#I was strong because he was strong. I wasn’t afraid of being alone because he wasn’t afraid of being alone

[velvetinks]

He didn’t know

Joel Miller x f!Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, Joel’s death, graphic grief, emotional breakdown, heavy themes of loss, Ellie grieving, mention of violence, tear-jerker

You were eight weeks pregnant when Joel died.

You’d known for three.

You’d planned to tell him the night before he left for patrol. You made stew. You wore the dress he liked. You rehearsed the words in your head until they lost their meaning.

But when he sat down at the dinner table, looking tired and distant—like something was weighing on him that he wouldn’t say—you didn’t bring it up.

You figured you’d wait.

One more day.

Just one.

And now there was no more time.

Just silence. And his blood in the snow.

You didn’t cry in front of anyone.

Not at the service. Not when Tommy placed Joel’s jacket in your arms. Not when Ellie stood next to you at the grave with red eyes and a clenched jaw like she was holding the world back by force.

But you broke that night.

Alone. On the floor of the house you used to share. In the bed where he kissed you last. In the doorway where he said, “I’ll be back in a few days,” and meant it.

You screamed into a pillow until your throat was raw.

You whispered to the child growing inside you, promised them you’d be strong. That they’d know his name. That they’d never feel unloved, even though they’d never hear his voice.

But you didn’t tell anyone.

Not yet.

Because if you said it out loud, it would be real.

Ellie showed up a week later.

She looked like she hadn’t slept. Eyes dull, fists balled in her jacket.

You let her in without a word.

She didn’t speak, either. Just walked into the living room and stood in the middle of it—like she wasn’t sure whether to sit or scream or run.

You poured her tea. Neither of you touched it.

Finally, she spoke.

“I keep thinkin’ about the last thing I said to him,” she muttered. “It was some dumb joke. Something about him being too slow. I was pissed about the patrol rotation, and I snapped at him.”

You said nothing. Let her bleed the guilt out.

She sat down hard on the couch.

“I didn’t mean it,” she said. “He was just… he was trying. And I was still so mad about—about Salt Lake. About the lie. But he was still him, you know?”

Your throat ached. “Yeah.”

“He was starting to come back to me. I could feel it.”

You stared at the fire. At the embers that were dying, same as everything else.

“I was gonna tell him,” you whispered suddenly.

Ellie looked up.

“What?”

You didn’t cry—not yet. You just held your stomach. Your flat, quiet stomach.

“I was gonna tell him,” you repeated. “I was pregnant. I am pregnant. I—fuck, I waited. I thought it would be better after the patrol, when he was home and rested and warm and safe and…”

You covered your mouth. It didn’t help the sob that broke through.

Ellie didn’t move at first. She just stared at you, wide-eyed and hollowed out.

Then she stood, crossed the room, and knelt in front of you like she was afraid to break you just by getting close.

She reached for your hand.

“Does anyone else know?”

You shook your head.

“I was scared. I didn’t know what he’d say. I didn’t want to, what if he thought it was a mistake?”

Ellie let out a breath that sounded like a laugh. Or a sob. Maybe both.

“He wouldn’t have. Not for a second.”

“You sure?”

“He would’ve freaked out,” she said. “Made a big show of being too old and too tired. Said dumb Joel shit like, ‘You sure it’s mine?’ just to piss you off.”

You smiled despite the ache in your ribs.

“But then he’d build a crib,” she said. “Fix the roof twice even if it didn’t need it. Start chopping wood every morning at five just in case.”

You looked at her. She looked at you.

“He would’ve loved that kid,” she whispered.

“I know.”

Silence stretched between you. Soft and bitter.

Then Ellie stood and grabbed one of Joel’s old flannels off the back of the chair. She held it to her chest for a second, then handed it to you.

“Let me help.”

“What?”

“When the baby comes. I don’t know shit about anything, but—I can help. If you want me to.”

You stared at her.

A girl with too much pain in her bones and too much Joel in her eyes.

You nodded.

And for the first time since you heard him scream

You didn’t feel completely alone.

[acespeon]

I’ve probably been kinning Knuckles since long before I knew what kinning was

[katszumi]

every room stood still. your kitten, katsuki insisted on naming 'skullcrusher', also didn't dare to move.

your head hung low, feeling the stuffy air sneak into your lungs. you glanced at the clock on your watch. 7:19. the usual time katsuki arrived at the doorstep.

normally, you'd rush to the door, showering your boyfriend with short pepper kisses on his face. but you remained on the velvet couch, the same couch you picked out when house shopping with katsuki.

a click sounded, indicating the door was recently unlocked. you harshly breathed in the same stuffy air, forcing yourself to swallow the panic that resided inside of you.

katsuki slugged through the door, immediately dropping his bag at the front door. his eyes met yours then to the kitchen, his face contorting slightly at the sight. it was empty?

"no food. what's up with you?" his words came off more formidable than he liked, especially when he knew something wasn’t right.

katsuki inched towards you, his eyebrows wearing an expression of its own. they were furrowed, his right eyebrow a little deeper than the other.

"katsuki," you started, breaking your words off.

he slightly cocked his head in confusion and worry. as he came closer, not only did he see your presence shaking alongside the couch, but he also saw two suitcases behind you that were clearly filled to the brim.

you watched how his eyes widened, how his teeth unclenched leaving his jaw to drop. his ruby irises instantly shot back towards you, scanning your face for any signs that you were playing a joke on him.

"what the fuck." the words leave his mouth too quick for him to register.

you swallowed nothing. "katsuki, we need to talk."

"talk?!" his mouth opened to continue yet no words seemed to come. oddly enough, for the first time, he was speechless.

"i-i need you to listen to me." you hated the fact that you stammered on your words.

"and then what?!" he paused, "you leave me?" katsuki's voice lowered in volume, a tone of angst leaked within his words.

you attempt to stand strong. you weren't even sure if this was the right choice now by looking at his wounded face.

slowly, you nodded.

"yes."

katsuki was expecting that. hell. who wouldn't when their girlfriend has two suitcases behind her? but hearing the words leave her mouth was entirely different. it was like a shot through his heart, the bullet penetrating every piece of restraint he had.

his head turned to the side. he was battling his thoughts; every fucked up thing he did occuring to his mind.

"is it because i left my bloody rag on the counter the night before? because if so, i promise to god, i will never do it again. i know how much you despise it." he went on his own plethora, his words and body language holding enormous amounts of panic.

"katsuki." you reinstated again. if he went on like this much longer, you were afraid you'd never have the strength again to walk out of the door.

"or because i yell too loudly at ungodly hours?" he ignored your words.

"katsuki." you repeated.

"i understand i'm not the easiest person. fuck. i'm even shocked i've gotten this far." he rambled, not caring about a word you have to say. he had to say something, do something, in order to convince you. bargaining with all of his strength. "what have i done? what do i need to fix?"

you reach for his hand, molding your hand to fit in his. you placed your open hand on top, soothing small circles into his skin.

"it's not you, katsuki."

katsuki's face fell. "then, why are you leaving me?"

"i can't live like this. i was not taught to be a housewife. to clean, cook, wait for your arrival every night at seven o'clock just to eat dinner with you." you shook your head. "i don't have a job or even a hobby! i am stuck within these walls everyday, the paparazzi at damn near every corner doesn't help either. i am exhausted being alone all day."

you could feel the sweat accumulate on katsuki's palms.

"i'll tell the media to back off. i swear to it. a-and, i know somebody who's looking for help with their business, i can set it u—"

"katsuki, i am miserable here!" you interrupted his words, slightly raising your voice. "i can't do it anymore! you are a pro-hero, dedicating your life to these people everyday. and what am i doing? making sure that your stomach is filled and that there's no stains on a countertop!"

katsuki was quiet, allowing the words to settle in. taking the moment of silence of advantage, you slipped your hands from his.

"you're a pro hero. you've made the ranks. you've accomplished everything you've hoped for." you sighed. "i just don't fit within your schedule."

katsuki remained silent, reality now kicking in for him. he bit the inside of his cheek to restrain the tears that were welling in his eyes.

"i'm sorry. i truly, really am. i just need to accomplish my own goals before it's too late."

katsuki's eyes fell to the ground, a very slow nod coming from him. he cleared his throat, also sniffling to remove the snot that was aching to run down his nose.

"where will you be staying?"

you echoed his action from earlier, turning your head sideways. you couldn't face him anymore after utterly destroying his heart.

"it's best if you don't know."

he paused. "right."

you spun on your heel to bend down behind you, grabbing your overly stuffed suitcases. you increased the height on the handles, slowly trudging them towards the door.

you couldn't believe that this was happening. it was a last minute decision. lying down in bed, realizing that if this continued, you'd be nothing more but a trophy wife that's made no true accomplishments on her own.

you were more than that. more than a cleaner and cook.

"i didn't accomplish everything." katsuki broke the silence.

you halted your steps, peering at him over your shoulder. you hoped he took the silence as permission to continue.

"i wanted to marry you. have a big ass wedding reception and drink until we could barely see anymore." he dryly chuckled. "maybe even have a few flowergirls of our own. that goal mattered more to me than any accomplishments i've made before in this life." your heart clenched at the fact.

tears covered your vision, your breathing starting to become sporadic.

"you can keep skullcrusher." you faced forward, grabbing the door handle. "i love you, kats. thank you for everything." your words trembled, tears uncontrollably streaming down your face.

as the door shut behind you, katsuki buried his face into his hands, and cried like a little boy in his now empty, silent home.

[ramp-it-up]

Sweet Fantasy

Summary: You meet one of the "Big Three" at NY Fantasy Con. As Crewman Number Six, you should know how this will end. But you don't.

Word count: 5 K

Pairing: CATWS Bucky x Reader

A/N: This is a inspired by @avengers-assemble-bingo. #KinkyBingo. This fulfills the square: Praises. This is also part of @yenzys-lucky-charm Cranky, Grabby, Stabby, Oh My Challenge. Prompt: “Shut up and take your pants off.” This fic spiraled out of control and I-- well I needed a shower. And so do Bucky and Reader. If you haven't seen Galaxy Quest, well you really should. 😬 Please reblog, comment, and like!

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. All mistakes my own. Smut! Cosplay. Conventions, lots of LOTR and Galaxy Quest jokes, Grumpy Bucky in disguise, flirting, teasing, use of "old man," "Soldier" kink, a teeny tiny glimpse of subby Bucky if you squint (let me know if you see it), then he turns dominant and feral, praise kink, bulge kink, marathon man Bucky, intense sex, overstimulation, raw p in v, copious amounts of cum, possessive Bucky, begging. This is plot with porn at the end.

I do not have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

------

You decided to go to New York Fantasy Con alone. New city, new start, and the perfect place to meet fellow nerds who shared your love for all things sci-fi and fantasy.

You weren’t looking for anything more than a fun day of geeking out, debating space battles, and admiring top-tier cosplay.

One moment, you were adjusting your belt as Crewman Number Six, your uniform pristine, your perpetually wary I-know-exactly-how-this-ends expression firmly in place, and the next, you were nearly toppling over a very solid, very well-dressed Gandalf.

——

The day was filled with the unexpected.

The con was the perfect place to disappear, everyone in costume, no one staring, no one whispering. He was just another guy in robes and a fake beard.

Who’d walked in feeling lighter than he had in months.

And then you barreled into his life. Literally.

His staff clattered to the floor as he reached out with lighting fast reflexes, strong hands gripping your arms to steady you.

“My apologies,” he said, fully in character, though amusement danced behind the accent.

“I should know better than to block the path of a brave and noble…” His sharp blue eyes flicked over your uniform. “…expendable crew member?”

Galaxy Quest. Classic. His favorite.

“I prefer unsung hero, but sure.”

Your quick wit made him grin, and then you laughed a warm and genuine laugh. Something about the sound made him feel warm inside.

From there, it was easy. You two clicked. Effortlessly. 

Hours passed in a blur of banter, debates, and sly glances. You argued about the physics of warp drive, whispered snark about questionable cosplay choices, and shared his soft pretzel without hesitation,even if he definitely hadn’t offered it at first. 

Gandalf, as it turned out, was oddly possessive of his snacks. But once you stole the first piece, he started handing them over willingly, eyes on you every time you took a bite.

He just couldn’t stop staring because you were stunning, and not just in the obvious way. 

It was the way you moved,like you belonged there. Like you knew exactly who you were and weren’t afraid to take up space. 

And in way your uniform hugged your body, tailored just right to fit every curve, walking the line between adorable and dangerously distracting.

He was stupidly attracted to you. Cosplay or not.

You in that uniform, beaming and fearless, practically walking through the con so unassuming yet confident?

Yeah, that was doing things to him.

He noticed the way your eyes flicked toward him when you thought he wasn’t looking. And also the way your smile deepened when you caught him watching. The way you leaned in a little closer every time he spoke was magnetic. 

You were flirting. Hard.

And he liked it. Too much.

And that was the problem.

Because you didn’t know who he was.

You thought he was just some guy in a good Gandalf cosplay. You were flirting with that guy. Not Bucky Barnes.

Not the name, or the past, or the weight that came with it.

He should’ve kept his distance.

But he didn’t.

And on your side?

You had no idea what this man looked like.

Tall, yes.

Broad, clearly.

That voice, a warm tenor, and with a hint of rasp, was borderline unfair.

And those eyes. Icy blue, too intelligent to be just cosplay.

But still. Long grey beard. Hat. Layers of wizard robes. His entire being was a mystery.

And yet you were attracted to him. Nonsensically so.

When the crowd got thick, he let his hand find the small of your back and guided you through. 

He could’ve let go when the aisle cleared, but he didn’t. Not right away. Not when you felt that warm and solid against him. Not when his brain was full of you and your goddamn perfect laugh.

The electricity was ridiculous.

And maybe you let yourself lean back into his touch just a little.

You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal. You flirted all the time, right? It didn’t mean anything.

Except you wanted it to mean something. The connection felt too easy. Too real. And that scared you more than the mystery.

Who was this guy?

You didn’t know his name, didn’t know what he looked like under the layers, and still… you were into him.

Really into him.

Which was why, when the con ended and you stepped out into the fading light of Manhattan, neither of you were ready for it to be over.

“Well, Gandalf,” you teased, “it’s been fun. Remember: Never Give Up, Never Surrender!”

He let out a sexy chuckle, but he hesitated, glancing toward the subway entrance, weighing something in his mind. Then, before he could second-guess himself, he spoke.

“You wanna grab dinner after this?”

You smiled up at him. 

“But we had such a good time today. I don’t wanna mess it up.”

His lips curved upwards. 

“There are far, far better things ahead than any we leave behind.”

You snorted. 

“Smooth for a 2,000-year-old wizard.” 

You narrowed your eyes playfully. 

“Are you asking me out, Gandalf?”

He hesitated. That was the moment. He could’ve kept the beard on. Could’ve let you keep thinking he was just another guy with decent taste in pretzels and fantasy quotes. It was refreshing, getting to be just a guy, instead of a name, a history, a headline. 

But if this was going anywhere, you deserved to know.

“I’m only 108,” he said dryly, then added. “And yeah. I think I know when I’m asking someone on a date.”

You choked on air. 

“I’m sorry. What?”

He sighed, reaching up to hook his fingers into the fake beard. Slowly, he peeled it away, along with the expertly applied wrinkles.

Your eyes widened. Holy. Shit.

What remained wasn’t just some random guy in a killer cosplay.

It was Bucky Barnes.

Bucky saw the realization hit you. He braced himself, waiting for the change. The flicker of recognition and wariness, the oh, the backpedaling. It always happened.

“You probably figured it out before, but… yeah. When people recognize me, they, uh… sometimes change their minds. About me.”

For a long second, you just stared. Then, your lips curved.

“I didn’t know. And my mind is… not changed.”

You grinned, shaking your head. 

“You’re alright, Barnes. I mean, I’ve spent all afternoon with you, and you’ve been kind, funny, and genuinely one of the best parts of today. That doesn’t just disappear because you’re also kind of a big deal.”

You looked around, lowering your voice.

“To be honest. I was in it for the beard.”

Bucky blinked, then laughed quietly. He looked surprised, like he didn’t expect you to still be standing there.

“Well, if that’s what did it, I could’ve just kept it on.”

You were still here. Still flirting.

Your eyes swept over him. The mystery was gone, but the pull remained.

Stronger now.

“Yeah,” you said. “But you’re not so bad without it.”

His gaze flicked to your mouth, then back to your eyes. He was still cautious, and still wondering if this was real.

But you weren’t pulling away.

“Well,” he murmured, voice lower now, “guess I better make sure our date’s as good as the con, huh?”

You bumped his shoulder.

“You better. No pressure, though.”

No pressure.

Except for the fact that for the first time in a long time he actually wanted this to go right.

And you kept thinking: Damn. I think I actually really like this guy.

—-

The restaurant was small and warm, just cozy enough to forget you were in the middle of Manhattan. Bucky picked a booth near the back, the kind of spot with a clear view of the door.

Classic.

You didn’t call him on it. Just leaned on your elbows and watched him over the rim of your drink. That fucking uniform of your was getting him hard.

“So you didn’t wanna be recognized,” you mused. “Cool.”

You sipped slowly, licking a drop from your lip with deliberate nonchalance. Bucky’s eyes dropped. And didn’t stop at your mouth. He snapped his gaze back up quickly however, jaw tight.

Oh yeah. He was so fucked. He wanted to fuck.

You tilted your head, smiling like you knew exactly what you were doing.

“But Gandalf isn't just any old man,” you said, voice light. “He’s wise, powerful...”

You traced a finger around your glass. His eyes followed the motion, slow and unblinking. Bucky clenched his jaw, visibly struggling.

“…respected. Worshipped, even.”

Bucky swallowed hard. His fingers flexed around his glass, then curled into a fist.

You leaned in. 

“Bucky, you’ve been staring at me for the past twenty minutes.” 

You tapped the side of your glass. 

“Is this a wizard thing, or are you always like this?”

He cleared his throat again. He was always like this.

But you…were different.

“I…” 

He cut himself off, jaw clenching. He knew that you knew that he was struggling, and what he was struggling with. And that made him even weaker for you. 

You enjoyed making him squirm. And he liked it. Too much. Way too much.

Jesus, what were you doing to him?

Bucky huffed a weak laugh, shaking his head. His eyes flicked to your lips again and this time, he didn’t look away as fast.

“I didn’t mean to.” He paused. 

You’re just so fucking hot.

You grinned. Wicked.

“And here I thought it was some kind of kink.”

Bucky choked on his drink.

Your smile turned gleeful as you sat up straighter, pressing forward just enough to make him very aware of what was beneath your uniform. He was staring. Again.

“Oh my God,” you lit up, delighted. “Was I right?”

He coughed, his ears pink, and glared at you over his glass. 

He was so cute when he was flustered.

“No.”

You arched an eyebrow. 

“You sure? You did say you’re an old man.”

Bucky’s jaw ticked. Your grin only widened

You were having too much fun. It was like a game of cat and mouse, and dammit, he was the fucking mouse.

Then, just to test something, you dragged your fingers up and down the stem of your wine glass. 

He shifted, breath hitching. And you knew.

Oh, you knew. You knew what was happening under that table. You imagined, correctly, that he was hard as a rock.

“Oh,” you whispered, delighted. “You like this.”

His metal fingers gripped the table edge.

“Doll,” he said, low and warning.

But that just made you smile.

“You’ve been looking at me all day like you want to do something,” you murmured, watching his throat bob as he swallowed hard.

“So why are you holding back?”

Bucky rubbed his jaw. Discipline. Control. You could see him straining for it.

“Because I like you,” he admitted, voice gruff. 

Oh.

oh

Something in your chest tightened. Because that was real.

You stared at him for a beat, the energy arcing between you, but now it wasn’t just pure physical attraction.

“Bucky,” you said, voice softer now.

He lifted his gaze to you, blue eyes dark and hungry.

“I like that you’re holding back,” you said slowly. 

“Because it means that when you don’t…” 

You leaned in just a fraction. 

“...it’s gonna be worth it.”

Bucky let out a breath like he’d been punched.

And then he smiled slowly,a new knowledge coming into his eyes now that he knew where your head was at. He stood, tossing a few bills on the table.

“We better get outta here, Doll.”

And you didn’t hesitate. You followed.

—-----

The night air should’ve cooled the heat simmering between you and Bucky, but it didn’t. Not even close.

The restaurant had been one thing, but now it was just the two of you, walking side by side down the New York street, the hum of the city around you.

Bucky hadn’t touched you, not once.

But you’d felt him all over you nonetheless. You felt him in the way his shoulder brushed yours when you walked too close. In the twitch of his fingers, like he was one second from grabbing your hand. 

Or your waist. 

Or your throat. 

“Y’know,” you murmured, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to be so disciplined.”

Bucky laughed quietly.

“Doll.”

“What?”

“You know what.”

You peered up at him innocently. 

“I really don’t.”

Bucky stopped walking.

You did too, turning to face him. He was really looking at you now, his jaw tight, eyes dark.

“You think I don’t wanna touch you?”

His voice had some longing in it. 

“That I don’t wanna pin you against that wall right now and see how many ways I can make you say my name?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“But,” he continued, voice still measured, still controlled, 

“I don’t wanna do this wrong.” His metal hand flexed. “Not with you.”

Something in your chest fluttered at that, a warmth different from the heat between your legs.

“You wouldn’t be,” you murmured.

He shook his head, staring down at the sidewalk.

“I want you too much, Doll.” 

Then he looked back up at you, hitting you with those baby blues.

“And that’s dangerous for me.”

“Well,” you murmured, stepping closer, “maybe I like a little danger.”

His hand twitched. The struggle was written all over him. So you tipped the scale. You reached out and brushed your fingers over his metal wrist gently. Cool vibranium met warm skin.

Bucky inhaled sharply.

Then, slowly, his fingers curled around yours. Testing. Then gripping.

You bit your lip.

“Doll,” he warned.

You looked up at him, so alluring.  

“Soldier.”

His breath caught. Then he stepped into you. Still not touching, but so close. The heat of him soaked through your skin.

You licked your lips, and Bucky’s gaze dropped.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Then he kissed you. Barely. Just a brush. Light enough to make you chase it.

The spark could’ve lit up Manhattan.

He pulled back an inch, staring into your eyes like he was trying to memorize you.

You could barely breathe. You wanted his hands. His mouth. His weight. You wanted him unleashed.

But Bucky was still trying to be good.

He lifted his flesh hand, skimming your jaw.

“I’m trying to be a gentleman,” he rasped.

You tilted your chin, pressing into his palm.

“What if I don’t want you to be?”

His eyes turned molten blue.

And then,his phone buzzed.

He just stood there, breathing hard, before letting out a rough, frustrated laugh.

“Guess the universe wants me to behave.”

You smirked. “For now.”

Bucky met your gaze, lust flashing behind his eyes.

------

Somehow you made it to your place and the tension hadn’t lessened. It had evolved. 

When you closed the front door behind you, Bucky snapped.

You turned to face him and he was there, pinning you to the door before you could even inhale. His metal arm slammed against the wood beside your head with a soft thud, and the other cradled your jaw, rough and tender all at once as his mouth crashed into yours.

No hesitation. No restraint. Just need.

You gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue sliding against yours, slow but demanding. He kissed like a man who’d been starved for years and finally got his first bite.

And God, you tasted so good.

When he pulled back, his pupils were blown wide, chest heaving.

“You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me,” he rasped.

You smirked, breathless as your fingers found the hardness in his jeans. 

“I have some idea.”

His eyes darkened.

“You think this is a game?” 

His voice dropped, low and dangerous. His thumb brushed your bottom lip, slow and firm, pressing just enough to make your breath catch.

You looked up at him through your lashes, heart hammering. 

“Is it not?”

“That’s it,” Bucky growled.

One second you were against the door, the next you were being lifted, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you like you weighed nothing. Your back hit the wall, his mouth finding the column of your throat. He kissed, licked, and bit, not enough to leave marks, not yet, but enough to make you whimper.

“Still wanna play?” he murmured against your skin.

“Yes,” you breathed, because you were nothing if not committed.

Bucky’s mouth crashed back to yours and his hand found the underside of your thigh and squeezed. His metal hand skimmed your waist, the cold kiss of it against your hot skin making you gasp.

“You want me to lose control?” he asked, lips trailing down your jaw, across your collarbone.  You moaned, arching into him.

“Yes, Soldier. Bedroom is over there,” you pointed weakly, then your hands returned to his shoulders.

Bucky grinned against you, cocky now. 

“Good girl.”

He walked you to the bedroom, never breaking contact. You were clawing at his jacket, his shirt. You needed to feel skin, metal, him. You didn’t care about slow or gentle anymore. You just wanted him.

He dropped you onto the bed and stood over you for a beat, chest rising and falling like he’d run a marathon. His hair was a mess, lips kiss-bitten, eyes blazing.

You sat up slightly, supported on your elbows, and tilted your head.

“Well?”

Bucky reached for his shirt, peeled it off in one smooth motion, and let it drop to the floor.

You swallowed hard. Good lord. Scars. Muscle. Metal. History. He was so hot.

Bucky climbed onto the bed until he was hovering over you, mouth brushing your ear.

“You’re not ready for what I wanna do to you,” he whispered.

“Shut up and take your pants off,” you whispered back.

When he did, your eyes went wide.

"Is that Grabthar's Hammer?"

He laughed softly. Then he kissed you again.  This time, there was no more teasing.

You were laid out naked beneath Bucky like something sacred, flushed and panting, the room thick with your scent.

Buckhy knelt between your legs, jaw tight, fists clenched like he was still holding himself back even now. His chest rose and fell, a man at war with his self-control. You shifted, your naked cunt calling to him and his eyes dropped instantly.

And then he broke.

Bucky dragged you closer like he’d been starving for this. He kissed your stomach slowly first, before biting just beneath your ribs, then moved lower. You gasped, your fingers threading into his hair.

“You still sure you want this?” he rasped against your skin, voice barely human.

You laughed breathlessly, tugging his face up so you could look him dead in the eye.

“If you don’t wreck me, old man, I’m gonna be pissed.”

That did it.

Bucky smirked, and then placed a kiss on your bare mound. Then, his mouth trailed lower, and gently kissed your clit as your eyes rolled and your nipples became even stiffer mountain peaks. Those ice blue eyes held yours captive as he flattened his tongue and licked a disrespectful stripe up the split of you. 

When Bucky finally tasted you, he moaned. A low, guttural sound that made your toes curl.

And he didn’t stop. He devoured. He licked into you, fucking you with his tongue, and pulling on your clit like it was saltwater taffy.

His hands pinned your hips down, metal unforgiving, flesh impossibly warm, like he was trying to memorize the exact shape of you against his palms.

You were already close, embarrassingly close, because this wasn’t just sex; it was a seal to your connection. This was the shit.

Bucky touched you like you were precious and filthy. And he looked at you like he wanted to worship and destroy you in the same breath.

When he slipped two fingers inside you, metal, cold and smooth, your back arched and a broken moan escaped your lips. His mouth didn’t stop. His rhythm didn’t falter. He was focused, like this was a mission, and your pleasure was the only thing on the damn agenda.

“Bucky,” you gasped, hand clutching at his hair, “I’m—”

“I know, I can taste it. Smell it,” he said, voice gravel and heat between your thighs. 

“Be good. Let me feel you come on my face.”

You did. Oh god you did.

You shattered, mouth open in a silent scream, thighs trembling around his head. Bucky didn’t stop, even as your body shook, even as it sounded like you’d forgotten how to breathe. He slowed, sure, but only just enough to guide you down from the edge.

He looked up, chin slick, eyes feral. Then he crawled up your body and kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You okay?” he whispered, brushing your curls back from your damp forehead, voice suddenly soft again.

“I think I saw Sauron," you blinked up at him, dazed.

"What about you?"

He chuckled darkly.

"A wizard is never late, nor is he early, he cums precisely when he means to."

"I don't think that's the quote... oh fuccckkkk!"

Bucky moved with no warning, just a low, “Fuck, Doll,” before he lined himself up and slid in.

Your breath caught like a prayer.

He was big. Thick. Harder than steel and twice as punishing. He bottomed out slow, but deep, like he needed you to feel every inch of him.

And you could.

Your hands flew to his back, nails digging into muscle as he held still, forehead pressed to yours, breathing heavy.

“You okay?” he asked again, but his voice was strained now, like he wasn’t.

“Better than okay,” you breathed, clenching around him on purpose.

His control cracked.

He snapped his hips forward.

And that was it. 

The end of the gentleman. 

The death of restraint. 

All that carefully held discipline gone, replaced with something primal.

Something desperate.

He fucked you.

Slow at first. Deep. Every stroke angled just right, like he’d mapped you out in his mind and memorized exactly what made you tremble.

Then faster. Harder. Hips slamming into yours, head buried in your neck, one hand gripping your thigh to keep you exactly where he wanted you.

“Jesus,” Bucky growled, “You feel like fuckin’ heaven.”

You moaned something back, maybe his name, maybe nonsense, and he grinned, all teeth and hunger and male pride.

“Say it again.”

“Bucky…”

“No,” he rasped, grabbing your chin, making you look at him.

“Say what I am.”

You whimpered, broken and breathless.

“Soldier.”

His rhythm stuttered. And then he wrecked you. No finesse now. Just power. 

Just pure, relentless, possessive need. Skin slapping, bed shaking, your name falling from his lips like a litany.

You clawed at his back. Bit his shoulder. He loved it. Ate it up. Drove deeper, harder, until your legs were numb and your voice was hoarse from screaming his name.

And when you came again, a fucking detonation, he followed you with a moan that sounded like it could crack the walls. You felt him pulse spray inside you, hot and endless, as he collapsed against you with a groan.

Silence. Except for breathing. His, ragged and heavy. Yours, shaky and stunned.

He didn’t move right away. Just kissed your shoulder. Your collarbone. The corner of your mouth.

“Still with me?” he murmured.

You blinked up at him, eyes glassy.

“I never want you be a gentleman again.”

Bucky laughed, low and pleased.

“You haven’t even seen me misbehave yet.”

You barely had time to breathe.

Bucky didn’t even pull out. Still buried to the hilt, somehow still hard and already rolling his hips again, slower this time, more deliberate. Testing.

Your overstimulated body jerked at the sensation, a whimper escaping your lips.

He grinned against your throat.

“Oh, look at that,” he murmured, voice dark silk. “Sensitive.”

You tried to answer, tried to say something, but then he drew back just enough to thrust again, deep and slow, and your brain short-circuited. Your back arched off the bed, hands scrambling for anything to anchor yourself.

Bucky just watched you hungrily. He was fascinated.

He held himself up on one arm, the other drifting slowly down your body, metal fingers grazing your throat, your chest, down to your belly, resting right where the head of his cock pushed up from the inside.

“Right here,” he whispered, pressing just enough to make you feel it. 

“You feel that, sweetheart?”

You nodded, dazed, lips parted.

He moved again.  A slow grind,  a deep roll. And the pressure made you gasp.

“God,” you breathed.

Bucky smirked, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth. 

“Nah. Not God.”

He shifted his weight, grabbed your thigh, and flipped you without warning.

You let out a shocked cry as he pulled your hips up, chest pressed into the mattress, and entered you from behind in one smooth thrust that had you biting the pillow.

The new angle was devastating.

He set a punishing rhythm, hands gripping your hips. His hands, one warm and flesh, the other cold and unrelenting vibranium, held you in place like you were his to claim.

“You said no more gentleman,” he rasped, panting as he fucked into you harder. 

“You sure you can handle that, Doll?”

You sobbed out something that sounded like yes.

He chuckled wickedly.

Then one hand slid up your spine, between your shoulder blades, curling into your hair to tug your head back just enough to hear him growl in your ear.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty like this, ruined.”

You clenched around him, and he groaned, hips stuttering.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” 

His teeth scraped your neck. 

“Like it when I talk to you like this? Like you’re mine?”

You were beyond answering now, every nerve ending lit up, your body already climbing again. How was this possible?

As he fucked you through the aftermath of the last orgasm straight into the next.

Then you felt it.

His metal hand slipped between your legs, finding your clit with devastating precision.

“Gonna come for me again, sweetheart?” he whispered.

“Gonna soak my cock like a good girl?”

You screamed when you did, your entire body locking up, shaking under him, pulsing around him so hard that he nearly lost control.

He held on just long enough to groan your name, slamming into you one final time before coming with a shudder so intense it nearly brought him to his knees.

After, he collapsed beside you, dragging you back against his chest with an arm wrapped tight around your waist, breathing hot against your skin.

“Still don’t want me to be a gentleman?” he murmured, smug and breathless.

You couldn’t even speak, hadn’t even caught your breath.

You were still trembling, your thighs slick and shaking, your mind floating somewhere between pleasure-drunk and completely wrecked.

And Bucky?

Bucky hadn’t moved far. Still pressed against your back, one arm locked tight around your waist, chest rising and falling against your shoulder blades. But his hard cock was nudging against your inner thigh again. 

You were realizing what the term supersoldier meant. You were wrecked but he wasn’t even tired.

“You’re insatiable,” you managed to rasp, voice half-muffled by the sheets.

He nuzzled into your neck, chuckling low. 

“Says the one who begged for it.”

You turned your head, just enough to meet his eyes, and smirked. 

“I didn’t beg.”

Bucky raised a brow. “No?”

Then he rolled his hips, sliding his cock between your thighs again without fully entering, just letting you feel the weight of him.

Heavy. Christ, his cock was so deliciously heavy.

Your breath caught.

“No,” you repeated, but this time it wasn’t convincing.

“Mmm,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder. 

“I think you did beg. Might’ve even said please, if I remember right.”

“Lies,” you whispered, but the way you arched back into him gave you away.

And Bucky grinned.

“Alright then, Doll,” he breathed, shifting to grip your hips again, “if you’re not gonna beg…”

Then he slid inside again, slow and torturous into your abused hole.

“…guess I’ll just fuck it out of you.”

You moaned, your back arching, and Bucky didn’t even give you time to adjust. He just started moving, deep and slow at first, rolling his hips so that every stroke dragged perfectly against your walls. 

You were oversensitive, your body already spent, but somehow this was worse.

Or better.

You couldn’t tell. You felt everything.

Bucky leaned over you, chest to your back again, the heat of him covering you completely. One hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head to the side so he could mouth at your throat.

The other slipped under you and of course he found your clit again.

“Let’s see if I can make you beg now,” he murmured, thumb pressing just right.

You cried out.

“Still not beggin’, huh?” he rasped.

“Not even a little?”

You whimpered, thighs trembling.

“Baby,” he growled in your ear, “you’re fuckin’ soaked. I can feel you dripping down my balls. And you’re gonna lie to me?”

You tried. You tried to sass him. But then he hit that angle and rubbed just right and —

“Fuck! Please! Bucky!”

There it was.

He smiled against your skin, triumphant.

“There’s my good girl.”

Then he flipped you again, barely pulling out before he was slamming back in with enough force to shake the headboard. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your nails raked down his back, and Bucky groaned, burying his face against your neck.

His voice was ragged now.

“You feel so fuckin’ good, goddamn can��t get enough of you, can’t let you go…this is not just one night…”

You were gone. Spiraling. You didn’t even know what number this was anymore.

Orgasm or round, you’d lost count.

But Bucky knew.

He always knew.

“Come for me again,” he ordered, hand cupping the back of your neck as his hips pounded into yours.

“I want you to fall apart while I’m still inside you.”

And you did.

You shattered around him, one last scream torn from your throat, and that was what finally dragged Bucky over the edge. He came with a groan, deep and raw, spilling inside you as he gripped you like he never wanted to let go.

—-

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Time stopped meaning anything.

Eventually, you blinked up at him, hair askew cheeks flushed, throat hoarse.

“…You’re an evil wizard,” you croaked.

Bucky just smirked, brushing your hair back and blowing cool air on you. You closed your eyes and smiled at the tender gesture.

“You started it, crewman.”

You laughed weakly, burying your face in his chest.

“…Worth it.”

Bucky kissed the top of your head and held you closer.

“Damn right it was.”

——-

How’d you like it? 😇

[gay-dorito-dust]

Finally doing something for this man at long, long last. (Whenever I watch Fred Hechinger in an interview dressed in a cute jumper, I wanna hug him, am I alone?)

This is mainly fluff and a little short, so ooc is to be expected in this.

It wasn’t often that Caracalla had a clear head but when he did it was mainly because you were the one to clear the fog from his mind, make him see you as you firmly grip the wrist that held the knife so close to your throat, see the concern within your eyes as you told him with a voice as calm as the cool breeze that caressed his cheek to break from this curse; this spell and come back to you.

You didn’t seem afraid whenever he got like this, when his illness took hold and have him desperately reach for the nearest object that could cause harm. You only looked calm, steady, levelheaded as you swiftly discarded the knife away from both of your reach and cradle him to your chest, making sure to press his head against your heart so that he could hear it and find peace in it.

You’ve seen him like this countless times, and will see him like this for countless more, but right now you could only pray that the next time won’t be for a long while as you pressed kisses into his head of hair. ‘You’re here my emperor,’ you’d whisper, ‘you’re here with me now and with me you shall stay.’

‘You make it sound as though you could command the fates to head your words, to head your silent warning beneath that would surface should you be not content with your reward.’ Caracalla says in a hoarse voice, having lost most of it when shouting until his throat was burning with a pain unlike any other.

‘I just wish to have my emperor come back to me safely.’ You replied as you began to run your hands up and down his back as he clings to you with an iron grip, unyielding and strong of their own, desperately trying to prove that you were right there before him. ‘Safely so I can hold him like this and tell him that it’s okay, that I’m not hurt should he worry that he caused me harm in his outburst as tears appear within his pretty eyes.’ You add in a voice barely above a whisper as you looked at him, only to see that he was indeed tearing up, his cheeks were flushed red like cherries; and yet to you he looked ethereal.

Caracalla almost looks as though he has came out of a painting whenever he cried or looked in even the slightest bit distraught, like he had emerged from a mosaic crafted from the most skilful and delicate of hands. His fiery hair a mess, laurel crown slightly tilted to the side of his head as he looked upon you as one would a god, a being to be worshiped on hand and foot and he was more then kneeling at your very feet.

His beauty and his chaos captivated you to no end and you would gladly let him kiss the wounds he’d sooner inflicted upon you in a moment of rage, you’d let him drag the knife across your chest should it please him and let him lick the blood afterwards; for he was beauty in it’s most realest of form and you couldn’t help but want to admire it up close, even if means getting hurt in the process as you didn’t care, just as long as you got to see such a man of his caliber up close you could died happy.

‘Your words, they stay with me. I remember them all.’ Was all he says as you both remained within the other’s arms, content to a point as this was merely the beginning of your tragic love story with the emperor Caracalla.

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK short please. Gojo is frustrated because someone he likes never faces him. But one day, she turns away and is facing a window/mirror; he sees her reflection and discover she only does that because she's trying to hide her blushing face from him.

He’s acting ridiculous and he knows it, staring at you like a creep while you didn’t even noticed his presence yet.

It’s always been this way. You, the most precious girl and now woman he’s ever met who acts kind and adorable around everyone else.

Fuck, you even manage to force a smile out of Nanami.

“I’m glad you’re okay, (y/n). That wasn’t an easy mission, especially since you were all alone”, Nanami comments while patting your shoulder.

“Yeah, we’re all glad”, Gojo blurts out.

Your face freezes. How did you not notice Gojo entered the room while you were talking to Nanami? Almost immediately, your heart starts pounding roughly against your ribcage, a wave of butterflies violently traveling through your stomach.

The truth is you adore Gojo Satoru. The way he walks, the way he talks, how he acts around his students. Since the first time you saw him with those shades that cover his bright blue eyes, so were lost.

But way too afraid to ever tell him.

“I need to get going. See you, (y/n).”

No, no, no. Panic starts rising up your throat, heat spreads through your cheeks. Nanami can’t leave you alone in that room with Satoru-

“Is there a reason why you’re always facing away from me? You don’t like me?”

When those words leave Satoru’s mouth on top of his steps that draw closer and closer, you feel like dying. Oh, if he only knew it’s actually the opposite, that you can’t stand looking at him without getting lost in his sight. You’re acting like an obsessed teenager with no self-control. What would he think about you if he saw you like that?

Instinctively, you yank your head to the side when he enters your vision. You can’t let him see you like this, with your cheeks so red that you look sunburnt.

Why would you hate him like that? Your body tells him more than urgently to just walk away, your face directed towards the window opposite of you. When was the last time he saw your beautiful features, your cute smile? He can’t help but stare at your reflection in the glass.

And your bright red cheeks.

“Are you flustered?”, he speaks up before being able to stop himself.

“What?”, you shriek back.

No, he caught the way you blushed. Does he think you’re obsessed now, that you’re a freak, maybe?

“Don’t tell me you’re flustered because of me”, he mumbles while grabbing your wrist gently.

“I…I…”

You can’t find the words. In fact, that minor touch of his hand against yours is enough to almost send what’s left of your mind over the edge.

“I just like you!”, you finally blurt out.

“You…like me?”

“And I get flustered when you’re around! Because I…I’m kinda into you!”

Thick silence hangs between both of you when panic starts to settle in your pounding heart. Oh, you messed it all up. He’ll never look at you again, might even make fun of you in front of the others. Would he do that? What if the director finds out? What if you get fired?

“Good for you.”

All it takes is a swift motion of his strong arms to devour you between them, his uncovered eyes now so near and clear that you’d definitely lose balance without him. Is this really happening.

“That I’m into you too, (y/n).”

[lexirosewrites]

Day 12: Mating/Bonding

for @stmarchmm

The truly fucked up thing about it is that Eddie has been looking forward to this day for months.

Well, if he’s being technical about it, he’s been daydreaming about his and Steve’s bonding day since his sophomore year of high school.

There was a time in Eddie’s life when he would doodle “SH+EM” in his notebooks during math class, happier to plan an impossible future than learn how to graph slopes.

Maybe that’s why he failed his senior year twice.

He’ll never tell Wayne that the first time was actually on purpose.

Okay, sue him, he had a silly, embarrassing, massive fucking crush on the younger boy and he wanted to be in the same classes as him.

The second time Eddie failed, it was entirely because he couldn’t stop staring at the omega long enough to learn anything worth while.

Steve was worth failing for.

Wayne might have had some strong words about it if he knew, but it seems Eddie got away with that mortifying bit of trivia.

As it is, he managed to hide his fruitless crush for quite a while. At least until it wasn’t fruitless anymore.

In fact, it’s been very fruitful!

So much so that they’re holding a bonding ceremony today in front of all their friends and family in just a few minutes.

Eddie is going to commit his life and love to Steve, promise to protect him and their pack as alpha, and take a vow of faithfulness, til death do they part.

And that scares the absolute shit out of him.

Don’t misunderstand him, Eddie loves Steve beyond measurable words! He’s absolutely wonderful.

Steve is the most beautiful omega alive with the biggest heart and the tightest, wettest, juiciest pus—

He’s getting off track now and he has to focus.

Because if Eddie can’t get himself together and get out in front of a packed chapel in just a few minutes, it’s going to look like he doesn’t love Steve.

He’s afraid of lots of things in life.

Demobats, Robin, Dustin’s baking skills, Robin, ending up like his father, and most importantly, Robin.

But never of loving Steve. That’s the only thing he’s ever been 100% sure of.

And yet he is frozen in fear.

“Ed, it’s just about time to get things started. How ya feelin’ in here?”

Thank fuck for Wayne.

The only man (aside from Steve) who has ever been able to understand him.

Eddie doesn’t need to say a word about his current panic. All he has to do is turn to his uncle and his face says it all.

Wayne speaks fluent ‘Eddie.’

“Son, what’s on yer mind? That sweet boy of yers is getting all dolled up for ya right now and yer mind clearly ain’t there.”

“I’m going to do something to fuck this up and Steve won’t love me anymore,” Eddie blurts out.

There’s no point beating around the bush.

He’s been thinking about it all morning. Maybe longer than that. Maybe ever since Steve accepted his final courting gift and subsequent bonding proposal.

Part of him thought their entire courting was a cruel joke the universe was playing on him anyway.

Life has never been very fair to Eddie. He doesn’t waste time crying about it or whatever, but shit has always been unnecessary rough and he’s used to that.

But this was truly insane.

A perfect omega like Steve Harrington has no business even talking to an alpha like Eddie, let alone being courted by him.

The only reason he’d even started courting Steve is that Robin threatened to break his arm if he didn’t “man up and ask him out already, you lovesick loser!”

Robin really scares him.

But it had worked and they’ve been going steady ever since.

Every day feels like a dream and every morning Eddie wakes up expecting to find that it really was all a dream and he’s back dozing off in math class after doodling their initials in hearts again.

It’s a nightmare.

No, loving Steve doesn’t scare him, but the idea of potentially losing him terrifies Eddie.

“Well now, I think you’ve had too much time thinkin’ by yerself, kid. Ain’t a damn thing that could pull the two of ya apart, far as I can see. A sturdy axe and strong arm couldn’t split you boys up.”

Wayne’s words of wisdom always come from a place of love. And a simple explanation of life the way he views it.

Eddie’s not entirely sold on it yet, but he wants to believe that there’s hope for them.

He wants—no, needs— a life by Steve’s side more than anything else.

“That’s all fine and dandy, Wayne, but what about when I do something stupid and he realizes what kind of dumbass he’s mated to? What if he starts to hate me and he’s stuck with me?” Eddie challenges back.

Wayne sighs, coming forward to straighten the wrinkled lapels of Eddie’s jacket.

He meticulously smoothes them out from where Eddie was pulling at them nervously.

“Do you remember that time ya were supposed to pick Steve up for the movies and ya forgot ya had band practice that night?”

Oh god. That was one of Eddie’s lowest moments in life.

They both cried that night.

“Yeah, of course I do. I left Steve waiting in the rain and I felt terrible about it! Is that supposed to make me feel better or are you telling me that I’m right and I shouldn’t go through with this?”

Wayne gives him a look.

It’s the one that says he should shut up and listen.

He does.

“Ed, you’ve fucked up before. Ya left him in the rain, ya spilled ketchup on his favorite yellow shirt, ya tried to trim up his hair and took a big chunk out of it instead.”

Eddie wants to crawl under a rock and wait there until he’s dead and nobody can find him ever again.

“Yes, I get it! I’m stupid and reckless and I hurt the people I love! This pep talk sucks ass, Wayne.”

His uncle finally smiles. Such a weird old man. Proof that he’s a Munson.

“You’ve done just ‘bout everything ya can do to fuck things up and Steve still wants to be your mate, son. He loves ya.”

Oh.

Hmmm.

Yeah, that’s true. He has fucked up. On numerous occasions.

Never on purpose, but Steve has always forgiven him graciously regardless. That’s the kind of man he is.

Wayne wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and pulls him close for a tight hug, like the old days.

“Steve isn’t going anywhere. He’s made that clear. Now ya need to honor that decision by pulling yer head out of yer ass and showing him that he’s making the right choice today. Go get yer boy, Ed,” Wayne whispers emphatically.

Eddie has to wipe away a few stray tears first.

Then he struts into that chapel with his head held high, a new confidence in his step.

When Steve walks down the aisle to meet him, he’s as beautiful as ever.

Clothed in pure white and a natural blush that makes Eddie want to do nasty things to his omega.

He’s ready for forever.

“Hi, baby.”

[lovehazard]

Yandere delusional König.

Note: So… I wrote this a while ago, but I never had the courage the post it. Anyway hope you guys like it (sorry if it's bad </3)

König was never a religious man. God never listened to his prayers when he needed it, so eventually, he stopped believing. He even hated the very idea of it. But all of that changed when he met you.

To König, you are divine. His light, his guardian angel, his savior… His everything.

You are his God.

It doesn’t matter how you met, whether it was in a battlefield drenched in blood, in the mess hall over a mundane meal, or in the quiet hum of everyday life. The moment König laid eyes on you, he knew. It was like standing beneath the heavens, staring at the most radiant star in the vast night sky. His very soul trembled in awe.

At first, just seeing you from far away was enough. Your presence alone was a blessing. Even on the worst of days, when his mind rotted with self-loathing and paranoia, when the world felt too loud, too cruel – one glimpse of you was enough to silence it all.

But then he saw you smile.

And suddenly, he needed more.

The first time he took a picture of you, he was wracked with guilt. He whispered an apology under his breath, gripping his phone like a sinner clutching a rosary. It’s just one picture… But then one became two. Two became ten. Ten became hundreds. Each one a sacred relic, proof of your existence, proof that you blessed this wretched earth with your presence.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

No, simply watching from afar was no longer enough. König needed to be closer. He needed to hear your voice, to bask in the melody of your words, to feel the warmth of your skin – proof that you were real.

So he started talking to you. Just small things at first – greetings, questions, little excuses to hear you acknowledge him. And when you spoke to him? When you said his name?

It was divine.

A shiver of euphoria ran down his spine each time. His name, once something he despised, now sounded like a prayer on your lips.

And yet, he still wasn’t satisfied.

Because others could hear you too. Others could see you, touch you, steal your attention away from him. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. You were his. His angel. His God. His.

You wouldn’t understand yet, not when the world had poisoned your mind against him. But he could not stand idly by while they defiled you with their presence – those wretched, unworthy beings who dared to touch you, to speak your name as if it belonged to them.

No, he had to save you.

And when the moment arrived, it was almost too easy.

You never even saw it coming.

One moment, you were walking home, lost in thought, unaware of the towering figure lurking just beyond the streetlights. The next, the world went dark – a rag pressed over your mouth, strong arms locking around you before you could even think to fight.

A muffled cry. A sharp inhale. The bitter, sickly-sweet scent of chemicals flooding your senses.

And then, nothing.

When you woke up, everything felt wrong.

Your body was sluggish, your limbs heavy as if they were weighed down by something unseen. Your mind swam through a fog of confusion, your last memories slipping through your fingers like sand.

Then you noticed it.

A weight–warm, solid, heavy–pressed against your lap.

Blinking against the haze, you forced yourself to look down.

There, kneeling before you, was König. His massive form was curled in submission, his broad shoulders rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths. His head rested against your thighs, his hands clenched together in a white-knuckled grip. The soft murmur of words ghosted through the room, reverent, almost like a prayer.

At first, the words made no sense, spoken in hushed German, too quiet to fully make out.

A chill ran down your spine.

Your breath hitched, and that small sound was enough to break the trance.

König froze.

Slowly, as if afraid you would shatter at the slightest touch, he lifted his head. His masked face tilted upward, deep-set eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach twist. For a moment, neither of you moved. The silence stretched–thick, suffocating.

Then, his breath hitched, his fingers twitching before he reached for you, hesitating just inches from your skin.

"Mein Gott…" he whispered, his voice raw, almost trembling.

There was something almost holy in the way he looked at you, as if he were gazing upon a divine miracle.

You tried to move, to pull away, to scramble back, but your body was still sluggish, weak. Panic surged through you, clawing at your chest.

"Please, do not be afraid," he murmured, his voice gentle, soothing… Wrong. "I know this is sudden, but… I had to. I had to take you away from them. They did not deserve you. They could not see you as I do. They would have tainted you, stolen you from me."

His hands curled into fists, his shoulders tensing before he exhaled shakily, trying to calm himself.

"But you are safe now."

He reached again, this time resting his palm on your cheek, warm, trembling with restraint. His eyes bore into yours, filled with something twisted.

"You will understand soon."

[meinii]

“I will always find my way back to you”

summary: you and dragon Sylus in the fields, just playing and reassuring each other

content: fluff, ♡dragon sylus♡

୨୧･｡｡･♡･∴･♡･｡｡･୨୧

the fields stretched endlessly before them, golden with wildflowers swaying in the breeze, the scent of earth and blossoms weaving into the crisp afternoon air.

the sky above was a vast, unbroken blue, untouched by the judgment of men or the cruelty of fate

here, in this forgotten place, there were no priests whispering of curses, no warriors sharpening their blades to hunt monsters

here, it was just the two of you.

you laughed as you ran through the flowers, brushing your hands over their soft petals, feeling the sun warm your skin.

the wind played with your hair, and for a moment, it was easy to believe that the world was kind. that you weren’t someone meant to die. that Sylus wasn’t someone meant to be chained in it forever.

behind you, a deep, rumbling chuckle filled the air as Sylus followed at a slower pace—his horns gleaming in the sunlight, his silver hair tousled by the wind, his sharp crimson eyes fixed on you

“you’re enjoying yourself too much” he remarked, his voice carrying amusement

you turned to face him, hands on your hips “you say that like it’s a bad thing”

he arched a brow, a smirk playing on his lips “I suppose not. but you look ridiculous.”

you gasped in mock offense, picking up a handful of petals and tossing them at him “you’re just jealous because I’m faster than you”

his smirk widened, something dangerous glinting in his gaze, “Is that so?”

before you could react, he surged forward, his speed inhuman.

you barely had time to turn before his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you up off the ground

a startled laugh burst from your lips as he spun you around, holding you effortlessly

“say that again” he challenged, his voice low against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine

“I take it back! I take it back!”

you laughed, wriggling in his grasp, but he only held you tighter, his warmth seeping into you

he finally set you down, but his hands lingered at your waist, his touch firm yet careful. when you looked up at him, the mischief in his expression had softened, replaced by something else

something deeper.

the two of you stood there in the field, the wind whispering around you, the world forgotten beyond this moment. his hands traced slow, absent patterns against your sides, and your fingers curled around his wrists, feeling the pulse beneath his skin.

“Sylus…” you murmured his name without thinking, but he hummed in response, his eyes never leaving yours

“I’ve never seen you this happy before” he said quietly

you swallowed, feeling your heart tighten “because I’ve never had a reason to be”

he exhaled through his nose, his hold on you tightening just slightly. his expression darkened—not in anger, but in the way he always did when reminded of what the world had done to you. to him.

“to think,” he murmured, tilting his head slightly, “the whole world believes we should be enemies”

you smiled faintly “and yet, I can’t imagine being anywhere else but here with you.”

he stilled at your words, his fingers pressing into your skin just a little harder, as if grounding himself in the moment.

his gaze flickered, something shifting behind his crimson irises—something vulnerable, raw.

a long silence stretched between you, neither of you moving. then, slowly, he lifted a hand, cupping the side of your face. his clawed fingers were careful against your skin, as if afraid you might break

“I used to dream of this,” he admitted, his voice quieter now “not the field. not the sun. just… not being alone”

you leaned into his touch, your eyes searching his

“you’re not alone anymore.”

a slow exhale left him, and his forehead came to rest against yours

“say that again”

you smiled “you’re not alone anymore, Sylus”

his arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest. his heartbeat was steady, deep and strong, and you closed your eyes, breathing him in

no matter what the prophecies said.

no matter what fate was holding for you.

no matter how the world saw him, how they saw you.

you weren’t letting go.

his arms wrapped around you, shielding you from everything beyond this moment.

you felt the sharp points of his claws ghost against your back as he held you tighter.

his voice was almost a whisper when he finally spoke again

“promise me.”

you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your hands resting against his chest

“promise you what?”

his eyes burned into yours, something desperate lingering in the depths of his crimson irises

“that no matter what happens, no matter who tries to keep us apart, you’ll stay with me”

your heart clenched, you knew what he was asking

you knew the weight of those words, the shadows of the prophecy that loomed over you both

and you also knew your answer.

you reached up, threading your fingers into his silver hair, pulling him closer

“I swear it,” you whispered “I will always find my way back to you”

something in him shattered, you saw it in his eyes before he kissed you

it wasn’t rushed, nor was it desperate

it was deep, slow, unbreakable.

his lips moved against yours as if sealing the promise between you, branding it into existence

his arms caged you against him, and your fingers curled against his shirt, holding him just as fiercely.

when he finally pulled away, his breath was heavy, his gaze laced with something tender yet unyielding

“then I swear it too,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours once more

“no matter what, I will always be yours.”

the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the fields in gold and crimson, but you and Sylus remained, wrapped in each other, wrapped in a promise that even fate itself could not break

[stylesispunk]

'You gave me something to lose'

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel is afraid of losing you.

wc: 4k>

warnings: angst, mentions of panic attacks, fluff. Messy writing cause this is an old draft.

a/n: this was on my drafts for so long so I'm posting this as a gift because I'm going to London for the next two weeks and I won't be very active on here. So once I return, I promise I'll write the pendant things and requests I have. I hope you like this one. Happy reading 💌

dividerers by @/saradika-graphics

Joel didn’t fear anything, not dying nor being alone or even broke.

Not the clickers, not darkness, but you.

when his mission to take Ellie to the fireflies became into caring for the teen, he felt panicked.

And when he learned he had fallen deeply in love with you, you gave him something to lose.

And he was frightened.

Joel had always been a fortress, walls built high and strong to keep out the pain and loss he had endured. But now, those walls were crumbling. Each moment he spent with you, each secret you both had shared, each tender touch, chipped away at the defenses he had so meticulously constructed.

Since the day Joel met you at the QZ in Boston, you had stolen something from him. He didn’t decipher what back then, but every time you weren’t on his sight, a knot formed on his stomach. Every time he caught a glimpse of you, his blood rushed into his cheeks.

And God, every single time you smiled at him, he could find a reason to keep surviving in this world, again.

And that’s why when you had decided to go after him, when he and Tess took Ellie with them to the fireflies. He had made up his mind, between the anger and tinted loved was feeling for you right at that moment, he had decided he was going to protect you more than anything or anyone. Even when you got on his nerves.

The journey to the fireflies was grueling. The roads were treacherous, infested with clickers and hunters. Every step was a battle, every night a gamble. But Joel was relentless. He led the way with a grim determination, always keeping you and Ellie close. The tension was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the danger that lurked in every shadow.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the desolate landscape, you found a moment of respite. The group set up camp in an abandoned building, its crumbling walls offering a semblance of shelter. Joel, ever vigilant, took the first watch.

You approached him, the flickering firelight casting dancing shadows across his weathered face. He looked up as you neared, his eyes softening slightly. “You should get some rest,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

You shook your head, sitting down beside him. “I can’t sleep. Too much on my mind.”

Joel glanced at you, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Yeah, I get that.” There was a pause, a comfortable silence settling between you. “You know,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper, “I never thought I’d feel this way again. Not after everything.”

You looked at him, searching his eyes. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ve…” he paused, “Never mind.”

You furrowed your brow, sensing the weight of his unspoken words. “Joel, you can talk to me. Whatever it is, I’m here.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “It’s just… it’s hard to explain.” He paused again, just a few seconds, lifting his gaze up to yours “Why did you followed us three?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, but you didn’t hesitate in your response. “I didn’t follow all of you. I followed you.”

“Why?”

“Because back in the QZ there wasn’t a life after you” you confessed, “Life sucks in there, but without you it would be worse.”

Joel’s eyes widened slightly, the vulnerability of your words hitting him harder than he expected. He stared at you, trying to process the depth of your feelings. “I never knew…”

“Of course you didn’t,” you interrupted softly. “You’ve always been so focused on surviving, on protecting Tess and yourself, that you’ve never stopped to see how much you mean to people. How much you mean to me.”

He shook his head, struggling to find the right words. “Good to know it because I feel the same about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his admission filling you with warmth. "Joel..."

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “When I met you, I didn’t think I could care for anyone again. But you... you changed that.”

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, but you held them back, not wanting to break the cosmic moment “I’m glad. Because I can’t imagine going through this without you.”

Joel reached out, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a stray tear that had escaped. “Now can you, please go to sleep?”

“Can I sleep here?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel’s expression softened, and without hesitation, he nodded. “Yeah, you can.”

He shifted, making room for you to lie down beside him. As you settled in, the warmth of his body next to yours was both comforting and grounding. You felt his arm wrap around you, pulling you closer, and you snuggled into his embrace, feeling safe and protected.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.

“For what?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your hair.

“For letting me in. For trusting me.”

Joel pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I trust you more than anyone. And I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You smiled, the weight of the world feeling just a little bit lighter in his arms. “We’ll figure it out together. “As the night deepened, the sounds of the wilderness outside seemed distant, the crackling fire casting a gentle glow around you. Joel’s steady heartbeat and the rise and fall of his chest were the lullaby that finally coaxed you into sleep. In his arms, you found a peace you hadn’t known in a long time.

He felt his heart giving up for you.

That had happened a few months ago.

And Joel had become afraid. He found himself lying awake almost every night, staring at the sky and the stars, a storm of thoughts raging in his mind. What if something happened to you? What if he couldn't protect you? The thought of losing you, of seeing the light fade from your eyes, was a nightmare he couldn't bear. It was a fear far greater than anything he had ever faced; greater than the harsh realities of the post-apocalyptic world he had navigated for so long.

During the day, he tried to push these fears aside, trying to focus on the present. But it was impossible. Every smile you gave him reminded him of what he stood to lose. Every time you reached for his hand, his heart ached with the weight of his love for you and the dread of its potential loss.

He watched you with Ellie, how you cared for her, and how you brought joy and laughter into her bleak world. He saw how you made her feel safe and loved, and it only made his feelings for you deepen. Ellie, too, had become a part of this fragile, makeshift family, and his love for both of you intertwined, creating a web of vulnerability he couldn't escape.

The wind howled outside, carrying with it the bitter cold of the frozen winter night. Inside the small, dilapidated cabin, a fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow across the room. You, Joel, and Ellie huddled close to the fire, trying to fend off the chill that seemed to seep through the very walls.

Ellie poked at the fire with a stick, her eyes reflecting the dancing flames. "What do you think it’ll be like, Joel?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

Joel looked up from the map he was studying, his eyes softening as he met Ellie’s gaze. "What do you mean?"

"After the cure," she said. "When this is all over. What do you think it’ll be like?"

Joel leaned back against the rough wooden wall, his mind drifting to a time long past. "I reckon things will be...different. Better, maybe. People could rebuild, start over. There might be schools again, towns with shops, places where kids can just be kids."

Ellie smiled at the thought, her imagination running wild with possibilities. "I want to learn to play guitar," she said. "Like you, Joel. You promised to teach me, remember?"

Joel chuckled softly, a rare sound in these harsh times. "Yeah, I remember. We'll find one, and I'll teach you. Maybe we can even have a little concert, you and me."

You watched the exchange, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "What about you, Joel? What's something you’d want to do?"

Joel hesitated, his eyes flicking to you. "I... I’d like to have a place of our own. Somewhere safe. Maybe a little house with a garden. We could grow our own food, live a quiet life. Just...be together."

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. "That sounds nice," you said softly. "Really nice."

The conversation drifted into a comfortable silence, each of you lost in thoughts of a hopeful future. You leaned against Joel, the warmth of his body a comforting presence. His arm wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you closer.

Ellie yawned and stretched out on the floor next to the fire. "I think I'm going to get some sleep," she said, her voice already heavy with exhaustion.

"Good idea," Joel replied. "I’ll keep the watch."

Ellie nodded and pulled her blanket tightly around herself, quickly drifting off to sleep. You and Joel stayed by the fire, the quiet crackling of the flames the only sound in the room.

"Do you really think there’s hope for a cure?" you asked quietly, your head resting on his shoulder.

Joel sighed, his fingers gently stroking your arm. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I have to believe there is. For Ellie. For you."

You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes searching his. "You’ve been through so much, Joel. Yet you still find it in you to hope. That’s incredible."

He shook his head slightly. "It's not hope," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you.”

Joel’s panic attacks had become more frequent as the days passed. Every quiet moment seemed to stretch into an eternity of worry and fear. He could feel the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him, and the constant fear that he wouldn’t be able to protect you or Ellie gnawed at him relentlessly.

When the three of you had finally arrived at Jackson, Joel’s thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Jackson was a sanctuary, a place where you could all be safe, but his fears didn’t dissipate. If anything, they grew stronger. The more secure the surroundings, the more he worried about what could go wrong.

Jackson was bustling with life, a stark contrast to the desolate landscapes they had traversed. Children played in the streets, people worked in gardens, and there was a sense of community and hope that was almost overwhelming. Joel watched it all with a heavy heart, his mind racing.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was going to die, that some unseen danger would take him away from you and Ellie. The thought of leaving you unprotected was unbearable. That’s when the idea started to form: maybe the best way to protect you was to leave you in Jackson, where you’d be safe. Where you could even find someone younger than him to kept you alive.

Joel sought out his brother. He found Tommy in the community hall, finishing up some late-night paperwork. The room was quiet, the only sound the scratch of Tommy’s pen against the paper.

"Tommy," Joel said, his voice low and strained.

Tommy looked up, immediately sensing the urgency in his brother’s tone. "Joel, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling. He sat down across from Tommy, his eyes filled with anguish. "I need to talk to you. It’s about Ellie and... and my….my " He couldn’t find the words to describe you. Calling you his lover wasn’t a proper word to use, it felt so weak. There was not nickname that could make justice to what you meant to him.

“Your girlfriend?” Tommy asked.

Joel nodded.

Tommy set his pen down, giving Joel his full attention. "Alright, tell me what’s on your mind."

Joel’s voice cracked as he spoke. "I don’t know how much longer I can do this. The fear... it’s eating me alive. I’m so scared something’s going to happen to them, and I won’t be able to protect them."

Tommy’s expression softened. "Joel, you’re in Jackson now. It’s safe here. We’ve got walls, people who care about each other. You don’t have to do this alone."

Joel shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. "You don’t understand. I feel like I’m going to die, like something’s going to take me away from them. And then what? What happens to them if I’m gone?"

Tommy reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder. "We’ll take care of them, Joel. You’re not alone in this."

Joel’s tears began to fall, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m asking you to take Ellie with you. Keep her safe. And let my baby stay here in Jackson. She deserves a life that’s not filled with running and fear."

Tommy’s eyes widened in shock. "Joel, are you sure about this? You’re talking about leaving them behind."

"I’m not leaving them," Joel said, his voice trembling. "I’m trying to protect them. They’ll be safer without me."

Tommy sighed, his heart breaking for his brother. "And what about you, Joel? What happens to you if you leave?"

Joel wiped his tears, trying to steady himself. "I’ll find a way to keep going. I just need to know they’re safe. That’s all that matters."

Tommy nodded slowly, understanding the depth of Joel’s fear and love. "Alright, Joel. If this is what you think is best, I’ll take care of them. But you need to talk to them first. They deserve to know why you’re doing this."

Joel nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. "I will. Thank you, Tommy."

Tommy pulled Joel into a tight embrace; his voice filled with emotion. "We’re family, Joel. We take care of each other."

Joel clung to his brother, the tears flowing freely now. He knew the conversation with you and Ellie would be one of the hardest things he’d ever have to do, but he also knew it was necessary. The fear of losing you both was too great to ignore, and he hoped that, in time, you would understand why he had to make this choice.

Joel walked slowly to Ellie’s room, his heart heavy with the burden of what he was about to do. He knew this conversation would be one of the hardest of his life, but he also believed it was necessary. He took a deep breath and knocked softly on her door.

“Come in,” Ellie’s voice called from inside.

He opened the door and stepped into the room. Ellie was sitting on her bed, reading one of the books she had found in Jackson’s library. She looked up and smiled when she saw him, but her smile faded when she noticed the serious expression on his face.

“Joel, what’s wrong?” she asked, her brows furrowing with concern.

Joel closed the door behind him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He looked at Ellie, her young face full of life and determination, and it made his heart ache.

“Ellie, we need to talk,” he said softly, struggling to find the right words.

Ellie set her book aside and gave him her full attention. “What’s going on?”

Joel took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly. “Ellie, I’ve been thinking a lot about our journey, about everything we’ve been through. And... about what comes next.”

Ellie shook her head, her voice rising with emotion. “Joel, no. We’re supposed to stick together. We’re a team.”

Joel looked down, unable to meet her eyes. “Ellie, I’m not sure I can keep doing this. The fear... it’s too much. I’m scared something’s going to happen to you, and I won’t be able to protect you.”

Ellie reached out, placing a hand on his arm. “We protect each other, Joel. That’s how we’ve always done it.”

Joel swallowed hard, his voice breaking. “I’m asking Tommy to take you to the fireflies. He’ll keep you safe until you arrive to the hospital.”

Ellie’s eyes filled with tears, and she shook her head fiercely. “No, Joel. I’m not going without you. We’ve come this far together, and I’m not leaving you.”

Joel’s heart ached at her words, but he forced himself to continue. “Ellie, you need to understand. I’m not... I’m not your father. I can’t be the one to keep you safe forever.”

The words hung heavy in the air, and Ellie’s tears began to fall. “You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father, Joel. Don’t you get that? Fuck”

Joel’s own tears threatened to spill over, but he steeled himself. “But you’re not my daughter and I’m not your father.”

Ellie shook her head, her voice filled with desperation. “No, Joel. Please. Don’t do this. We need you.”

Joel reached out, cupping her face in his hands. “I need you to trust me, Ellie. This is the best way to keep you safe.”

Ellie pulled away from his touch, her face a mix of anger and heartbreak. “I don’t want to be safe if it means losing you. You and her are all I have, Joel.”

Joel stood up, his heart shattering at her words. “I’m sorry, Ellie. But this is how it has to be.”

He turned and walked toward the door, each step feeling like a lead weight. He paused at the doorway, looking back at Ellie one last time.

With that, he walked out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. He leaned against the wall, his heart breaking at the sound of Ellie’s muffled sobs. He knew this was one of the hardest decisions he had ever made, but he believed it was the right one.

As he stood there, trying to compose himself, he heard footsteps approaching. You appeared at the end of the hallway, having heard the conversation. Your eyes met his, and in that moment, he saw the same mix of anger, hurt, and confusion that Ellie had shown.

You approached Joel slowly, your face a mix of anger and hurt. He could see the questions in your eyes, the need for an explanation that would make sense of the pain he had caused.

"Joel," you said, your voice trembling. "What are you doing?"

Joel looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "I'm trying to keep you both safe. You and Ellie. This place, Jackson... it's where you can have a real life."

Your eyes narrowed, and you took a step closer. "And you think abandoning us is the way to do that? How could you even consider leaving us behind?"

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping. "It's not abandoning you. It's making sure you're protected. If something happens to me—"

You cut him off, your voice rising with emotion. "Don't you get it, Joel? We need you. Ellie needs you. I need you. You're the reason we've made it this far. You can't just walk away."

Joel's eyes were filled with pain as he looked up at you. "I can't shake the fear that I'm going to die, that I won't be there when you need me most. I thought if I left, you'd be safer."

You stepped even closer, your anger giving way to desperation. "Safer? Joel, we've faced everything together. We protect each other. How can you think we'd be better off without you? How can you think I would be better off without you?""

Joel's voice was barely a whisper. "Because I can't bear the thought of losing you.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you knew you had to make him understand. You reached out, taking his hands in yours. "Joel, I love you. I need you with me, not just for protection, but because you're my love. Leaving me won't keep me safe; it'll break me."

Joel looked at you, tears welling in his eyes. "I don't know if I can do this. The fear is... it's too much."

You squeezed his hands, your voice gentle but firm. "We'll face it together, Joel. Just like we always have. You're not alone in this. Please, don't leave me."

Joel pulled you into a tight embrace, his tears finally spilling over. "I'm so scared," he admitted, his voice choked with emotion.

You held him close, your own tears falling. "I know, Joel. But we're stronger together. I need you. Ellie and I need you"

As you stood there, holding each other in the quiet of the hallway, Joel felt the weight of his fear begin to lift. The love and determination in your voice gave him the strength he needed to keep going. At least for a bit.

After a long moment, Joel pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I was trying to do the right thing.”

You nodded; your heart full of relief. "We'll figure it out, Joel. Together."

Joel took a deep breath, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you so much,” he said, pecking your lips.

Your heart swelled with emotion as you returned his kiss, a soft, reassuring touch. “I love you too, Joel,” you whispered, your voice steady with conviction.

Joel rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if trying to etch this moment into his memory. “I just don’t want to lose you or Ellie. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to either of you.”

You stroked his cheek, your thumb brushing away a stray tear. “We’re not going anywhere, Joel. We’ve made it through so much already, and we’ll keep making it through. Together.”

He nodded, pulling you into a tighter embrace, the warmth of his body a comforting reminder of his presence. “Together,” he repeated, his voice more confident now.

You pulled back slightly from the embrace, looking up into Joel’s eyes. "Come on," you said softly, taking his hand. "Let’s get cleaned up. It’s been a long day."

He nodded, allowing you to lead him down the hall to the bathroom. The room was small, but it had a functioning shower—one of the many luxuries you had come to appreciate in this place. You turned on the water, adjusting the temperature until it was just right.

Joel stood there, watching you with an exhaustion and adoration. He started to undress, his movements were slow You did the same, your eyes meeting his with every piece of clothing that fell to the floor. There was an unspoken understanding between you. Both of you bared int front of each other, stealing glances of your bodies in display.

Once you were both undressed, you stepped into the shower together. The warm water cascaded over your bodies, washing away the grime and tension of the day. You reached for the soap, lathering it between your hands before gently running them over Joel’s shoulders and back.

He sighed, leaning into your touch. "You don’t have to do this," he murmured.

"I want to," you replied, your voice tender. "Let me take care of you." You said, pressing a kiss on his wet shoulder.

You continued to wash him, your hands moving in soothing, circular motions. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment began to ease the tension in his muscles. When you reached his hair, you took the shampoo and began to work it into a lather, your fingers massaging his scalp.

Joel closed his eyes, a soft groan escaping his lips. "That feels nice," he admitted.

You smiled, continuing to wash his hair with gentle care. "Good. You deserve to relax."

After rinsing the shampoo from his hair, you handed him the soap. "Your turn," you said with a playful smile.

He took the soap, his hands surprisingly gentle as he began to wash your shoulders and back. The feel of his strong, calloused hands against your skin was comforting, a reminder of how much you meant to each other. He took his time, his touch tender and affectionate, showing the love he felt for you.

When he reached your hair, he repeated the process, his fingers working the shampoo through your locks with the same care you had shown him. You closed your eyes, savoring the sensation of his hands in your hair and the warmth of the water cascading over you.

For a while, the two of you stood there, simply enjoying the closeness and the rare moment of peace. The world outside might be filled with danger and uncertainty, but here, in this small bathroom, there was only love.

When you were both clean, you turned off the water and reached for a towel, wrapping it around Joel’s shoulders before taking another for yourself. You helped each other dry off, the intimacy of the moment deepening the existent bond between you.

Joel looked at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and love. "Thank you," he said softly.

You cupped his face in your hands, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "We’re in this together, Joel. Always."

He nodded, pulling you into a tight embrace. "Together," he echoed.

As you both stood there in the warmth of the bathroom, wrapped in towels and each other's embrace, the bond between you felt stronger than ever. The fear and uncertainty of the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the love and trust you had for each other.

Joel kissed the top of your head and took your hand, leading you back to the bedroom. The soft glow of the lamp illuminated the bedroom, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. You both moved slowly, savoring the peaceful moment.

You helped Joel into bed, making sure he was comfortable before slipping in beside him. He pulled you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you. The simple act of being in his arms felt like the safest place in the world.

Joel tilted his head slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead as he spoke. "I love you so much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I can ever put into words."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at the raw honesty in his eyes. "I love you too, Joel. So much."

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I don't think I've ever felt this way before. I mean, caring this much for someone. Not since Sarah. And it's... it's scary. But it's also the most wonderful thing I’ve ever felt."

Your heart ached for him at the mention of Sarah, but you knew how important it was for Joel to express his feelings. You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, your thumb brushing against his stubble. "It's okay to be scared, Joel. But you're not alone in this. We’re in it together."

Joel nodded, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You've given me something I thought I’d lost forever. Hope. A reason to keep fighting. And I want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to protect you, to make sure we have a future together."

You leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "We’ll protect each other. And we’ll build that future, one day at a time."

He wrapped his arms around you tighter, holding you close as if trying to memorize the feeling of having you in his arms. "I promise you, I'll never let anything happen to you. You and Ellie mean everything to me."

You snuggled closer, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "And you mean everything to us, Joel. We're stronger together."

Joel sighed contentedly, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your back. "Thank you for standing by me, for believing in me. I don't know what I’d do without you."

You smiled against his chest, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you. "You'll never have to find out, because I'm not going anywhere."

With that, you both drifted into a peaceful sleep, the worries of the world outside momentarily forgotten. In each other's arms, you found solace and strength, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead together.

Hours later, Joel woke up in the middle of the night, the room shrouded in darkness. He instinctively reached out for you, but his hand found only empty space. Panic surged through him, his heart pounding as he sat up, his eyes scanning the room.

"Baby, where are you?" he muttered, throwing the blankets aside as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He quickly pulled on his pants and a shirt, his movements hurried and frantic. The fear of losing you, so deeply ingrained in his mind, took hold as he rushed out of the bedroom.

He moved swiftly down the hallway, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Had something happened? Had someone taken you? The thoughts were unbearable. He reached the top of the stairs and bolted down them, nearly stumbling in his haste.

When he reached the bottom, he paused, his eyes darting around the living room. Relief washed over him as he saw you sitting on the couch, a cup of tea cradled in your hands. You looked up, startled by his sudden appearance.

"Joel, what’s wrong?" you asked, concern etching your features.

He let out a shaky breath, his heart still racing. "I woke up and you weren’t there," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I thought something had happened to you."

You set your tea down on the table and stood up, crossing the room to him. "I’m sorry," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "I couldn’t sleep, so I came down to make some tea. I didn’t mean to scare you."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if to reassure himself that you were really there. "It’s okay," he murmured into your hair. "I just...I can’t bear the thought of losing you."

You held him just as tightly, feeling the intensity of his emotions. "You won’t lose me, Joel. I promise."

He nodded, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. "I know. It’s just...sometimes the fear gets the better of me."

You cupped his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing over his cheeks. "I understand," you said gently. "But we’re safe here. We have each other."

He sighed, the tension slowly easing from his body. "Yeah, we do."

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to the couch. "Sit with me for a while. The tea is still warm."

He followed you, sitting down beside you on the couch. You picked up your cup and handed it to him. "Here, takes a sip. It’ll help you relax."

He took the cup, his hands still slightly trembling. He sipped the tea, the warmth spreading through him, helping to calm his nerves. "Thanks," he said, his voice steadier.

You leaned against him, your head resting on his shoulder. "We’ll get through this, Joel. Together."

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "Yeah, we will."

The two of you sat there in the quiet of the night, the warmth of the tea and the comfort of each other’s presence soothing the fears that had momentarily overwhelmed him. In that moment, Joel felt a renewed sense of peace, knowing that as long as you were by his side, he could face anything the future held.

As the minutes passed, the tension in Joel's body melted away. He looked down at you, your eyes closed, content and calm. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you," he whispered, the words carrying all the weight of his heart.

"I love you too," you replied softly, without opening your eyes.

Joel took another sip of the tea, its warmth soothing him from the inside out. The night was still and quiet, a rare tranquility enveloping your home. He gazed around the room, taking in the modest, yet comforting surroundings. This place, this sanctuary in Jackson, could become more than just a shelter. A home.

You snuggled closer to him, and Joel felt a profound sense of gratitude. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to truly believe in the possibility of a future filled with hope and love. The horrors of the past, the constant threats of the present, they all seemed a little more bearable with you by his side.

"We’ve been through so much," he said quietly, his fingers gently stroking your hair. "But sitting here with you, it makes it all worth it."

You opened your eyes and looked up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We’ve found something real, Joel. Something worth fighting for. And no matter what comes our way, we’ll face it together."

Joel nodded, feeling the truth of your words settle deep within him. "Together," he echoed, his voice filled with conviction. "Always."

The two of you sat there in the stillness, the warmth of each other's presence a balm for your souls. Joel felt a sense of peace he hadn't known in years. With you, he had found a reason to hope, to believe in a better tomorrow.

As the night wore on, the exhaustion of the day began to catch up with him. You noticed his eyelids growing heavy and gently took the cup from his hands, setting it on the table. "Come on," you whispered, standing up and offering your hand. "Let’s get some rest."

Joel took your hand and allowed you to lead him back to the bedroom. The room was still bathed in the soft glow of the lamp, casting a warm light over the bed. You both slipped under the covers, and Joel pulled you close, your bodies fitting together perfectly.

With you in his arms, the fear and anxiety that had plagued him earlier faded away. The rhythm of your breathing, the steady beat of your heart against his chest, all served as a reminder of the love and strength you shared.

"Goodnight, Joel," you murmured, your voice filled with tenderness. "Goodnight," he replied, pressing a final kiss to your forehead.

As he closed his eyes, Joel felt a deep sense of contentment. No matter what the future held, he knew that with you by his side, he could face it all. Together, you had built something beautiful amidst the chaos, and that was something worth holding on to.

In the quiet darkness, with you in his arms, Joel finally allowed himself to drift into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of the life you would continue to build together, one filled with love, hope, and endless possibilities.

[kivino]

kivi.. pls hear my vision. different situations where reader and ghost hug because he’s too afraid to say “i love you” at the moment, but both of you know what his hugs mean. PLEAAASEEE AGHH (and gn!reader ofc)

HUSH || SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X GN!READER

Word counter - ~1k words

A/n - PLSS i love your idea so much, he'd be awfully awkward, but we love him for it <3333

ao3 link for this fic

The first time Simon hugged you like this, unprompted and spontaneous, you froze. He felt warm, huge, a bit awkward and out of place but genuine, true. He wanted to tell you so many things he had on his mind, but he just couldn’t, lips sealed under that skull balaclava, leaning into you and squeezing so hard you couldn’t even return the hug. Minutes spent in this position felt like a whole eternity.

“Simon, what are you…”

“Shut up.”

So, you did. Hearing his steady breathing close to your ear, even feeling his heartbeat against your chest…and how fast it was. He was nervous. That was surprisingly sweet. You felt a smile tugging on the corners of your mouth when you heard him exhale and squeeze you even tighter in his arms. You don’t question his behavior when he reluctantly lets you go.

Each hug he gives you feels like home. As you make your way back from the draining mission, Simon rests his arm around your shoulders and leans against you, while the two of you sit next to each other, finding comfort in each other’s presence. His head bumps into yours, so you shift slightly against him, and it finally slots in the crook of your neck. And then you realize. He’s sleeping. Soap, who’s sitting on the opposite side of you gives you a cheeky smile.

“Not a word.” You hiss at him, rolling your eyes.

Simon was rarely vulnerable. It was never the time or the place, after all, he dedicated his whole life to being a soldier – resourceful, capable, and strong. There wasn’t any space for his feelings. But with you, he always felt accepted. Whenever he needed you were right there, with your familiar features, warm smile, and open arms. And each time Simon found himself snaking his arms around your torso, closing his eyes, and inhaling your smell he caught himself thinking only one thing.

“I love you.”

He lost count of the times when he opened his mouth to finally say it, only to close it mere seconds later, rethinking his decision completely. Next time. Next time he’ll tell you. But that next time never comes. So, Simon remains stuck in this endless cycle of fruitless attempts to bare his soul for you, only to lose his voice and fall silent, hoping you’ll connect the dots yourself. Still, he was happy to be in your arms. And happiness likes silence, after all. So maybe his lack of words was for the best.

God, how much he loves you. Simon would spend his whole life in your embrace if he could, not a worry in the world as he basks in your warmth, something he craved desperately for years now. Something that would probably fill this gaping hole in his chest after he lost so much. He didn’t like being this walking one-man pity party he felt he was sometimes, but you made it easier. Simon had no idea how you just wormed your way into his heart so swiftly, but he’d take it. Whatever it was about you, you were special to him, and he was not letting you go.

“Earth to Simon, you there?” You look up at him from the tight embrace he once again trapped you in while smoking on the balcony. The night was surprisingly cold, so instead of lending you his jacket, Simon just pulled you in for an embrace, telling you to clasp your arms behind his back. You enjoyed this alone time with him, and you prayed that he wouldn’t pick up on your staring. One of the few times when he finally takes off his damn mask, and you’re worried about him catching onto you looking. And how could you not? His eyes looked like boundless, hypnotizing abyss in the glow of a flickering lightbulb.

“Simon to Earth, how copy?” He smirks, noticing your prolonged stare, and you see the embers of mischief dancing in his irises. Now it was his turn to tease you. Bastard. He chuckles at the sight of you flustered.

“Oh, fuck off.” You let go of him, getting out of the warm hug and giving his chest a slight push. Simon should know better than to tease you. You immediately feel significantly colder than before, but instead of returning to his embrace, you shove your hands in the pockets of your trousers. His eyes flicker towards your huddled form, but he doesn’t say anything, once again.

Simon doesn’t say anything even when you’re laying on top of him, like a weighted blanket, making his mind wander in a sleepy daze. He drinks up every single detail in front of him, the way your eyelashes flutter, the warmth you’re radiating, or how your face is pressed against his chest. Simon is more than sure that if you were awake right now, you could hear how fast his heart beats for you. It’s embarrassing, really. But Simon just can’t help himself. So, he squeezes you even tighter with one arm, his fingers lingering on your hair with a feather-light touch.

Maybe…maybe right now is the time. You’re sleeping. You won’t hear him anyway and he’ll be able to get so much weight off his shoulders. Simon feels something inside his chest ache, a bittersweet feeling rolling on his tongue. He knew it was foolish, but he needed that. Simon could already feel his insides tossing and turning in this uncomfortable, anxious anticipation of…something. He wasn’t quite sure of what.

But it’s now or never. So, he cranes his neck slightly and his lips touch your forehead for a short second. The touch is intimate and bashful, but it sends euphoric butterflies right through his stomach, along with that sweet, tender ache in his chest.

“I love you” Simon manages to whisper, as he lays back down, trying not to disturb your sleep any more than he already has. A shaky breath escapes his lips. He did it. He actually did it. Simon closes his eyes with another exhale, not even catching the way a faint smile appears on your face.

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[urdreamydoodles]

Hello hello hello darling!!

How are you? Well,i hope?

Introducing myself,I am Nina or weewoo,self proclaimed platonic asker!!

I saw your requests for X-Men were open,so i jumped right in,as it's my current hyperfixation!! So here it is:

Could i pretty please have Wolverine,Scott,Jean,Kurt,Ororo,Remy,Anne-Marie,Hank,Kevin,Lucas,Charles and Erik with a Child!Gn!Reader (if you don't want to write a child!reader,an adult reader is fine!) that's literally a ball of sunshine,always being positive and able to light up a room,always being clingy- but after a really bad mission/day,they just- dim? They become a hollow version of themselves,becoming scared,silent and depressing,distancing themselves from the others and overall just being the opposite of what they were? And the X-men are just trying their best to cheer them back up and are just so relieved to see them slowly go back to normal? Just a little hurt/comfort :3

Anyways i hope you enjoy writing this ask!

Feel free to tweak it (if you don't write for certain characters,If you want to write for more/other characters etc..)!!

Don't forget to eat,drink and have breaks!

Stay Proud,

-Nina <33

X-Men x Child!Reader

You lose your zest for life after a traumatic event

After a traumatic mission, your usually bright and positive self becomes withdrawn and distant, leaving the X-Men concerned and heartbroken by the sudden change. Each mentor steps in to offer their unique form of support, helping you gradually return to your true self, offering a blend of quiet understanding, strength, and unwavering care.

Characters: Scott Summers, Logan Howlett, Jean Grey, Kurt Wagner, Ororo Munroe, Remy LeBeau, Rogue, Hank McCoy, Kevin MacTaggert, Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr & Lucas Bishop

Hello, Nina! What a lovely message you left me here ♡ It made my day. And this is the first time I've been asked for "obscure" characters and I'm so happy, I hope you like my take on them. As I said, I've read almost all of the X-Men comics, so don't be afraid to ask me your "obscure" character, I will gladly make them. And same, I think everyone has noticed that X-Men comics are my hyperfixation. Hope you like it ♡ — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

- Scott Summers has always been a strong, dependable presence in your life. You’ve always looked up to him, not just because of his leadership but because of the way he’s always made you feel safe. You’re the bright, cheerful kid who lights up the room when you walk in, and you’ve always been attached to Scott. He treats you like his own, encouraging your optimism, even when things get tough. You’re constantly clinging to him, whether it’s holding his hand or sitting next to him during training sessions.

- But after a particularly bad mission, something inside you changes. You’d witnessed something you shouldn’t have, something that shook your sense of safety and security. For the first time, you were scared. You pulled away from Scott, stopped seeking his comforting presence. You became a hollow version of yourself, quiet and withdrawn. Scott noticed immediately, his heart breaking every time he saw the light in your eyes dimmed. He tried talking to you, but you brushed him off, not wanting to burden him with your fears.

- Scott wasn’t about to give up on you. He knew what it was like to carry fear and trauma, and he wasn’t going to let you go through it alone. He’d sit beside you quietly, offering a hand that you didn’t take, but he never pressured you. He’d talk about his own struggles when he was younger, hoping that sharing his experiences would help you feel less alone. Slowly, he started to break through the walls you’d built around yourself. Little by little, you began to open up again, but it was a slow process.

- The turning point came one day when Scott took you out to the training field. He didn’t ask you to train or talk; he just stood with you in the quiet. After a long silence, you finally spoke up, telling him about the fear you’d been carrying. Scott listened intently, reassuring you that it was okay to be scared but that you didn’t have to carry it alone. His steady presence, the way he never wavered, slowly helped you regain your confidence. Over time, you started clinging to him again, your light slowly returning.

- Scott’s relief was palpable when he saw you smile for the first time in what felt like forever. He never stopped watching out for you, always ready to offer a hand or a kind word when you needed it. He knew that you’d never be the same as you were before, but he also knew that you were stronger for it. And he’d always be there, a guiding presence, whenever you needed him.

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

- Logan wasn’t exactly the warmest or most outwardly affectionate person, but somehow, you managed to break through his tough exterior. From the moment you arrived at the mansion, you’d latched onto him, following him around like a little shadow. You were this bright, positive ball of energy, always finding the silver lining in any situation. Logan would grumble about you being clingy, but deep down, he didn’t mind. In fact, he found himself getting used to your constant presence, and it brought a rare smile to his face.

- Then, one day, after a brutal mission, everything changed. Something happened out there—something that left you shaken to your core. You came back to the mansion a different person, quiet and distant, a shadow of the child you once were. You stopped seeking out Logan, stopped clinging to his side. You barely spoke, and when you did, it was just to say you were fine, even though Logan knew you weren’t. It was hard for him to see you like that, and it tore him apart inside.

- Logan didn’t know how to handle it at first. He wasn’t good with feelings, and he didn’t want to push you, but seeing you so hollow hurt him more than he’d care to admit. He’d sit outside your room sometimes, just to be close to you, hoping you’d open the door. He tried to give you space but also wanted you to know that he was there. One day, after you’d been sitting alone for hours, Logan finally came into your room without a word, sat down beside you, and just waited. You didn’t speak, but his presence was comforting, like an anchor in a storm.

- Slowly, Logan started taking you out on little trips—nothing fancy, just walks in the woods or quiet moments by the lake. He knew the outdoors had always helped him clear his head, and he hoped it would do the same for you. It took a while, but you eventually started talking again, first in short sentences, then longer conversations. You told Logan about the fear you couldn’t shake, about how the mission had changed how you saw the world. Logan listened, not offering advice, just being there for you.

- Over time, you started to come back to yourself. You clung to Logan again, and even though he grumbled about it, he didn’t push you away. The first time you laughed after the incident, Logan let out a relieved breath he didn’t know he was holding. He wasn’t the best at showing emotion, but you knew he cared. And in his own gruff way, Logan made sure you knew that no matter what, he’d always be there for you, protecting you from the world—and sometimes, from yourself.

Jean Grey (Phoenix)

- Jean Grey was the one you always went to when you needed comfort. She was warm, nurturing, and could always make you feel safe, no matter what was going on around you. You adored her, always hanging around her, basking in her presence like a little ray of sunshine. She never minded how clingy you were—in fact, she found it endearing. You were her little bright spot in a world that often felt heavy, and she cherished every moment with you.

- But one day, after a particularly intense mission, everything changed. Something happened out there—something that shook you to your core. When you came back, the light in you had dimmed. You didn’t seek out Jean like you usually did. You didn’t smile or talk as much, and when you did, it was clear that you were trying to hide your fear and sadness. Jean noticed immediately and was heartbroken to see you so withdrawn.

- Jean didn’t push you, but she made sure you knew she was there. She’d gently knock on your door, leaving little notes or snacks she knew you liked. She’d find subtle ways to be around you, like sitting quietly in the same room while you read or worked on something. It was her way of reminding you that you weren’t alone, even if you didn’t want to talk about what had happened yet.

- One evening, Jean invited you to the rooftop garden, a place that had always been special to both of you. You hesitated at first, but eventually, you agreed. As you both sat under the stars, Jean spoke softly about her own struggles with fear and trauma, telling you stories of times when she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. She wasn’t trying to make you feel better by comparing your pain to hers; she just wanted you to know that it was okay to be scared, that it was okay to feel overwhelmed.

- Slowly, with Jean’s gentle care and understanding, you began to open up again. It wasn’t an overnight change, but little by little, the light in you started to return. Jean was patient, never rushing you, always offering a kind word or a soft hug when you needed it. She was so relieved the day she saw you smile again—really smile, not just out of politeness. Jean knew you would never be exactly the same as you were before, but she was proud of how strong you’d become. And she promised herself that she’d always be there to help you find your light again, no matter how many times it dimmed.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

- Kurt Wagner, with his kind heart and unwavering faith, had always been like a father figure to you. From the moment you arrived at Xavier’s, he took you under his wing. You, the ever-cheerful ball of sunshine, found his gentle nature comforting, and you admired his ability to remain positive despite everything he had gone through. You’d often cling to his side, your laughter echoing through the mansion as you teleported around with him or listened to his stories about his life in the circus.

- After a particularly difficult mission, however, everything changed. You had seen things that no child should ever witness—things that tore away at your innocence and light. You returned to the mansion quiet, no longer the beacon of joy you once were. You distanced yourself from Kurt, spending more time alone in your room, and when he tried to comfort you, you’d give him half-hearted smiles, pretending everything was fine. Kurt knew better, though. The light in your eyes had dimmed, and it broke his heart to see you retreating into yourself.

- Kurt, being as patient and understanding as ever, didn’t push you. He respected your space but never let you feel abandoned. He would often leave little drawings and notes for you to find, hoping to coax a smile out of you. One evening, as you sat alone in the chapel, lost in thought, Kurt quietly joined you. He didn’t say anything at first—he just sat beside you, offering his silent presence as comfort. Eventually, he began talking about his own struggles with darkness, reminding you that it was okay to feel scared and lost but that you didn’t have to go through it alone.

- Slowly but surely, Kurt’s unwavering kindness and gentle patience began to reach you. He never demanded that you return to your old self but instead encouraged you to take things one step at a time. He took you on small trips around the mansion, teleporting you to peaceful spots in the garden or the attic, where you could talk if you wanted or just sit in silence. With each little outing, you felt a small part of yourself begin to heal, the weight of what you’d seen slowly lifting.

- The first time you laughed again in Kurt’s presence, he nearly cried with relief. It wasn’t the carefree laugh he was used to, but it was a start. Over time, you began to cling to him again, seeking his presence when you needed comfort, and while you weren’t the same person you were before, you were stronger. Kurt made sure to remind you every day that no matter what, he would always be there for you, a guiding light in the darkness whenever you needed him.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

- Ororo Munroe, with her serene presence and deep connection to nature, had always been like a mother to you. You admired her strength, her compassion, and the way she carried herself with grace despite the storms she had weathered in life. You, with your bright personality and endless energy, often found yourself attached to Ororo’s side, soaking up her wisdom and calm demeanor. She adored your optimism and always took the time to nurture your cheerful spirit.

- But after a harrowing mission that rattled you to your core, the light inside you dimmed. You had witnessed something that no child should ever see, and it changed you. You became quiet, withdrawn, and stopped seeking Ororo’s calming presence like you once did. You no longer smiled or laughed as you once had, and Ororo could see the pain in your eyes. She didn’t push you, but the change in you weighed heavily on her heart. She knew something was wrong, but she waited for you to come to her when you were ready.

- Ororo, with her natural maternal instincts, made sure you never felt alone, even as you distanced yourself. She would leave flowers by your bedside, small tokens of beauty and life, hoping to lift your spirits. One afternoon, when you were particularly down, she invited you to the greenhouse, knowing how much you had always loved spending time with the plants. At first, you were hesitant, but Ororo’s gentle encouragement convinced you to go. The peaceful atmosphere and Ororo’s quiet presence made it easier for you to open up, and little by little, you began to talk about what was troubling you.

- Ororo listened with endless patience as you finally shared your fears and the things that haunted you. She didn’t try to force positivity on you; instead, she acknowledged your pain and assured you that it was okay to feel the way you did. She reminded you that even the sun needs time to rise after a storm and that, like nature, you would heal at your own pace. Her words comforted you more than anything, and you found solace in her gentle wisdom.

- Slowly, over time, you began to recover. Ororo took you on small walks through the gardens, showing you how the flowers bloomed even after the harshest winters. Her presence was a constant source of comfort, and she never left your side, encouraging you to take things one day at a time. The first time you smiled again, Ororo felt a wave of relief wash over her. You were healing, and while you weren’t the same child you were before, you had grown stronger. Ororo made sure to remind you every day that, like the weather, you could weather any storm with time and support.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

- Remy LeBeau, with his smooth charm and playful nature, was someone you had always looked up to. He treated you like his little shadow, always making time for your endless energy and positivity. You adored him, clinging to his side during missions or downtime, laughing at his jokes even when they weren’t that funny. Remy loved the light you brought into his life, and he always made sure to keep that spark alive, teaching you card tricks and letting you tag along on adventures.

- But after a mission gone wrong, the light in you dimmed. You had seen something that no child should have to witness, and it shook you to your core. When you returned to the mansion, you were no longer the bright, bubbly child you had been. You avoided Remy, retreating into yourself and becoming a quiet, hollow version of who you once were. Remy noticed immediately, and it worried him deeply. He tried to coax you out of your shell with jokes and games, but nothing seemed to work.

- Remy wasn’t the type to give up easily, though. He knew you were hurting, and while he didn’t want to push you, he also didn’t want to let you carry that burden alone. He started leaving little notes and gifts in your room, hoping to make you smile. One day, when you were sitting alone in the mansion’s common room, Remy sat down beside you, quietly shuffling his deck of cards. He didn’t say anything, just sat with you, offering his silent presence. Slowly, the two of you began to talk, and Remy listened as you finally opened up about what had been bothering you.

- Remy was patient as you worked through your feelings, never once rushing you to be “your old self” again. He shared stories of his own troubled past, reminding you that even the brightest lights can flicker sometimes. He encouraged you to take things one day at a time and reassured you that it was okay to feel sad and scared. With Remy’s gentle guidance, you began to feel a little more like yourself each day.

- The first time you laughed at one of Remy’s jokes again, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. It wasn’t the carefree laugh he was used to, but it was a start. Slowly but surely, you began to cling to him again, seeking out his presence for comfort. While you weren’t the same child you were before, you were stronger, and Remy made sure you knew that no matter what, he would always be there to help you find your way back to the light.

Rogue (Anna Marie)

- Rogue had always been your big sister figure, and you admired her so much. She had her own struggles with her powers, but you never once saw her let it dampen her spirit. Her tough love and protective nature made you feel safe, and your bright and bubbly personality often drew her into fits of laughter when the two of you hung out. She’d ruffle your hair and joke about how you could probably light up the whole mansion with your smile. Rogue was always there for you, and you adored her for it.

- One day, after a mission that went horribly wrong, you returned to the mansion feeling completely shattered. You had seen something that no child should ever have to see, and it left you feeling broken inside. Your once vibrant and clingy self faded into the background, and you withdrew from everyone, even Rogue. You avoided her, choosing instead to lock yourself away in your room, barely eating or speaking to anyone. Rogue knew something was wrong, and it broke her heart to see you retreat into yourself.

- Rogue wasn’t the type to let anyone suffer alone, though, especially not someone as close to her as you. She tried giving you space at first, but when it became clear that you weren’t coming to her, she decided to come to you. She knocked softly on your door one afternoon, waiting for you to let her in. When you didn’t respond, she simply sat outside your room and began talking to you, her voice gentle and filled with care. She didn’t push you to open up right away, but she reminded you that she was there, whenever you were ready.

- It took a while, but eventually, you came out of your room and found Rogue sitting on the porch, watching the sunset. You sat beside her quietly, and for a long time, neither of you said anything. Then, with a shaky voice, you started to tell her about what had happened during the mission, how it had affected you, and how you didn’t know how to deal with it. Rogue listened intently, her usual sass replaced with a quiet understanding. She wrapped an arm around you, careful with her touch, and pulled you close. “You ain’t gotta deal with it alone, sugar,” she said softly. “I’m here, and I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

- Rogue didn’t expect you to bounce back overnight, but she made sure you knew she had your back. She’d drag you out of bed on particularly bad days, forcing you to come on walks with her or just sit in the sun. Slowly but surely, you started to feel a little more like yourself. The first time you cracked a joke, Rogue’s grin was so wide it made your heart swell. You weren’t completely back to your old self, but Rogue never rushed you. She was just happy to see that spark returning, even if it took time. You knew with Rogue by your side, you’d find your way back to the light.

Hank McCoy (Beast)

- Hank McCoy was a father figure to you in every sense of the word. His intelligence, kindness, and calm demeanor made you feel safe, and you always loved spending time in his lab, watching him work. Your bubbly and energetic personality balanced out his more serious side, and he often said you were like a ray of sunshine that could brighten even the darkest of days. You adored him, following him around and asking endless questions about science and the world, to which he would always give thoughtful and detailed answers.

- But after a traumatic mission that left you shaken, your once-bright personality faded. The light inside you dimmed, and you found yourself retreating into the shadows. You stopped visiting Hank in his lab, stopped asking him questions, and started spending more time alone, lost in your own thoughts. You didn’t want to burden him with your problems, so you kept everything inside, but Hank noticed immediately. It hurt him to see you withdraw, and he knew something was wrong.

- Hank, ever the patient and understanding mentor, gave you space but never let you feel alone. He would leave small notes in the places he knew you frequented, little reminders that he was there if you needed him. One day, when you hadn’t come to the lab in weeks, he knocked on your door. You were curled up in bed, barely acknowledging his presence. He sat down beside you, his large, gentle hand resting on your shoulder. “You don’t have to talk if you’re not ready,” he said quietly. “But know that I’m here, always.”

- Eventually, you did open up to him, telling him about the horrors you had witnessed during the mission and how it had changed you. Hank listened with the utmost care, his heart aching for you. He didn’t try to fix everything right away, but instead, he reminded you that it was okay to feel lost and scared. He shared his own struggles with you, times when he had felt out of control or burdened by his powers. His empathy and understanding helped you feel less alone, and little by little, you started to find your way back to yourself.

- Hank knew it would take time for you to fully recover, but he was endlessly patient. He’d invite you to the lab again, not to work but just to be in each other’s company, and he would leave little experiments for you to do whenever you felt ready. The first time you smiled while working on a project, Hank felt an immense sense of relief. You were healing, and while you might not be the same child you were before, Hank was proud of your strength. He made sure you knew that no matter what, he would always be there for you, guiding you back to the light whenever you needed it.

Kevin MacTaggert (Proteus)

- Kevin MacTaggert, or Proteus, was a complicated figure in your life. Despite his dark history and unstable powers, there was a part of him that cared deeply for you. You, with your infectious positivity and boundless energy, had managed to form a bond with him, one that even he didn’t fully understand. You saw the good in him, even when he couldn’t see it in himself. Kevin often kept his distance from others, but with you, he allowed himself to be a little softer, a little more vulnerable. You clung to him, always finding ways to make him smile, even if it was just for a brief moment.

- But after witnessing something truly horrifying during a mission, you changed. The light inside you dimmed, and you no longer sought out Kevin’s presence like you used to. You became quiet, withdrawn, and scared. Kevin, who had always been sensitive to the emotions of those around him, noticed the shift immediately. It unsettled him to see you like this, and he didn’t know how to handle it at first. He wasn’t used to caring for others, but seeing you suffer made him feel something unfamiliar—concern.

- Kevin wasn’t the type to offer comfort easily, but he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. He sought you out one day, finding you sitting alone in the mansion’s courtyard. He didn’t say much at first, just sat beside you, his presence enough to let you know he was there. After a while, he quietly asked what had happened, and for the first time since the mission, you opened up about the trauma you had experienced. Kevin listened intently, his usual sharp demeanor replaced with quiet understanding.

- He didn’t know how to fix what you were feeling, but he knew he didn’t want to see you in pain. Kevin began spending more time with you, trying to coax you back to your old self in his own way. He wasn’t great at emotional support, but he’d distract you with stories or small adventures around the mansion. You slowly began to open up again, and while Kevin wasn’t the warmest figure in your life, his presence was comforting. He didn’t push you to be happy, but he made sure you knew he was there, in his own quiet, protective way.

- Over time, you started to feel a little more like yourself. You weren’t the same child you were before, but you had grown stronger. Kevin, in his own way, had helped you heal, and you could see that even he had changed a little, softening around the edges. The first time you smiled again, Kevin gave a rare, genuine smile of his own. You were healing, and though the journey was long, you knew that with Kevin’s quiet support, you’d find your way back to the light.

Charles Xavier (Professor X)

- Charles Xavier had always been a guiding figure in your life. He was more than just the head of the school; he was like a father to you, someone you could look up to and trust. Your boundless positivity and energy were a constant source of joy for him, and he often said that your presence alone could brighten his day, even when things were difficult. You clung to Charles, always seeking his advice or simply spending time with him, knowing that he understood you in ways few others could.

- But after a particularly harrowing mission, something inside you broke. You weren’t your usual self, no longer the bright and happy child everyone knew. The trauma of what you had seen had dimmed your light, and you withdrew from everyone, including Charles. You stopped seeking his guidance, and instead, you stayed silent, choosing to avoid him altogether. It pained him to see you like this, but he respected your space, understanding that healing took time.

- Charles didn’t push you to open up, but he was always there, silently offering his support. His telepathic abilities allowed him to sense the depth of your pain, but he never intruded on your thoughts. He waited patiently, hoping that one day, you would come to him when you were ready. In the meantime, he left small reminders around the mansion—a favorite book, a handwritten note—letting you know that he hadn’t forgotten about you.

- It wasn’t until you broke down one evening, unable to contain the weight of your emotions any longer, that you finally came to him. You found Charles sitting in his study, and without saying a word, you collapsed into his arms, tears streaming down your face. He held you gently, his presence calm and reassuring. He didn’t ask for an explanation, knowing that you would speak when you were ready. “I’m here, always,” he whispered, his voice steady and full of compassion.

- Over the next few weeks, Charles made it his mission to help you heal, guiding you through meditation and mindfulness techniques that would allow you to process your trauma. He never rushed you, never expected you to be your old self right away. Slowly, you began to come out of your shell again, finding comfort in his wisdom and kindness. The first time you laughed again, Charles smiled, his heart swelling with relief. You weren’t fully back to your sunny self, but with Charles by your side, you knew you would find your way back to the light, in time.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

- Erik Lehnsherr wasn’t the warmest of mentors, but he had always taken a special interest in you. There was something about your bright personality that intrigued him, something about the way you could remain so positive in a world that was often so cruel. You admired Erik for his strength and conviction, and despite his often stern demeanor, you knew he cared about you deeply. He was like a father to you, though he’d never say it out loud. You often joked that you were the sunshine to his storm, a balance of opposites that somehow worked.

- After a mission that went horribly wrong, you weren’t the same. The bright, bubbly child that had once brought so much light into Erik’s life was gone, replaced by someone who was quiet, withdrawn, and afraid. You couldn’t shake the horrors you had witnessed, and you distanced yourself from everyone, including Erik. You stopped seeking him out, choosing instead to hide away, not wanting to burden him with your pain. Erik, however, noticed immediately. He wasn’t the most emotionally expressive man, but it hurt him to see you suffering in silence.

- Erik didn’t push you to talk about what had happened, but he kept a close eye on you, watching from a distance. He understood trauma in ways that most couldn’t, and while he respected your need for space, he also knew that you couldn’t go through this alone. One evening, he found you sitting by the window, staring out at the night sky, lost in your thoughts. Without a word, he sat beside you, the silence between you heavy but comforting in its own way.

- After a long stretch of quiet, you finally opened up to Erik, telling him about the mission and how it had changed you. Erik listened carefully, his usual sharpness replaced with a rare gentleness. He didn’t offer you platitudes or try to diminish your pain. Instead, he shared his own experiences, his own struggles with the darkness that often consumed him. “We all have our demons,” he said quietly. “But you don’t have to face them alone.”

- Erik’s approach to helping you heal was different from others. He didn’t coddle you, but he was always there, offering his strength when you needed it. Slowly, with his guidance, you began to find your way back to yourself. The first time you smiled again, Erik gave a small, almost imperceptible smile of his own. You weren’t completely back to the bright, sunny child you had been before, but with Erik by your side, you knew you’d find your way back to the light, even if it took time.

Lucas Bishop

- Bishop had always been more of a protector than anything else. He admired your optimism and saw in you a kind of light that was rare in his world of war and survival. To him, you were a reminder of the peace he fought so hard to protect, and despite his often stoic nature, he grew deeply attached to you. You, in turn, saw Bishop as a big brother, someone who would always keep you safe, no matter what. You often followed him around, your endless curiosity and bright energy a stark contrast to his serious demeanor.

- But after a particularly brutal mission, everything changed. You weren’t the same bright and positive child that had once been a beacon of light in Bishop’s life. The trauma of what you had witnessed left you hollow, and you withdrew into yourself, barely speaking or acknowledging anyone. You stopped following Bishop around, stopped asking him questions, and instead, you stayed in your room, avoiding everyone. Bishop noticed immediately and, while he respected your space, it tore him apart to see you like this.

- Bishop wasn’t one to talk about emotions, but he wasn’t going to let you suffer in silence either. He didn’t force you to talk about what had happened, but he made sure you knew he was there, whenever you were ready. One evening, he found you sitting alone in the mansion’s training room, staring blankly at the ground. Without saying a word, he sat down beside you, his presence steady and reassuring. You didn’t speak at first, but eventually, the silence between you became too much to bear, and you began to tell him about the mission, about how it had changed you.

- Bishop listened with the same intensity he brought to every mission, his focus entirely on you. When you finished, he didn’t try to fix things or offer you easy solutions. Instead, he put a hand on your shoulder and said, “You’re not alone in this. I’ve been through it too, and I’m here for you.” His words, simple as they were, carried a weight that made you feel less alone. Bishop had seen horrors too, and knowing that he understood made it easier for you to start healing.

- Over the next few weeks, Bishop kept a close eye on you, making sure you didn’t retreat too far into yourself. He didn’t push you to be your old self right away, but he did encourage you to get back into a routine, to start training again, even if it was just for a few minutes a day. Slowly, you began to regain your strength, and while you weren’t the same bright child you had been before, you felt a little more like yourself each day. The first time you cracked a joke in Bishop’s presence, he gave a rare smile, a small but significant sign that you were on your way back to the light.

[azsazz]

Dead by Dawn (Part 17)

Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.

Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, poly!relationship, slow burn, undead, death,

Word Count: 3058

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16)

Notes: heyyyy what do you know, i found it in me to get this part out. im proud.

_________________________________________

Day 195 Part 3

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You never been one to throw caution to the wind, but with what sits before you, the urge is strong.

Animals were one of the first things to go when disease swept across the world, which is why it’s so difficult not to pick up the juicy chicken breast that’s steaming on the plate in front of you, and completely ravage it.

Your mouth waters at the sight. There are greens, too. A blend of spinach and vegetables cooked to perfection in animal fat. It’s the first real meal you’ve seen in…fuck you don’t even know how long it’s been since you’ve seen real meat like this, nor food that wasn’t expired and from a can.

The only thing keeping your restraint in place is your companions' determination. The sprinkle of common sense that hasn’t fizzled into a ravenous beast at the scent of your meal is easy to overlook, but Azriel’s menacing presence beside you isn’t. His back is ramrod straight in his own seat, and the food doesn’t seem to be affecting him in the slightest. He’s undeterred by their taunts. Instead, his woody eyes drink in your surroundings for the umpteenth time, as if there might be a hint as to what’s really going on here. 

On your other side, you’re flanked by Cassian, who does look like he’s struggling to keep himself from sinking his teeth into the juicy thigh on his plate, however little it might be. It’s more than he’s had to eat in days, months, and he wants it so fucking badly.

In fact, no one’s touching their food, which is a red flag of itself, but your head is swimming at the smells, your stomach a mess of knots that loosen at the idea of food, and tighten at the thought of where your best friend could be.

You’re also a little afraid, if you’re being honest, of getting sick should you eat something this…real after having gone so long without.

Nesta watches you from across the table with a piercing stare. There’s a malice you’ve become accustomed to being fed in the little time you’ve known her. You understand that she’s worried for her sister, out there with little protection, but you’re worried too. You feel as if Feyre is your sister as well. You’ve been winning your own little war against the undead for too long to remember.

At her side is who you can only decern to be her lover, Eris. You ponder their relationship, what you saw in the woods. Perhaps they’re nothing more than companions, but with the way the auburn-haired man keeps stealing glances at her, worry etched in his brow, you know there must be more.

The chair beside Eris is filled with a near clone of him. They have twin eyes and looks of caution on their fox-shaped faces. The unnamed man wears his hair long down his back, a single braid hangs down the side of his face. It’s not a nice one, practiced, but messy, like whoever put it there was distracted more often than not during styling. The only differentiator is the color of their skin, because even the shape of their eyes and their stature is eerily similar. It’s clear that they are nothing like their scumbag of a father, and the thought of Beron alone makes you shiver in your seat.

There’s an empty seat beside him, and you can’t help the stab of guilt you feel at the sight of it. You don’t know if they’ve lost someone important to their little unit they have going on here, or if there’s a reason for the unoccupied seat.

Cassian’s stomach growls loudly, breaking the terse silence. 

“Everything is safe to eat, I can assure you,” Eris mentions after clearing his throat. Nesta shoots him a look that could make even a zombie cower, but he must be used to it because he takes the betraying look with grace, gently settling a palm onto her lap.

Nesta doesn’t shove it away like you expect her to. Instead, her lips go razor thin. The pair stare at each other so intensely that you feel like you’re intruding on something monumental.

Eventually, Nesta breaks. With a sharp inhalation, she turns her gaze to you. She doesn’t look happy, but at least she doesn’t look like she wants to reach across the table and maul you for losing her sister.

“Eat,” she all but demands. She cringes, grits her teeth, and adds like the words are truly poison in her mouth, “Please.”

“You’ll excuse us if we don’t trust you,” Azriel replies curtly. Your eyes soften as they land on him, even if his gaze is trained on your hosts. Weeks ago, he’d been wary of you, and now he’s here protecting you from the outsiders that are holding you captive.

You’ve never been so thankful for him, and you remind yourself to thank him for it later.

“Don’t eat, then.” Nesta shrugs as if his words don’t bother her in the slightest. Your whereabouts of Feyre seem to have caught her off guard because right now she is the perfect poise of excellence. Her nature could give any queen a run for their crown.

She’s the first one to dig into her meal. She uses the cutlery as if they’re weapons, tearing into the meat with a force that has you praying to any higher being that Feyre and Rhys are on their way to you, because you do not want to be on the other end of Nesta’s knife.

Your eyes flicker back down to your plate, to the shiny silverware placed on either side of your plate. Hell, you’re not even sure you remember how to use them anymore, with how long you’ve had to make do on the road.

“Please, eat,” Eris counters with a stern look that doesn’t affect Nesta in the slightest. Eris motions to his brother and they both pick up their forks, as if trying to show you everything is okay.

“I don’t trust the animals, either,” Azriel responds.

“How about the vegetables, then?” Eris offers, and you think you catch a glint of pleading in his amber eyes. You think he’s trying to keep things civil and calm for Nesta’s sake. You’re sure she’s worried to pieces about her littlest sister out there when the sun is so close to hiding away for another night of hell. “The animals are perfectly healthy, though I assure you the food will not go to waste if you don’t eat it.”

“How are they safe?” Cassian questions, grimacing down at the meat. You know that he out of everyone in your little group needs it the most. You’ve seen his protruding ribs only yesterday, and with him being the biggest in your group, he needs the nutrients more than anyone.

A sudden urge of protectiveness washes over you. You want him safe and healthy, want both him and Azriel safe and happy, and you wish more than anything that you could give it to them.

Only time will tell.

Eris gives a very diplomatic response. “My family has owned this land for generations,” he starts, and you don’t like to think of how he is Beron’s son. It makes all of the desperation to eat, subside. “We have been raising and breeding our own meat and dairy for just as long. They have never showed signs of disease, but perhaps it’s because they live a life unknowing of what goes on in this world.” You’re not following, but Eris continues before your confusion causes you to blurt out questions.

“My brother—Lucien,” he nods toward his brother beside him. “Takes care of them. When our father first heard the mumblings of a pandemic so devastating, the world as we knew it would never be the same, he built a bunker of sorts, where we continue to monitor and raise our animals to this day.”

“That was about the only smart thing he ever did,” Lucien mumbles, looking green at the mention of his father.

You get the feeling.

Azriel says, “Yeah, we’ve had the unfortunate displeasure of meeting the bastard.”

Lucien’s utensils fall to the table with a clang that startles you in your seat. He looks sick to his stomach, his ying-yang eyes drawn down to his plate in shame. His shoulders are stiff and he’s gone so still you think he might be comatose, turning into a zombie right in front of your very eyes.

“You’ve met him?” Lucien asks, and he sounds like a little boy, reliving a trauma so ghastly that it’s altered his brain chemistry.

“Met him, killed him,” Azriel shrugs as if it was no big feat. Your stomach roils at the memory and you must look paler than normal because Cassian’s placing a. warm hand over yours in comfort. Azriel’s brashness isn’t new to you, but the reminder is too fresh. You try to focus on your hand in Cassian’s, offering him a weak smile.

The tension in the air seems to disperse with Azriel’s words. You’re pretty sure you see Lucien’s shoulders physically drop in relief, like he feels the same way you do about his father. Eris sits in his seat, stunned, but he doesn’t look upset about the news, he looks more disappointed, like he missed out on being the one to kill the crazy cannibal.

“Well, I think this calls for the good wine,” Nesta says, and you swear you see the corners of her mouth threaten to tug into a satisfied smirk.

She glances at you from across the table, and you pick up your fork.

You hope that this is the first of many things that you will agree with her on.

There is little conversation while you eat. Azriel’s brows are drawn in tight, and his mouth is set in a hard line. He keeps glancing over at you with a scolding heat in his eyes, but there’s a sliver of worry that makes you ache, like he thinks you might keel over from the chicken.

If you do, you’re not even sure you’ll be mad. It’s good fucking chicken.

You try to savor it, to eat slowly so that your body doesn’t reject the first real meal you’ve had in forever, but you can hardly control yourself. You feel like a rabid animal, hungry enough to gnaw your own arm off. You wonder if this is what the zombies outside feel like, an insatiable hunger, or if they’re so mindless they don’t feel anything at all.

You reckon you have only minutes before the food makes its reappearance, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when you slide your silverware onto your empty plate, trying to deter yourself from leaning forward and licking it clean.

Cassian has no such reservations.

“How long has it been since you’ve tried to contact my sister?” Nesta asks when the three of you have finished. Even Azriel couldn’t help but clear his plate, though he did take the longest of the three of you, more than mindful of your captors.

It makes your heart swell that he has kept an eye out for you and Cassian.

Azriel and Cassian share a look over your head, debating how much to indulge. But this is Feyre’s sister, and they want to find her and Rhys just as much, so they relent.

“We tried getting through to them this afternoon, before we ran into you,” Cassian explains. “They were too far out of range.”

“Call them again,” she demands, and Eris opens his mouth to protest but Nesta is clearly done with niceties. “No,” she snaps at the man beside her. “We have given them a place to stay and a warm meal. It’s time for them to do something in return.”

You don’t mention how you didn’t have a choice but to be here, and that they wouldn’t have had to give up their food if you were still wandering out in the woods, but your stomach is too full to argue that point.

Cassian tugs the walkie-talkie from his pocket and switches it on. The static is loud, and you all wait in anticipation until the signal calms a bit before he clicks the button on the side and makes the call. “Rhys? Feyre? Are you out there?”

It’s like waiting for a cure as the six of you listen to the channel. Nothing comes through, and Cassian calls again, to no avail.

“We’ll keep trying,” he says, a determined look in his eye. You’re pretty sure that’s the only thing keeping Nesta in her seat, because she looks like she will reach across the table and stab you with her knife.

Movement in the corner of your eye makes you flinch. Cassian’s arm reaches out to block you and Azriel’s already halfway out of his seat, ready to tear you away from the threat that stumbles into the doorway.

The threat comes in the form of what must be Feyre’s other sister, Elain. She looks ghastly, skin as white as sheet, and as well-fed as Eris’ claims them to be, she’s all skin and bones. Her brown eyes are dull and sunken, purple-rimmed as if she hasn’t had a peaceful night of sleep in years. Her blonde-brown hair sits limp on her head, knotted at the back, as if she’s been drained of all of the health in her life.

She looks like a zombie.

Nesta jumps from her chair at the same time Lucien does, the both of them rushing for Elain. Lucien gets to her first, catching her just as her knees give out and scooping her into his arms. Her head lolls against his chest as if the effort to keep it upright is a burden too much, but her dazed gaze sharpens when it lands on you.

You’re frozen in your seat. You have no words for what you’re seeing, the sickly girl who looks closer to death than a zombie. Your heart pounds a thousand miles a minute in your chest, and your fingers are white-knuckled with confusion and fear where they’re wrapped around Cassian’s forearm.

Elain’s brown eyes widen in a way that looks unnatural for her once beautiful face. Her cracked lips form husky words that are so ominous it has the hair on your body standing on end.

“Twin ravens are coming, one white and one black. One has an injured wing.”

Lucien hushes her softly, murmuring to her as he removes her from the room. “Shh, Elain. Let’s get you back to bed, petal. You shouldn’t be expending so much energy until you’re feeling better.”

Guilt stabs you a thousand times over as he takes her away. It doesn’t take long for you to connect the dots with what you’ve seen. How sickly she looks, the faraway look and ramblings that don’t make sense.

“When did it happen?” You blurt, eyes darting from a stoney-faced Nesta to a grimacing Eris to the door Lucien and Elain disappeared through. You don’t like the feeling that overcomes you, the one that wants you to get the fuck out of here as quickly as possible.

Something isn’t right here.

“It’s late,” Nesta states, looking between the three of you like she’s deciding how she’s going to kill each of you. You suppose she might, if she feels any sort of threat to her sister. For now, she needs you alive, if only to help find her other sister. She won’t dump any of you out yet, unless you can’t prove your worth.

Not unless Feyre is dead.

Azriel tucks you carefully behind him, more than aware of the threat before you. You can tell that he’s just as confused as you are. There’s a tightness to his shoulders that you don’t like, an edge to the strain of his body that screams danger.

His mouth opens to speak, but he’s cut off by the sudden voice that comes over the walkie-talkie.

“Cassian? Azriel? Do you copy?” Rhys’ panicked voice sounds through the machine. More than one emotion threatens to consume you, relief and worry. The full meal in your belly swarms like crashing waves, and you might just throw up after all.

Cassian, Azriel, and Nesta all lunge for the radio. Eris gets his hand around Nesta’s bicep and pulls her away, much to her reluctance. She claws against him but he’s only keeping her away from the three of you, still very much a threat.

Not that you’d be of any assistance should either party try to attack. You’ve collapsed in the closest chair.

“Rhys?” Cassian calls back, just as frantic. His terrified hazel eyes are locked with Azriel’s, and it’s all the black-haired boy can do to console Cassian with a reassuring hand to his shoulder. “Can you hear me? Where the fuck are you?”

It wouldn’t mean much to Nesta, who’s given up her struggling to listen into what’s happening, but to Cassian, you know the touch means everything.

Anticipation skyrockets throughout the room, bringing the temperature up to boiling as you await his response. Each second feels like an eternity, and you’re sure the vein throbbing on Nesta’s forehead is about to explode when Rhysand finally responds.

It sounds like he’s running. You pray that’s not a groan of the undead you hear in the background. “Fuck,” he curses in such a hopeless way that makes your heart drop to the floor. Whatever he’s about to say, it’s not going to be good. “I need you to come find us. I don’t know where the fuck we are, but we need help.”

Azriel rips the walkie-talkie from Cassian’s hand, ready to take the lead. He pockets one of the knives at the table and you can’t even muster the energy to joke about how a butterknife won’t be the best weapon against a horde of zombies because you’re more than ready to follow him into the fray, sans weapons, if all to save your friends.

“Where are you, Rhys? I need landmarks.”

 “Az,” Rhys breathes, but he doesn’t sound relieved. In fact, he sounds spent, and there’s no sign of Feyre on the other line. “We need help. Badly. Feyre’s been bitten.”

And hey, your dinner does make its reappearance after all.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

DBD Taglist: @writingsbychlo @kemillyfreitas @5moremin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @waggel36  @bionic-donut @queserasera @applepie02  @azrielsbabyg  @arcadianmoonlight  @pradaxstyles  @illyrian-dreamerdreamer @reiincarnatiion  @fuckthatfeeling  @shadowsingersmate24 @poppyalice2001  @fallmyriad  @sstrohma  @tcris2020 @jeannineee  @21stcenturytaegi @ochiolism @secretly-here @harrystylesfan2686 @i-am-infinite @lees-chaotic-brain @eternallyelvish @lilah-asteria @randombibitch @st4r-girl-official @nanisearchinginnerpeace (i hope you see this idk if this tag worked 😭)

IDK if any of these tags are going to work but someone plz lmk 💙

[theinkquiry]

i've been looking at you so long now i only see me caleb x reader (mc)

word count: 4.5k tags: Alternative Ending to Homecoming Wings, Because we couldn't just let it end like that! “You can’t protect me forever.” You reached up with your free hand to cup his face. This was the closest you’ve really gotten to seeing him since he’s come back to you. He leans into your touch. “I can and I will.” He speaks with such conviction. The tone is familiar even if the empty stare accompanying his words is not. “But you didn’t." Things come to a head on your last day in Skyhaven. This wasn't the Caleb you knew. You weren't the same girl he left behind. You still love him anyway. (homecoming wings and it's completely different but also still homecoming wings.)

ao3 link (also in the fic title): https://archiveofourown.org/works/63833728

Three days. He said it like it was no time at all, but it was long enough to make you begin questioning your sanity. To say you were traumatized all over again by the sudden appearance of Caleb with the Farspace Fleet was an understatement. You pushed the initial concerns aside. He was here, alive. That was all that mattered, or so you thought. 

The routine was too typical. Too easy. You never dared let yourself imagine what it would be like to have him breathing in front of you again. But of all the possibilities you could have conjured, to simply keep carrying on was not one of them. Carrying on was what you did when he left. It wasn’t how he was supposed to come back to you. 

You didn’t even know if he was supposed to come back to you.

He had you down against the couch after three days of unending rain. Your petulant nature once again gets you into hot waters with him. You were pushing the same buttons, but the commands were not the same. His words simmer with a cold flame. 

“No one will ever be able to find you ever again. I’ll protect you forever.”

There it was again. His unending need to shield you from all the world’s harms. It was touching when you were children. Romantic, even. Growing up, you slowly lost the concept of what it felt like to be truly afraid. There were the thunderstorms and the usual mean kids on the block. You were comforted by the notion that Caleb would always be there. That you would never be alone, just like he promised. 

But now your heart thundered in your chest as your eyes stared into his. The purple-grey storm brewing behind his gaze pinned you down like nothing you’ve ever felt before. There was a gnawing sensation that you didn’t want to admit, a fear whose source you dare not name. 

What if I told you I was always like this?

Since he said them moments ago, you’ve been trying to make sense of the words. As much pride as Caleb took in being able to see through you, it came at the expense of you being able to peer right back at him. Those words weren’t total lies, but they weren’t the full picture either. A half-truth. The Caleb you knew could be mischievous and cheeky towards you, sure. But he never did anything as underhanded as keep you locked up for days on end. A half-explanation. Even after so many questions and days to get his side of the story, he was still keeping things from you. A half-Caleb. Something was still wrong. He never used to make you feel so… alone . 

He still had you pinned underneath him. His grip was strong, but you don’t think either of you were putting your full strength into fighting with each other. Even after looking at him so many times, here, alive , you still had to bite back tears each time.

This was the closest you’ve really gotten to seeing him since he’s come back to you. 

He leans into your touch. “I can and I will.” He speaks with such conviction. The tone is familiar even if the empty stare accompanying his words is not.

“But…” The air was so still. You hated it. In fact, you’ve hated every minute of the last three days. It wasn’t just that Caleb was lying to you. It wasn’t that he’d leave you with nothing to do but sit and try not to cry and end up crying whenever he left anyway. It was that you wanted to talk to him again. You wanted the easiness of your Caleb back. The Caleb you whispered secrets to under cover of dark. Not this half-stranger, half… 

Friend? Family? He was always just Caleb. You never had any other word to describe who he was to you. You never needed one. But whatever he was to you, it was not this. Something had to give. You were either going to get half of the past back, or you were going to confront something new. None of which would be accomplished if you kept biting back your words or if he kept avoiding you like this. 

For all of his swift acting and nonchalant attitude, you knew something was off with Caleb no matter how much he denied it. Or maybe he wasn’t “off” at all, and the person you dedicated your entire life to really was a mirage. You were never the quickest to pick up on things. You may not be the smartest. But what you did know was that, even if Caleb was entirely right and he hadn’t changed at all in the months since the explosion, you did. 

Your voice was soft. “But you didn’t protect me, Caleb.” 

You curled your hand that was still pinned down into a fist. Not to resist him, but to let him feel the tension in your muscle. He opened his mouth, ready to shut you down again. You didn’t let him. 

“You didn’t come visit me at the hospital after the fires.” 

You remembered the sterile white walls and the too-thin sheets. 

“You weren’t there when I dug through the ashes, trying to find something, anything left of you and Gran.” 

The suffocating smoke lingered in your lungs, no matter how much the doctors told you that you were clear. 

“You aren’t there when I’m out on missions fighting Wanderers.” 

Work. Heavens, did work bring a whole new layer of pain. It was one thing to be the only survivor. It was another to survive day in and day out as skittish coworkers fumbled through apologies and tip-toed around you like fragile glass. Even if that was exactly what you were. 

“You weren’t there when I couldn’t eat for days because all I wanted was your food. You weren’t there for the nightmares that I still have because every time I close my eyes I just see that day over and over again.” 

You don’t realize how much you’re shaking until Caleb’s grip finally loosens. His facade begins to crumble as you see your own heartbreak reflected back in his eyes. He was lost for a moment. The strength seemed to slip away from him as his hands hovered uneasily. Unsure of whether he ought to let go or hang on. You didn’t give him a chance to decide as you entwined your hand with his. You weren’t going to let him slip away again. You needed him to ground you. 

“You weren’t there when I had to bury the absence of you in an empty grave. So no, Caleb. You didn’t protect me.” 

Surprise flashed across his face for the first time in a long while. A sickly satisfaction took root in your gut. Caleb, who always thought he knew best about everything when it came to you, at last confronted with his own contradictions. The bitter victory went as soon as it came.  

“It was all for your own good.” His justification was so predictable you almost laughed. “It was the only way to make sure you were safe.” 

You shook your head. Caleb may think that he was doing it all to keep you safe. He may even be right that you were safer thinking that he was dead. At the same time, you never felt such raw vulnerability as you did while believing Caleb was gone from this world. Your entire perspective shifted. Who you were as a person changed. It had to. You had your own apartment in Linkon, but it wasn’t home. You had to make peace with the fact that you were the only one who could make a home for yourself. Everyone you held in relation to you was gone. You learned to define yourself apart from those who left you. 

Perhaps the reason why it was so hard to talk to Caleb now was that you were also changed. Caleb’s death rocked your very foundations, and you came out the other side by reconstructing your personhood by yourself, brick by brick. Did he notice it? All the changes you underwent because of him. For the last week or so he’d give you these stares which you found puzzling. It reminded you of whenever he misplaced his phone or forgot his thought mid-sentence. You were right there, so what was he looking for? 

From your closer vantage now, you realized that searching wasn’t the only thing about his eyes. It was almost like pleading, begging even. You may have reunited physically, but you’d hardly found each other again at all. 

“I was the one who learned to bear the thunderstorms at night, alone. I was the one who showed up to family-at-work day events, alone. I was the one who learned to live in a world without you. All alone. So don’t accuse me of trying to go back there.” 

Each word of yours left a cut in him. At last he was open, without retort. He tried to avoid your gaze. Your thumb and index fingers guided him back towards you again. “You left me to grieve you, all alone.” 

He didn’t get to look away. If he wanted you to see him, you needed him to see you as well. An unconscious resistance gripped his body, yet he couldn’t break away. You knew the feeling well. It was exactly the sensation of being in that interrogation chair the first time you came face to face with the Colonel. 

“Don’t leave me again, Caleb.” You don’t notice that you’re crying again until his thumb wipes away your tears. Your voice trembles as you say it again. “Please, don’t leave me.” 

For the first time, he seems to understand what your words meant without misconstruction. He continues to brush your tears aside even as he’s holding back his own. “I’m here. I’m here now.” He said it as if he was also trying to convince himself. 

You let go of him and, for the briefest moment neither of you are touching the other. You wonder what he sees of himself in your eyes. Two mirrors, forever destined to reflect back at each other until you couldn’t tell where one began and the other ended. As you looked and looked and looked, you found what you were searching for. What you found was, frankly, a mess. Then again, so were you. And the discovery sent your heart aflutter as something in this hellscape of a world finally made sense to you again. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him down beside you, throwing yourself into his chest. “You’re here.” A statement so obvious that it makes you laugh. But the laughter quickly devolves back into crying. You cling to him like a lifeline because you really don’t want him to go. Because for the first time since you set eyes on him again did you fully process that Caleb wasn’t just ‘not dead’, no. Regardless of the technicalities between life and death, for all intents and purposes he very much did die. 

Now you could hear his voice. Touch the tears on his cheeks. Hear his heartbeat pounding. “You’re really here.” 

Caleb brushed his hands through your hair. You wondered if it was more of a gesture to calm you, or if it was to soothe himself. “I’ve always held myself back and endured. Day, after day, after day. It was suffocating.” His breath shuddered with each sentence. While you were mourning, Caleb was facing his own struggles. You didn’t know the details. He wouldn’t tell you if you asked. At least not right now. 

He’s in a better place now , is what people would say to you in the early days of dealing with his absence. You wonder if Caleb told himself that about you, wherever he was. That even though you both possessed two different sides to the same tragic story, you both pushed forward in the hopes of reaching some semblance of a happier ending. Perhaps the reason why he put up such an aggressive front whenever you said you didn’t need him was to hide from the fact that he also needed you. 

Caleb curled himself around you, leaning closer to your ear. “All I ever wanted was to come back to you.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t.” He choked on the words like they were poison down his throat. You try to filter his words into something intelligible. I did it to protect you.

“Oh, Caleb-” You hold onto him tighter- “but who was protecting you?” 

He buried his face into your hair and let out a painful sob. His whole body shook as the rain hit the glass windows. His presence screamed, I’m tired . You held a steady hand to his back as his shoulders heaved up and down. His breath came out ragged and uneven. I’m so tired . Just as he did to you many times before, you held him through the panic and shushed away his fears. 

You would protect him, even if you didn’t know what doing so looked like yet. You could have run away, called for help, brought down the entire building if your hatred and anger were genuine. In truth, you were scared for him. You wanted to monitor him. Figure out why there was a sudden darkness emanating from his being when he thought you were turned the other way. If staying away from you was genuine protection, then returning to your arms was no coincidence. Somewhere in his subconscious, he was reaching out to you. 

You were not going to let him go. Not again. 

The two of you lay curled into each other as a single mass. The sensation was oddly familiar. You couldn’t quite place it. A far away, cold place. Someone’s warm hand in yours. A vow to never be apart. A boy whose reassurance put you at ease even if the smile never quite reached his eyes. Was there once a time just like this one when everything lay so far out of control? When there was nothing to do except hold the other as tight as you could, crying and wishing for brighter days ahead. Or simply an end to the darkness. 

A cacophony of tearful whispers and sniffles mixed with the sound of never-ending droplets pitter-pattering around your cellophane birdcage. You thought by now you would have run out of tears for Caleb. Yet it didn’t feel so much like you were crying for him so much as you were crying on his behalf. And he, yours. All the pain and regret built up to be released like a message in a bottle to the sea. The glass object containing all the apologies too late to say, all the memories you didn’t get to make, bundled up and set adrift to whatever mysterious fate the waters held in store for it. Drifting and drifting, casual and random, into the fog of your mind until it was gone entirely. 

All that’s left is you, and Caleb, and the words you get to say to him now. 

“Caleb.” His name is, at last, comfortable in your mouth again. He senses it too, eyes flitting to yours with none of the harshness that you’ve detested growing accustomed to. 

He speaks your name with the same care. As if you were giving it back to each other. 

“If I stay, would you really accept me? As I am now?”

“I already accepted every version of you. The boy from my childhood. My pretend-boyfriend who was off to college. The Farspace Fleet Colonel.” You pressed your forehead against his. “I even accepted you dead. Because you wanted me to, right?” He took a shuddered breath as you brushed stray strands of hair away from his eyes. His hand encircled your wrist again. Absent was the forcefulness from before. His grasp this time was desperate. A silent apology for all the pain he’s caused you. 

You rest your palm atop his hand, an assurance that you weren’t going anywhere. “I never wanted you to be anything other than my Caleb.” 

His eyes widened, gleaming at the sound of the last two words leaving your lips. You honestly surprised yourself with your candor. It couldn’t be helped, really. Not when he was finally his unfiltered self. Take away all the heaviness surrounding the two of you bearing in from the outside world, and you’re left with a Caleb that you only thought you could see in your dreams. Laying by your side, holding your hand, like he only wanted to pull you in closer. 

“I like you like this…” You find yourself inching closer naturally. Were you in a more teasing mood, you might have accused him of using his Evol to draw you in. “I like being with you like this.” 

“Like how?” He asks. You were both too tired for any more games. Chase the other too long, and you’d only end up going in circles. 

You run a finger down his face. How many scars were there that you couldn’t see? “Next to me. Beside me. Not pushing me back, where I can’t see you. Or leaving me behind, where I can’t reach you.” Your finger trails along down his neck, past his shoulders, towards his back. “I like… you.”

You blink. The realization landed like a feather on a still pond, but hit you like a meteor. “I like you.” You say it in a full breath. You say it to see the way Caleb’s eyes swirl with stars. You say it because it’s the thing you’ve been trying to say this whole time. 

 “Just figured that out?” He means to tease, but his voice gives away the vulnerability lurking just behind. The arm around your waist freezes. His weariness leaves him with no defenses. You see in full for the first time how his eyes search yours for something. An answer? Permission? 

You lean in and close the distance. It’s soft at first, the kiss. Hesitant. A ghost of your lips on his. A test of the waters. You lean back for his response, unprepared for the raw emotion you’re met with. 

His hold on you is a plea of the most desperate. Tears prick at his eyeline again. He opens his mouth only to close it again. A million unspoken questions, unsure which is the right to ask. “Please,” is all he can manage. “ Please. ” 

When it’s clear that you are going to kiss him again, his body takes over. He pulls you into him, fervently and entirely. You can’t form proper thoughts, as if his own weaved into your mind with each press of his lips against yours. He moves a bit clumsily, but with the surety of a man too long deprived. Little gasps leave his mouth each time he pulls away. “I can’t believe-”

Caleb kisses you before he can finish his own sentence. Delirious to the point where he didn’t even realize he was speaking aloud.

“You’re so-”

He gets drunk on it. The way you fit so easily with him. The small breaths you take in between his. Your hooded eyes as you meet him halfway each time. 

He calls your name like it’s sacred. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You grab at his shirt in an effort to steady yourself. You continue to kiss as you let yourself be guided underneath him. His hands know exactly where to hold to make you feel at home. You reach up to hold his face again, gently this time cradled between your hands. “You always have me.” 

Caleb keeps pushing down until you’re flush against the couch. He kisses you softer, yet with the same rush as if you were made of sand that could slip through his fingers at any moment. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” You’ll repeat it as many times as he needs. “And you?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Yours.” 

You put your hands on his broad shoulders before he can kiss you again. The disappointment is immediate, but he waits. He always waits. There’s a softness to his features as he tilts his head a little. “What’s wrong?”

You shake your head. “Nothing, I just-” It felt silly to admit. “I just like looking at you.” 

The smile he gave you tugged at your heart. You felt tears welling again, this time from relief. If he was able to read you before, you were able to read him right back. With all his defenses lowered, it was like opening the pages of your favorite book. 

I’m here . Your whole being was reaching for him.

I’m yours . Caleb handles you with care. Not because you’re breakable, but because you’re treasured. He brushes aside your hands, guiding them back down to rest on the plush surface of his couch. 

I’ve always been yours. He presses his lips to your forehead first, then your nose. You can’t help a small laugh. His eyes crinkle in response and you know that, this time, he is asking for permission. You grant it. 

Without a word, he carries you up in his arms. Where you find yourself next is the home you had missed. It’s not entirely familiar. It isn’t the summer sun as he walks back with you on the last day of school or the first hug you gave him after he graduated from the DAA. Clumsy limbs and racing hearts. Your small gasps and the reverence with which he calls your name. 

But you know it all the same, the way he makes the entire world fade into the backdrop, taking you someplace outside of time and space. You were two halves of the same whole, split apart. Coming back together.

Between it all there is a gnawing sensation that the peace was fragile. Two split parts were bound to grow, to cover up the scars left behind by their torn half. The pieces would never fit quite right again, not without cutting back into the other. 

His hand grips your waist and you take deep breaths against his neck. 

The questions, the technicalities, they were all for tomorrow.  

For now, you let yourself be content just as you are. You and Caleb. One and two. Caleb and you. Somewhere along the way you stopped having lines of your own and let yourself bleed into him, and he into you. His hot breath fans the side of your face. You make a thousand silent promises to one another, though you both know keeping all of them is impossible. If even a handful survive, you’d take it.

If the sky clears sometime in the night, you don’t notice. 

At dawn on the fourth day, you see him off at the airfield. It’s the same as all the other times you’ve seen him off. Almost. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to him in his Colonel’s uniform. It doesn’t look bad, few things did on Caleb, but it was another reminder that things were different now. 

He was different now. Only time would prove whether that was a good or bad thing. 

“Make sure to look after yourself. Eat three full meals a day and go to bed before dawn. You got that, pipsqueak?” Caleb ruffles your hair.

You swat away his hand in annoyance. “Caleb! As if the Skyhaven winds weren’t already bad enough for my hair.” 

Some things would never change. 

An alarm blares. Several Fleet members rush toward their ships. Caleb shouts something over to his crew, but you don’t hear it. The sun was out in full force after the storm, though the chill of the morning air prevented its full heat from blanketing where you stood. You squinted against the rays, following a particular glint of silver around Caleb’s neck. 

“Well, I guess it’s time to say goodbye.” Caleb takes a step towards you, but stops himself from going any further. There it was. That strange hesitance lingering over him like smoke. 

You used to let him walk away on his own. This time, you cross over to him. “Not a goodbye.” You smooth down his shirt before reaching up to tease out his dog tags. You look up at him, defiant. “See you next time.” 

Whatever he sees in your eyes puts him at ease. A gentle smile graces his features as he echoes your words. You hate the uncertainty in his eyes. You swear to yourself that you’d clear the cloudiness. That shade of violet which is pure, unburdened. You’ll take all that’s grey and wilting about him into yourself if that’s what it took to bring back some of his shine. 

You do what you weren’t brave enough to do before. Looping a finger through his silver chain, you tug him down and press a firm kiss to his lips. It is determinedly quick, but the full effects were felt. Caleb cupped your face and stole a second, then a third. 

The sound of spacecraft engines cuts through the air. He sighs. “You’re not making this any easier.”

“Have I ever?”

“No,” Caleb chuckles. He gives you a look. He could tell, you think, that you too have changed. “You never do.” 

You don’t know if things will ever truly go back to being easy, if they ever were in the first place. Caleb adjusts the cap on his head and gives your hand a final squeeze. A crinkle draws your attention, and you feel old paper against your palm. 

“What’s…” You smooth out the yellowed scrap and scoff once you see the old coupon. You look up to find that his remorse is genuine. You don’t ask what forgiveness he’s asking for. Nothing and everything, is what he’ll say. Instead, you slap the paper back on his chest. “Coupon denied.” 

“Excuse me?” He let out a laugh that he didn’t even expect. “It’s not expired!”

“It’s invalid.” You retort, folding your arms and giving him your sternest glare. “There’s nothing to apply the coupon to.”

“But-”

“Save it.” His hand ghosts over where yours rests, right above his heart. You feel every beat drumming underneath your fingertips. “Save it, and come back to me.” 

A kaleidoscope of emotions flits across his face. He’s holding back the truth. He wants to tell you off. He needs to kiss you again. All these confusing and wonderful things bundle up to make your Caleb. You meant what you told him yesterday. Whether he was finding a way to claw back to who he was, or whether he was entirely changed, you would be there waiting for him. Just as he’s waited for you all those years before. 

“I will.” 

[sukunas-wife]

the Dadkuna series is great!!! Sukuna isn’t my main character that I like in jjk but this series has me SAT and WAITING for the next upload! I’ve always wondered though what momkuna and dadkuna’s relationship dynamic is. We get that sort of in how they met but what about when their relationship is established? I get the sense that obviously dadkuna would quite literally do anything for her but what exactly goes through his mind when he thinks about her?

Oh? Guess whose back 😎🤧

Me- I’m sickly too 🤭 but! The blog is picking up 🥺 and I’ve been working on this for a good time so here you go 🤍🤍🤍

(Indentions are thoughts, things he didn’t actively say out loud 🥺🤍)

Lord Ryomen Sukuna, though emotionally stunted and constipated, loves his wife. Would level cities and kill men easily if she didn’t have such a strong hold in him.

But he’s a misogynist at heart to an extent. He wants you at home with his kids being his cute little wife that he knows he can always come home to. It was your overwhelming passion for helping women who couldn’t bear children that convinced him he could let you live your life, as long as he knew he had people there to look over you when he couldn’t.

He appreciates the fact that when he’s tired, covered in blood that’s not his own, and carrying the exhaustion of his war ridden day, there you are rushing to him when he enters his temple. Disregarding your fine silk robes and the blood partly way on his body. The way you cling to him, always so happy and relieved to see him come home.

The first time he came home after being gone for so long, he remembers how you cried and held on to him, your anguished filled cries when you cried about how you thought he was never coming back, how you were scared he’d left you alone. He remembers how his hands found your waits holding you a bit away, another hand coming to cup your face, thumb wiping away your tears when he looked at you with tired eyes, “It would take the militia of this land's greatest sorcerers to even consider preventing my way back to your embrace.” Your teary eyes softened before you buried your face in his chest again hugging him and clinging to him.

He longed for that feeling of your embrace whenever he would leave you behind, he could deny it but on his way home to you, his heart ached and longed to feel your embrace and hear your praises of how he had returned. You cried no more because you were filled with that confidence he would always return.

——————

He’s a traditional man with his one form of values, not once did he long for sexual pleasure or was he consumed with lust. Misery, pain and the screams of his victims fueled him and filled him with an immense pleasure no woman’s body could ever possibly offer him.

They were all the same, sultry, scandalous, attention seeking harlots, prostitutes and women. Thinking they could better their lives if they could slip into his bed. They were wrong, every woman who he allowed to enter his bed chamber under these pretences had walked in with starry eyes and ambition. Only to cry and scream for their life while he slowly dug his nails into their flesh tearing them all apart, slowly and agonisingly. That was until he saw you that one day, any girl of age would’ve started to present themselves to him in shy or subtle ways hoping to catch his eyes. There you were kneeling out of respect in his presence, scared you had offended your lord.

‘Oh? Is this little morsel afraid?’ Fear filled and humbling yourself before him. You couldn’t look at him, there wasn’t an ounce of “I want to sleep with this man.” And yet these feelings caused a sentiment in the depths of his chest, something stirred inside him, you head captured his interest (non sexual at this point). ‘Hmm?, this will be a fine pet to break.’

You were a phenomenon in the temple, one he wanted to study, to take into his clawed hands and mould, twist, stretch and push to the edge and then just over the point of breaking to see what would become of you. Yet, once he had you in hands reach, once you were close enough for him to graze your skin with his nails… he didn’t treat you like a common daisy or water Lilly, no he took you into his hands like a Lotus floating on the water's surface. Making elegant work and taking care of your delicate bloom. You would be his delicate lotus that no one else would ever take the joy in having.

——————

“My gratifying queen, My delicate lotus, My benevolent wife.” Words he doesn’t speak so freely, he whispers them against your skin whenever you’d sleep by his side.

Delicate words and honeyed names had never once crossed his mind in his existence. Yet here he was, allowing himself to indulge in the smallest amount of vulnerability with these words. The press of his feverish kisses against your neck and cheeks between every word.

‘My little beloved pet, so tired, sleeping away the wares of today. How could something so small and insignificant like you cause this shift in my existence hm?’

The back of his hand brushing hair away from your face, nails grazing the side of your face lightly, he held you in his embrace watching you. Two arms securely around you, one supporting his head, the other kept grazing your skin. You’d stir in your sleep when he shifted slightly away from you to lay on his back. You’d become so used to his body heat even on the hottest days you’d search him out half awake.

‘My little lotus,’ he closed the space between you, pulling you into his side again, ‘rest your weary head without worries of tomorrow, I’m here to hold you now.’

He wouldn’t admit it, he didn’t even know it at that moment, but he was absolutely smitten with you in ways he had yet to comprehend. But it showed in his subconscious movements. A hand on your lower back or waist guiding you, knowing you’re close and safe.

Bringing home little jewels and trinkets he’d usually never spare a second glance . That is until a stone sparkles in the light of his flames and he stops briefly to take a close look.

My queen would look Devine with these adorning her neck. These stones would make fine pieces for my wife.

It was a shock when he came home one night waking you when he sat on the bed. You sat up sleepily while he handed you a bag of precious stones and jewels telling you he had brought you a gift, a free hand of his brushing your hair back and bringing you closer by the back of your head so he could kiss your lips.

——————

It was your wedding, there you were standing beside him in the Ceremonial Robes. You stood on his right, his eyes looking down at you.

Hmm, What an enticing display, to have my little pet dressed up so exquisitely for all to see and admire.

Even more enticing to know soon you’ll be round with my child, what an ethereal sight you will be laid out in silk robes and swollen carrying my legacy

My delicate little lotus, my malevolent queen, my gratifying and honourable wife. Perhaps these thoughts never be spoken aloud with heavy sentiment. But I vow myself to you in this instant, that I will do all to assure our future, our health, our children and our endless lives.

I will assure your hand never be left cold nor alone as long as I can take it. nor will it ever be lifted in vain or to labour. Your stomach is never empty as I will assure you have the finest wine and a feast every night if it’s what your little human heart desires, your head will always have a place to rest even if it is only on my chest. Your nights will never be cold, your days will never be short, your loneliness will exist no longer, and your heart will be mine, and mine will be yours.

It wasn’t all he told himself, but it was in the moment you felt a warm sensation against your skin, on your chest below the centre of your collar bone but above your breast was the same mark you’d seen on his tongue very few times.

Ryomen Sukuna DID NOT enjoy the thought of staining your teeth black, instead he took your hand, as if vowing and brains you, the ring finger of your left hand, the base faded to a black band, above it a snark mark matching your chest and another thin black bank, just below your nail was another black band. That’s how your little husband decided to present you as his.

Tag List: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks

@bofadeezs

@sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira

Broken :( @simpforyoubitch @domainofmarie @ilovemybabies378 @anyaswlrd @cyder-puff

[gojoidyll]

clear skies | part 1

emperor alpha jing yuan x female omega reader

warnings | a/b/o , fantasy au , grammatical errors , discrimination , eludes to poor living environments , abusive father , etc .

this is my first a/b/o fic, so idk if it’ll be good, but I hope you all will enjoy! also, this was meant to be a oneshot but it was starting to get long 😭 so this will be broken up into a few parts!

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Your eyes stared blankly out the window of the carriage. Your mind was anything but quiet as the wheels jostled on the dirt path. Leaning your elbow against the armrest and your body finally sinking into the softness of the pillows that were stuffed inside the compact space along with you, you let your hand travel to your throat before letting your fingers run along the soft skin.

This world wasn’t fair.

There were alphas, the ones who were the pinnacle of society and undoubtedly controlled how the world turned. They were both rulers and people who others would follow without any second guesses. They were both strong and commanding, their scents seeming to overpower anything they come into contact with. There were the betas, they made up most of the population. They were followers and had no scent at all. There was nothing wrong with being a beta, but you have never heard of any coming into power. And finally, the weakest and rarest of them all, the omegas. In public eye they were nothing but nuisances that could be used to sell off to the highest bidding alpha. They were nothing but property to be used as bargaining chips in hopes of a better life.

Which is how you, the 13th in line to your royal family, found yourself being sold off to another land. Unlike your brothers and sisters who were born as alphas, you were born as an omega. Your father always tried to find ways on how to get rid of you, and the chance has finally arisen… though, you were certain that he would of much rather had the cold kill you instead. The only reason why he kept you alive so long was because your kingdom was surrounded and engulfed by snow, ice and winter storms. Your country being well-known for making jewelry and selling it for resources in return, but everyone knows that an omega would run higher in payment instead of useless jewels.

“We’re here.”

You ignored the stagecoach as the carriage came to a halt and your door was opened. Stepping out of the carriage, your gaze fell upon a castle. You didn’t know much of the emperor you were being sold off to, but, well, it’s not like you had much at the other place anyway.

“Good evening, princess.”

Your cold gaze fell onto a servant who had come up and bowed to you, “we are happy to have you here.”

The servant brought her gaze up and looked at the two guards who had bowed and left you standing alone as they went back to the carriage and signaled the person driving the carriage to leave.

“Uh-,” the servant girl fretted, “where your ladies in waiting or the servants that came with you?”

You huffed, “children born after the tenth child do not get personal servants or ladies in waiting,” you said simply. When coming to this new land, you packed light, in other words, you only had the clothes on your back which you were sure would be disposed of as your new home would most likely give you new clothes to wear instead of the clothes from your home country.

The servant girl nodded with a smile, “I understand, princess! Now, without further delay… my name is Sana, I’ll be your personal servant from now on, so if you ever require anything, then please do not be afraid to ask.”

You nodded quietly as Sana turned and motioned you to follow her.

“Would you like a small tour of the palace?”

“No, thank you,” you said, “when will I be meeting the emperor?”

The big doors to the palace opened as you both got closer to it, the guards that you passed all bowing to you before straightening back up, but you paid them no mind.

“He has taken up other responsibilities as of right now, but you will be meeting him formally during the wedding ceremony.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Your wedding, right… that would be happening in just a few days’ time.

“What is the emperor like,” you asked the question despite the fact that it didn’t actually matter. At the end of the day, you will still be bound to him no matter what words came out of your mouth.

Sana slowed her walk to where she was beside you as she gently guided you down the long halls of the palace. Her eyes roaming over you briefly as she took in your appearance. You wore a heavy winter coat that went all the way down to your ankles, your feet cladded in snow boots, and your hands still wore the thick winter gloves. And then there was your face. You had no scars nor blemishes, your lips were nice and full, you wore no head coverings or jewelry, and your eyes… they looked so dull, almost lifeless and bored. And yet, despite your cold exterior, she could see how beautiful you are. They say that omegas were born beautiful, and with you standing before her, she could see how true that statement was.

“Our emperor is kind, just, well loved…”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Any servant would say that, even the ones at your old home despite you knowing the actual truth of how your father was like.

“But more importantly, he is the honored one. On both heaven and earth.”

And hell too, you thought bitterly as Sana finally came to a stop. Her body bending forward slightly as she gave you a small bow and motioned to the room to your right, “this shall be your living quarters from now on. In preparation for your visit we had already tailored some clothes with the measurements that your homeland has provided.”

You hummed lightly as you reached for the doorknob and twisted it, your eyes pearing in first before taking your first step.

You were surprised it wasn’t closet that they would try to stuff you in like your father did. In fact, the room was vast, way too big for one person, the bed was no better as it had to be the biggest piece of furniture that you have ever seen or have even been allowed to sit on. There were two doors as well. One leading to a walk in-closet and the other most likely being a private bathroom which is definitely an upgrade from being thrown into dirty, used dish water.

“This room is for me?”

The words sounded weaker than you intended them to be. A part of you was still in awe that such a room even existed for you.

Sana smiled as she stepped into the room as well, “of course! In our country, omegas are treated as divine omens. Their existence a sign that good fortune will come to the land, to the people, and to the alpha mated to them.”

You felt your body tense; you heard rumors that this place viewed omegas as such while everywhere else omegas were just seen as livestock needed to be sold.

“I can assure that my presence will do no such thing, in fact…,” you stretched as you yawned a bit – the weeks’ worth of travel finally catching up to you, “I will not be surprised if this so called emperor of yours decides to take up a few concubines and has children with them. Not that I will be heartbroken or anything if such a thing were to happen.”

You walked over to the bed and plopped down onto it, your gaze flicking to Sana as you smiled at her, “ahh, but don’t worry. I’ll be sure to be on my best behavior for the emperor.”

Sana nodded, albeit slowly, “do you need anything else before I take my leave?”

You looked around for a moment before shaking your head, “not right now, but when do you prepare dinner?”

It was already late in the day for there to be lunch.

“For now, your meals will be sent here to your room. Once you’re married and adjusted here, you will be eating with the emperor in the dining hall.”

You nodded, “thank you… that will be all.”

Sana bowed to again before leaving your room and closing the door behind her, and finally you were left alone. Honestly it was probably the only peace that you will have for a while. Sighing, you fell back into your bed, but immediately huffed. Even spreading like a damn bird, you still couldn’t even take up a quarter of the bed. Just how damn big of a bed did they think you need?!

Deciding to further investigate your new room, you rolled off the bed. Your feet colliding with the marble floor.

“Hmm…”

You looked down and decided to take off your heavy winter boots, gloves, and your winter coat. It was starting to get hot in this place anyway. You chanced a look at the closet door that was open, even from over by the bed, you could see all the expensive silks that were inside.

Tossing the coat to the ground, you padded over to the closet and peeked into it. Your eyes roaming over each piece of fabric before walking into the closet. You wondered if they meant to tailor so many clothes…

You grabbed the first dress that you saw. It looked nice, easy to move around in and definitely looked better to wear in such a warm climate instead of the heavy winter gear you have on.

“Should I bathe first though?”

You sighed and decided to do so for the better. Might as well, right?

The rest of the day seemed to pass by in a blur after that. The tub was humongous, the hot water was a luxury, the soaps were expensive smelling, the dress felt too exquisite even for your body, and the food delivered to you at dinner was better than anything you have ever received. It definitely beat the small scraps that you would get in your homeland.

And your bed was to die for when you finally got to sleep in it that night. It was safe to say that even though you were in a new place, no nightmares haunted you – which was nice compared to what you were used to.

The next day greeted you kindness and a bountiful breakfast that Sana had given you with a very bright smile that blinded you slightly. Thankfully, though, she let you eat in peace and even after you declined her offer (again) for a tour, she let you lounge around in your room once again.

“Maybe I should have taken up that offer for a tour,” you muttered slightly as yyou found yourself staring out the window to your room. The window was vast (not as big as your bed, but still big) and even had a big ledge to it with some pillows and a blanket for you to lounge on. Though, you would have much preferred a balcony, but whatever, “some air should be nice,” you said quietly as you reached forward and unlock the window and pushed it slightly to open fully.

The breeze that greeted you was far better than the winter storm that you were accustomed to. Though, any peace that you were settling into was interrupted when a sword came flying out of nowhere, barely missing you, and clanging loudly into your room before coming to a scratching, sliding halt on the cold, marble floor.

“The hell,” you muttered.

You heard a few curses and yells.

“Idiots! How many times do I have to tell you not to train so close to the castle walls-“ the voice soon died out when the newcomer emerged from the bushes and his eyes met yours. Sighing, you got up from your perch and went deep into your room to retrieve the sword.

‘Heavy…,’ you thought begrudgingly as you picked it up with both hands and immediately went back to the window to see the man already waiting there.

He had silky silver hair and breath-taking gold eyes that could strike anyone down with just a look. It made your heart thunder loud as you went back to your spot on the large windowsill before holding out the sword.

“Here.”

You didn’t hide your disdain as he took the sword from you, his scent immediately smacking you across the face.

‘He’s an alpha…,’ you resisted the urge to scrunch up your nose. He smelled good, that much was for sure, but you also didn’t want to get caught ogling an alpha since you were supposed to be marrying the emperor, and no matter how much Sana praises the emperor to be good, you doubted that even he would be kind to some omega flirting with some alpha soldier before a marriage.

“Thank you…”

You gave him your name and he smiled, “oh, you’re the princess.”

You could hear the edge in his voice. What he meant to say was ‘you’re the omega,’ but you didn’t comment on it.

“And you? Are you some soldier?”

“You could say that,” he said with a laugh.

You hummed lightly before turning your gaze away from him and looking back at the sky. He followed your gaze, “what are you looking at?”

It was obvious that he wasn’t taking the hint to leave, so you decided to play along with the foolish soldier. If he knew you were an omega and the princess promised to the emperor, then he wouldn’t be just standing around here – unless he has a death wish.

“The sky… my homeland is always being racked with snow, ice, and blizzards. I never got to see what the sky looked like before coming here.”

He leaned against the wall, his elbow laying against the windowsill close to your knee causing you to scoot away from him slightly, something that he noticed but didn’t comment on, “that so?

You hummed again as he looked back at you, his eyes studying your face, and when it became clear that he wasn’t leaving immediately you turned your gaze back to him; this time your eyes narrowed into a glare.

“Better run along now, I never met this emperor, but I doubt he would appreciate nosy alphas sniffing around what belongs to him.”

Your voice dripped with coldness that could only ever be grown in your homeland. The snap in it caused the soldier’s eyes to widen before he grinned, “right, right. Sorry for bothering you princess. I’ll leave you alone, but … I have a feeling we’ll meet again. Oh, and before I go, please, call me Yuan.”

You snorted, “I think soldier just fine,” though you did admit that Yuan was a nice name for such a strong looking alpha- you snapped yourself back into focus and shooed him away.

He laughed again and bowed before taking the sword and disappearing back into the trees. His voice ringing out as he gave orders to the other soldiers to move their training elsewhere.

“Maybe he’s a general,” you mused to yourself before getting comfortable once again, “not that it matters anyway…”

Days passed and you found yourself toying with plenty of things. You were given books, a bookshelf, and even tools that allowed you to fashion your own jewelry if you got too bored. (Everyone in your family were obligated to learn the art of jewelry crafting since it was your country’s trademark.) And finally, the fateful day of your wedding to a emperor you never met arrived. A part of you hoped that you could talk with Yuan again so you would have another person to talk to besides Sana, but no matter. It wasn’t like you could have actually been friends with an alpha anyway.

The preparation for the ceremony was long and tedious and tiring. You were bathed practically three times before you were allowed to be fitted in an wedding dress. The only jewels you were allowed to wear were a pair of earrings and a headband encrusted with gold jewels that reminded you of Yuan’s eyes. Your neck remained bare of any necklaces.

Once fitted and your hair done, you were left to breathe for a moment, your eyes drifting to your nightstand as you looked at your small, glass bottle. Inside it were small food pills given to you on your first day here. The food pills helped block your scent and stop your heat from happening. You knew you shouldn’t take anymore, however… you went over to it and opened the cap. Picking up the glass bottle you poured it a little where a single food pill fell out, and swiftly – you popped the pill into your mouth and swallowed.

You figured that after you are married, if he wishes it, then you’ll stop taking the pills. For all you know, he probably doesn’t even want to smell you.

“Are you ready princess,” Sana asked gently.

“If I must be,” you answered swiftly.

The ceremony was grand. As you walked down the aisle, each servant, guard, soldier, and official tilted their head down and you did the same as you slowly came to a stop at the alter.

“Your neck.”

You tried to hide your surprise at the voice. Peeking just a little, there stood Yuan. You honestly wanted to laugh but managed to keep it in as you stood before him and tilted your head to the side. Your hair falling idly as your neck was exposed. Stepping forward, the emperor, Jing Yuan, wrapped you up in his arms, his eyes watching your face carefully before leaning down and letting his lips brush across the column of your throat.

“No scent,” he murmured quietly, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

“Didn’t know that you even wanted to smell my scent,” you answered truthfully but winced a moment later as he bit down harshly. As an omega, you were disgusted with yourself at how much you liked being claimed by an alpha. Every single part of you was trying to fight off the submissiveness in your body, but Jing Yuan wasn’t having it as he marked you easily and slowly brought his mouth away from you. His eyes solely focused on his mark before letting one of his hands travel up from your waist and to your face as he took a hold of your chin so that your eyes were on him.

He smiled at you as if he hadn’t just taken your freedom and leaned forward to capture your lips with his own.

The ceremony was filled with cheers as the union was sealed between you and Jing Yuan, and the rest of the day and night ran long before you were finally able to be dismissed from the occasion with Jing Yuan at your side. No one daring to step in his path as he held you close to him.

“So, my queen, where would you like to sleep tonight?”

Was he asking to make fun of you? Wasn’t it obvious where you would be sleeping if not next to him?

You regarded him quietly as the servants rushed passed you and kept their heads down.

You decided to ignore his question and asked on of your own.

“Why didn’t you say who you were before?”

Jing Yuan hummed in thought as he lead you down the hall, “I guess it was fun just seeing you… be you. You are probably already aware, but it’s hard to find such genuine people when you become emperor.”

“How humble of you to say,” you muttered as he laughed and led you up some stairs and down another hall before he stopped at a door you could only guess was his own.

“You know, you don’t have to sleep here if you don’t want to.”

It was nice that he actually gave you a choice, but you know you didn’t have one, “just stay on your side of the bed,” you grumbled before opening the door. At least you were right that he wasn’t intending to consummate the marriage just yet which gave you a bit of time to relax after all even if it was in a different room than the one you were finally getting used to.

“Of course, whatever you wish.”

Whatever you wish, huh? What a lie.