeat synchronized with yours. He felt ecstatic; it was all he wanted and all he wished for. and there it was!

When you parted your lips, he muttered,

"I..love you."

"Now that wasn’t so hard to say, was it?" You giggled.

"Shut up. Don’t make me regret everything I said, idiot."

"Love you too, Kuni," you say as you pull him into a warm embrace, laughing as he spat out more angry comments. What you failed to notice was the small smile that danced on his lips.

His heart would beat for you. Only you.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚

A/n: this was suppose to be short but I got carried away, I apologize 😭. I kinda got stuck in between, so sorry if it isn't rly that good. But yes, if you did enjoy it, rb's and interactions are appreciated!

Anyway, thanks for reading till the end, have a good day and take care <3!!

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact fanfics #wanderer genshin #scaramouche #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi x reader #genshin fluff #angst

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hopefulatrocity · 6 months

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From The Ashes- Chapter 12

Note: Sorry for the lateness. This is a bit more of an intense chapter, you get to see the full picture of Pheonyx's scars and also how it affects Daryl to see them. The after effects of Pheonyx's encounter with Shane are also intense. Both of our boys are dealing with a lot.

Spotify (Songs that remind me of Pheonyx, Pheonyx/Daryl, or just songs that I listen to while I'm writing.) Song: Coal by Dylan Gossett(If you're a fan of Noah Kahan I recommend checking out Dylan's music!)

Dividers: @firefly-graphics and @omiyours Banners: @liminal-creations

Chapter CW/TW: PTSD, Past rape/noncon, past child abuse/neglect, anxiety attack, physical description of abuse scars, intense transphobic internal monologue, vomiting

Prev / Masterlist

The first time Pheonyx had an anxiety attack was the second week after he woke up in the hospital. It would have happened sooner but–up until that point–he was drugged to oblivion and catatonic between bouts of medication-induced slumber. When the doctors started weaning him off the pain meds, he became more aware of what was happening around him and it seemed like every emotion was multiplied to a thousand. He spent a week feeling numb and tired to suddenly being surrounded by lights and sounds that set every synapse in his brain on fire.

Overall, he was able to keep his calm when feelings were flooding his system, but he broke down when he woke up on the 9th morning and Aaron wasn't there. Despite the fact that Pheonyx spent the majority of the first week sleeping and staring at a wall, Aaron had stuck by his bedside faithfully. The only times he left were when Pheonyx was unconscious. Even then, it was only to go home, shower, and eat. The curly haired man even slept on the uncomfortable recliner in the corner of the hospital room. Pheonyx was still unsure why the man had chosen to stick by him. Aaron’s duty to him ended the second the ambulance had taken him away. But, according to his nurse, within ten minutes of arriving at the hospital’s ER, Aaron was in the waiting room using all the charm he had to try to get information on how Pheonyx was doing.

So, when the presence of the man who saved Pheonyx's life–who protected him while he was at his weakest–was nowhere to be seen after a night full of nightmares, his strength shattered. Darkness pooled in the corners of his vision and suddenly every breath was like fighting a dragon that took up residence on his chest. The feeling only got worse when the heart monitor attached to him began to beep incessantly and a small alarm went off above his head. Within a few minutes, the room was suddenly filled with medical personnel. The nurses tried to calm him, talk him through the attack and it started to work, the deep breathing, but when the doctor grabbed his arm to try to administer a sedative, he found himself screaming. The hands, rough even under the rubbery feel of the gloves, felt too familiar. His skin crawled and he had to get away, trying desperately to stop history from repeating itself so soon. Aaron had probably heard his screaming from down the hall, because he ran into the room, face red and eyes frantically scanning the enclosed space. Still trying to avoid the syringe in the doctor's hand, Pheonyx's heart immediately slowed when he saw Aaron pushing past the nurses to get to his side. All that fear and pain finally came to a head and he cried for the first time since he was hurt. Aaron advocated for him when the doctor was insisting on pushing more drugs into his system, chewing them out for being so rough with someone who had been abused so badly only 9 days prior.

The whole time, Pheonyx held Aaron's hand like it was a lifeline. Like he was floating out at sea, the anxiety and panic, a kraken trying to drag him by his legs under the surface, and the only thing holding his head above water was the warmth coming from the other man's smooth hands. He spent the next 2 hours gripping Aaron's fingers until the feeling of impending pain finally eased.

Later, his therapist would call it codependency, the fact that he couldn't cope without the other man's presence as a buffer, but to Pheonyx it was comfort. He'd been hurt so many times in his life, and no one had stopped to help him. Not even his own mother. But this complete stranger had taken it upon himself to not only rescue Pheonyx physically from death, but also emotionally from the darkest depths of his mind.

As time went on, Pheonyx managed to find his comfort in other things. Music, cooking, getting tattoos, reading. And when he found Kismet starving behind the dumpster of Zombie Ink, he found himself being the strength for something suffering from similar abuses. He still had flares of anxiety and panic when he was in large groups, especially around strangers, or when cis men pushed in a little too close to him. But it had been over 2 years since he had a full blown attack. All the progress was ripped open like a scarred wound when Shane had grabbed his arm. It brought up so many antique sorrows from the dusty depths of his mind. That lack of bodily autonomy and those memories of being broken were like a rattlesnake wrapping tight around his brain. Constantly slithering around his mind and coiling up, ready to strike at any moment. Ready to inject its venom of self hatred and consternation. It took 6 years of therapy to bash the snake to death but the ghost of the creature still ruled his thoughts sometimes.

Pheonyx used to have a rhythm for pulling himself out of that dark dimension. But it had been so long that he nearly hyperventilated before he was able to calm his breathing and work through the mental exercises his therapist recommended for him. The sun had completely disappeared from the sky by the time he felt his feet hit the ground again. The moon wasn't even over the trees yet though, so he hadn't been lost for long. By some miracle, no one had come out the front door, or looked over from their campfires on the other side of the main property. He loathed the idea of worrying his family, or having to explain his moment of weakness to one of Rick's group.

Despite the evening of his heart rate, his stomach rebelled at the abuse his mind threw at him and bile slithered up his throat. Clutching his stomach, Pheonyx only had a moment to get to the side of the house, out of sight, before the meager contents of his stomach came out of his mouth. Having only eaten jerky and some toast earlier in the day, it was mostly acid. Pheonyx grimaced at the taste in his mouth and the burn in his throat.

He wiped sweat from his forehead and used his booted foot to sweep some dirt over the small amount of vomit on the ground. He didn't want to waste water, or draw attention to himself, by turning on the hose to clean it up. The grass crunched under his feet as he made his way to the stables, breaking through the sound of crickets and cicadas that rang through the evening air. Though he knew he would benefit from a shower, the water would be heaven on his tired muscles, and the stench of sweat, dirt, and walker blood emanating from his skin was probably horrible. But he knew he needed to go out tonight, taking a shower before getting dirty again just seemed wasteful. The traps needed to be refreshed with fresh offal, and he needed to make sure to burn any bodies that had wandered into the spikes.

The sound of the porch door being pushed open made Pheonyx glance over his shoulder. Like a spotted ghost, Kismet shoved his way through the flimsy door and tumbled down the wooden steps towards his owner. A large bully smile was wide on his face as he ran to catch up with Pheonyx. He almost tripped 3 times, his brain unable to fully control the massive paws underneath him. Pheonyx braced himself for impact, as he knew Kismet wouldn't be able to fully stop himself in time, and he was glad he did. The thick skull of his fur baby rammed into his knee and nearly toppled him over.

"Jesus Christ!", Pheonyx grunted and placed his hand on the dog to settle him. "How have you not killed yourself yet? Or someone else for that matter?", he muttered under his breath. "Come on, bud. Let's feed the horses."

The duo made it to the stables in less than a minute. Kismet immediately left Pheonyx's side, while the man went to turn on the lanterns scattered around the barn, to greet all of the horses. Koda and Nellie, both chestnut quarter horses, stuck their noses down to nuzzle against the enthusiastic dog. Baker was an older roan quarter horse. His fur was based black with a dusting of white across, making him look like he'd rolled in flour. Even more gray covered his nose, indicating his age. Hershel had acquired him before Pheonyx was even born.

Just like most old men, Baker was craggy and refused to give Kismet the time of day. He snorted and tossed his head when the pup made his way over. Kismet didn't let it phase him though, he hopped up and stole a kiss from the grumpy horse, who let out a whinny in protest. But he left him alone after that, moving to the last horse housed in the stables, Beauty. The beautiful quarter horse was entirely black aside from a white star on his forehead, just like his namesake, Black Beauty.

Pheonyx watched as the stoic horse tossed his head in delight, his lips rolling up in a ridiculous smile at seeing Kismet making his way over. While Koda and Nellie simply put up with the over enthusiastic dog, and Baker hated the furry beast, Beauty enjoyed the pup's company.

Turning his attention to the buckets in each stall, Pheonyx sent a thank you to the earth when he noticed the fresh water, hay, and the remains of feed in their individual buckets. Maggie must have taken care of the animals, knowing that he would be gone most of the day. He had no issues feeding the animals, it was pretty much routine after two months, but he was tired. And the idea of measuring feed and vitamins just made his brain feel like mush. Glancing at the analog clock (whose batteries had just been replaced recently) on the wall outside the tack room, Pheonyx sighed when he realized it was close to 10. He had to go out tonight but it was still too early to make his way to the woods. He could see some lights in the house from the stable door, and he didn't want to risk anyone finding out about his nightly routine. Not yet. Running a hand through his thick hair, Pheonyx contemplated the best move. He knew if he fell asleep now, he would be dead to the world for the next 8 hours.

Deciding to kill some time, Pheonyx unclipped his weapons from his belt, taking care to place them on his cot, and stripped off his dirty tank top. He tossed it into the corner of the stall, making a mental note to wash it later. He grabbed some baby wipes from the same stall and began to wipe away some of the sweat and dirt from the day, grimacing at the black dirt streaked on the soft cloth. It would have to suffice until he was able to take a shower later. After discarding the wipes, he took a moment to run a hand over his flat chest, admiring the feeling that he dreamed of for so long. Underneath the raven wings spread across his collarbone and sternum, two mirrored crimson lines ran under his pectoral muscles, breaking for about an inch in between. The scars from the surgery were still red and stark even against the tan of his skin. They were a bit raised, mostly from moving too much after surgery and not stretching the skin properly. But he couldn’t help the fact that the world ended while he was in recovery. He couldn’t exactly adhere to his surgeon’s post-surgery care instructions while battling dead people. And it wasn’t like he didn’t have worse scars on his body. At least these scars were ones he felt he could be proud of. Pheonyx ran his hands over the bumpy skin, massaging the tissue a bit, trying to help the nerves reconnect and soften the area like he read about. He did this for a few minutes before going to the tack room to grab some protein bars. His stomach was still rolling from throwing up earlier, but he knew he needed the energy. So, he scarfed down two bars that were labeled as chocolate peanut butter flavored but tasted like neither chocolate nor peanut butter. The burning in his belly calmed a bit, thankfully. Enjoying the air on his exposed chest, the burst of euphoria giving him some extra energy, Pheonyx pulled a haybale to the center of the stable aisle and laid a horse blanket on top to protect his butt from the itchy straw.

Pheonyx went to the stall with his cot and opted to kick his shoes off, allowing his feet to breathe for a short while, the cool air feeling like heaven on his tired toes. He grabbed his guitar case from the corner and opened it up, pulling out the off brand acoustic that he had gotten at a garage sale for 5 bucks. Despite its nameless brand, the instrument was inlaid with beautiful flowers and dark wood that made it look expensive, almost hand made. Beth had been the one to pick up guitar first, at age 6, learning from an older lady at their church. In her excitement after each lesson, she would walk Pheonyx through everything she learned. With the 12 year difference between them, Pheonyx had always had a hard time connecting with the vivacious blonde. But music allowed him to bridge the gap that their age had brought between them. Video calls had given him the chance to keep up with her progress even when states separated them. He wouldn’t consider himself a guitar prodigy, he couldn’t read sheet music for shit, but he learned chords quickly and had an ear for replicating songs that he heard a few times. Overall, singing and playing were a distraction. Another piece in the complicated puzzle of his recovery.

Pulling the strap over his shoulders, he relished in the cool feeling of the wood against his bare skin. Kismet got to his feet from his spot that he claimed in front of Beauty’s stall, stretching like a cat, and trotted over to plop himself down in front of the hay bale that Pheonyx was going to sit on.

Pheonyx maneuvered himself onto the hay bale, tucking his legs in a criss cross pattern and placing the guitar in his lap. He strummed the strings experimentally, sending a thanks to the earth when the notes came out in-tune. The Georgia heat had a tendency to fuck with the wood but his case seemed to be doing a good job of stopping expansion despite the violent temperatures.

Fingers moving in a practiced pattern against the frets, he tested out some chords, trying to think of what to play.

“Any suggestions?,” he asked, looking around the stable at each of the animals. The only answers he received from the horses was a glare from Baker and a snort from Nellie.

“You can request it as much as you want, Nell, but I’m not playing Wonderwall. I’m not that much of a douche.”

Kismet lifted his head from its spot on the cool concrete and gave a little awhoo, a mix between a howl and a whine. Although it wasn’t an actual spoken answer, Pheonyx gathered what the dog was asking for.

“Dylan Gossett? I’m surprised you’re not sick of him yet. You worked hard today though so you get first pick.”

The dog’s tail beat against the stable floor, as if he understood every word, before he laid his bulky head down onto his paws with a sigh.

Calloused fingers moved onto the proper strings, the metal ribbed wire pinched the skin in a familiar pain. He shut his eyes and pictured the song in his head. The chords and the feelings flowing from his brain straight into his fingers. The soft music floated throughout the barn and he started to sing, letting his brain rest from the stress of the world and the demons in his mind.

Daryl tossed on top of his sleeping bag for the upteenth time in the past hour. It was too hot. That’s what he kept telling himself. The sweat coating his body and the thick air was what was keeping him up. It wasn’t the green eyes that kept flashing in his mind. Or the thick brown hair. Or the colorful art that dotted tanned skin. He wasn’t thinking about how much of that skin was probably covered in tattoos. And he certainly wasn’t thinking about how that skin might feel underneath his fingers. Would it be soft? He felt like it would. Their hands had brushed only for a moment earlier and that small glimpse of sensation was softer than the flannel pillowcase he had for 13 years growing up. Originally a red plaid, the case had been washed so many times that the fabric was dulled to a light pink, and so thin that he could practically poke holes in it with just his fingers. He refused to throw it out though. It was soft and comforting when his life was all sharp edges and pain. During a drunken rage, his father had burned it. Just like every other good thing in his life.

Sighing, Daryl flipped to his other side, too tired to process the implications of his obsessive ideas. He tried to clear his brain of all thoughts, only focusing on the intake and exhale of his breath. He needed to get some rest. He had gotten barely 2 hours of sleep the night before and if he was going to spend another day in the sweltering woods, he needed to relax.

When the first whisper-soft notes of sound began to float around him, Daryl thought his mind was simply fucking with him. Playing music to an unknown song while he was trying desperately to sleep. The melody of cicadas and crickets began to blend with the soft notes and Daryl opened his eyes, nose scrunching in confusion. Everyone else was bunked down for the night, aside from Andrea who had the first watch shift. He knew that because he heard the concurrent “good night”s and the accompanying sound of tents being unzipped and zipped again. He’d kept a mental tally. Dale was the first to announce his departure, including Carol in the plans as well since they were both sleeping in the RV. Glenn and T-Dog were next. Then, Shane had kicked dirt over the fire before heading to his own tent. Rick and Lori were sleeping in the same room with Carl. None of the group had music players, and radio was a thing of the past. While the notes were quiet and dampened by the walls of his tent, he didn’t think it was coming from the farmhouse, it wasn’t muted enough for that. The only other sound was the occasional rustle of sleeping bags from the tents in the distance, as Daryl had made sure to set his tent up a fair length away from the main camp. No one else seemed to be disturbed by the sound, which wasn't entirely surprising, the music was barely audible. He doubted any of the people in the group had the heightened sense of situational awareness to hear it.

Grunting in exasperation, at the weakness of his group members and the fact he wasn't getting sleep anytime soon, Daryl lifted himself up into a sitting position. He wiped a dirty hand over his short hair. The oldest sister, Maggie, stopped him after he was done talking to Carol earlier. She didn't say much, just offered their bathroom up to him so he could shower, with hot water surprisingly. The idea sounded amazing. He'd taken a brief one at the CDC but all the running and searching made that cleanliness a distant memory. But the idea of stepping into that farmhouse made him nauseous. The idea of tainting the purity of the pristine house with his dirty soul was sickening. He'd take a dip in the creek tomorrow sometime. That's the only place he felt a dirty Dixon like him deserved. Instead of answering, he'd simply grunted a thanks and walked away. He was regretting it now though, the dried sweat and dirt made his skin itch a bit as he crawled out of his tent into the humid air, making sure to grab his bow. Fresh sweat began to pebble on his skin, starting the cycle all over again. Looking around, the only movement he could see was Andrea on the roof of the RV, her head doing a back and forth sweep with a pair of binoculars, checking the fields for signs of walkers. Even the farmhouse was still. The only sign of life was a small oil lantern flickering in one of the second floor windows. Gripping his crossbow tightly, his palms sweaty against the smooth surface of the stock, Daryl started to follow the music.

Grass crunched under his booted feet as he made his way out of their makeshift camp and got closer to the farmhouse. As he passed the covered porch, the music grew in volume, still barely audible. He walked slowly around the house and stopped when he found the source of the sound. A distance off, soft lantern light poured out of a set of rolling doors on a long building that was much newer than the other structures on the farm. Several small paddocks and water troughs surrounded it leading him to believe it was a stable or barn of sorts.

Realizing one of the Greenes must be listening to music in the barn, he loosened his tight grip on the bow. The noise was barely noticeable, especially over the summer song of crickets and nightly breeze, so the likelihood of any walkers being drawn towards the farm were slim. As the distance between his feet and the barn decreased, a voice began to become understandable through the lulling chords of guitar strings.

"-I still keep it with me

Tucked under all the memories

Your voice echoing throughout those trees…”

The song itself sounded folkish with a hint of country quality, a mix of husky voice and rural twang. Daryl was more of an old rock fan, his limited musical library consisting of AC/DC, Guns N’ Roses, and Led Zeppelin. That was the typical type of music that played in any of the garages he would work at while Merle was doing stints in whatever prison or court mandated rehab. So, he’d learned to prefer it. But Merle was a fan of old country music, so he did often listen to George Strait, Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, and Dolly Parton. Of course, Merle insisted he only listened to Dolly because she had a good rack but he had seen the older man shed a tear while listening to “Down from Dover”. The song playing had many of the old country-esque qualities that he was familiar with, although the lyrics themselves were a mystery to him.

“And through unfavorable weather

And holes in the leather

These boots still covered in tar

Well I'm still praying to the heavens

And hoping for them sevens

But hope only gets a man so far…”

When he was in front of the open stable doors, the heavy scent of hay and horses indicating that the structure was indeed a horse stable, he realized it wasn’t a radio he was hearing, but the dulcet sound of someone singing and playing the guitar. There were 3 lit lanterns spread throughout the aisle, casting shadows and yellow light throughout the space. It took a moment for Daryl’s eyes to adjust to the brightness and the unfamiliar surroundings. His sight was immediately drawn to the figure in the center of the building. Pheonyx was sitting on top of a covered hay bale, calloused fingers expertly plucking and strumming a beautiful dark wood guitar. His head was turned down, focusing on the strings so Daryl couldn’t see the movement of his lips but he watched as the man’s shoulders moved along with every word and how he moved slightly side-to-side with the rhythm of the music.

“When this game of life plays heavy on my heart and–

Love is tough and loneliness is twice as hard and–

I'll carry that 'bout everywhere I go

They say pressure makes diamonds

How the hell am I still coal?…”

Pheonyx's voice was like the campfire from the 4th of July when Daryl was eleven. The comforting tone was like the heat from the flames, surrounding his shoulders and wrapping his body tight. It wasn’t deep, but still husky and dark like the smoke that wafted up into that humid summer night, staining his tattered clothes with a familiar soothing scent. Occasional broken notes were reminiscent of the crackling fire, the popping and hissing of its own song. Despite the roughness of Pheonyx’s voice, it was still soft like the marshmallows that Merle stole from the local Piggly Wiggly. Daryl had stolen the chocolate to pair with the sweet cloudy treat, but neither could fit any graham crackers under their shirts. So, they used their pocket knives to cut holes in the marshmallows, put a piece of chocolate inside, and then roast it over the flame. The outsides of the sugary pillows were charred to hell, and the chocolate barely room temp inside, but it was still perfect. Just like that memory. 2 days later, Merle left for basic training and ultimately left Daryl alone with their abusive father. Despite that, that 4th was one he looked back on with fondness. It was perfect but also imperfect. Just like Pheonyx’s voice. It wasn't the flawless heavily edited voices that he heard playing on the radio before the turn. It was imperfect and that made it perfect.

“I've seen heaven without dying

Met the devil without trying and they both seem to wanna talk to me

But I'm all outta luck now and my dreams aren't worth a buck now

It's tough tryna land on my feet…”

Daryl watched the shadows dance across the younger man’s shoulders as the song picked up in intensity, muscles in his arms clenching and unclenching with every movement. He watched Medusa’s snakes on his shoulder dance with the rhythm of the song, as the tissue and sinew kept up with every note. Eyes trailing up over the smooth skin of his shoulder, he reached the man’s collarbones when his body became acutely aware that Pheonyx wasn’t wearing a shirt. Just as the thought entered his mind, which effectively became foggy, Pheonyx leaned back a bit, lifting his head and giving Daryl a full glimpse of the tattoo imprinted on the man’s chest. Much like the style of the other pieces on his body, a gothic style raven was spread across the hard form of the man’s collarbones. Wings spread in flight, the raven looked like it was decaying, feathers were falling from its open wings and bone could be seen poking through torn skin over the expanse of the bird's body. Mouth drying, Daryl wondered what it would be like to trail his fingers over the skin there. Would it be a beautiful juxtaposition of hardness and softness, the velvety derma laying over dense ossein?

“When this game of life plays heavy on my heart and

Love is tough but loneliness is twice as hard and

I'll carry that 'bout everywhere I go

They say pressure makes diamonds

How the hell am I still coal?...”

Before his thoughts could enter even more of a dangerous territory, Daryl was distracted by the little bit of movement that he caught at the corner of his eye. He was sure Pheonyx hadn’t noticed his presence, but the animals in the barn did. The large eyes of 4 horses were drawn to him, but they showed no outward reaction to his existence. In fact, he swore he saw them moving their heads to the rhythm a small bit. Except for the gray horse, he just glared at the archer and flipped his head at him. At Pheonyx’s feet, Kismet had raised his head and was smiling at Daryl. He didn’t get up from his position on the floor but the dog’s tail started to thump faster against the ground. Chocolate brown eyes looked at him in happiness and Daryl would be lying if he said it didn’t make his chest ache a bit.

The song sped up even more and Pheonyx sat up a bit straighter, exposing more of his torso from behind the guitar. Daryl looked away from the happy dog and his eyes were pulled into the long red scars that ran across Pheonyx’s chest. His heart began to race, mind wandering to all the possible causes for the imperfections.

“And everyday it's getting colder

Since that day in October

When you told me it was over, so I left

So if you need me, well I told you

I'm on the better side of sober

Tryna find a four-leaf clover to get me out of this mess

This game of life plays heavy on my heart and

Love is tough but loneliness is twice as hard and

I'll carry that 'bout everywhere I go

They say pressure makes diamonds

How the hell–”

It took a moment of confusing internal panic for Daryl to figure out the scars, running directly under the raven and parallel to its wings, were from some kind of surgery. Recently, if he had to guess. The scars were still bright and almost angry looking compared to the surrounding skin. Almost imperceptible, evenly spaced dots ran on either side of the angry skin, imprints of stitches long gone. The same dots ran in a circle around his nipples, which almost looked a bit scabbed.

The voice of his father rang through in his mind, Fuckin’ bitch thinks cuttin’ ‘er tits off will make ‘er a man? Ain’t gonna change the cunt between ‘er legs. Always knew ya were a fuckin’ faggot. Look at ya, boy. Lustin’ after some psycho tranny. Prolly the only pussy ya could ever get.

Daryl physically shook his head, pushing out the remnants of his father’s hate. The man was dead but still haunted his son’s thoughts. That smoke-roughened voice was ingrained harder in his body than the scars on his back.

“This game of life plays heavy on my heart and

Love is tough but loneliness is twice as hard and

I'll carry that 'bout everywhere I go

They say pressure makes diamonds

How the hell am I still coal?”

As the last note vibrated through the strings of the guitar, silence enveloped the wide space. Behind him, Daryl noted the sound of crickets increasing, the music no longer drowning them out. Aside from the insects, the only sounds that broke through the space was the slight shuffling of horse hooves and low panting from Kismet.

“5 bucks to request a song.”, Pheonyx’s voice, slightly scratchy from singing, brought Daryl’s mind back into focus. Despite the archer’s earlier thoughts, Pheonyx knew he had an audience. After spending a full day walking side-by-side with the other man, the sound of Daryl’s soft steps was easily imprinted in his mind. So, he’d heard him the second the man’s boots came within a few feet of the stable.

Blood rushed to Daryl’s face as he realized he was caught gawking. Embarrassment–and the remnants of his father’s words–sparked a small amount of anger in his chest. “All yer caterwaulin’s gonna bring a herd down on us. The fuck ya think yer doin?”, he snapped, taking a few steps into the stable, “This ain’t fuckin’ American Idol or some shit.”

“No, it’s definitely not. You’re much cuter than Simon Cowell.”, Pheonyx quipped, raising an eyebrow. Men raising their voices was typically an anxiety inducer for him, but something about Daryl’s demeanor made the other man feel more like a hissing kitten as opposed to a feral mountain lion.

Shocked at Pheonyx’s words, Daryl didn’t know how to respond. Was he joking? Daryl Dixon wasn’t cute. He was an ugly old redneck. No one had ever called him cute before.

At Daryl’s widened eyes, Pheonyx stood up, and placed the guitar down on the hay bale where he had been sitting. Kismet raised his head and looked between the two of them before huffing and lowering his head to his paws. Within a few seconds, soft snores filled some of the silence. Slightly scared to hear the other man’s response to his flirting, Pheonyx opted to continue. “You don’t have to worry though. The windchimes in the woods help dilute the sounds from the farm. As long as I don’t decide to take up the electric guitar, we’re as safe as we can be.”

“Still shouldn’ be takin’ any chances,” Daryl grumbled, his eyes narrowed. He briefly glanced down, taking in the full view of Pheonyx’s torso. Under the scars on his right side, a quote was scrawled across his ribs, although Daryl wasn’t close enough to see exactly what it said. On the opposite side, in a fancy cursive font that was larger than the quote’s, was a girl’s name. Daryl didn’t understand the weird rolling in his stomach at the idea of someone else’s name being on Pheonyx’s skin. It wasn’t something he’d ever felt before and he pulled his stare away, hoping to unpack the feeling at a different time. Drifting down, a quarter sized round scar was prominent on the younger man’s stomach. It wasn’t as new as the ones on his chest. This one was older, and less smooth. The scar was brown and sunken into the surrounding skin, almost as if something gouged the flesh out. Almost unnoticeable on his pale skin, several pale jagged lines circled Pheonyx’s belly button, not scars, but stretch marks. They were very light, and Daryl only saw them because the lantern light was hitting the area just right. Those lines led under low slung jeans and Daryl had to stop himself from thinking about what else those jeans were covering.

“Probably not, but sometimes you have to weigh risk and reward. What is the point of living anymore if you can’t do the small things that make you happy?”, Pheonyx crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t do it much, just needed to let off some steam.” He took in the bedraggled appearance of the other man. Daryl was still wearing the same clothes from earlier but now they looked wrinkled, more wrinkled than before. Short hair was sticking up on the back of his head and he had a look on his face that reminded Pheonyx of Beth when she woke up from her naps as a baby. "Can't sleep?"

The deep grunt from Daryl’s chest was almost a guffaw. "Was tryin. Heard ya singin. Thought maybe someone left a music player on or somethin’,” He looked at Pheonyx and a wave of shyness came over him. The slight upturn of the other man’s lip was making the moths in his stomach beat against his intestines with the strength of a CAT bulldozer. He had roasted up a squirrel before heading to bed, the meat probably hadn’t sat well with him. Gripping the crossbow strap on his shoulder, he brought his thumb up to his mouth to chew on the corner of his nail. “Yer pretty good”. The words were spoken softly. He wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted Pheonyx to hear him.

Surprised at the compliment, a small squeak escaped Pheonyx’s chest. He covered it quickly with a cough and rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks," He ducked his head as blood rushed to the surface of his skin, heating up his already warmed body.

Daryl gulped as he watched a red pigment pop up over Pheonyx’s cheeks and slowly spread down his neck, to his chest, to his stomach, and past the waist of his jeans. The only response he could muster was a grunt as he tried not to think about how his own blood was making a similar southward journey. Although this was probably for a much different reason. Daryl averted his eyes to the floor of the stable, suddenly fascinated by a small piece of dried mud that oddly resembled the state of Florida.

To hide his embarrassment, Pheonyx wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. “So, um- I figured we'd pick up where we left off tomorrow. Sophia seems to be sticking close to the creek. There are a few landmarks along there she could be holed up at-”.

Without thinking, Pheonyx turned around, going to grab one of the three unopened water bottles sitting on the table outside of the tack room. His mouth was suddenly dry so he opened the bottle and took a few hefty swallows to remove the cottony film that had slowly spread over his taste buds.

At first, Daryl didn’t see them. All he saw was more ink spread across broad shoulders. It was easily the most eye-catching tattoo that he had seen on the man so far. An amalgamated blend of dark reds, deep purples, fiery oranges, and bright yellows in almost paint-like strokes created an image of a phoenix in flight. Both wings reached up towards Pheonyx’s shoulder, the feathered ends were ragged flames that almost seemed to be in perpetual motion. Smoke and ash circled its feet and followed in a cloud behind its body, a nest of history and rebirth. A death left behind. Small black eyes were galvanizing against the backdrop of smoldering colors. Those little dots told a whole story in and of themselves. The expanse of inked skin was an enchanting piece of artwork that practically flew off the surface it was needled into.

It was only when Pheonyx lifted his arm to bring a bottle of water to his lips, did the lantern light accentuate the skin that Daryl thought was smooth only moments before. Instead of even flesh, heavy scarring marked almost every inch of skin along his whole back. The type of scarring Daryl was all too familiar with. Long, deep lashes broke the surface of the area. Only slightly thinner than his own. Whip marks. Dozens of them. More than Merle and he had combined. Littered between each mark of rancor were round, sharply-demarcated cigarette burns. Less than the whip marks but still a dozen at least. Daryl had to force down the squirrel that threatened to make a return appearance. Those memories from moments ago–happy memories of campfires, charred redneck s’mores, and brotherly bonding–were quickly replaced by nightmarish flashes of subjugation and brutalization. Red stained leather repeatedly falling down on his back, breaking open the soft skin of his boyhood and replacing it with the tougher, thicker skin of his adulthood. Each lash another brick on the wall he kept around his heart, a testament to his distrust and solitude. He needed to leave. The muscles in his legs were twitching. His brain was sending the signals to his feet to run but they weren't listening. It was like sirens were going off in his head and he was right back at that dirty old trailer, hiding in his tiny closet. Praying to a God his mother had so fiercely believed in.

To think that Pheonyx had felt something similar, more if the amount of scarring was anything to go by, made him sick. He had to get away. Get away from the reminder of the weakest points of his life.

Pheonyx turned around, placing the bottle cap back on his water, and stopped his rambling at the ghost standing in the entrance of the stable. Daryl’s bronzed skin was suddenly cadaverous, the blush that had been there moments before was completely bleached from his body. Sweat shined on his forehead and the whites of his eyes were nearly imperceptible against the pallid color of the surrounding flesh. Blue eyes latched on to him and he was nearly floored by the amount of emotion rolling off of them. While something wiggled in his brain that told him he was wrong, Pheonyx identified the emotion as disgust. The way Daryl’s eyebrows pushed together and his mouth pushed into a thin line, made the revulsion evident. He felt a surge of panic when he realized what caused this sudden change in the man across from him. His back. He hadn’t even thought about it. Growing up, he tried not to be ashamed of the scars but it was hard not to be. For so long he had to hide them, from his mother, then from his siblings. His mother wrote notes so he didn’t have to change in the locker rooms at school, ashamed of what his peers would say about their family. When he left Georgia, he made the ultimate decision to leave his hatred for the marks behind as well. The back tattoo had been his ultimate fuck-you to his father’s abuse. The tattoo artist he worked with specialized in scarring, and even used some of the scars to create the lines and color of the fiery bird, incorporating pieces of a broken childhood into a beautiful picture of reclaiming. But that familiar feeling of embarrassment and mortification slipped back into his heart at the look of repugnance on Daryl's face. Feelings that he swore he would never feel again.

Before Pheonyx could utter a word, Daryl whirled around and disappeared into the darkness of the night. A bubble of sorrow traveled up his throat and the familiar sting of tears began to fog up his vision. He scrubbed his eyes with the hand that wasn’t holding his water bottle, refusing to let those little beads of weakness roll down his face. That feeling of sadness was quickly replaced with anger.

What the fuck is wrong with me? He’s just a guy. I haven’t even known him for a full day. His feelings shouldn’t determine my self worth!, His internal monologue screamed. He was a fighter. He had been broken so many times. Beaten into dust. But he fixed himself. For years, he sat and glued those pieces of himself back into place, replacing the destroyed one with new pieces, learning to live with the holes of ones he couldn’t fix. But he was whole. And he did that. He wasn’t going to let some guy destroy his very essence. In anger, Pheonyx tossed the water bottle at the tack room wall. The plastic caved easily and a spray of water spread over the cement floor. The horses all jumped back in shock, their hooves clipping on their stall floors.

Having heard the sudden movement of Daryl’s escape and Pheonyx’s outburst, Kismet looked at Pheonyx with worry. He lifted himself off the ground and trotted over to his owner. He pressed himself up against the man’s legs and nudged his head up against calloused fingers. A low whine escaped his barrel chest, a vocalization of his concern.

Guilt ate at Pheonyx’s chest. He hated scaring the animals. “Sorry, guys.”, he spoke softly to them all, trying to calm himself.

He thought Daryl was different. Earlier that day–when the man had accepted his identity without any protests or questions– Pheonyx felt like he might have found someone he could connect with. If not on a romantic level, at least as a friend. But he was wrong. The look of horror on the man's face as he backed out of the barn had that familiar feeling of shame filling his stomach. The scars that laced his back like a patchwork quilt of heartbreak and abandonment. Each piece was a square of fabric that told its own story. Daryl was the same as everyone else, seeing only the scars on the surface and judging him for them.

“Fuck it.”, He refused to sit there and wallow in self-hate. Pheonyx walked with purpose to his stall, grabbing his bag of clothes and digging deep until he found an old clean band t-shirt. He pulled the soft fabric over his head, covering the objects of his discomfiture. Snatching up his cutlass and hunting knife, he quickly hooked the weapons to his belt, the weights of them a blanket of comfort across his skin. Opting to leave his Glock behind, he looked around for his bow and quiver that he had given to Maggie to put up. Both of them were leaned up against the small table by his bed, and he grabbed them. Feeling a bit of an evening breeze, Pheonyx also grabbed his jean jacket. The light blue denim was soft from years of wear and the sewn in red hood made for good protection whenever the Georgia skies opened up. He shrugged on the jacket, making sure the hood wasn’t tucked inside. Movement was slightly limited with the material but it was better to have his arms covered since he was going out alone.

Pulling the quiver over his shoulders, he gripped the bow in his hand, some anger still running through his veins. He shut off all but one of the lanterns in the stable and made to leave. The clicking of familiar nails on the cement floor made him turn around to the big dog following him.

“Go to the house, Kismet. You can’t go. You know that.”, another soft whine rumbled through the dog’s chest and Pheonyx felt guilt crawl in his stomach. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’ll be okay. Go on. Go to bed.” He used the bow to point toward the house.

Sad chocolate eyes stared at the man for a moment. Then, Kismet huffed and started trotting towards the farmhouse.

Rolling his shoulders, Pheonyx pulled an arrow from his quiver and nocked it. He walked until he reached the edge of the woods and stepped over the barb wire that encased the wood line. Just like every other night, he pushed into the gloaming of the night and chased after shadows.

Taglist: @yoongibaybee, @edgyboi10000, @dixonsboy19, @clairealeehelsing

#daryl dixon #fanfiction #daryl x oc #twd daryl #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon x omc #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd fanfiction #daryl x trans!oc #daryl dixon x trans!oc #daryl x ftm oc #daryl dixon x ftm oc #daryl x omc #daryl dixon x male oc #daryl x male oc #gay daryl dixon

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zkyfall · 11 months

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14 Questions ✨👻

Thanks for tagging me, @sweatandwoe and @dreamyonahill 🥰!

Nickname: IRL it’s a more masculine shortening of my given name. If someone uses my full name we’re Conducting Business. Online I’m Zky 👨‍🚀

Sign: 🛑 /jk its Virgo and yes I’m a neurotic perfectionist but I try to choose peace and keep it under control

Height: 178cm/ 5′10″

Last thing I googled: "cm to inches” lmfaooo the metric system is admittedly superior but damned if I can remember it

Amount of sleep: Not enough

Dream job: Saw an artist at a con the other day that sells cute fanart and art of their OCs to cover their cat rescue costs and I think that would be nice. Or finance coach for people with money anxiety.

Wearing: Denim short shorts + Denim Shirt over a cat tank top 😎🌞unusually fashionable today

Movie/books/media that summarizes you: The Stranger by Albert Camus, I read it as a child and it resonated so much with past me, I’m hesitant to re-read it now and re-examine myself. At the time though, it left me with the strongest impression that while you can choose to embrace apathy and insulate yourself from the rest of the world, it will kill you for it.

Favorite song: Currently In undertow by Alvvays (gonna see them live this fall SO EXCITED👏 )

Instrument: C grade Shower Singer 🤠can’t wait to go to karaoke again and force everyone to listen to classic country

Favorite author: Kathryn Ann Kingsley, the best Villain Romance author ever imho. Still insane over her necromancer series so if you’ve ever read one of her books pls tell me your thoughts 👀

Aesthetic: Generic cubicle worker, lots of sweaters and black slacks. Would love to be more fashionable one day but that day is not today.

Random fun fact: I have eye implants because I lost a substantial amount of my vision by my late 20s. A decent amount of it was genetic (astigmatism) but a lot of it was my fault. Please try to limit screen time to four hours a day and, when performing close work (reading, writing, anything on a computer or phone) take breaks every 20 minutes to look at something more than 20 Ft. away for 20 seconds.

...that wasn’t really fun. I guess what IS fun is that technically I might be considered a cyborg 🤔?

Anyways! Happy Monday, tagging @bucky-yes, @riddlcr, @agoutighost, and @bennidraws Feel free to ignore if you’ve already done or want to stay sexy and mysterious on main 😘

#ask zky #ask box

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sebsxphia · 3 months

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Sebbie, if you're ok with it, might I share a little blurb that was sitting in the back of my head whilst in the shower this morning?? I don't wanna overload your inbox but I was really hoping you'd be ok with me sharing it. I highly, highly suggest listening to the song "Our Paths Will Part" by Hans Zimmer while reading it, but if you don't want to, it's all good.

Rhett knelt near the altar in St. Michael's church, his eyes stinging and burning with tears and a tight coil in his chest. Never in his life had he seen a haunting this bad before or had been so scared the way you had collapsed into his arms after running out of that damn house. He felt his whole body shaking with fear and guilt all at once as the emotions weighed down on him, the memory of Pastor Jim and the others carrying you back into yours and Rhett's shared home, only to lay you in your shared bed where you now lay, warm and alive, but in a deathlike sleeping state.

He was supposed to be the man of God, the strong one of you both who protected you with every fiber of his being. His love for you had burned hotter than the sun and when you admitted to him that you had "the sense", he had grown more and more protective of you.

'You fucking asshole.......!' the voice in his head berated. 'Why did you let her go in there alone......?! You were supposed to protect her from that......that THING.....!!'

Rhett felt something cool against his cheek and when he pulled his hands away from his tear-stained face, he saw that it was his wedding band, the very same little gold ring you had put around his finger almost two years ago to the day.

A flood of memories came back to him in the silence, the rain battering the tiled roof of the old church and rumblings of thunder crashing outside. He felt something in his pocket, a polaroid he had taken before leaving home. He had almost forgotten about it, the little polaroid of you holding Amy when you had first adopted her, wearing your pretty blue spring dress and the morning sunshine on your faces.

Rhett stuck the polaroid back in his pocket, his gaze turning up to the niche where the statue of the Madonna holding her baby stood. He was dumbstruck at the resemblance between the statue and the photo when he inexplicably turned to the niche on the other side of the room where another stood.......Michael, the mightiest of the archangels, sword raised above his head and crushing the devil beneath his feet.

Rhett felt the fear and guilt turning to something else, the tight coil loosening until he felt something deep and sparking welling within him, something he had never felt before. He closed his eyes for a moment and something strong came to him, a vision? A dream? He didn't know, of a man and a woman walking through the desert with others behind him and a voice speaking.

'Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you'.

Rhett felt it growing hotter and hotter, this unknown strength beginning to build within him. "I took a vow m'lamb," he said under his breath. "I took a holy vow in front of Pastor Jim, to love and protect you for all my days.......I ain't leavin this earth without you!"

Rhett rose up off the floor and strode into the back of the church, lighting a pair of incense sticks to leave in the dish at the base of the statue of Michael, crossing himself and saying a quick prayer for you, for Pastor Jim and the others who were helping you and him. He stuck the silver crucifix into his belt, gathered up the old leather covered Bible and hurried out into the thunderstorm. The thunder crashed and rolled while white jags of lightning lit up the night sky, Rhett's booted feet hitting the sidewalk as he broke into a run.

"Hold on m'lamb," he said under his breath. "I'm comin......I'm comin."

Sebbie if you want the Part 2, I'll always be happy to oblige but I don't wanna overload the inbox (lol).

AAAAAAAH i love this so much! i love everything about this lil’ au so much and i did listen to it with the music, and it all just came together and it was just *chefs kiss* perfect! thank you so much for indulging me with this my love! 🥰💌

#💌you’ve got mail #auroralightsthesky <33 #rhett abbott #preacher!rhett abbott

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reids-rendering-reality · 3 years

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Guys My Age

Summary: Y/N is the newest addition to the BAU team and Spencer appears to have taken a special liking towards her. The only problem is, he thinks he’s too old for her. However, that’s all about to change when they share a hotel room.

(A/N: I’m such a sucker for the hotel room trope so I combined it with two of my other favourite ideas: Spencer being older than the reader and catching her doing yoga)

Type: fluff + a sexual innuendo or two

Warnings: dirty thoughts, insecurity about age, age gap, anxiety, yoga?

Word Count: 2.1K

Spencer Reid’s POV

I pulled the handle of my satchel over my shoulder as I sighed. It was a very long day in a small rural town somewhere deep in Alabama. Everyone else had gone back to their hotel room, besides Hotch and I. There was just something about this case I couldn’t get out of my mind. The feeling of being so close to the final piece of the puzzle, as if it were on the tip of my tongue but I couldn’t grip it. Yet I had to let it go for the night and get some rest. The much needed REM sleep could give me an entirely new perspective on this problem to me tomorrow. At least that’s what I hoped.

On the walk to the hotel room I was getting increasingly nervous, the more rooms I passed in the hallway. This small hotel did not have enough rooms to accommodate the whole team separately. They only had four rooms for the seven of us. JJ and Emily had immediately paired up, just like Rossi and Morgan. And Hotch being the team leader took the single room. Leaving me with our newest and youngest member, Y/N.

It’s not like I didn’t like her. That’s not what it was at all. Just, she made me a little bit nervous. She was so beautiful that sometimes I couldn’t get out any words around her. And that says a lot because I always have something to say. But as cheesy as it sounds, in some moments there is not a single fact that I can recall.

But the elephant in the room demands to be heard. She is younger than I am. And that by a lot. By exactly ten years and three months. That appears to be a lot. I don’t really know why, but that bothers me. We are both adults, but because of social conventions at our age, I feel as though it is inappropriate. Yet if I were 60 and she were 50 or I was 80 and she was 70, no one would even blink at the gap. Yet because we are young it matters. I feel sad when I think about it because I like her a lot. And when we talk I don’t notice the age gap. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that it wasn’t even there at all.

What surprised me as I was having these thoughts and neared the room was the fact that I actually considered asking her out. Since Maeve I have not been on a single date. And who said she would even be interested in anything beyond a casual friendship or even colleagueship with me? That’s not even considering the amount of courage it would require for me to tell her. But it’s not like that would be a fruitful endeavour.

And that was the last thought I had before I reached the door to room 179. A prime number. Prime numbers would be my lucky numbers if there were such a thing.

As I rummaged around my pockets and satchel for the key card I noticed the sound of music coming through the door.

“Gotta thank him he’s the reason

That I’ll find what I’m looking for.”

I heard a woman sing over the sound of an electric guitar. I still hadn’t found my key card.

“Guys my age don't know how to treat me

Don't know how to treat me.”

My movements stopped when my brain registered the lyrics. Guys my age…?

“Guys my age don't know how to touch me

Don't know how to love me good.”

My breath hitched and I gulped, key card in hand. Did she mean that? Could it be possible that she would be interested in someone ten years older than her? The feeling of hope was beginning to form in my brain, scenarios of what could be clouding my vision. But they were quickly pushed aside by a dark storm of self-doubt. Because most people don’t listen to lyrics as closely. The lyrics to a song don’t mean anything to them. Did they mean anything to her?

I realised I had been standing in front of the door for way too long and gathered all my confidence to go inside. But nothing could have prepared me for what I was about to see. After closing the door behind me and tucking away the key card into my bag I turned around for the first time.

There she was. In the middle of the room in front of the two twin beds on a yoga mat. Her front leg was bent as she stretched her back. She was only dressed in skin tight pants and a matching bra that complimented the way her body was contorted. The soft light from the night lamp next to one of the beds made her skin glisten just noticeably as if it were glowing. I could feel my eyes widen as I my brain finally added up the pieces of what I was seeing.

“Oh, hi Spence!” she said gleefully turning her head towards mine, “I was feeling a little tense after sitting in that conference room all day. I hope you don’t mind.”

I didn’t even bother to attempt to talk, I could feel how dry my throat was and how my lips would not listen to any command I would’ve given it. So I just shook my head and pulled my eyes away from her as she moved her upper body towards the floor, holding herself up by her ellbows. I walked towards the beds in her general direction trying not to notice how gorgeous her ass looked now that her body was turned away from me. That I even had that thought surprised me and caused a blush to rise to my cheeks. I was thankful that she couldn’t see my face in that moment as I loosened up my tie. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, my attention drifted back to the song.

“Don't know how to love me good

So I'm never going back”

There was nothing in that moment that could keep me sane. My wildest dreams could have not come up with this scenario. It felt utterly unreal.

As the song ended I saw her change positions again from my peripheral vision.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” she said while turning the music down.

I noticed panic begin to fill my brain. She wanted to have a conversation.

“I um- it’s been kind of a long day,” I said and cleared my throat, while deciding whether or not it would be a good idea to turn around towards her.

“Have you been at the station the whole time? You must be exhausted,” she responded and continued when I didn’t answer, “I thought you could show me that show you’ve been gushing about.”

How was this real life? My brain began to lose control of my executive functions as my body turned around to face her. She was now sitting on the floor, legs stretched out in front of her, her hands wrapped around her feet as she looked up at me. The low-cut top she was wearing gave me a perfect sight into the curves of her-

I dared not continue that line of thought, already flustered enough as it is.

“Really? You’d be interested in watching that?” I said and blinked.

Her lips spread into a smile, twinkling her eyes, “Yeah, of course. The way you described it makes me really curious.”

“We could watch an episode or two before going to sleep, if you want.”

I just had to take this chance. Even if I could only begin to have a friendship with her, I wanted to be close to her because for some odd reason, I couldn’t bear to admire her from afar.

So not long after, I was setting up the odd hotel room tv to watch the show. It took me the entirety of her taking a shower so that I was only standing back up when she was walking out of the small bathroom in a white bathrobe and a towel wrapped around her head. She smiled up at me as she walked past me, her hand brushing my arm so casually that I questioned whether it actually happened.

I hesitated again before sitting down on the bed. Was she going to get dressed in front of me? Because no matter how much my amygdala wanted me to see that, my frontal cortex wasn’t going to allow it. I forced myself to look through my satchel in an attempt to find a distraction as I waited for her next move. But luckily, she didn’t tempt my brain too much into overdrive.

I felt as if there was a higher power not willing to spare me for the night when she came out of the bathroom a second time, now something someone might call dressed. She was in a loose light coloured satin pyjama set that showed off her legs perfectly. And as if that were not enough to torture me for the night, she joined me on my twin bed with her bag of chips.

“I hope that’s okay with you, then we can share snacks,” she said so innocently that I almost believed it. But I could still hear the song ringing in my ears and I noticed her eyes take a short glance down at my lips as she said it. I was almost convinced that I wasn’t imagining things.

What really sealed the deal was that I noticed her scoot a tiny bit closer to me every once in a while. At first I could only feel the warmth she radiated, but after about 30 minutes I felt the bare skin of her arm against mine. My breath quickened, which I was sure she had noticed.

I knew the episode off by heart. Which was to my advantage because then my brain could run in a speed that I could barely follow. I tried my hardest to calm down a little bit, which was hard when I could feel the movement of her body as a whole-hearted laugh filled her throat.

“Y/N,” I whispered with all my courage. It was so low that I almost thought she wouldn’t hear it, but she turned her head towards me her eyes following a few seconds after.

Her eyes met mine and it was like I could feel my neurons firing electrical signals throughout my entire body. And just like that, in one swift movement she had grabbed my face by the back of my head and pulled me into her lips.

That was the first time that night that my muscles began to relax as I eased into the sensation of her soft lips moving against mine. It was as though I was beginning to lose myself in the kiss, all insecurities about her feelings towards me or my inexperience gone.

When she ultimately pulled away and rested her forehead against mine, we were both panting gently. My whole body felt warm with the feeling of her breath on my skin and her hands still in my hair. I didn’t dare open my eyes, still afraid that I would wake up from this idyllical dream.

We both didn’t know what to say as we pulled away further and looked at each other. I wanted to say something, to let her know how I felt, but once again, my brain did not follow my commands.

“Did you know when you kiss someone for the first time it causes your dopamine levels to increase for a short period of time? It also makes your heart rate and the oxygen supply to your brain to raise,” I heard my voice say in something between a whisper and my normal talking voice.

“For the first time, huh?” she grinned a little at me.

I reached for her hand and gently took it in mine. I moved her palm over my shirt to the centre of my chest. I could feel my heart race through her hands and I know she could feel it too. She looked up into my eyes again with a look on her face that told me all I needed to know.

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10millionyearsdungeon · 4 years

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Reminiscence - Second Tempo

A/N: So! Second Tempo is a continuation of the First Tempo posted here. Just like the last, it’s part of the Haikyuu! HQ Server Collab; check out the rest of the work on the flaming smut pile. ===================================================

“Oi, it’s Ukai. Leave a message.” “Oh, Keishin…” Your body writhed against your fingers, phone pressed against your ear as another gasping moan ripped through you. The pads of your fingertips glided over your sensitive nub effortlessly as you grinned into the phone balanced between your shoulder and your ear. The game of cat and mouse had been going on for well over six months between yourself and Keishin; the ceaseless war of attrition had the teams and your students wondering who would break first. An international volleyball conference had you and the Karasuno girls’ team pulled away from Miyagi, from the handsome coach with those sharp, leering eyes.

“I know you’re away for training camp with the team…But I need you, Keishin.” Lust coated every syllable, each word dripping with desire as your fingers teased over your nipples and dripping folds. Another lascivious moan echoed into the receiver as you slipped a single dainty finger into your twitching hole. “I can’t seem to keep my hands off of myself…god, I wish it was your fingers slipping inside this tight, needy hole…” Sprawled out on your hotel room bed fresh from a shower, your wet hair plastered itself against your neck as you continued to rock into your own hand.

He invaded your thoughts; like intrusive kudzu he wrapped himself around your senses even halfway across the world. Did he know how you had ruined two pairs of panties at the last voicemail he sent you before the girls’ last match that day? Did he realize how desperate you were to be home? Could he hear it in your voice?

“Keishin,” you whined out, fingertip just brushing your g-spot. With a soft growl, you snatched your phone from your ear and put the device on speaker so you could angle yourself to reach deeper. With your body able to contort a little easier, the phone rested next to your flushing face against the pillowcase. Your body jolted into waves of pleasure as your legs tensed into your stroking. “Fuck, I can’t wait to come home, oh fuck, oh fuck, Keishin…”

The familiar stars dotted your vision as you bucked into your hand, clit rubbing fitfully into the meat of your delicate palm. You could almost see the flash of bleached-blond hair, the tanned skin stretched across those long, toned forearms. Painfully arching your wrist to drive your curling fingers into that familiar, soft spot you clenched tightly around your thin digits. You couldn’t fight the orgasm that threatened to overtake you quicker than anticipated. “Oh, fuck, Kei…Keishin!” Your words were gasping, breathless sounds, the same sounds he took pride in drawing out of you.

“It should be your cock I’m cumming on. Why isn’t it your cock, Keishin? Fuck, I…” Another cry left you trembling as you came around your fingers. The ecstacy you felt solo was a pale shade of what you had grown used to with the snarky coach. You whimpered into the phone and shifted the sheets around you, arms hopelessly searching for him in the stark white abyss of your hollow afterglow.

“I can’t wait to see you, Keishin…Until then,” you closed and hung up the phone. A small grin bloomed over your features as you came down from your brief high. The back and forth of phone tag and stolen video chats for the past week made you long for the thug-faced twenty-something coach fiercer than you could imagine. For the moment, the extra pillows in your bed would have to suffice as a sub-par substitute before you could nuzzle into the warmth and inhale the smoke and sweat from his skin again.

It was a long day of drills and penalties for the Karasuno Boys’ Volleyball Club at the joint training camp with Fukurodani and Nekoma. The boys continued to run themselves full tort against the other two teams, trying to refine and rebuild their skills on the court. Keishin found himself getting frustrated with the lack of progress the team was making, even considering the upperclassmen were bordering on complacency. Daichi assured him they were trying their best and maybe it was time for their coach to take a break.

He ambled from the gym with a lazy kind of grace and fumbled for his cigarettes and phone from his pockets. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at the voicemail notification he saw across the screen. The tiniest of cocky grins stretched his mouth into a crooked curve as his thumb hovered over the play button. “Damn, must’ve just missed her,” he sighed, pressing play and holding the phone to his ear. The second your moan, your deliciously sinful voice graced his ears his face heated up and his ears flushed a deep red. Your voice went straight to the growing tent in his sweats, an ache he would be sure you repay you for in kind when you returned. The wailing fit on the other end was audible to passers by as the flustered coach turned the volume down with thick, numb thumbs. A dark-haired Fukurodani student passed by, green eyes narrowed at the coach’s flustered appearance and wordlessly made his way into the gym, no doubt to start another four-on-four match with the boys of Karasuno. At the end of your message, Keishin leaned into the brick of the gym and finally lit his cigarette. He took a long drag, longer than he would have normally if it wasn’t for your scintillating voicemail. Once his heart slowed, his thumbs furiously typed out a reply. K- You could have warned me, little girl. Y- And ruin the surprise? You liked it. :)

K- Time and place. Y- Is that all you have to say? :( This different timezone stuff is the worst, Keishin.

K- That’s something we can agree on. It’s just another day, right? Y- I’ll be home the day after tomorrow. Closing ceremonies run until tomorrow afternoon, but flight leaves a day after. K- Text me next time, little girl. And tell the girls to kick ass during their last exhibition match. Y- Does it make you mad that my team’s doing better than yours, Mr. Big Bad Daddy Crow? >:D

K- Just wait, little girl. You haven’t earned your wings yet. We’ll see how much fight you have in you with my hand around that pretty neck of yours and your lips wrapped around my cock.

He chuckled darkly at the thought of your ruined face, chest heaving, gasping for oxygen as he held your lips against the hilt of his cock. He knew you well enough to know that your face would be about thirty shades redder than his was listening to your siren song after reading his message. God, you were never more beautiful to him than when you were sobbing out for release, begging for him to make you his. Fewer things kept him warmer at night when his wide palm wrapped around his cock than thoughts of you with that lewd, haunting passion playing in your eyes. When you didn’t reply, he shook his blond head and snuffed out his smoldering cigarette filter against the wall. Of course you’d have your fingers stuffing your cunt; it couldn’t compare to his touch. He adjusted his headband deftly and pocketed his phone again, only glancing down at his cock, half-mast for a moment before another distraction pulled him away from his thoughts. Two days were going to feel like an eternity. At least he had your voice in his pocket.

You yawned as your girls took the court in their last match against the American team. The manager eyed you suspiciously as you blearily watched the game unfold. “Long night, Coach?” You nodded and hummed, rubbing your eyes. The boy stood a whole head taller than you, appraising your drowsy visage. “Must be hard being away from home.” “Mmmhm. It’s easy to miss home from so far away.” “I’m sure Coach Ukai feels the same way, Y/n.” “Toshi!” Your tone was scandalized in your chiding as the younger boy stifled a chuckle. “We should be focusing on the girls. How do you think they’ll do today?” He smiled, pride swelling as he watched his team warm up. “It’s been a long week.” “They’re tired, but they’ll push through. We’ve taken the W with less in the tank before.” It was your turn to feel proud of your girls. It was true– their rise to the top, for the acknowledgement that came with the invite to a tourney on the international stage was huge, even if it was just an exhibition tourney. There was something about the game that kept you grounded despite the tumultuous turns of your life. It brought you back to those long-thought forgotten memories, brought you closer to your high-school crush. Part of you was glad you took on coaching the counterpoint to the boys’ club; it brought meaning to your career to that point. “Michimiya! Remember, it’s supposed to be fun!” you called out to your team captain, Toshi nodding in agreement solemnly from the sidelines. Aihara, your ace nodded and gave a quick thumbs up before the ball went into play. Before the other team had a chance to receive the serve, your attention was pulled from the court to the vibrating phone in your tracksuit pocket. You had half a mind to silence it, leave it ignored and let it go to voicemail. Your attention should have been on your team, your girls, but… You pulled the phone from your pocket and bit your lip at the sight of his name reading across the screen. You excused yourself from the sidelines and made your way to the hallway leading to the locker room, bringing the device to your ear. “You were gonna keep me waiting, little girl? That’s no way to earn your wings,” his voice rasped out between hurried pants. “Oh, fuck…” Heat crept up your neck from your neat, white tracksuit jacket. Suddenly, everything was too hot. You worried your lip between your teeth and fought back a whimper as Keishin growled in your ear. You did some quick maths in your dazed state and gasped into your phone. “You should be asleep, Keishin! It’s nearly two in the morning…” “Couldn’t sleep, not when I had to get you back, naughty little girl. Did it feel good cumming on those fingers without me? Did it satisfy you knowing you were cumming without my permission? Was it worth it?” “I…” “Answer me, little girl,” he continued to groan, the sound of skin gliding across skin caressing your eardrums between his moans. You could practically feel his smug expression over the phone. The sinful breath on your ear had you wishing you could be there to watch, to touch him and run your fingers through his hair as he worked his cock in that large hand he loved to wrap around your blushing throat. “I’m waiting,” he teased. “It can’t compare,” you whispered, striding with hurried steps into the locker room. His voice frayed at the edges and had you practically dripping down your thighs under your track pants. The power his voice had over your body was undeniable. “I couldn’t help myself. I…” “Aw, poor little bird. At least you’re honest.” You tried to swallow around the lump in your throat at the nickname, but struggled. Mouth dry and thighs coated in your slick, you struggled to find your way back to reason, to the here and now. Half a world away, you sunk to the locker room bench and let out a shuddering sigh at the sound of the other coach’s debauched moans. He was close, that much you could tell. How long had he been stroking that thick cock? Was he imagining your lips cradling his glans, your saliva dripping down his balls? Could he see you dragging his head along your lips and your eyes peering up at him through a fringe of dark lashes? How many times did he listen to your voicemail before he thought to call you and dish out a dose of your own medicine? “Tell me you want me. Tell me you need me like I need you, little girl.” “I…I want you,” you whimpered, balancing your phone between your shoulder and your ear. You fumbled with your track pants and slid them hastily to your knees, your practiced fingers rubbing yourself through your soaked cotton panties. “Oh, Keishin, I need you.” You bit back a soft moan, still tender from your activities from the night prior. “That’s it, little bird. Don’t stifle yourself. Let me hear you. Where did that gorgeous voice go?” “I…Keishin, I’m at the tournament,” you gasped, that sensitive nub twitching with arousal under your busy fingertips. He let out a surprised grunt and you swore you could feel him double over on himself. “Fuck…fuck, Y/n, I never took you to be such an exhibitionist. My little bird’s getting brave on me, huh?” The sound of the door to the locker room opening made you freeze for a second before shuffling your pants back up your thighs. “Coach? Coach, are you okay? The other team’s called a time-out. Did you want to do a swap?” Toshi’s earnest voice echoed in the otherwise empty room as you struggled to get the words out without sounding like you were another second away from moaning like a porn star for the man on the other side of your call. “Answer him, little bird. Don’t stop touching that clit for me. Let’s see you earn those wings…” “Ah…yeah, have Watabe swap in. I…I need a minute. Must have been something I ate this morning.” Keishin grinned on the other end, still stroking himself languidly as he listened to you lie through your teeth to your team manager. When you heard him retreat back into the gym, you let out a shuddering sigh, your legs trembling around your hand. “Such a good little bird. I’m close. You gonna come with me?” You nodded as if he could see you, still focused on the sounds coming from your phone. His breath hitched as he choked on his moans, movement stilling on his end of the phone call. You gasped in tandem, fingertips slipping inside your waiting heat. He must have known you were close based on your breathing alone. He let you continue until he howled out his release, leaving you breathless at how completely beautiful he could sound coming undone at the thought of you. “Please, please, Keishin,” you huffed out, sweat trickled down your neck as you ground yourself into your fingers, stretching against your slick, velveteen walls. “Stop.” “But-” “I said stop, Y/n.” “But…but Keishin…” “Naughty little girls don’t get to cum when they’re bad. Mm, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good luck, Y/n,” he teased again before hanging up. You sat in silence, frustrated and slick with your own fluids. Aggravated, you pulled your pants up the rest of the way and stripped off your jacket. Approaching the sink, you patted cool water against your burning skin and stared yourself down in the mirror. So it was another challenge he wanted? You had him eating crow out of your beautifully manicured hands before and you could do it again. Your team wouldn’t be the only ones getting a win. A plan came together, neatly, quickly despite the lingering haze of lust. Spite and frustration cut through your need like a white hot razor, and all you could fixate on was the thrill of victory both on and off the court. “Setters aren’t the only big brains on the court,” you mused to yourself as you reappeared on the court, hands buried deeply into your pockets. Toshi cast a sidelong glance in your direction, subtly taking in the hard set of your jaw and the color rising in your cheeks as you stared down the opposing team’s coach from across the gym. You grit your teeth, eyes dark with determination. If he wasn’t mistaken, he almost thought you were taking this game more seriously than just a simple exhibition match. Regardless of the reason, the team manager found himself grateful he wasn’t the object of your ire. “Hit it ‘til it breaks, Sasaki!!” Your yell rattled the team manager as it echoed through the gym over the roar of the crowd. The puddle in your panties only fueled your frustration the longer you dwelled on Keishin’s denial. You wanted to breathe smoke, to destroy something beautiful just to prove you could. “Stupid, big-brain setter,” you growled under your breath as your team took another point from the Americans. “Coach, why do I get the feeling you aren’t talking about the other team?” “C’mon, girls, you’re better conditioned than that!! Go for the kill!!” “Yeah, you’re definitely not talking about the other team.” The conference couldn’t be done soon enough, and the next two days were going to feel like the longest of their lives. ~ Few things in life brought Keishin Ukai more solace than quiet mornings over a cup of coffee. The only thing that could have made it better was your groggy face smiling sleepily across the table at him. Sunlight bled through the kitchen blinds, staining everything in garish gold and yellow in the pale light. Hair loose, he carded his long fingers through his bedhead with casual grace and absently scrolled through his phone as the coffee continued to brew. It would be just a few hours before you would be home; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited for your return. In the safety of his home, he could let some of that boyish glee bleed out as he searched through your old photos. As if he could forget your face, the sway of those devastating hips, or the way you’d catch your lower lip between your teeth when you were flustered. As much as he owned you, the power you held over him and his emotions was undeniable. From the moment you stepped foot on his court he was your willing captive. He set his phone aside to pour himself his first of what would be many cups of coffee. He allowed himself a moment to bask in the heady aroma, dark and bitter before it hit his tongue. Relaxing in his seat a little more, he sighed through his nose. The chiming of a text alert pulled him from his brief reprieve. Y- Good morning, Daddy Crow :D! We’ll be home in a few hours. I can’t wait to see you. Keishin chuckled into his steaming mug and took a long sip. Wryly amused and even a little annoyed by your pet name for him, he typed out his reply unhurried. K- We’ll see how tired you are when you get back. Ten hours and change is a long time to spend in the air.

Y- Don’t remind me. No idea what I’m going to do to stay occupied.

K- I can think of a few distractions.

He waited, watching the ellipsis flicker over the text banner for your reply, his heart rate picking up in anticipation. What fresh hell awaited him when you finally hit send? Vaguely he had an idea of how badly you wanted to get back at him for leaving you hanging during his last call, but you were too sweet, far too forgiving to want revenge. Y- I’m sure you can. What do you have lined up for today?

K- Not a thing. Just waiting on you. It wasn’t like you to not take his bait; he could practically feel the ice from your reply. Was it the distance? You were only gone for a week, but was it enough time for your relationship to cool? “Shit,” he muttered, rolling a cigarette between his fingers as he reread your reply another six times. “Guess she is mad…” He mused and fussed over your text before lighting the paper tip and taking a careless drag. The blue-gray haze hung around his kitchen like a comforting veil. He waited another moment before he saw you typing another response. He tore his gaze away from the device to ash his cigarette in an empty beer bottle he had sitting on the kitchen table; when he returned to it, the sight that met him had him melting in his chair. Your delicate frame was seated on a sea of white, the barest hint of emerald lace curling in elegant patterns along the swell of your ass. Hair pulled to one side in effortless waves of jet, your bare back was on full display, tantalizing him with the gentle curve of your spine and adorable dimples framing your tailbone. Your face in profile, he could see the faint rose dusting your cheeks and nose, the dreamy sparkle playing in your eyes as you held your breasts away from view. He knew that far-away gaze all too well– it played behind your eyes when you would look at him, when you would think about his strong hands exploring your body. His eyes lingered on the definition of your thighs, all the while longing he could feel them squeezing his head as you trembled into his waiting mouth. It wasn’t the lewdest photo he’d ever seen, but it hit differently when it was you. His mouth went dry and he felt himself get lost in every detail, as if he could memorize every scar, every freckle if he stared long enough. Y- Enjoy your distraction, Keishin.

When did you find the time to take photos? Was that the only one? Questions raced through his mind as he lingered on the picture, fingertip tracing along the swell of your hips. God, he was such a sucker for those wide hips and built thighs. He might have admired your drive and ability to keep up and run drills with your team, but he really wanted to see just how far he could push you until you broke.

“It’s just ten more hours. I can hold out for ten hours.” ~ Six months together and it took a week apart for him to salivate over the smell of your perfume. All the distance, despite the frequent calls and text messages, only intensified his undeniable thirst. You were his meet-cute, the high school crush who got away. There would always be that part of him that wondered how he got so lucky crossing your path not once but twice in his lifetime. If he were a betting man, he’d probably put more stock in fate or soulmates after meeting you, but it wasn’t his style to be so sentimental. Travel always took a lot out of you. Keishin caught you yawning on your way from the baggage claim, only aware enough to know where to step without tripping. Grinning like a fiend, he took his moment and pulled you into an empty lounge. Startled, you swung your first and jerked out of his hold, only stopping your thrashing when you caught the bemused twenty-something rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Fucking hell, is that anyway to say hello, little girl?” “Oh my god, Keishin!” Your hands flew to his face and he could have died a happy man on the spot. “I’m so sorry! You can’t just do that!” Your chest tightened at the rumbling chuckle that reverberated under your fingertips. “Keishin,” you sighed, holding his stubbled face in your thin hands. Studying the sharp planes of his face, your eyes practically sparkled with delight. He was here, real under your palms flashing that same cocksure grin that had you flustered since you first stepped up to challenge him on the court. “You gonna keep staring at me or what, little bird? C’mon, let’s ge-!” Rising to your toes, you pulled him to your lips and left him struggling to catch his breath, your perfume lingering after you withdrew and bounced away, tugging him along from the airport lobby. Head swimming, he followed, allowing you to lead him around until you remembered who drove and the simple fact that you had no idea where the car was. It was easy to forget you were an accomplished adult when you let your excitement take the wheel, but it brought Keishin closer to what might have been before you disappeared when you were still children. He never got the chance to watch you play back then, a regret he tucked away with the first night you murmured his name in your sleep. His single-minded ambition kept him from really seizing the chance to get to know you as a person instead of an idea back then. Packed away in his well-loved sedan, you couldn’t help but fidget in the passenger seat, anxiously bouncing your foot below the dash. Unfazed, he reached over and placed a hand on your knee, halting the bouncing movement with a stern glance. Color bloomed in your cheeks at the gesture, body relaxing just enough under the warmth of his palm. Braver still, he slowly ran his fingertips along the line of your thigh, stopping just below the clothed apex of your leg. Keishin never took his eyes off the road, but he knew just where to brush to make your blood sing. He followed your movements, subtly tracking your reactions to his innocent caressing.

“Don’t get shy on me now, little bird.”

The bait was set, almost painfully obvious as you continued to squirm into his waiting palm. “I’m not shy. I’m..”

“You’re what? Use your words,” he smirked, dragging his knuckles against your sex. The motion was so casual you might have applauded him for his audacity if it hadn’t been a week since you felt him touch you. Muddled between your jet lag and the growing haze of lust ensnaring your senses, you fumbled over your words and whimpered something about thinking about how much you missed him. “That’s what I thought.” Whether it was the nonchalance or the gentle pressure he exerted on your core, you felt yourself slip closer into that familiar euphoric headspace. It was almost embarrassing how wrapped around his finger he had you; it wouldn’t be long before he’d have you wrapped around him literally as well.

You wanted to scream, to gnash your teeth and beat something to a bloody pulp. At least you could take out your frustrations on the court. The girls took the day to strength train in the school’s weight room, leaving you to your own devices in the second gym. You could see his almost-apologetic face, the slight upturn of his lips when he sent you to work with a chaste peck on your hair.

“I just couldn’t bear to wake you…”

“Tch, likely story. Stupid, big-brain setter!” You hissed through your teeth and imagined it was his disembodied head you were spiking over the net with a satisfying crack. Your attentive team manager threw another ball and watched as you continued to fume.

“Are you trying to pop a ball, sensei?"

"Less talk, more throw, Toshi.” He shook his head and tossed another ball, only for you to bounce it off the floor twice to center yourself before your inevitable spike. Unsatisfied, you shook your ponytail and jogged to the opposite end of the gym to practice your jump serve. Toshi watched on, hanging his head as you sent another ball flying in his direction. “Jesus Christ, Himewari!” he screeched, ducking out of the way. You huffed in irritation, barely registering the clattering of gym doors opening. The ball rested daintily in your hand, your eyes narrowed with the smooth rubber leaving your palm before the inevitable punch. Keishin knew better than to leave the safety of the annex when you were serving, but he could watch you soar forever. Leaned against the cool wall, his headband gently digging into his scalp with his blond head resting into the drywall, he couldn’t help the crinkle of his eyes when your hand finally connected with the abused ball. Sweat glistened like diamond dust on your skin, the crop top you wore doing nothing to temper his wandering gaze. As you hung in the air, he hummed to himself, remembering Shimizu’s words when he first saw you serve. “You really do have wings, little bird…” When you landed and reached for another ball he made his presence known, his footsteps falling faintly over your light panting. This was how he liked you best, dark hair mussed and sweat dripping down the valley of your breasts. It was almost a shame, he thought to himself, that he wasn’t the one making you such a mess. He stopped just a few feet behind you only to catch the tail end of your cursing his name for leaving you high and dry on your return. As if sensing the change in the atmosphere, like catching the faint scent of ozone on the wind before a squall, Toshi took his leave and escaped into the weight room, leaving you alone with the other coach. Caught mid-approach, Keishin wrapped his arms around your smaller frame and buried his nose into your ponytail. You froze at the sudden intrusion of your personal space and the ball fell from your waiting palm, its fall echoing through the empty gym. “Thought I’d find you here,” he purred. Hackles raised, you pushed away from him and made a dash for your club jacket. Keishin used his height and longer legs to his advantage and followed close behind. If it was a chase you wanted, he’d give it to you. He let you sprint to the locker room, hand resting on the handle before he turned you by the shoulders and caged you against the wall between his arms. Looming over you, he smirked and licked his lips at the deepening flush creeping down your neck and across your collarbones. He smelled like tobacco and neroli, his cologne making your head spin. The smoke lingering on his breath had your thoughts racing– you were in high school again, fantasizing about being trapped in those arms with those sharp eyes drinking your timid expression so patiently. “What’s the matter, little girl?” he started smugly. His pupils dilated, leaning his head in to bear down on you further. “Can’t rise to the challenge? Where’d all that fight go?” Keishin licked his teeth and breathed into your ear. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you,” he teased, running his nose along your hairline. Your breath hitched; how did he always know how to make you feel so small? The thought incited more anger, more fuel to the fire burning in your belly as you jerked your ear away from his hot breath. “No, you don’t get to do that. I’m not going to let you win that easily, Keishin.” Your voice was low, almost dangerous. The animosity was one-sided, and the other coach snickered at your new-found boldness. “I don’t think you get it, little bird,” he growled, wrapping a firm hand around your thin neck. “I’ve already won.” Swallowing hard, you worried your lower lip between your teeth, his favorite tell, and stared him in the eye. The predatory gleam made you weak in the knees– he knew it. He could feel you falter under his capable palm as he gave your neck a gentle squeeze. Keishin loved seeing you like this– wrestling between reason and your desires, pinned beneath him with that fire burning behind your eyes as if to remind him that you only permitted his control because you knew how completely yours he really was. The nip of his teeth on your earlobe sent you reeling, swooning into his stubbled cheek. “Please,” you whispered. “Not here.” “No? You sure?” As if to capitalize on your wavering resolve, he raised a knee to rest just between your thighs, a silent dare to test him and see just how far he’d make you go. Instinctively, you ground your pelvis against his knee and shuddered at the delicious pressure on your core. He grinned against your cheek. “Because I think this is exactly where you want it.” Hips rocking, your anger slowly melted away as he continued to tease you, still pinning you to the door by the throat. “I think you like the idea of almost getting caught, little bird.” Your whimpers doused kerosine on the slow burning embers he stoked with his teasing. “Keishin,” you gasped, his free hand trailing down your sticky body to pull your hip hard into his waiting erection, grip hard enough you were sure you’d have bruises by the time he was done. “We don’t-” “Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you then.” Your thighs squeezed around his knee, cunt fluttering at the thought of your combined spend trickling down your thighs on the walk home. His grin was sinful, eyes sharp and hungry as you melted into his knee. He could feel your slick soaking through your shorts, the sensation earning a groan you just barely made out. “Mark you as my little crow inside and out,” he purred, long fingers feathering along the waistband of your shorts. “Yeah, I think you like that idea.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” You caught his gaze through your dark lashes, leaning into his hand and waiting hips as if to lay your own bait. Your own hands caught in his hair and pulled his headband down. How you loved running your fingers through those blond waves; you rolled your hips and gave his hair an experimental tug, earning a low groan in return. He surged forward and captured your lips, a fight for dominance to the end. Tongue tracing hungrily along the curl of your lips, he softened his hold on your neck and pulled you closer. Hand on your nape, he let out a hiss when you bit him, a flash of blood lingering on your lip in return with a satisfied grin. “Oh, cocky now?” Keishin gave your shorts a shove over your generous hips. Anxiety and excitement bubbled in your chest as you squirmed against him. He was still hard muscle and sinew despite years away from the court, more than enough to handle you at your worst. “Let’s see you be cocky now, little bird.” His fingers glided along your sopping cunt, earning a sharp moan at the sudden brush along your neglected clit. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Fuck,” he breathed, too enraptured by your responsive body. “Keishin, please,” you whimpered, clutching his shoulders as his deft fingers continued to tap and rub slow, agonizing circles around your glistening clit. “Please, please fill me…” “How quickly your resolve falls apart, my little crow,” he purred into your hair, fingers now sliding into your drooling pussy. You bit back another moan, head arching back into the door as Keishin scissored his fingers against your already fluttering walls. “You’re fucking drenched.” “Please, please…I need you. I need to feel you, Keishin.” Legs trembling, you rocked into his hand, keening at the pressure his hardened fingertips exerted on your g-spot. Even accidentally, he had a way of luring out the most beautifully debauched moans from you. He continued to work you open, trying to make up for a week without laying claim to you in the span of minutes. Keishin growled low, feeling himself get lost in your whining, in the warm squeeze of your welcoming cunt around his fingers, in how completely devoted he was to hearing you moan his name like that one more time. You heard the zip after you felt the lonesome ache of loss, only to be filled again to the hilt with a gasping cry. Keishin grit his teeth and leaned into your writhing frame, bracing himself against the door as you squeezed his cock from head to hilt like a velvet vice. “W-wrap your leg around my hip,” he ordered shakily, peering at you through a curtain of soft gold. You did as instructed and felt him wrap his arm around your back, pulling you closer as he rocked into your heat with a moan of his own. “So fucking tight, Y/n…” Stars faded throughout your vision and left you feeling dazed. “So good,” he moaned, resting his forehead against yours to glance down where your bodies connected. You balanced on your toes, meeting his thrusts with your own. “Keishin,” you cried in return, arching your back off the locker room door as your first climax claimed you. Keishin grit his teeth and fucked you through the first of many, angling his hips to drive his cock deeper still, earning a harsh shriek. “Keishin, don’t stop!” “Wasn’t planning on it,” he groaned, bottoming out with a stutter. “It’s like you were made for me.” You let out another cry, clinging to the coach as tears pricked your eyes. He rutted against your cervix with a pained grin, knowing the longer he pressured against that button the sooner you’d be begging to be filled and defiled. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he sighed, slowing as your walls clenched around his cock with the advent of another orgasm. You trembled helplessly against him, body practically weightless in his arms as he continued to prolong your pleasure if only to draw out his own. When you came down, you brushed your nose along his and gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. Toes curling in your trainers at the devastating sight in front of you, you gave another keening cry and buried your face into his shoulder. “Y’know, for someone so worried about being caught you sure are loud.” He grinned into your hair and hammered his hips into yours, earning another loud wail in protest and in pleasure. Your nails caught the tanned skin of his back, a vicious trail of red left in their wake as he brought you to another peak. “That’s three…” You bucked against him, fitfully chasing again after that same high only his cock could bring you. His name a prayer on your lips, he allowed you to take because you gave him so much in return. Every moan, every gush of your juices around his cock he took and devoured, knowing you wouldn’t be afraid to earn his end in return. “I can feel you twitching, Keishin. You’re close, Daddy Crow.” His hips stuttered as you whispered the pet name into his ear, holding you tightly as he bottomed out in your spasming cunt. “Hard not to when you’re fucking milking me.” He’d never admit it, but he would stay buried inside you forever if you’d let him. Only the unsynchronized whisper of your breathing and the slick slap of skin on skin surrounded the two of you in the empty gym. Entangled with the other coach in the darkened hallway, you found his lips to muffle another moan when your attention was pulled away from your bliss by the slamming of the gym doors.

"Coach Himewari! We’re getting ready to go!” It was Michimiya your team captain. Her footfalls echoed softly, rubber tapping against the laminated wood. She paused for a moment when you didn’t answer. Keishin grinning sadistically against your lips, he held your hips flush against his, grinding his cock into that spot that frayed the edges of your vision and made your quiver around his girth. “Hm, I guess she already left…” the team captain mused before shuffling closer to the locker room door, only to quickly turn away at the opening of the door.

“Come on, Yui! Let’s just go! Toshi can catch us up later.” Grateful for Aihara pulling her friend’s focus, you bit down on your lip to keep quiet. Keishin redoubled his efforts, dragging his teeth along the hollow of your neck. Even muffled your moans were music to his degenerate ears. You stiffened against him with the sinking of his teeth into your neck, a stifled cry and final squeeze signaling your end. Keishin wasn’t too far behind, growling into your salt-slicked skin. The heavy doors clattered shut as he moaned out his release, the heat building in your core as he spasmed into your waiting womb.

“Fuck me, Keishin…” you breathed, half chuckling half panting. He held against you, comfortable in your combined heat as he peppered soothing kisses along your neck and into your hairline. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you like almost getting caught.”

He hissed, slowly withdrawing from your core and watched as his cum slowly started trickling from your pulsating hole down your sturdy thighs. He tucked himself back into his jeans and watched you languish against the wall for a moment, playful grin lighting his face. Deftly he collected the escaping seed and shoved it back into your abused cunt, earning a pained whimper before he pulled your panties and shorts back up to keep the rest from spilling. “Don’t waste it, little crow.” He wiggled his fingers along your lips and you greedily sucked them clean with wide, innocent eyes. Your combined taste coated your tongue, sweet and bitter all at once. “That’s my good girl,” he crooned, planting a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.

Your anger evaporated, you slumped against him, head resting comfortably into his chest. “I’m ready for a nap, daddy crow…” you whined. Blond hair slicked with swear, he carded those long fingers through and hoisted you up onto his shoulder, carrying you out of the gym with your mess ruining your panties and shorts.

“Oh no you don’t. As soon as we get home you’re making up for every voicemail and tantrum, Y/n.” It was going to be a long night.

#keishin ukai x reader #haikyuu hq #keishin ukai smut #tw: phonesex #tw: phone sex #tw: public sex #tw: publicsex #big daddy crow's getting some lovin'

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marvelsdc22 · 3 years

Text

Hate You

Intro: Not gonna lie, this is more than likely shit... I'm trying to get back into writing, but I hope you guys can enjoy it at least somewhat.

Note: Songfic, cheating, etc. Based off this song.

Word Count: 1,330

It had been a week since you had discovered Wanda’s cheating...

A week since you had found her in bed with another…

A week since you had last considered her the one that you were forever going to be with...

The ring had been heavy in your pocket that night you had walked into your shared apartment, you had planned to take her to a nice restaurant that had just opened up that weekend, you had everything planned, the dinner, the proposal, how the rest of the night would go; that all shattered the moment you had opened the bedroom door and saw her with her fellow Avenger, Vision, in your bed.

This will be the last song

I ever write about you

Guess it's the only way left to communicate

You never listened to my music anyway

She had tried to chase you down, apologizing frantically, saying it was just a one time thing and that it had meant nothing, that she couldn’t lose you…

She should’ve thought that through before she went and done what she did, huh?

Looking back you should’ve honestly seen it coming, the late nights at the Compound when you knew she didn’t have a mission or anything, the fact that some weekends she would be gone, claiming that something was happening, only for Natasha to tell you otherwise, you were blinded by your love for her that you couldn’t see the truth.

Look at me now

Such a pitiful place

You found someone

I thought that'd help erase

These crazy thoughts that we were never broken

You can't see red flags with rose colored glasses

It took you months to start to move on from her, months of convincing yourself that you were better off without her, that you really didn’t need her in your life no matter how much your heart told you otherwise, you had a lot of help from your other friends at the Compound, even though you weren’t an Avenger, they thought of you as one of them.

Natasha took you out to get you out of the stuffy apartment you had holed yourself up in when you weren’t at work, Bucky brought you dinner every night to make sure you had something in your system, Steve made sure to come by every few days to make sure you were up and about, even going as far as helping you brush your hair or shower and change, Tony made sure to send you a daily meme in hopes that he would get you to laugh, Thor would stop by with ice cream and beer every friday night to help cheer you up, and Peter would stop by after school to make sure you were holding up okay, your apartment being on his way home.

Clint and Bruce were indifferent with it, while Clint wanted to help you through this process, he also cared about Wanda who was honestly struggling as well to cope, he would make sure to send Natasha with some little gag gifts to make sure you knew he was thinking of you, while Bruce just didn’t know how to act in these situations, him occasionally checking in on you through text but nothing more, but you couldn’t fault the big guy since you knew he was trying.

I hate that I miss you

I hate that I'm lost

I hate those dead flowers you taped to your wall

I hate that you're okay and I can't move on

I hate that somehow this is all my fault

I hate that I'm wide awake watching the door

I hate these long showers sitting on the floor

I hate in the end it was me who was wrong

I hate that I don't really hate you at all

Every night was a new challenge for you, Natasha had helped you start to slowly take down things that Wanda had left or that just gave you memories of her, storing them in a box you hide in your closet, you couldn’t help but miss her even though you knew that this wasn’t affecting her as badly, Natasha had told you that the first few weeks were rough, but she had moved on with Vision not long after.

You wanted to hate her, you really did…

It would make this all easier, make it easier to move on…

But you just couldn’t…

No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t bring yourself to hate Wanda, you still loved her, no matter how much you hated that fact.

You would wait in bed for hours, wishing, willing that she would come in through the door and everything would be back to normal, but you knew that was all wishful thinking, you knew she’d never come back to you, why would she when she had Vision and you had nothing?

I killed you in my head now

If I see you out with friends

I'll just tell me self that it's a phantom or illusion

Guess I haven't chosen which

You occasionally see her with Clint and Vision and occasionally Natasha when they go out for their weekly grocery shopping trip, you do your best to ignore her, will that she isn’t there, that she’s just a person passing by you, but you can’t bring yourself to not turn and look at her, even for a moment, no matter how much looking at her hurts you, you like the pain...

Look at me now

Such a pitiful place

You found someone

I thought that'd help erase

These crazy thoughts that we were never broken

You can't see red flags with rose colored glasses

Once you were able to move on, you started separating yourself from the Avengers, you still hung out with them from time to time, but you now mostly hung out with your friends that you had made at work after the breakup, Natasha was still a prominent part of your life, her having never allowed you to pull away from her that easily, knowing you were doing it to try to make moving on easier, but she couldn’t let you do that.

She became one of your closest friends and helped you ease the pain of losing Wanda, everyday you moved on just a little more and found yourself happier as time went on, until you were the happiest you had been in a long time.

I hate that I miss you

I hate that I'm lost

I hate those dead flowers you taped to your wall

I hate that you're okay and I can't move on

I hate that somehow this is all my fault

I hate that I'm wide awake watching the door

I hate these long showers sitting on the floor

I hate in the end it was me who was wrong

I hate that I don't really hate you at all

But I kind of wish I did

I don't really hate you at all

You could never bring yourself to hate Wanda, no matter how much you wanted to, she opened new things for you, gained you more friends, but you hated that you couldn’t hate her, maybe if you hated her then you wouldn’t feel the guilt you felt for her cheating on you, it was your fault for not giving her what she needed, wasn’t it?

Natasha though, she wouldn’t let you bear the guilt alone, telling you that none of this was your fault, that Wanda was the one at fault and while you wanted to believe her, you couldn’t really bring yourself to “I’ll tell you everyday how it wasn’t your fault if I have to” she had told you, you couldn’t help but love her for it, she was the light at the end of the tunnel, you knew that even though you couldn’t bring yourself to hate Wanda, that you could bring yourself to love Natasha, the way that you could never bring yourself to love Wanda...

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x gn!reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #marvel x reader #marvel

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Pairing: doctor!Jungkook x reader (ok, technically clinical technician!Jungkook lol)

Wordcount: 1.6k

Genre/Rating: Fluff! strangers to friends to a lil’ more 👀👀

Tags/Warnings: mentions blood just for a moment (when talking about JK’s work). shouldn’t be anything too crazy, Jungkook is just your annoying new neighbor that sings abnoxiously loud in the shower. oh, and did I mention that the two of you share a wall?

a/n: You wonderful, beautiful people! This post is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click here to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! And THANK YOU @ezralia-writes for commissioning this! *insert round of applause and flowers* I hope you enjoy!

April 23rd

You should’ve known it was too good to be true.

You’d been living in utter bliss for the past six months, having moved across the city to a relatively quiet part of town. You had a neighbor; you were sure of it. Had seen their car in the parking lot too many times to not have one.

It’s just, you never heard them. Let alone saw them.

Which was completely fine. The loud, obnoxious lifestyle people usually adopted in a city as bustling as Seoul had never suited you anyway. For six months, you basked in the glorious silence from your next door neighbor. The only signal that you ever got that they were even there was the occasional time you’d both be showering at the same time. Your bathrooms shared a wall, which you tried to ignore. Thankfully, your neighbor seemed to ignore it as well.

So why is there a man suddenly belting out I Will Always Love You as though performing a one-man tribute to Whitney Houston?

The sound of his booming voice nearly knocked you off your feet as you made quick work of shaving your legs. Surely he must have heard your shower running! Can’t a woman get some peace and quiet on a Friday morning?! There’s nothing to celebrate yet!

You even make a point of clearing your throat loud enough to be heard on the other side of the wall, but he doesn’t falter in his loud, albeit dazzling, rendition of the song. He pauses for a second, giving you just enough time to let out a sigh of relief and begin on your other leg.

Leg soapy and ready to be shaved, you make it halfway through one swipe before the singing starts up again.

He only paused to switch songs. Whitney Houston tribute over, he begins a passionate ode to Adele’s greatest hits.

“What did I do to deserve this?” You sigh, resolving to finish up before the song is over and you’re subjected to another.

May 1st

It begins innocently enough. After a week of subjecting you to his siren-like voice, there’s a knock on your door. Of course, you assume it’s the food you’d ordered, so you just finish throwing your sweatshirt on before wrenching the door open.

“Hey,” you look up to tell the deliverer that you just need to grab your wallet, but your mouth runs dry at the sight before you.

Grinning with a friendly smile that might be a bit of overkill, a boy – nah, a whole man if we’re being honest here – gives you a sheepish wave. His long brown hair is falling into his eyes, which he meticulously brushes off to the side.

“Hey! You must be my neighbor!” When you keep staring at him with what you hope is a look of neutrality, he flushes a deep red. “I- er, I mean, obviously. That was kind of dumb of me…”

“You’re not the food guy?” It’s the only you can think to say, willing your eyes to focus in on his face and not the way his sweatshirt and sweats look on him. “Uh…I mean, yeah. Neighbors.”

The man before you lets out an adorable chuckle at your silly comment. “Oh, good. I’m not the only awkward one here.”

“Woah! I’m not awkward! I’m just hungry!” You cry out, making him only laugh harder.

“I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he says, nose crinkling as you look at him with wide eyes. So this is what was on the other side of the wall, belting out Mariah Carey this morning. “I just moved in last week, and realized that I haven’t even come over to say hello. You know, like a friendly neighbor should.”

“Hey, Jungkook.” You look around, wondering if there’s anyone else outside witnessing this incredibly awkward first meeting. “I, uh, well…I’m me.”

He snorts. “Yeah, I know. I’m assuming your name is the one on the mailbox? Next to mine?”

We have mailboxes??

“Oh, ha! Yeah, that’d be it.” You shuffle back and forth on your feet, unsure of what to say next. “Well, I thought you were the delivery service-“

“I just delivered food, too!” Jungkook says with a grin. He runs his hands up and down his arms even though it’s not cold outside. “I was thinking that…you know, we could eat together? I actually ended up ordering extra, but it looks like that wasn’t necessary.”

You grin, settling against your doorframe. “Ah, so you’re here to woo me with takeout? You should’ve just said so.”

It looks like Jungkook’s considering moving again. He swallows thickly, eyes flitting over to you before staring down at your floor. “Actually…I heard you watching TV…were you watching Wanda Vision?” When you nod, he sucks in a breath. “It’s just, I haven’t bought a TV yet, and-“

“Oh, tough luck. Good luck with that.” You burst out into a fit of giggles at the tentative look in his eyes. Silently forgiving him for all those mornings that doubled as musicals over the past week, you wing the door open a little wider and gesture for him to come inside. “Come in, I need someone to bounce theories off anyways.”

That’s all it takes before Jungkook is bounding inside, settling down on your couch with an air of comfortability that seems so at odds with his shy nature. Then again, everything about him seems to contradict his shy smile.

You like it.

June 2nd

What originally started as a simple friendship; Jungkook brought food and you let him have the remote; quickly turned into constant interaction. You learned that he had a roommate that was hardly ever home named Taehyung. He has a brother that he visits every other month. He works as clinical technician, but he’s known more for his beautiful voice more than his title as doctor.

Apparently he was known in the lab for singing little lullabies to the glass flasks containing different samples of blood and other fluids, even occasionally chatting with them as though they were avidly listening.

The more you learned, the more you really wished your old neighbor never moved out in the first place. Especially as you slipped on some shoes to take out the trash one night only to run face first into a familiar chest.

“Jungkook,” you groan, rubbing your nose and peeking up at the boy-like grin he wears. “What was that for?“

You step around him, closing the door to your apartment and heading down the stairs to where the dumpsters were located. “My bad. I was just about to knock.”

He matches your stride, hair whipping about in the wind. You realize that he’s wearing his lab coat, making you furrow your brows. “Aren’t you supposed to leave that at the lab?” You ask, pointing to the white coat.

Jungkook pouts, looking down at his coat as though just remembering that he was still wearing it. “Oh, well I have to wash it, you know. I brought it home with me today.”

“Ok…but why are you still wearing it?” You give him a half-smile as he reaches to open the lid to the dumpster, allow you to throw your trash inside.

Jungkook blinks, as though this latest question completely threw him for a loop. “Uh…I thought it might help.”

“With what?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You think doctors are sexy, don’t you?”

“What?!” You choke out quite literally, beginning to cough. “Who- I never said that!”

Jungkook grins maliciously. “Yeah, but I heard you watching Grey’s Anatomy the other day. And it was on your recently watched.”

You begin to walk away, waving him off. “That doesn’t mean anything, Jungkook. So what? It’s just a show.”

Running ahead of you, Jungkook bounds up the first few steps before turning around to face you again, effectively cutting off your escape route. “Be honest. You don’t find them the least bit sexy? This coat does nothing for you?” He runs his hands down the lapels for emphasis.

You attempt to push past him. “What is even happening today?” Jungkook stops you in your tracks, hands on your upper arms and trapping you against the railing.

“I thought I might as well give myself a chance,” he mumbles, head tilted to one side as he takes in the way you’re staring up at him with utter confusion. “Don’t you wanna go out with a doctor?”

You blink slowly. “You…you’re setting me up with a doc-“

“Yah!” Jungkook groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many way do I have to say it? I want you to be the Wanda to my Vision!” “Jungkook, we’ve talked about this…” you sigh, hiding your laugh at his impatience. “They have a toxic relationship, why would I want that?”

“Don’t make me do this!” Jungkook whines, cheeks turning pink. “Just tell me yes or no!”

“To what?” You ask, feigning ignorance. “I don’t even know what you’re asking.”

“Nooo, you do,” Jungkook presses in closer as though that’ll help you understand. “I want you and I to…to…you know, I think we’d be good together.”

You frown. “Aren’t we together right now?”

“I swear-“ Jungkook takes a step back, sighing up at the sky. You snap your fingers, having a sudden epiphany.

“Oh, you mean together like we start singing duets in the morning through the wall?”

He blinks before bursting out into a fit of laughter. “I…yeah! Exactly!”

“No. But I will let you take me out on a date.” You give him a long look. “I’ve never been kissed by a doctor before, you know.”

Jungkook turns an impressive shade of red. “O-oh. You haven’t?”

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p’. Turning to head up the stairs, you leave him in his shock. “Wonder what it’s like.”

Taking off in a run, you only get about a two second head start before Jungkook overtakes you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in close, wide eyes eating up every inch of your skin.

Tilting your chin up, he breathes out, “Well, why don’t we change that?”

masterlist

commission a request!

#jungkook x reader #doctor!jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook x y/n #bts x reader #bts oneshot #jungkook oneshot #Jeon Jungkook x reader #doctor!bts #bts neighbor au #bts as your neighbors #jungkook neighbor au #armyadvocatesaapi

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thisnoodlewritesao3 · 3 years

Text

Once Upon A Dream | Kyoutani Kentarou/Reader

Characters: Kyoutani Kentarou, Reader, Aoba Johsai Club Members

Pairing: Kyoutani Kentarou/Reader

Genre: Fluff, just happy fluffy times

Warnings: I don’t think there are any, but if you see any, tell me please!

Word Count: 2111

Summary: For almost 3 years, Kyoutani had seen glimpses of your life in his dreams. It was his favourite part of the day. So, when you move to Miyagi, he's far too excited to meet you. Only, he doesn't know your name or your what you look like. And what's a soulmate supposed to do when you go silent at school?

A/N: This has sort of been shoddily thrown together to help me get out of my weird funk lately, but I like it, so sue me. UwU. Check it out, I posted it on AO3 too (here)

---------------------

Kyoutani hated school. Not for any other reason than the fact that the people just annoyed him - much less the fact that he wasn’t particularly good at his - his grades could attest to that. Sure, he loved volleyball, and that might’ve been his favourite part of the day; except his favourite part was sleeping. That was because during the times of slumber, he could see glimpses of what happened during his soulmates day - what happened during your day.

He’d never admit to anyone how happy it made him. He’d do anything to learn everything about you.

At this point, he was sure he knew just about everything about you. Most nights you’d feign studying to your mom - you’d always end up watching far too many episodes of the latest anime that had you hooked - even so, you somehow had almost perfect grades. Every time you were in lessons, you took notes effortlessly, though he only ever saw those notes during class. When you weren’t watching anime, you were writing, listening to music far too loud; a thousand playlists that he could never wrap his head around - he was never sure how you’d managed to memorise where one song in each playlist was all because it took you too much effort just to like it. You couldn’t sing very well, that didn’t seem to stop you - he thought the same about your dancing - but something about seeing a section of that from your day always made him extra happy in the morning. You got along well with your mom, most of those clips you were laughing about something incomprehensible. You seemed to get along with a lot of people, though your closest friends were a pair of twins by the names of Anaka and Anoko. You lived in Tokyo, which hurt his heart far too much than he’d admit.

The one thing that irked him was your dislike for sports, you put in little effort to gym every time. Waking up after those clips of your day were his least favourite thing - he’d even put school before that.

Despite the fact he knew everything about you, or as much as he could, there were two things he didn’t know: your name or your face. He hated that so much. It was as if you never looked at your reflection, or took any pictures of yourself. He had a basic idea of what your hair looked like, but most of the time the strands were out of his vision.

From what he could tell, you were in the year below him; it wasn’t that that particularly mattered to him, it just meant he’d been seeing your life for a year longer than you’d been seeing his life. For the almost three years that he’d been able to see you, you’d barely had two years.

One night, a week before he’d be transitioning into his second year, he’d dreamt of you:

The world zipped by through the car window; you rested your elbow on the door hands, leaning your head into your open palm, forehead pressed against the glass. The view wasn’t one he was used to seeing, it looked more like the countryside rather than the cityscapes; a gentle wave of sadness mused inside of you.

“I know it’s going to be a lot to get used to-”

“You have no idea…” you cut off your mother, not even bothering to glance in her direction. Sadness was replaced with an eruption of aggression. You hid it, opting to clench your fist. Your jaw tightened so much that it ached.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Her voice was soft. You let out a soft sigh, nodding slowly. “I mean, you were so happy when you found out what high school he went to. Although, even the idea that you’re going to meet your soulmate won’t take away from the fact we’re leaving behind…” she paused, grip tightening on the steering wheel.

You finally tilted your head to look at her. Something swirled in the pit of your stomach and you reached out, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

There weren’t any more words needed between the two of you. It was easy.

Kyoutani woke up, running his hand through his short hair. That felt different than normal. He couldn’t explain it, not well, at least. And what had your mom said about meeting your soulmate? None of it made sense. Did you actually move to an entirely new place? Why?

It frustrated him more than it was worth.

----

Weeks passed and nothing.

Kyoutani had hoped for something, anything. There hadn’t even been a single sight of you in person. He saw you in his dreams; in class, your stare would be focused out of the window intently; you were quiet, rarely interacting with your classmates. You looked at them with such an indifference.

He loved the days when he could see you at home; you did your usual song and dance, but this time you had a small puppy at home. You’d shower it with endless affection. You didn’t seem to watch as much anime before - he even saw you studying sometimes - but the joy in his heart when he listened to you lazily sing an opening was unfiltered and so pure.

He still had yet to see your face, to hear your name.

At the start of volleyball practise, Oikawa announced that the team would be getting a manager - as long as things went well with them, that is. Most of them were confused, Kyoutani included, until Iwaizumi explained that unlike the others, and there had been so many others, this girl wasn’t interested in Oikawa in the slightest - in fact, she didn’t even know who he was. Kindaichi confirmed this, since she talked to him about this.

Out of nowhere, a girl appeared at the door, she seemed frazzled. Completely in a daze. By that point, Kyoutani had zoned out, choosing to focus on literally anything else.

He missed the looks she gave him the entire practise.

----

Sleep could not come sooner for him. He wondered what you were seeing right now, if you were even asleep; he wanted to know so badly what you thought of him, how you felt, he wanted to see your face. Just once. That was all, if he saw your face just once, he would be happy.

----

Time passed and still nothing. He hated it. He hated how close you were to him, yet how out of reach. Things didn’t change much. You were still as quiet as ever in class; you were still as loud as ever at home. He memorized each word you spoke like it was gospel, because what if you just happened to talk near him one day? How else was he supposed to recognise you if it weren’t for your voice?

He didn’t learn much about the new manager. She was quiet, too quiet. She agreed to things too quickly and acted like she would break. Because of that, everyone treated her like she was going to.

He had caught her staring at him a few times, something that pissed him off because he didn’t want her, he wanted his soulmate. Wherever she was…

If he were being honest, he’d really tried his hardest to find her. No one in particular caught his eyes. He searched every first year classroom several times a week to make sure that he had never missed anyone on any particular day, the idea that you could be somewhere else other than right there hurt him. He looked at the desk where you normally sat. Every time he went it was empty. It sucked.

Oikawa only noticed his mood get more foul as time went on - even managing to hold off on commenting about it considering how he looked like he might actually kill someone.

One night, during his dream, it felt like all the pieces finally fell together.

You stared down at the ground- were you wearing sneakers? -rubbing your thumbs together nervously. There was light conversation in the background. He couldn’t make out a lot of what was being said. Not until you stepped towards a bench, grabbing a vibrant yellow water bottle. “Thanks, L/N!” Kindaichi’s voice chimed, puffing out his chest. He was dripping with sweat.

You gave him a half smile before your eyes wandered around. This sight had become a typical one for you, watching the volleyball club running around and practising. Your eyes land on someone in particular and your heart races, although it doesn’t last long, not until he turns and meets your eyes, glaring.

Maybe you just had your hopes too high; he clearly wasn’t interested in having a soulmate. You turned your head away quickly. Giving him a side glance. “Oh Kyou…” you muttered, turning away.

Kyoutani shot up awake. Never had his body been more alert in the morning. The volleyball manager hadn’t just been some girl, but it had been you? All this time you never said a word to him about it, and he had just glared at you like you were nothing.

It made him sick. The idea that he had been hurting you.

Never had he rushed to get dressed faster. Never had he been so excited to go to school. His uniform was haphazardly tossed onto his body, he almost forgot his bag. Everything felt heightened. The wind was hitting his face harder than normal - that might’ve been because he was sprinting - the ache in his legs was nothing compared to the excitement in his heart. The closer he got to the gym, the more nervous he became.

“You’re here early…” Yahaba snickered - normally Kyoutani would have threatened the brunette, but not today. His eyes were almost frantic as he changed into his gym clothes, darting around like there was something big he was waiting for. Because there was something big he was waiting for. That was you. For you to finally appear. So that he-

“Good morning, L/N!” Kindaichi cheered towards the door of the gym, waving frantically at you. You smiled and offered him a small wave before yawning, glancing towards Kyoutani. When you met his eyes, you seemed to pause mid-yawn, tears building up in your eyes.

He walked over to you. Not really knowing what he was going to say. Not really knowing what he wanted to say. Just knowing that he needed to be next to you. To talk to you. To hear your voice again, right now, right in front of him.

When he stopped in front of you, you almost seemed scared, sucking in a deep breath and leaning back slightly. You averted your eyes, not wanting to upset him in any way. He didn’t move, not an inch. His eyes danced over you, examining every part of your face that he hadn’t been taking the time to examine. This was his first time actually seeing you.

“Beautiful…” it slipped out before he could do anything to stop it. A warmth rushed to your cheeks as you smiled awkwardly, looking away from him.

“Um… thank you… Kyou…” The look on your face could only be described as elated, even as you avoided his eyes, you knew he meant it.

All of the other members looked at you confused, trying to understand what Kyoutani had said that had made you so flustered. That was quickly washed away when he grabbed your chin, lifted your head up and smashed his lips against yours.

Your eyes shot open wide, body frozen before you seemed to collapse. His arm caught you, holding you against him with such a need that it was destroying you. When he pulled away, the gym erupted into screams.

“Took you long enough.” You muttered, gently punching his chest.

“I… I never saw your face before-”

“You see it every day?” You tilted your head.

“No. I mean… t-this…”

“Oh…” He didn’t need to explain. You knew exactly what he meant, “I don’t really like my own reflection. So I just… avoid it?” An awkward laugh slipped out.

“But you’re beautiful.” He caressed your cheek, such a softness in his eyes that you didn’t know he was capable of.

“Can someone explain what just happened?” Kindaichi yelled, eyes darting between both of you as you shared such a tender moment.

“That’s what a pair of soulmates looks like,” Oikawa mused, wrapping his arm around the first year, “well, at least she’s cute. Sucks she has such a… strange soulmate.”

Kyoutani slipped away and pounced on the setter.

You simply laughed at them.

After all this time, you’d finally met him.

--------

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ill-be-your-honey-bri · 3 years

Text

STORY PAGE | PLAYLIST | INSPO

PROLOGUE WORD COUNT: 7,764

The early afternoon heat of LA was radiating off the pavement as Harry made his way up the Azoff-Christiaansen driveway after his five-mile run. He could feel his grey tank top stick to his back and couldn’t wait to take a cool shower to rid himself of the grime and LA smog that had accumulated on his tanning skin.

Since the tour had ended, Harry had been staying as a house guest. He had made it a point to do some small chores around the house as a way to show his appreciation. On his way in the house, he had checked the mail and picked up the newspaper that was laid on the doorstep before he had keyed his way into the home. He was greeted by an overly-excited Myles, who happily wagged his tail, seeing his best friend had returned home. Harry made sure to give the pup some much deserved scratches behind the ears, before walking him to the back of the house to let Myles out to do his business.

Harry returned to the counter leading to the kitchen, where he had dropped off the mail after grabbing a glass of water. He flicked through the pile, knowing that there might not be anything for him, but organized and separated it for the homeowners when they returned from work. Towards the end of the pile, he came upon a ruby red envelope that had, not only Jeff and Glenn’s name, but also Harry’s. He had read over the font and looked to the return address, a smile began to spread on his lips.

Since it was also addressed to him, Harry decided to open it. Upon turning the envelope over to pop open the lip, Harry saw the gold wax was sealed with an embossed “D”. He ran his forefinger along the seam to expose the milky white cardstock, edged with gold flake. He had pulled out the invitation to the 40th Wedding Anniversary for Don and Elenore D’Angelo.

Harry met Don at Shangri-La Studios when he was just starting his solo career. Don just so happened to own the studio.

Don was always so warm and welcoming, as was his studio. It seemed fitting that the studio fell into the hands of Don, always in the world of music since he was a child. His father was in an Italian folk band when he was growing up in Italy; He was certain that the music world was where he needed to be. He had always known that he had wanted to be a music producer, to help musicians make music the way they want, to sound the way they desired. He had decided to move to one of the only places that made sense to make music; Los Angeles. Music in the ’70s was booming in LA and after learning the trade, Don was lucky enough to get a job at Shangri-La, which is where he had met the love of his life.

One day, when Don was working, he met Elenore, his Ellie, who had been interviewing The Band at Shangri-La. She was one of the first women to be working for Rolling Stone as a writer. She was a 70’s work of art with her Farrah Fawcett hair, high waist wide legged trousers, and a cropped tank top. She was a firecracker. She gave Don a run for his money when he had tried to get a date with her but when she finally agreed, he had always joked that “she couldn’t say no to the Italian charm”.

Harry had always loved hearing their love story whenever he was lucky enough to see them both at the studio. He has always been a hopeless romantic, so it was an honor to be invited to a monumental anniversary. Harry had walked over to the fridge and grabbed the puppy faced magnet to post the invitation on the door to remind him and his roommates of the date of the party.

September 29, 2018

Jeff had called up to Harry as he was spritzing on his Tom Ford, gently placing it on the dresser before walking to the bed to pick up his suit jacket. He pulled the simple black blazer over his shoulders, flattening out the black velvet lapels while taking a final look in the mirror. He ran his fingers through his hair, breaking up the curls he had just put product into. He had lightly jogged down the stairs, meeting Jeff and Glenn in the front hall before they collectively went to the car to make their way to the anniversary party.

The party was in full swing when they arrived. The venue was already full of people, some of which Harry had known, including the rest of the Azoff family. Harry had come to learn through Jeff that the Azoff’s and D’Angelo’s had “practically grown up together”. Irving Azoff had met Don at a party when they were both starting their careers and the rest was history.

Irving was quick to call his son and company over to him where he was sharing a drink with the man of the hour. Don was quick to give firm hugs all around, beaming and resting his hand on Harry’s shoulder.

“Long time since I have seen you! You look good!” Harry blushed at Don’s compliment, agreeing that it had been too long since they have been together. Don was just about to say how excited Ellie was going to be to see him but she was already making her way over to the group before Don even had the opportunity to warn Harry of her eagerness.

Harry had turned to his left, away from Don, when he felt a hand rest in the middle of his spine. A wide smile grew on his face as he saw Ellie start to wrap her arms around Harry’s neck, squeezing tightly and kissing his cheek thrice. She pulled away, holding his cheeks in her hands, her glowing smile lighting up the room.

“I’m so glad you could make it! It has been too long!” Harry’s hands remained on Ellie’s waist as he nodded his agreement, commenting on how he and Don had just said the same thing. “You should come over for dinner on Sunday, join the family! We would love to have you there.”

She had continued to hold his cheeks, rubbing her thumbs on his blushing cheekbones as a shy grin formed on his lips. With a quiet, “alright, I’ll be there,” he agreed to dinner. Don was chuckling as he watched his wife swoon over the boy. He mumbled her name to grab her attention and it took her a moment, but she finally looked to Don and saw one of their sons approaching. She gasped and grabbed Harry’s hand pulling her over to her eldest.

“Harry, have you met our son, Justin?” Harry had reached his hand out to shake hands with the man, who looked like a younger version of his father.

“We may have met once, I believe, at the studio?” Justin had nodded in agreement.

“Nice to see you again man,” He greeted. A woman had walked over to their group and wrapped an arm around Justin’s lower back, catching his attention. “Have you met my wife, Christine?”

Christine had smiled at Harry and shook his hand, telling him that she was a fan of his first album and how she went to both of the LA shows. At this rate, Harry felt like there was a good chance he would be blushing all night. Christine’s attention was quickly pulled away, to what Harry was told was their two children, Dylan and Matthew. Two other men were quick to walk over to the group, both kissing Ellie on the cheek and hugging Justin.

“This is our other son, Micheal, and his husband, Dean.” Both shook hands with Harry as they greeted themselves. Micheal was quick to pull Justin away with him, leaving Dean with Ellie and Harry. Ellie was looking around the room, clearly searching for someone. Harry took the opportunity to take a look around the room as well.

He watched Don walk over to them, kissing the top of Ellie’s head. “Have you seen our baby, Don? I want to introduce-”

She was cut off when the music had stopped and there was a clearing of a throat in a microphone. Everyone had turned to the stage and whoever was front and center was a vision.

She was dressed in a soft yellow sundress with light brown leather wedge heels. Her smile matched Ellie’s, who happened to be beaming back at the girl on stage.

“Hello everyone. Um, I just wanted to thank you for coming out to celebrate our parent’s love.” Oh. Harry didn’t know that the D’Angelo’s had a daughter.

“Us D’Angelo kids wanted to perform a little something for you, Mom and Dad. Seemed fitting since we are the damn Partridge Family.” The crowd had laughed as she had scoffed a laugh into the microphone. “So, Mom and Dad, if you would kindly make your way to the center of the floor…”

Don had grabbed Ellie’s hand, kissing it softly as they walked to the middle of the room. Their daughter turned to grab an acoustic guitar and nodded at Michael who was sitting behind a piano, and Justin behind the drumset. She made her way back to the microphone and the first chords to a song Harry knew very well, began to fill the room.

“Looks like we made it, look how far we’ve come, my baby. We might’ve took the long way, we knew we’d get there someday.”

Don and Ellie began to sway to the song, held close to each other, and exchanged smiles and kisses as they listened to their children perform. All eyes were on the couple but Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

She performed effortlessly, hitting every note perfectly with her warm and angelic voice. He watched her delicate fingers switch chords and strum soothingly. She was smiling down at the couple in the center of the floor as she finished the song. Without waiting for the applause, she was quick to put down the guitar to climb off the stage to hug her parents. Harry watched the interaction as well as watched as she made her way to the bar.

Harry’s feet had a mind of their own as he found himself at the bar next to the D'Angelo's daughter. She was leaning over, talking to the bartender while tapping the toe of her shoe into the floor to the beat of the music. She had turned to look and the man standing next to her, which so happened to be Harry.

“Well, hi! My mom was waiting for this moment all day.” She was breathtaking; her smile was like sunshine breaking through storm clouds. He could get lost looking into her warm eyes. They were surrounded by long, dark lashes and her long dark hair was in loose curls cascading down her back. He had to fight the urge to wrap one of the silky curls around his finger.

She continued to look at him, raising her brows as her smile grew. “I’m Bianca, by the way. Nice to meet you, Harry.”

He cleared his throat and reached his hand out for her to shake, “Nice to meet you too”. He felt her soft hand, also littered with rings of gold, just petite for her smaller hands. He turned her hand to look at the jewels, which had caused her to laugh.

“I was just about to look at yours too.” He smiled as he continued to hold her hand in his, his pointer finger of his free hand running over the jewels. He had pointed out one that he liked in particular, it sticking out more than the other simple ones.

“It was my mom’s. It was the first piece of jewelry my dad got her. I’ve been obsessed with it since I was little, always stole it, so she just gave it to me one day.” Harry smiled, knowing the feeling of stealing loved ones’ things and wanting to claim them as his own. She had also looked at his, both complementing the metals and jewels.

Her drink came to the bar and Harry had ordered a drink for himself, both sitting on stools to enjoy their drinks with each other. After ordering his drink and she began to sip on her limoncello, he knew he had to know more about her.

“You are a great performer. All of you are. I guess you weren’t wrong about the ‘Partridge Family’ comment.”

She had smiled as she was finishing her sip, “It’s not hard to be a musical family when you're surrounded by music.” Harry nodded in agreement. She was focused on her drink, running her finger around the rim of her glass.

“Ever since I was little, there was always music. Dad owns a studio, mom used to write for a music magazine, and now books about musicians. Justin is a manager for bands like fucking Metallica. Michael is a composer for movie soundtracks and used to work in orchestras for Broadway, that’s how he met Dean.” She finally looked at Harry again, tilting her head like a cute puppy, “He’s a dancer.” She smiled and suggestively raised her eyebrows, making the both of them laugh.

“And you?”

She hummed, “What about me?”

“What do you do?”

“Well, my brothers had nicknamed me Jack.” Harry had looked at her curiously, the nickname nothing like her own. She giggled at his furrowed brow and confusion written all over his face.

“Jack of all trades, master of none. I have done a little bit of everything, but as of late, I have been lucky enough to be a freelance creative director.”

“Freelance?” She was in the middle of a sip when she hummed a ‘yes’, slowly turning so she was facing him more.

“I’ve been hired for music videos, photoshoots, fashion shows. I’ve even worked with a few of your people; Harry and Harris.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up, “No shit?” He turned his head slightly and thanked the bartender for the refilled glass. She had turned away from him and pulled out her phone, pulling up her photos to show Harry some pictures of her with Lambert and Harris. She even showed him some of her work, quick to pass over sketches she had done, though he could see that she was also talented in her art.

“So you do a little bit of everything and you're good at it. I would say that you have mastered a lot of talents, Bianca.”

This was the first time tonight that he had seen her flush. It could be the limoncello, but he will keep thinking that it was his compliment. She breathed a soft ‘thank you’ as she put her phone away.

She had heard the call of her name, looking over to the dance floor where her sister-in-law had been motioning for her to join. Her two nephews ran over to grab both of her hands to drag her to dance with the rest of her family to one of the most well-known Whitney Houston songs. She threw an apologetic look over to Harry before joining her clan.

Harry watched on from the bar, seeing this alluring woman swaying with her youngest nephew while belting out lyrics with all the other bodies on the dance floor. Harry couldn’t help but yearn to know everything about the D’Angelo who has caught all of his attention.

October 4, 2018

The sky was still in a hazy pink as Harry, Kid, and Mitch walked from Harry’s car to enter Shangri-La. The air surrounding them filled with the salt of the ocean and that heavyweight of heat, moving from one air-conditioned place to the next.

The house was clean and pristine when the boys entered, Don already in the kitchen, setting up the catered breakfast and coffee maker. Don looked to the door as it opened, smiling and wishing the boys ‘good morning’ as he quickly went to wash his hands to give everyone a proper greeting. Don encouraged the boys to make themselves their plates of food and guided them to the studio for them to make themselves home.

Harry was eating some vegan bacon as he followed Don. Upon entering the studio, he saw the back of a girl in overalls and a tie-dyed t-shirt, with her dark messy hair sitting at the top of her head. She was sitting at the piano but Harry could hear no sound.

“My bambina loves to warm up the instruments before they are used to record.” Don pressed the button to allow the sweet melody to melt into the sound room.

The men could hear the melodic piano and a voice that Harry has come to love, even after one blessed encounter.

“You've taken my love, and now desert me.”

Bianca continued to do Freddie Mercury justice as her fingers toyed over the keys, vocalizing the guitar melody as she crescendoed the arrangement before softly vocalizing the final verse. Harry watched as her delicate fingers moved up the keyboard to finish off the song.

“Bellissima, bambina!”

Bianca turned to look at her father, smiling until she saw the three other gentlemen standing beside him. Two of the men continued to eat while one, Harry, was looking right at her, smiling just as big as her father.

“Uh, thanks. I’m done in here, it’s all yours.”

She was quick to stand up and pick up her tattered high-top Chucks, padding out of the room. She was sure to give her dad a kiss and avoided eye contact with everyone else. She made her way to the kitchen to put her shoes on and leave.

When Harry walked out to say hello to her and put his plate in the sink, she was already gone. Harry took the opportunity to look around the kitchen to see that there was a margarita maker. Quick to make his way into the sound room, Harry asked if it was too early for a margarita, to which the room responded with a mixture of ‘no’s’ and ‘never’s’.

More people from Harry’s and Don’s teams began to filter in, enjoying margaritas and partaking in eating some chocolate-covered mushrooms that someone happened to have brought, to help with creativity.

Bianca offered to pick up the catering for the team’s dinner and started to walk the trays into the house. Everyone had been outside, enjoying the last minutes of sun for the day, as well as the joint being passed between bodies. Harry saw her through the window, putting a few trays on the counter.

Harry decided to make his way into the kitchen, though decided to take the unorthodox route of using the window, tripping over the lip of the windowsill, landing face-first onto the kitchen floor.

“Jesus Christ, Harry! You alright?!”

She was quick to make her way over to him to help him up. He sat on the floor for a second and began to laugh. As he opened his mouth, blood started to drip down his chin.

“Fuck, Harry! You’re bleeding!”

Bianca got up quickly to get a dish towel and wet it while Harry continued to giggle on the floor, reaching his hand for his chin and it quickly filled with red. She knelt between his legs on her knees while holding his chin up so that she could wipe it with the wet towel.

“Do you mind if I look in your mouth?”

“You can do whatever you want with my mouth…”

Both froze and while Harry’s eyes went wide, Bianca raised her brows and snorted at his comment.

“Feeling good, I see? I just want to make sure you didn’t knock out any teeth.”

Harry gave a quick nod and allowed her to look into his mouth. She tsked at him as she continued to wipe his mouth.

“You bit your tongue pretty bad. Let me get you some ice.”

She was quick to get a clean towel and fill it with ice, brushing her loose strands of hair out of her face as she kneeled back down in front of him. He continued to sit with his tongue out, making her giggle as she rested the towel on his wound.

She shook her head as he was looking at all of the features on her face, reminding himself how warm her brown eyes are, the soft barely there freckles on the bridge of her nose. The zit that she tried to hide with makeup on her chin, the scar in her right brow that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t this close. He could see the hole where a piercing used to be on the left side of her lip, how she had just put chapstick on her lips from how slick they looked.

“You okay here while I get the rest of the food from my Jeep?”

Harry slowly nodded while in his trippy daze mixture from the drugs and her beauty, he gently took the towel from her hand and kept it on his wound. She finished bringing in the food as everyone made their way back inside, laughing at Harry’s child-like position on the floor.

Bianca waved and said goodbye to everyone, gave Don a kiss, and checked up on Harry one last time. Harry was quickly hit with inspiration and an itch to start recording.

October 7, 2018

Walking up and down the aisles of the wine and spirits store, Harry was feeling the prickles of anxiety in his chest as he was looking at the selection of red wines. He had felt the restlessness since he had been invited to the home of the D’Angelo’s for a Sunday dinner, even more so after being in the studio. He wanted to make a good impression as he decided to grab the overpriced bottle of Sangiovese.

As he left with the bottle in hand, he had stopped at the flower shop across the street on the way to his car, deciding on a primarily yellow bouquet. The bouquet had called for him as his figures graced the petals. When walking to his car, he looked at the flowers and he couldn’t help but wonder why he had picked this specific bundle.

Showing up at the D’Angelo’s earlier than they had told him to arrive, Harry had made sure to have both the wine and bouquet in hand. He had taken his time to approach the door, more nervous than he has been in a while. He lifted his hand to rap on the door and before his knuckles made contact, the door flew open and Bianca walked right into his chest.

Both let out a noise at the impact but she began to laugh hysterically before profusely apologizing. Her mother was quick on her heels on the way out the door, asking both of the young adults if they were okay.

Harry gave a soft smile, confirming that he was okay before Bianca gave the excuse that she is ‘always in a hurry’. Ellie was quick to grab her daughter’s hand to pull her along with her, pointing in the direction of Don in the living room.

“We’ll be back sweetie, just need to pop by the store to pick up some things for dinner.” Ellie kissed his cheek as she and Bianca walked to the car. Bianca gave a little wave with a beaming smile, apologizing again for her clumsiness.

Don had called out to Harry from the couch as Harry was watching the girls cruise down the driveway. He got himself out of his daze, following the sound of Don’s voice, closing the door behind him. Don stood up from his spot to greet Harry in the entryway, shaking his hand after he moved his host gifts to his left hand and pulled him in for a hug.

Harry presented the flowers and wine to Don who was quick to rain his praises on the “wonderful taste” Harry had. After putting the flowers in a vase in the center of the family dining table and popping the wine into the wine chiller in the kitchen, Don guided the young man into the living room where a family movie had been paused on the screen.

“I always wait until I'm home alone to watch this video; I get emotional and the famiglia gets embarrassed.” Don gave a deep chuckle as he pressed play.

It was well edited with music playing over montages of a young couple’s romance, time at the beach, ever-growing love. Moments of pregnant Ellie and children slowly made appearances as the video continued. There were scenes of conversations in Italian that Harry could understand just slightly, causing him to laugh at Ellie's awful accent that Don made fun of as he rubbed her swollen belly while talking about, “la nostra piccola bambina”.

It transitioned from a couple’s home videos to a compilation of moments with the whole D’Angelo family. It comprised scenes of family vacations and Sunday dinners, moments where the young D'Angelo's speaking Italian, better than their mother. There were cutaways of all of the children playing and running around, laughing. Harry couldn’t help but smile seeing scenes of Justin on Don’s lap, sitting behind a drum set, Michael helping Ellie make pasta with flour all over his hands and cheeks.

Then he saw a very young Bianca standing in the living room with an ankle-length Little Mermaid nightgown, swaying back and forth while watching Grease play on the screen of the television. Don couldn’t help but beam at his little girl singing Hopelessly Devoted along with Olivia Newton-John, flawlessly at the age of four.

“My bambina, always the singer. Was singing before she could babble.”

Harry’s smile grew as well, especially when the little girl on the screen with mussy hair in her face stopped her swaying when the song ended and turned to give a shy smile to the camera her father was holding.

More scenes of the younger D’Angelo’s showing their musical talents; recitals, musicals, and plays. Harry could see that Bianca was quite the actress, even when she was playing the lead as a zookeeper for the Kindergarten production on animals.

Another moment where it was strictly Bianca had started, her walking out onto a stage towards a piano dressed in a sparkly red semi-formal dress, sitting behind the keys of the piano, and kicking off her ballet flats. The loud chords of It’s All Coming Back to Me were played expertly by a Bianca that could not have been more than sixteen. Her beautiful voice rang out as she emotionally sang out the lyrics.

The door had opened when a giggly Bianca and Ellie carried multiple bags. Bianca was quick to stop in her tracks when she saw the video on the television.

“Dad! Turn that off! Harry doesn’t need to see that, for fucks sakes!”

Don laughed out and leaned closer to Harry, “Told you they are embarrassed.” Don quickly turned off the video before both he and Harry stood up to help the girls with the bags of groceries. Ellie had pointed out the flowers in the center of the table, thanking Harry and kissing his cheek.

Bianca was pulling out ingredients from the reusable bag in front of her, separating by recipe. Harry was helping with a bag next to her, holding up each item for Bianca to guide him where they were to be set.

“Have you ever made homemade pasta, sweetie?” Ellie was popping an olive in her mouth as she was setting up some snacks on the table for people as they arrived, looking to Harry for a response.

“Uh, no, I haven’t. I would love to learn though.”

“Bianca is a great teacher! She can show you how to make linguini for a veggie dish we are making for you.”

Bianca was giving her mother a blunted look as she pulled the ingredients for the spinach and sun-dried tomato linguini towards her. She smiled at Harry before she took all of her rings off, indicating Harry followed suit.

She washed her hands and left the water on for Harry, grabbing the flour and eggs to place on the island. She cleaned off the service and grabbed the measuring cups to put two equal piles of flour on the counter.

“This is going to get messy, do you want an apron?”

Harry shook his head as he watched Bianca make a well in the center of her flour. Harry was quick to copy her movements, making a matching well in his flour mound. Bianca handed him four eggs before grabbing her own, cracking an egg, and pouring out the contents with one hand.

“How do you do that? I’d probably get shells everywhere.”

She had giggled, “Lots of practice, but I can show you.” She took an egg in her hand to show the motions. “First you crack it like you normally would, maybe a little harder to make sure the crack is deep. Then, stick your thumb in between the shells, using your nail. Your pointer and your middle finger will pull the top open with the help of your thumb, while your ring and pinky will pull with the help of your palm and then woop, out pops the egg.”

Harry followed the instructions, though a little slower and gentle as to not squeeze the shell too tight. Bianca moved closer to make sure Harry had a clean egg and sure enough, the perfect, shell-free egg fell next to the one he had cracked previously.

“There you go, a quick learner.” She looked up at him smiling before moving back to her station, finishing her cracking, and started to fork the eggs in the flour. Harry mimicked her motions until he saw her start moving flour into the center with her fingers. He watched as her hands became covered in flour, kneading the now developed dough.

Bianca talked Harry through the process as she continued to knead her dough. Harry continued his motions as she washed her hands to wrap the dough in plastic wrap to let it rest. She also wrapped Harry’s as he washed his hands. Don pulled down the pasta roller for them to use when the time was ready, kissing the top of Bianca’s head before grabbing a bottle of wine for the four of them to enjoy and turning on some music.

Come and Get Your Love by Redbone began to play through the house as Don popped open the bottle Harry had gifted and Ellie started dancing around the table as she set it for ten.

Everyone was quick to start singing the lyrics to the upbeat, feel-good song. Don grabbed Bianca to twirl her into a fit of giggles as she worked at the stove on sauces. Harry moved to Ellie to help her set the table and she bumped her hip to his while continuing her swaying.

The door had opened with Dean and Michael walking in, quickly transitioning to dancing into the kitchen. Dean had another bottle of wine in one hand and a paper bag in the other, pulling out the freshly baked bread as he kissed Bianca’s cheek.

Michael was quick to move to his mother, kissing her cheek, and wrapping his arms around her, as he embraced her while simultaneously dancing and singing. Ellie beamed as she held her son’s cheeks, “Come and get your love!”

Both made their way around the room, hugging and kissing everyone, Harry included. Dean went around and topped off everyone’s wine glass as he poured himself and Michael each a glass as well.

Christine and Justin walked in, followed by their sons, Dylan and Matthew, who ran right to their aunt. Bianca hugged and kissed them, helping them get their stools to be her sous chefs.

Harry went with the flow of the family, helping where he was needed and was fully immersed in the D’Angelo Sunday Dinner tradition. He felt truly welcomed by the family, able to be himself fully.

The Shoop Shoop Song began to play and Bianca let out an audible gasp, quick to join Cher in singing the song. Ellie made her way to her daughter, singing and dancing, both with massive smiles. Harry continued to sip his wine while watching the two women lose themselves to the song.

“She loves Cher. Probably her favorite artist.” Michael stood next to Harry while munching on bruschetta, dusting off his hands before grabbing his wine glass.

“Cher is great.” Harry also grabbed an appetizer, popping it in his mouth.

“Jack is great too. Bianca, I mean.”

Harry smiled, “She told me of the nickname, clever.”

Michael smiled as Justin had joined them, “She is also bambina, or bumblebee if you ask Michael.” Justin joined in on the snacking while Michael nudged Justin’s shoulder.

“Bumblebee?”

“Michael couldn’t say bambina when he was little, thinking it was Bianca’s name, so he always called her bumblebee.”

Harry looked back to the girls, Christine having joined in, now dancing to Marvin Gaye, focusing on Bianca, thinking that bumblebee is a very fitting nickname for the girl.

Everyone had finished their part of the dinner, making many pasta dishes, multiple portions of meat and enough vegetable-focused dishes to make any vegetarian happy.

“Bianca wanted to make sure you had lots of options, sweetie. Don had said that you're vegetarian.”

Harry nodded, taking a bite of one of the many delicious dishes in front of him. “I am, and thank you so much. Most people aren’t as accommodating.”

“Of course, you’re a guest.” Bianca smiled across the table, taking a sip of her limoncello over ice.

“You’re part of the family, Harry.” Don had said as he lifted his wine glass, the rest of the D’Angelo family raising their glasses and voicing their agreement.

October 26, 2018

“Dad! Stop moving! I’m going to mess up!”

Ellie had been giggling from the bathroom as she was pinning her wig on. She looked to her husband, who was sitting at her vanity while their daughter was painting the signature Ziggy Stardust lightning bolt across her father’s freshly shaven face. He had been claiming the brush was tickling him, causing him to squirm and to annoy his bambina.

Bianca let out a frustrated sigh as she swung her extensions behind her shoulders and adjusted the sequined bikini halter before leaning back in with the brush and red paint. After she had finally finished her paint job, she ran a brush through her long, straight hair before adjusting her sequined two-piece Cher costume designed by the one and only Harris Reed.

Don allowed Ellie to help put on his Ziggy Stardust wig after she threw on her leather jacket for her Debbie Harry costume.

The three had left the bedroom to meet Dean in his Purple Rain Prince costume and Michael in his Live Aid Freddie Mercury costume. They met in the kitchen for a cocktail before they made their way to the Casamigos Halloween Party.

The clan had all arrived together, the flashing of cameras began as they exited the car and made their way into the venue. They could hear their names called in every direction, always polite as they smiled and waved to the photographers.

It wasn’t long until all of the attention was off of the D’Angelos and on to who would be the talk of the night with his custom Gucci, Elton John Dodger costume, with large funky glasses and all the glitter in the world.

Bianca accidentally ran into her mother due to the distraction, Ellie quickly looked at what had caught her youngest’s eyes. Ellie began to smile when she saw her daughter in shock and Harry mimicking her expression back. She pulled on her husband's jumpsuit sleeve, showing him the two in awe.

Don’s smile matched his wife’s. “Giovane amore.”

Each person went off to venture around the venue, catching up with old friends and colleagues. Harry once again found Bianca standing at the bar, waiting for a drink. This time, he was the one to start the conversation.

“What will Cher be having tonight?” He leaned on the bar, facing the girl beaming at him as she ‘Cher swung’ her hair over her shoulder.

“Whatever Sir Elton John will be having.” Harry returned the smile and ordered them each a Paloma. They sipped on the tart drinks while catching up, since they haven’t seen each other since Sunday dinner.

“Your costume is phenomenal Harry. You would think you stole it right from Elton himself.”

“Thank you. Gucci always treats me well. Could say the same for your perfect Cher costume. Walked right off the Sonny and Cher Show set.”

“Thank you, but you should thank Harris.”

Harry had checked out the outfit for the hundredth time that night, “Leave it to Harris to do Cher justice. Honestly, though, don’t think anyone could wear that outfit as well as you and Cher herself.”

Harry loved to see the blush that had crept to her cheeks, his vision moving to her lips to watch her smile mold around the rim of the glass to take a drink. He looked back to her eyes as she moved her long hair again.

She cleared her throat, “Are you having fun? Enjoying the party?”

“More fun now that I’m at the bar with you. Tired of getting pulled to take pictures with everyone.”

“Yeah, that must be annoying. Can’t enjoy anything for yourself.”

“I’m enjoying this though.” Again, Harry was proud of her blush. “I would love to take a picture with you though. Would make sense since Elton and Cher are friends and all.” He raised his brows with a shrug of his shoulders.

“You want to take a selfie with me, Harry?”

“It would be my favorite picture of the night.”

“Alright.” She adjusted the high-waisted sequin bell-bottoms as well as the halter before moving her hair so that Harry could comfortably wrap his arm around her waist. She wrapped her arm around his shoulder comfortably, being his height in her heels. Harry pulled out his phone and took a few shots, one including him kissing her cheek.

“I could send these to you, but I don’t have your number.”

Bianca gave a playful scowl but quickly gave him her phone number and received the pictures. She reviewed them, smiling at her phone.

“These are great.”

Harry couldn’t help his grin, though it was interrupted by the call of his name. Harry internally groaned, not wanting to be taken away from Bianca but his mood changed when he saw Ziggy Stardust walk toward him. Harry let out a laugh at the slightly inebriated Don.

“You look great H!”

“So do you, Don.” Harry let Don embrace him before he wrapped himself around his daughter. He began to slur in Italian, so it was hard for Harry to eves-drop. Harry knew he was talking about him when he heard his name and both were smiling in his direction.

“Dad wants to know if you would like to join us for some midnight greasy food.”

Don started mumbling again, though this time, Harry could understand Don’s dire need for a bacon cheeseburger. Harry finished his drink and followed the family to the diner down the street.

All dressed in their rock-star attire, they were the life of the party at the diner. All the staff came out to take a look, even asking to take some pictures. They even took a group picture for the crew to have as a keepsake.

Bianca had noticed how a group of girls in the corner were in fits of giggles and constantly had their phones out. Harry had been facing them as well, keeping his head down and sipping a milkshake to avoid his face from being in the pictures. Michael had been sitting across from her, obnoxiously laughing at Don’s animalistic ingestion of his greasy burger.

Bianca nudged his leg under the table to get his attention, to which he looked up, “What’s up, Jack?”

“Switch seats with Harry.” She nodded her head inconspicuously to the group in the booth, to which Micheal had turned to kiss Dean on the cheek to take a quick look. He was quick to get up and rub Harry’s shoulder to indicate for them to switch.

Once Harry was sat across from Bianca, he fully joined the group in conversation and contentment. He looked at her and she was already looking at him smiling. He mouthed a ‘thank you’ and she nodded in return.

December 18, 2018

After spending the day with his family, helping his mother with the holiday baking, Harry was happy to be in his London abode, able to relax for the night. He changed into his most comfortable sweatpants and most tattered t-shirt and clipped his hair from his face before settling on the couch with a holiday movie playing in the background.

He pulled out his phone to catch up on his emails and social media, seeing his friends and family enjoying holiday festivities. Harry saw that Don had started a live video on Instagram, so he decided to watch what the D’Angelo family were doing for the holidays.

To no surprise, there was music playing in the background while the family was surrounded by food and wine. Don was walking around, loving on each family member and encouraging them to chat to the live stream.

Harry’s heart rate had increased when he heard Don call for ‘bambina’, who appeared to be holding a baby.

“Who do we have here, bambina?”

Bianca was beaming down at the little bundle in her arms who was sound asleep.

“Meet the new D’Angelo; this is Ms. Adeline.”

Michael was sitting next to his sister, looking down lovingly at the tiny girl in her arms.

“And who is Ms. Adeline?”

Michael turned to look at his father who was holding his phone, filming the moment.

“She is Dean’s and my new daughter.”

Harry watched on as the family loved the new member until the video ended. He had decided to check out Don’s Instagram page, seeing pictures and videos of his family and the bands he had worked with while they were in the studio.

He had scrolled back towards the beginning of the year, seeing a still of a video of a young Bianca running in with a guitar the size of her. Harry stayed on the frame and let the video play.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look what Michael taught me!”

She sat on the floor with the guitar covering most of her frame, her head poking out, and her little hands forming around the neck of the instrument. She watched as her fingers formed chords, strumming slowly.

“Moon river, wider than a mile. I’m crossing you in style, someday.”

The video had ended and Harry saw that there was a second video to the post. He slid his finger over to watch an adult Bianca continue to sing Moon River expertly while sitting in a window, similar to Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. She smiled at the camera as the song and video ended.

Harry read the caption to the video.

Happy 25th birthday, bambina. So proud of the woman you’ve become. 💛

Harry unconsciously clicked on her tagged name and went to her Instagram page. He scrolled through seeing selfies, pictures with friends, and even videos of her doing covers of songs.

The most recent video was posted right before the anniversary party. She was sitting at the piano, the angle was a view of her side-profile with a beach behind her through the window. The sun was shining, casting a shadow over her in the black and white video. Bianca was performing a heartbreaking rendition of Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac, putting all of her emotions into the climax of the song, belting out so that you could hear the echo of her voice throughout the house she was in.

Harry browsed the family and foodie pictures, admiring how effortlessly happy she had appeared the summer of 2018.

Another video had started to play of Dean and Bianca in their loungewear and socks, drunkenly giggled with Bruno Mars playing in the background. They made their way to the middle of the screen and effortlessly danced the dance break of Finesse that was performed at The Grammys that year. He giggled when at the end of the dance, Bianca jumped into Dean’s arms screaming because they had perfected the dance.

Harry continued to peruse her Instagram page. He couldn’t recall how far back he had gone, but he had paused on a picture of Bianca in a mirror selfie with Harris, wearing the sparkly purple shirt Harry wore in Vancouver. He read the caption, “When working with friends, you become a model.”

There were more pictures of Bianca with Harris as well as pictures of her with Lambert on sets of shoots. Pictures of different cities from travel were more frequent. Then, there was a video that Harry had watched more times he could count.

Bianca had been sitting at a studio piano, in a different location than other videos of her performing she had posted more recently. She even appeared a little younger and fresh faced with a natural glow. He could see a few windows in the background open, the sounds of a city as background noise.

“I know this song just came out, but I’m so obsessed that I couldn’t help myself from learning it as fast as I could.”

She began to play Sign of the Times flawlessly, belting out the lyrics and occasionally adding her own flair that Harry couldn’t help but melt at. He knew that he had to have this person in his life the moment her child-like smile shined to the camera.

Harry watched it one last time before he pulled up her contact, the picture of them from Halloween as her contact photo. He pressed the call button and put the phone to his ear.

“Well, hello Harry. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Would you like a permanent job working with me and my team as our creative director?”

There was a pause on the other line and Harry thought that he made a mistake.

“I would love that.”

Here she is! I have to say, working over a year in the plot (that is still changing daily) has made me so damn proud of this fic. I cannot wait to see what everyone has to say and if people love this fic as much as I do.

I have to give the biggest and most loving thank you to @mysweetcreaturestories for working on the plot and inspiring me to write the fic, to @harrysgoldenbum and @for-fucks-sake-h for being the most amazing betas and helping me through out this whole thing, and @nattalina-shop for making the most beautiful header that I could have dreamed of. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!

Please feel free to drop me an ask, tell me your thoughts, ask me questions, whatever your heart’s desires.

#adore you fic #adore you fic series #prologue #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles fic series #harry styles

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inlovewithhisblueeyes · 3 years

Text

Last Minute

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Prompt: Someone write me a pic where you somehow convince August Walker, your next door neighbor, to babysit to you dog/cat whenever you’re away. Then one day you come back from wherever the hell you went to, he slips up and says “Our son/daughter missed you.”

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: Mentions of nudity and the morning after, implied sexual activities

A/N: This is a Christmas present for the wonderful @raspberrydreamclouds who also wrote the prompt. I hope you enjoy!

A/N 2: I decided to give my own dog, Paris, a chance to play a starring role in one of my stories. She’s definitely a character.

Shimmering rays of gold slipped into the room on the gentle morning breeze. August had woken up a short while earlier to find that the spot beside him on the bed was cold and empty. He had been retired from his life as the Hammer for a few years now. The skills of observation that August had prided himself had completely vanished as soon last night’s romp slipped into his life. The only thing that comforted him was the fact that he could hear the shower turning on. With a groan, the blue-eyed devil removed his legs from where they were tangled up in the sheets and rose to his feet.

Where he had expected to feel the clothes that had been discarded from his latest tryst, August had only felt the cool wooden floor. Glancing around, he noticed that his clothes had been folded up and placed on the dresser. He could just barely remember a soft voice teasing him about making a mess. His arms reached out above his head as he yawned before one of his hands scratches down through the fur on his chest. It just narrowly misses brushing up against his impatient cock. The man remained perplexed while racking his head for the memories of last night.

He chuckled and just then he heard a tender lilt steaming out from the bathroom.

“Hold me close and hold me fast”

This voice was incredibly familiar to him, yet August couldn’t place where he had heard it before.

“The magic spell you cast.”

He couldn’t refrain being drawn into it like a ship in the night. He needed to know who this angel was.

“This is La vie en rose”

Steam seeped out from the cracked doorway as he crept closer.

“When you kiss me, heaven sighs”

The former agent slowly pushed the door the rest of the way open carefully so he didn’t alert his songbird.

“And though I close my eyes”

The glass of the shower door was all fogged up and August could scarcely make out the curve of her breast. Who was she?

“I see La vie en rose”

Her face turned away from the door and he leaned up against the doorframe, content with listening to her siren song. The mystery woman continued to hum the rest of the song as she swayed under the warm water. As if she was listening to his prayers, she slowly turned around. One glance at her face and the bewhiskered man saw that it was you. With a crook of your finger, you drew him closer to your heavenly body. August reached out to open the shower door and-

A sonorous snort yanked August away from your teasing ways. He immediately sat up and searched his bed for your sleeping form; however, he had the rude awakening that his visions of you were just an incredibly realistic dream. He only found your mutt happily snoring away belly up in the middle of his bed. The blue-eyed devil ran a hand down his face as he glanced at the sun just rising in the distance. Scratching his mustache, August considered his options. Option one consisted of moving the snuffling mutt that had stolen his bed from him, but the chances of waking the needy pup up were high. He wasn’t particularly in the mood for getting attacked with affection this early.

Option two was abandoning his bed for a dog free couch, yet he had a feeling the pup would trail after him. She was rather attached to him which is why you had asked him to watch her. When August had moved in a few years ago, the clingy dog had gotten off her harness and ran all the way back to your townhouse. She happened upon August as he was sitting outside and instantaneously attached herself to his lap. Normally, dogs could sense that he wasn’t the best of men around and would leave him be. This mutt, your little Paris, had decided the former agent was the best person to run to.

Now he had seen you with her a few times and knew that this rascal was never allowed outside with her harness. So when she happened to be outside sans harness and running around freely, August immediately knew he had a runaway pup. By the time you had finally arrived back to your townhouse, which happened to be right next to his own, you were noticeably in tears with the harness and leash in hand as you called out for her. Paris had decided to not even stir from where she decided to rest on his lap and the bewhiskered man had decided it was better to wait for you to return.

He was never good with tears especially when they came from a pretty lady. Even stranger in that moment he wanted to perhaps be the reason the stopped. It was a puzzling thought. August called over to you and let you know that he had your runaway pup. Your cries immediately stopped and you ran towards him, thanking him profusely. Once you had the naughty dog back on her harness, you had hugged him. Given that he was just recently retired from his life as the Hammer, John Lark, and all the other names he went by, August had distinctly noticed how your body seemed to slot up just right against his.

Thinking back, he had never received a hug or any commendation for any of the various contributions he made to his country’s security. It shocked him at first and then it was over before he could even get used to it. You thanked him profusely and in that moment he realized he wanted to hear your voice say his name any way he could get you to. This is the very reason why he had agreed to be your saving grace when your usual sitter had backed out. By this point, he had spent some time getting to know you; there had been a few dinners at each others places and trips to the movies. You had made him welcome in his new home and he didn’t want to mess this up like he had in the past.

August wanted to fuck you of course, it had been awhile since he had the pleasure of someone other than his right hand. But, it was your personality, your beliefs, your way of giving love to those who needed it most, that had really drawn him in. You had rescued Paris and had rehabilitated her and his troubled soul wanted you to do the same for him. You had a lightness in you, an innate goodness, that reached out and soothed the tattered remains of his dark heart. The former secret agent found himself actively seeking you out when he felt he hadn’t seen you in a while. He wanted to spend as much time in your presence as he could.

Granted this desire led to him watching the mutt which he was definitely handling well. It was just a dog after all, a very needy, attached to his hip, dog. Another obnoxious snort broke him from his reflections. It had only been one night so far and he only had three more days of this. He could do this and prove to himself that he doesn’t destroy everything good in his life. It was then he noticed how high the sun was in the sky and decided it was best to get started with his first full day with the mangy mutt. With a slight groan, August rose from his bed and made his way to the kitchen. He was going to need all the caffeine he could get to handle this overexcited bundle of fuzz.

After two cups of coffee, he had deemed himself ready to take the ball of fluff out for her morning walk. The man prayed to whatever was out there that the mutt wouldn’t get off her harness. He really did not have to call you and let you know that he had lost your dog. That would not bode well for his plan of a future with you. The pup was easy enough to wrangle into her harness as soon as he mentioned the magic word walk. August had to laugh at how fast her tail was wagging at the prospect of going out. He was certainly beginning to understand the appeal behind owning a dog.

The two slipped out of the house and into the cold morning air. He allowed the dog to lead him wherever she wanted to go. She seemed eager to sniff various spots along the way and walk at a leisurely pace. It was refreshing to be out in the open air like this even if he was stuck there with the mutt. The rest of the walk continued without issue that was until she caught the scent of home. The poor thing tried dragging him back to her home, but August stood his ground as she whimpered. The sound just might have broken his heart when he realized for the first time that she missed you probably much more than he did.

“Paris! Puppy! You see here, Paris. I miss your mommy too. Luckily you only have to be without her for a few days. Alright pup? Now let’s go have some breakfast. If you come willingly, I might just let you snuggle up on my lap,” the bewhiskered man murmured starring down at the sad dog.

At the mention of food, she immediately bounced back to being the overeager pup he knew her to be. The rest of the days passed by in a similar manner. He would get up, walk the pup, remind her that her mommy would be home soon, feed her, and cuddle with her which he was slowly starting to enjoy. The pure unadulterated love that poured out of this tiny thing soothed him just how you did. He could definitely get used to this puppy love. August had almost forgotten that this furry baby wasn’t even his by the time you returned home. The pup had nestled herself right into his world like she had been a part of it all along.

The chime of the doorbell had the puppy leaping from his lap in circus of barking and jumping. August paused the movie he was watching and he made his way over to the door, careful to avoid tripping over his excited baby. He opened the door to reveal you waiting patiently. If he thought Paris had been going nuts before, it was nothing compared to this display of affection.

“Par-bear!!!,” You squealed as you stepped into the house.

You bent down in front of your puppy and were greeted with a flurry of kisses that August feeling a bit left out.

“How was she?” You beamed up at him.

“Paris was great. Honestly, none of the things you were concerned about came to pass. Our daughter did seem to miss you a little bit,” August admitted as he scratched the back of his neck.

“Our daughter?!?” You questioned with a smirk that could rival one of his.

He could feel the color drawn from his face as he sputtered, desperate to come up with a way to save his from this mess. You stood up and gently placed a hand on his arm before giving his bicep a squeeze.

“Is this your way of finally asking me out?” You teased as a bright smile appeared on your face.

The blue-eyed man could only nod yes not trusting his voice in that very moment.

“Well Paris seems to love you so I’d be happy to go out with you sometime. You know how to reach me.”

In that moment, August was grateful for the fateful day Paris had gotten of her harness. Maybe someone out there was looking out for him after all.

#henry cavill #august walker #mission impossible #mission impossible fallout #august walker x reader #august walker x you #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fandom #the cavillry #reader insert #august walker fanfiction #august walker fanfic

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allthingsjeresa · 3 years

Text

So I don’t have AO3 account and apparently you have to get invited to have an account. Fun fact I didn’t know. I’m currently stuck in a week long queue but I wrote a Jeresa fic and wanted to post it somewhere so here goes nothing… this is a rewrite of the ending of 5x04. An additional scene if you will. The songs that got me through this chapter (majority of season 5 actually are Love The Lonely Out Of You by Brothers Osborne and Terrible Love By The National. I encourage you to take a listen- they are as heartbreaking as they sound!

When James made it back to the safe house that night, mission completed and his body count one soul heavier, there was a thick air of coldness as he reported to Teresa.

Cop killed. Check. Thumb print left on the ledger. Check. Feds made it to the scene first. Check.

He was nothing if not thorough at his job and they both knew he didn’t need to specify that any of these things had been handled. A simple “we’re good” would’ve sufficed. Yet there he was making a point to specify with Teresa, only because it felt like he’d been put into a time machine.

All of a sudden he was back in Dallas, climbing up the ranks and filling in precise updates to a certain jefa. One who donned red lipstick and killer heels instead of white clothes and curly hair. It was too close to home, what Teresa expected of him and the mission he had just worked. When he’d done important jobs in the past, Camila always wanted to know everything down to the last detail.

So there he stood across the room, delivering the news to his newest “jefa” like the compliant and meticulous cartel lieutenant he was. Because one thing about James- he learned from his mistakes. And when it came to Teresa, he had a bad habit of mistaking things for what they actually were. You could say his very wrong perception of their relationship was how he ended up in a small pantry for hours that night, clutching onto hope that she would shoot him a text and backtrack. She never did.

Well, his vision was clearer than ever now and he would not make the mistake of confusing anything again. The unfortunate truth is that for the majority of his adult life, James had been a lethal killing machine. He had never told anyone before, not even when he was newly enlisted, just how much it terrified him. It was one thing to be good at killing but what if that was your only purpose in life? That was what kept James up late at night. He never seemed to fit in anywhere unless it meant he had his finger on a trigger or a clip of rounds in his pocket. Wherever he went, it felt like that’s all anyone saw for some time- who he could kill for them. Eventually, it became his identity. It was more of a curse really. At one point, possibly right after working for Camila, James learned to accept this.

Then from out of no where, Teresa Mendoza was brought to the warehouse one sunny hot day in Dallas and the wiring of his brain slowly unraveled. It’s true what people say about your world getting flipped upside down when you least expect it. He never expected Teresa.

You’re a good person, James.

We can do things a different way.

You don’t have to hide from me.

We’re in this together.

Everyone deserves that.

For the first time in years he thought maybe… just maybe he could find a new purpose. One with Teresa. Back in Phoenix, when they defeated la comission together he finally felt like he belonged. For the first time in a long while, he fit in somewhere. And that’s how Teresa and her team became his people.

Then what happened right after in Bolivia… well, it happened. The outcome of it shattered him and he never really explained to her why. He didn’t belong again. She’d thought him capable of the unthinkable. He was only good for deceit and murder in her eyes. His self-worth was back to square one. It was hard for James to get over it but he did. He would’ve stayed by her side if not for Devon. That’s how malleable he was when it came to Teresa. Naturally the minute he was free from Devon, he high-tailed it to New Orleans. No matter what happened between them, he would protect Teresa like always. He thought he’d warn her of the impending danger and if things went well, then maybe they could have a clean slate. Work things out. Run the business the way they always wanted to. Purpose. That was how James ended up in Louisiana with a heart full of hope and bullet in his gut.

But what no one tells you about hope- it hurts as much as heartbreak once it’s gone. James would know.

He was simply a soldier, like always. A living weapon to further her reign and nothing more. Her comment about the CIA earlier that day had only cemented it. And boy, had it hurt. It hurt because he thought maybe, after everything he was worth more to her. Because she was Teresa Mendoza and she wasn’t like anyone he’d encountered before. She didn’t see people around her as tools or collateral damage that either served or threatened her power. She didn’t see James the way everyone else in his life had. Or so he thought. James was starting to find out that perhaps he knew nothing at all. He didn’t know much about what had happened between that time he was gone, and the only person he wanted to ask had just made it clear what he was good for.

Don’t question me. She didn’t have to say it but he heard it loud and clear. So with those boundaries reinforced, he made himself a promise to keep the hierarchy between him and Teresa strictly maintained. That meant no personal questions or conversations. He would only do as he was told. He would treat her as the superior she was.

Maybe it didn’t have to be an issue- what he meant to Teresa. Maybe he could try and compartmentalize things. After all, he’d been a weapon most of his life for people and organizations much lesser than her. The United States government, Camila… Devon. Granted the last was not by choice, but still. It was nothing new. He didn’t have to take it so personally. He could do it.

And he would. How could he not? This was Teresa after all. He’d assume his well accustomed position of diligent death-dealer while knowing that he might be worth nothing more than a loaded gun in her hand… knowing that he felt the way he did about her and that there wasn’t much he could do about it. He was bound to Teresa whether he liked it or not. One thing about James- he was good at eventually accepting things for what they were. With that rooted in his head, James didn’t dare look back as he made his way to his room, carrying the weight of the last year and now that day on his shoulders.

****

While James did his best to establish a new mindset, Teresa was struggling. He walked away from her and suddenly she was on the verge of tears. Again.

Wait.

She had wanted to cry out, beg him not to leave and try her best to explain. Instead she let him walk away because what she’d done was unjustifiable. It was a new low for her, reassuring him with promises of helping those boys after she’d ordered him to kill. Especially because it wasn’t true. Not really. She knew killing that cop wasn’t so much about helping anyone as much as it was about protecting her business. Maybe it was best they didn’t talk too much. All she ever did lately was lie to him after all. She lied about only wanting safety and legitimacy in New York. She lied about not having a choice with Marcel. She didn’t intend to, but it’s just what came out. Maybe it’s what she wanted to believe. Teresa wondered what that meant for her. Was she becoming that twisted, it already felt like second nature to tell people what she thought they needed to hear? She felt disgusting. She wanted to scream.

But nothing came out. That’s all she gave anyone lately.

Nothing.

Nothing but orders and vicious, petty blows.

Pressure was destroying Teresa. Pressure to keep the house of cards from falling down. While her business thrived, she crumbled. She was not only distraught but ashamed. Out of everyone she could choose to lash out on, she knew James didn’t deserve it. Not after everything in Phoenix. Not after a year of being a slave to Devon’s clutches and certainly not after getting shot and nearly bleeding to death just to make it to her in time.

While James tried to wash off his sins of the night in a shower across the house, Teresa silently cried again over a line in her closet. It was getting too repetitive, her little habit. It had started slowly. She had endless nightmares about cars exploding. Tony. Brenda. Birdie. Running for her life in Culiacan. Sometimes she was even back in that cage in Dallas. She wasn’t sleeping at all. That was how her relationship with cocaine began. A little bump here and there to get her through the day. It did what no amount of caffeine could ever. It gave her invincibility, strength and courage. When Teresa forgot just how capable she was, cocaine was there to remind her. When she had a tough night, and it felt like it was starting to become every night, it gave her the push she needed to go on. Right now she needed to remember why she was doing what she was. The coke made her more of everything. But perhaps she’d been wrong about that too. As she looked in the reflection in front of her, eyes puffy and bloodshot from her breakdown, she felt anything but strong. Maybe it was in her weakness she did what she did next. Or perhaps it was the coke ironically making her too confident, Teresa really couldn’t tell the difference anymore. But she cleaned herself up, removing any traces of tears and made her way to the other wing of the house.

When she knocked on his room door to no response she feared the worst. She gave it 30 seconds before she turned around to make it back to her wing when the door swiftly opened. Teresa’s eyes met James’ surprised face and she swallowed.

So much for cocaine-fueled bravery.

Hair slightly damp, clad in a muscle shirt and a cigarette perched between his lips, he’d guided her to the balcony attached to his bedroom.

For a good while neither of them said a word. He offered her a cigarette and she simply shook her head in refusal. In all honesty, she was scared her hands shook a bit too much to take it. It might’ve been seconds or minutes before anyone spoke. Teresa didn’t know. Then, finally James broke first.

“What is it Teresa?” His voice was scratchy and thick as if he hadn’t spoken in days. No beating around the bush or awkward tip-toeing. Just serious and straight to the point. She almost flinched.

Without looking at him, Teresa sniffed and gave her answer.

“I wanted to apologize. Earlier, what I said. I was out of line. I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Her voice was soft as she pushed a curl back nervously.

They both knew exactly what she was referring to, so she was confused when James said nothing and instead nodded at her apology in acceptance. Or maybe hurt was the better term. Because while Teresa had come to appreciate his anger, even his disapproval most recently, she wasn’t prepared for his indifference. It was like a slap in the face. She wondered if maybe that’s what it was like being in her orbit lately.

Well… that’s that.

Shame flooded her once again and she fought to keep her composure, a wave of emotions threatening to hit like a monsoon. She rubbed her nose and sniffed again. Her voice was shaking when she meekly replied “I should go.”

Teresa barely made it a step before James spoke again.

“You know, at least make sure your nose is clean if you’re gonna give orders to end lives.”

This time it was James who didn’t look up. Instead he stared intensely out into the night, puffing out hits of nicotine. His face was an unreadable mask.

“What?” Teresa blinked. The air was suddenly chilly and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. She thought she had an idea of how this conversation might go. This… this was not it.

James put out the cigarette and finally faced her. What he saw only confirmed his assumption. A deer stuck in the headlights.

“I pushed weight for six years in Dallas with Camila. I know coke drip, Teresa. I know it so well, I made a point not to associate with people who powdered their nose too often.”

He spat out the last words and it was only then Teresa realized her great failure of reading his temperament. It wasn’t indifference he’d been feeling, but rather pure anger. Rage disguised as calm silence. He knew. Of course he did. Probably from the moment he opened his door. If Teresa was a one way mirror he was the only one able to see the other side. Somehow she was able to compose herself enough to reply.

“It’s not what you think. It’s been a hard week, that’s all.” Teresa was feigning self-assurance. She had been on the run, encountered many terrifying people in her days and nearly died one too many times, but if there was a moment where she was struggling to look more confident than ever, it was right then. The sad truth is she only said that because she didn’t know what else to say. They both knew it was bullshit.

James sighed.

“Yeah, is that what you tell yourself? Listen, if you want to protect your business at all costs, I get that. And I’ll do whatever it is you need me to do. After today, you should already know that. But this… this is a hard limit, Teresa. One that will only end badly.” His words came out rough.

“Look, I have it under control.” Standing in front of him, pupils blown, feeling like a raw open nerve she wondered if he could sense just how much she was spiraling. James had killer instincts and with that came killer intuition.

Hard limit.

What did that even mean? If she didn’t get her nose clean he would leave? Oh no. She needed damage control. She couldn’t get hurt again like the last time.

“Besides,” Teresa didn’t know why she continued, “you don’t understand.” Maybe it was a cry for help.

There was emphasis behind her words and James was studying her closely now. His forehead slightly furrowed, eyes squinting as if in deep concentration. Then he laughed and Teresa’s stomach dropped even more.

“I don’t understand. I don’t understand?”James’ voice was a sardonic repetition of her own words laced in disbelief.

“You know that line might work with Pote, Kelly Anne or anyone else in this house but don’t pull that bullshit with me.” He pulled out another cigarette and lit it, while Teresa grabbed onto the balcony railing. She felt like she needed the support. This conversation felt too familiar. How many times had they stood on a balcony, angry and upset with the other, unloading and apologizing? James was losing count. His head spun.

“Teresa, we both know all I’ve done since I’ve stepped foot here is respect boundaries and follow your orders. That’s fine if it’s what you want, it really is. But you shut me out. You said you wouldn’t hide and yet here we are, and you have the audacity to throw in my face how I don’t understand? How could I possibly understand? You won’t give me the time of day if I’m not doing whatever it is you need from me. You haven’t even given me a chance.”

James was now the one doing his best to reign in his emotions. He had so carefully crafted a mask all day. Worked hard to lay out a gap of distance between them. And suddenly, here she was unstoppable. Trouble. Like a constant tornado in his life, from the moment she first appeared in that warehouse. Always showing up and tearing everything down. She was too good at it.

“You’re right. I haven’t been fair to you lately.” How do you show up to give one apology and end up with two? Teresa was in for it. With a deep breath she continued.

“Look, maybe it was a mistake, asking you to stay. If you want to leave after this, I’ll understand. And I promise I won’t hold it against you, James. You’ve done so much for me, for this business. But you deserve to be happy too.” Teresa said those words and her vision blurred. It was the most honest she’d been all night and she found herself letting him go again. He couldn’t be happy there, with her. Teresa wasn’t even happy herself. Declarations of “you deserve that” rung between them from that night in New York. The same night she let him back inside and shut him out all at once. “I know this hasn’t been what you expected when you decided to stay. For that, I’m sorry. I should’ve been honest with you, about things changing but I wasn’t. The fact is that it has to be different now. After the car…” Teresa choked up and stopped mid-sentence. “Look, the price to pay is too much. I can’t go back to who I was. And I can’t run this business any other way. Please understand.”

The underlying message behind that- she couldn’t be the person he wanted her to be as a cartel leader or as a lover. Her morals had to go down the drain and well, she wouldn’t be vulnerable with James because they could not have that kind of relationship. Not in this lifetime, as she had so sweetly put it.

There was definitely more to her latest revelation and he didn’t know the details behind it just yet. It didn’t matter. All he knew was that if she had been using for whatever reason, the last thing he would do was up and leave. No. He decided he would not be going anywhere, because as Pote had preached to him only a week ago, she might not want him to stay but she needed him. He just hadn’t realized how much at that moment or why. And James did not come this far, signing off a year of his life and fighting off death itself just to lose her to the very product she sold. As long as he remained flesh and bone, she would not destroy herself. He wouldn’t allow it. Not ever again. So he made sure to look her pointedly in the eyes when he sharply said “I’m staying, Teresa.”

And with that said, he walked off the balcony and into the bedroom dismissing her and any words of leaving.

#jeresa #queen of the south #james valdez #teresa mendoza #qots #qots spoilers #alice braga #peter gadiot #otp

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