#An ending that's also a beginning...! This came out so peaceful and warm!

[bbearthyy]

submitted to you

none of my works are ever proofread!

cw: none, angst ig?, it’s mostly fluff, talks about a panic attack once so skip the first paragraph if you don’t like that

carl loved to submit to you.

not in a sexual way, he actually hated to give up control in the bedroom. the first time you tried to top him in bed, he nearly had a panic attack. there was a long talk about what happened to him before his arrival at alexandria, what consent meant, and safe words that night.

carl submitted during your day to day life. and he had no shame, willingly doing so in front of anyone. he lost count of how many times he came home after a long day and dropped to his knees in front you, laying his head in your lap and slumping against you where you sat on the couch or armchair, not caring that his family was also in the living room.

other times he’d come home, drop his boots at the door, and walk silently upstairs. if you weren’t in the kitchen following him up the staircase your were in his bedroom, waiting with open arms. he’d fall into you, and you’d wordlessly slip your hands under his shirt. you knew he’d be coming home soon and already started a warm bath with peach scented bubbles. you’d gently pull all the clothing from his body, quickly ridding yourself of your own, before holding him close in the tub. mumbling soft praises into his ears you’d hold him, not even a little surprised when he falls asleep.

it wasn’t just him submitting though, it was the subtle acts of dominance you did for him. it was the way you’d lay out his clothes for him the night before he had to meet with a new group. the way you’d get up with him when his alarm went off earlier than usual, slipping quietly downstairs to pack a lunchbox for him, slipping a sweet note inside. the fact that you went out of your way to find the materials to craft him the softest eye patch you could. the way you cared for him in ways he didn’t even know he needed.

you were the only one he let cut his hair after his mom passed. it had been a couple months after he lost his eye. the way his hair was constantly being pulled on by the bandage bothered him to no end. one day he got tired of just dealing with it. once his shift on watch was over he ran home as quick as he could, pushing past his family and marching upstairs to his bedroom.

you were on the bed crocheting a blanket for judith when he walked in, the sight of you so comfortably doing such a motherly task while only wearing his flannel nearly made him forget why he was there. but his watery eye and red checks made you question him immediately, concern flooding your senses. carl explained as quick as could, desperately trying to get you to understand that he couldn’t handle the bothersome strands of hair in his face anymore.

after a few minutes of calm conversation, you reassuring carl that you wouldn’t cut too much and him reminding himself that it was okay to be vulnerable with you, you walked to the bathroom hand in hand. he’d sat on the toilet seat fidgeting with his hands, and you calmly began trimming his hair. you didn’t cut much off, just enough to get it off of his shoulders and out of his eyes, but it was still a lot for him.

you’d sat in that bathroom together for 30 minutes after your finished with his hair. his arms wrapped tight around your waist, face pressed into your tummy where you stood in front of him, silent but peaceful tears slowly spilling down his cheeks. his family was delighted to see his new look once he’d made his way downstairs, and even more delighted once they realized just how good you were for their boy.

you’d done so much for carl since the beginning of your relationship, and he’ll never understand why. all he knows is that he’s never gonna let you go.

[themidnightcrimson]

good morning ࿏ wm

summary: in which you decide to get what you want first thing in the morning.

words: 3.9k

warnings: top!wanda, power bottom!reader, dubcon/noncon, breeding kink, cumstrap (r receiving), somno (r giving), blowjob on cumstrap (r giving), enhanced strap, brief choking, just imagining slutting top!wanda out like this woeidbsibfwioe its the power bottom in me

this fic is for 18+ only. minors dni. read with discretion.

masterlist.

The room was cool and the bed warm by the time you woke up. Legs shifting smoothly under the crisp sheets, you could hear the faint chirp of a lone bird outside the window along with what sounded like a gentle spring morning rain shower.

Plat plat plat plat the rain softly tapped against the window and quietly onto the roof above you. It was a sleepy rain, an early morning rain whose clouds blocked the sun from glaring through your window. It made waking a little easier, a little more soft.

The other thing that made waking a peaceful experience was the warm body you were tangled up with. The soft, curled ends of light brown hair tickled your bare shoulder, and it was the first thing you saw in the dim room as you opened your eyes. Your head rose and fell slowly with Wanda’s steady breath. It was resting on her bare chest, the skin there hot against your ear. She always slept so hot.

Your legs were tangled with hers, your arm thrown across her torso. As you blinked your eyes awake, you tilted your head upwards to get an angle of her from below. The stretch of her jawbone, the mountain of her cheekbones just beyond it. Heavy eyelashes fluttered closed, deep pink lips pursed in her sleep. The crinkle between her eyebrows that was always there when she slept. She was starting to get a permanent wrinkle from it, and while she was embarrassed of it, you told her it was just the imprint of all the dreams she’d ever had right there in one wrinkle between her brows so she would never forget them. Wanda was always a deep dreamer, for better or worse.

The puffy comforter you shared rested right below her breasts, likely pushed down during her overheated sleep. Her hair was splayed over her chest, barely covering the peaks of her soft pink nipples. Her skin looked pale and soft under the dim gloomy morning light. You let your hand glide over the soft expanse of her tummy, fingers pressing into her flesh as you shift, waking up a little more. Letting out a silent yawn, you casually let your hand stroll further down beneath the blanket, being thrown off guard a little when your hand touches cool silicone between her legs.

It was Wanda’s new creation still left strapped around her hips via harness from last night’s endeavors. It took a lot of research and magical effort for Wanda to create her enchanted strap that functions like a biological part of her body. Using her magic, she enchanted the strap so that she can feel through it and cum through it. Let’s just say the first few tries once she perfected it could be described as very quick, hot, and wet on her end. It was the most mind-blowing feeling she had ever felt, being able to feel you inside. Even now, a few weeks later, she still warns you how sensitive it still is, which you could tell from the beginning because of how fast she came with you.

Wanda’s magic was very powerful—spontaneous creation. For that reason, she insisted on wearing a condom the first several times using the enchanted strap out of fear of accidental pregnancy, though you knew she secretly had a breeding kink. Finally, she stopped using condoms, but she still pulled out of you every time. It was hot, seeing her get so close to just doing it, to just letting go and planting her cum deep inside you. You could see it on her face every time. But every time, milliseconds before release, she pulls out and chooses to spill all over your tummy or back instead. Of course, that was also hot in its own right. But you desperately wanted her to cum inside. You weren’t sure if it was the risk or the ownership aspect of it, but you fucking needed it.

And you knew she wanted it too. She had a tendency to hold you down when she’s about to cum, almost as if she is about to force you to take her cum, which you willingly would take every single drop. You even told her in a heated moment of passion to cum inside you once, and she almost did accidentally. Hearing you say that made her orgasm immediately, and she had to frantically pull out right as she spurted all over your mound, making sounds you’d never heard her make.

And now, in the dim morning light with cozy rain coming from outside, and Wanda’s soft, warm sleeping body with her cock in your hand as you thought over all these times with the new magical piece, you wanted it.

But she was so pretty and peaceful in her sleep with her crinkled brow of dreams and her slowly rising and falling chest. You wouldn’t wake her.

Licking your lips, you shifted your body so that you hovered over her, taking great care in slinking down her body without moving the blankets or the bed too much. With the hem of the blanket resting at the back of your neck, you rested your elbows over her plush thighs, eyeing the strap that now sat right in front of your face.

Humming, you trail your fingers to the harness straps, fiddling with the fabric on her hips for a moment before you carefully let them trail to the base of her cock, taking it in your fist gently. Glancing back up to her, you saw the same image—her head resting on the pillow, turned to the side, sleeping peacefully like an angel. The warmth between your legs grew as you formulated the plan of your desires, licking your lips and coming closer to her strap.

You placed Wanda’s length in your mouth. It surprised you every time how big she was—an advantage she smugly gave herself when crafting her piece. Suctioning your lips, you began to swirl your tongue around the tip of the strap with a gentle but purposeful pressure.

It didn’t take long before your mouth ignited the spell within the strap, and her magic peered through the silicone in cracks that looked like molten lava in a crimson hue. That’s how you knew she was aroused now, and as you looked up at her again, she was still sleeping as peacefully as ever.

It took some practice for you to understand how to give your girlfriend a blowjob since it was your first time, but Wanda was patient and could get off with basically any touch you gave her with how sensitive the strap felt when she wore it anyways.

So you lowered your mouth further down on her strap that was warming up between your lips, keeping your hand on the base to keep it steady. Letting your other hand gently squeeze her thigh, you sucked her gently, wanting to make her feel good but not wanting to wake her up. It startled you when, as you took her entirety in your mouth so that the tip of her cock poked the back of your throat, Wanda’s legs twitched under you. It was only once and, looking up as you deepthroated her, you saw that the sleeping look on her face remained unchanged.

The depth with which you took her in your throat prompted tears to form in your eyes and saliva in your mouth. Sniffling, you kept taking her all the way in and then suctioning as you lifted your mouth from her, letting your tongue flick around her tip before deepthroating her again. You were slow and gentle, but she was hot and throbbing with magical arousal. You could even smell it on her now and, reaching down under the base where her slit was, you found that she was wet there, too.

Getting excited, you bobbed your head perhaps a little too hard, and she twitched again, this time letting her head sway to the other side. You paused, waiting for any sign of further movement or signs of being awake, but she was still deep asleep, the crease in her brow deeper now. You went back to sucking her off dutifully, and as wet sounds filled the air, Wanda moved again, this time arching her back. The movement sent her hips bucking up, which shoved her cock into your throat unexpectedly, causing you to choke on her girth.

Recovering, you continued carefully and watched as she twitched and squirmed in her sleep, somehow still staying deep asleep even as you could feel her throb faster. Her lips fell open at one point, soft gasps of air filling the quiet, dim room along with your wet sucking sounds. Her body heated up even more under your hands, and she started to buck her hips more.

Picking up your speed, you deepthroated her more and more, choking yourself on her strap while she grew even more restless. You knew she was seconds away from cumming, so you grabbed the base of her strap and sucked harder and faster. Finally, with a whispery, sleepy moan, and a more violent twitch of her hips, Wanda came in your mouth. You kept your mouth around her, feeling her warm cum gush at the back of your throat and ooze down it. You waited, letting her twitch and gasp and push out every last drop of cum before you finally swallowed it and took her out of your mouth. She was sweet to the taste with just a hint of metal, an interesting mix of her magic that reminded you of the taste of her real arousal.

There were many benefits to this magical creation of Wanda’s, one of many being that there was an unlimited supply.

Her cock now wet and shiny and slightly glowing, you carefully crawled back up her body and straddled her. She had almost immediately fallen back into utter stillness as soon as she came, except for her chest that was rising and falling much faster now. Biting your lip, you reached down and took her breasts into your hands, squeezing and letting your thumb roll over her nipples that were already rock hard for you. You could feel her cock, resting below your thigh, twitch and throb, basically vibrating with magic. All you could taste was her cum that coated the inside of your mouth, the taste still soaked into your tongue.

She just looked so pretty, even more relaxed now, having just helplessly cum in your mouth without even knowing it. Leaning down, you pressed a chaste kiss to her still lips before moving your mouth to her neck and pressing soft, wet kisses there. You let your hand grope her breasts for a moment before sliding it down and rubbing her tummy, lowering it further and further until you reached below yourself and took her strap in your hand again.

Still kissing her neck, and feeling her twitch once below you, you adjusted yourself over her cock and rubbed your throbbing, wet slit down her length, not letting it go inside. You remember the first time you did that, before she ever went inside you with the new strap, and she had prematurely came. She had been so embarrassed, taking off the cum-filled condom and tearing the strap off of her and getting up, but you’d found it so hot. You loved having this control over her. You loved knowing that you held this power over her, that you could make her cum so easily, that she desired you so much that she found it hard to even have any control. You wanted to tease her constantly, to degrade her and embarrass her by using her desire for you against her.

Wanda’s sleepy breaths hitched as you rubbed your warm, wet folds up and down her length, leaving a wet, sticky trail on the strap. She shifted under you, turning her head back to the other side. Her eyebrows creased deeper, her face contorting into a look of neediness as she subconsciously bucked her hips, pushing herself harder onto you. Chuckling, you gave her one last kiss on her neck before sitting up fully, unable to control yourself anymore. You wanted to get what you truly wanted out of her before she woke up.

Your breathing growing heavier, along with the rain pattering much harder on the window outside, you lined Wanda’s cock up with your entrance, letting it sit there pressed against it for a moment. You took a deep breath—her size still surprised you, and you still needed to relax and prepare yourself before taking her in. Thanks to the blowjob and how wet you were, there was enough lubrication for you to lower yourself down on her cock, feeling her slide right in and stretch your walls around her.

“Fuck,” you whispered as you stopped halfway, feeling a tinge of pain. Wanda shifted beneath you, which didn’t help, so you just took another deep breath and basically slammed yourself down on her, Wanda’s entire cock ramming deep inside you.

As if on cue, right as you let out a louder shriek than you meant to because of the way her cock hit your cervix, Wanda also let out a sleepy form of a moan, her head swaying to the side as her legs shifted under the blankets below you.

Placing your hands on her shoulders, you stayed still and felt her throb inside you as she squirmed, watching her eyes scroll side to side behind her eyelids. Biting your lip, you slowly lifted yourself off halfway before coming back down again, nearly seeing stars when she hit your deepest point again.

It was obvious that doing this wasn’t going to keep her asleep for much longer. She was still moving, eyelids fluttering, lips twitching as if trying to speak between her growing breaths. She was breathing faster now, redness blooming on her cheeks.

There was no point in being careful now. Grinding your teeth together, you rolled your hips, throwing your head back as she hit your sweet spot in your lower tummy. She was so big that her cock was basically all you could feel as you rode her, feeling pure pleasure bloom inside you as you anticipated the ending you were dreaming about.

“Mmmm-nnnn” Wanda murmured as she squirmed more beneath you, kicking at the sheets covering her feet and arching her back. “Ahhh…” She was starting to come to, being lured by your actions into an in-between state between sleeping and waking. She was arching her back off the bed and bucking her hips up into you, natural instinct to have more friction and be as close to you as possible coming through.

Power filled you as you stared down at the helpless witch, her cock lodged deep inside you, throbbing as you bounced on it. You bit the tip of your tongue and squeezed her shoulders, digging your nails into her skin as you rode her cock.

The feeling of your nails in Wanda’s skin was the one thing that brought her into awareness. Her eyelashes fluttered, mouth dropping open. Finally, her eyes opened fully, exposing those pretty irises that were usually green but were now a deep, sleepy crimson red from the magic she was subconsciously using.

A grin slashed across your own face, your tummy filled with excitement as you watched the look of confusion on Wanda’s once peaceful face. This was the second moment you were anticipating the most. Her eyebrows contorted in confusion as she stared up at you, her eyes blank with dumb sleepiness at first as her mouth let out heavy breaths. Then she blinked a few times, her eyes falling down over your body and to her own. She saw her cock, glistening with wet, appear halfway with every other bounce you made. She watched it appear as you lifted up, and then disappear again as you slapped yourself down on her lap.

Then she felt it. The tight, wet warmth. The squeezing of your walls around her. The more textured parts around your cervix, how much warmer and tighter you felt the deeper she was. Your lips smushed against the base of her cock when you had her fully inside. The ridges of your cunt massaging her length as you jerked up and down on her, the friction feeling like a white hot flame of pleasure with each stroke.

Her mouth fell open wider with a loud, startled moan, her hands immediately slapping onto your hips and holding them. “Baby!” she exclaimed in surprise, trying to blink the bleariness out of her eyes as you continued fucking yourself on her.

You giggled at her reaction, how she was confused but so turned on and so obviously overwhelmed by the feeling of you milking her cock as soon as she woke up, this being the very first thing her consciousness experienced this rainy morning. You felt her cock swell a little inside you, now that she was awake with her magic.

Her breathing turned into gasps, her eyes squeezing shut as she hissed through her teeth, her hips trembling as you slammed down onto them. “Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck,” she croaked, her voice sleepy and husky and burning hot in your ear.

“I always wanted to wake you up like this,” you whispered, scratching down her chest and over her nipples, causing her to let out the cutest little high-pitched whimper.

“Fuck,” was all she could whisper, holding your hips as they bounced up and down on her length.

You could see the sweat breaking on her forehead, the flush in her cheeks, the way her tummy tightened under your palm. She was getting close.

“D-Did you use prot-protection?” Wanda stammered, her brown hair starting to stick to her temples. She knew the answer. She could feel it, but she needed to ask anyway.

Chuckling, you let out a pornographic moan just to make her shudder and then said, “Nope.”

Wanda’s eyes widened a little in panic. She could already feel herself leaking a little, or maybe it was just your wetness, which was also dripping down her shaft and onto her thighs. Through the slight panic in your eye you could see the desperation, the idea she always dreams about sitting right there in her brain.

You purposefully clenched, and she bit her lip and threw her head back, her body lifting off the bed as she pushed herself into you. You gasped at the depth but used your strength to pin her hips back down to the bed.

“Baby,” she breathed, her eyes barely open. “Baby, get up.” Her voice grew breathy with quickness. “I’m gonna cum. Get up.” She slapped your hip a few times to make you get up, but you kept riding her.

“No,” you purred, leaning down closer to her face and smirking. “You can easily push me off if you want to.” You watched her, struggling to keep her eyes open, her body moving with your bouncing, look up at you with such a strong mix of horror and desire on her face. You waited, but she only continued to struggle beneath you, not making any effort to use her magic or strength to push you off. “So why don’t you?”

Wanda whined, throwing her head back and closing her eyes as if just looking at you was going to make her bust. Her nails dug into your hips as she trembled, looking like the pleasure was turning into pain as you continued to ride her. There was no way she would actively deny you. She could stop herself all she wanted when it was her in control, but if you were going to take it from her, she couldn’t not acquiesce.

“Baby, please,” she murmured through gritted teeth, tears forming in the corners of her eyes from the struggle to keep herself from cumming. You knew she could stop it if she wanted to—you didn’t have her physically wrangled, and even if you did, her magic could put an end to it immediately. “Please, get up, I can’t hold it.”

Grinning, you slam your hand over her throat, and she gasps, choking slightly as you squeeze her throat. “You’re so cute like this,” you whisper, “Begging me to stop. You’re the one who can’t control yourself.”

Tears were falling down her cheeks now. “Please, please,” she begged, her eyes squeezed shut. “Please, baby, I can’t—I can’t hold it—I’m gonna cum, fuck, please…”

“Do it. Give me all your cum,” you hiss, riding her harder to the point where the bedframe slams against the wall. Wanda, choking on the pressure of your hand around her throat, trembled and violently twitched below and inside you as she tried her hardest to hold it. But she was hot to the touch, and so were you, and your cunt felt so good squeezing around her cock, and you were taking complete advantage of her which she found to be so hot, and she hadn’t been able to stop dreaming about breeding you for weeks now, and it was all too much for her to even stop it.

“Fuck, baby, fuck, get off, I’m gonna… fuck, fuck fuck!”

Wanda’s nails dug into your hips as her words turned into incoherent babbles, her mouth falling wide open and her body lifting completely off the bed as she finally lost all control. You tried to watch her as long as you could, but your eyes fluttered closed when finally you felt her cock give one last hard twitch before loads of her burning hot cum went gushing deep inside you, splashing the wall of your cervix and filling your tummy all up.

The feeling made you cum, shivering on top of her and squeezing around her which only prolonged her orgasm even more. Wanda saw flashing images of you pregnant, which had been fueling what she thought was fear for weeks now, but she was learning just now that that fear was pure fetish. She tugged your hips down onto her and pushed herself as deep inside you as possible as she loaded you with her cum, surprising you with her strength as she kept you in a complete hold.

After a few moments, when she had filled you with all she had to give, which was a shocking amount this time because of how long she had held it, and you were limp against her chest, recovering from your own orgasm, Wanda finally relaxed, letting go of your hips and closing her eyes.

“Fuck,” she breathed, panting as sweat rolled down her tear-streaked face. You were quiet for a minute, relishing the feeling of a full tummy of Wanda’s cum, her cock throbbing gently in your cunt. You were so glad she’d enchanted that strap.

Finally, you hummed, looking up at her. She looked dazed and fuzzy-minded, her eyes hooded and cheeks blushing red from embarrassment. She sighed and grinned sheepishly, placing her hands over her face. You smirked. “That was a lot better than cumming on my tits, right?”

Wanda breathed. “Well, good morning to you, too.”

[iinthehexcore]

little mouse

Silco saved you in the bar a while ago. It was only fitting that you returned that favor.

content: SLIGHTLY suggestive toward the end, talk of weapons, sequel to 'the last drop', tagging a few of the people who asked for a p2, 1825 words

an: happy christmas to all who celebrate! hope you guys like this, enjoy!

⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

"Hey, Mouse."

You stood up from your crouching position, placing a glass on the bar top. Sevika came in, a lit cigarette on the corner of her mouth as she let out a sigh, plopping down on one of the seats. Over the months, the two of you had became some sort of friends. Now, Sevika was a closed off person to begin with, not trusting you even one bit, but after seeing you work and defend your people, she warmed up to you. Ever since that one moment where you sneaked behind a man to steal back the bottle of booze that he had taken from the bar, she called you Mouse. Silent, but gets the job done.

"Rough day?"

The woman in front of you hummed, inhaling the smoke before turning her head, blowing it back out. Her favorite liquor was already set in a place where it was easy for you to grab. You dropped an ice cube into the glass, filling it up before pushing it her way. She thanked you, downing the entire thing as she groaned.

"Finn wants to meet with Silco today."

You raised an eyebrow, topping up her glass again before screwing the cap back on, placing it on the shelf right beside you. Some of the droplets that had spilled got neatly wiped up with your rag as you tossed it on the counter.

"What does Finn want with him?"

Sevika knew you didn't like the man either. It was something you bonded over. His exaggerated confidence annoyed the both of you, together with his lame attempts on trying to get Sevika on his side, and trying to get you in his bed. You knew not to fully piss the man off though. At least, not without Silco knowing first.

"Can trust you, can't I, Mouse?"

"Sevika," you sigh, "I quite literally cleaned blood off of the tables just so Silco wouldn't know that you beat that drunk guy up. Yes, you can."

She raised an eyebrow, the slightest smirk on her face as she sipped from her cup.

"Heard something about him wanting to overthrow Silco. Wants to be the most powerful Chembaron in Zaun."

It made you roll your eyes.

"He always bites off more than he can chew. He came to you?"

She hummed and nodded, swirling the ice cube in the glass. It made you chuckle as you glanced at the door, seeing the rest of the pub still empty.

"So he is still stupid enough to think you will betray Silco," you sighed, "Finn needs to learn to keep his mouth shut. Not only better for us, but also better for him."

"I just hope he stays away from here. I can't be here tonight - Silco has me out on a job."

You grimaced, squinting your eyes before pouring yourself a glass of water. Silco had told you that you could drink as long as you knew how to handle yourself, but you felt much more confident in being completely sober. You never knew what could happen, not in the Zaun now.

A week ago, Silco gifted you something. He said that it was because you were so good at your job, but little did you know the real reason. The man, though not doubting your skills or confidence, was… scared. With nothing but some glass bottles and a tea towel to defend yourself, he knew you needed something. Thieram had a gun, Sevika had her whole arm, so, for you, he found another weapon. A knife, small and thin, hidden away on your belt. You wouldn't even need to kill someone, no. That was not what he wanted. It simply gave him some peace of mind to know that if something were to happen, you would have something to defend yourself with.

"Thieram and I can keep an eye out," you winked, sipping your water, "Highly doubt you will miss anything."

The small clock next to you made you realize it was already later than you thought. Normally, Silco would have been downstairs right now, sipping a drink before the crowd would get big before disappearing into his office.

"Well, I will see you later, then. Time for Silco's drink."

"Hmm," Sevika threw her head back, gulping down the rest of her drink before wiping her mouth, "See you later, Mouse."

With a glass in one hand and the bottle in the other, you walked up the stairs, knocking on the door before you heard a 'come in'. Behind the door sat Silco, annoyed look on his face. On his desk laid a map and a lit cigar rested on the dish that Jinx had painted for him.

"Care for a drink?"

"Gladly," he groaned.

You quietly closed the door behind you, placing the gold-rimmed glass on his desk. Neither of you exchanged words, but it didn't feel necessary. The liquor splattered against the glass as you filled it up, closing the bottle again and stepping back.

"Expecting any guests?"

"Thankfully not."

"Well… If you need another drink, let me know."

He hummed in return, raising the glass to his lips as you left again. It seemed that in the few minutes that you were gone, the bar had filled up, and Thieram had arrived. He was busy making drinks as you greeted him with a smile, placing Silco's bottle back before pouring glasses.

Half an hour. That was how long you were able to just simply do your job. An odd character here and there trying to flirt with you before drunkenly walking off, drinks spilled, Thieram having to scold some idiots. You smiled at the woman in front of you as you handed her the drink, your gaze falling to the door behind her that opened and closed. In walked Finn, his golden jaw shimmering in the dim light. It made you raise an eyebrow - Silco wasn't expecting anyone today.

Instinctively, you looked to the booth to your left before remembering that Sevika wasn't here for the evening. But, what in the hell was Finn doing here? On his own, too. The man was nothing without at least one person by his side. You wiped the counter, your eyes following the figure as Finn walked up the stairs, disappearing from your sight.

"Thieram, I will be right back."

Your hand reached for Silco's bottle, the other one patting your hip to make sure that you had the knife with you. Maybe Finn was just there being harmless, but when has he not tried to pull some tricks? Worst case you have to pour both of them a drink. And so, after pushing yourself through the crowd, you sneaked up the stairs. No trace of Finn.

Stopping in front of the door, you paused. It was hard to hear if anything was being said as the crowd was rather loud, but you could hear the low humming of Silco's voice. Then, a louder voice, one dripping in forced confidence. You slowly opened the door, bottle held in your hands as if a weapon, before peeking in. There, Finn with a blade in his hand, standing right in front of Silco. Your boss must have been sitting down as you only saw his legs peek out from under the desk, but with Finn puffing his chest, it was hard to see anything.

Softly, you closed the door behind again, sneaking closer and closer.

"Today is the day you die, Silco."

You peeked past Finn's legs, seeing Silco sigh before putting his hand on his head. It seemed like neither men had noticed you. Finn tightened the grip on the blade, a sly smirk on his face.

"That's a risk I've known all my life."

With that, you jumped up, raising the bottle high above your head before smashing it down on Finn's cheek. He let out a surprised gasp as he stumbled to the floor, blood trickling down his eye as you slipped your knife out of the holster, holding it against Finn's neck.

"Day you die, Finn?"

Silco, who already had his hand on the holster of his pistol, looked at you confused, though he knew now was not the time. He cocked it, aiming it at Finn. The loud thuds and breaking glass seemed to catch quite some attention as Sevika burst in, metal arm nearly breaking off the door. She had just finished her job, wanting to let Silco know it was all done, stains still on her metal arm.

There, you on top of Finn with a knife to his throat, Silco with a gun aimed at the very same man, and a blade laying too far away for Finn to reach.

"Sevika, perfect moment," Silco pushed back his hair, his shoulders dropping before pointing to the man on the floor, "Surely you can take care of him?"

It seemed like all her dreams came true as she grinned. Oh, she can. She grabbed him by the neck as you stepped off of him, huffing as Sevika dragged him away. To where? You had no idea, but you did not doubt Sevika's skills.

"Well, well, well, little Mouse."

You averted your gaze back to Silco who only looked at you with what seemed to be an amused grin. He placed his gun back on his desk, one hand on his hip before gesturing.

"Quite a spectacle there. Care to explain?"

He moved one of the chairs back for you before sinking down on his own, taking a hit of his cigar. You sat on the chair in front of him, placing the blade right next to his pistol.

"I wasn't going to kill him. Don't think I could, no matter how annoying he is," you sighed, "I just… You said that there were no meetings today, and Finn showing up when Sevika wasn't supposed to be here seemed like much more than a mere coincidence. I didn't mean to come in without knocking, Silco."

"No," he tutted, "No apologies. I believe in loyalty more than a closed door, Mouse."

He swirled the ice around in his cup, looking at the broken glass and spilled liquor on the wooden floor.

"Such a shame we wasted this on an... idiot like Finn."

You snorted, shaking your head.

"Sorry. If it turned out he was here to make peace, then at least I could have poured you both a drink."

"You know, Mouse," Silco hummed, his fingers tracing the rim of the glass, "I never understood why you were called that. Mouse."

He placed emphasis on your nickname, glancing up at you.

"Sevika called you Mouse, and so did I. Surely there had to have been a reason for it. But now, I have seen it first hand," he nodded, "Didn't even see you sneak in. Finn surely didn't expect it."

You looked up at him, tilting your head.

"I can be quiet if I wish to."

"A handy skill indeed," hummed Silco, placing his glass on his desk, "Care to see how quiet we can be, little Mouse?"

⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @nottherealamber @sevikashimmerstrap

[sapphicbb]

RIGHT HERE — paige bueckers

≋ pairing → p. bueckers x danceteammember!reader

≋ song → right here by justin bieber ft. drake

≋ warnings → fluff, angst, another situationship… sorry yall i can’t get enough!, background lore: exes turned friends turned situationship, mentions of sex (not smut), use of y/n, not edited sorry!!

≋ word count → 3.5k

≋ notes → if anyone is reading this i hope you enjoyoyy! oh also heads up all my stories are gonna be black and/or latina coded reader unless stated otherwise!! ngl this was supposed to be longer but I cut off the whole ending section sorry not my best work at allll … anywho love my wife pookie bear paige sm

your head on paige’s chest, her warm protective hold envoloped you as she watched you sleep. you looked so peaceful, which paige loved, because when you first came over to her dorm that evening you had looked the most stressed she had seen you in the past few months.

she was happy that she was still one of the few people you went to when you needed to decompress and vent about your day, as you were hers. she subconsciously drew light circles into your side as her eyes slowly blinked, fighting the craving for sleep that was overcoming her senses.

not long after her quiet snores were heard along with your light breathes. but of course this didn't last for long. almost fifteen minutes later, a repeating series of knocks were heard on the door. paige groaned and squeezed her eyes shut, ignoring the knocking.

“i know you hear me knocking.” kk’s voice was heard from the other side, causing your eyes to flutter open. your attempts to remove yourself from paige’s hold were unsuccessful as she pulled you in closer—if that was even possible.

“if we ignore her long enough she’ll go away.” paige whispered with her eyes still shut. you lightly laughed at her words. “paige that's mean, i’m gonna go say hi.” you tried to unlatch her arms from around your waist but she wouldn't budge. “no, stay here with me and go back to sleep.”

she pressed your head back against her chest, urging you to go back to sleep which made you laugh. “as much as i would love to keep sleeping on your boobs, i haven't seen kk since the last game.” paige sucked her teeth at your words and slightly opened her eyes to look down at your giddy smile.

“hey kk!” you loudly called out to the girl on the other side of the door. “oh shit, y/n’s here? hey y/n, girl!” she drew out, the smile on her face was evident in her voice. “wait a second, why y'all not answering the door? better not be up to no freaky deaky shit… y'all decent?” paige began to laugh, causing you to finally break from her hold and softly hit her shoulder.

“yeah, wait a minute.” you removed the covers from both of you and got off of the bed, but before you could fully begin moving towards the door, paige pulled you by the waist band of her pajama pants that you were wearing and turned you back around.

before you could say anything, she sat up and fixed your tank top that had ridden down. you thanked her before and proceeding to the door. “ah hell nah, y'all taking too lo-” you cut off the girl standing in front of the door when you opened it. “we were just taking a nap.” you explained while moving to hug the girl.

“well, i’m sorry for waking y'all up.” she stated, taking a minute to fake think before laughing. “i lied, i’m not even a little sorry.” you waved her off and moved back to paige’s bed, sitting down and watching the girl who welcomed herself in.

paige sat against the headboard, her gaze also on kk. “why'd you even come knocking?” the blonde questioned, hands folded against her torso. “i was thinking about going on a target run but didn't want to go alone.” she explained with a shrug, doing the chill guy stance.

you laughed and patted paige’s knee. “you should go with her.” she furrowed her brows, looking you up and down. “you’re not coming?” you shook your head and laid back.

“i’ve been meaning to chit chat with my cutie pie azzi.” you excused, stretching before turning your head to the blonde girl who was side eyeing you. “i’ll be waiting in the living room.” kk called out in a sing-song voice while leaving the room.

paige sighed and threw her legs over the side of the bed. “thank you for letting me vent to you.” you thanked her as you watched her get up from the bed and walk to her closet. “you know you don't gotta thank me for that. plus, my offer still stands.” you laughed at her remark and sat up.

it was almost immediately after dance practice ended that you texted paige and asked to come over. you had been crying and your face was all puffy, but you didn't care at that point. she's seen you look worse.

when you showed up, she instantly took you into a hug and brought you to her room where you the words just flowed out your mouth. today's practice was extra stressful and you felt that the dance captain, emily, was specifically picking on you all practice.

there was a section of a new dance the coach had just started teaching and before emily even fully learned it herself, she started picking at the little mistakes you made. that irritated you, but you let it be.

she kept on making sly indirect comments towards you, but you let it be. it wasn't until after practice when you were grabbing your duffle bag from the corner of the practice room when you heard her talk to the coach, trying to convince her that you needed to be kicked off the team.

that was when you felt your eyes glossing over. you knew you were a damn good dancer, maybe even one of the best on the team, but you also knew the power she had over the coach. her word was stronger than yours.

what also confused you was the fact that she hadn't acted like that towards you until about two weeks ago. paige offered to have her and the girls go jump the girl but you instantly declined. she then offered to just confront her for you, but you turned her down because you wanted to fight your own battles.

“thank you p, but it's still a no.” you replied, watching her skim through her closet to find a hoodie. “i’m just saying at the next game if i see her moving weirdly, i’m gonna say something. i know how you are and you're too nice to tell her all that she needs to hear.” paige casually stated with a shrug, grabbing a green hoodie from out of the closet and throwing it over her head.

you sighed and leaned back on your elbows. “paige, i’m serious, don't do anything.” your gaze followed her travelling figure until she stood in between your legs. “i’m serious, too. she can't just walk all over you like that.” she held serious, yet delicate, eye contact with a tone of finality in her voice.

you let out a dramatic sigh and broke eye contact as it got to strong. “yo, stop looking at me like that.” she let out a boisterous laugh at your words, loving the impact her simple eye contact had on you. “alright,” she hummed before continuing, “were continuing our nap when I get back. text me if you want anything.”

she leaned down, softly grabbing the back of your neck as she laid a few pecks on your smiling lips. you pulled her down for one last kiss, lasting a bit longer before playfully pushing her away. “okay, now go before kk gets bothered by how long you're taking.” you shooed her away, watching her slip on a pair of crocs and grab her keys and wallet with a goofy grin on her face.

she waved goodbye and exited the room. after a few seconds you hear the faint sound of kk saying “finally!” and let out a couple of laughs before getting off the bed. you slid on the slippers paige had for you when you would come over and left the room, making your way down the hall to azzi’s room.

you melodically knocked on the door, leaning back and forth as you waited for azzi to answer. “come in!” you faintly hear from the other side before opening the door. “hey, cutie pie.” you drew out with a smile, walking into the room and draping your arms around the girl who sat at her desk.

“boo bear!” she exclaimed with a smile as she hugged you back. the two of you have always called each other affectionate names like cutie pie and boo bear due to an inside joke.

you unraveled your arms around azzi before walking over to and falling backwards onto her bed, lightly kicking off your slippers. “when did you get here?” she asked, leaving the roblox obby she had been previously playing and giving you her full attention.

“a while ago, but i was with paige.” you explained, changing your position so that you were laying on your stomach, head propped atop your hands as you looked at the girl who twirled her chair in your direction. “oh? how’s that going?” she said with a sly smile, rolling her chair closer to her bed.

you let out a dramatic sigh and shifted your head onto one arm. “to be honest, it’s definitely… going! why? has she said anything to you?” you tried to be casual with your response, but the eager tone slipped through at the end.

“ice and i have been trying to get info from her but she's been so hard to read, so we were hoping to get something out of you…” azzi lengthened her words, lightly poking your cheek and watching you let out a groan.

you watched the curly haired girl get up from her chair and plop down on the bed next to you. “who does she think she is? the riddler? like we do basically almost everything we did when we were in a relationship, but we’re not back together…?” your brows furrowed as you felt yourself growing irritated with the girl who wasn't even present.

azzi rose a brow at your remark, almost instantly causing you to hold a hand up in her direction. “before you even say anything, no, we haven't had sex since we've broken up. she respects my rule and hasn't purposefully tried anything.” azzi let out an understanding hum and nodded.

when you and paige began getting “comfy” with one another again, you had set a rule—which you often found yourself regretting—of not having sex unless you guys get back together. there has been moments where the two of you almost succumbed to the desires, but one of you always pulled back.

when you had first told azzi and ice about the rule during a gossip sesh, ice called you boring for it and azzi said that it was a responsible thing to do. “at this point, just ask her out.” azzi declared, letting out a sigh of defeat at your immediate head shake.

“absolutely not. i was the one that asked her out when we were together and then she was the one who called things off. i will never be embarrassed like that again. if she doesn't ask me out, we’ll never get back together. i’ll just wait it out, i’m a very patient girl.” you retorted in a single breath watching azzi’s eyes roll.

“i’m going to have to smack some sense into the two of you if you guys don't get back together within the next month.” azzi sternly stated but the playfulness was visible within her eyes. you laughed at her comment and rolled on your back.

“oh, so you think i’m joking?” azzi followed up and crossed her arms. “no, not at all.” you quickly responded, wiping the smile off your face. azzi laughed at your switch up and patted your knee.

after a good twenty minutes of being lost in conversation, the two of you heard some knocks on the door. at this point, the two of yo were both laying on your backs, too comfortable to get up. “come in!” azzi called out, both of your eyes glued to the door.

an upside-down perspective of paige came into view as she walked through the doorframe. “i’m here to kidnap y/n for our scheduled sleep sesh.” she announced while walking closer to where you and azzi laid.

you groaned as you felt paige pull you up from the comfortable position you were in. she tapped her foot as she waited for you to fully stand up and put the slippers back on. after doing so she grabbed your hand and led you to the door.

“if you get bored from hanging out with miss snooze fest, you know where to find me!” azzi called out with a teasing smile as she saw paige roll her eyes. “azzi, shut up!” she said in response, causing you to laugh.

“ladies, ladies, there's enough of me to go around.” paige side eyed you as soon as the words escaped your mouth, fully pulling you out of the room and closing the door behind you.

─�� ⟢ ・⸝⸝

you angled your phone to capture you and two of your teammates in a pre-game selfie, each one of you posing with one of your white poms. after taking a couple of pictures, a notification from paige popped up at the top of your phone.

you quickly brought your phone down, but not fast enough for your teammates not to see. “oh my god, finally!” you heard one of them, deborah, exclaim, turning to see both of them with wide smiles on their faces.

“we needed the two of you to get back together.” the other one, taylor, followed up with an overdramatized sigh of relief, holding a hand to her heart. you shook your head at their silliness, “we’re not back together.” you turned down their claims, earning dismissive waves.

“whatever you say but your girl wanted to see you before the game.” deborah sang, slightly shaking your shoulders as a smile teased at the corner of your lips. “yeah, and you better go up to her before emily makes a move.” taylor urged with her deadly gaze locked on the girl approaching a certain blonde baller across the hall.

“oh hell no.” deborah looked between your facial expression, which wasn’t expressing much, and the scene at the end of the hall before moving to charge towards them. taylor grabbed her after she took a couple steps and put her behind the two of you.

“y/n, you better go see whats going on over there before deb does it for you.” taylor informed with raised eyebrows, keeping an arm around deborah who was mad for you. you sucked your teeth and put a hand on your hip.

“trust me, emily is not a threat… if there was anything to be threatened.” you promptly followed up with as you watched the smiles slide onto their faces. “okay, period, loving this security in your relationship. but you know how emily is. she won't stop until she gets what she wants.” taylor spoke as you drifted your gaze back over to the two women across the hall.

you ran your tongue against your bottom lip, thinking over your options on what to do in that moment. “i guess it wouldn't hurt to go see whats going on. i mean technically paige wanted me over there anyways.” your two teammates quietly cheered, deborah hopping and taylor clapping.

you playfully shushed them and gave taylor your pom to hold before walking down what seemed to be the longest hallway. once you got closer you could more vividly see paige’s bored facial expression and emily’s hand reaching towards the girl’s arm.

you could almost laugh at the scene, quickening your step until you were right next to the pair. “hey, paige, emily.” you made your presence known, illiciting a genuine smile and a look of relief from paige, but a look of disdain and a feigned smile from emily.

“y/n, hey!” emily dragged out with an eeringly fake bubbily voice, bringing you into a tight hug. you hesitantly hugged back, taking the opportunity to side eye paige who was trying to discretely hide her amused smile behind her hand.

“paige and i were just having a private chat…” she added after you pulled away, her hand moving to touch paige’s arm but the girl simultaneously moved it away, rubbing the back of her neck.

you swallowed the laugh down and moved your gaze between their faces. “don't know about ‘private’, but yeah emma was just talking to me.” paige reworded, purposefully getting the girl’s name wrong.

you couldn't restrain the small curl at the corner of your lips, seeing how emily’s eye slightly twitched at paige’s words. she tried to play it off with a chirpy giggle and run a hand through her hair. “emily, you mean?” you asked paige with a feigned expression of confusion. you knew exactly what she was doing and she knew it.

“emma, emily, whatever is fine.” emily brushed it off, faintly narrowing her eyes as she began to turn toward you. “y/n… are you ready for today? i know how you can get.” she put a hand on your arm, offering a look of concern that the naked eye would believe was genuine but anyone with context would know was fake.

“never been more ready.” you offered her a sickly sweet smile, placing your hand on top of hers that laid on your arm before removing it. “yeah, she got it.” paige affirmed with a toothy smile, wrapping her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into her side.

emily’s smile dimmed as her gaze flickered to paige’s arm wrapped around your shoulder. “cute. didn't know the two of you were… close again.” she shifted her weight onto her other foot, making an effort to keep her poker face.

“mhm, yeah. oh, emily! i think i heard coach was looking for you…” you smoothly lied, causing her to stand up straight. “thanks, i guess i’ll go look for her.” she thanked you before trailing her eyes to paige.

“bye paige, good luck today.” she gave the blonde a sweet smile accompanied by a flirtatious wave, twirling on her feet before walking back down the hall she came from. paige took no time to lead you around the corner into an empty room.

“bye paige, good luck today.” you teased with a smile, resulting in the blonde playfully rolling her eyes and letting out a chuckle. “see how I held back?” she smartly questioned with a brow raise.

you endearingly rolled your eyes and placed yourself in front of the girl. “thank you for that. i know that took a lot in you.” she hummed, crossing her arms and nodding at your words.

“but i promise you, if it even looks like she's disrespecting you at today's game…” she took a moment to comfortably wrap her arms around you. “i know, p. i know.” you saw the way she searched your eyes for any signs of doubt in her innuendo.

“all the dots connected, though.” you informed, watching the confused look that formed on the girl’s face. “she wants you bad.” you enunciate with a shrug, pointing out the obvious. “she told you that?” paige rose her eyebrows in amusement at your claim.

“she didn't have to, it’s so obvious. that's why she's been dogging on me at practice.” you explained, earning a slow nod from paige. “she’s been doing all that just for me not to like her back. insane…” paige drew out with a shoulder shaking laugh.

you let out a small laugh and shook your head. “mhm, and why is that?” you pried, holding eye contact with paige as she slowly swung the two of you side to side. “other than her being a bitch? i got my eye on someone else.” she disclosed with a guileful smile, her gaze flickering down to your lips.

“oh, really?” she hummed a confirmation at your follow up question. “lucky, lucky girl.” the sound of your phone vibrating disrupting the brewing tension that filled the room. with a loud sigh, paige unraveled her arms around you, allowing you to check your phone.

a text from taylor displayed on the notification hub, informing you that your coach was calling for the whole team. “ i gotta go. meet afterwards?” you questioned and paige immediately agreed.

“duh, of course. you better cheer extra loud for me too.” playfully side eyed as you made your way towards the door. “i’ll think about it. drop a calm twenty for me?” you replied with your hand on the handle.

“i was gonna drop twenty regardless, but i guess i could do that for you.” paige feigned a nonchalant tone, grinning at how you blew her a kiss before fully exciting the room.

once the door fully closed she shook her head, the smile still evident as she wiped her hands down her face. its safe to say she dropped twenty-seven points for you.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

[beomie3]

night lounge - cbg

☆ summary: the nights spent at your favorite night lounge are everything you could ever need. until one night, you stumble upon a man that makes you rethink.

☆ wc: roughly 4k

☆ content: slow burn smut, beomgyu is a gentleman in a jazz band, light bondage (he uses his tie to fasten your wrists), light drinking, cursing, unprotected, lots of kissing :p, fluffy ending, he’s dominant in this <3

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

your favorite late-night lounge lies hidden in the underground of a ritzy hotel amidst the city; candlelit and cozy, black silk sofas and a bar equipped with all the drinks for a perfect night.

it'd been your nighttime getaway ever since you discovered it accidentally one night. you haven't found a place quite as unique as it.

you just can't get over the smooth jazz band that plays in it's designated corner every saturday night at sundown when you arrive. the blend is perfect to the ear; smooth saxophone, soft drums, pretty piano, and sometimes a bassist who would join in at midnight and play well into 3 a.m. which is usually when you decide you're satisfied with your night and head home. which to be frank, it's hard to decide when to leave when it's your comfort place. it simply couldn't get better.

or so you thought.

you sat at the usual velvet barstool under the star-shaped chandelier, taking in the ambiance of the dreamy lounge as always. the subtle murmur of guests and clinks of glasses filling the room, dim with dainty light fixtures and flicker of candles in small glass jars at every table.

dried flowers, fairy lights, and classical paintings adorned the walls in such a beautiful way that made you feel nostalgic. like a museum in paris had been turned into a swanky hangout.

if you could describe the place in one word it would be; classy. no, elegant. no.. dreamy. there were just so many attributes to describe your favorite place, you couldn't begin to put your finger on one.

the peace you felt here while sipping red wine or a cocktail while listening to the smooth blend of instruments from the live ensemble was unmatched to any other place ever, like your own little neverland that you escaped to at nightfall.

the bartender you knew well had just placed a tall glass of chardonnay in front of you, setting tonight's mood as you relax under the liquid's musky yet enjoyable flavor.

cozying into the velvet seat, you shifted your attention back to the band, also paying mind to the people subtly beginning to fill the lounge as the night commenced; observing different groups of friends or couples who entered in intricate outfits, most faces familiar to you. admittedly, people watching was a pastime you fairly enjoyed.

but suddenly there appeared the face of a man you had yet to see, noticing his tall figure immediately as he came down the steps with a certain presence that radiated nothing but confidence and poise.

maybe it was the all-black suit he wore or the way his feathered ebony hair parted over his eyes in such a way that made you stare, following his every step into the warm glow of the lounge.

you wondered if he'd come here all along, or if he was simply a figment of your imagination after only two sips of your glass.

he's here for the same reason as you, it seems, as he briskly makes his way over to the bar.

noticing his approach you try your best to disregard him, acting as if you hadn't just watched his entire procession into the lounge.

"anyone sitting here, miss?" a sudden deep and breathy voice calls out from beside you, a dull pang at your stomach when you turn towards the man and realize how much more handsome he is up close. the way the dim light encapsulates his face, noticing the subtle gloss over his skin.

"you." you keep your wits about you, noticing the way the corner of his lip tugs upward when he nods toward you. swiftly taking the seat.

you turn and face the jazz ensemble again, tongue in cheek as you can feel his warmth beside you, trying your best to seem unfazed by his presence. 

although your eyes are on the band, your ears are keen to his thick voice as he orders; a gin martini on the rocks and a side of lime, please. oh and put the jazz band on my tab while you're at it.

you nearly whip your head around at the sound of his request to put the jazz band on his tab. regardless, there were only four members but still...you were in shock and mostly intrigued. it isn't an act of kindness you'd usually hear at the bar.

the waiter gets to work on his drink and your eyes drift to him like a magnet drawn to metal; his mystery, you just wanted to freeze time and observe him.

once your eyes were on him you just couldn't resist the question that lingered on the tip of your tongue.

"do you know the jazz band?" you circle the rim of your glass with a finger, his chocolate eyes immediately boarding into yours along with all of his attention.

"i do. or else there wouldn't be one," his smile slowly grows as yours does, sipping his drink as it arrives. keeping his eyes on you all the while. he's only spoken two sentences to you but you swear there is something about his aura you just can't get enough of.

although he kept his response short and sweet, you put two and two together and concluded that he founded the band or something of the sort. either way, you just couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"well then today is my lucky day," you bring your glass to your lips and he lets out a deep chuckle, setting his glass down with a smirk at you. eyes still glued to his while he briefly looks away to set his glass down, you try taking him all in; the tiny freckle on his cheek, the silver ring in his earlobe, his long eyelashes. he was almost unreal.

"choi beomgyu," he holds a hand out to you, impressed with how much of a gentleman he's been in not even the five minutes you'd spoken to him. sad how low your expectations were after how many royal douchebags you'd come across at this bar.

you state your name in response, taking his warm hand and resisting the urge to smile too big when he slightly bows his head toward you, eyes never leaving yours as he gently shakes your hand.

that wasn't until he brought the back of your hand to his lips like a prince to a princess, that your heart nearly beat out of your chest; simply carried away by his charm. you’d never been greeted this way.

"i take it you enjoy my band," he slowly releases your hand. "rare to see someone just sit. listen. enjoy the music." he slightly reclines, bringing his glass back to his plump lips with those deep brown eyes on you.

"saturday nights are always my favorite." you nod, slightly reclining in your seat too, mimicking his body language.

"i know." his smile slightly grows behind the rim of his glass, wondering how the hell he knows if you'd never met him in your life.

"and how is it that you know that?" you slightly tilt your head, crossing your legs toward him and narrowing your eyes in await for a response.

"velvet chair at the end of the bar under the star-shaped chandelier. it's your seat. how could i not know where the most beautiful woman in this place sits?"

you're good at not showing how flustered you are; legs tightly crossed together, cheek caught in between your teeth, biting back the biggest damn smile.

"saturday nights are my favorite too," he looks over at the band and it isn't until he makes a bass-playing gesture with his fingers that the puzzle pieces click.

he's the bassist that comes on the stage when the lights go dark at midnight with only candles and fairy lights left to illuminate the room as people slow dance. you thought his silhouette might have looked familiar when he came down the stairs, considering that was all you ever knew of him.

he chuckles at your reaction to it finally clicking within you, truly appreciating your deep love for his performances, as no one usually cares much.

you and choi beomgyu continued chatting the night away, and he can see deep in your eyes that you're passionate about what you talk about. he loved finding out that the girl he always keeps his eye on when he's on stage secretly always admired him and his work.

when the bartender comes around with refills, beomgyu only orders water, finding it rather refreshing that a man can control himself and find satisfaction in only one drink as you usually do.

at midnight when the lights dim, beomgyu leads you hand in hand to the front row of the stage, getting to watch his performance front and center. he loves seeing you so close, usually having to deal with watching you from afar when you sat at the bar.

he performs dried flower, your favorite song preformed by the band. you watch his fingers caress the strings, long and dainty, pretty fingers. clad in expensive rings. wrist dangling with dainty charm bracelets. he has a certain class that is hard to find in men, and you feel yourself falling for him every passing second.

hes so passionate when he plays; eyebrows slightly furrowed as he instinctively plucks every note just perfectly. you’re also keen to every woman staring at him when his solo comes, whispering and giggling amongst one another. you grin.

after, he steps down and joins you in the crowd, asking for your hand and the two of you slow dance to the soft jazz, your head in his chest as he carefully steps with you. he smells of soft cashmere, and that’s the last thing you take note of before you’ve fallen completely head over heels.

the lights dim a bit more, his face barely lit by the candles but you can still see the sparkle in his eyes. his gaze is soft, yet intense and your heart stops as his face inches closer.

before you know it, your lips are touching what feels like velvet pillows; his lips. your heart races, blood rushing to your face and he pulls you closer, feeling his chest press against yours.

his sweet kiss lingers on your lips. you must have a sweet tooth, because you’re craving more.

“how about we get out of here?” his eyes are so intense on yours, realizing your fingers had interlaced into his long ago as you slow danced.

your eyes say it all; both of your body language says it all. you can practically feel your body heat radiating through your silk dress. cheeks flushed as he guides you through the crowd and out into the cool night air.

the taxi ride to his place is tense as you sit hip to hip, his fingers tracing your palm and you can’t seem to take your eyes off of one another. the taxi driver is the only thing keeping him from saying some not so appropriate things out loud, so instead he whispers them in your ear and you’re a giggling mess.

his high rise apartment is classy like him; low lighting and wooden accents, a baby grand piano in the corner under a chandelier, record player and a vinyl collection. an array of basses and guitars adorning the living room. it reminds you of the lounge, in fact; classical paintings and candles and dried flowers on the dining room table.

the tension only builds and builds, until it snaps.

he does so much as put a record on and offer you a glass of wine before your lips are on each other’s again. messy makeout, fingers intertwined in hair. his fingers precisely unbuttoning his suit before sliding under your silk dress.

the two of you stumble toward his king bed and you help him loosen his tie but he ushers your hand away, swiftly removing it from himself.

you fall backwards on his bed, feeling the silk sheets fluff up around you, cold against your boiling skin. he stands between your legs, pulling you toward the edge of the bed toward him with hands hooked underneath your thighs.

“hands above your head,” his voice is husky, eyes dark as he towers over you. dark brown hair messy and fluffed over his forehead.

his demand makes you twice as soaked and you swear a puddle has formed between your legs. you do as he says, feeling the cold air waft against the sensitive skin of your under arms and you’re pelted with goosebumps.

“good girl,” his voice is low, eyes dark. his cock twitches in his pants as you had done what he said, leaning down to hold your hands in place. your eyes widen when he uses his black tie to begin tying your hands together above your head.

“is this okay?” he focuses intensely into your eyes as he makes several concise knots, his voice tender and genuine as you bite your lip. it’s more than okay.

“mhmm,” you moan into his lips as he kisses you, pressing his hips against your clothed heat, legs spread, wrapping around his torso.

you didn’t know what to expect from this choi beomgyu guy, but you could tell he was amazing in bed since the moment you met. he’s had you on edge, turned on since the moment he spoke. he really knows how to turn you the fuck on.

you’re completely out of control now, your wrists fastened tightly together by his tie but you love the feeling more than you ever expected.

he starts slow but increasingly gets more feral. starting by kissing your neck softly, he slips your silk dress off and blood rushes straight to his dick.

you’re wearing a lace bra, extremely see through so that he can see that your nipples are hard and poking out him. but what makes him nearly salivate; you’re not wearing any underwear.

well, you were wearing underwear earlier tonight at first arriving to the lounge, but you’d taken them off somewhere along the night.

“check your pocket,” you eyed the front pocket of his suit jacket and when he stuck his hand in it to discover a pair of lacy underwear, his tongue darts to wet his lips. he fought the urge to absolutely fuck the shit out of you right here right now.

“such a sneaky girl, hm?” he cocks his head to the side, the hint of a sly grin on his lips as he slides his suit jacket off, leaving him only his white button up shirt, yet it’s unbuttoned so that you can see his bare chest and torso peeking through. he pushes the sleeves up and runs his fingers through his feathered hair to expose his forehead briefly. he’s so unbelievably sexy.

his hands are a bit rougher on you now, gripping the fat of your hips as he tongue kisses you, so messy and wet and hot. trailing his lips all over your chest, he bites your nipples softly through the lace and it feels so fucking good. he makes a mess of his spit, kissing your body until his reaches your bare pussy, already drenched for him.

“already so fucking wet and i haven’t even done anything,” he groans at the sight of your wetness dribbling out and onto his sheets. he really can’t believe his eyes at how soaked you are, can’t stop thinking of how good you’re going to feel when he fucks you.

his lips are level with your lower ones and he stares up at you through fluffed bangs over his thick brows. you anticipate what his tongue will feel like inside of you, shuddering when his hot breath wafts against you. you’re so sensitive.

he supports your thighs with his hands, setting each of your feet to rest on the tops of his shoulders. you’re spread wide open for him so that he has the best view of your entirety.

he hasn’t even fucking done anything and you moan out, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat. just the air exuded from his nose when he breathes brushes against your clit and stimulates it.

his tongue finally traces over your bud and you whip your head back onto his memory foam mattress. you can’t do this; no, there’s far too much pleasure. you’d never been this sensitive with anyone in your life. you'd never been this turned on by anything.

when his lips attach to your clit and suck, your hands shoot into his soft hair, grabbing handfuls of it as you whimper loudly; slurping sounds and moans echoing throughout his bedroom. your sounds egg him on; cock twitching violently in his pants with every single one of your sweet sounds.

when he inserts two long fingers into you and curls them up to your g-spot, it’s over for you. it only takes about four strokes of his fingers until you’re spasming, fluttering intensely around his fingers and grinding yourself into his face. his moans vibrate against you. no one had ever made you finish this fast.

“god beomgyu you’re- so fucking good-,” you huff out of breath between words, heavy head thrown back, chest heaving. his ego is stroked yet again.

the recovery from your orgasm is fast as he is quick to kiss you, need prevalent in his veins as you feel fire in him with the way his lips devour yours.

you clench around nothing, squeezing his arms tightly as nervous shudders course through your veins. you need him.

“choi beomgyu,” you whisper against his lips and his hungry eyes board into yours, lips puffy and glossy; he’s looks way too hot right now. you lean up to whisper in his ear.

“fuck me,” your voice is quiet, desperate. hot breath seeping down his neck. he is done for. he's kept his composure this long. but there is always a point where he absolutely loses it.

he can’t wait any longer, swiftly unbuckling his belt and dropping his perfectly ironed black trousers down to his knees along with his boxers.

when his cock springs out, it slaps up against his abdomen with a heavy thud and your eyes widen. he’s got a big fucking dick. your throat bobs as you swallow down a bundle of nerves.

“holy shit,” you say under your breath but he hears you; dark smirk spreading across his lips. he looks down at himself, spreading the ooze of precum around his tip; a darkened pink shade with all of the blood flowing up to it.

since the moment you saw him walk through the door at the lounge tonight, you’ve wanted to fuck him. but the moment he saw you for the first time; oh he’s been wanting to fuck you for months.

"what was that darling?" he leans down to look into your eyes, tender touch against your cheek as he snakes a hand around your thigh and pulls it up so that your knee is up against your chest.

"hm?" his lips are inches away from yours, eyes dark and flicking down to your lips and back up into your eyes repeatedly. he throws your leg over his shoulder.

your heart strums against your ribs as you're anxious to take him, yet you can't wait.

"you can take me, right gorgeous?" he tilts his head and you can't process how beautiful he looks right now; soft, chandelier lights of his bedroom reflect from his big, brown doe-shaped eyes. your mauve lipstick smeared across his lips and chin. hair tousled back, revealing his perfect eyebrows and forehead. the sheen of sweat glimmering from his skin.

"i can take you," a small grin is on your lips as you fiddle with the end of his tie around your wrists, realizing that having your hands tied above your head has made you way more sensitive than normal.

looking down at the space in between the two of you, he rubs the tip of his cock up and down your folds, causing you to shudder. he places small kisses to your knee, as it's resting by his cheek.

you suck air through your teeth when you feel a slight stretch as he guides himself into you, going slow enough to get you adjusted to his tip. you keep your eyes locked as he slides the rest in little by little, moans growing louder as the stretch intensifies. looking down, you realize he's only half-way in and you look up at him, lip caught between his teeth.

the stretch is so intense, but not as intense as his eyes on yours, searching deep into your soul. his hands come up to fiddle with the knot of his tie around your hands, suddenly feeling it loosen and your hands are free. immediately, they fly into his hair, thumbs soft over the sides of his face. he untied them for this exact reason; to feel your intoxicating touch all over him.

suddenly, you feel his hips meet the back of your thigh, and that's when you know he's all the way in. your mouth is agape as he slowly begins moving in an out of you, crashing your lips back to his as the skin of his thighs begins to slap against yours.

his hands are busy on you; one palming your tits as the other hooked under your thigh to keep your leg situated atop his shoulder.

taking him raw feels so wrong but so right; the edge of his tip feels fantastic against your g-spot, thick veins massaging you just right. your arousal leaves a milky white ring around the base of his cock as he slams into you. he collects some, bringing it to your mouth, followed by crashing his lips to yours again so that you can both taste it together.

“you feel so fucking amazing,” he breaks the kiss to speak to you, followed by a moan as he slams as deep as he can into you. you’ve ajusted well at the is point that the pain has turned into pleasure. his soft whimpers in your ear were enough to make you even wetter, easing the process of being stretched out.

he shuts his eyes as you’re sucking him i’m so perfectly, so turned on by the squelch of your pussy every time he enters you. he fights back the urge to cum, but it’s so hard with how beautiful you look right now.

your face is contorted in pleasure, hair sprawled out all over his bed, shimmery sheen on your skin from a mixture of sweat, tits bouncing with every slam of his hips.

“god you’re taking it so well,” he groans against your neck, lifting your other thigh so that both of your legs are swung over his shoulders. he’s impressed by your flexibility as his chest is pressed against yours, realizing just how far he is leaned down against you.

his hips are rhythmic against yours, grinding himself into you, a good tactic to stimulate your clit with this pelvis. it’s like he’s a professional.

his name along with a mixture of curses leave your lips in drawn out moans as your nails dig into his back, the sound of his name nearly drives him insane and he fucks you harder.

you feel the familiar ache in your core with every thrust, and he already knows you’re close because of how much tighter you’ve become around him.

he’s a moaning mess, deep voice like honey in your ear as you suck him in even tighter now. he reaches down to thumb at your clit and you’re right there, right on the edge.

“harder beomgyu, fuck me harder!” you bite down on his shoulder, his hips slamming at a pace so fast that his bed is creaking so loud. your moans probably audible from outside his apartment at this point.

“you gonna cum for me? yeah? cum all over my cock sweetheart c’mon,” his voice is loud yet deep and husky. his eyebrows are furrowed together in pleasure, sweat dripping from his neck and onto your chest.

the slapping of skin is so loud now, and he gives you three precise thrusts before you completely combust.

your sporadic moans are not what tells him you’ve just finished, it’s the absolutely insane convulsions that he feels inside you, fluttering around him at what feels like 200 miles per hour.

it’s enough to push him right over the edge in an ínstense orgasm. he pulls out immediately, busting all over your tummy and angling it to get some on your chest and face. milky white all over you, and there’s a lot too.

he’s so god damn vocal as he cums, his head thrown back so that you can see his addams apple in full glory, bobbing up and down as he moans.

you wipe your chin of his cum and lick your fingers clean, addicted to his salty-sweet taste.

he looks so exhausted as his chest heaves, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. but he doesn’t lay down on the bed just yet; instead he walks to his bathroom, getting a towel to clean you up first like the gentleman he is.

he wipes his fluids off of you with a warm wash rag, tender eyes on your skin as he softly cleanses you. there is a soft quietness about the room, not awkward, soothing actually.

he helps you under his silk sheets once you’re all cleaned up and he snuggles under with you, propping his head up on his hand as he rubs small circles on your shoulder.

“i look forward to seeing you at every show,” his voice is soft, a tender smile on his lips. you love how calm he is, how respectful, how tranquil. almost like he’s healing something deep within you.

“always,” you smile in return. you talked about anything and everything, in love with the way his eyes were attentive to you, keen to every single thing you had to say.

finding his hand under the sheets, you fiddle with his fingers, imagining all the things the future has in store for the two of you. you just knew this was the start of something special.

you hear the record player in his living room echoing with your favorite song, dried flower.

“can i have this dance?” he squeezes your hand under the sheets, smiling. and although you’re both tired, you each slip on a robe and walk hand in hand to his candle-lit living room.

it feels like you’re meant to do this with him, like you’ve done it together before in a past life.

you thought nights at your favorite lounge were everything you could ever need. but that wasn’t true. because tonight, meeting the love of your life proved you wrong in every single way.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

note: here is a gyu fic!! tysm for continuing to support my works while i've been gone. i'm currently vising japan and i've been here for a few months :) i'm happy to announce i'm working on a tokyo part 3 for those who enjoyed tokyo and the sequel!!! i plan on releasing more fics in the mean time. i hope you enjoyed this one<3

[caitified]

offseason

caitlin clark x reader

warnings: none

the offseason wasn’t something caitlin had been particularly looking forward to this year. after all the hard work, she had high hopes for her rookie season in the WNBA. while she was upset about not going further in the playoffs, she was excited to have some much needed down time and more importantly-to spend time with you.

she had kept a brave face in front of the cameras, but you knew how difficult it was for her to be the center of attention. for a while, she’d been distant, trying to shake off the frustration of not being able to take her team further.

but now, a few weeks into the offseason, things were different. you had her all to yourself, and despite everything, caitlin was beginning to embrace the break.

you were curled up on the couch together, the soft glow of a candle flickering on the coffee table. caitlin had her arm wrapped around you, and her long legs were stretched out across the cushions. she lazily scrolled through netflix, trying to pick something to watch. you could feel her body relax against yours, the tension she’d carried for weeks finally melting away.

“this one?” she asked, pausing on some random rom-com. you shook your head, and she grinned. “okay, how about this?”sShe pointed to a cheesy action movie. you rolled your eyes playfully, but caitlin chuckled and pressed play anyway. “you’re stuck with me,” she teased, nudging you gently.

“i’m not complaining,” you said with a smile, resting your head against her shoulder. “this is actually nice.”

she turned to look at you, her expression softening. “yeah… it is.” for a moment, her eyes lingered on yours, and you could see the shift in her. the competitive edge that always surrounded her was replaced by something softer, something more at peace.

“are you okay?” you asked gently, brushing a hand through her hair. “i know you were disappointed about the season ending.”

caitlin sighed, her fingers tracing slow, absent-minded circles on your arm. “i was. I still am, a little. I hate not being out there.” she paused, biting her lip. “but… i also kind of love this.” she gestured to the two of you. “spending time with you, not worrying about practice or games… it feels good.”

you smiled, leaning up to kiss her cheek. “i love it too. but you’ll be back out there next season, stronger than ever. And for now, you get to just relax.”

caitlin grinned and pulled you closer, resting her chin on your head. “you always know what to say, don’t you?”

as the movie played in the background, neither of you paid much attention. caitlin’s hand slid down to intertwine with yours, and the warmth of her skin made you feel safe. you spent the next few hours in a blissful bubble of nothingness—ordering takeout, laughing at the terrible dialogue in the movie, and just enjoying each other’s company.

at one point, caitlin got up to grab snacks from the kitchen, and when she came back, she had that familiar spark in her eyes. “alright, i’ve been resting long enough,” she said with a mischievous grin. “let’s go shoot around in the driveway.”

you laughed. “cait, it’s dark outside. And aren’t you supposed to be relaxing?”

“i am! but come on, just a few shots,” she pleaded. “i promise i’ll take it easy.”

you gave in, pulling on your shoes and following her outside. caitlin grabbed a ball, and even in the dim light, you could see her come alive again. she wasn’t the same fierce competitor that you saw on the court during the season—she was playful, teasing you as you tried (and failed) to make a few baskets.

eventually, you both ended up sitting on the cool driveway, caitlin draping an arm around your shoulders. for a moment, everything felt right.

“i guess the offseason’s not so bad,” caitlin said softly, her voice warm with affection. “not when I get to spend it with you.”

you smiled, resting your head on her shoulder. “not bad at all.”

[buckets-and-trees]

The Silence of the Hushed Sublime

Collection: CEDAR TREES Characters/Pairings: King!Steve Rogers x Queen!Reader Word Count: 4.8k Summary: A morning one month after the Spring Equinox. You savor some of the precious time before you as king and queen have to take up your royal duties - but this morning will be different than any that came before.

Content & Warnings: royal au, pregnancy conditions, discussion of pregnancy and children, smut: breast play, unprotected vaginal intercourse, brief cock stroking and vaginal fingering, edging into a pregnancy kink (probably)

Author Notes: I PROMISED I'D UPDATE SOMETHING TO CELEBRATE 2200 FOLLOWERS, AND HERE IT IS!While a few others put up a fight, and even temporarily edged into the lead, King Steve came out triumphant in the end! It's been a busy summer with other projects, so I was thrilled to see him leading most of the time because it gave me the perfect excuse to prioritize him! Also... even though I've been planning this chapter for months with very clear ideas of its outline, the muse still surprised me, but I won't say more than that for now...

Narrative Notes: To read previous pieces chronologically, refer to the masterlist for the Cedar Trees Collection.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

The soft song of birds coaxes you into consciousness, and you are susprised to find yourself awake before Steve - a rare thing. Before him, you were never much for mornings, but now you enjoy the time bathed in the glow of the warm morning sunlight and blissfully showered in his attention, woken up with kisses and soft murmurings, and his beard against your neck, your shoulder, your cheek.

But this morning, as you slowly come into consciousness, you roll to your side, careful not to disturb him, and smile as you get a rare opportunity to study his face without distraction and without him knowing.

Your eyes trace the strong line of his jaw, softened by his beard, and you resist the urge to reach out and run your fingers through it. His lips are slightly parted, and you can hear the soft, steady rhythm of his breathing. His brow is smooth, free from the creases of concentration or worry that often mark it during the day. In sleep, he looks younger, more carefree.

You let your gaze wander down to his broad shoulders, exposed above the sheets. The early morning light casts a golden glow on his skin, highlighting the contours of his muscles. Even in repose, there's a quiet strength to his features that never fails to captivate you.

As you watch him, a wave of tenderness washes over you. This man, your husband, your king - he's everything you never knew you wanted or needed. The love you feel for him sometimes overwhelms you with its intensity.

Your hand drifts down to rest on your belly. You haven't told him yet, wanting to be absolutely certain, but you're fairly sure now. The nausea that's been plaguing you in the mornings, the tenderness in your breasts, the absence of your monthly courses - all signs point to the fact that you're with child.

As if sensing your scrutiny, Steve begins to stir. His eyelids flutter, and a small groan escapes his lips as he stretches. When his eyes finally open, they immediately find yours, and a sleepy smile spreads over his face.

"Good morning, my love," Steve murmurs, his voice husky with sleep. He reaches out to pull you closer, nuzzling into your neck. "This is a pleasant surprise. Usually, I'm the one watching you sleep."

You can't help but laugh softly, running your fingers through his tousled hair. "I couldn't resist. You looked so peaceful."

His arms tighten around you, and you feel the familiar warmth of desire spreading through your body. After months of marriage, he ignites fire along your skin every time he touches you.

As he holds you, you can feel your heart racing, the weight of your secret pressing upon you. You want to tell him, to share this joy and excitement with him, but a small voice inside your head whispers caution.

It's still early, too early. You don't want to get his hopes up, or worse, disappoint him if something were to happen. You feel you should wait a little longer, just to be sure.

Steve senses your hesitation and pulls back slightly to look at you. "Is everything alright?" he asks, concern etched in his features.

You force a smile and nod. "Yes, everything's fine. I was just thinking about how fortunate I am to have you."

He smiles back at you before leaning in for a soft kiss. His lips are gentle against yours, full of love and warmth.

"I'm the fortunate one," he says as he pulls away.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, Steve begins tracing circles on your cheek with his thumb. "I've been meaning to ask you something," he says after a moment of silence.

"What is it?" You ask curiously.

"I know we've talked about starting a family one day," Steve starts nervously. "But I was wondering if...if now might be the right time?"

Your heart swells at his words and the butterflies in your stomach flutter frantically. Does he already suspect? Or is this just a coincidence?

"I think that would be wonderful," you say softly, unable to keep the happiness out of your voice.

Steve's face lights up in excitement and relief all at once. He wraps his arms around you tightly and presses kisses along your neck while whispering words of love and excitement.

As he peppers small kisses along your jawline and collarbone, tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You can't believe how lucky you are to have found such a caring and loving partner.

Your legs tangle with his, and you pull his lips to yours, engaging him in a long, languid kiss. Your bodies move together, easing into lustier territory, but neither of you feeling the pressure to rush things along.

After a few more minutes, you break off the kiss and rest your forehead to his. He breathes you in, and your chest tightens in contentment.

But then suddenly, you’re overcome with a wave of nausea rolling over you. You quickly sit up, pressing a hand to your mouth.

"My love?" he questions, reaching for you, voice full of concern.

You shake your head, unable to speak as you fight the urge to be sick. Steve sits up immediately, worry etched on his face. He rubs your back soothingly as you take deep breaths.

After a moment, the nausea passes. You look at Steve, a mix of excitement and trepidation in your eyes. Your heart races. This is the moment, you realize. You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. "Steve, I have something to tell you."

His blue eyes widen, a flicker of understanding passing through them. He takes your hand, his thumb stroking your knuckles gently. "What is it, my love?" he asks softly, though there's an undercurrent of anticipation in his voice.

You take another deep breath, your free hand instinctively moving to rest on your stomach. "I believe I might already be with child," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, Steve is utterly still, his hand frozen on your back. Then, his face transforms, a look of pure joy and wonder spreading across his features. "Truly?" he breathes, his voice filled with wonder and joy.

You nod, tears of happiness welling in your eyes. "I'm not entirely certain yet, but all the signs are there. I've been starting to feel ill in the mornings, I’ve now fully missed my courses twice…”

Steve's arms are around you in an instant, pulling you close to his chest. You can feel his body tremble with emotion, and he presses kisses to every inch of your face, exuberantly showering your forehead, your cheeks, your eyelids, lips, nose, jaw, temples with his excitement.

Steve pulls back slightly to look at you, cupping your face in his hands and brushing away a stray tear that has escaped down your cheek. "This is the greatest news I could have ever hoped for," says, voice thick with adoration.

You smile radiantly, bursting with happiness, thrilled to finally be sharing this with him, the one who holds every piece of your heart.

You're overwhelmed by the love and joy radiating from Steve's eyes. Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you pull him in for another kiss. This one is different from the gentle, sleepy kisses you shared earlier. It's filled with passion, promise, and the excitement of your shared future.

Your lips move against his with increasing urgency, and Steve responds in kind. His hands, which were cradling your face, now slide down to your waist, pulling you closer. You can feel the heat of his skin through the thin fabric of your nightgown, igniting a fire within you.

As the kiss deepens, you part your lips, inviting him in. Steve's tongue meets yours, and a soft moan escapes you. The sound seems to fuel his passion further, and he gently lowers you back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, as you deepen the kiss. Steve's hand caresses your side, sliding down to your thigh and hitching your leg over his hip. The weight of his body presses you into the mattress, igniting sparks of pleasure everywhere you touch.

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, pausing to lavish attention on the sensitive spot just below your ear that never fails to make you shiver.

"My love," he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "My queen. The mother of my child." Each endearment is punctuated with a kiss, each one sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you.

Your hands slide down his back, feeling the play of muscles beneath his skin. You arch into him, craving more contact. Steve's hand skims down your side, over your hip, and then slowly pushes up your nightgown. His fingers trace patterns on your bare thigh, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Steve," you breathe, your voice a mix of pleasure and need.

Steve's eyes darken with desire at the sound of his name on your lips. In one fluid motion, he flips you both over, rolling onto his back and settling you atop him. The sudden change in position elicits a gasp of surprise and delight from you.

Your nightgown has ridden up, bunched around your waist, leaving your lower half bare against his skin. Steve's hands slide up your thighs, over your hips, and finally come up to span your waist. His thumbs stroke the soft skin just beneath your breasts, sending shivers of anticipation through your body.

Steve's gaze roams over you, drinking in the sight of you above him, bathed in the soft morning light.

"You're breathtaking," he murmurs, voice rough with want.

It sends shivers up your spine, and you place your hands on his broad chest for balance, feeling his heart racing beneath your fingertips. Slowly, deliberately, you roll your hips

Your movements elicit a deep groan from Steve, his fingers digging into your hips. The friction sends waves of pleasure through you, and you repeat the motion, savoring the way his body responds to yours.

Steve's hands slide up your sides, taking your nightgown with them. You raise your arms, allowing him to pull the garment over your head and toss it aside. His eyes darken as they roam over your newly exposed skin, lingering on the subtle changes in your body that hint at the new life growing within you.

"So beautiful," he breathes, his voice filled with awe and desire.

Steve's hands explore your body, caressing every curve and plane with reverence. When his palms brush over your breasts, you gasp.

He chuckles. He’s always loved your breasts.

Steve's thumbs brush over your sensitive nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You arch into his touch, craving more. His hands cup your breasts gently, massaging them with just the right amount of pressure.

"Are they more sensitive now?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, unable to form words as he continues his ministrations. Steve sits up, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you as he brings his mouth to your breast. The first touch of his lips against your sensitive skin makes you cry out softly.

His tongue swirls around your nipple before he takes it into his mouth, sucking gently. The sensation is almost overwhelming in its intensity. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close as waves of pleasure wash over you.

Steve lavishes attention on both breasts, alternating between gentle kisses, licks, and soft suckling. Your body writhes atop his, pleasure building with each touch. Steve's hands roam your back, your hips, your thighs, as if he can't get enough of feeling your skin beneath his palms.

You can feel his arousal pressing insistently against you, and you roll your hips again, relishing the groan that escapes him. Steve's head falls back, exposing the column of his throat. Unable to resist, you lean forward and press your lips to his neck, trailing kisses up to his jaw.

"My love," Steve breathes, his voice rough with desire. "I need you."

His words send a jolt down your spine. You capture his lips in a passionate kiss, pouring all your love and desire into it. Steve's hands grip your hips, guiding you as you slowly lower yourself onto him.

You both gasp as you sink down onto him, your bodies joining together. The sensation is exquisite, and for a moment, you simply hold still, savoring the feeling of completeness. Steve's hands tighten on your hips, his breath coming in short pants against your neck.

"You feel incredible," he murmurs, pressing hot kisses along your collarbone.

Slowly, you begin to move, rolling your hips in a steady rhythm. Steve matches your movements, thrusting up to meet you. The pleasure builds with each motion, waves of sensation washing over you.

Steve's hands roam your body, caressing every inch of skin he can reach. His touch is reverent as it always is, but there’s also an almost imperceptible change in it, more protective. When his fingers brush over your stomach, where your child grows, a surge of emotion wells up within you.

He looks back up into your eyes, his blue irises bold with an intensity that always takes your breath away. But they’re also glassy with unshed tears of pride.

You lean down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss, your bare skin pressing against his chest, his coarse chest hair playing deliciously against your nipples. You grind down on his hips again, needing more friction.

Steve groans into your mouth, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he matches your rhythm. The pleasure builds with each movement, waves of sensation washing over you both. Your bodies move together in perfect synchronicity, a dance you've perfected over months of loving each other.

You break the kiss, gasping for air as you arch your back, changing the angle slightly. The new position sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, and you cry out softly. Steve's eyes are fixed on you, drinking in every expression of pleasure that crosses your face.

"That's it, my love," he murmurs encouragingly, his voice rough with desire. "Let me see you."

His words spur you on, and you increase your pace, chasing the building pleasure. Steve's hands slide up your sides to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. The dual sensations of him inside you and his hands on your breasts send you spiraling higher. Your movements become more frantic as you near your peak.

Steve senses your urgency and slides one hand down between your bodies, his skilled fingers finding that sensitive bundle of nerves. The added stimulation is almost too much, and you cry out his name as waves of pleasure crash over you.

Your inner walls clench around him, and Steve groans deeply. His hips buck up into you as he follows you over the edge, his release pulsing inside you.

For a moment, you both remain still, panting heavily as you come down from your shared high. Steve's arms wrap around you, holding you close against his chest. You nuzzle into his neck, pressing soft kisses to his skin.

"I love you," you murmur, your voice heavy with emotion. "So much."

Steve's hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, gently guiding your face to his. His eyes, still dark with passion, search yours with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

"And I love you," he says, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I ever thought possible." His thumb strokes your cheek tenderly.

Then he gently rolls you both onto your sides, keeping you close as he softly strokes your hair. His other hand rests protectively over your lower abdomen, a gesture that makes your heart swell with love.

"Our child," he murmurs in awe, his eyes shining with joy as they meet yours. "I can scarcely believe it."

You smile, placing your hand over his. "I know. It still feels surreal to me too."

Steve leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "You've given me everything, my love. You brought vibrant color to this kingdom, and now a family and a future brighter than I could have ever dreamed."

You feel tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his love and the enormity of the moment. Steve leans in, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to your lips. When he pulls back, there's a hint of mischief in his smile.

"Though I must say," he adds, his tone lighter, "if this is how your body reacts while pregnant, I may have to get you with child more often.”

You laugh, playfully swatting his chest. "Careful what you wish for, my king. We may end up with a whole brood of little ones running about the castle."

Steve's eyes light up at the thought. "And what a joyous chaos that would be," he says, pulling you closer. "Our own little kingdom within these walls."

You snuggle into his warmth, relishing the feeling of his strong arms around you. "It would certainly keep us on our toes," you muse, imagining the pitter-patter of tiny feet echoing through the corridors.

Steve's hand moves to your belly again, his touch gentle and reverent. "I can't wait to meet this little one," he says softly. "To see your eyes in their face, or perhaps your smile."

You place your hand over his, intertwining your fingers. "Or your sharp nose, and your strength.”

His expression softens as he gazes at you, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your stomach. "How are you feeling? Truly?"

You take a moment to consider, assessing your body. "A bit nauseous still," you admit. "But mostly, I feel happy. Excited. And a little scared," you add softly.

Steve's arms tighten around you reassuringly. "It's alright to be scared," he murmurs. "This is new territory for both of us. We will face it together, as we always have."

You nod, burrowing closer into his warmth. "I know. There is simply so much to think about. So much to prepare."

Steve nods thoughtfully, his fingers gently combing through your hair. "Indeed there is. But we have time, my love. We will take it one step at a time."

You smile, feeling comforted by his steady presence. "You are right. Though I suppose we should start thinking about when to make the announcement."

Steve's eyes light up at the thought. "Ah yes, sharing our joy with the kingdom." He pauses, a hint of concern crossing his face. "Though perhaps we should wait a bit longer, to be certain?"

You nod in agreement. "My thoughts exactly. I would like to consult with the royal physician first, to confirm everything is progressing as it should."

"Of course," Steve says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "We will keep this our little secret for now."

“I do think it in order that we soon bring Lord Barnes into our confidence on this,” you said, drumming your fingers lightly over Steve’s chest. “And Viscount Coulson.”

“You need not feel obligated, we can alter our morning routine and breakfast privately again,” clearly thinking you felt it would be necessary to explain the morning sickness when it plagued you in their presence.

“Oh, no, no,” you counter. “They should know. They are your closest advisors and our trusted friends, are they not?”

“Bucky all my life, and Coulson these many years I’ve been king.”

“Then we will tell them over the next few days,” you insist.

“And the Duchess?” Steve queries.

You bite your lip and drop your gaze for a moment.

Steve lets out a teasing but incredulous laugh. “She already knows.”

“She suspects. But you know she knows everything - she is the one who said something to me a few weeks back to get me questioning my condition myself.”

Steve shakes his head. “Unsurprising, really.”

“You have no idea,” you laugh.

Steve is pensive for a moment. “Did you say a few weeks ago?”

“Mhmm,” you nod.

He searches your face, and you try briefly to hold back a smile. Your brilliant king is putting pieces into place.

“Spring solstice, in the forest…”

“I was only hesitantly starting to think I may be with child then.”

There is no unease in his face, only love.

His hand splays protectively over your stomach once more. "I swear to you both, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe and happy."

You place your hand over his, intertwining your fingers. "I know you will. You're already an incredible husband, a stalwart king, and you'll be an amazing father."

Steve's eyes twinkle with mischief as he pulls you closer once more. "Speaking of being an amazing husband," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "perhaps I should demonstrate my devotion once more?" His hand slides teasingly along your thigh.

A shiver of anticipation runs through you. "Oh? And how do you propose to do that, my king?" you tease, running your fingers through his beard.

"Well," Steve says, rolling you onto your back and hovering over you, "I believe it starts something like this..." He dips his head, pressing a trail of hot kisses down your neck and across your collarbone.

You gasp as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot, your body arching into his touch, fingers tangling in his hair. “My, my, Your Majesty, you are insatiable."

He grins, pulling you closer. "Only for you, my love. Always for you." Steve captures your lips in yet another searing kiss, rolling you onto your back. His body covers yours, warm and solid, as his hands begin to roam. You arch into him, always ready to be taken by this man, nay, yearning for it.

As Steve's hands roam your body, igniting sparks of pleasure everywhere they touch, a sudden wave of nausea washes over you. You break the kiss abruptly, turning your head to the side and taking deep breaths.

"My love?" Steve's voice is filled with concern as he pulls back slightly, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "Are you alright?"

You nod, still focusing on your breathing. "Just a moment of queasiness," you manage to say. "It will pass."

Steve immediately shifts, gathering you into his arms and cradling you against his chest. His hand rubs soothing circles on your back as he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. "Perhaps we should rest a while longer," he suggests softly.

You nestle into his embrace, feeling the nausea slowly subside. "I'm sorry," you murmur against neck.

“Do not apologize, your body is engaged in an arduous and demanding task.”

You take a few deep breaths. “Perhaps some water?” you ask.

Steve’s action is immediate, gently extricating himself from you and swiftly crossing the room to pour a glass of water from the crystal pitcher nearby. He presses it into your hands, and resumes his spot next to you as you drink.

“Better?” he asks once you have finished sipping down the cool and calming liquid.

“Mostly,” you answer, reaching to set the glass on the bedside table.

“What else do can I do?” he asks.

Truly feeling the nausea melted away, you turn back to him, an impish grin on your face, and reach for his hand. Steve's eyes darken with renewed desire as you guide his hand between your legs. He groans softly, feeling your warmth and wetness against his fingers. "Are you certain?" he asks, his voice husky with want but tinged with concern.

You nod, pulling him closer. "I am. I want you, Steve. Always."

He needs no further encouragement. His skilled fingers begin to stroke and tease, drawing soft gasps and moans from your lips. You arch into his touch, craving more. Steve's mouth finds yours in a passionate kiss as his fingers continue their ministrations.

Your hands roam his body, tracing the familiar planes of muscle and sinew. When you reach between his legs, you find him already hard and ready. Steve groans into your mouth as you wrap your hand around him, stroking slowly.

"Please," you breathe against his lips. "I need-”

A soft knock at the door interrupts you both. You freeze, eyes wide, as Steve calls out, "Who is it?"

"It's Lord Barnes, Your Majesty," comes the muffled reply.

Steve withdraws the two fingers that were buried in your cunt, and you whine softly at the loss of him.

"I apologize for the early intrusion,” he explains, “but there's an urgent matter requiring your attention."

Steve groans softly, resting his forehead against yours. "Of course there is," he mutters, then calls out, "One moment, Bucky."

You can't help but giggle softly at his frustrated expression. "Duty calls, my love," you whisper, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

He shoots you a playful glare before nipping at your jaw. "Don't move," he whispers. "I'll be right back."

Steve rolls out of bed, hastily pulling on a robe. You admire the view as he crosses the room, enjoying the way the fabric clings to his muscular form. He throws you a knowing smirk over his shoulder before opening the door just enough to speak with Bucky.

You can't make out their hushed conversation, but you see Steve's posture stiffen slightly. Whatever the matter is, it's serious enough to warrant immediate attention. You sit up, pulling the sheet up to cover your you. After a few moments, Steve nods and Bucky leaves.

Steve closes the door methodically, and his brow is furrowed in worry and thought as he turns back to look at you.

“Hydras forces are mobilizing near our northern border. Our scouts report they may be planning an incursion within the fortnight."

You are no stranger to the bloody and barbaric history Hydra has unleashed on many kingdoms over the last century. They showed no preference for where they tried to conquer, striking at kingdoms all across the continent. They moved swiftly, always emerging out of the unknown and shifting shadows they grew in, rising up in violence, brutality, and chaos. They tried to mount a campaign against your grandfather’s kingdom before you were born, and luckily, with the aid of allies, he was able to fight back and send them back.

They had struck many others before, and had struck twice on the other side of he continent since then.

Now, it seems, they were here.

“I must-”

“Yes,” you nod. “You must act with all wisdom and haste. Go.”

He nods solemnly, turning to go.

Steve hesitates for a moment, his hand on the door handle. He turns back to you, his eyes filled with a mixture of love, concern, and determination. In three long strides, he's back at your side, cupping your face in his hands.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "Both of you."

Before you can respond, his lips are on yours, soft yet urgent. Steve's kiss is deep and passionate, conveying all the words left unspoken between you. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as if he's trying to memorize every detail of this moment. The rough texture of his beard against your skin, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. You melt into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pour all your love and support into it.

When Steve finally pulls away, his eyes are dark with emotion. He rests his forehead against yours for a moment, taking a deep breath.

"I love you too," you whisper, your voice wavering only slightly.

"I'll return as soon as I can," he promises softly. His hand drifts down to rest briefly on your stomach, a gesture that makes your heart swell with emotion.

You nod, your hand coming up to caress his cheek. "Be safe, my love. We'll be waiting for you."

Steve's gaze lingers for a moment before he straightens up, then turns away with visible reluctance. But his steps grow purposeful and full of determination as he strides towards the door. The air around him seems to shift and crackle with raw power, his posture regal and commanding as his shoulders square and his jaw clenches. By the time he reaches the door, he has transformed into the king revered and respected by so many - every inch of him radiating authority and strength.

You are no fool, you know he’s walking into dangerous paths, and though you are fearful of the threat and how it will play out over the days and possibly weeks ahead, there is a fire of hope that you will guard and fan the flames of because you believe in him.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

SO

OKAY

I have vague plot points that I did intend on incorporating later in this collection, but THIS HYDRA ONE WAS NEWS TO ME! I thought we were just in store for a nice pregnancy news sharing morning, and then BAM, the muse was like, "YOU WANT SURPRISE NEWS, HERE'S SOME SURPRISE NEWS!" Definitely threw a wrench into my original plans! BUT HYDRA GOTTA HYDRA, AS THE KIDS SAY. no, they don't, they don't say that...

READ THE NEXT PART: COMING SOON read more of the Cedar Trees AU

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[raayllum]

She Must Pay the Price, or A Drop of Mercy :: A Rayla and Leola Meta

Quick:

You're a young elven girl, and you show mercy and compassion to a human that you definitely weren't supposed to. When it's found out, you're punished, with elves even calling for your execution (6x09, book 1 novelization). Your father does what he can, but there's only so much. You're put on trial. You're found guilty regardless of intent, and only by association. You die for this; you die for them. You're a star. A guiding light. There's even a Great Fall off a precipice (though only one of you hits the ground).

Your name is Leola, or Rayla.

You're the beginning and the end, respectively.

So let's talk about it.

Tests of Love

For years, I had wondered where Aaravos' assessment of "Those who fail tests of love are simple animals. They deserve to be motivated by fear" (2x09) came from, cause you don't drop in a line like that if it's not going somewhere. It's quite a statement and worldview, after all. Now, with Leola's trial, it seems we know.

We can see, then, perhaps that Leola's gift giving was the first test of love — are you willing to break the Natural Law, the Natural Order of things? — to help another? To show another a source of power in order to share, to be compassionate, and in Rayla's case, to be merciful (though we'll get more to that in a minute).

We also know that the love Leola had was powerful and all encompassing:

She didn't care to follow the order set in the stars. Though she was born an immortal being from the Heavens, she loved this world... and all its flaws. Her heart was warm and open.

And she befriended mortals. Animals, elves... and humans.

ETHARI: Who I love, where I love, what I love, are all specific. But to Runaan and those like your parents... love is rooted in all families, all creatures. Souls like that feel called to protect everyone as fiercely as those they hold close. (Bloodmoon Huntress)

Okay, so Leola and Rayla both have big compassionate hearts and befriend creatures from all over the place. So what? So do Callum, Ezran, Soren, and most of our other main good guy characters. Even Claudia to a degree (though she could work on not using magical creatures for spell parts).

Well, specifically, it's because of how they intersect currently more with anyone else on the concept of

Mercy

KOSMO: Daughter of the Moon, yours is a wondrous heart. In a moment of mercy, you sent ripples out into the ocean of time. Ripples that have not yet stilled. (6x05)

Rayla sparing Marcos, as noted in multiple interviews by the creators and by myself in previous metas, is ultimately the inciting incident / lynchpin of the entire series. Without it, there would've been no soulfang proposal or Ez running away to find the egg or any of the number of other elements that had to come together to make achieving peace possible.

While we still have details to discover regarding Aaravos' Fall and development of dark magic, we know that a lack of mercy was ultimately what sent him on his path of vengeance. Leola was not shown mercy, and while it seems there were already "flaws" for an imperfect world, things were (probably) better than they currently are in Xadia in a variety of ways. Then, to kick off the entire Saga, we have Rayla sparing Marcos in a soundtrack literally titled "Mercy" and have Kosmo, seasons and seasons later, spell out directly what a big deal this was for well, the ocean of time.

None of this is to say Rayla can't act out of revenge — she did ("when I first came here, I was on a mission for revenge") and she has ("but I became so obsessed with revenge"), much like Aaravos ("he isn't doing anything out of love, he's doing it for revenge") — but that her general compassion and love for others has always been stronger than her grief or rage, and that even when she had every social and personal reason to, she was and is fundamentally unable to hurt someone innocent.

Even when she's shamed or punished for it by herself or by others. RAYLA: The human looked up at me, and I saw the fear in his eyes. RUNAAN: Of course he was afraid, but you a job to do! (1x01)

EZRAN: Yeah, but then you saw he was scared, and you knew he was a person, just like you. RAYLA: That shouldn't have mattered. I had a job to do. (1x08)

The Cosmic Council — and to a degree, the Silvergrove — say that the reasonings or motivations, the intentions, behind Leola and Rayla's actions do not and should not matter when it comes out to doling 'Justice'. So Leola faces her justice, being literally killed in the one manner that can kill a Startouch elf, and so does Rayla, being metaphorically Ghosted / 'murdered' by her community, regardless.

Neither are enough to ultimately quell their light or their love/power, however.

A Star

RAYLA: That beautiful shining star you just pointed out? We call it Leola's Last Wish. (5x02)

So both Leola and Rayla are stars in season 6, literally and metaphorically respectively. Leola's is more self-explanatory, whereas Rayla's is mostly about the role she has in Callum's life as a guiding light and star. I don't think it's a coincidence, though, that just as Rayla placed Callum on his path of being a primal mage, though, that Leola did the same for humanity. I also don't think it's a coincidence that Callum's love for Rayla restores Callum's own light and agency amid Leola giving humanity the same through light and fire.

It happened long ago, when humans had only just learned to hold fire in their hands without burning. They nurtured their precious primal flames secretly—in the dark of night, beneath shadows and shrouds—as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters. Eventually, for the audacity of their fire, they were hunted, and—though they looked to the stars for salvation—the stars, too, looked down upon them with disdain. Humanity had been given something it was never meant to have. (TDP shorts, Ripples)

In this way, we see the manifestation of a repeating parallel of Rayla representing Leola, a gift giver of life, magic, light, unjustly punished/killed, and Callum representing humanity, looking to the kindest brightest star for guidance, magic, restoration, and salvation if he's just given the chance to grasp it. After all, presumably, Leola's last wish would have something to do with primal magic and humanity, and who represents that better than Callum, with two arcana under his belt and possibly more on the way? With that in mind, I want to return to another quote from earlier but with a different focus on

Ripples

Daughter of the Moon, yours is a wondrous heart. In a moment of mercy, you sent ripples out into the ocean of time. Ripples that have not yet stilled.

The wisest of the humans looked upon the water. His own reflection smiled back at him, and he dared to imagine what such power would feel like in his own hands, should he be allowed to hold it. Imagine, he thought, if I were more than what I am. With a trembling hand he touched the surface of the water. Ripples spread from his fingertips. [...] I hope the stars were watching. I hope they saw it: the moment their perfect reflections turned warped and ruined, churned to chaos by the touch of a single human hand. In this, the humans taught me another lesson. And so I touch the surface of the water. I watch the ripples spread.

Water in TDP is a strange beast, symbolically speaking. There are some more straight forward motifs (reflections, "don't try to control where the river [of life] goes, there's one thing you can know and control: yourself"). For Aaravos, it's connected to deep loss but also his own sense of patience in playing and winning his game, as illustrated above. For Rayla, it's linked to shame, self-reflection, bravery, and loss. Aaravos weeps and creates a sea upon losing Leola; Rayla says goodbye to her family by the lotus pond times three.

We don't know what water represents for Leola. Not distinctly, anyway. The best we can figure though, is that by following the through line of the Rayla and Leola parallels, that the ripples Leola wanted to send out or did send out — not the distortions caused by her father and his grief — are ones that Rayla received, and then continued.

Rayla has always been a foil to Aaravos, and this hasn't changed. She is the one who set Callum on the path initially of being a mage, which put him in Aaravos' machinations as prey; she retrieved his Key; and she's the reason Callum's done dark magic, twice. At the same time, much like the moon, Rayla carries Leola's light as much as she shoulders Aaravos' dark. She literally represents light in Callum's life, helps lead him through the darkness, and him being a primal mage and it's possible growth to other humans is the best possible thing that could've ever happened to Xadia.

Sol Regem says that "no one can save" Xadia or fix what is deeply broken. The Cosmic Council said that Leola had broken the Cosmic order and had to pay the price. Rayla has repeatedly been willing to pay the price for both hers and other's actions in hopes of making things right, of sparing others' pain. Sometimes to her detriment, but—if Rayla as Callum's one Truth could fix the darkness within him, if she's the lynchpin for breaking the Cycle, for bringing back Runaan and fixing her family's souls, in opposing and presenting mercy amid the Council's lack of mercy, in the face of Xadia's violence—

Then Rayla's act of mercy in 1x01, and potentially beyond in S7 with Callum, will be what fixes Xadia.

Leola's gift of magic is what 'broke' Xadia, and her execution is what literally did so, leading to the division of the continent. She wrongly paid the price in the absence of mercy and love. Rayla is therefore her thematic successor — welcomed this time as Light and Truth — as the carrier of Mercy and Love, and she will 'fix' Xadia through her ripples and dynamics. She will mend them back together. There will, at last, be no price to pay.

Misc. Thoughts / Predictions

One thing I was always curious about going forward into future seasons was the prospect of a 'trial' or reunification of the Silvergrove. It felt like a no-brainer the Silvergrove would have to change in order to reflect Runaan's character arc, much the way we see Katolis and the Sunfire elves change to better accommodate the new, more compassionate world order. Pre-S4 a trial felt a little strange as an idea, though post-S4 the parallels it could provide to the Lucia tribunal made more sense about why include either (or both).

However, Leola's trial seemed to hammer home the almost necessity (as this is still a prediction, after all, that may not happen) of Rayla and/or Runaan saying their peace to the Silvergrove leaders. This would be a great opportunity to provide a contrast to the Cosmic Council, reaffirming that Xadia is ultimately better than them because the Moonshadow elves and everyone else can change, and the Cosmic Council seemingly cannot or will not. But I guess we'll have to wait for S7 or beyond (#GiveUsTheSaga) to find out if this'll come to fruition or not.

I also wanted to touch on what we see with Leola ("I'm so scared!") and the repeated emphasis on "recognizing fear as a moment of empathy and personhood" and the horror that can come if you don't have that moment of recognition. This is something I've touched on before most notably as a striking difference between S1 Rayla and S5 Claudia, but I thought it was worth mentioning as S6 added to it specifically with Viren towards Soren and Lissa. This is another point in the "Rayla is an inversion of the Council's lack of mercy" column, as Leola's — a child's fear, and Aaravos willing to pay the price and take her place — earns her no mercy. Rayla, meanwhile, sees someone innocent that she has 'every right' to execute is afraid of her, and that strays her hand; it steadies her sword, and she spares him. Because if someone is afraid of you, it's worth asking yourself why, and what you might want to do instead.

Last but not least I wanted to talk about Leola's parallels to Callum and Ezran as well, since they are very much there (though yet not perhaps to the same extent).

Ezran has Leola's friendliness to animals and soft heart. He too is a child whose death is called for as a means of Justice, and he is granted mercy through Rayla and the discovery of the egg, able to live and grow and help usher in peace. He is, I think, what Leola might've been allowed to be if she'd lived in different times. Callum, meanwhile, carries the gift giving motif through his cube, staff, and tokens he both gives to (moon-phoenix bracelet) and receives (the moon opal necklace) from Rayla, and previous 'human-Leola' magic dynamic. Callum being able to break free fully from Aaravos' and dark magic's control in S7 and turn his eye instead to primal magic will be what helps bring true justice to Leola and hope for humanity / Xadia in righting the Cosmic Council's fundamental wrongdoing. Hopefully, anyway.

Conclusion

I hope you enjoyed this deep dive into some parallels and potential narrative goings-on between Leola and Rayla as characters. TDP loves its historical and ironic layers in TDP (Ez and the Orphan Queen, Viren's arc from S1 to S6) and I think this layered thematic dynamic between the two merciful young girls was a good, brilliant choice by the creative team. I'm excited to see where this thematic thread goes in the future and how it may continue to be woven into the story. As always, thank you for reading, and I'll see you in the next one.

[milswrites]

I'll Crawl Home to You

~ Azriel X Reader

Summary: After barely escaping his last mission, Azriel realizes he has one regret in life. Not telling you about the undying love which he held for you. His brush with death allowing him to realize that he can't live another day without you by his side, Azriel wastes no time in telling you exactly how he feels.

Warnings: Angst. Talks of death and injuries. Nice cute ending though :)

Azriel had always assumed that when the time came for death to greet him, he would welcome them like an old friend.

Gladly taking the specter's hand and allowing them to guide him to the afterlife, satisfied with the centuries of a blessed life he had been gifted by the Mother.

Azriel had never feared death. Instead he imagined that when the sweet embrace of darkness finally surrounded him, he would be able to rest at last. A mercy that he could finally be at peace, no worries crossing his mind as he knew that one day his brothers would also join him in whatever afterlife he was sent to.

Which is why he couldn't understand why he was panicking now as death's black cloak began to wrap around him. Rather than the warming comfort he had always imagined it would hold, the incoming blackness felt bitterly cold. Like his body had begun to freeze over like a lake in winter, the last dregs of his life being sucked from him.

Azriel found himself fighting back. His weak hand outstretched as he attempted to push away the approaching claws of death which were slowly advancing. Teeth grit together with effort as he tried to ward them off.

"No" the desperation in his hoarse voice was palpable, words catching in his throat as he flinched away from the foreboding figure of darkness. A painful spasm tearing through his body, originating from the wound on his chest where an unwelcome dagger had found its home.

"No i'm not ready yet please. Please don't take me . . . No please!"

His speech was slurred, vision dotted with masses of growing black spots. Yet Azriel didn't allow his hold on reality to slip for a single second. Not if it meant dying.

Not if it meant never seeing you again.

And so he resisted death's sweet siren song, too stubborn to allow himself to give in.

"I will not die today."

Azriel hissed the words through his pain. His fierce amber eyes meeting the cool sharp gaze of death's.

A gaze so intense that Azriel was sure it was enough to drive anyone to insanity. The well of darkness which swirled in death's icy orbs was never-ending. Azriel allowed himself to swim in them deeper and deeper, searching for a way to escape from their clutches. Following the glistening golden rope which shimmered enticingly, as though begging Azriel to take hold of it, promising that life would be at the other end of it.

It was agony. Sharp spikes of pain coursing through him as his limbs grew heaver and heavier the deeper he dived, skin beginning to burn and blister as a feverish sweat settled on his uncomfortable skin.

But Azriel didn't let up. Never lessening his grip on the golden rope. Allowing his memory of you to give him strength in the face of his adversity.

He never let go. Not even when death itself began to fight back.

Terrible visions of the horrors of his past appeared before him as he swam. Bubbles which contained the callous faces of his half-brothers floated by his face. Sinister smiles upon their lips as they stared at Azriel, deaths alluring voice slipping from their lips, "Come now Azriel, don't fight it. The rope leads to nothing. Let go. Close your eyes, I've got you. You can rest now."

Yet Azriel didn't look to the floating forms of his cruel brothers. He kept his stern gaze ahead, chasing after the end of the rope. Chasing after you.

It was almost as if you were there. If he squinted hard enough he could see your ethereal form at the end of the tunnel, a gentle hand held out for him to take.

It wasn't death. He knew that much. Your glowing figure radiated life, the promise of a future.

There at the end of the golden rope was you. Patiently waiting for him to greet you so you could return him to the land of the living. You were his salvation. You had come for him.

He allowed himself to become deaf to the enticing whispers of death. Continuing his pursuit forwards, towards you, leaving the dark memories of his past behind as he turned his full attention to swimming towards his future.

His scarred hand reaching out towards yours, the tips of his fingers brushing against your soft palm as he connected your hands. Entwining your fingers as he used the warmth you radiated as an anchor.

And then instead of darkness, there was only light.

~~~~~

Soft whispers stirred Azriel from his slumber. Through his closed eyelids, Azriel could see the sweet familiar orange glow of sunlight. The heat of which warmed his skin, energy flowing through his body as though the sun was replenishing his source. Enabling him to slowly flutter his eyes open, sight focusing on the blurred figure in the chair next to him.

Azriel rushed to sit up, Cassian's steady hands shooting out to stop his erratic movement, hushing the shadowsinger as he helped to rest him up against the pillows on the bed.

"Careful," Cassian grinned, pleased to see his brother awake, yet his smile did nothing to hide the concern which failed to leave his eyes, "you had us all worried for a moment there Az. We thought-" Cassian's voice broke as he swallowed back a cry, ". . . We thought we'd lot you."

"How did I get. . .? Y/N. She found me!"

Azriel struggled to put together the pieces of what happened after he was stabbed.

There was darkness, an impending sense of doom, and then a sudden burst of light. But there, somewhere in between his jumbled memories, Azriel had seen you. He was sure of it.

"Y/N?" Cassian questioned, brows furrowing in confusion as his concerned gaze swelled deeper, "They weren't there Az. You travelled here with your shadows. Gave me a fright, you appeared right in front of me covered in blood and barely breathing."

"No. . ." Azriel murmured, that couldn't have been right. He saw you. He was sure of it.

"They came to visit you a few times once Madja had you stable. Maybe you're thinking of that?" Cassian reasoned, trying to reassure himself more than Azriel, preying to the cauldron that his brother hadn't gone senile.

"Yeah" Azriel lied, flashing his brother a crooked smile to soothe his worries, "Yeah you're probably right."

No amount of convincing from his brother would allow Azriel to believe anything else other than the fact that you were there to save his life. To bring him home.

But if Cassian was somehow right . . . If you really hadn't been there. Then that meant Azriel had dreamt about you. This wasn't a new occurrence, there were many nights where Azriel welcomed the sweet embrace of sleep so only to see your smiling face in his dreams. Yet his mind, in what could have been his final moments alive, thought only of you.

Of your beauty and grace. Of your welcoming nature and the sense that in finding you, Azriel was home, even when death had came to claim his soul in the wilderness of Illyria.

He liked that. The knowledge that his home wasn't a place, but a person. That wherever he was, he need only to think of you and he can allow himself to be happy.

Though despite this realization, Azriel found that he couldn't be happy. Not when he had felt this strongly about you for years and had just almost died without confessing this to you.

Nausea crawled up his throat at the prospect that he had almost left this world without knowing if you felt the same way about him as he did you. Angry at himself for pining after you for so long and making no move to show you his the true nature of his emotions.

He had been a silent admirer. Yet Azriel found himself wanting to be silent no longer.

"Did you say they were here?" he rushed the words out, the intensity of his question causing the General to sit back in shock, "where are they now?"

"Uh, I think they went to their room for a bit. I told them I'd watch over you for a bit."

Azriel wasted no time in jumping up from underneath the covers. Having learnt firsthand how precious his time really was, he wouldn't allow himself to wait another second without telling you of his devotion.

So he ran, blind to the flash of pain which coursed from his still tender wound. Unable to feel the uncomfortable twinge in his chest due to the heavy pounding of his heart.

Azriel felt no nerves nor anxiety. He was driven by his need to speak to you. A confidence settling in his heart that this was right - that everything was happening the way it was supposed to.

Every step closer to your bedroom was a step closer to his home.

So consumed by his desire to see you, Azriel neglected to knock as he entered your room. Wild eyes searching your chambers until they finally landed on your shocked expression.

~~~~~

"Oh cauldron Az, you're alright!"

A cry of relief tore from your mouth, as you closed the distance between you and the male, gently throwing your arms around him, careful not to embrace him too tightly for fear of upsetting his wound.

But Azriel didn't care. Not when he had you in his arms. So he pulled you tighter and tighter to his chest, until he could feel the gentle beat of your heart alongside his own. Needing reassurance that you were real. That he really was alive.

Once you had basked in each other's presence for long enough you pulled away, hands clasping his biceps as you moved him back to allow yourself to cast your eyes over him, ensuring that the male was actually ok.

"Should you even be out of bed? Az you need to rest!"

You made to pull him towards your own bed so he could lie down, but Azriel stopped you, holding your hand tightly to prevent you from moving from where you were stood.

"I've rested long enough" he stated with a shake of his head, consuming gaze meeting your own.

"Azriel you almost died" you argued, amazed that the male was even standing.

"I think I did die" Azriel replied, his words being enough to silence you, silvery tears lining your eyes at the thought of you almost loosing the shadowsinger.

"I think" he repeated not wanting to confirm the words which he knew out of fear of upsetting you, "I saw them. Death. They wanted to take me but . . . I couldn't let them. So I fought back. I fought and fought until I saw you. You saved me Y/N."

"Me?" you gasped in disbelief. You had heard the tales of warriors who had narrowly escaped death, swearing that they had seen the gracious form of the Mother as they were brought back to life. Yet none of them ever claimed to see a person who was real.

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you" he concluded. If it weren't for your captivating presence drawing him towards you Azriel would have drowned in the inky orbs of death.

"I couldn't" tears had now began to fall from Azriel's own eyes, silver pearls trailing down his cheeks, "I couldn't leave. Not without seeing you again. Not without saying goodbye. It's all I could think about."

A sob broke from your lips, amazed that Azriel's last thoughts before death were only of you.

"I didn't care how badly wounded I was" he spoke truthfully, hands still clinging onto yours as if they were a lifeline, "They could have stolen my wings. Taken my sanity. Broken my spirt. But none of that would have made a difference. None of that would stop me from crawling home to you. No amount of ropes and chains could hold me back, not when it meant seeing you on the other side."

It was impossible not to feel an overwhelming surge of love at the sincerity of his words. At the desperation which flooded in his eyes, begging you to believe him. Pleading for you to feel the same way.

"My love for you knows no bounds. Life or death, you are always with me, and I will never fail to find you" he promised. Certain that if he could conquer death with only the desire to be at your side, he would be able to fight anything.

"You did it Az" you beamed, hands dropping his only to come and rest on his dampened cheeks, "You came home to me. Our love transcends all worlds. Heaven, hell, purgatory, we'll find each other in every single one of them I promise. Because I am never letting you go again."

You couldn't. Not when you had already almost lost him. You would never lose Azriel again. Yet you could be happy with the thought, that if the situation were to ever happen again, that you could be his guiding beacon. Leading Azriel back to you. Leading him back home.

[alvfr]

🌹 hii! Any Marvel content?

Btw the Rot snippet!! Amazing!

Aaah, thank you ❤️ And I thought for sure I had some Marvel-writing laying around, but I couldn't find it so I decided to act on my impulses and write this little thing I've had in the back of my mind for a while. It went slightly beyond a snippet, but I am who I am unfortunately. also I headcanon that xavier does not read minds unless permitted, which is in line with how this movie ended originally. paring: logan | james howlett/reader cw: fem mutant!reader, no use of y/n, set after days of future past, implied memory loss or time travel shenanigans, profanity, no smut wc: 1.9k

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

It is considered cliche to start a story with someone waking up, but that is nonetheless where this story begins. When everything you knew or thought you knew about the world changed. And out of every way your life could be turned on its head, you never thought it would be to the soothing tones of Roberta Flack playing on the radio. From the depths of your subconscious rose a tiny voice asking a question. What radio?

Roberta’s voice overpowered your internal one and became the first thing to wake you from a deep and comfortable slumber. Too deep and too comfortable, perhaps, compared to what you were used to. The same went for the bed — too soft and too warm and too nice smelling. A part of you tried to piece it together and failed. What bed?

For several long seconds before you fully woke, you pondered if you had died sometime during the night and woken up in heaven. More and more of your body stirred, though, indicating vitality. Including your eyelids that blinked open only to immediately squeeze shut at the incessant sunlight streaming in through the window. Faint alarm bells chimed in the back of your groggy mind. What window?

Still, not enough to break through to the rational part of your brain, you settled further into the fluffy pillow and closed your eyes again. A slight breeze tickled the back of your neck though and you twitched in annoyance. You twisted your head this way and that, but the tickling continued so you tried turning around to pull the covers up over your shoulder. Except you found yourself locked in place by something warm and heavy. Someone warm and heavy whose breath continued to tickle the back of your neck.

Your eyes burst open, and your entire body froze, not daring to even breathe. Your mind finally caught up to the unnatural warmth that came from the way your body slotted together with someone else’s in the large, comfortable bed you had never seen before. In a room you had never seen before. You twisted your head to peek at the person behind you, the one pressed flush up to your backside. With their hairy legs entangled with yours, with their scruffy face nestled into your neck, and with their muscular, heavy arm splayed over your midriff. 

First, you saw nothing but large tufts of dark brown hair, but your movement must have woken him. Definitely a him. Sun-blessed skin, a solid, rugged jaw covered in something that went way beyond a five o’clock shadow, and deep-set, weary eyes that remained closed for now. He grunted and groaned as if wordlessly admonishing you for disturbing his peaceful sleep, and his arm around your waist tightened. Much like yourself, he squeezed his eyes shut first and rubbed his face back down into the pillow and your neck, scratching his scruff onto your bare skin. Shockwaves spun through both your mind and nerve endings when he absentmindedly placed a kiss on your exposed shoulder.

“What the fuck?” you whispered, not really sure why you had not bolted from his grip. It was almost like that even if your mind could not comprehend what you were doing in this strange bed with this strange man, your body had no qualms about it. “What the fuck?”

“Hng?” the man grunted again and took several tries to blink his tired eyes fully open. Unfamiliar hazel eyes stared at you, and you stared back, watching his lip curl in irritation and his heavy eyebrows pull down to a scowl. Somehow, the sight of you did not seem to disturb him, quite the opposite, in fact, as he leaned over with eyes half-closed and kissed you right on the mouth. Soft, chaste, warm. Familiar in a completely unfamiliar way and gone before you could even comprehend what had happened. A sound vibrated through the man’s chest, almost a growl before he promptly closed his eyes and laid back down. “Hrmm.”

Every part of you burned, a hot blister running everywhere you still touched and where you had touched. Your mouth hung open from where his kiss had landed, a hint of wetness on your bottom lip that chilled in his absence. Both the intimate act itself and the strange nonchalance with which he did it made you want to implode. 

You held your breath, unable to either inhale or exhale, with your head reeling at the idea of being kidnapped by some weirdly cuddly pervert before his grip on you tightened and his eyes snapped back open. The confusion shone off of him, and you stared at each other, both unblinking and unmoving.

His voice came gruff and heavy with sleep, “Who the hell are you?”

“Who the hell are you?”

His focus danced around the room, not settling on either you or the interior. He tilted his head backward in the direction of the radio but did not fully turn, probably because you pinned him down with the way you lay. “What year is this?”

“What year is this?”

Now he did turn around, flipping over so you fell back onto the mattress. The movement tugged down the covers, revealing his hairy muscular chest that your fingers itched to run your hands over, and you dug your nails into your palm instead because what the fuck? You didn’t even know this guy, and even so, you could feel the way your stupid body pulled toward him. 

For some reason, the man stared at the fancy radio that declared it was playing ‘Golden Oldies’ on the holographic display and let out a tiny sigh of relief. “Twenty-twenty-three?” he asked you as if that was the most important question where you lay half-naked in bed together. “Is this twenty twenty-three?”

The earnestness of his question made your own take the backseat for a spell. You sat up, noting how you had on an unfamiliar black t-shirt, and rubbed your face. “I thought it was, but with the way you’re asking, I’m not sure anymore.”

“Is everyone,” he swallowed, and you noted the way his throat moved, “alive?”

“Define everyone,” you mumbled, but something glinted on your hand, and you pulled it away from your face to look at it. That had not been there last night, either. A ring. A simple, nondescript golden ring. Almost like a wedding ring. “What the fuck is this?”

The man raised an eyebrow, seeming unconcerned, and ran a hand over his scruff. “Hey, no judgment.”

Ignoring him, you pulled off the offending object and gave it a critical glance. “Who the fuck is,” you squinted at the tiny text, “James Howlett?”

“What?” His panicked tone spoke volumes, and you turned to stare at him. Was he James Howlett? When you said nothing, his voice grew tighter. “What did you just say?”

He had frozen with his hand still up by his face, and you both noticed it at the same time. The disturbingly similar ring on his finger and you wrenched it off him before he could protest. It was the same cut as the one you had, just larger and thicker, and with a different engraving, this one containing your name.

“What the fuck?” you snapped and tore out of the bed, mind overriding your meddlesome body as you hurled the rings at him. Then followed with the books from the overfilled bookshelf by the window. “What kind of disturbed, twisted, pathetic loser are you? You kidnapped me to live out some—”

He dodged the incoming projectiles, sounding more weary than angry. “Hey. Hey! Calm down!”

“—stupid handmaid’s tale bullshit fantasy—”

The man grabbed a book from mid-air and yelled, “Hey! I didn’t drug you or kidnap you, okay? I’ve never even seen you before!”

“Right! Sure! You just happened to have a ring lying around with my name on it in case I happened to wake up in your bed for some reason? You’re sick, mister! Sick!” You reached for another book but grabbed hold of a picture frame instead and were about to fling it at him. Except you caught sight of the picture, eyes widening to an unnatural degree, and held it up. “What in the ever-loving reverse Stockholm syndrome is this?”

The picture showed you, in a wedding gown, next to him, in a suit. Remarkably realistic, down to the genuine smiles on both your faces and the flurry of confetti that rained down over you from beyond the frame. 

“Whoa, hey, I’ve never seen that before. Lady, listen to me, last thing I remember, I was in 1973 trying to fix the future.”

“Oh my god, you’re insane. You’re completely out of your mind! I’m leaving and so help you god or anyone else if you try to stop me! I’m a mutant, you know; I can kick your ass seven ways to Sunday!”

The man’s face locked somewhere between confusion and amusement from where he sat in the bed, surrounded by books and messy covers. It did not occur to you that you should have been scared of him before you strode across the room, heading for the door. Almost as if your body overrode that particular feeling, as if deep down you knew this man would never hurt you.

Your brain was fully onboard with the getting-the-hell-out-of-here-plan, however, and you tore the door open only to reveal a hallway you had never seen before filled with kids you had never seen before. All kinds of kids, really, some of them obviously mutants and some at least human-looking. The myriad of noises and displays of powers momentarily distracted you from the bald man in the wheelchair right outside the door that you were sure you had seen before.

“Good morning,” he said with a polite smile, fingers steepled in front of him. “I’ve come to inform you that we’ve regretfully had several students complain about noises from your room. Again. I must ask you, again, to please keep it down as long as you are staying here near the dormitories. I know this is an inconvenience, but the refurbishment of the teacher’s lodgings is expected to be completed within a few more days. We have, wisely as it seems, included several layers of soundproofing.”

“Charles?” 

“Holy shit, you’re Charles Xavier.”

“Language, Professor Howlett,” Charles fucking Xavier said with a raised eyebrow. To you. He called you Professor Howlett and you could not even think of a reply while he raised a wrist to check his watch. “Speaking of, don’t you both have classes to teach?”

You only stared and let out a strained whispered, “What?”

“Charles,” the man behind you — presumably James Howlett — repeated, and you heard the rustle of cloth as he got out of bed. He sounded breathless when he said, “You did it.”

“Did what, Logan? ” 

Okay, maybe the man was not James Howlett? Either way, he came to stand next to you but paid you little attention from where he stared at Xavier. Open-mouthed, in awe, relieved, happy?

When Logan said nothing, Xavier gave you both a short nod. “Just keep it to an acceptable volume, please. Everyone knows you are happily married; there’s no need to remind everyone quite as frequently as you are. And get dressed, please! Class starts in five minutes.” 

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

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[spacexseven]

Fyodor would be a family man that’s good at hiding his true intentions from his family such as the decay of angels and rats house along with his s/o just nurturing their son and having a peaceful side along with Nikolai being a family friend who would entertain Fyodors son. One happy family

anon i could kiss you senseless rn...literally one of the best things i've ever had the honor of seeing in my inbox. this idea has ruined me i swear it's Perfect

fem reader, reader is married to fyodor and has a son w him

cw: yandere character, deceit, manipulation, mentioned murder

fyodor dostoevsky makes for a wonderful husband—loving, ordinary, almost suspiciously so, but you married him knowing that he was an ordinary man. you loved him knowing that he was an ordinary man.

an ordinary man with some extremely unsettling secrets, none that you knew about.

the fyodor dostoevsky you knew and loved was the man who kissed the palm of your hand, and if he was feeling particularly affectionate, your forehead, every morning before he left for work, with a half-smile on his lips and a fond gleam in his eyes. you weren't quite sure what he did, except that he worked for a company of some kind, but you didn't like the way his face hardened when you probed, so you left it at that. it didn't matter what he did, anyway, so long as he came back to greet you every night, safe and unharmed.

the man you married was the one who'd come home to greet you with a tired nod and a warm embrace, entertaining your son's excited rambling over dinner. he held you close when he read before sleeping, stroking your hair with a light touch. as far as you were concerned, he was an amazing husband and lover.

though he was not necessarily a good person otherwise.

you were so easily blinded by the tender warmth he showed his family, that you hardly cared for his uncharacteristic slip-ups. like when he scowls, ever so slightly, when the news broadcasts some detective agency receiving an award, or when a ghost of a smile lingers as you wonder out loud how a casino could be floating in the sky.

you never once questioned the times he came home in an entirely different coat from when he went out, or when he was away for days on end, not calling you or leaving you a single message. was it because you trusted him wholeheartedly, or because you were afraid of what the truth really was?

but even if you had your own suspicions, it would have never even come close to what fyodor was really doing. how were you to know that the same lips that whispered sweet songs of praise to you with a coquettish smile were the same ones that uttered a death sentence to his countless victims? and how were you to know that the steady hands that caressed your body so intimately had also touched numerous corpses? the husband that spoiled you on anniversaries and birthdays could not be the same man that was actively planning to cover the world with the blood of sinners.

for the most part, you liked nikolai too. he was a little odd, considering his getup and his tendency to seemingly pop out of nowhere, but he was good friends with your husband—dos, as he called fyodor—and your son loved playing with him. he didn't tell you what he did, either, though he let it slip that he worked very closely with your husband. he refused to explain fyodor's unexplained disappearances, though he would often stop by to show your son a new magic trick when fyodor was gone for a little too long, just to reassure you a little.

nothing really gave it away; not the amused expression when you told him to stay safe on his way, nor his eccentric coworkers. you were just happy that your husband always came home to you, and never failed to remind you that he loved you. there were, perhaps, more things that should have worried you. the way fyodor insisted that you keep your social circle small, or the frustrated look in his eyes that was beginning to appear more and more often. even the peculiar things he was beginning to tell you.

you're lying in fyodor's lap, mind drifting between sleep and consciousness as he looks at you with an unreadable expression. then, perhaps noticing that you weren't completely asleep, a little smile appears on his face. "tell me," his voice is soft, but every word feels strangely heavy, "will you ever leave me?" you frown slightly, and he chuckles. "even if i did something you don't agree with?" you shake your head, "what's this about?" his smile widens, and he gently pinches your cheek. the look in his eyes is unnaturally cold. "it doesn't matter. either way...you don't have anyone else to turn to."

and you could have continued the way life was, with your mostly ordinary husband and your wonderful family. at least, until he turns up at your door after an especially long period of disappearance. you would be thrilled, normally, but you're much too shocked at the sight of your husband in what looks like a prison uniform to feel any relief.

[eff4freddie]

After She Left | Fifteen

Words: 6.4k 18+ Minors DNI

Shauna may finally be gone, but now the real work begins: healing.

Chapter warnings: Angst, smut (yes *finally*, not me saving it to the last chapter lol), I dunno if it's even really smut because there are also feels tbh but nevertheless minors DNI, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, oh my god we got there

A/N: Ok wow, I feel emotional. We've arrived at the final chapter. I just want to say an enormous thank you to all of you for your support of this story, your mutual and hilarious hatred of Shauna, and your patience with our girl Teach. I hope you find this ending satisfying, and I would absolutely LOVE to hear your thoughts - good or bad. I wrote this story over the course of many months, over the course of many life changes and a life-altering loss, and injury. You kept me going, and I thank you so much for that. Thank you, thank you, thank you x

Fourteen | Series Masterlist | Epilogue

A/N 2: actually….after some sleep and some very fair and generous feedback I’m going to pop an epilogue on this guy. I can’t say goodbye to these three.

The front windows were dark, but as he pushed open the door he could hear the soft murmurs of Ellie and Tommy, felt along the corridor to the back room where they sat, huddled over a lantern, a loose blanket over Ellie’s shoulders. They stilled when he came in, Ellie giving him the once over.

‘Where is she?’ Joel murmured, his voice rough from the cold.

‘Put her upstairs, she was dead on ‘er feet,’ Tommy said. He watched the furrow of Joel’s brow lessen only slightly. ‘I wrapped her up tight and warm, brother,’ he said, grinning a little.

‘She spent all day with her,’ Ellie explained, her face impassive but the venom behind the word. ‘She deserved a rest.’

Joel nodded, considering this. He wanted to head up the stairs and stick his head in, check that you were warm enough, that you were still there. Tommy watched as Joel clenched and unclenched his fist.

‘Where is she?’ Tommy asked, and Joel quickly shook his head.

‘Didn’t find her, she took the horse and the gun. But I got the third one, brought it back here, put it in the garage with the others.’

‘We’ll have enough to get back, easy,’ Tommy calculated, and Joel agreed. He gazed back at Ellie, saw the way she was staring down at the tabletop as if it had secrets printed in the wood.

‘I might hit the hay,’ Tommy said, standing quietly and, catching Joel’s eye, nodding towards Ellie. ‘I’ll check in on Teach, make sure she’s restin’ easy.’

Joel’s shoulders finally fell, some of the tension leaking out of him. Suddenly he was so tired, his bones aching in the cold. He wavered a little as Tommy practically shouldered him into the chair beside Ellie, who watched him sit. In the lamplight her pale skin glowed, ethereal.

For a moment the two sat in silence, listening as Tommy’s footfalls quieted up the stairs.

‘M’sorry-‘

‘-sorry,’ Ellie said at the same time, the two of them stopping to smile nervously at the other.

‘What you sorry for, kiddo?’ Joel asked, reaching up to rub at his shoulder, the band of muscles tight all the way up to his jaw.

‘Comin’ out here, believing Shauna. Then Teach coming out, nearly getting…’

‘Stop,’ Joel said, moving forward to rest his hand on Ellie’s, turning it palm-up and gripping it. ‘This is on me, all of it. I wasn’t thinking straight.’

‘I heard what you said,’ Ellie said, her eyes still cast down. ‘This morning, that you thought I shouldn’t see Teach anymore. That I should spend more time with Shauna.’

Joel felt heat on his cheeks, a bubbling of something ugly and accusing in his belly.

‘I was trying to…keep the peace.’ He watched as Ellie scoffed, withdrawing her hand from him. ‘I was wrong,’ he said, quickly, hoping to catch her before she retreated from him entirely. ‘I was…weak. I was scared, I dunno. I shouldn’t have let her…’

At this, Joel trailed off. He wasn’t sure where to start, where exactly it had all truly begun. Was it when she pushed Ellie out into the studio? Was it when she essentially forced the Town Council to execute Steve and Wren? Was it when she arrived at the gates, injured and scared, having apparently scorched the earth here and running out of bridges to burn?

Was it when she left, the first time. When it was just him and Sarah, and he did his best not to show the anger, the hurt, for what he thought at the time was the sake of his little girl. Let her go on believin’ her mama might come back, let her go on leavin’ presents under the Christmas tree even years later. Didn’t really tell her what was goin’ on, just let her guess. Let her believe her mama might one day come for her, because he was too chicken shit to tell her the truth: Shauna never loved either of them, never had any capacity for love other than when it served her.

And he’d let her do it, let her leave and come back just to repeat the same shit twenty-five years later. Knew all that she was, knew what she was capable of, and kept her secrets just the same.

‘I should have protected you from her, and what she was doing…but I didn’t let myself see it, because I wasn’t strong enough to believe it for m’self,’ he said, eventually. He watched Ellie’s eyes go wide.

‘Woah,’ she muttered, and for a moment he just stared at her, the entirety of his circulatory system on display, his skin fleyed away. ‘That’s some serious honesty, man,’ she said, and then grinned at him. ‘Proud of you.’

Joel felt relief swirl light and cool in his belly, a huffed out little laugh escaping him.

‘Thank you, only took me a coupla decades,’ he said.

Ellie let her grin wane a little. ‘I thought I was gonna have to explain it to ya stupid ass,’ she said, and giggled with him.

Ellie rubbed at her eyes, the exhaustion suddenly plain on her face. Joel stilled, concern overtaking him.

‘Y’should sleep, Babygirl,’ he said, but Ellie was shaking her head.

‘Need to talk t’you,’ she said, shimmying her shoulders a little as if she could force the sleepiness off them.

Joel swallowed. ‘Wait…’ he said, because suddenly he was seeing visions of her telling him she wasn’t going back to Jackson, visions of her saying she was heading over the horizon to Salt Lake, to Washington, to some other QZ to try and find another nest of fireflies, a nightmare of her telling him she didn’t love him anymore after all that he did. ‘Wait, babygirl…I gotta tell you something,’ he said, watching her to make sure she’d let him.

She settled, uneasy, on her chair. Joel took a big breath. ‘When Shauna came back, and I first looked into her eyes, y’know what I saw?’

‘Sarah,’ Ellie said, easily, and Joel smiled a little. Of course she knew.

‘Yeah, Sarah.’

‘Y’told Tommy,’ Ellie said, casually throwing his younger brother under the bus, ‘and Tommy told me. I think he was worried I was mad at you.’

‘Are you?’

‘Yeah…but not for that part,’ she replied, with that honesty that could devastate him.

‘I kept her around, ignored all her shit, because…I felt like, I had to. I felt like Sarah was in there somewhere, like I could do her right somehow if I took in her mama.’

Ellie nodded, listening intently.

‘I was wrong, Babygirl,’ Joel said, his voice thickening under the strain of trying to get the words out before she abandoned him. ‘I see more of Sarah in you then I ever saw in those two eyes.’

Ellie blinked at him, reaching out to take Joel’s hand again, and he saw for the first time that it was trembling. He braced, took a breath. ‘See her in you when you’re givin’ me shit, when you make me eat m’breakfast…when you remind me to dress right for the cold. For so long I couldn’t even stand it, the way you reminded me of her.’

He swallowed. ‘The both of you…so smart, so funny. The way you do what’s right, always wanna do what’s right. Fix shit. Try to save people. Try to protect ‘em. She was like that. I loved that about her. I love that about you, too.’

He watched as Ellie’s eyes grew wet, mirroring his own. He wanted to reach up and wipe away the tear tracking down his cheek, but it would mean letting her go. ‘I saw you up there on that roof protectin’ Teach, trying to call them off ‘er.’ He tasted sour over the back of his throat, his heart beating wild in his chest, the image of you with your eyes shut tight wailing for them to come for you instead still seared onto the back of his eyelids. ‘Sarah was a smart girl, but that was brave, Babygirl. That was strong.’

He sucked in a breath, exhaling it long and slow out of his nose. ‘All this time I made you feel like you were matchin’ up to her, didn’t I?’ he asked, and his heart broke a little as she nodded. ‘You went out to that damn studio in the garage because you thought I didn’t need ya anymore, didn’t wantya now I had my old family back. Some of it, anyway.’ Again, Ellie nodded. Joel bit down on his bottom lip to stop it wobbling, wondering if he would draw blood. ‘I’ll never forgive m’self for making ya feel that way,’ he said. ‘Because she would have loved you, Babygirl. She woulda looked up t’ya, woulda done anythin’ she could to be a badass like her sister.’

At this, Ellie gasped, and Joel realised, for the first time, he’d said it out loud. Her sister.

‘Know I hurt ya, you and Teach.’ He had to remind himself not to grip her hand so hard he might break it, purposefully loosening his knuckles. ‘Just please…’ he said, a little gasped sob stopping him for a second. ‘Please…don’t give up on me.’

Ellie let his hand go, sliding back into the chair. Joel righted himself, wiping his face and mirroring her, trying to tamp down the panic washing up over the shore of his belly.

‘I don’t wanna stay in the studio,’ Ellie said, picking at the skin on her fingers.

‘You can come right back home…’ Joel agreed, but Ellie held her hand up to stop him and he trailed away. This was it. She was going to march off to meet her death on the side of some mountain, at the bottom of some ravine, at the end of a raider’s gun, and it would be as if he was the one that did it, slid the rocks out from under her feet, pushed her head under the water, pulled the trigger and painted her blood on the wall.

‘I want to stay with Teach,’ she rushed out, seeing that he was panicking, the way he was lifting his hand to his chest.

At this, Joel blinked, struggling to hear with one bad ear and the other full of blood and terror.

‘I…what?’ he asked.

‘I checked with her, she said it was OK if you said it was OK. She said…she could give me her spare room.’

Joel tried to digest this, tried not let the panic overtake him, the beast just behind his breastbone chanting under my roof, under my roof.

‘Did she?’ he asked, stupidly.

‘It’s not about…it’s not out of anger,’ Ellie said, her voice wavering a little. Later he would reflect on how hard this must have been for her, when he was able to assemble his thoughts into a line again. ‘I just…I need space. For a while. To get passed it all.’

‘You got space in the studio…’

‘Not there,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Doesn’t feel right, now. Maybe one day but…now it just feels like that place is all about…her.’

He knew he couldn’t protest, knew he had no right to howl in anguish or fury at the idea. Even in the studio she’d been too far away, but now this…

But she was staying in Jackson. And you would care for her, like she was your own.

‘M’so sorry, Babygirl…’ he said, the weight of the day suddenly pressing on him. ‘You go wherever y’feel comfortable, I don’t want you to feel like ya can’t be…yourself, where you are.’ The guilt was heavy on his back, and he shifted in his seat to try and ease the pressure of it, failing almost immediately.

‘It won’t be forever…’ Ellie said, and he realised she was consoling him, something he never wanted her to be in the position to have to do.

‘No, you take as long as you need,’ he said. ‘I’ll be alright, will give me time to practice my guitar without…judgement,’ he said, mustering enough courage to wink a little on the last word just in the hope it would make her smile. To his relief, it did.

‘Can burn all the mac and cheese you want,’ she grinned.

‘Whole place will smell like burnt noodles 24 hours a day,’ he said, feigning pride and puffing out his chest. She giggled at this, and he felt some of it brush up against the sharp edges, debride some of the scorched flesh.

‘Listen, you and Teach…’ Ellie said, and he grimaced.

‘We don’t have to…’

‘You and Teach,’ Ellie repeated, talking over him, and he quieted immediately, ‘I don’t need to know details, but you nearly fucked that up too, man,’ she reported.

‘She hate me?’ he asked her, and Ellie pretended to think for a second before she shook her head.

‘Hate’s a strong word,’ she smiled, ‘but she and I talked and…I mean, I’m fine, but you gotta…’

‘I know I gotta,’ he said, raising his eyes to the ceiling, imagining you tucked up on a mattress made of sagging springs and rotting cotton.

‘She’s good for you,’ Ellie said, and Joel let his eyes snap back to her. ‘Before Shauna, and all of that…you were doin’ better. I could see it in you.’

Joel smiled at this, the fatigue pulling hard now at his shoulders. ‘She was a badass today,’ Ellie said, and Joel nodded.

‘She gave you her gun, huh?’ he asked, and Ellie nodded.

‘Tch…stupid,’ Joel muttered, pretending to disapprove, braced for the whack Ellie immediately sent his way.

For a moment they both stilled. ‘I dunno, she just…she feels so warm, y’know?’ Ellie said.

Joel nodded. All this time he’d been worried he would steal that very same warmth for himself, when you’d been trying to give it to him, willingly.

‘Yeah, I know,’ he agreed.

--

You woke with a gasp, the tattered curtains doing nothing to shield against the dawn. You squinted, your body wound tight like a spring, your mind racing to catch up. Ellie on the roof, Wren meandering towards you, then up in Joel’s arms, your face pressed into his neck as you whimpered. Your sense-memories kicked in before the images played in your mind, your heart thrumming against the walls of your chest while you fought to get your bearings.  

Joel’s arms around you, holding you to him, up and into safety. Tight and strong. You could still feel them banded around your waist.

A soft little snore behind you made you freeze. You ran your hands under the blankets to feel the arms bracketing you, holding you again to him.

His warm breath pushed at the back of your neck, your legs tangled with his under the blankets. For a long moment you lay still, your eyes travelling passed the curtain to the vista beyond it, the snow-capped mountain where you had sent your gaze the night before, as you had prepared yourself to see Rose again, to be again with your parents. Knowing Ellie would be safe, to rest.

As the sun set last night over the trees, now the dawn broke across them. You let you a long breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding, felt the pull of the muscles under your jaw, a hot little tear threading its way down your cheek to the bare pillow beneath you.

‘Hey…’ you heard behind you, your little sniffles enough to wake such a light sleeper.

‘Sorry…’ you immediately started apologising, even as he turned you in his arms, pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and cocooned you in it, slipped his hand underneath your neck to cradle your head against the warmth of his skin. You gasped into him, feeling his pulse just beneath the skin as he pressed you to his throat.

‘Easy…easy…’ he whispered, and you sucked in a breath just to let it sob out of you.

‘M’sorry…’ you tried again, but he was having none of it, cooing to you with his lips to your brow, shushing you gently as you whimpered.

‘I thought I was going to…’ you stuttered, and he stilled, letting you get it out. ‘I was ready to, Joel. I was going to see Rose.’

He felt the weight of the words settle over his shoulders, felt the little tickle of heat behind his eyes.

‘Oh, my sweet girl,’ he whispered as you brought your hand to your face to shield yourself from him, from the sweetness of it, from the fault line emerging jagged and burning down your middle.

‘I got ready,’ you said, as he rolled to his back, pulling you with him and securing you fast to his chest. You cried into his neck, your face tucked away under his jaw.

‘No, not yet, baby,’ he cooed. ‘Not ready for that, yet.’

You felt the strength of his arms around you, the tightness of his hold, the tension in your muscles melting away under the press of him. Gradually you stilled, your gasping sobs simmering back into hiccupped little sniffles. Eventually you realised Joel had been speaking to you.

‘So brave…my smart, brave girl,’ he said, his mouth pressed again to your forehead. You closed your eyes, remembered the thundering of the horse as he rode to you, the world tilting as he pulled you to him, his whispered words as Tommy got Ellie off the roof.

Remembered the moment you saw her, had needed to pull her into your arms, to let your body feel her safe and sound, pressed her into your chest in the hope that your nervous system might finally start to believe.

You reached up and pushed your fingers through the buttonholes of Joel’s shirt, entwining yourself in him, weaving yourself into the fabric. You stilled as his hand came to rest on yours.

‘You found her, you got her back to me,’ he said, his voice thick. You raised your head and watched a tear track down his cheek. ‘Thank you, baby,’ he choked out.

The tear tracked a silver line down his skin, glowing in the light of the dawn. You pressed your lips to it, felt the moisture absorb into your skin, down into your bloodstream, where it mingled with yours.

‘She wants to live with me,’ you said, exhaustion pulling your head back down to rest on his cheek. ‘I won’t take her unless you say so.’

‘I know you’ll take good care of her,’ he said, earnest, to the peeling paint above your heads.

‘Do we go back to Jackson, now?’ you asked, your voice quiet.

‘I guess we do,’ Joel agreed, shifting his gaze to the window, eyeing up the cold. ‘Maybe when we’ve got the warmth of the day.’

You nodded, sniffling, still. You were hungry, and you were so tired, and you felt more exposed than you had in years, out beyond the walls. But Joel had you tucked up under his chin, wrapped in threadbare blankets on a lumpy mattress, and for the moment this was all you wanted, this moment to stretch out long and languid into the afternoon, this man beneath you and around you, before the world got so much harder all over again.

‘M’not ready to go back,’ you mumbled and he stilled, his hand suddenly gripping yours.

Panic seized him, commenced burrowing sharp claws into his chest. He knew he had hurt you, knew there was so much still to say, but he had thought Jackson was your home, had been yours before it had been his, and if either of you should choose to exile themselves due to the devastation he’d brought down upon you, it should surely be him.

‘…what?’ he gasped, letting his eyes track the blooming water stain in the ceiling to distract from the maw opening in his chest.

You raised your head to look at him properly, your tears dry on your cheeks. He gazed down at you, his heart beating so wildly in his chest he was sure you could hear it.

‘Please, Joel…’ you whispered, your eyes dropping to his lips as he felt them quiver. ‘I don’t want to go back to real life yet. I need to…I need…’

You trailed off, your cheeks pinking up in the gentle purple light breaking over the mountain.

He understood, then, pulling you up and over him so that he could properly crash his lips to yours. You reached up, pushing your fingers into his hair, feeling him shiver when you raked your nails over his scalp.

‘Oh, fuck…’ he whimpered into the cavern of your mouth, shifting his hips to seat you, straddled, above him.

‘Please…’ you whispered again, ‘I need to feel good.’  

‘I know, baby, I know,’ he muttered, cradling you to him as he stripped your shirt from your body, peppering kisses over every inch of skin as he exposed it.

‘Need to feel you…’ you huffed, reaching down to pull his own shirt over his head, seeking out the heat of his skin, feeling the muscles taut and shivering as he hissed at your touch on him. His chest, so impossibly broad, marred with scars from years of conflict. His arms, so strong and firm when he circled you in them. His knuckles, split and pink from the cold, rough against your skin as you pressed them to your lips.

You felt the ache in your core, the sudden feeling of emptiness enough to have you keen into the air above your head.

‘Ssh…’ Joel whispered, reaching up to pull you back down to him, kissing you deep and slow to swallow your groans. ‘Need to be quiet, baby, can’t wake up the whole house.’

You nodded, concentrating hard to try and make sense of what he was saying to you, distracted as you were by his hard length now nestled between your thighs. You rolled your hips, pushing down on him just enough to elicit a gasp from him and you smiled, then, victorious. You watched the dimple on his right cheek emerge as gave you a lopsided grin. ‘Cheeky girl,’ he said, as you rolled again.

You kissed him again, tasting him in your mouth, grasping his bottom lip between your teeth. How many nights had you spent imagining his beneath you like this, writhing and groaning?

‘God, baby, so beautiful,’ he muttered, grasping at your hip and pushing his clothed cock up to your mound. ‘I was so selfish when I had you on that damn couch,’ he gritted out, taking a second to gasp and regain his ability to speak. ‘Just took from ya…’

He pushed one foot into the mattress as he flipped you, catching your yelp in his palm over your mouth as he positioned you underneath him, reaching down to pull your pants and your underwear off and down your legs.

‘Wanna give now, baby, just like you deserve,’ he promised as you let your eyes fall closed, his words a soothing balm over your frayed nerves.

You fumbled for his waistband, fumbling fingers in the way of his as you pulled at him. He grinned, removing his hand from over your mouth to slip the fabric free of his hips. You allowed yourself a single glance.

He was beautiful, like he’d been carved out of marble just for your eyes. His cock, hard and thrumming as it was, thick and almost purple he was so hard. You swallowed a moan, turning your head to sink your teeth into his forearm to keep yourself from making a sound. He let our a surprised laugh.

‘Been thinking about this pretty little cunt ever since I tasted her,’ he informed you, his eyes roaming over your body as you lay beneath him, panting and your chest red. He leant down, unable to resist, to slip a nipple between his lips and tugged gently at the bud between his teeth. Your hands automatically went to his hair, turning his curls over in your fingers as you whimpered above him. ‘This beautiful little cunt all spread open for me on that fuckin’ couch,’ he said, using his free hand to trace his way down your body to tease, gently, between your thighs. You felt his fingers trace your slit, gently ghosting up and down over the skin and you keened for him, rolled your hips as if you could grasp him and bring him into yourself through sheer force of will.

‘Thought about you…’ you confessed, suddenly emboldened by your overwhelming need for him, by the pulsing of your cunt so close to his touch. ‘About your mouth on me, about your fingers.’

‘Bout my cock?’ he asked, and you nodded, your eyes finding his as he slipped his fingertip to your clit, finding the little bundle of nerves straining for him. You gasped as he made tight little circles, played you like an instrument made just for his hands.

‘Oh…!’ you gasped as he descended, lay his body on you and captured your lips in a searing kiss. He kept his mouth clamped as he slid his fingers between your folds, his weight pressing you into the mattress and enrobing you in him. He bit back a groan as he explored you, felt your slick gathering at the peak of your thighs.

‘Please…’ you whimpered into his mouth, bring your face to the side to again bring your mouth to his bicep, whispering pleas into his skin. ‘Please, need you, please don’t tease me…’ you begged.

He shifted, settling between your thighs, watching your face as you opened your eyes to follow him as he moved above you.

‘God, baby…’ he said, and you nodded at him, agreeing wholeheartedly with all the things in this moment he couldn’t find the words to say.

Joel took a second to breathe, to record this moment in his mind, so unsure if he would ever get another one like it. He shook himself, sliding a shaking hand over his length and pushing to notch at your entrance.

He watched your face as he found his home in you. Saw the way your face relaxed, from saddled brows and gasping pleas to closed eyes, slack jaw, your mouth hanging open as he stretched you. He leant forward to take your chin in his hand, nibbling little kisses to your chin as he hitched your leg over his hips to sink himself in, deeper.

Heaven. Maybe he had died down on that street after all. He shivered as you raised your hands to his back, cradling him to you, your sweet little whimpers hot in his ear.

‘So big…’ you gasped, as he stole your lips in another kiss.

‘M’sorry, baby,’ he started, the pleasure running rampant over his brain stem, words suddenly bubbling up from deep inside. ‘M’so sorry, I just took…I just took…’ he said, sorrow melding with white hot joy. ‘Wanna give it all back, everythin’ anyone ever took from ya,’ he choked out, half out of his mind now, feeling a crack appearing in a long-held dam. ‘Wanna love you, baby, like you should be.’

You were gasping, taking fast, shallow breaths as he pushed impossibly deeper inside you, whimpering as tears gathered again on your cheeks.  

‘Joel…’ you mewled, and he sobbed out your name to pair it.

‘Will never hurt you again,’ he promised, cradling your head in his hands as he went up on his elbows above you, kissed the tears where they ran. ‘Will only love you, baby, I promise. I promise.’

You fluttered around him, and he thought as long as he lived he’d never feel peace as this, never feel so at home as he was buried inside your beautiful, warm body.

He ground against you, his pubic bone pushed hard and unforgiving into your clit. You lifted your head to Joel’s shoulder, sinking your mouth into the muscle to stop yourself from crying out at the burning pleasure of it, the building ache.

‘I can’t…’ you whined, ‘I can’t hold it back, Joel…’

‘Don’t you dare hold it back, wanna see you come’ he gritted out, purposefully grinding harder on your clit just to watch your brows arch.

You shook your head. No, no, not that. Couldn’t hold the world back, couldn’t hold back the encroaching dark. Couldn’t hold the love back, rushing up to meet you as you crashed, as you fell all the way down.

You took his face in your hands, desperate to get him to understand. He dipped his hips, his pace slowing as he ground deeper into you, his eyes searching yours. You shook your head again, scared to speak lest you let it all go.  

You knew after this it wasn’t going to be easy. That after this there would be hard conversations, long-healing wounds. That after this the sharp edges would reappear, the hardness of the world encroaching again. But in this moment, Joel nestled deep inside you, his skin between your teeth and his arms wrapped so tight against you. In this moment you were safe, in this moment the cold and the darkness could never get to you. In this moment your salvation and your forgiveness, in this moment your acceptance of his flaws and of yours. In this moment, well beyond the walls to protect you, freer than you had ever been.

You couldn’t contain it. The tremorous fear, the scorch of it, the aching. Couldn’t let it go, terrified to let it consume you.

You watched realisation dawn across his face.

‘Oh baby, I know,’ he said, resting his forehead on yours as he felt the wildfire begin at the base of his spine. ‘S’OK, baby,’ he assured you as you writhed beneath him. ‘We’ll go together, we’ll go together, my sweet girl.’  

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

No one in Jackson had a lot of stuff, so Ellie fit quite nicely into your spare bedroom, and into your life. As soon as she’d settled into her new space you settled into your new routine of waking her in the morning, ignoring her grumbling, making her eat some oats or some toast and packing her off to walk with you to school. Of an afternoon she’d go off with Dina or her group of steadily solidifying friends, returning to your doorstep for dinner just as the sun dipped low over the horizon.

Some nights she’d help you cook, cutting the potatoes with a steady hand, her concentration poking her tongue out of the corner of her mouth. Other days you would send her down to the mess hall to bring back something, holding the leftovers in the fridge for the morning.

Before bed you’d get her to read to you for a little bit, and her pompous English accent was coming along. It had worked especially well for Persuasion, but less so for The Great Gatsby.

‘I don’t see what was so great about this Gatsby guy,’ she proclaimed, screwing up her face in distaste.

‘Mmm,’ you agreed, non-committal. ‘Let’s see how that plays out.’

You kept telling yourself she was your roommate, so you resisted the urge to tutor her, to parent her, in the times when you weren’t at school. You had stumbled upon a somewhat motivating phrase one afternoon when she was feeling restless, talking about sneaking Dina out of her house past curfew to go and hang out with some of the younger patrolmen behind the Bison, asking her with a patient tone ‘What would Joel say?’. She’d stayed tucked up in bed that night, and every night the rest of that week.

And some afternoons you knew that she left school and went to stand on the wall with him, chatting to him and keeping him entertained until his shift was over and she came back home. You resisted the urge to ask about him, wanting to give her the time with him, to give yourself the time just the same.

When you’d returned to Jackson you hadn’t had to ask him, knew that he sensed it anyway, in that way that he had. You cooled things off with Jonah, kept your head down thinking about the next year’s curriculum, considering whether you could safely incorporate some kind of field trips beyond the wall so the kids could be safe if they ever got stuck out there. The Town Council were considering the idea, even though Billy wasn’t keen.

And you kept clear of Joel, letting the wound settle a little before you poked it, parts of your life still feeling purple and bruised where he had been. Sometimes you and Rose discussed it of a nighttime, and you were surprised to find she was on your side. She counselled not guarding your heart too closely, when the time was right that you felt you could let him in. When you were ready. Until then, you knew he was there.

--

Joel worked the wall, his eyes on the horizon and on the streets beneath him. If he got up early enough, started his shift a little early, he could be up in time to see you and Ellie make your morning pilgrimage to your little schoolhouse on the hill. He wouldn’t feel settled until he saw it, your two figures disappearing around the corner, wrapped up against the cold.

He filled his time. He was getting better at guitar, remembering some old tunes he hadn’t thought of for a long time, some of Sarah’s favourites if he remembered properly. Of a nighttime he would come down off the wall and make his way to Tommy’s, have a quick bite for dinner and head back home before Robin got too grizzly. He probably wouldn’t ever be able to tell him, but he was proud of the father Tommy was becoming, of the leaders he and Maria were for Jackson. He’d never be able to say how grateful he was to his brother for helping him secure this second chance.

And then there were his favourite afternoons, the ones where Ellie would amble down the hill just as the light started fading, vault up the ladder and keep him company ‘til shift change. The first time she’d done it he’d stood, his hands in his pockets and almost too scared to turn to her, keeping his back stiff and upright looking out over the treeline. She’d settled beside him, resting against a pillar and gazing out and up over the mountain. She hadn’t said anything of any consequence, nothing of any meaning, her presence there just enough for him.

The second time he’d asked her if she liked her new place and she agreed that she did, even though you were always trying to teach her things. He grinned at that, his mind conjuring up an image of you, exasperated, trying to make Ellie concentrate on a twenty-year old textbook.

‘She makes me do the accents,’ Ellie complained to him, and he huffed out a laugh into the grimy light of the late afternoon.

‘I know you well enough to know no-one can make you do anythin’, kiddo,’ he deadpanned and watched as the blush spread over her cheeks.

‘Next week we’re starting our new unit,’ she informed him, and his ears perked up at this.

‘Yeah, what she gotcha doing?’ he asked.

‘The Middle Evils,’ Ellie replied, and Joel grinned, not correcting her. That was a battle you could fight just fine on yer own.

After Ellie disappeared down your street for dinner he contemplated following her, seeing if you’d let him in. He held himself back, knowing that was selfish, that he needed to be patient for you. That he’d earned this penance, this atonement. Knew that he would wait for you, until the world’s very last dawn, even if he secretly hoped it would be sooner than that. Until then, he knew you were there.

--

Ellie called out from the front door, pushing her boots off so as not to track in the snow.

‘There’s another one!’ she called, and you felt a little bubble of something in your chest.

‘What is it this time?’ you called back, your hands busy as you sat at the kitchen table.

‘It’s a guy…umm…he’s got a helmet on, and a little sword?’

You thought for a second.

‘A knight?’ you asked.

She entered the room, dropping the carefully carved figure on the table in front of you. He even had a little shield.

‘Were they like…the Middle Evil soldiers or something?’ Ellie asked and you sighed, having corrected her enough times to know she was now doing it on purpose.

‘Like…ancient FEDRA,’ you said, and she screwed up her nose.

‘Ugh, gross,’ she said. She settled beside you, picking up a coloured sheet of paper and a pair of scissors you’d borrowed from the seamstress in town.

Thoughtfully, she started cutting.

‘I saw him this time,’ she said, and you felt your hands shake a little as you made the final snip to your paper star.

‘He’s normally so sneaky,’ you said, and she huffed in agreement.

‘I think maybe he wanted to be seen,’ Ellie said, matter-of-factly.

‘What makes you say that?’ you asked, but Ellie didn’t answer, now fully engrossed in cutting the stars. You were giving Prom another go, hoping for no further interruptions this time. The theme was Winter Wonderland, which just so happened to necessitate the triumphant return of Ellie’s decorational genius.

‘I wondered about inviting him in,’ she said, after a while.

‘Is he good with scissors?’ you asked, trying to massage some feeling back into your hand.

‘One way to find out,’ Ellie said. You saw her watching you, carefully, out of the corner of your eye.

‘You think you’re ready for that?’ you asked her, and she levelled you with an honest gaze.

‘I am if you are,’ she said. You felt a little flip in your stomach, a traitorous little spark of something that could have been excitement, could have been fear.

‘Umm…’ you said. Out of the corner of your eye Rose smiled warmly at you, nodding slowly, always so kind, so calm. You'd try to be more like her.

‘I mean, there’s still so many of these to cut,’ you said, after a while. Ellie grinned, jumping up from the table and down the hall, flinging the door open hard enough to whack it into the wall.

Not for the first time, Ellie’s enormous voice rang out, clear as a bell and knocking the wind from you.

‘COME IN, JOEL! SHE SAID YES!’ she called.

Taglist (and extra special thank you list)

@harriedandharassed

@vickie5446

@kaseyconnour

@orcasoul

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@atorturedpoetatmidnight

[maximwtf]

“Stood upon your grave…”

Capitano x Guard!Reader

Words: 2530

Google Docs Pages: 4

Warnings: 5.3 spoilers, mentions of death and passing, mourning, angst/no comfort but also kind of at the end? But the comfort is also kinda sad, we all crying at the clurb, platonic I think, a small tma reference

Opening: Standing upon his resting place, you allow some thoughts to pass your mind. Why did things turn out this way? What is your purpose now?

AN// G/N Reader. Haha, It’s my 20th birthday so I get to write Capitano angst for yall before getting back to working on everything else :D I love this man so much yall don’t understand, I tweak out at the sight of one edit of him xd

“Stood upon your grave…”

Feet planted firmly against the rough stones, unable to move further in that moment. The steps ahead appearing as an obstacle far too tiring to attempt defeating. The frost on the old steps appeared like fresh snow, reminding you of home. Some of the ice had chipped off of the icey pillars and snowed down peacefully. Even the wind felt colder, sending a shiver down your spine. It felt almost eerie, like it didn’t belong here. The air surrounding the throne and the steps leading to it felt colder the further up the stairs you slowly walked. 

The icey walls protecting the now sacred spot kept everything within its cold hold, never allowing a moment of warmth to pass. Even through the warm clothing, the cool touch of the air somehow reached you, as if welcoming in the new visitor. Staying by your side even when the steps at the very top started feeling heavier. When the image of what was awaiting at the very top started coming into view better. It being exactly what you’d expected, what you knew was waiting. Yet the same old sting followed even without the help of the cold bites of the cool air. 

Not even having noticed your breath turning into soft white puffs as it came out, your eyes stayed glued on the figure sitting still on the throne. Right in front of you, the chest of this now empty shell, still continuing its age old movement. As if still breathing in the fresh cool air, taking a moment of rest. An aching sight, yet it made no change to the stoic expression you had carried all the way up here. 

You wanted to pretend you’d come to terms with the events that had transpired in this very place. Yet each time this place had laid its gaze upon you, you’d arrived with new thoughts to share. That being the exact same reason for your arrival this time as well. It didn’t feel right to visit if you had nothing to say, like you were wasting someone’s time. A part of you humoring the thought of someone, perhaps him, listening to your rambles. At least it felt like someone did when the very person you were talking to had to appear so life-like. And if you’d been anyone else, maybe you’d found solace in that thought. But to you, the sight only brought a deep feeling of bitterness. It raised questions which had no one to answer them, likely no one to listen to them either. It was a pain to know someone fated as he had been, so well. 

And here again, stood upon your grave, “I think I finally understand why you brought them peace.” You began explaining a recent revelation, folding your hands neatly before you. Guard lowered, no weapon in sight on your form. Just the captain and someone who’d once considered themselves as a follower. Willing to give their life for this person in battle, if it meant serving what he’d believed in. 

But that aside, you wanted to believe you’d truly come to a conclusion this time. Not because you wanted to stop visiting, but because it felt like it’d been ages since his departure. And the never ending thoughts running through your head like a cat chasing a mouse were beginning to boil over. 

Yes, he’d needed to finish the mission he’d given himself. A man of his word, a fitting description in your mind. He’d promised those poor souls peace, a place to call home once it was time to finally rest. He’d served without complaining for the whole time you’d known the man, not a word spoken of what he had put himself through in order to gain pity. 

500 long years of absolute life, having carried the souls of his men, died beside him, the whole way. Not a single night of rest nor a singular complaint. He’d made a promise, dedicated his time for the cause. Carrying those weeping souls within him while travelling the nations. Heart as pure as the first snowflakes of the winter, hosting a temporary home for the otherwise lost. For the men he had felt like he’d let down. Having watched their homeland become nothing but a story for others to tell. He’d watched his very own troops fall under the immense power of the enemy, leaving him to soothe their souls when they yelled out in terror within him. His people. 

Having lost himself in the process, what he’d considered himself before then. Watched his body rot as time went on but never really caught up with him. Not like it seemed to do to the people around him. Of which, none did he ever leave behind. Those brave souls deserved to be remembered, they deserved a place to rest. An end he grew ever so slightly envious of as time ticked by. What he wished he could one day gain when he’d finally rest his eyes after 500 years. 

But stood upon your grave, “I just don’t understand why you left me behind.” The words left your lips, shattering the conclusion you’d built previously. Even if what you’d thought happened to be exactly how he’d felt, the question still stood at the back of your mind. Capitano had left with the souls on their last mission, together. With honor, no less. But he’d left you behind, without a purpose. Wasn’t this existence the very same as that of those poor souls? 

You’d joined his ranks around the time he’d been appointed the title of The Captain. Following him ever since, without a doubt of his skills as a leader for his men. Having aligned your morals based on what he’d believed in. Not to mention the skills he’d taught the people he commanded. You’d even caught people outside his troops picking up movements you had noticed the captain using. His name was a heavy one to speak, he was respected well outside his troops. And it wasn’t out of fear, it was genuine acknowledgement for his skills and power.

You’d been by his side for long enough to have figured out what he’d been attempting, even if you hadn’t known the full truth by then. How he had travelled from nation to nation, examining the ley lines there. He’d been so insistent on finding a rest place for ‘something’ you hadn’t figured out back then, that it’d been the first time you had doubted following him. But out of respect and trust, you hadn’t turned away even then. And perhaps that’d been for the best. Hadn’t you done that, there would have likely never been a chance to understand even half of what had transpired after. 

How could have you understood why he’d decided to give his life away like this, if you hadn’t seen the attempts before? This was no simple task, not for a mere human. Of which you had to remind yourself from time to time. He was but a human, even if he wasn’t allowed to live as one. 

He’d dedicated so much time on research for the perfect nation, for the right resting place for his people. Had he not failed in the past, you wouldn’t have figured most of his plan out by yourself. Realising only the rest by the very end. A time far too late to tell him no, not when he’d revealed the rest to you so willingly. Like a sickening farewell. 

Before being so aware, you’d watched him struggle with the curse, the rot. Still fully unaware of the extent of this and what it truly meant. What he’d been dealing with for the past 500 years, watched the man he’d once been get completely erased beyond recognition. How the lack of rest wore him down, but the rot corroded even that. His exterior having concealed the screams of the dead for so long. But he’d still somehow never given up on the mission he’d set for himself. 

At times it felt like you’d seen too much, like you had understood something you weren’t meant to. Truthfully wishing what you’d found out had been a misunderstanding or a trick of the eye, each time. But you knew it was all unfolding before your eyes in full truth, and he was always so aware of this. To a point where you slowly realised he was allowing you to follow, to see what he was, who he was. And most of all, what he was planning on putting into action. Only filling in the rest at the very end of the line. 

He knew you’d figure it out at some point in the far future. But he, if anyone understood the pain time was able to cause, there was no need to cause that for you. Not when he wasn’t ashamed of his goal. “But death is the end I’ve been trying to reach all along,” was what he’d said. An odd thing to hear from someone cursed with absolute life, you’d thought to yourself then. So you’d been right, in the right direction at the very least. But this revelation didn’t feel like something to celebrate over. The reality of hearing him say that, admit he’d yearned for his end for so long felt painful. Selfishly so, now that you knew the pain of his existence. 

Was it selfish to stare at the aftermath of his long plan, and wish he hadn’t succeeded? Was it fair to even let that thought cross your mind when he’d so willingly gave up his life to save the nation you were now able to visit peacefully? To wish that he hadn’t found the solution now, maybe never? You almost wished to once more be unaware of the suffering he’d been through, just to let yourself soak in those selfish thoughts. 

After all, this had ultimately been the end he’d wished for. No one had told him to sacrifice his life here, he’d wished for that to happen. To give his life, extended beyond belief, for something that mattered to him. Allowing the continuation of the life of someone who was now greatly needed in the nation. It almost made you laugh, how far he’d been willing to go just so that his very own end was so fitting to his character. Of the man that even the curse hadn’t been able to corrode. 

It was selfish to wish he’d come back. But admitting that hurt when you knew how many of his close comrades he’d finally allowed peace, but left you behind. A soldier and a trusty guard, now something you couldn’t find a word for. Seen by no one, and at the same time having no one to follow. A person without a clear tomorrow, purely because the dedication in their life sat unmoving in front of them. Because you couldn’t have asked him to carry the burden of allowing you to join him in death. You couldn’t have asked him to carry your soul along those crying one’s who’d gotten their life cut short. Not by choice, by force. That felt disrespectful then, so it did now. Even while wallowing in grief.

But stood upon your grave, you couldn’t help but wonder why you couldn’t have joined them in the honor of leaving for a permanent home. Why he’d been so adamant about leaving you behind when he was no longer here. How unfair it felt to be stood here alone, with no way to change the past. Not knowing if you should have blamed the curse, perhaps the one to blame was Ronova herself? Or maybe you should have been blaming the five sinners of Khaenri'ah? Or could have you blamed yourself for not figuring his plan out earlier and maybe you could have aided him? No, any excuse was useless in the end. There was no one you could find in your hands to blame for this fate, seemingly set in stone so long ago. 

He’d done his all for his troops, his comrades. For his homeland, long before its downfall. And even after, he’d dedicated his life to so many others without hesitation. He’d done it all for his own name and honor. This was a man worthy of unyielding respect. 

So if there was no further use for your services, no purpose anymore that was verbally given, you had to find it yourself. And maybe that’d been exactly why he’d left you behind, why he’d allowed you to see and hear everything you now knew. Every detail he’d allowed you to learn of himself, to set your memory up as a library for his memory. Your dedication to him was far from its end, was what you’d decided then. 

If you were no use to anything else, you’d serve the dead. His memory was deeply engraved into your memory. Every detail you had held on to during these years being by his side. You’d make sure the memory of him would last eternally, exactly as he’d told it himself. As the honorable man he’d been to the very end.  

The very same cool wind blew against the hem of your coat, standing upon his grave. It was peaceful for him here, not many dared to take the trip to visit. It sounded like a crying shame to say out loud, but then again, maybe he needed the peace to rest. After all, this had been the first time in 500 years he’d been allowed to truly shut his eyes for a moment. 

Your eyes travelled to gaze at the bundle of red in your hands. Clutched there tightly without even noticing the force behind it. A gift you’d brought for him here, that now felt like some new form of a goodbye that you didn’t want to admit.

The deep red petals of the beautiful spider lily swayed a little along with the wind. Somehow still just as sorrowful yet beautiful as when you had picked it up. You’d tied a few laurel leaves to the bottom of the flower, bending them a little so they looked like actual leaves of the flower.  

You weren't sure if he was still around enough to be able to appreciate the thought behind it, yet you still placed the small bouquet of flowers on his lap. Tugging them safely in place, protected from the winds and cold. Backing up a little to look at the sight now. A small drop of blood red laying upon his lap, a chest aching sight. 

You stayed for a moment longer. Staring at the man, at the red spider lily encased with laurel leaves sitting on his lap. Trying hard not to find peace within the sight, not willing to admit that this was the end he’d wanted. This was an end to his journey, something that’d been up for him to decide. 

The cool wind swayed the hem of your coat along with it now that you stood further from the throne. But the dark icey pillars around the man kept him safe, kept the flower safe with him. Continuing his work even without realising it. Keeping the beings who trusted him with their life safe. 

[annisassintchaska]

THE DENIED FEELINGS

Lewis Hamilton × Black!Reader

Today is a not so busy day as it is media day. Majority of the interviews have already been done, so Lewis is on his very last one, when he spots HER. The woman he had spent the previous night with, who is also the journalist that had interviewed him before everyone else this morning.

Watching as she walks past, not realising he was standing there, she makes her way for the exit. he turns back to the current Journalist in front of him, hoping that she would hurry with her questions so that he can catch the beautiful woman who walked pass before she leaves for the hotel.

A few minutes later, he answers the last question, says his farewell then speedwalk towards the journalism department, yet when he arrived was informed that she had already left. A deep sigh falls from Lewis' lips, a stressed expression on his face as he thanks the lady's coworker and leaves towards the hotel...the same hotel that everyone including the woman he was hunting also resides for the race week.

Upon arrival to the hotel, he quickly goes up to his room, take shower, straighten his room and clean up whatever mess was made that morning before leaving his room to her. On the walk there, Lewis reflected on the night they had; the intimate talk, the sharing of hopes and goals, let's not forget the passionate lovemaking that had taken place that relaxed his body, mind and soul in a way nothing or no one had been able to do before.

Coming to a stop at her room door, he take a few deep breaths before knocking on the door. after a minute, the door opens but its not the person he expects. "Carlos?" he whispers out in surprise, Carlos himself looking shocked to see the 7x world Champion there. "Hey, I came to get some clarification on an interview timeline." Carlos says softly, noticing Lewis' questioning gaze. Lewis nods in response and watches as Carlos disappears down the hall before entering and closing the door behind himself.

Turning around, he spots the woman he fell in love with in a red, silk lingerie covered by her matching silk robe. Ironically, he knocks on the already closed door behind him to alert her of his presence. "You're already inside, knocking is useless." Y/N mumbles, her back still facing him as he begins to walk closer to her. "Why are you here?" she asks softly, turning to face him, a plate of freshly warmed food in her hands. "I'm here to talk...about what happened last night. I need to express what I felt." The older, mature man says.

"I'm listening Sir Lewis" Y/N says softly while chewing. She takes a seat at her dining table, her eyes on him. "I'm going to be honest...when you had offered to spend the night with me, I expected it to be some sloppy time that ended quickly with you leaving but still hunting me after the actions...I didn't expect to be hooked after everything happened. The conversation, the fact that you weren't prying, you asked about just me, wanting to get to me and not the driver, the celebrity but the person. The genuine advice you gave, the warm and comforting aura you poured into me...it was as if I was in heaven on cloud nine. Lastly the intimate time we had after it all...it was magical, felt ethereal, as if it caressed my soul and made it at peace. I had the most wonderful rest last night to the point I slept pass my alarm this morning, almost late to your interview. To sum this all up, I just want to tell you that for the very first time in my life, I've felt the connection this strong with a woman...I know we've only spent a night with each other, but I'm asking...please, will you allow me to take you out to dinner? On a proper date?" Lewis expresses and wait for her response.

Y/N takes a few moments to collect herself and think. "Lewis...not to say I'm not interested, but have you considered what may happen if the world finds out about this? I'm 24 and you're 39, I'm a journalist and you're a driver. They will accuse me of being biased with ratings and interviews, I may even lose my job.... As much as I want to accept to date you, I'm going to need some time to think" The Jamaican woman says softly, her gaze on him lovingly though her words were otherwise.

MAYBE AFTER A WHILE SHE WILL ACCEPT OR NOT?

[bamboobooshark]

REMY LEBEAU X LITTLE!READER

⊹ ࣪ ˖🂱 ⋆˚⟡ BROKEN RULES : 840 WRDS

<RATING: PG, FLUFF, CRYING, AGERE>

A/N : “Bamb can we please get content other than X-Men agere?!” Not yet!!!!!! Please!!!!! My only CGs are fictional!!!! And I’m also in the process of writing a Wolvie request, Rogue headcanons, and tons of other stuff… ANYWAY uhm this is based off of one of my CG!Remy headcanons, so I hope y’all enjoy :]

<SFW INTERACTIONS ONLY, MDNI/18+ ONLY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED>

Remy has been watching you all day. From the moment you came running to him because you had a nightmare at almost three in the morning, making you breakfast, watching Saturday morning cartoons, coloring with you, listening to some music, and playing card games with you. He was so tired right now. He tries his best to keep himself awake while being slumped against the couch. His hand absentmindedly runs up and down your back. You’re snuggled against his side with the back of your head pressing his chest. You kick your feet a bit off of the couch. Everything is so peaceful right now: Remy’s touch, his soft humming, your favorite movie on the TV, the sound of your legs moving against the fabric of the couch. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Remy yawnes loudly, unable to contain his sleepy demeanor any longer. He moves his arm from your back to rest against your shoulder, his thumb reaching up and rubbing your cheek. “Gambit’s sorry, cher. I’m tired right now. I can barely keep my eyes open,” he mumbles while looking down at you with a tired gaze. It takes you a moment to process what he’s saying considering how focused you are. Once you get a second to take in what he said, you pout softly. You paw at his chest and give him a pitiful look while whining. He lets out a sad huff. Remy hates it when you’re sad. He doesn’t get angry; he just gets sad too. You’re his favorite little kid. He can’t let you be sad.

“Stay awake a little longer. Please, papa. I don’ want you to go to sleep,” you whine to him. Remy nods in understanding to your gentle pleading. “I know, mon chéri. But I can’ stand to be awake much longer,” he tells you. He displays an odd look on his face as he attempts to come up with a compromise. When he does, he kisses your forehead out of pure joy for thinking of such a good idea. “How ‘bout this? You an’ I go upstairs an’ cuddle. You can stay wit’ Gambit and he can stay wit’ you, cher,” he suggests with a sure smirk. Despite his confidence in his idea, you shake your head no. Remy bites the inside of his cheek nervously in response. He subconsciously holds his breath as worry begins to set in. He can’t let you go unsupervised or not be by his side. You and him have to be practically attached when you’re regressed. The last thing he wants is for you to end up lonely or anything worse. You go back to focusing on your movie, and Remy trusts himself; he could take a little power nap. Nothing too long, right?

 

He may have been a little far off. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up to a startling clanging and the sound of your feet quickly padding along the floor. He rubs his eyes and cards through his messy hair while looking around. The second he hears you crying, he goes into complete panic. “Oh! Mon chéri! Where are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asks out loud while getting onto his feet and trying to find you. You’re cowering in fear behind the couch, terrified that Remy is going to yell at you or punish you. However, when he finds you, he gives you the most genuine smile ever. He squats down and holds his hands out to you. “C’mon. Gambit ain’t mad. He is worried t’ough. He was scared you were hurt,” he explains to you while motioning for you to come into his arms. You nod your head and try your best to get to Remy your vision blurred by tears. “Dat’s it, mon chéri,” he praises as he pulls you to his chest. He wipes your tears and gently pets the back of your head with his warm hands.

“Now, care to tell Ol’ Remy what happened?” he asks sweetly. You nod your head against his chest slowly. You point over to the curtain rod that had fallen on the floor. Remy looks over with wide eyes and winces at the idea of every possibility of what could’ve happened. “I was walkin’ by the window and I slip on the curtain. I didn’ mean to make the metal thingy fall. I’m sorry, papa,” you explain, your voice quivering as you start crying again. “No, no, no. Dat ain’t no reason to be sorry. I promise. I don’t got any reason to be upset with you either. Long as mon chéri is safe,” he assures you, lifting up your hand to kiss the back of your palm. You giggle through your tears when he gives you the gentle kiss. Remy wipes another tear from your cheek and looks at you endearingly. “Dat’s it. Show Ol’ Remy dat adorable lil’ smile,” he coos. Out of impulse to do so, he pinches your cheeks softly, only resulting in more happy noises from you.

[m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s]

DUCKY! I love the idea of Crosshair calling his beloved Ducky. Not to project myself or to give a plot idea, I was chased by a duck when I was tree years old. It's a core memory of mine. Anyways, I just came to formally request something along the lines of Crosshair calling his female S/O Ducky because it feels like it would just be so cute!! ❤️✨

YES THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS YESSSSS

also did i like finish this and then forget to post it.

yes.

does it matter?

no.

also, let me know if you guys would be interested in a part 2, because i really want to, and it would be so cool if someone requested it okay anyway here is the fic :)

—

Crosshair x F!Reader, pt. 1

Word Count: 1,637 words

Warnings: N/A, besides use of nicknames

Genre: Angst & Hurt/Comfort, but there’s no comfort at all, it’s just hurt

Description: An argument with Crosshair leads to a ducky conclusion.

—

Lucky Ducky

—

You had to be an idiot to think this mission was going to go well. Idiotic. Out of your mind.

Magically, your alarm hadn’t gone off this morning. You knew for a fact you had set it last night, you even remember wishing Tech a “good night” before setting it. It was set, you were positive.

Funnily enough, the gear you had set out for yourself the following morning was also gone, strewn randomly around the ship. The rest of the Batch didn’t appreciate the messily placed gear, even though you knew for a fact you had set it all up for yourself.

Oh, and your pillow.

Warm.

Both.

Sides.

You knew exactly what had happened to your alarm, the gear, the pillow. Or better yet, who.

Who was also paired with you during this mission.

What Hunter was thinking, you’ll never know. Pairing you with Crosshair was a choice. A very, very, very idiotic choice.

Crosshair and you had never gotten along. For as long as you had been with the Batch’s chaotic family dynamic, Crosshair was an estranged member. Extremely estranged from you.

From the start, he had been pushing your buttons left and right, up and down, side to side. Jamming, breaking, everything he could do to annoy you, upset you, anything at all. Even though you could jab back, he still annoyed you to no end.

Like right now.

“Hurry it up, sweetheart. You’re holding me up,” Crosshair declared, paces ahead of you.

You had been trapezing with Crosshair through the grassy landscape. Mossy green trees towered above you, poppy reds, baby blues, and sunset oranges decorated the grass in the shape of flowers. The sun was high, clouds cradling the energy source. It should have been extremely relaxing.

Peaceful.

“Holding you up, or holding you back?” You grumbled, trampling through some brush Crosshair had failed to hold back for you. You were positive he had done that on purpose.

“Both.” He responded, still walking ahead of you.

“Get over yourself, princess.” You commented, mood souring from how annoying the sniper could be.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever, princess.”

An irritated sigh escaped Crosshair’s lips, helmet removed in the short spout of insults.

Maker, you couldn’t stand him.

Luckily, you were fast approaching the hillside you needed to keep eyes from while the rest of the Batch snuck into a base. It housed some tech thing you needed, and you and Crosshair were to “get along and keep watch”.

You could keep watch, but get along? That would be a stretch. Yet now, finally up here, it was a perfect time to confront him.

You two approached the top of the hillside, Crosshair preparing to settle in for the watch.

This was the time to strike.

“I know you messed with my stuff,” you mentioned nonchalantly, turning towards the sniper. He was getting his weapon ready, eyeing you with that annoying smirk he had.

“Not sure what you mean there, sweetheart.”

So annoying.

“I know you messed with my stuff! I know you turned off my alarm, and you moved my gear, and both sides of my pillow were warm!” You exclaimed, spinning to face him.

Anger was beginning to simmer in your blood, aggravation tickling the nerves of your already short fuse with Crosshair. A fuse that could spark at any moment, yet you knew if you reigned your emotions in for long enough, you could spark him when the time was right.

“Still not sure what you mean, sweetheart,” he sneered, body now turning to face you in response. His demeanor remained unchanged, but his eyes were starting to narrow.

“I know you messed with my stuff, Crosshair,” you remarked, the springy green landscape suddenly becoming interesting. If you played it right, you would be successful.

He just had to take the bait.

“You know, it’s wrong to frame people,” he answered, walking forward for a better scope on the hillside. You could give up now, but you felt persistent today.

And he had taken the bait.

“Well then I guess it’s wrong to say I’m a better shot than you.”

It was like his breathing stopped.

“What.”

Time to push his buttons. Revenge for him messing with your morning.

“Well, I mean, it’s true. My shot has gotten better at the range. I would say it even rivals yours,” you commented, acting as if it was the simplest thing.

He spun to face you. A fiery flame burned within his eyes. Hell was waiting for you in those eyes.

Too bad hell didn’t scare you.

“What did you just say,” he snarled, weapon being abandoned. He strode up to you, yet you stepped back in sync.

You realized he wasn’t asking either.

He was demanding.

“Oh, just that my shot rivals yours, princess,” you repeated. A huffing growl broke through his teeth. He continued to prowl toward you, the fire dancing wildly in his eyes.

It was a strange tango you were doing. You, the prey, pushing buttons to no end, wanting to see the outcome. Crosshair, the predator, ready to rip you a new one.

Maybe if you just pushed a tad bit more…

“I mean, you just have to accept I might be a better shot, princess.”

“Stop. It.”

“It’s alright, it happens to the best-”

You never got to finish your sentence. Instead, you were screaming.

You had fallen off the hillside.

Or better yet, Crosshair had pushed you.

Instantly, you were tumbling down the hill at full speed, unable to stop yourself.

Splash!

“Shit,”Crosshair mumbled, racing to the bottom of the hill.

You were no longer in a grassy landscape, you instead had landed in a bright cerulean blue pond. Blooming pink and white blossoms decorated lily pads along the edge, pond moss floating on the surface. A couple of reed bushes were hanging over the edge as well. Behind you, flourishing trees extended leafy arms out over the pond, providing shade.

It would’ve been a much more pleasant view if you weren’t wading in it.

Literally.

Crosshair reached the edge, a strange sort of panic and concern plaguing his face.

For some reason, your heart twisted at the look on his face. Almost like it pained you.

Like he hadn’t meant to push you at all.

Quack.

You waded closer to shore, sitting up in a shallower portion of the pond. Water pooled around you, and somehow the anger you were holding onto burnt out.

His expression didn’t make sense to you.

Quack.

How could he look so… sorry?

Quack. Quack. Quack.

Your mind halted, eyes searching for all the noise. A quick look around you showed you the answer.

All around you, golden creatures had surrounded you. They were tiny, orange webbed feet paddling around you. Soft, fuzzy, cute. As you leaned your head down, it occurred to you what the adorable creatures were.

Baby ducklings.

Quack. Quack.

You almost hadn’t noticed the laughter that rang through the air.

Crosshair. Laughing.

The sound caught your ears by surprise, heart twisting once again. Strangely, the twist felt different.

“What’s so funny?!” You demanded, the little ducks still swimming around you in glee. Your eyes darted between the laughing sniper and the cute creatures, as if you couldn’t believe which was crazier.

“Nothing. It’s just- well…”

His eyes glistened with joy.

You had a feeling you weren’t going to like his next words.

“You’re just one lucky duck, aren’t you?”

Quack.

You groaned, earning another round of laughter. You couldn’t believe it. Not only did he have the audacity to push you off the hillside, but now he was standing here, laughing at you.

“Hey!”

A shout rang out from behind you, suddenly allowing you to be greeted by the sight of the rest of the Batch.

“What are you two… doing?”

Hunter had lost his yell halfway through, confusion clouding his expression at the sight. The rest of the Batch looked just at shock, all of them at a loss for what to say. They weren't sure what to question first, Crosshair laughing, you being surrounded by ducks, or how keeping watch had turned into this.

Quack. Quack. Quack.

“Well, Ducky here decided she needed some swimming lessons with her new friends,” Crosshair snickered, face plastered with that stupid smirk.

Oh, now he had really done it.

“Ducky?! You’re joking! Not only do you push me off the hillside, you laugh at me, and you give me a nickname?!” You screamed, shooting straight up. Your anger had suddenly returned, nerves fried with anger and pond water.

Quack.

Crosshair’s smirk disappeared, laughter dying with it.

His face changed, becoming unreadable, yet his eyes held an unfamiliar guilt

“I’m going back to the ship,” you muttered angrily, eyes piercing Crosshair’s gaze.

Quack.

You stumbled out of the pond, dripping like a wet towel. Pushing past Crosshair, you started trekking back towards the ship. Protests rang out from the others, but you ignored them.

Hunter was out of his mind for pairing you up with Crosshair, you were an idiot for thinking this mission could have gone well, and you were certainly idiotic for pushing his buttons just to get at him. Even if it had made you feel like you had the power in your court for once.

You weren’t idiotic enough to miss the guilt in his eyes though. That in itself made your heart do that ugly twist again.

Your mind was like the pond, splashed with confusion, guilt, and uncertainty. You were too distracted to even realize you were leading a line of ducklings behind you. It wasn’t even until halfway back to the ship that you noticed, eyes scanning the tiny line of creatures.

Quack. Quack. Quack.

You closed your eyes, sighing in exasperation.

Quack. Quack.

Some lucky duck you were indeed.

—

taglist: @padawancat97

also tagging the lovely @moonstrider9904, as well as a few others who I think would like to see this! @hellothere-generalangsty@nahoney22 @eyecandyeoz @baddest-batchers @ladysaturnsdust @leenabb104104 @snowlotr @thora-sniper @dalu-grantkylo

If any of those tagged, or anyone else is interested in being on my taglist, here is the form to fill it out, or leave your interest in the comments. You can also find my taglist form on my pinned post!

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