#i wish it rained more here though
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hrothtober day 23: rain i like the rain. its sound is comforting to me, and it drowns out all other noises from my mind. but it never lasts long.
#ffxiv#hrothgar#gpose#hrothtober#hrothtober 2023#i love rain so much#at my current house one of the things i was most concerned with was making sure there was a porch so i could sit outside without getting we#i wish it rained more here though#the quote is from an old comic on tumblr i really like#for the longest time i thought they deleted and vanished from the internet#but when i went to go get it for this prompt i managed to find them again!!#they're strayghost-art on tumblr and if you go into their archive the comic is from april 2015
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Bunny in danger!
The Chain leave Bunny somewhere safe to clear a monster camp on their trail. Despite Wild’s assurances, Bunny isn’t so safe after all.
@thatonecrazysidekick @tiredgaytheatrekid pssst more Bunny! (I’m sorry)
TW for blood and injury.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ .
Black sand exploded around him, and with half his group of monsters disintegrated, Hyrule had a second to breathe before the final four pounced all at once. A spear cut a fierce gash into his right arm, blood dribbling from the wound and staining his dark sleeve. Another nicked him on the calf. A third, he grabbed by the shaft and twisted out of the monster’s hands, relishing in the way its eyes widened in alarm before he shoved the weapon back into its owner’s stomach, the monster crumbling into black sand.
A high squeal, that fiery protectiveness within his chest swelling, forcing him to look up in time to see Bunny slam into a tree with a sharp shriek. Hyrule’s heart jumped into his throat as the little pink rabbit crashed to the ground in a heap. He didn’t move.
The fourth lizalfos took advantage of the distraction and sent its spear through the back of his thigh. Pain turned his vision white and Hyrule stumbled, the spear sticking out from the front of his leg, blood trailing down his thigh in dark rivulets. Then, he caught sight of that tiny bundle of pink fur, of a lizalfos stalking over to it, a fierce bite wound in its arm, and a wave of blistering fury and golden desire to protect flooded his mind. The air around him crackled.
“Don’t touch him!” A sharp snap of his fingers, and then dozens of bolts of lightning slammed into the ground all around him, turning the world white. The ground shook and lizalfos shrieked in terror, the sounds cut off swiftly.
And then the lightning was gone, leaving behind seven stunned heroes, their hair frizzy and wild and their eyes wide. Hyrule paid them no mind, nor did he feel the normal drain such a significant spell would cause or the spear still embedded in his thigh; he frantically hobbled over to Bunny, kneeling alongside him and gritting his teeth as the spear in his thigh shifted, his vision swimming alarmingly.
“Bunny!” His hands were already glowing a tender pink, healing magic at the ready, and he pressed them against Bunny, closing his eyes as his magic sought out the wounds his little friend had accumulated. His magic pulsed in response, a warning he ignored as he trickled more into Bunny’s still form.
“Traveller, your leg!” Wild had joined him at some point. Hyrule hadn’t noticed, when the edges of his vision were blurry, his ears roaring with blood. Now, his veins began to boil. “You need to—”
He turned to Wild, teeth bared. “You said he would be safe!”
Wild’s eyes widened and he flinched back as if Hyrule had struck him. “I…”
“Look at him! He almost died because of you! This is your fault!”
“I—I’m—” Wild’s eyes glistened now, and Hyrule found the flames were only stoked by the sight.
Before he could snap anything more, Twilight pushed himself between them. “Enough!” he hissed, pushing Wild away. “Take a walk, Cub.”
“B—but, I—”
“I know,” Twilight said, gentler than Hyrule thought Wild deserved. “We’ll talk later. I’ll take over.”
Wild nodded shakily, scurried away before Hyrule could say any more.
#Hyrule doesn’t mean anything he said btw#he’s angry and upset and scared and in a LOT of pain#he won’t let Bunny out of his sights easily after this#when he crashes Bunny sneaks away though#(to sit with Sky while he plays his harp. Bunny is sad after this)#Hyrule and Wild will be having a talk about this dw#these two are besties in every universe no matter what it takes to get there#I love them so much#it’s so hot here right now so I’m posting more Bunny early to distract myself from the miserable heat#I want to keep writing but it’s too hot :(#first Wild POV and I can’t even keep writing… curse you Australia and your fierce summer#please manifest us some rain if you see this the fire threats are real…#lu#loz#lu pink bunny au#linked universe#lu fic#linked universe fanfic#faye writes#lu Bunny#lu hyrule#lu wild#lu twilight#tw blood#tw injury#I’m going to try take a nap now wish me luck#oh also Hyrule is fine#he gets two potions in him after the spear is painfully removed and Twi carries him (Hyrule still carries Bunny)
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Helloooo popping in to say I love your art! It’s cute and feels soft (reminds me of when you’ve got a really smooth pencil and it just ghosts across the paper) but your poses and anatomy also give it a good feeling of realism :D
classic question here; do you have anything you’d say is a big influence on your art? I love seeing what people answer and trying to connect it back to the kind of thing they currently make :]
!! thank u!!! i do wish i could get more creative with angles, but im happy knowing my art gives u that feeling ^_^
I really enjoy comics!! I like poking thru graphic novels and webcomics, so I've fallen into the habit of exposing myself to lots of different styles over time that I'm fairly explorative with my art. It gives me a lot to study, especially since different artists have different strengths and preferences
I also think of myself as a simple person, so I'm not strongly attached to anything in particular... I notice a lot of artists find their ground in certain interests or aesthetics. But since I'm not really like that, I try to put a bit of myself in whatever I draw to connect with my art better. Its probably why I like taking creative liberty when making fanart lol
im also drawn to indie creative work like games and animation! they tend to be extremely varied and unique from each other, which is great since I work from my own sense of curiosity. I also hate repetition, so having things that set themselves apart visually or otherwise is something I like to look for.
#thank u for sending this in!!! i had fun answering this.. i had to think really hard so im glad it helped me do some reflection ^_^#on top of all this im a very visual person so i look at things if theyre eyecatching and then see if i like it for any of these qualities#afterwards.. so i do tend to lean to cutesy styles like soft shapes and big eyes but i wouldnt go as far as making it a calling card for my#art style since i love to keep shaking things up whenever i can. if that makes sense? or u could say im impulsive and u would be right#i rly like gigi dg and plushpon since theyve been a huge inspiration for my art over time.. as for comics i remember being really into#always raining here and colorless... its been a while since ive looked at any webcomics though so maybe i should make time to do that#BONE was one of my favorites as a kid because of the storytelling and art style even if i could never read the books in order#although im also really picky so even if i dont have a set taste there are some things i dont really find interesting like superhero comics#i do wish i had an interest that i could pour my art into instead of just drawing whatever on a whim#i think nature comes pretty close but thats more of an appreciation than smth like. birdwatching or camping or animals#so rather than wanting my art to be known for a certain thing i think ill try and be happy with drawing things i know i like and people#liking whatever that might be. shrugs#yapping#ask
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#a mystery grab-bag of thoughts:#sometimes i just want to send you dumb memes out of nowhere and hope that the randomness and absurdity will make you laugh#when i do my daily crossword puzzles i wish we were sitting across from each other racing to see who finishes first#(but working together on the really difficult ones because god knows I’ll never get a Sunday NYT by myself)#i think of you often but especially when it’s raining#I’ve taken to making a pie every week—nothing fancy just something in a graham cracker crust that sets in the fridge#(so far i have one ol’ faithful recipe and I’ve had a couple of failures but they were still tasty)#my phone sometimes suggests a selection of pictures of you and it used to make my heart stop a little bit#but now i just look at your face and smile and think about how lovely it was to see you every day; I’ll cherish that#i never thought you were a ‘media bully’ but if I could return the favor I’d urge you to watch amc’s interview with the vampire#it’s so GOOD and so GAY and i have a small crush on Eric bogosian that goes in the same category as my crush on Greg Davies#and it’s quite funny in places like a dry humor that leans surreal/absurd#i dunno i think you’d appreciate it even though you’re not a horror person#i wish i could hold your hand and kiss your fingers and probably nibble on them a bit#(what can i say? I’m a cat)#i made some new glitter bottles this week and they look so pretty in the sun#today my Spanish lesson was about telling time#i have no problem remembering ¿a qué hora? but get tripped up on the format of answering#(son las (hora) y (minutos) and son (minutos) para las (hora) and i could get around it by only ever answering on the half hour)#I’m not like *confident* about my Spanish but I’m picking up more than what’s in English captions when i watch stuff which is neat#i do wonder if it’s sad or weird to still feel you here with me in my heart#but i think when someone is precious to you time and distance can’t really touch that love#anyway I’m going to go do my dishes instead of blithering here all night lol#sending you care and love and sunshine and flowers my darling dearest#💜#🌻
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[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time
I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!
socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist
Jayce:
-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”
Viktor:
-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”
Ekko:
-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry
Vander:
-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.
-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married
Silco (old man):
-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”
Silco (young):
-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy
Steb:
-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready
Jinx:
-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman
Vi:
-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”
-"My... wife?"
-"Again"
Caitlyn:
-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled
Mel:
-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue
Sevika:
-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple
#jayce x reader#viktor x reader#ekko x reader#silco x reader#vander x reader#jinx x reader#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#sevika x reader#mel x reader#jayce talis#viktor arcane#ekko arcane#silco arcane#arcane vander#jinx#vi arcane#caitlyn kiramman#mel medarda#sevika#arcane x reader#arcane headcanon#arcane 2#arcane writing#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn arcane#mel arcane#jinx arcane#arcane jinx#arcane silco
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Imo it's the desire to experience a fantasy that motivates these comments. In these people's eyes, The Nice Guy At Work should either be perfect and emotionally mature with no character development needed, or he should crash and burn and prove himself an incel for the audience's satisfaction, while Retsuko learns to be happy alone. But you're right; folks forget that Aggretsuko's main thesis is teaching us how to *accept reality*.
If you're looking for love in your 20s-- which Retsuko is-- no man within a healthy age range of you is going to be fully formed and as emotionally healthy as, say, Kristoff in Frozen II. You're supposed to grow together, which Retsuko and Haida do.
Also, examining the "nice guys" trope Retsuko and Haida may fall into, people fail to examine Retsuko's reasons for saying "no" to Haida, or Haida's reasons for "pursuing", which he never really did after he got what felt like a clear "no". He's not just some dude from work-- he was in Retsuko's inner circle for quite some time. Maybe she felt like she "didn't know him that well," which she said a lot, but in actuality, she spent more time with him than everyone except Fenneko. The context seemed more leaning toward the feeling that Haida was her work friend, and nothing more, which was a boundary Retsuko placed.....for what? (Bear with me here.)
Because she knew that giving someone from her department a try would maybe be more difficult and risky, yet simultaneously boring, than dating, say, a mysterious dude from her Driver's Ed class. It would also be less exciting, because she *already* knew a lot about Haida. And let's be real; Retsuko's big character arc, in addition to gaining her confidence and her voice without exploding, is mainly about her losing her taste for whirlwind hijinks. Remember that her plan in S1 was to "get cute", find a rich guy, get married ASAP, and then leave her boring, crappy accounting job for good. But she grew to realize that her boss, while an asshole, wasn't the Devil himself. Tsunoda wasn't the workplace Succubus she imagined her to be, just predictably shallow in some areas of her personality. Kabae was more than a nuisance; Tsubone held a lot of wisdom to offer. Even Anai had a chill button. A steady job wasn't a bad thing. And throughout her development, Retsuko had to also reasses her relationship with Haida. Because while her "no" meant "no", and Haida took it as such without cutting her off as a friend, Retsuko had to change how she saw him as she did with all of her coworkers (save Fenneko) in order to grow as a person. And, while frustrated with some of his flaws, she saw that Haida was fundamentally kind, mostly easy-going, and extremely dependable when she needed a friend. Maybe not as exciting as Tadano, or seemingly mysterious as the Space Cadet, but Haida was an ideal long-term partner. Retsuko just had to grow up a bit to see it.
And that message isn't for Nice Guys. Remember that the Aggretsuko brand was made specifically for us-- young, disillusioned women in our 20s who needed something a bit more relatable than, though just as cute as, Hello Kitty. And as someone who's been with a *lot* of dudes, the message rings true: compatibility doesn't lie in excitement. And while we should make our voices heard, the world will also feel like a much kinder place when we see everyone around us as human beings instead of caricatures or tropes. This also explains the lack of focus on Retsuko for the last few penultimate seasons; she had a HUGE arc accomplishment when she finally gave Haida a chance. Not for him, but for *her*. Being someone actively looking for a long-term partner, Retsuko's mental state and worldview was almost always reflected in one way or another by the man/ men she was dating in each season. Including the Otome men who made her broke. When she was finally able to cut through her own excuses for not giving a perfectly great potential partner an honest try, knowing that he could provide everything she truly wanted and needed, Retsuko broke through the last hang-up on her main character arc of the show: accepting reality. And these last few seasons, while she isn't perfect, she still maintains that development as she's slower to rage at little things, is still vocal about her wants and needs, and sees almost everyone around her as a necessary piece to the life she enjoys. She's found an amazing balance.
And as for Haida-- we're seeing a mostly static, already seemingly well-rounded character have his own arc. The important thing, I think, is that Retsuko isn't *responsible* for Haida's growth and development, even if she sometimes feels like she is bc she cares so much. Haida ultimately comes to his own conclusions, fosters his own growth, and works hard with the motivation of being a worthy partner for Retsuko. It's not the fantasy of him being the Perfect Man for their entire relationship, or somehow rescuing Retsuko from the issues she began the show with, but their relationship is mutually supportive and insanely healthy. And ykw...healthy is boring 😂 I saw someone saying "they don't do couple stuff", like what did they expect? Good relationships are boring and functional, and that is what Retsuko and Haida are. We can write fluffy, spicy, or angsty fanfic to fill in the gaps. But making their relationship more "interesting" would serve no purpose to the story. Though ofc, I wouldn't complain over a tag-team karaoke rage at Haida's dad, lol. (But even that didn't happen bc of great character development, bc being healthy and well-adjusted is.....say it with me.....boring 😂😂😂).
All of this to say: OP you're right and you should say it!!!
SO Ive seen several people say that Haida and Retsuko's relationship dident work this season due to their poor relationship skills and miscommunication. But I would argue that their relationship does work.
It works in that even after the two-way lying and miscomunication and tax fraud, their relationship still stands.
You guys have to remember that being in a relationship -- a true relationship -- is a big fucking hurdle to jump through. Yes, Retsuko had been in other relationships before, but this the first true relationship that has had any weight to it.
Throughout the 4 seasons we saw Retsuko's other relationships crumble to dust over the tiniest things.
Retsuke was a unmotivated wet napkin of a person and when he didn't commit to the relationship that Retsuko wanted, Retsuko told him and broke it off.
Tadano was a good egg, but Retsuko ultimately discovered that both Tadano and herself had conflicting future relationship goals --Retsuko wanted to get married and start a family, but Tadano wasn't interested in getting tied down (he said so himself, he though that marriage was a waste of time, and that hurt retsuko because one of her dreams through the entire series was to get married and settledown to have a family)
and the same thing happens with Haida and Inui. Like, they were a very cute couple and possibly would have gone somewhere, but Haida's feelings for Retsuko would have (for lack of a better word) stained the relationship. Inui saw how much he loved Retsuko, and very maturely, decided that she couldn't compete for his affections. So like, she cuts it off before it begins. Like, knowing that your relationship would have gone down hill due to uncontrolable outside influences and then cutting it off before it could get worse is a mature thing to do.
Also I've seen someone say that Retsuko was passive about the entire tax fraud and I'm like???? she wasn't???? She knew very well that her boyfriend was keeping secrets from her, and when those secrets were confirmed that her boyfriend was doing company-wide tax fraud for the CEO, instead of taking it to the Japanese national news, she formulated a mission impossible heist plan with all of her co-workers in order to get the information needed to confirm that they were infact commiting tax fraud in order to get the CEo fired and then had a talk with her boyfriend about how what he was doing was wrong. Like, she took the step and called him out and that untimely gave Haida the confidence to step up to the CEO and call him out on his bullshit????
Like how is that passivity????
And everyone needs to know that Haida in the thick of it as well. Like his paranoia and fear wasn't something that came out of no where. Hadia said so himself that anyone else in the company had a fair chance of getting fired due to budget cuts and low profits, and so the pressure to succeed was growing. People were getting pressured to quiet left and right thanks to the new CEO. Mr. Tone was demoted then forced to quiet a job he really loved; Kabai was forced to quit as well from a job she really liked because everyone was making her feel worthless for having a family to take care of instead of being at work.
and when Haida showed that he had a good chance with his new accounting software to succeed and NOT get fired, he took that chance to rub elbows with the new CEO. And not only that, but thanks to the new CEO, the company was falling behind and had to commit tax fraud in order to stay afloat, and again DUE TO NOT WANTING TO BE FIRED AND DEEMED WORTHLESS TO THOSE AROUND HIM, Haida took up tax fraud in order to survive. On top of wanting the praise that he so badly needed. There were multiple times where Haida laments that Retsuko is on a whole new other level than him, and that he feels like he just one of the fanboys in the crowd. In the season, when he sees that Retsuko has restarted her screaming channel and has started growing back her following, that feeling comes back. He really does love Retsuko so much and wants to be where Retsuko is so badly but he feels as if none of what he's done in life fits with Retsuko's life.
Like, for christ sake, Retsuko is the ex-girlfriend to the aggretsuko version of Mark Zuckerberg who also one-hit-wonder pop idle star who nearly got murdered by an incel and Haida is a wanna-be British rock band bass guitar player who does accounting by day who still lives in his parents' apartment complex rent free (lucky bastard)
and on top of all that, there was Retsuko's lies. Like, his suspicion and jealousy was not unjustified??? Like, wouldn't you feel the same way if you saw your significant other lied in front of your face about what you were doing, arrive home in the fancy-ass limo of their ex-boyfriend and then notice that said ex-boyfriend FLIRTED BACK AT HER????? on top of using the pet nickname that he gave her when they were dating???? Like him calling Tadano out on his not-really-flirting-but-kind-of-is-flirting-flirting was no unjustified????
AND EVEN AFTER ALL OF THAT MESS OF DRAMA, THE END OF SEASON 4 CONFIRMS (though some would argue that its very ambiguous) THAT THEY'RE STILL IN A RELATIONSHIP. EVEN AFTER THE TAX FRAUD AND MISCOMUNICATION AND NEARLY THROWING YOUR SIGNIFICANT OUT THE WINDOW, THEY'RE STILL GOING OUT.
this is what Gori's soulmate app said about Haida and Retsuko. Even after so much shit, they're able to keep going to work on each other.
Aggrettsuko has stated that multiple times that romance is not a fairy tale, and that it takes work and that you may not get it right on the first time or the third time, but its good to keep working at it.
And Haida and Retsuko are working on it 🥺
#i have moments of distaste for haida at times too. but youre supposed to?#i feel the same way about retsuko. bc theyre characters with flaws and nuance. but like....motivation for those flaws!!#pacing-wise i would have enjoyed some fluffy respite of romcom hijinks before the Himura arc which had such high stakes#so the writing isnt perfect either here.#but overall its a lot of bad faith criticisms about the ship and the show itself#and im just like.....i see how yall maybe got some expectations of a more fantasy-oriented story#where Retsuko tells off her misogynistic boss.#rises to fame as the head of a girl group#gets with a young upstart tech guru#but each and every one of those scenarios ended with no payoff or horrific circumstances. on purpose.#and I feel like everyone with these particular criticisms about the show's direction are forgetting WHY none of those ventures worked out#and ignoring how Retsuko's character has changed FOR THE BETTER#maybe not entertainment-wise. but i watch it with a LOT of projecting onto Retsuko (bc shes a lot like me)#and her change in demeanor has delighted me. given me aspirations to be that way. im like “i wonder if therapy can make me be like her”.#like to all the haters YOURE MISSING THE POINT LMFAO#and i really liked how they deconstructed Haidas character as well. starting with his insecurity issues#and then working on his privilege#all the while Retsuko was supportive. but not playing therapist or doing any of Haida's tough shit for him.#this show is such a gift tbh and i wish folks would stop raining on parades#i came across many of these anti posts in the retsuko x haida tag. like what happened to shipping war truces??#long ass reblog though sorry 😅
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cw: angst, sex, best friend Simon using you after a break up, mentions of alcohol
Part 2 is now up! Click here.
Best friend Simon Riley showing up at your doorstep late at night. It had been raining, thundering even and you were just settling down to get to bed before hearing a knock.
You opened it quickly but also hesitantly due to how late it was and when you saw Simon stood there, clothes wet and eyes with tears threatening to spill. His cheeks slightly pink due to the cold weather, he must’ve rushed here quickly.
“Simon?” You asked quietly, but his lips quivered slightly his hand threading through his hair.
“She broke up with me, can I stay the night?” And all you did was open your arms, your own heart shattering for him. He’d been going out with this sweet girl for a while and as much as you hated it, you knew he loved her. The way he’d always call her, ‘just to check in’ when you’d hang out, the way he’d buy something from the store because it reminded him of her, he’d do anything for her.
She’d changed recently, been louder, more angry especially towards you. She disliked you and you knew that, hell so did Simon but he understood her reasons- something to do with a past relationship. Others had claimed she was bitter with you due to how similar you looked, you couldn’t see it though. You had the same body type and the same hair colour but other than that, you were nothing alike.
She had nothing to worry about, Simon loved her and you weren’t selfish enough to put your feelings for him first. She was just different recently and Simon knew something was up.
Your hand rubbed his back soothingly as he squeezed you in his arms. Needing something and someone to hold onto. He smelt of alcohol, he didn’t seem drunk but it was clear he’d been drinking. You pulled away from him shutting the door and faced back to him. His posture, his expression- he seemed a fucking mess.
You walked to the kitchen watching as he followed you, pouring him a glass of water but when too turned to face him he was cornering you to the counter, lips crashing on yours as he grabbed your face. The whiskey on his lips warning you to leave but his hold on you turned you to stone; the warmth making you stay.
“Please.” You knew what he was asking you for, you knew why and you should have declined. You wished you did but you didn’t.
Letting him have you on your bed, wincing as his body pinned you down, her name falling from his lips with cry’s. His whimpers echoing the walls while you waited with a blank face, waited for it to end. His eyes shut tight because he couldn’t stand looking into yours, she had a different eye colour. Tears were pouring from your eyes but you didn’t sob, your face didn’t crack from your dry expression.
You watched the blank, empty coloured ceiling move back and forth as he continued, finishing up and pulling out before falling asleep next to you. You’d let him do it because you loved him more than he knew. He’d wake tomorrow, apologies and move on because you’re both grown ups. This was just a one night stand, no feelings were involved because he didn’t have any for you.
Once his chest rose and fell, soft snores falling from his lips, you allowed your head to meet with your hands. Knees at your chin because you just wanted to go away, you were scared, cracked and crying. You didn’t sleep that night, you barely moved. You were a body to him, one he made his mind mistake for hers. You were a joke.
#call of duty#cod mw2#cod x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost simon riley#simon ghost x reader#cod smut#ghost smut#ghost call of duty#ghost mw2#mw2 ghost#simon ghost riley x you#ghost#ghost cod#simon riley#simon riley smut#simon riley x you#call of duty modern warfare#cod mw#cod x reader smut#cod modern warfare#cod mwii#cod#angst ig#angst#smut#dark smut
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Sunshine and Midnight Rain
Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!Reader
word count: 851
summary: Luke castellan and the daughter of apollos love story
a/n: “remember who the enemy is” IM TRYING
Luke Castellan held your heart since the day you met, and you held his.
You arrived at camp a few months after Luke. You were one of the lucky ones, claimed within an hour of being there. Your godly father is Apollo, god of poetry, the sun, music, narcissism, idiocy, stupidity, all that. You had assumed the gods would act superior to all, no matter if they were or weren’t. But Apollo was on a completely different level. You didn’t know why he had taken such a liking to you.
“You remind him of himself,” Your half sister, Kayla, had told you, “an archer who never misses, healer who fixes every wound, gifted singer, and somehow picked up the lyre in a day. And yet, you still ask why Apollo loves you the most?”
“I wish he wouldn’t,” you twirl the golden arrow he gifted you.
“y’know, that hermes boy has been staring since the moment you stepped foot here,” she smiles, nodding to the tan boy sitting on a picnic table.
“Great, more attention,” you keep your sights on the boy, lucas? Luca, maybe?
“His name’s luke castellan,” kayla says, ah luke, that’s it.
“He’s handsome,” you say matter of factly.
“Don’t trust those Hermes boys, all they do is lie,” Kayla leans back and rolls her eyes.
“It’s a good thing I play the lyre.”
——————
“You’ve got a great shot,” a deep voice says from behind you.
You’ve been at the range for around an hour, it’s 4:30, you always practice when no one else is around.
“The whole reason why I come out here this early is so i can be alone,” sure, it sounds mean but you swear you’re not trying to be.
“Sorry, once I see you it’s hard to look away,” you’re not looking at him but you can tell me has the biggest smirk on his face.
“Funny,” you tell him bluntly.
You set down your bow, keeping the arrow in your hand, and sit on the nearby grass. He lays down beside you, you follow his lead and put your hands behind your head.
“That arrow, it’s like it’s made of the sun,” He says amazed.
“A gift from dear old dad. No matter how far I shoot it’ll always come back. Supposed to be a sign of his love or something. But I think he just constantly wants me to be annoyed by him,” you inform him possibly too much.
“Most people would be grateful if their godly parent cares that much,” he says.
“It’s different with Apollo, there is no such thing as true altruism with him,” you bite your inner lip.
“I get that, I’m just tryna say- Hermes never showed up for me, and I'd kill to just have him tell me he cares,” His eyes furrow.
“Guess we both have different priorities,” you smile.
“Opposites work best don’t they?” He smiles back.
“Isn’t it opposites attract?” You wonder.
“Hey, your words, not mine,” he laughs.
“That one’s Orion,” You point up at the constellation.
“He was always my favorite,” he adds.
“Mine has always been Cassiopeia, but you can never see her over here,” You look back up at the sky.
“That one’s Taurus, and then Sirius below, and Gemini above,” you point each of them out.
Even though he hums in acknowledgment his eyes are locked on you.
“You’re staring, again” You mention.
“I told you I can’t help it, especially when you glow like that,” he reaches out and touches your face.
You reach out and grab his hand, running your fingers against his slender digits.
“I’d like to be a constellation when I die, maybe my father will fulfill that wish,” you say to him.
“That’ll be my last wish too, we can lay in the stars together.”
——————
It’s been a day since Percy Jackson came to Camp Half-blood. It just so happens to be your favorite day of the year, capture the flag. You have led the archers on the blue team for years, you’d say you’re doing well for what you’re given. Besides your siblings in Apollo the rest of the kids weren’t as gifted in archery.
As the first conch shell blew you were preparing for your mock-battle. Annabeth in charge of the plan and Percy, Luke with company, and you with the archers. You knew you could, no- would win. The archers took the trees, helping stray company from the skies.
“Today feels like a winning kind of day?” Annabeth asks luke.
“I’ll see you on the other side,” He smiles.
“Luke!” You pull him aside for a moment.
You cup his face the best you can through his armor. “You don’t get hurt okay? I don’t feel like healing anymore wounds from you. Understand?”
“Oh but I love to see you healing” he holds your hand and smirks
“Archers! Move out!” You call your team, eyes still locked with his, smiling.
“so… you and her?” Percy asks the taller boy.
“how could I not? She's perfect. I mean, I genuinely believe I could live without the sun if I just had her.”
And maybe, just maybe, he could.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x you#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#pjo#pjo series#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x y/n#pjo x reader#pjo x you
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Here it is guys! The 2025 Feveruary prompts! We wanted them to be more generally comfort focused so then they be able to be interpreted in different ways to allow you guys to be as creative as you’d like!
We’re so excited to share these with you and we can’t wait to see what you write! As always feel free to ask any questions or share your excitement about this event! :D
We'll post more about how to submit your work and the AO3 collection closer to the time! For now though, we wish you goodluck and happy writing!
Text Version Below:
“How did you end up like this?”
Burning Up then Freezing Cold
Caught in the Rain
Herbal Remedy
“Could you just hold me?”
Spoon-Feeding
“I’m still not used to being taken care of.”
“Couldn’t you keep your cold to yourself.”
Face Masks
“You’re safe, it was just a dream.”
“You’re burning up!”
Role Reversal – Medic to Sickie
“I wouldn’t even trust you to boil tea in your condition!”
Falling asleep in the wrong place
Guiding sickie back to bed
“Is it me or is it really warm in here?”
“I know you want to help but you’re only making things worse.”
Delirious
“I know ice cream is good for sore throats but that’s way too much!”
Lost Voice/Strep Throat
From better to worse
“Our date can wait! You’re far more important.”
“You need a tissue?”
“Don’t you think you should stay home today?”
Standing Vigil
“You sure I’m sick? Because I feel fine.”
Vacation Disaster
“Well, it sounds to me like you need a little bit of TLC.”
Alternates:
Forced to work
Cool wash cloth
"I don't get sick!"
Sneezing Fit
#feveruary#feveruary 2025#sickfic#prompts#prompt list#writing prompts#sickfic prompts#whump prompts#fluff prompts#writing event#sickfic event#fluff#whump#fanfiction#fanfic#feveruary prompts
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hrothtober day 17: safety!! i guess i'm stuck here for a bit…
#ffxiv#hrothgar#gpose#hrothtober#hrothtober 2022#i love rain!!#i just wish it wasn't basically invisible in gpose screenshots#it's way more visible here than in others i've taken though
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Made of ice
Jackson era! Joel Miller x F! Reader
Summary: One stormy night in the safety of Wyoming, it occurs to Joel that even though life has turned his heart into a slab of ice, there's a soft, melting spot buried deep inside... Only reserved for you.
Word count: 5.2k
Masterlist
Tags/warnings: MDNI, NSFW, implied age gap, canon-typical violence, Joel Miller needs his own warning, protective! Joel, soft! Joel, angst, fluff, smut, finger sucking, fingering, pet names, praise kink, language, no use of y/n, soft dom! Joel, negative thoughts, dea*h wish, self-doubt, self-confidence issues, Joel is a sweetheart here (but he doesn't think he's worthy of peace), rain, lots of rain, lightning, stormy weather, kinda established relationship, let me know if a tag has gone unnoticed.
Author's note: This is my very first attempt at writing for Joel Miller. I've had the idea in my mind for a few weeks now and it's hard to resist when it comes to him (did I say Pedro Pascal?) So I hope the details are accurate and if you decide to read this one shot, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it. If you want to be mutuals, I'll be more than glad <3
Divider by: saradika-graphics
Made of ice
You should've seen what you made of him.
The calm, slow beats in his chest are strikingly different from how he remembers them. In fact, he vaguely recalls the way those racing, dreadful patterns had carved themselves into his memory. With a rigid heart made of ice, it was nearly impossible to find the pulse in him, even at his most frightened, disappointed state.
Joel used to walk into the face of danger with a rifle clutched in his dying grip, a life to save and thousands to destroy, and in all those moments any sign of life was nonexistent in him. There used to be rage, hatred, regret, and frustration... Oh lots of frustration, running through the veins in his body. He used to walk, talk, and breathe. But he wasn't alive.
Now he doesn't find it in himself to call it miracle. But somewhere between the lines, you happened. You happened and fuelled the dying fire in the far corner of his heart. He used to keep it empty and dark, like a deserted house with no furniture, a perfect place for the noises in his head to become loud and maybe help him stand the never-ending days of what everyone called life.
You entered his life and now most of what he feels in these old veins is warmth, safety and attachment. Yes, he doesn't call it miracle, because his past doings are too stained and unforgivable to deserve a miracle. To deserve you. The real miracle. The fathomable idea of what it feels to be alive.
Joel feels alive.
Some days, it feels like his wretched past is clawing its way back into his mind, calling those demons to end his days of peace with you. Some nights, he's restless... So terribly restless. What if you get injured on your next patrol? What if the Raiders attack you when you're out of the gates of Jackson? What if something bad happens to you the moment his eyes close? What if these damn what ifs come to life? This old mind tricks him into seeing pictures of what has never happened and probably never will. You always assure him that you'll be careful. He trusts you and your abilities, but he does not trust his fears. Because if life is too good, it scares him.
It scares Joel Miller, way more than it would if he was trapped in a dark room with all of his fears and demons creeping on the cold hard floor towards him. He'd rather spend every day fighting off the Clickers and Raiders and every nasty threat out there, instead of pacing around the room and waiting to see if your patrols end well or not.
So he has no choice but to either convince Tommy to pick him as your patrol partner every damn time you have to do it – which he makes sure is as limited as possible – or occasionally keep an eye on you from a distance and let his thoughts consume him at the same time. Just like what he's doing now.
His persistence in being close to you tends to earn him annoyed eye rolls and "She's more capable than that, Joel." comments from his brother... almost all the time. But he simply can't help it, and he thinks that you know it. Because you never complain nor haul him over the coals for his instincts and worries and the immense amount of care his rigid heart feels for you. He's silently thankful for that understanding.
You are safe here, he thinks. Even though he feels restless, his heartbeat has never been this calm. He sits and watches you on nights like this and there's only one thought ringing in his head. All the scolding is worth it. You're sprawled out peacefully on the bed. His bed. It must be straight out of a fucking impossible dream. You're here, in his atmosphere, in his menacing, guilty, dark presence... And you have chosen it knowingly. It's all he can ever ask for.
The dim moonlight is swimming in through the curtains, casting a soft, silvery shadow over your face. Your hair is falling all around you like you're knowingly doing it... Posing for an artist just to paint this delicate beauty on a canva.
Despite his bitter mood, a content smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Tearing his gaze from you, he downs the remaining whiskey and silently places the empty glass on the table, deciding that he needs a short walk to free his troubled mind. One morning, Maria woke up and decided that Joel needs to stay behind and help Tommy in fixing the issues in the town's only library. So you should have another partner for your patrol days for god knows how long. He fucking hates being told what to do. He fought tooth and nail to prevent that, and if you weren't there to stop him, he would as well turn the mess hall into another ruin that needed to be fixed – which only meant more time away from you.
So it's going to take only two weeks, at worst. Only a terrible fortnight before things go back to normal. It's almost unbelievable how you have managed to awaken a sense of normalcy in him that he hasn't known in decades. Your absence is an instant threat to this normal life.
Maybe it's about time he gets used to it. He's not that weak. He shouldn't let his angers and worries run him. More importantly, he shouldn't ruin your much needed sleep with his usual problems right now. You've still got the weekend. He'll take a walk and be back here before you as much as stir in your deep slumber.
Oh. The damn library.
...
Jackson is eerily quiet in the middle of the night, enveloped by darkness and as isolated as it can be in this corner of the world. It's a stark contrast to how busy the whole community is during the daylight – bustling with happy greetings, careless jokes, movie days, small parties, and lots of work to do. It all asks for social interaction and he deeply hates it.
He hates when every passer-by's attention turns to you every time you step out in the open. He hates how prying eyes rove up and down your frame every time you walk into the bar. He hates how... He shakes his head, almost rolling his eyes at the loudness of these thoughts. Joel has to remind himself that he is the one you hold onto and introduce to everyone in every social gathering. The proud gleam in your eyes always placates him. There's no need to break a jaw in this town... Perhaps.
Lights flicker by the porches and the sound of his boots on the ground is the only sound that disturbs the silence. The sky is clouding over, distantly promising another stormy night in its gloomy wake. Occasional flashes of lightning light up the road and before Joel knows it, he's passing by the Tipsy Bison. It's 3 past midnight, no wonder why its doors are locked and closed. Either way he comes to a halt, letting the gears turn in his head as he opts for a very familiar path.
Your house. It's a short walk away from the bar.
Joel still recalls that day. How long has it been? Five, six, seven months? It feels like yesterday to him.
He'd had a terrible conversation with Tommy, not at all the way he'd planned it on his first day in Jackson. Things got heated up pretty quickly, leaving a bitter taste of rejection lingering on his tongue, the burn of the whiskey only worsening his mood.
"Just because life stopped for you, doesn't mean it has to stop for me..."
The words were ringing in his head as he stormed out of the bar. Shrugging his jacket on, all he wanted was to walk as far away from that area as possible. This affronted, begrudging, irrational sting was boiling in him and in that moment he was more than ready to leave the gates of Jackson even if it called for more danger. Life had really ended for him years ago, but to hear it from Tommy right after the hell he'd went through to find him... It really hurt.
The pain was resurfacing in rapid tides.
If his boots could dig deeper, get stuck in the snow and propel him into the cold biting blanket of the earth, he'd welcome it. If life had really ended for him, he had to make it make sense by ending himself as well. This... There was this distant melody echoing in the air and cutting through his troubled thoughts. The wind was harsh against his ears, and each step brought the melody closer.
It really could be the last song that played before his funeral.
Joel was surrounded by all the colors, and all he could see was white, eyes fixed on the ground. He didn't pay much attention as he bumped into someone. He barely lifted his head to apologize, and then his gaze settled on the crackling fire on the left side of the road.
Red and orange and yellow hues. It was a fresh contrast. His eyes were hurting from all the white snow.
He came to a halt, mindlessly waving at the person he'd bumped into. A dozen of kids had gathered around the burning logs in a barrel on the porch, rubbing their hands together and listening to the same melody he was entranced by. The same melody that he thought would be his burial hymn.
Joel's eyes followed their excited faces, wondering who they were looking at. He saw you mirroring their hopeful gleams first, and then he registered the guitar on your lap.
To make the matters worse, you had tilted your head, shooting him a funnily quizzical look. He might've looked weird back then. The town's newcomer, with a permanent scowl on his face, maybe plotting murder as well (considering that it was the main topic in all the words that already flew around about him).
He didn't answer, still dead in his tracks as if he was immobilized by some invisible force. So you shifted in your seat, silently offering him a spot among the children as if to say "You can come over and join us."
He had two choices in that moment, either a polite decline was on the table or a dismissive frown. He looked over his shoulder at the bar and finally opted for the third choice – or so his mind created another choice for him – and he nodded, joining in on your little gathering without as much as saying a word. He really wanted to hear that song.
He never asked whether you knew the words to that song, but that night when he lay in bed and his thoughts were far from the idea that he wanted to bury himself in the snow, he vaguely remembered the lyrics. And it hit him hard, like a punch to the gut.
Yeah, I don't want to hurt
There's so much in this world
To make me bleed
Stay with me
Let's just breathe
Stay with me
You're all I see
He wanted to ignore how the words affected him in the middle of the night. It was the first night he could feel some semblance of peace, not sleeping with an eye open in case someone attacked them. Ellie was safe in another room. So he really considered that. He considered the possibility of staying. He was relatively new to the community... And so damn unaccustomed to the whole arrangement. He almost woke up the next morning and started packing before he remembered where he was.
Stay with me
Let's just breathe
Those words stuck with him.
And his first encounter with you was a harbinger of different things to come.
One day of patrolling with you led to another, one night of inviting you for a drink led to another. One peaceful afternoon in the stable led to another. One gloomy evening in the clinic did not lead to another. He was way too protective of you to let that happen again.
He truly feels lucky. You could be anywhere else, better off if you picked anyone other than this grumpy, old man. And yet you still want him. You silly girl. You've melted his heart with your warmth.
But he's like a lake, deserted in the middle of a haunted forest and engulfed in coldness. Even though the center is warm and gooey, he keeps the surface frozen and rigid and menacing. Hard enough to keep his instincts sane and alarmed. Cold enough to let everyone know that you're his and he will not fucking share.
Lightning strikes again in the sky.
He lifts himself up and off your front stairs with a heavy grunt. An hour has passed since he left for a walk. The clouds have fully gathered in the sky and he thinks that he should be by your side now.
Joel really cares little for the details, always asking Tommy and Ellie to spare him the explanation and get straight to the point. But with you, it's hard to forget a couple of things. One night, a few weeks ago, you were pulling him past the threshold of your house. So adorably drunk and inviting. He was still a little pissed by how the rainstorm had ruined your nightly walk. Despite your complaints about sharing a kiss in the rain, he'd dragged you back to the nearest shelter possible, because he just didn't want to get fucking soaked. Joel didn't find it romantic at all. He was frowning, still pinning you against the wall for a begrudgingly needy kiss. You giggled into his mouth, playful fingers pocking at his chest. "Come on Joel. Let yourself enjoy it... All these neverending drops on the roof, the fresh earthy scent that comes after it... It's just really beautiful. One of the few things that kept me sane before I came here..."
He's not really against the idea. But the changing weather doesn't bode well with him. One day is sunny, and the next is rainy and it just goes to show how he has no power over the situation.
Hell. A part of Joel is really terrified of the changing weather. One day it was scorching hot, and the next his boots crunched against the white blankets of neverending snow, reprimanding him for his carelessness. Time would pass whether he wanted to or not. He is still terrified, wishing he could stretch the time he could spend with you. God knows he wants an eternity with you.
He has seen enough rain for a lifetime. He hasn't seen you enough. How could he enjoy getting soaked in tiny drops of water when all he wanted was to bury his face in the crook of your neck and stay there for a while – maybe forever and a little more?
But he has considered it since then. If there are a few things that keep you happy and rainy days have to be one of them, he'll give you that. He'll get used to that. There's no pattern with the rainfall in here, and the weather forecast is pretty much nonexistent. He has promised himself to tell you whenever it rains, even though he despises the idea of you catching a cold after minutes or hours of dancing in the cold, letting droplets of water wash over you without a care in this wretched world.
He also despises the idea of waking you up.
But he knows you'll like it. You careless, adorable girl. He lives to see that excited gleam in your eyes. Everytime you show it, this old heart pounds impatiently in his chest and it all feels like the first time it has happened.
He's back home in no time.
So, kicking his boots off as silently as possible, he trudges over and settles down by the edge of the bed, suppressing a low groan. His knees still ache from all the never-ending effort he's put in repairing the library over the past few days. Jesus, he just wants it to be done as soon as possible. It feels like he's losing so much time when he's away from you. Now that you're still pretty much asleep in the same position he last saw you, all Joel wants is to lie down by your side and melt in your warm embrace instead of having to fight with his thoughts and the world to not take away yet another precious piece of him. He can't afford to even think about losing you.
Each flash of lightning illuminates the contours of your beautiful face and he can't help himself when he lifts a hand and lets his knuckles gently stroke your cheek. Your lips are parted ever so slightly and you look so innocent in your unconscious dream. He almost backs down, part of him hoping that it rains throughout the day, just so he doesn't guilt trip himself for the pout on your face if you miss it. You need to rest.
As if you sense his hesitation, you stir in bed and lean into his touch. A low hum escapes you, and Joel is too weak to deny himself the softness it brings. His wounded knuckles are soon replaced with a calloused thumb and he wonders what's so interesting about these hands that never ceases to catch your attention.
One night at the bar, Joel had caught you actually staring at them and when he teased you a little about it, you just shrugged and grinned mischievously. "I mean... I just like them so much. Your hands are always warm, and... and that's all."
He shrugged it off that night. Ellie had also considered it a flex for him to have warm hands even in the coldest days of winter, but with you and the way you looked at him... It was different. He knew it was more than that.
And when the nights he shared with you went further than his sinful thoughts had planned, you showed him that it was more than that. It was more than the warmth you found there. If anything, your helpless whimpers were an indication of how capable and strong these hands were.
Heat blooms in his chest. It simply is endearing. The way you always seem to recognize his touch and send his head spiraling with the idea that you want him to do more. You've never been afraid of him. You've never pushed him away. You've never judged him for the horrible things he's done. Jesus, it should terrify him. Joel should've pushed you away at some point, because he knows you'd be better off without him, but how could he muster the strength to do so? Since that fateful moment on your porch, your presence keeps on inviting him for more. More than simply existing. And God, if you knew how he wants to do more than that every second of the day... Only if the world lets him breathe a little.
There's another bolt of lightning and raindrops finally begin to drum against the window pane.
Joel shakes his head to get rid of those worrisome ideas. Propping himself on one elbow, he leans over ever so slightly and lets his thumb trace its way to your chin, up to your jawline, and then back to the soft skin on your cheek. He draws circles over the blooming flush and then his thumb is traveling down to your lower lip. Your mouth parts just a little more, breathing even and content and if he gets a grip on himself, he may notice that there's a ghost of a smile in there as well.
"Baby..." He whispers softly, his gaze drifting all over your adorable face. You really are a piece of art, tangled in the sheets, in the safety of his house, and your innocent hums are doing something to him. Some obscene voice that silently pleads for more. More and more... Just to give you more.
You stir a little more.
He leans over and places a gentle kiss on your forehead, the sweet, fruity scent he's come to like a lot about you engulfing his senses. He watches every little movement with amusement. "My sweet baby... You want to see what's waitin' for you outside."
"Joel," you mumble sleepily, voice drowsy and laced with a hint of confusion as you rub your eyes and stretch your arms before looking around the dark room with a quizzical expression on your face. It doesn't take long for the realization to hit you and the familiar gleam in your gaze makes him smile. You stare a him, wide-eyed. "Is it- again?"
He chuckles and gestures at the window. "Yes, a heavy one at that."
Again, there's that hum of delight as you follow his gaze. The pitter-patter of the rain cheers you up like a lollipop would do to a child. It's maddeningly adorable.
You should be running to the backyard by now, but instead you stare at him for a while. It's his turn to be confused. Your smile gets broader by each passing second as your delicate hands trace his face and run over the salt and pepper patches of his beard. When you playfully ruffle his hair, your eyes are still droopy and dreamy and so damn kissable that he just can't help himself.
His other hand fondles with a loose strand of hair beside you on the pillow before twirling it between his fingers. You bite your lower lip and lift your head just enough for a brief peck on the tip of his nose. He chuckles, letting his fingers draw a line over the column of your neck, down to your chest, and at last they disappear beneath the sheets, settling comfortably on the warm expanse of your belly.
Joel assumes that his presence is not too close to lock you in place, and yet not too loose to let you drift back into unconsciousness. You just have the perfect moment to escape. For goodness sake, rain is the one thing you choose over anything else. The thing you like a lot.
But you're still here, dazed eyes flickering all over his face and it just gives him a second thought. A new idea to test your patience. Seeing you still pinned under him and unmoving, was not really in his list when he decided to walk back home and wake you up. He chortles with amusement. If you want what he thinks you do, he could give you that... "Come on sweetheart, what's stoppin' you?"
His fingers drift lower, exploring the bare flesh of your thigh, right where his mouth was hours ago. Still as warm as he remembers, maybe a little bruised too. "It's all rainy outside. Ain't that what you wanted?"
"I know..." You mumble, an undertone of need sewn in your voice as you look down over the sheets that cover every movement of his hand. It's too dark for you to see anything anyway. He could easily toss the covers aside, but it's wickedly satisfying this way. "I'm- um, just feeling a little under the influence...and it's- uh, it's distracting."
His hand caresses its way to where he knows you need it the most, and you barely repress a shudder when his fingertips glide over your folds. But he barely feels you, a ghost of a touch hovering there as a smirk threatens to flicker at the corner of his mouth.
"Wonder if my hand's makin' a good influence or a bad one. What d'you say, baby?"
It pelts down steadily outside, but you don't seem to care the slightest about it. Neither does Joel. A low gasp emanates from you when his touch becomes proper, rubbing circles and spreading the slick over your clit as slow and unrushed as he physically can manage. You're still indecently wet after he'd brought you over the edge again and again before you dozed off... and the fact that some of his cum might be gathering in his hand is fueling his lewd thoughts.
You naughty girl.
"A very bad one, I see." He tuts, feeling your chest heaving up and down beneath him. It's easy to rile you up this way. Desperation is written in your expression... and he hasn't even started yet.
"She needs fixin', doesn't she?" Joel asks, bringing his movement to a sudden halt. You're too distracted by everything he does to form a coherent thought. He lifts an expectant brow, now actually waiting for an answer.
"Yes- yes Joel... need it so bad... so bad it hurts." You breathe, a helpless pout forming on your lips.
"I know baby. I know... Jus' lay down and let me take care of it, hm? How's that sound?" He demands again, but this time he doesn't give you a chance to respond as he pushes two fingers past your weeping hole, burying them knuckles deep within your warmth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, eyelids heavy as you grasp his arm, squirming like a helpless, needy girl.
What a cruel man he is.
"Not off to a good start, angel. I know you can be more patient."
You nod quickly, biting your lip in an attempt to stop yourself from wriggling and twisting on the bed. For a split second, Joel considers pulling out to nuzzle his face between your legs and let the heat consume him. A perfect place to brave the cold, restless seasons.
But his fingers aren't shy either. He starts with slow thrusts, effortlessly sliding in and out before picking up the pace. He makes you adjust to his rhythm, and when you let go and open up, the obscene moans and chocked out cries are all that fill the silence of the house. Jesus, he lives to hear them every day. He rewards you by curling his fingertips to hit that spot that makes you see stars.
You shudder particularly hard at that, more arousal pooling inside you and soaking his fingers. You're losing your grip with reality, and he can sense it as your legs begin to shake and your knee brushes over the denim of his jeans, but you still remember to abide by his "No squirming" rule.
You're so pliant and obedient in his hands that it does nothing but to spur Joel to give you more. And so he does.
"I like these sounds," He adds a third finger, tilting his head to whisper in your ear. "I dream about them all the time."
You whimper and tighten your hold around Joel's arm. When he feels that your orgasm is creeping impossibly close, his thumb joins and rubs rapid circles over your bundle of nerves and that's your undoing. You clench around him, walls tightening and squeezing his fingers deeper – if that's even possible – as waves of white-hot euphoria crash over your worn-out body and take over your senses. Your back arches involuntarily into him. A sound between a groan and a curse escapes his throat.
"That's it. Atta girl... that's it, so fuckin' beautiful."
His touch is unrelenting as he talks you through it with a string of sweet nothings.
Only when you come down and rest back on the bed he slowly pulls out. You're panting heavily, face flushed and heated and so effortlessly seductive that Joel is sure no fucking artist could ever capture it in words of a poem or colors of a painting. Joel is the only one to witness this moment and it swells his chest with pride. He wants to drink it in, let it run through his veins like never-ending liquor.
He lifts his hand, smirking as you gape at the way it's glistening under the dim light. You're in awe. He softly places the tips between your swollen lips and you waste no time in swirling your tongue around them, licking the slick off as if it's a delightful lollipop. And the hazy look on your face says that it's more than just a sweet treat.
His own breathing hitches when you open your mouth a little wider and take him fully in, sucking and humming and driving him absolutely crazy. He shakes his head slightly, catching the playful gleam in your gaze.
"Hm. Still a very bad influence."
When you're fully recovered and satisfied, Joel lifts you up in his arms and walks towards the backyard, chuckling at your confused expression. You give a squeal and wrap your hands around his neck to keep yourself steady, at the same time trying to gauge what his next plan would be. You really have forgotten about the rain, haven't you?
He comes to a halt, making sure the blanket he'd just picked off the bed is not leaving any part of your body uncovered. The rainstorm has eased off considerably over the past hour, but he doesn't want to risk it. Keeping you warm and safe in the cold is and will always be his top priority, no matter if his back or knees protest from how much they ache. Hell, he aches for you and that content smile on your face. Nothing beats it.
"My girl still wants to go out, hm?"
Your eyes flicker between him and the half-open door, filled with excitement and delight and a tiny flicker of doubt. "Yes Joel... but...you sure you want to join in?"
"I don't know," He feigns innocence, pretending to think for a short while before his face lights up with an idea. "Do I get a kiss for it?"
You laugh and lean up to press your lips into his in a soft, lingering kiss. It's so tender and reassuring that he has to pull back before changing his mind and taking you back to the bed.
"Then it's settled."
It has been settled for a long time.
Maybe he can get used to it. Maybe you get a better idea of what you've made of him with your presence at times when he easily complies with things that make you happy. A heart made of ice, molten enough to experience the world with you all over again. Even if he gets soaked in the rain, he's alright with it. You kiss him and all the discomfort is forgotten.
He should give it time and learn to breathe again. Learn to stay, to settle. To let you know that you're all he sees.
Yeah, I don't want to hurt
There's so much in this world
To make me bleed
Stay with me
Let's just breathe
Stay with me
You're all I see
The words are carved in his head. He chances a glance at the living room before walking past the door. Your guitar is placed on the couch. Maybe one day he'll bring himself to play his melodies for you too. He thinks that he's got a lot of time for it now. He wants an eternity with you, and in this wretched world, eternity lasts as long as you'll have him.
One, two... Ten droplets fall over him. He kisses you again, harder and longer. His ice-cold heart melts just a little more at your careless laughter. Just stay with me.
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller one shot#the last of us#joel miller smut#tommy miller#ellie miller#pedro pascal characters#joel miller fluff#joel miller angst
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The Water You Drown
Pairing: Shadow! Azul Ashengrotto x Reader x Jade Leech
Summary: Your beloved husband has died, leaving you to be wedded to his friend due to a suspicious contract. No amount of insults seems to deter Jade from wiggling his affections into your every waking moment. In your grief, you miss Azul, but it seems his shadow misses you even more, doing whatever it takes to make you drown with him. [9k words]
Inspired by : @merakiui Shadow Azul & Morros fic!
Warnings: [ Yandere ], Kissing, Implied imprisonment, Contractual marriages, Regency Era, Tentacles, Harm to reader, Violent threats (To Jade), GN!Reader but there are references to pregnancy, All characters in their mid 20’s, Accusations of cheating, Mentions of nsfw, Desperate Reader, Unhealthy behaviors, Made up monster, Overblot Azul, Suggestive at the end, Some angst
You stand atop your once-alive husband, the pristine stone darkening with each raindrop that lands on its surface. Leaning down, your fingers gently trace over the letters with adoration, a sense of grief washing over you.
The rain is cold, but the feeling of mourning has always been even colder.
When you finish grazing the engravement, you draw a heart with your fingertip.
In loving Memory, Azul Ashengrotto, Beloved husband and friend
You slowly stand to your full height, dusting off dirt from your lap, you let the rain hit you, each droplet increasing in strength. Yet, you don’t have the will in you to cover yourself, deeply believing, or rather… hoping, that this rain is Azuls spirit reaching out to you from beyond the grave.
A gentle smile grazes your lips, yes, this must be him. He always insisted you visit the sea with him. You never did agree though, having duties to tend to day in and day out. But, you close your eyes, imagining each assault on your skin to be sea water splashing you.
This visage is broken when the rain suddenly pauses, a gentle hand finding its place on your shoulder. Gentle, yet you can’t help but find this man's touch akin to a rose’s thorn.
“It’s cold, perhaps you should find solace in our house, Mrs.Leech?” you don’t open your eyes, continuing to bask in the sound of hushed splashes. You allow for Jade's suggestion to go unanswered, your newly found fiance only laughing at the silence.
A fiance you never wished for. You were thrust into his possession due to Azuls will, a letter stating his last wish to be his right hand taking his place as your lover.
Why would he ever wish for such a thing? You thought he loved you, lavishing you in desires so sought over just to make you happy… Why would he ever promise you to such a… Deceitful man?
Yet, you can’t argue. The contract was composed entirely of Azuls writing, his signature only further instilling this truth.
“No, I should like to stay.” you finally peek through your eyelids, glancing at Jade before turning to his gloved limb, firmly swiping him off you, dusting the area off as if a pest had been there. But that’s not too far from the truth, is it?
“Is that so? But, it is cold. You will garner illness.”
“I said no, forgive me my lord but must you stay here? I wish for mourning towards my husband.”
“Dear, he is not your husband, I am. Surely,” he pauses, another one of his gratingly deep chuckles wafting the clean air, “You cannot be promised to a dead man.”
“He is not dead.” He is, but you won’t give him the satisfaction of giving up your beloved husband.
“I assure you, any man buried in the ground Is considered dead.” Jade continues, his smiling seeming ever continuous like his muscles have contracted to forever hold their shape.
“Ah, so you will be dead very soon, how wondrous!” you promised since Azuls death you would never smile for another man, but promises aren’t as binding as curses are they?
“If it is you who puts me under, I believe I’ll die a happy man.”
“… You have sullied this moment.”
“Don’t worry, I shall love you forevermore, even if you may have been ruined by another man.” his smile still doesn’t falter. If you could, you would jump at the chance to cut up his pretty face.
Alas, such wants can never be fulfilled because if it is true Azul wished for you to be with his… Right-hand man (Though you’re not too sure as Azul would complain about his unique persona day in and out) then… you should wish to be with Jade as well.
Because you love Azul. Ever since you were arranged to marry him. Well, at least you think that’s the case.
You reply to his retort with but a sigh, turning back to look solemnly at the words etched into stone, a cruel reminder of the man you once had.
Jade sticks his arm out, signaling you to interlock yours with his own, but this act is met with a huff. Your shoes click against the pavement as you speed away, uncaring for the rain that falls into your eyes, the liquid only further covering the tears you’ve shed.
It has only been a few months, but you can tell it will feel like centuries.
You endlessly toss and turn in the sheets of your bed, the unnerving hand of the slimy man… no eel. He must be one with how slimy he is curling around your waist. He’s pulling you in with a strength so ironclad you can’t pull away.
It’s unfortunate when you get home from the cemetery, the separate bed you had arranged in a room far far away from Jades, had been mysteriously tossed away. Jade claims a peg must’ve been lost, as when he came home the mattress had been tilted.
It’s a lie, you checked your bedding the morning of and no such thing existed.
”Am I some sort of commodity? Why won’t this man unhand me...?!” You’re sure this leech is awake, you haven’t been whispering any of your words.
You stop fighting his grasp, only loosely relaxing in his hold, yet not at all. Your eyes are fixated on one object, and one object alone.
A shell necklace made of pure gold.
Its light glimmers in the dark, a stark contrast to the everlasting black you find yourself in.
Soft snores finally begin to resonate through your room, a signal to Jade's final slumber. But, you’ve lost all will to escape him, you’re too tired and grieved to do such a thing. It’s only when you blink do you realize you still have tears left to cry.
“Azul…” Your words are hushed, so much so not even a mouse could hear your pleas. “Why must you have gone to sea… Was I not equal to the worth of land you bought?” your fingers reach up to wipe your tears, before pausing.
The necklace is no longer there.
The shock must’ve been the reason you needed to break free from Jade, as the sight immediately has you breaking his arms apart with a newfound determination.
It’s improper to bed out of bed with your sleepwear only, but you do not care, at this point, you’d much be naked than without that necklace.
“Are you looking for something? I believe I had all of Azuls stuff moved to a storage building of mine.” What? How would he even know you were looking for…? It doesn’t matter.
“No, I lost… Never mind go back to sleep you rake.”
“I believe I am plenty married.” He leans up from the bed, the blanket falling off and revealing his bare torso.
“Is that so? I feel horrible for your spouse.”
“Self-pity isn’t good for one’s health.” You scoff at his words before lighting a candle, not daring to answer his obvious jabs at your conscience. You leave the room without a sound, wandering the halls of the newfound house you find yourself in.
Each wall looks the same, obnoxiously elegant. At this rate, you’ll never find the whereabouts of that—
A quick shadow passes your peripherals, a gust of wind blowing your nightwear into the air, and in turn, the light of your candle.
“Who’s there? If it’s you, Floyd, I already told you I don’t want to wed you, and neither did I wish to be wedded to Jade!” No answer, only the sound of slimy liquid splashing.
Slimy liquids?
You turn the corner quickly, not even bracing yourself for whatever possible sight could appear. Yet, your lack of awareness is lucked out, all that’s left is a golden coin, one part of Azul's special collection. There was nothing special about it however, if anything, it is one of the few antiques that are essentially worthless.
But he found riches in the sole pence simply because you picked it up, claiming it to be luck.
You lean down with your fingers, picking the coin up with a certain care. It is still as pretty as the day you found it.
“Mine.” The voice immediately makes your shoulders tense, not daring to look back at its owner. The voice is aquatic, a certain echo sounding like the creature is underwater.
Should you run? Do you run? All these suggestions that should be commands run rampant through your mind, but the feeling of a wet tentacle wrapping its suction cups around your waist halts all ideas.
“Mine. You have something that is mine.” The coin, it must be the coin. You don’t turn your head, keeping your eyes pinned on the imaginary target on your floors. You lift your hand, the pence wedged between your fingers.
“Here, it’s…” you realize something. This piece… Your necklace is gone, who knows where it’s gone? This antique, you must keep it. “Not yours.”
“I wasn’t talking about the coin,” The voice that comes out this time is not nearly as echoed, the sound coming out the clearest it’s ever been. “Angelfish.”
It can’t… not it’s not…! But what if it…?
You look down at the dark shadow matter that holds your waist, a second one coming to wrap around your thighs underneath your nightwear. No… your Azul was never a shadow…!
“My husband was… is human, you can not be him.” The tentacles increase their grip on your skin.
“Don’t say such mean things dear, you’ll hurt my feelings.” It’s only when the feeling of hair tickling your face, and a pair of real hands wrap around your waist in tandem with the tentacles, do you smell something so familiar.
Sea salt.
Your head finally turns around, your eyes making contact with the man you’ve missed so much.
“Azul.” He looks different, no… He is different. There are faint traces of purple on his transparent body. Several tentacles flail about behind him, all seeming to have a mind of their own. But the most noticeable thing is his change in size, he’s practically three times bigger than before.
Yet, you think it’s Azul.
“My, is my charm still as captivating as it was when we wedded?” it takes you a while to register the fact you're feet are no longer touching the ground, your bottom half cold and wet as you sit on his thick tendrils. “I hope so, you’re still just as incomparable.”
You feel yourself struggle in balance with the continuous moving of his muscles, your hands finding refuge on his neck as you hug him tightly, the fear of falling being your sole reason.
“Azul, I do not wish to perish so soon…! Please… please put me down…!”
“So you can return to your new half?” there’s a certain firmness in his voice when he replies, a tone that was previously not there. “Have you moved on so quickly? I am still here and alive if you can’t see.” those words… Does this false image of Azul believe you to be baggage?
“Pardon? I know not what you speak. I have never exchanged whispers with that… that…! Conniving eel!”
“Calm down dear, I know that. You would never.”
“Yes, I would never.” you parrot. But, there’s a certain ache that is realized inside you, taking the form of an even bigger pain when you utter the words you say. “But, I must return soon.”
“You said you wouldn’t.”
“I never said that.” It’s the unfortunate truth, to have to tuck yourself back into the bedside of a man you don’t love. It makes you wonder though, why did he jump to marrying you?
You’re not broke, if you were, your marriage to Azul would’ve never come to be. But, you’re not rich either. If rumors you’ve heard hold truth, Jade was meant to marry someone with far greater wealth than you.
So why…?
“I see,” Azul utters with hushed breath. You sigh with relief, ready to thank him with the happiest of smiles.
“Thank you. Do not worry I shall return Azul—“
“No.”
…
Huh?
Transparent tendrils grow behind him, swiftly making their way towards your face. The suction cups gently graze your cheek before pulling away, confusion evident on your face. His face is dark, not from the shadows that shroud him, the expression on his face.
A blissful smile.
The last thing you feel is the hardwood against your head.
The lone duke reaches to his side, his hands groggily searching for the body of his dearly, though you wouldn’t agree, beloved. His eyes peek open when there’s nothing to grasp.
He wakes to an empty bedside, but he’s more so bothered by the lack of a warm body in his arms. Have you not returned from your midnight excursion? How interesting, he recalls a distant (not at all distant, in truth, only yesterday) memory of your preference to sleep as much as possible.
“Why must you wake me so early? I prefer staying in slumber to never see your horribly handsome face.”
“Oh? You think me handsome?”
“Unfortunately, but it’s all the better when I smuggle that pretty accessory with a pillow.”
“My my, please wait till we have an heir in you.”
“… I despise how you turn my acts of violence into such crude subjects.”
He upturns from the bed, groggily blinking with exhaustion only you’ve been present to witness. It’s one of the few moments he’s unguarded and not accompanied by a cunning smile.
He looks out the window and realizes, it’s still night, but the coming of day emerges with the lightening blue sky. He can’t help but wonder, where are you?
You could be downstairs, preparing food for yourself (You never did enjoy tasking his servants despite their willingness to assist you.), or maybe you’ve taken a stroll in his gardens. No, that’s not it… you claim his mushrooms to be a disturbing sight (He knows you’re only saying that to attack his heart. He sees you secretly tending to the fungi when he does not have the chance.).
Or perhaps you’ve run away. He certainly can’t have that.
He throws the covers off, walking to his closet, and allowing his naked torso to be covered with a dress shirt. He opens his door, a vigor in his lighting. This determination extinguishes when he spots you on the floor, your nightwear disheveled with circular bruises imprinted on your skin.
His lithe frame slows him to reach you in a few steps, scooping your unconscious body into his arms effortlessly. A low whisper sounds from behind him, threatening yet the way the voice trails is akin to a corrupt spirit.
“Jade… You…” He turns, his mismatched eyes locking with the vicinity he heard it from. But there’s nothing to be seen, only a pathetically desolate corner of the room.
At least, that’s what he’ll tell you. He knows he won’t ever mention to you the dark shadow that glares at him from a corner before disappearing.
He can’t help but feel that envied voice sounding much too familiar to his late friend.
It’s been a week since you last saw the shadow that calls itself your Azul.
You’re conflicted on whether he’s telling the truth and he is indeed your late husband who’s come from beyond the grave. He has the coin he’s always treasured. It’s the same one, down to the tiny scratches on its surface.
You know it’s not just your thoughts playing tricks on you either, the dark marks on your thighs and arms are proof enough.
You’re not sure when Jade found you, but you’re sure it’s when he found you, that “Azul” had disappeared. Is he perhaps a creature only you can see? No matter how much you ask Jade about what he saw, he refuses to divulge any details to you.
Goodness, you’ve even stooped to bargaining and begging! Entirely unbefit to someone in your position.
“Please. You must. I beg of you.”
“Your pleas are far sweeter than any wine I’ve tasted.” You wince at his words, stressing your face to not show any signs of distaste.
“… I will willingly stroll the town with you.”
“I see. I agree to your terms.” For once, and the only time, you smile at Jade, taking his hands in yours and lifting them to your cheek with the countenance of a true lover rather than an arranged one.
“So what do you know from the night of? Did you witness it? Hear it? You must tell me!”
“I know nothing. There was only a bug.” You roughly throw his hands away from your body, brushing him off like a leech.
“I wish to be married to the man who was courting me before you. Can I? It must not be too late.” Riddle, a bright suitor. He was kind to you. You like him much more than this man.
“Ah, Rosehearts, a fine choice. Unfortunately, you’re not wealthy enough for his mother, and married, twice.” You slouch back in your chair, a form utterly lacking in grace. All the servants will be sure to whisper of your strained relationship with the Duke.
“At this point, the Leech family will have to use that mad twin of his for an heir, the Floyd mister. Those two will never consummate…”
A sudden clatter of plates catches both of your focus, your heads turning in unison to look at the shattered porcelain on the ground. You’re unsure if Jade catches it, but the faint trace of shadow tells you exactly who caused the ruckus.
“You’re unbearable countenance has left me ill. I’m taking my leave.” For once, Jade doesn’t reply to you with a witty comeback. This shift makes you wonder if you should be more worried about that rather than “Azul”, but you refrain from asking.
You sneak away from Jade's grasp in the night, closing the door with a silence that seems impossible. The lights are the only illumination besides the moon's rays.
“Azul? Are you here? I’m… not mad about last time. Please come out to me.”
Silence.
You clasp your hands, sitting on the cold flooring of the house, a shiver going down your spine. A makeshift protest it is, you will sit here for hours until this thing reveals itself to you.
“You never liked it when I slept. So, I shall dream right here” You feel foolish for this display. Not even so much as a tentacle reaches out to you. Are you doing this for nothing? Is there no point—
A sudden tendril emerges from the wall behind you, finding its place on your waist before the rest of them takes hold of other parts of your body. Your weight is once again lifted in the air, cradled in a heap of muscle.
“Shall I help you wake?”
So his words are lies. This is not the Azul you know and love. Even in moments where he struggled to pass into dreams, he always made an effort to lull you to bed.
…
“Azul… It’s okay. The servants are sleeping, we shouldn't disturb them.” You rub your heavy eyes, and despite their weight, they just can’t allow you to sleep peacefully, even in the comfort of your mattress. You lean up, ready to leave the bed.
“Then I’ll serve you tonight.” your husband's voice is soft as if he isn't nearly as tired as you. No… he’s even more exhausted. He can hide it but you’ve engraved his being into your soul. Azul follows in your wake, the blanket falling down his form as he leans on his elbows.
Plus, he tends to snack late at night when he can’t sleep. The several tiny empty plates tell you all you need to know.
“That’s unneeded.” you place your hand on his chest, tenderly laying him back onto the bedding.
“Most needed.” he grabs your hand and sits back up again. “Seeing you well is a comfort. You want me to sleep as well right? I’ll only do so if you fall first.” truly… your husband is much too clingy.
…
Despite the hue of night outside your window, the harsh hail that drops from the sky reminds you of your entrapment. If you could leave this beast, would you even be able to leave this house?
This version of Azul has closed the distance between you two, his glowing cerulean eyes staring deep into yours. You’d confuse the hand that cups your cheek for Azuls if it wasn’t so cold.
“I was kidding angelfish, I could never allow you to harm yourself in such a way.” You’re able to control your face despite the shock. So then is he your Azul or not? It’s too late when you finally look to the side. Grotesque tentacles surround you from all sides, essentially trapping you to the floor.
But the thought of Azul distracts you from the impending danger. You should care, you really should in the scenario this isn’t your husband. But the tiny sliver of hope that emerges feeds into your delusions.
“Don’t cry.” You didn’t know you were. Azul hushes your sniffles, petting your head as he brings you into his chest. “There will be no tears for you to shed when we leave here.” Neither do you know what he speaks of, but you nod, eager to fall into the arms of your husband.
He lifts your head from his body, the lone smile he reserved for you especially, adorning his shadowed lips. The closer you look at it though, it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, neither do they look genuine.
But you don’t mind. This is your Azul, it must be. No false intimidation of him could ever care for you with such adoration.
He leans in without your notice, his freezing lips only inches away from yours.
“We will leave this horrible house together.” His grip is tight, but does that matter? The ink that bleeds into your skin in all but a warm embrace.
…
Ink?
You’re about to turn your head down to look at the liquid, but before you can a strong grip holds onto your cheeks, squishing The fat together. Azul's forehead is rested on yours, the smile held for you no longer on his face, but rather the one for his clients. A smug smile of scheming.
“I promised I'd help you wake up—”
The sound of doors slamming open immediately draws his attention. He looks between you and the source of the sound, his face contorted with annoyance. His face quickly leans into yours, ready to enact the once-tender act of love. The sight of a light distracts him, a silent tut leaving him before disappearing into the shadows.
Your breaths are heavy at the release of pressure on your face. Your hands can barely hold up your body weight, they’re practically about to give up on themselves.
“Shrimpy? Whatcha doin’ on the floor.” it's been so long since you’ve seen Floyd, that you almost confused him for Jade, save for the unique manner of speech he has. It stands out among those in proper society. But it doesn’t matter.
You jump up from your place on the floor, hugging him with a swiftness you shouldn’t be so eager to do. But truthfully, if this was Jade you’re sure you would’ve hugged him just as tight, which is why it’s for the best it was Floyd and not him. Anyone but him.
“What? You excited to see me? What do yah say to ditchin’ Jade and kissin’ me stead’ yeah?” his firm arm wraps around you, picking you up with ease to spin you around. It may be night but with him around it must be the lightest it could possibly be. “Is what he would’ve said had he been here.” Your arms immediately fall at the tone shift.
You’ve been deceived, this is Jade.
You pinch his cheek from the vulnerable state he saw you in, a part of yourself you refused to ever bless him with. Even then… it’s hard to get out of his hold, he’s practically trying to merge with your own body.
“Do you take pride in watching me panicked? A very unfit trait for a husband…” you grit your teeth, but he continues to hold you like an ever-so-fawning husband. Even the way he grazes your face with the back of his hand is tender. He must be mocking you.
“No… Perhaps. But I do take pride in watching you live.”
“Then pretend I’m dead.”
“Then, I shall be the prince in the story who kisses you awake from that deep slumber.” You’re reaching to tug at the annoying asymmetric strand of hair on his head, but pause when the sight of cerulean eyes stare back at you from the shadows. The corner of the hall is desolate from the light of Jade's lamp, entirely untouched and untainted by its purity.
You’re about to point out the existence of the fiend to Jade but stop just shy when a familiar sight invades Azuls fingers.
The golden conch necklace. Its sheen glows despite the shadows.
The piece is just as beautiful as the day it was gifted to you. The face behind the jewelry, however, is much different. Rather than jovial at his present like before, a shadow overcasts his face, everything invisible except for his lone glowing irises.
“Is something the matter?” Jade tilts his head, his face ready to turn before you stop him. It’s a disgustingly affectionate act to hold his face in your hands, but it’s a must. “Oh my…”
“Let's go to sleep.”
“Are you ill? This is the first you’ve ever been willing. My…” Jade feigns worry as he rests his hand on your forehead. “Well, it’s only standard for me to care for you.” You swat your hand at him in response, yet an ironclad hold doesn’t set you free from him.
“Don’t test it.” He smiles, and you’re sure he’s about to open his mouth and annoy you. Seconds go by in silence, his large frame sticking his elbow out, pleasantly proving you wrong.
You take a single glance back, the octopus of shadows no longer sat in the lonely corner, only empty space. You hope when you turn around Jade and his jovial countenance will be gone from sight. You’re unfortunately proven—
… Right?
You slowly turn your head, looking in every direction for where your husband could’ve possibly disappeared. To no avail, there’s only air where he once occupied.
“Jade?” Since when did the manor become so cold? Your arms rub your skin, finding a way to save your body heat. The lack of response is only a further panic, he never does shut up. But even then, you’re starting to miss the grating silky voice he has.
You step forward, the floor is cooler than it was just a few moments ago. And… It’s wet too; it’s covered in a layer of seawater, bits of seaweed, and small fish floating in the body of liquid.
“… Azul?” there’s a faint hiccup that echoes through the hall, a sound you’re unfamiliar with. Well, sorta. This tone sounds familiar but you’ve…
It sounds like Azul, but you’ve never heard him cry before. Was he ever capable of that? He was more suave when courting you. Even during your marriage.
You drag your feet through the water, your nightwear wetting itself with each movement. You allow the weeping to guide your way, getting closer and closer to its source.
You were right.
You turn the corner and are greeted by the giant octopus, hunched over in a corner. His tentacles wave the water around, causing waves to form; all of them hitting you back with every attempt you make to get closer.
“Azul…! Whatever are you…?!” Despite the dark cloak of shadow covering his face, his eyes peak between the fingers enveloping his face.
“Do you love Jade now?” The hollow tone in his voice conflicts with the looks in his pupils. Pure envy. You don’t answer his question. But, this is entirely your fault. You’re not silent because it’s the truth. You’re quiet because how could this creature with your husband's face think such a thing?
“Azul… That’s not—…!” You’re not given the choice to retort when the feeling of cold-soaked fingers covers your mouth. Even with the distance he didn’t use those tentacles. Though you’re relieved he didn’t; the way they thrash around in the water tells you if he did, you wouldn’t have the chance to reply to him.
You’re ready to claw your upper half away from him, but pause when the sounds of wheezed laughs leave him. Another thing you don’t remember Azul ever doing.
Just further proof, this thing only has his face. No part of your true husband resides in him.
Or… maybe it’s the opposite. Maybe Azul was always like this.
“Ahaa… Ahh…haa…!” His pupils dilate at the last exhale, pulling you into him with a force that crashes your head into his chest, “Even here you fall for him.” His arms wrap around you, the hug much more tender than the suction cups that curl around your bottom half. “It’s okay… I still love you, much more than Jade.”
What is he talking…?
You don’t realize the way the air in your lungs dissipates, the water rising with each second, further engulfing you in his overwhelming obsessions. Not affection, obsession.
Your Azul would never drown you like this.
“…You can’t be Jades if you’re mine first.” It’s too late to get out of his hold now. The sea is much too terrifying when it’s around you. You don’t feel air in your lungs, but you don’t suffocate, if anything, you can’t suffocate. “It’s okay angelfish,” His voice is muffled, fingers steadily crawling up your neck until his finger reaches your lips, resting his forehead on yours, “Your husband shall care for you now, not that eel.”
Tears well in your eyes, but not from the pain. It’s from this thing saying such sweet things to you. You have to keep telling yourself… This man isn’t Azul. It’s not… You have to come to terms…!
Azuls mouth connects to yours, bubbles escaping you from the contact. He continues to exchange his affection into your lips, greedily quaffing your air like it’s his, his to breathe in.
It’s not how your husband kissed you, he kissed you with a gentleness akin to a flower. He’s kissing you as if he intends to swallow you whole, not allowing your love to be anyone elses.
Yet, a moment passes and you’re returning each kiss with a fever.
He’s not Azul. It’s not Azul. It’s not your Azul. Azul. Azul…!
In some miracle, you break your arms out of his tentacle hold, wrapping those freed limbs around him. You don’t notice the way you’re not even breathing anymore, too focused on each lipped exchange you have with Azul.
“Now Jade can’t have you. You’ve been ruined.” You were always ruined, ever since he left. Even now as you act so indulgently with the creature with Azuls face, you’ve been ruined.
But you know Jade wouldn’t care.
“You and Azul acted on your wedding night? Oh, dear… Hm? You thought me to be worried? Oh my, it’s quite the opposite… Why…? Well simply put, I’ll show you how much better I am.”
“We will drown together angelfish.”
It doesn’t matter. This thing is the closest to Azul you’ll ever be again, you have to savor it…—!
A tiny ray of light shines through the murky water, hitting Azul right in the eye. He falls back, clutching his eye, hissing through swollen lips. Your falls back into the water, a moment of stupor clouding your judgment before swimming away. What could’ve done that to him?
And what made you wish to stay?
You turn around, curious about the purification that suddenly hit him, and with it, your common sense. You were… indulging a demon. A shadow.
Your eyes glance at the projection, a window, stunningly showcasing the sun-rise that emerges. Azul continues to hiss, his ghostly form fizzing in the water. In a last-ditch effort, he extends his arm to you, his other limbs seemingly unconscious as they lay still.
But before he reaches you, your eyes flutter shut. Oxygen is no longer your savior, but perhaps a cross might be better.
A hand grabs onto your shoulder.
Your body feels dry, warm if anything. It must be the candles Jade has lit around you. Even then, perhaps you never were in the water to begin with. The sight of a soft blue invades your vision. Right, your shared bedroom with the leech.
“Do be careful, it makes no good for your recovery if you continue to act like a fish out of water.” Jade's body emerges from the door, long legs striding over to take his spot next to your bed.
“Jade…” There’s a certain tenderness in your voice that makes him tense, but he resumes as if it never happened.
“Your voice sounds sweet. Perhaps I should keep you bedridden all the time.” He’s back to being coy. But you don’t have the energy to keep up. He stays silent when you do. He knows something’s wrong with the way your eyes stare longingly, even more so when you take his gloved hand like you would a lover.
He knows there’s something wrong, yet he can’t bring himself to do anything. If he did, you wouldn’t return his affections like you are right now, would you? Plus, why ever would he wish to shorten such a sight, you never let him this close.
You never let him look into your eyes for too long. They’re a beautiful enchanting hue, he wishes you’ll let them see them more often.
On your face of course. Though, if things ever become drastic, a jar wouldn’t be a bad option either.
…
You think you wanna run away. Far from here, you know it will follow through, forevermore you’re sure.
That thing, it dared to take advantage of you and implement fond memories, make you believe it was Azul. Monsters are horrific, but liars are much crueler.
“Jade you have other estates to live in, correct?”
“I do.” He rubs his thumb over your skin.
“Allow us to sanction ourselves there then”
“You can’t flee from a shadow dear.”
“… I… What are you speaking about…? Jade?” He doesn’t reply, only allowing his prophecy to implement itself into your veins. You shake his arm, attempting to make him spill more of his nonsense, but he doesn’t. He only smiles at you before gently taking your hand and placing a kiss on your bare skin.
He leaves the room with more questions asked than answered.
“Jade Leech…!” Your voice comes out gurgled, bubbles popping out rather than air. “…?!”
Salt water stings your vision, but in the tiny blear you have, something odd swims in front of the portrait at your feet. A large painting forcibly commissioned by Jade, where you’re sat on a throne adorned with different seashells and coral. That’s the only good thing about the portrait, for that throne was something of Azuls that you pressured Jade into letting you keep.
Your pupils trail down Jade's figure, reaching his hips, where a shadow covers his legs, making his limbs look to be one long tail.
…
The eel swims away the moment you start analyzing it.
You jump up from the bed, your blanket floating aimlessly in the air as you swim toward the painting, taking hold of the golden frame adorning its edges. Your fingers tighten their grip on the intricate detailing at your newfound findings.
There’s a faint reflection of grey hair in the decor of your chair.
You’re about to punch a hole through the canvas, already working to raise your fist at the cloth. When you finally throw your limb, you’re only stopped by knuckle meeting solid gold.
Limbs wrap around the string of the conch necklace, dark purple, accompanied by the feeling of a cheek nuzzling into your own.
“I found where Jade left this.” Any chance of fleeing is already taken from you, as tentacles grab hold of your legs. When you turn you’re met by Azul, a much softer look than what he had when you last saw him. “Mm, I’m sorry, Angelfish. I didn’t mean it, I would never truly hurt you.”
How is he back again?
You continue to only stare at the beastly version of your husband. No… your ex-husband, for Azul, is no longer in the land of the living.
And this pathetic replication of him will never live up to your true Azul.
“Won’t you forgive me?” he trails kisses up your neck when you fail to smile at him, or even touch him. “I found your gift, I hope you still like it.” He rocks you in the water, a familiar action Azul would do in private.
You reply minimally, only nodding along with whatever nonsense he spouts, all for you to understand the only questions in your mind.
What is this fiend? And how does it continue to appear in your home?
These two questions only continue to eat away at you with each twirl in the water. Truthfully, this seems like a scene you could only dream of, it’s so soft and so pretty. But you can’t bring yourself to enjoy the moment.
Your thoughts stop when you feel The mid-water waltz come to a halt. The grasp on your legs tightens once more, as he dips you down, forehead finding refuge on yours.
“Are you ready to leave now?” You choke on water.
No… No…!
“It seems we are, let's go then, Angelfish.” The cruel copy of Azul smiles lovingly at you while you struggle in his hold, air bubbles popping out your throat as you try to scream underwater.
You’d die… You’d rather die than destroy Azul's love for you by eloping with this evil tempter.
How…? How?! How in bloody hell do you rid yourself of him?!
Shadow-made tendrils begin to make their way across your vision, covering any chance of a plan you have. Despite your struggle, he shushes you like one would comfort a child.
You’re starting to feel your conscience fade away into his palms, your defeat inevitable.
Until you feel your curtains graze your fingers. Your hand weakly grabs a handful of the fabric. Will you even be able to pull this giant thing off? You can barely move…!
Despite your reservations, you try. You feel his thumb trace over your lips, a single tap acting like a kiss.
…
You bite his thumb.
He jumps back, still holding you. But, it’s enough force for you to yank the curtain down, light quickly stabbing its way through the water. The rays puncture his purple skin, his eyes widening as he quickly tries to drag you back into him. In his weakened state, the moment he pulls you close enough, you kick your legs into his stomach, pushing yourself away from him.
“No…! No! You didn’t! [Name]! Come back here! COME BACK!”
You swim as quickly as you can to the door, busting through its hinges. You don’t look back to see if he’s gone or not.
…
That only worked because it was day. You didn’t even know if there was sun.
“Jade…?” you stand up on trembling legs, looking around the vast halls of his estate. “Jade?!” You sound pathetic right now, but you need him.
It’s the only way you won’t die by that thing's hands.
“Jade—?!” your desperation finally begins to seep through, each shout of his name dripping with fear. You’re on the verge of tears with your last ask. “Jade, where the bloody hell are you—?!”
“I’m right here.” your head turns towards his voice. ”My, are you a masochist dear? It does seem like you enjoy pain much more than anyone else in society—” You run up to him, willingly letting yourself envelop him in a hug, pulling his neck towards you as your arms wrap around him.
“Jade… Don’t leave again.” You’ve forgotten his last statement before he left, the rage no longer resides in you for that. For a moment, Jade's hand hovers over you, before he finally allows himself to indulge.
“I do hope this is not another attempt at subduing me with your affection.”
“Are you saying if I tried that it might work?”
“Unfortunately, not might, would.” You don’t reply to him, only tightening your wrap around his figure. You wonder why he doesn’t question the fact you are soaked in salt water.
“When you asked me not to leave you again, I do admit, I thought you would be following me around rather than me pursuing you.” your fingers flip through dust pages as Jade sits at your side. He wouldn't dare to annoy you so heavily this time, for it’s the first time you've let him sit only a few inches away from you. So close he can hear each breath you make.
It’s lovely.
“Well, if you have an issue I can always request Floyd to come over. He looks enough like you that I can pretend he is you.” Jade smiles through his pointed teeth, opening his mouth to retort before you cut him off,” Though, I already like him much more, so I don’t believe I have to.” You don’t look at him, but you smile knowing Jade’s once sadistic smile has become much more strained.
“Was it not you who begged me not to go?” It’s your turn to strain a smile. “It was like a sweet delicacy to my ears, much better than any cries from a brothel.”
“Ha, do you wish me to accompany you to such an obscenity? I do regret to inform you that I am not that kind of spouse.”
“Well then, it’s good I don’t wish to act on such desires, for they’re all reserved for you and you exclusively.“ you roll your eyes at your husband, ready to reply to such a tempting statement. You pause when your eyes scan over the words you’ve been looking for.
Ombre: A shadowed figure that resides with those of the recently grieving. They appear to manifest through the belongings of the departed. There have been some cases where all items are gone but the beast remains. These are especially heinous for they can be entirely regular humans. Though, for a majority, your best chance of purification is to rid yourself of such objects.
…
Your fingers snake around the golden conch at your neck, your eyes furrowing at the writing. For a moment, you look down at the surface, the shine glimmering in the light.
For a moment, only a single moment, you can see Azul in its reflection. A cruel reminder of the love who gave you something so near to your heart.
…
You grab Jade's gloved fingers, mismatched eyes staring intently at the way you take hold of him. His face leans in, his forehead pressed on yours… You bring his hand to your chest, wrapping his fingers around Azuls necklace, tightening his grip. You allow him to continue resting his head on yours.
If you close your eyes, you can pretend he’s Azul. So, you close your eyes.
“Please…” you whisper, soft, so soft not even the dust in the air could hear you, but only Jade. “Azul, save me.”
Jade stays silent at the name you say. His free gloved hand finds itself on your cheek, wiping away the tear that trails down your face. You don’t see him take his thumb and lick the salt from your cries.
“Of course I will, Angelfish.”
Your cries increase with the sound of each crack resonating at your chest. Before you, your beloved parting gift from Azul is but golden shards and memories.
You finally open your eyes, ready to collect each piece to melt and send them far away. You’re met by Jade still pressing himself against you, not Azul.
“This is the part where you tell me I’m heinous, to get off you before I sully your clothes with my slimy countenance.” He hopes you’ll tell him to get off, to leave before the sensation of his supposed heart beating in his chest kills him.
“I’ll move when you do, Jade.” his inhale gets caught in his throat. The feeling of consuming you whole embeds itself into him, hands reaching out to wrap themselves around you.
They stop when he sees the way you look at the broken necklace.
…
Jade removes himself from your comfort, grabbing a pot and delicately plucking each one from your skin.
“It seems it’s time to gift Floyd. I’m sure he’ll be overjoyed at the knowledge it’s from you.” you look down at the broken conch once more, before nodding.
You turn back and forth in your bed, Jade sleeping peacefully right next to you despite your unrest. You’ve ridden yourself of almost every single gift and belonging you’ve still retained of Azuls.
Except one.
The damned antique coin of Azuls.
You throw the covers off, taking candlelight in hand. Truly… where could it have gone? You glance back at Jade, still slumbering completely fine in your bed.
It’s when you think back to your first meeting with that thing, do you remember where it is.
In the darkest corner of Jade’s estate.
The only good thing is that it’s a mere few feet away from your bedroom. You turn towards your doors, your forehead resting on its wood. The flame from the candle you hold flickers, a symbol of your wavering fear.
If you don’t get that coin, who knows when that ombre will decide to reappear again?
Your hands linger on the doorknob, a moment of hesitation striking you. You push through this fear, turning the handle and swinging the door open, the force blowing your clothes.
The false Azul is at the end of the hallway.
You shut the door swiftly, the slam resonating through your ears as you barricade the door with your body.
“Bloody hell— Jade! Jade wake up—!” you’re no longer met with the sight of your bed, neither Jade. Only a curtainless window allowing the light of the moon in,
And your dead husband's shadow.
“I love you.” its face no longer holds remnants of the love it showed before, completely expressionless as it looks down at you. The light from the moon backdrops it, the only light coming from its body being its eyes.
Its entirely shadow, the only part of Azul left in it being his eyes, and that hoarse voice.
“You…! You’re not Azul… Stop defacing him!”
The shadow moves its tentacles, scooting closer to your form. You can see a glint on its face, tear streaks.
“Do you love Jade now? Is that why you don’t love me anymore, Angelfish?” it slowly inches forward, and you bury yourself even further into the wood. You’re about to reply to such an accusation before spying on a familiar glint buried in the coral on its shoulder.
Azuls antique coin. You need it.
“… I could never love Jade.” you move off the door, “If… If you’re really my Azul, please,” you slowly walk to the shadow, putting on your best face, “proof to me that you're the man I love.”
It sits on the floor, opening its arms like Azul once did when he wanted you to sit with him, “that’s one thing… What else, Azul?” you walk over to it, placating it as you sit in its lap.
You slowly inch your arms up its torso, waiting for its next move.
“Angelfish, tell me if there’s anything you want, I shall get you it with a snap of my finger.” its arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into it. “After all, I'd do anything if it meant your happiness.” You successfully wrap your arms around its neck, plucking the coin from its shoulder.
“I wish for a puppy. Those little things are truly adorable.”
“Ah, they quite are aren’t they?” its fingers playfully trace up your spine, its face adorning the smile it must’ve practiced dozens of times. “Do you know what I wish for my love?“ you prepare yourself to rip from his hold and make a dash for the window.
There’s a river near this window, if you throw this coin there, the current can carry it away.
“What Azul?”
“For you to stop believing me to be so foolish.” Its smile quickly falls, throwing you to the door, far from your current objective. You grip the coin so hard, you fear it will embed itself into your palm, but it's better than losing it. ”Truly, am I that hideous the idea of leaving with me is unfathomable?!” its tentacles wave around the room in a rampage. You stand up, ready to run to the door with whatever it takes.
“No…! You have my Azuls face…!” You run through the swing of each appendage. “You could never be ugly in my eyes because of it!” You’re only a few feet away from the window, mere feet from removing this falsified version of Azul.
You’re met with the feeling of a slimy body blocking your path, a suffocating hug halting your path.
No…! No!
“It doesn’t matter if you hate me, I’ll always love you.” you’re so close… So close! “It doesn’t matter anymore, you’ll find your love for me again when we leave this place.”
Love.
“We’re leaving now, no matter what you convince me with—” You bury your lips into its own, those eyes widening at the feeling. You back it up with each exchange of your lips, caging it between you and the window. It’s too caught up in the way you kiss it, to notice your arm raising the coin.
It looks down at you when you part for air, staring deeply into your eyes, a trail of black ink connecting your lips.
It finally notices when you smile at it, a smile filled with the purest of love, for a man in your past.
“I love you, Azul.” you chuck the coin into the river, the water dragging it far into the ocean.
“No—!”
You watch as its form disperses into a cloud of black dust, the last action it takes is to reach out for you.
For a moment, you see its face take on the true appearance of your husband, smiling at you.
The wind drags the ebony sand out the window, leaving you stranded in your room alone.
“Azul…”
…
The light peaks through the tree's leaves, shining on Azul as he checks his books.
“My, it seems my husband is having an affair with money…! How cruel, and you always told me I mattered much more.” you laugh at your words as Azul rolls his eyes at you, opening his mouth as you feed him.
“Yes Angel, it’s because you matter much more to me that I do this, how else will I keep you happy?” He pushes up his glasses as you wrap yourself around his arm, resting your cheek on his shoulder.
“Hmm… Perhaps take me out more often?”
“Oh? Is three outings a sennight not enough for you? Greedy greedy.” he tuts at you as you laugh.
“I’m greedy? Seems quite hypocritical from a businessman, hm?” he smiles at you before planting a kiss on your temple.
“Yes, greedy for you.” he shuts his book as he turns to face you. “When I die, I'm sure I'll be desperate for you even after death.” his hands hold your face in his palms.
“Don’t say such things! You’re going to send yourself to an early grave…!” he doesn't answer, only smiling at you.
…
You look down at Azuls grave, placing a bouquet of irises on his tomb.
“See you soon Azul.”
You turn back to Jade, his arm sticking out to guide you back home. He smiles when you take hold of him, talking about your day.
You knock down the books on the table as Jade places you on his desk, his lips bite marks into your neck.
“I won’t be able to return to society if you keep this up, Leech.” His hands trace up your sides as he removes his teeth from your neck, licking a stripe up your skin before burying his lips into your own. He’s so greedy with each kiss like he’s attempting to consume your love all for himself.
What’s left of it anyway.
“Perhaps that’s what I want, yes? To have you all by yourself in this home…” A string of saliva connects you two at the moment. When he thinks you’ve breathed enough, he traces his canines on your lip, biting the plush skin before reconnecting yourselves. You fall against his desk, his gloved hand wrapping your leg around his.
“Possessive, I don’t like that in men, unfortunately.” he laughs at your words, rubbing circles into your hips.
“Yes, then perhaps I should drop dead—”
“Jaaade.” you both stand up at the call, Floyd wandering the halls aimlessly.
Jade sighs, extending his arm to guide you out of the room and see his brother until he gazes at the current state you’re in. Messied hair, swollen lips, and ruined nightwear, you smile messily at him,
“… I shall see to Floyd, stay in here.” he turns toe and walks toward the doors, your smile falling as you look at him.
He doesn’t think you’ve noticed, but you can see the way his body grows wispy in the light. You’ve seen the way he grows bigger at night.
You’ve noticed that Jade Leech has never been the man he says he is, for he is anything but a man.
You should’ve known when the first moment you met him was through the remnants of Azuls shadow.
—————————————
A/n: I hope everyone enjoyed this!!! So far I think this is my favorite fic i’ve written (≧◡≦) ♡. Honestly, I thought about having Floyd make an appearance, but I thought it would be funnier if Jade stop him from ever seeing you because he gets jealous you like him more LMAO.
It’s not explicitly stated there because I wanted reader to be in the complete dark about the contract, but the reason he had you wed Jade after his death is simply because he loves you so much, the idea of you forever being alone because of him hurts. So, he signed the contract with Jade to ensure someone will love you in his absence 😁😁😁
Plus, He noticed the way he gave you googly eyes whenever you were around and was like “really? In front of me?”
Poor Floyd curses the fact he didn’t make his lovey dovey eyes as strong as Jades ever since your remarriage, should’ve been him 😞.
#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#yan twst#yandere azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#jade leech x reader#yandere jade leech#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere
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unpredictable (like the weather) | tyler owens x fem!reader
Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader (mentions of slight Scott x Fem!Reader) Summary: When you meet Tyler Owens, you have no intention of getting to know him – you know what kind of reputation he has in town. Tyler, on the other hand, has only one plan: win you over in any way he possibly can. Warnings: Alcohol, heavy drinking/getting drunk (not the reader), mentions of being sick Word Count: 7k A/N: So, someone commented on my last longer fic, Death Wish Love, saying that Tyler reminds them of the movie The Choice (which I love), so I rewatched it the other day and this is what ended up coming out of that inspiration! I wrote it pretty much all in one day (which is kinda insane for me), but now that Twisters is out online and I rewatched it twice in two days, the desire to write for Tyler is stronger than ever. This one is a longer one, so settle in and enjoy! 💗
If someone was to ask Tyler Owens about the first time he met you, he’d say that things didn’t quite go to plan. Not that there was a plan at all, really, considering the fact that he didn’t know who was going to be on the other side of the door when he heard a knock. All he knew when he opened it was that the woman standing on the other side, holding a stack of several towels in her arms, was the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.
“Oh, damn, let me take those,” Tyler said, reaching out to take the towels from you. “I told the owners we’d be happy to come grab them ourselves. You didn’t have to bring them all the way up here, but it’s well appreciated.”
You shrugged a shoulder. “The owners are my parents, and there’s nothing they love more than sending their daughter to work…” You really looked at him, then. Tall, blonde… and soaked from head to toe in water. The man was literally dripping, a puddle having formed on the tiled floor at his feet. “Did one of your pipes break or something? Do you need a repairman?”
Tyler looked down at himself and laughed. “No, we uh– we were out chasin’ and we got caught in the middle of a rain storm when we jumped out of the truck to grab some footage.” He jabbed a finger over his shoulder and you spotted another man further in the room, wringing out a bright yellow t-shirt in the sink. “Weather can be pretty unpredictable.”
“Oh, you’re storm chasers?” You raised your eyebrows, seemingly intrigued. “We get a lot of those here at the motel.”
Tyler couldn’t help the grin that sprung to his face. “Yeah, I bet you do,” he hummed. “None quite like us, though.” He watched as your lips quirked up into a small smile. “So, your parents own the place? Does that mean I’ll be seeing you around more often?”
“Maybe. If you need more towels.”
Tyler laughed and you couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling from your lips as well. He was just about to ask you for your name when Boone came up to him, grabbed a towel and said “Quit flirting and start dryin’ yourself off. You’re makin’ a mess of the place in front of the owners daughter, Ty.”
The smile dropped from your face almost instantly and for a moment, you just looked at him without saying a word. Tyler had just started to wonder if he or Boone had said something wrong when you spoke again.
“Are you Tyler Owens?”
Boone let out a loud whoop. “Told ya we’re gettin’ famous on Youtube, Ty! 200,000 subscribers, baby!”
“You’ve heard of me,” Tyler replied, a little cockily, ignoring Boone behind him. He was suddenly even more curious about you. You must have come across their Youtube channel – maybe you were even subscribed. He could forgive you for not recognising him at first sight. That simple fact somehow made you even more attractive to him. Maybe you were more interested in their storm chasing videos than in him… but he could change that.
“Oh, honey, that’s not a good thing.”
Tyler raised his eyebrows. “And why’s that?”
“I’ve been warned about you. By the girls at the bar in town. Ringing any bells?” You crossed your arms over your chest and suddenly Tyler was intimidated. Tyler was the type of guy who never got intimidated.
He hated that it wasn’t ringing any bells in his head. He’d gone to the local bar a fair few times over his years of storm chasing around the area. He was a flirt – that much was clear to anyone that spoke to him. But he was a gentleman as well. His mother had raised him to be.
“Please don’t take offence to this, darlin’, but I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tyler attempted, though he had a feeling you’d already made up your mind about him.
You smiled at him, then, and Tyler knew it wasn’t a friendly smile. It was more of a how the hell don’t you know what I’m talking about smile. If that was a thing.
“Tyler Owens, the storm chasing hunk who flirts with everyone but the second things look like they might get serious, he hurries off with a tornado to chase,” you explained. “That you?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a “Hang on– no– okay, that’s not–”
Much to his dismay, you were clearly done with the conversation. “If the towels are all you need, I’ve gotta get back to work. You’re welcome to ring the office if you need anything else. Just dial 7 on the phone on the desk.”
With that, Tyler watched as you turned on your heel and walked away. He laughed to himself in disbelief at what had just happened, leaning up against the doorframe until you disappeared from view.
“Hey, storm chasing hunk suits you, man,” Boone called from where he was towel drying his hair in the mirror.
“Not sure if that’s the kinda reputation I’m after, Boone.”
Tyler had learnt that day that you could also be just as unpredictable as the weather.
~~
After your first encounter with Tyler Owens, you had been glad not to see him for a month. It’d been a relatively calm weather month, with a few storms here and there but none really amounting to anything. It was good in some ways, but not in others. Less storms meant less storm chasers staying at the motel, which meant less money.
You’d almost found yourself wishing for more storms.
At least until you saw Tyler’s familiar red truck pulling into the parking lot on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
That day, your parents had left you in charge while they headed out to Oklahoma City to stock up on a bunch of supplies that the motel was running low on, and how typical of that to be the day Tyler Owens and the Tornado Wranglers returned after their month long absence.
You watched as Tyler walked towards the office, clearly not bothered by the drizzle of rain. It didn’t surprise you – given the fact that he’d been soaked from head to toe when you first met him and was more interested in flirting with you rather than drying off. That had told you everything you needed to know about him.
When he pulled open the door and met your eyes, he flashed you a grin. “Your favourite storm chasing hunk returns,” Tyler greeted, his tone joking. “Long time no see, hey?”
“If only it’d been longer,” you give him a small smile of your own. “And favourite is a bit of a stretch. I met you once and you think you had that much of an impression on me? Have we got some storms coming our way, then?” You attempt to change the topic.
“What if I said I was just here to see you?”
You raised your eyebrows as you looked up at him. “I’d say you’re an asshole for getting my hopes up that we might end up booked out with storm chasers for the next couple of days.”
Tyler scrunched up his nose a little. He looked cute. Even though you’d been warned to steer clear of him, you had to admit he was a good looking man. You shook the thought from your mind.
“Been slow out this way this month?” He asked.
“You have no idea.”
“Well, it’s your lucky day then. You got five rooms for us? Just for the one night for now. Gotta see what tomorrow brings,” Tyler said.
You knew that there were five rooms for them – there were only three other guests staying in the motel at the moment and you had forty rooms, so it was an easy job to book five for Tyler and his team.
“Five rooms, huh? Not sharing anymore?”
The last time they’d stayed, you remembered that they’d only booked three rooms. The dark haired man with the moustache had been in Tyler’s room when you’d met him.
Tyler nodded. “Yeah, our Youtube has kinda blown up a bit over the past month,” he chuckled. “We can afford separate rooms for the first time ever so we’re making the most of it.”
You made a mental note to look their Youtube channel up later. Even if Tyler wasn’t on your radar, all of his friends had seemed nice enough last time you met them, and they must have been fairly talented at what they did to have amassed such a following online.
“Okay, so your rooms are from 201 to 205, just head up the stairs to the second level and you’ll see the numbers on the doors,” you said, grabbing the five sets of keys to the rooms and handing them to him.
He took the keys, slinging the key rings on his fingers to make them a little easier to carry.
“I guess I’ll see you around, then?” Tyler asked, taking a step back from the counter.
You smiled at him. “Not if I can help it.”
~~
The Tornado Wranglers had stayed at your motel a few more times since the second time Tyler met you, and every time, you had reacted to him the same way. You tolerated him. No matter how much Tyler tried to win you over, flirt with you, get you to show any interest in him, it never worked.
Tyler was nursing his sorrows with a beer, the rest of the Wranglers and a few other storm chasing groups in the parking lot of your motel when he saw you. You were tugging on a coat and heading out of the office, a set of car keys in your hands.
He’d known that you didn’t live at the motel like your parents did and had seen you arriving at the motel early in the mornings when he’d been up early during their stays in the past, but he’d never seen you when you left.
“I’ll be right back,” Tyler said to no one in particular, putting his beer down and standing up, jogging over to where you were walking towards your car. “You heading out?”
You turned, meeting his eyes, and let out a sigh at the sight of him. “Going home, actually.”
“Why don’t you stay?” Tyler asked, nodding back to where his group was. “Have a couple of drinks with us. We don’t bite, really. You might enjoy yourself.” He was being truthful in his words. He’d decided to try a new method. No flirting, just honesty. Just trying to show you that he was interested in you without being too over the top.
For a moment, Tyler thought you might actually say yes.
“I can’t,” you shook your head. “But you guys enjoy your night, and try not to be too loud. Remember that my parents live here and they don’t wanna deal with noise complaints.”
Tyler laughed. “When have we ever been the cause of a noise complaint, darlin’?”
You laughed, too, and Tyler thought it was the most beautiful sound on earth.
“Okay, none that I’m aware of but there’s a first time for everything.”
“Exactly,” Tyler grinned. “If you’re not gonna come have some drinks with us, then what do you say to coming on a chase with us? First time for everything. Promise I won’t drive you into the middle of a tornado on your first chase.”
You raised your eyebrows. “So, you think I’m gonna say yes to a tornado chase when I won’t say yes to drinks? Tyler Owens, you are ridiculous,” you let out a breathy laugh. “And who says I haven’t chased before?”
With that, you were quick to unlock and get into your car, ending the conversation. Tyler stepped out of the way as you reversed and drove out of the motel. He sighed to himself as he walked back to the group, a small smile on his face. Had you chased before? He wanted to know everything about it, about you. Who had you chased with? When? He figured they were questions he’d never get the answers to.
“Oh, you got it bad, Ty,” Boone said as he got back to his seat.
“Yeah,” Tyler said, taking a swig of his beer. “Yeah, I do.”
~~
The next few times Tyler stayed at the motel, he didn’t see you. Your parents had insisted that you were all right when he’d asked, just told him that you’d ‘gotten busy all of a sudden’, and Tyler wasn’t sure what to make of that.
It was the fourth time they’d stayed at the motel in the past month when he saw you again, and it was only when he and the other Wranglers made their way to the local bar for some drinks after a long day of failed chasing. The very bar you’d mentioned to him that he had a reputation in.
He almost walked straight back out the door when he saw you, but Boone pulled him right back in, insisting that this was the night to show you that he was nothing like his reputation anymore. If he could win you over, tonight would be the night, Boone said.
Boone had never been further from the truth.
It wasn’t long after they’d arrived that Tyler spotted a few members of the relatively new Storm Par team wandering into the bar, dressed in their uniforms like they were attending a meeting, not going out for drinks. He scoffed – until he saw the tall browned haired man , Scott, he thought his name was, wandering over to you, holding… holy hell, was he bringing you roses?
By the smile on your face, they were definitely for you.
Oh, Tyler felt like he could melt right into the floor. So this was why you’d never paid him any attention? This was why you’d been missing from the motel? Your parents telling him you were busy was because you were with Scott? He suddenly remembered you saying you’d been chasing before. It had to have been with Scott.
Storm Par had begun to get in their way a lot with their chasing, and now they were getting in his way again, but with you instead.
He watched as you took the roses from Scott’s hands and sniffed them, a smile blooming beautifully on your face as Scott took a seat beside you, resting his hand on your thigh.
Boone, sitting beside him, muttered an “Oh, shit.”
“Yeah, oh shit is right,” Lily said from the other side of Boone. “You all right over there, Ty?”
He hadn’t realised he’d paused with his beer half way to his mouth. He cleared his throat and spun around in his chair, moving to face the bar again. The last thing he wanted to do was get caught staring at you in this bar of all places.
“I’m fine,” Tyler lied through his teeth. “She was never interested in me anyway, and now I have a reason not to be interested in her anymore.” Or a reason to be incredibly jealous and have a few too many drinks… which is exactly what Tyler did.
Later that night, he found himself wandering across the bar to find you. He’d watched Scott and the rest of the Storm Par team leave an hour ago and had been surprised that you’d stayed behind.
Dani and Dexter had attempted to stop him but there was really nothing that could stop Tyler Owens when he set his mind to something. Even if, a few hours ago, Tyler had felt like giving up on winning you over was the best course of action.
But Tyler Owens didn’t give up. Not that easily, anyway. And who was he to give in to someone from Storm Par? He was Tyler Owens, a Tornado Wrangler! The fact that he was incredibly drunk never crossed his mind.
“So,” Tyler said, pulling up the seat beside you. “Scott from Storm Par took you chasin’.”
You spun to look at him, surprised by his appearance. You’d spotted him in the bar a few hours ago but had been too preoccupied at the time to think much of it. You assumed he’d left when you’d seen a few members of his team leave earlier, but apparently not.
“He did,” you nodded. “I take it you saw him and the others here earlier.”
Tyler screwed up his nose. “But you’ve never been storm chasin’ with me.”
You looked at him, amused. He was clearly quite intoxicated. You’d never seen him like this before. Drunk Tyler Owens was quite endearing. “No, I haven’t been.”
“You should,” he said. “I think you haven’t actually been storm chasin’ for real unless you’ve been in my truck, storm chasin’ with me. And you haven’t been, so your trip with Scott doesn’t count.”
You couldn’t help but laugh at him. This was the man the girls at this very bar had warned you about? The one that flirted with everyone? The poor man was much too drunk to flirt with anyone right now – including you. That probably wouldn’t stop him from trying though.
“Oh, doesn’t it? Well, that’s a shame. I’ll have to tell Scott.”
Tyler shook his head. “Don’t tell your boyfriend I said that.”
“Boyfriend?” You raised your eyebrows. “Who says he’s my boyfriend?”
You saw something like hope spark in Tyler’s eyes. “Isn’t he?”
“He wishes he was,” you admitted, looking down at the roses on the table in front of you. You hadn’t expected him to give those to you, nor to make a beeline to you when they arrived at the bar tonight. Sure, Scott was cute, and he could be sweet when he wanted to be, but when you looked at him… well, that was the problem, really. When you looked at him, you just couldn’t look at him the way you should look at someone you really liked.
Tyler stared at you for a few moments, as if in shock. “I will be right back.”
With that, Tyler jumped up from the chair and bolted straight to the mens bathroom. You watched as the man he was sitting with before, Dexter, sighed and walked into the bathroom after him. Dani, the other member of his team, wandered over to you.
“Sorry about him,” she said, nodding her head towards the bathrooms. “He usually doesn’t get that drunk. He’s much better at holding his liquor than you’d think he is.”
You shook your head. “No, it’s fine. Will he be okay? If he doesn’t drink that much?”
“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Dani seemed quite certain. “He’ll wallow in his self pity for a while and then he’ll be back to same ol’ Tyler. Anyway, I’m gonna go order an Uber to take us back to the motel. No way Ty’s staying here after that. See you around, yeah?”
Dani left before you had a chance to ask her what self pity he was wallowing in and by the time Tyler and Dexter came out of the bathroom, Tyler was in no state to continue a conversation with you. Dexter gave you a nod as he helped a very green looking Tyler out of the bar and probably into the Uber awaiting them outside.
You finished off your drink and sat in silence, thinking to yourself for a while. For the first time since you’d met Tyler Owens four months ago, you were actually feeling intrigued by him.
~~
It’d been three weeks since your encounter with Tyler Owens at the bar. You hadn’t seen them the following morning, as they’d left the motel early to get chasing, according to your parents, who had taken the keys when they checked out.
They’d been at the motel once since, and you’d been surprised at the disappointment you felt when Tyler had ignored you for the entire time. He hadn’t even said a single hello, nor come up to you and joked or flirted with you like he usually did. You had no idea if he remembered your conversation at the bar a few weeks ago, but your instinct told you that he didn’t. You couldn’t help but be curious at what had caused the switch.
It was out of that same curiosity that you typed Tornado Wranglers into Youtube and clicked on their channel, wondering if you watched some of their videos, you’d get some kind of clue as to why Tyler had changed around you. They had 500,000 followers now, and you vaguely remembered Boone mentioning they had 200,000 when you’d first met them. That was quite an impressive growth for four months, especially for something as niche as storm chasing.
You were about to start scrolling through their videos when you noticed a new one, right at the top, titled Not My First Tornadeo Live Stream. You laughed a little at the name as you clicked on it, not sure what you were exactly clicking onto. But your breath caught in your throat at the sight that greeted you when it loaded.
For the first time, you let yourself notice how attractive Tyler Owens really was.
Tyler and Boone were sat in the front seats of what you assumed was his red truck and, by the looks of it, they were driving head first into a tornado, as they seemed to do quite often judging by the thumbnails and titles of their other videos. Tyler was driving, one hand on the wheel and his other arm leaning against the arm rest.
“Looks like this is gonna be a good one, guys!” Boone cheered, turning to face the camera to the outside of the truck and showing the tornado forming in front of them. “Look at that beauty!”
You furrowed your eyebrows, watching as Boone moved, taking the camera with him and pointing it out of the passenger seat window. He then spun it again, facing it towards himself to show the upper half of his body hanging out the window.
“Boone, get back inside,” you could barely hear Tyler’s voice through the wind on the microphone.
You were surprised when Boone listened to him, moving back inside the truck and pointing the camera at Tyler. You’d never seen them storm chasing before, but you could tell from the look on Boone’s face that Tyler wasn’t quite himself.
“Tyler’s feeling a little out of sorts today,” Boone started. “Well, all month, actually. You need to get laid, Ty. Hell, I know it, you know it, even the tornado knows it.”
“Boone, are we live right now?” Tyler glanced at him.
“Yeah, we are, and the chat agrees,” Boone said, clearly looking at something on the screen. “Oh, hang on – I think we even have some volunteers!”
“Don’t say stuff like that. What if she’s watching?”
She? You’re suddenly intrigued. Who is this mysterious she that Tyler mentioned? He’d never mentioned anything about another woman to you – not like he would ever tell you, since he spent most of his time when he spoke to you just getting on your nerves. At least until the bar. But maybe things had changed. Maybe that’s why he’d been different. Because he had something serious with someone.
Maybe he was no longer the storm chasing flirting hunk that he had been when you’d first met him. That’d explain why he’d stopped flirting with you and started ignoring you. Something uncomfortable settled in your stomach.
Boone scoffed. “Ty, the day that girl watches one of our lives is gonna be the day that tornadoes miraculously decide to stop forming.” He looked at the screen. “Everyone’s asking who she is now, y’know?”
“Thank you so much for telling all–” Tyler paused to quickly glance at the screen himself, “all 284,000 people watching us right now about her.”
“You brought it up, man!” Boone replied defensively. “Hey, maybe this’ll give you more luck with the ladies and help you get over her. Guys, if anyone’s interested, we’re gonna be at–”
“Let’s focus on the tornado, Boone!” Tyler shouted, louder than you’d ever heard him before. But it did the job, bringing Boone’s focus back to the tornado in front of them as they drove closer to it.
Your mind was whirring as you watched them get closer. You were sure Tyler was right with what he’d said at the bar. Maybe you never really had been storm chasing, considering the fact that what you were watching was so different to the chase that Scott had taken you on. And Boone had said something about getting over her. Had Tyler been dating someone? Had it ended badly?
As if on cue, your phone buzzed beside the computer, the screen lighting up with Scott’s name on it. You stared at it for a moment and then picked it up and hit answer.
~~
“Man, you gotta tell me what the hell is going on,” Boone said, grabbing a beer out of the cooler and sitting down on the fold-up chair next to where Tyler was sitting comfortably with a beer of his own. “You’ve been in a bad mood for like a whole month. Even the chat is starting to notice when we’re live during a chase. It’s bad for business.”
Tyler sighed and took a long drink of his beer.
“It’s cause of that girl,” Dani offered from her spot in the doorway of the van. “You know, the one from that motel? Remember when we went to that bar– oh, wait, you wouldn’t remember cause you got drunk by 9 o���clock and Lily took you back to the motel.”
Boone narrowed his eyes at her. “Yeah, I remember a bit, Dani.”
“Guys, come on,” Tyler attempted, breaking his silence. “It’s late, we’re all tired after the last couple weeks. Can we not just enjoy the quiet and relax?”
“No, man, we can’t,” Boone sat up straighter in his chair. “I’m invested now. What happened with that girl from the motel?”
Dani pointed a finger over to where the Storm Par cars were parked. A few of the members of that team were milling about, but most of them had headed upstairs already. “She’s dating Scott from the Storm Par team,” she explained.
Tyler’s eyes narrowed in on Scott, who was pacing back and forward, holding his phone up to his ear. Was he talking to you? Listening to you, hearing your beautiful laughter on the other end of the line? On second thoughts, Tyler didn’t wanna know.
“Oh, wait – I do remember that! Didn’t he give her flowers?” Boone piped up, memories coming back from his very drunken night. Tyler was surprised he was able to remember the detail about the flowers considering how much he’d had to drink that night.
“Yeah, he did,” Lily nodded, joining in the conversation. “And then Ty got so drunk he apparently ran out on her mid conversation so he could go and throw up in the toilet, and Dexter had to go and rescue him.”
Tyler furrowed his eyebrows. “Mid conversation with her?” He looked between Dexter and Dani. “Was I talking to her when I was sick?”
Dexter nodded. “Yeah, we tried to stop you from going over there but it would’ve taken a tornado to hold you back from her, I think. You weren’t there for long before you made the dash to the bathroom though.”
“Yeah, but she seemed to be understanding when I talked to her about it,” Dani added.
Tyler frowned. He had no memory of that at all – what had he been talking to you about? He’d seen you from a distance the last time he’d been at your motel but he’d made a point not to speak to you because of Scott, trying to save himself the heartbreak, telling himself it was his own damn fault for liking a girl who never gave him even the slightest hint of reciprocation. He took another drink of his beer. Whatever you’d spoken about didn’t matter.
“Okay, enough about her. I’m sorry I’ve been in a bad mood, let’s just move on, all right?” Tyler raised his beer in the air. “How about a cheers to being 10,000 subscribers away from 600k?”
~~
It didn’t take Tyler long to go back on his word about moving on.
When they all stayed at your motel again, he had no idea that you’d been watching the livestream a few weeks ago, but what he did know was that he wasn’t going to give up so easily. He’d learnt a lot over the past few weeks of storm chasing. Especially when he saw Scott from Storm Par parked on the side of the road, yelling at one of his team members.
That enough told Tyler that he had to win you over more than ever. He just hoped that in the past few weeks since he’d last spoken to you and since he’d seen you at the bar with Scott, things hadn’t gotten so serious between the two of you that he couldn’t stop it.
Tyler knew that you deserved someone so much better than Scott. Even if that wasn’t him, he wasn’t going to let you end up with someone like that – a man that yelled at his coworkers the way he’d seen Scott yelling at his was not a good man.
He and the team had taken their bags upstairs to their rooms after your parents checked them in and Tyler had been heading back down to the truck to grab a few things they couldn’t carry before when he spotted you. You were walking into the entrance of the hotel from the street.
Tyler quickly forgot about getting the things out of the truck and made a beeline to you. He could tell by the look on your face that you were surprised at seeing him. Probably because he’d ignored you last time he was here – something he regretted – and here he was, walking right up to you.
“Tyler,” you greeted him with a nod of his head and made an attempt to side-step around him, but he was quick enough to step in your way, making it so you couldn’t pass him. You looked up at him with raised eyebrows. “Have you remembered I exist this visit?”
“Listen, about that–”
“Oh, you’re actually talking to me now?”
Tyler huffed. “Yeah, I am talking to you now.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to win you over. Like I’ve been trying to do for the past six months.”
“Six months? Tyler, why are you so intent on winning me over?”
Tyler took a deep breath and then spoke. “Because I like you. I have ever since I first met you. And I cannot stand the idea of you being with someone like Scott, so if you’ll just listen to me for a second–”
“Scott?” You cut him off. “You don’t remember that conversation at the bar, do you?”
He paused. “Do you not remember how drunk I was?”
You laughed to yourself. “Well, yes. I do remember you being so drunk you had to run off to the bathroom, you were slurring all your words and you called Scott my boyfriend. I told you that he wasn’t. He still isn’t, and he never will be.”
Scott had called you that day you were watching the livestream to tell you that he wasn’t sure he could put as much time into a relationship with you as he put into his job and chasing. It had been a weight off your chest – one you didn’t even realise you had there.
The look on Tyler’s face almost made you laugh again. He looked completely flabbergasted. You reached up and gently patted his shoulder in slight pity before stepping around him and heading towards the office. Your parents had given you a break, which you’d used to go for a walk and stretch your legs, and they were likely awaiting your return.
Tyler stood in shock for a few moments, but it only took him a second longer to come to his senses. He turned around and called your name, making you turn back to face him. There was a look of amusement on your face.
“Yes, Tyler?”
“Go on a date with me,” Tyler said, the words accidentally being more of an order and less of a question. He cleared his throat and tried again. “I mean – will you go on a date with me?”
That was really not very gentlemanly of him at all.
“I thought you usually run away and chase tornadoes before it can get serious with girls.”
Tyler shrugged his shoulders. “Thought I’d change it up a bit and chase you instead.” He paused and then laughed. “Okay, that sounded way more creepy than I intended it to sound. Don’t take that too seriously, darlin’.”
You couldn’t help but smile at him and the sound of his laughter. Despite the fact that you had spent the last few months doing nothing but tolerating Tyler Owens, you relented. What could it hurt, anyway? It wasn’t him flirting with you at a bar and running off before things got serious. Besides, you had a feeling you might have judged him a little too harshly based on his reputation at first. “Fine. One date.”
“How does tomorrow night sound?”
“You sure you can fit me into your tornado chasing schedule?”
“Yeah, I’ll pass on a message to the tornados not to happen tomorrow night.”
When Tyler headed back upstairs later that night, he found Boone sitting in his room. He looked at him expectantly as Tyler closed the door behind him. “So, how did it go, man?”
Tyler found it impossible to keep the smile off of his face. “That Storm Par asshole is out of the picture, and I have a date scheduled for tomorrow night.”
~~
For the first time in a long time, Tyler Owens had forgotten to check the weather before leaving the motel. But somehow, it had worked out in his favour. His plans of a romantic sunset picnic were going perfectly. The sky was coloured in bright oranges and pinks. It was the perfect backdrop for your first date.
Tyler opened up the picnic basket from its spot on the picnic blanket underneath you and passed you a sandwich. You were sat just to the right of him, your eyes fixed on the sunset.
“Did my mother make this?” You asked, looking down at the sandwich.
He grinned. “I may have enlisted her help. Y’know, she told me that she prefers me to ‘that other boy she’s been seeing’. Says I have more of a country boy spirit to me, that the other one seemed too much like a city kid.”
You snorted. “I mean, she’s not wrong there. When Scott took me chasing, he specifically made sure we stayed out of the hail and he was very proactive with making sure I always had my window wound up so no water got inside the car.”
If Tyler had been drinking, he was pretty certain he would have spat it all back out. “And you seriously went out with that asshole?” He shook his head. “You’ve seen the greener side of the grass now that you’re here with me, though, haven’t you?”
You scrunched up your nose. “Hmm, it’s not that much greener…”
Tyler gave you a look that made you laugh.
“No, but seriously. Your storm chasing looks much more adventurous than Scott’s. A hell of a lot scarier, as well. You won’t catch me hanging out the side of your truck just to get a good video of it, that’s for sure,” you grinned.
He looked at you for a moment, eyebrows furrowed. “You’ve seen our videos?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, taking a small bite of the sandwich finally. “I watched a little bit of one of your live streams a little while ago. Boone was hanging out the side of your car and was saying something about you needing to get laid.”
Tyler flushed. Oh, no. Out of all of the live streams you could have caught and you’d watched that one? The one where Boone had said tornadoes would be more likely to stop forming all together rather than you watching their videos? “Okay, I’m gonna need you to wipe that whole experience from your brain for me, okay darlin’?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at him, shaking your head at his pink tinged cheeks. He was embarrassed. At this point, you honestly weren’t sure that Tyler Owens even knew how to feel embarrassed. But apparently, he could.
“Only if you tell me one thing in return, cowboy.”
“Deal.”
“Why were you so intent on winning me over? And don’t say it’s just because you like me.”
Tyler sighed and leant back on his hands, staring up at the sky which had dulled a little in colour but was still beautiful. “Well, you know that when we first met each other, I liked you straight away. I was flirting with you from the get-go. I think at first it started out as a little bit of a challenge for me. I’m not really used to girls not liking me – and I know that sounds cocky as hell, and it is, but that’s just the truth,” he admitted. “But there was always just something about you that made me wanna get to know you better. And I don’t give up once I set my mind to something, which is why we’re sitting here right now.”
You honestly felt flattered by his words. Amused, too, about his admission that he wasn’t used to girls not being interested in him. But mostly flattered.
“Now you tell me why you said yes to this date,” Tyler said.
There was no point lying or trying to come up with any other answer other than the truth. You also didn’t want to lie to him. He’d been completely honest with you. He deserved the same from you.
“When we first met, I really didn’t like you. I think I made that pretty clear. I wasn’t interested in being just another girl who got flirted with and then abandoned. But I think that night at the bar, the one you don’t remember, was what made me interested in you. It was the first time I’ve seen you completely honest. You weren’t just trying to flirt with me or mess with me. And then you ignored me the next time you saw me.”
“I said I’m sorry about that!”
“I know,” you smiled. “But I just think I said yes because I figured, what the hell? Things with Scott and I were never gonna work out, I was getting jealous over you mentioning your ex on a live stream. If that isn’t a sure sign I like you at least enough to say yes to a date, I don’t know what is.”
Tyler sat up straighter. “Mentioning my ex on a live stream?”
“Yeah,” you nodded. “Boone was talking about you getting over someone. You don’t remember? It was the same one where he hung out the window. I only watched the one.”
“Darlin’, that wasn’t about an ex.”
“No?”
“It was about me trying to get over you.”
You stared at him for a moment and then burst into laughter, completely unable to stop yourself. Tyler couldn’t help but laugh as well. The amount of miscommunication between the two of you simply because you didn’t communicate was ridiculous.
Both of you had been so busy in your conversation and laughter that neither of you had realised that the sunset had disappeared, replaced with dark clouds. It wasn’t until rain started falling that you both stopped laughing and looked up to the sky.
“Shit, we need to get the stuff back to the truck!” Tyler was quick to jump up, scooping things back into the picnic basket while you grabbed the blanket and rolled it up in your arms.
You both laughed as you ran back to the truck, luckily parked not far away, and shoved the basket and blanket on the back seat. But the rain had intensified so much in the short amount of time that you were both already soaked to the bone by the time you’d gotten to the car.
“We could really use some of those motel towels right now, huh?” You said.
Tyler looked at you and laughed again. There was no rush from either of you to get back into the truck as you stood side by side beside it, looking into each others eyes as the rain pummelled down.
He couldn’t believe he was here right now with you. Standing in the rain, on a date. He’d forgotten to check the weather for the first time in a long time. But he’d known all along just how unpredictable the weather could be. Just like you could be. And just like he could be, too.
“Can I kiss you?” He asked, voice loud enough to be heard against the sound of the rain and thunder that had just appeared overhead.
He watched as your lips quirked up into a smile. “Yes,” you nodded in reply.
Tyler wasted no time in placing his hands on your waist and bringing his lips to yours. He’d never kissed anyone in the rain before, and while it was a memorable experience, it wasn’t entirely pleasant, especially due to the rain getting heavier and heavier by the second, but none of that bothered him because he was kissing you. Because it was your lips moving against his, your hands running through his hair, your body pressed up against his.
When you broke apart for air, Tyler rested his forehead against yours.
“So, did I win you over?”
“Hmm,” you smiled. “Maybe if you bring me some towels…”
Tyler let out a laugh and leant in to peck your lips again. “Comin’ right up, darlin’.”
#tyler owens#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens x you#twisters#twisters x reader#twisters x you#tyler owens fanfic#twisters fanfic#twisters 2024
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Every Season After | j.yh 정윤호
pairing + genre,, childhood!bestfriend!yunho x reader, fluff, childhood best friends to lovers, slight angst if you squint, each timestamp represents a memory (written in a linear timeline)
a/n,, just had a sudden burst of urge to write this :) & i wanted to try something new hehe
“Because of you, i laugh a little harder, cry a little less, and smile a lot more.”
୨୧ ‘ masterlist ‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹
DECEMBER 5 2005 ⋆₊˚
5:30PM, Winter. By mid-afternoon, the light, once bold and golden, softened into a pale silvery haze and the shadows began to stretch lazily across the snow-blanketed playground. The air grew sharper, filled with the familiar yet unsettling tang of frost that promised to linger long after the sun has disappeared. By the time you look up again from making snow ducks, yet another day has gone by with the apartment street-lamps flickering to life. Everybody has gone home now. It was just you and another boy. He was crouched near his army of snow ducks, wearing a thick navy parka dusted with flecks of snow. Even with his rosy cheeks and reddened fingertips, he was carefully adjusting the wing of a snow duck. You eyed his every move, but he must have felt it. “Still here?” He said, without looking up. You flinched, ears reddening, “I-I didn’t mean to stare!” He put down his duck maker and walked over, boots crunching loudly against the packed snow. Reaching out a hand, he said “I’m Yunho, I’m turning six this year, let’s become friends” After the brief and awkward exchange of names, there you were, kneeling beside him, scooping up fresh snow, transforming the playground into a battleground. And on that very night, the snow ducks stood as silent witnesses to the beginning of something new — a friendship forged in the harsh December winter.
APRIL 17 2008 ⋆₊˚
2:14PM, Spring. The Spring season had just begun. The rain came down in relentless sheets, pounding against the school roof, turning the courtyard into a mirror of rippling puddles. While everybody padded off under their multi-coloured umbrellas, you stood there squatting at the front gate, clutching your bag to your chest. Your umbrella. You'd forgotten it. Again. You were nine back then, so instead of running in the rain, your hands tightened against the grip on your bag, vision blurring - not just from the rain, but from the hot sting of tears welling up at the prospect of not being able to make it home. "Forgot something, didn't you?" the sudden voice made you jump, turning to see yunho standing there, his slightly taller frame partially blocking the rain. His dark hair was damp from the drizzle, and he wore his usual dimple smile. "I-I..." your voice wavered, you didn't know why the tears were threatening to spill over. He stepped closer, his free hand reaching out to tilt the umbrella over the both of you. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to cry over something like this, I've got you." Both of you walked side by side, the small umbrella forcing you closer together. He held it high enough to shield you, though his shoulder was starting to get wet. "You're getting soaked, Yunho." He shrugged, "I'll live. What matters is getting you home dry."
OCTOBER 23 2012 ⋆₊˚
8:16PM, Autumn. You were both 13 now. By then, Yunho had grown a head taller than you and you no longer could tease him about his height. "Happy birthday, dummy." You grinned, holding out a small, slightly crumpled box wrapped in bright blue paper. Yunho blinked, staring at the box in your hands. "I saved up. I know how much you wanted it, so...yeah." Yunho took the box and tore into the wrapping, his clumsy fingers fumbling with the tape. Inside was a red baseball cap, one he'd been eyeing in the baseball store for weeks. For a moment, Yunho was speechless. "This is... really cool, holy shit you're the best!" You lit the candle, his face glowing in the flickering light, softening the sharp lines he was starting to grow into. "Now make a wish, birthday boy." He closed his eyes for a moment, then blew out the candle in one breath. "What'd you wish for, hm?" You teased, nudging his arm. "Can't tell you," he said, leaning back on his hands. "But... I think it already came true."
JUNE 26 2015 ⋆₊˚
4:26PM, Summer. You’ve just gotten the news of Yunho’s successful audition. There’s a burst of hurt in your chest, dazzling and gnawing. You know you should be happy for him for pursuing his dreams but your face burns and so do your eyes, knot thick in your throat. Before you know it, you are slipping off your shoes in front of his doorstep, fighting the internal battle to will back tears. yunho’s brows shoot up when he opens the door to your face crumpling. One look at his face was enough to send the water crashing down. Had it not been Yunho, you’d feel like an attention seeker, but you held him tight, so tight against your chest as if you were afraid of him slipping away from your grip. Without question, he swept you up into his arms, huge warm hand running up and down your back. How much has he grown? Was his hands always this big? Were you always this small? He kept you there for a long moment, before peeling himself off of you to look at your face. Your breath was still hitching unevenly, coming in shallow, jagged gasps that caught painfully in your throat. Each inhale was sharp and shaky, as though you were trying to draw air through a tangled knot in your chest. You stared at him red-eyed, snot running from your nose. He looked you straight in the eye, mumbling “I will never ever leave you. I’ll be back in no time. Pinky-promise?” and that made you feel a whole lot better.
DECEMBER 5 2018 ⋆₊˚
5:30PM, Winter. Three years had passed since then. It might have been the nostalgic faint scent of frost lingering in the air or even the all too familiar row of wooden benches that got you squatting at the edge of the playground, cold biting at your cheeks. But there it was. Your eyes landed on an abandoned yellow snow duck maker in the middle of the playground and it was enough to send memories rushing back into your head. Every detail was painful, really — the spot under the slide where Yunho used to make his snow ducks with you, the echo of laughter that once filled the air, and the way your heart had felt so much at ease. A lump formed in your throat, tightening again with each passing second. Your chest ached and your vision blurred just like it once did on an April afternoon back in 2008. Your lips quivered, tears threatening to break through again. You hated how weak you were.
“You’re always crying”
You looked up and your breath hitched. There he was. Yunho. His face was the same yet completely different — the soft plump boyish roundness now replaced by sharper angles. The way he carried himself changed too,, his lanky frame filled out, movements steady and confident, no longer the awkward shuffle of the boy you remembered. Yet, all it took was his smile to catch the faint glimpse of the boy you used to know — that damn dimple.
Your heart froze for a moment before it began to race uncontrollably. "Yunho..." You blinked, as if your mind was trying to reconcile the boy from your memories with the man standing before you. "You're really just gonna squat there and cry in front of me?" he teased, stepping closer. "Some things never change."
You hastily wiped off the stinging tears in your eyes, too embarrassed to face him, sniffling. "I wasn't crying" you muttered defensively, though your shaky voice and tear-stained cheeks said otherwise. He squatted beside you, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “Miss me?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low murmur. You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak, your chest tightening as the weight of his presence filled the air between you.
"Then kiss me." he whispered.
Your breath hitched again, the world narrowing until it was just the two of you, the snowy evening wrapping around you just like that same day you’ve met him for the first time. And before you could think, before you could second-guess, your heart answered for you.
#ateez imagines#ateez fanfic#ateez x reader#ateez oneshot#ateez drabbles#ateez fic#kpopff#ateez fluff#ateez x y/n#ateez yunho#yunho ateez#atz scenarios#atz imagines#atz yunho#atz fluff#ateez#kpop fluff#yunho x reader#jeong yunho#yunho#ateez ff#atz fanfic#atz fic#kpopfic#atz drabbles#atz#atz x reader#yunho fluff#yunho fanfic#yunho ff
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tethered | caleb
⤜ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ- “Do you even realize,” he whispered, his voice low and uneven, “what you’re doing to me?”
You barely had a chance to respond before he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with a fervor that left no room for hesitation. The kiss was deeper, more desperate than before, as if he needed it, needed you, to steady the chaos inside him. His fingers tangled in your hair, holding you in place, making escape an impossibility—not that you wanted to.
“You don’t get it,” he rasped, his voice breaking as his grip on you tightened. “I'll never let you go. Not again. Not ever. Not after this.” His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look away. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Whatever it costs.”
(Or... a continuation of Caleb's limited 5 star memory: 'Painful Signal'.)
⤜ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ- caleb x female reader
⤜ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ- angst, smut, & fluff
⤜ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ- 6.9k
⤜ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ- nsfw, mdni, dom!caleb, spoilers and references to caleb’s myth/lore (lucid dreams) and bond story (rain's embrace), continuation of caleb’s limited five star memory (painful signal), themes of depression and trauma, mentions of the explosion, mentions of death, angst (slight-ish), possessive and obsessive behavior, implied virginity loss (mc and caleb), breast play, oral sex, fingering, sex toys (is caleb’s bionic arm considered a sex toy?), marking (biting), dirty talk, penetration (p in v), rough sex, unprotected sex, size kink, creampie, overstimulation, and mentions of ownership.
⤜ ɴᴏᴛᴇ- hiii, caleb finally urged me to post my first fanfic here, lol. when i played through his myth and five star memory, i couldn't help but feel that their interaction needed to be explored more. at first, i wanted to end this with just angst but i couldn't help it, i had to give caleb what he deserved after all. also english isn't my first language but i hope you enjoy!
"If that's what it takes to feel you, I'll accept it." he said, his voice steady but lined with an ache that made your heart clench.
The cold, unyielding touch of Caleb’s metal fingers sent a chill through your skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of your hand. His grip was deliberate, almost tender, as though he feared you might vanish if he let go.
You studied his face, the shadows beneath his eyes, the faint tension in his jaw. “But most of the time, I wish your pain could be lessened,” you murmured, your gaze drifting to the metal arm. A pang of guilt and sorrow surged within you, each thought of what he must have endured hitting like a blow. Images of him being in pain clawed at your mind.
You pulled your hand away, an instinctive retreat from the weight of it all. Caleb’s expression faltered, the fleeting moment of connection slipping from his grasp. His longing was palpable, but you couldn’t bear to stay still. Anger bubbled in your chest, white-hot and unforgiving.
“Is this the Fleet’s doing...?” you snapped, your voice trembling as fury replaced grief. “They won’t get away with this.”
The thought of what they had done to him—what they had stolen from him—burned in your veins. You turned sharply, ready to storm out, the resolve to confront his tormentors burning within you. But before you could reach the door, Caleb’s left arm shot out, his grip firm but careful, pulling you back into the solid wall of his chest.
"You think you can just... come and go as you please?" His voice rasped, low and raw. His hold tightened, and you felt the tremor in his body—the weight he carried, the pain he bore alone.
Caleb’s left arm anchored you against his chest with unrelenting force, his breath ghosting over your neck. “It’s even more painful,” he rasped, “when you take risks for my sake.”
His words carved through your anger, leaving only the hollow ache of understanding. "Is that so?" you whispered, your voice softer now, like a balm against the storm raging within him as you met his intense, stormy eyes.
Turning to face him, you let yourself fall into his fractured orbit, your arms slipping around his waist. You lunged forward, the force of your embrace tipping both of you against the edge of the hospital bed. The cool sheets crumpled beneath you, but the world outside ceased to exist. His chest rose and fell rapidly beneath your touch, but he didn’t resist.
"Then hold me, Caleb. Do it tightly. Use your right hand," you murmured, pressing your face into his chest. The plea hung in the air like a fragile doll wanting to be held.
His hesitation lasted only a moment before he obeyed, his arms closed around you—one warm, one cold, both unyielding. His bionic arm caged you as though it were the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.
"You're the only one," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, "who can ease my pain."
His grip told you everything his words could not: the fear of losing you again, the torment etched into his very being, and the solace he sought in your presence. As the machines hummed on, the pain and anger dulled, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.
You looked up at him, tears pooling in your eyes, threatening to spill over. The weight of your emotions clawed at your chest, raw and unrelenting. The memories of the explosion tore through you—flames consuming your home, the screams, the suffocating realization that Caleb and your grandmother were gone. And now here he was, alive but scarred, his very existence rewritten into something both familiar and foreign.
"I thought I lost you," your voice cracked, trembling under the strain of your confession. "For so long, I thought you were gone…" A tear slipped down your cheek, and you saw the flicker of guilt in his eyes—a storm of regret and longing that mirrored your own.
Caleb’s jaw tightened, and his hand—the bionic one—cupped your cheek with surprising gentleness. The cold metal was jarring against your skin, but there was a tenderness in the gesture that spoke of his desperation to keep you within reach.
"I never wanted to leave you, pip-squeak." he murmured, his voice strained. His thumb brushed away the tear trailing down your cheek. "It tore me apart."
His voice dropped, gravelly and harsh. "But knowing that there are people out there who’d use you, hurt you, for what you are—"
Your breath hitched, and the words struck like a hammer, cracking open wounds you thought had scarred over. "You don’t understand," you whispered, your fingers holding him tighter. "Losing you wasn’t just pain—it was like losing a piece of myself. And then to find you like this…"
Your gaze dropped to his bionic arm, the sharp edges glinting in the artificial light. "I can protect myself, you know, I would've preferred that you didn't have to go through all of this pain if it meant I had you by my side—"
His grip on you tightened, his other hand moving to cover yours, grounding you. "I understand you more than you think," he said darkly, his eyes narrowing. "Do you think I don’t remember the look on your face every time you put yourself in danger? Every time you thought someone else’s life was worth more than yours?"
You flinched at the ferocity in his tone, but his words wrapped around you like chains. "Caleb…" you began, but he cut you off.
"No," he said sharply, his bionic fingers brushing against the back of your neck. "You don’t get it. If someone hurt you—no, if they tried to take you from me—I’d bury the world if it meant keeping you safe."
A shiver coursed through you at the steel in his voice, the unspoken promise in his words. His lips pressed into a thin line as he searched your face, looking for a flicker of understanding—or perhaps forgiveness.
Tears finally spilled down your cheeks, and your voice broke as you asked, "But what about you, Caleb? What about the pain you carry? The things they did to you?" Your hand hesitated before resting on his bionic arm. "You can’t shoulder everything alone. You shouldn’t have to."
His gaze softened for a moment, the harsh edges of his demeanor cracking under the weight of your plea. "I don’t care about the pain, it doesn't even hurt anymore," he admitted, his voice low. "I’d endure it a thousand times over if it meant you’d never feel an ounce of it."
"But I feel it anyway," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing you like this, it's like they tore everything from me too."
Caleb’s breath hitched, his grip faltering for the first time. His forehead pressed against yours.
"I know pip-squeak, but I’m not going anywhere," he said finally, his voice a raw promise. "Never again. Even if I have to take you far away from this world, you’ll never lose me. Do you understand?"
The tears in your eyes blurred Caleb’s face as he held you tightly, the cold press of his bionic arm against your back a constant reminder of the lengths he had gone to. But as the emotions churned within you, they pulled loose a memory, vivid and sharp from one of your nights in Skyhaven after your reunion.
The rain had fallen in heavy sheets that night, soaking the park. You sat there, drenched despite your jacket, while Caleb loomed over you, holding an umbrella that shielded you both from the downpour. His presence was as overbearing as it was comforting, and the tension between you had been as thick as the storm clouds above.
"How long do you plan to lock me up this time?" you had asked, your voice sharp with frustration and resignation. "A month? A year? Or forever?"
Caleb didn’t flinch at the accusation, his expression calm, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of something deeper—possessiveness, maybe even desperation. He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, the rain hammering on the umbrella above.
"If every problem pulls me further away from you," he said quietly, his voice as steady as the storm around you, "then I’ll spend a lifetime searching for the answers."
You had stared at him, a mixture of anger and confusion twisting in your chest. "But until that final moment," he continued, his voice softening, "we’ll always be together."
His words had left you bristling, torn between disbelief and the undeniable sincerity in his tone. You’d wanted to push back, to defy the invisible chains he always seemed to wrap around you. "What if my friends and colleagues from the Association come looking for me?" you demanded, testing the limits of his resolve.
He laughed, the sound low and quiet, yet it sent a chill down your spine. His eyes had glinted with something unsettling, a mix of amusement and absolute certainty. "In that case," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "I’ll hold a funeral they can attend. So they’ll think you’re gone forever."
Before you could respond, he had gently extended his hand to you, palm up, waiting for you to take it. The rain fell harder around you, but beneath the umbrella, there was an unsettling kind of stillness. Hesitantly, you had reached out, your fingers brushing against his, and the tension in his shoulders had eased the moment you accepted his touch.
Now, standing here in this room with his arms wrapped tightly around you, the memory struck you like a bolt of lightning. You realized that Caleb had always been this way—possessive, protective, willing to go to unimaginable lengths to keep you safe. Even when you were children, when the world felt so much smaller, he had been the same. You remembered the time he locked you in the attic of your grandmother’s house to protect you from the neighborhood bullies.
It was in his nature—this fierce, unwavering obsession with keeping you close, even when it hurt you both. The realization was a heavy one, bittersweet in its clarity. Despite it all, Caleb hadn’t truly changed at all. He was still the boy you grew up with, who would do anything to shield you from harm, even if it meant breaking you to keep you safe.
Caleb’s arms tightened around you, bringing you back from your reverie, his embrace almost desperate as if holding you harder might stop the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But you didn’t speak. The silence stretched, heavy and palpable, and for the first time, Caleb’s confidence seemed to waver.
“What’s wrong?” he asked softly, his voice laced with unease. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his intense gaze searching your face. “You’re… too quiet. Did I say something that—”
You didn’t let him finish. Acting on impulse, you reached up, your hands trembling slightly as you cupped his face. His words died in his throat as your lips pressed against his, soft but firm, silencing his uncertainty.
For a moment, Caleb froze, his breath catching as if he couldn’t quite process what was happening. Then, his right arm shifted slightly, careful not to press too hard against you, while his other hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. The kiss deepened, his initial shock giving way to something raw and unspoken.
“Why did you...” he began as he pulled away slightly, his voice a whisper, but he didn’t finish the question. He didn’t need to. The answer was in the way you looked at him, your eyes still shimmering with tears.
“You’re here, alive.” you murmured, your voice unsteady. “I can't lose you again and regret not doing that sooner."
The tension in his shoulders eased slightly, but the unease didn’t fully leave his eyes. “You’ll never lose me,” he said once again, his grip tightening as if to emphasize the point. “Not now, not ever. I won’t let it happen.”
You nodded and leaned in to kiss him again, but he frowned, his jaw hard. You paused, "What is it?"
Caleb’s gaze burned into yours, his resolve visibly trembling as if your kiss moments ago had shattered something fragile inside him. His grip tightened, anchoring you against him, while he cradled your face with a tenderness that stood at odds with the intensity in his eyes.
“Do you even realize,” he whispered, his voice low and uneven, “what you’re doing to me?”
You barely had a chance to respond before he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours with a fervor that left no room for hesitation. The kiss was deeper, more desperate than before, as if he needed it, needed you, to steady the chaos inside him. His fingers tangled in your hair, holding you in place, making escape an impossibility—not that you wanted to.
“You don’t get it,” he rasped, his voice breaking as his grip on you tightened. “I'll never let you go. Not again. Not ever. Not after this.” His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look away. “I’ll do whatever it takes. Whatever it costs.”
His words were suffocating, wrapping around you like a second skin. You could see it—how deeply the thought of losing you terrified him, how far he was willing to go to keep you with him, even if it meant crossing every line.
“Caleb...” you murmured, your voice barely audible. But he silenced you with another kiss, softer this time but no less intense, as if trying to convince himself that you were still there, finally his, and no force in the world could take you away.
When he pulled back, his gaze bore into yours, unwavering. “I can't hold myself back,” he rasped, his voice trembling with conviction. "Not anymore."
“I’ve tried,” he continued, his voice raw and unsteady. “When we were younger... I’ve tried to give you space, to let you breathe, but with every second you were away from me, I felt like the world took it as a chance and ripped you away from me.”
His forehead pressed against yours, his breath warm and shallow. “You’re all I have left. Do you understand that? If I lose you... there won’t be anything left of me.”
The intensity in his words sent a shiver through you, a mixture of fear and something far more complicated swirling in your chest. You opened your mouth to speak, but he cut you off.
“You’re mine,” he said, the possessiveness in his tone leaving no room for doubt. “No one else’s. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.”
Caleb’s gaze darkened, his restraint visibly unraveling as the tension between you swelled to its breaking point. Without warning, he surged forward, capturing your lips in a fiery kiss that left you breathless. His grip on you was firm, almost possessive, his bionic arm pulling you impossibly closer while his other hand slid up to cradle the back of your head.
His lips trailed away from yours, brushing down to the curve of your jaw and then to your neck, the sensation sending shivers to coarse through your entire body. His breath was warm against your skin, each touch of his lips a mix of desperation and barely-contained need. For a moment, it felt like he might lose himself entirely, his control slipping with every passing second.
But just as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your neck, he froze. His arms are still around you, not quite sure if he wanted to pull you closer or to push you away. He leaned his forehead against your shoulder, his breath heavy and uneven.
“I…” His voice was hoarse, trembling with the effort to hold himself back. “I need you to tell me if this is okay.” He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes burning with a dangerous mix of longing and uncertainty. “If you want me to stop, say it now. Please. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”
His control was slipping, but he was still giving you the choice. You smiled softly. Oh, Caleb.
You reached up, your fingers trembling as you cupped his face, your thumb brushing across his cheek. "It's okay," you whispered, your voice soft but firm. "I want this... I want you."
A quiet, broken sound escaped him, like a weight had been lifted from his chest, and before you could say another word, he leaned in again, this time more urgently, his lips claiming yours with a desperate intensity.
His lips moved down to your neck again, this time without hesitation, his kiss filled with a mixture of tenderness and something darker, more possessive. His breath was hot against your skin, and his control, once so fragile, seemed to finally break as he gave in to the overwhelming need to have you.
Caleb lifted you up by the waist, placing you gently on the narrow bed, his bionic arm carefully maneuvering you onto your back while his warm hand slid up the curve of your side.
You felt his gaze on you, dark with hunger and unbridled with lust. It wasn’t just the way his eyes lingered—it was the sheer intensity of it, as though you were his axis, the very thing that tethered his sanity that's currently on the brink of snapping. It sent a shiver down your spine, your body betraying you with a tremor you couldn’t suppress.
"I've always wanted to mark you, you know." he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "To leave something on you that everyone would see."
Leaning in, he began trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the slender column of your neck. His lips brushed over your racing pulse before he latched onto your throat, sucking and nipping until he left a vivid hickey blooming across your flesh.
As if satisfied by his work, he hummed, the sound reverberating through your skin. "Now, I can leave as many as I want."
Pulling back, he pressed a quick kiss on your jaw as his hands reached beneath your shirt, slipping past the material to meet the soft swell of your breasts covered by your bra.
You trembled, the cold metal of his right arm harsh against the warmth of your skin. Suddenly, his touch retreated as if seared, hyper aware of every reaction you've been making.
He asked, his voice low. "Are you alright?" Hesitant, he reached out with his right arm only to pull back and reach out with his left hand instead. He cradled your jaw, and you could feel the tremor of his fingers against your skin.
You covered his hand with your own, giving it a gentle squeeze as you gazed up at him with a reassuring smile. "Yes, Caleb," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I haven't done this before..."
Your words seemed to reassure the storm brewing within him, a desperate hunger that couldn't be sated. He crashed his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with a fervor that stole your breath away. His hands kneaded your breasts roughly through your shirt, his bionic fingers leaving faint indents on your skin as he groped and squeezed.
"It's alright, baby. I'll take care of you." he muttered in between.
He tore his mouth from yours, his breathing ragged as he stared down at you with wild, almost feral eyes. "You drive me crazy," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "I can't... I need..."
He couldn't seem to find the words, his mind too consumed with lust to form a coherent thought. Instead, he acted on instinct, his body moving on its own accord as he ripped your shirt off, you couldn't be bothered to react, your mind hazy. Your bra followed soon after, the flimsy material no match for his desperation.
You gasped as the cool air hit your bare skin, your nipples pebbling under his heated gaze. He groaned, before whispering to himself, "I can't believe you're real."
You wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but as he drank in the sight of you, you could see the way his eyes glinted with a primal hunger that sent a bolt of electricity straight to your skin.
"Caleb," you breathed, your voice heavy with want. "Please..."
Please what? You weren't sure, but you knew that you needed him. Needed to feel him, skin to skin, heart to heart. You needed him as much as he needed you.
He didn't need to be told twice, Caleb lowered his head, his mouth latching onto one of your hardened nipples. He suckled greedily, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud as his metal hand pinched and rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger.
Your back arched as you cried out, your fingers tangled in his hair. "Caleb—"
He lavished your breasts with attention, alternating between licks, nips and bites until your skin was flushed and aching with need. He looked up, his hot mouth still wrapped around one of your nipples, "Hmmm?" he hummed, his eyes dazed.
"P-Please... I need—"
His hips rocked against yours, stopping your train of thought, the rough fabric of his pants rubbing deliciously against your core. The layers of clothing separated you still, but you could feel the heat of him.
A low, deep chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against your sensitive skin. "Please, what?" he murmured, his voice a sinful purr as he nuzzled into valley between your breasts. "Come on, baby. Tell me what you need..."
You shook your head, heat creeping up your cheeks. "You're so—annoying. Y-You know what I want..."
Gently, he lifted your waist to swiftly pull your pants off, you barely got the chance to register the action, only to feel the cold air as it enveloped your bare legs.
As if sensing your surprise, you felt him smile against your skin before inching down. He placed a single, open-mouthed kiss on your navel before trailing his lips lower, his breath hot and heavy against your aching core. Your hips jerked, a needy mewl escaping your lips as you felt the first brush of his tongue against your clothed sex. He licked a slow, deliberate stripe over your folds, the damp fabric of your panties the only barrier between his mouth and your dripping flesh.
A low groan resonated from deep within his chest as he tasted you, the flavor of your arousal seeping through the thin material. “Fuck, baby…” he growled, his voice muffled against your sex. “I dreamed of this so many times, I can’t believe I’m finally tasting you for real..”
You closed your eyes, shuddering because of his words. Caleb had always been teasing and confident, but hearing him say those words when everything had been innocent and playful between the two of you ever since made your stomach clench.
Slowly, he peeled your panties off, tossing them carelessly to the side. Exposed and bare, he could see your glistening folds, swollen and practically weeping with need.
“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his tone devoid of teasing or malice—just an honest observation, quiet and unfiltered.
You shivered. His eyes, sharp and unyielding, flicked back to meet yours, and the intensity in them made your heart skip. There was no judgment, no amusement—just an unwavering focus that left you feeling raw and exposed.
He reached forward with his left hand, his thumb pressing against the seam of your folds, and you felt the slick coating his digit as he swiped up, and there he started to circle your clit with heavy pressure.
"Fuck—" you whined, the foreign pleasure making you throw your head back.
Caleb chuckled, purring, "There, there...."
You could practically feel him smirking without even having to look at him and you wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug off his face. But you'd do it another time, now you'd let him take his time with you.
Leaning down, Caleb left open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, his tongue a warm, wet brand against your sensitive skin.
"Spread out like a feast, just for me," he murmured, his voice a low, reverent rumble. He breathed hotly against your dripping slit, feeling your body jerk in anticipation. Slowly, teasingly, he dragged the flat of his tongue along your folds, a long, languid lick that had your hips bucking.
"Caleb..." you breathed, your body starting to squirm.
"Stay still." he ordered, his voice muffled.
You peered down and saw how tightly his hands gripped your thighs, you're sure he'd leave a bruise. He was holding you open, keeping you exposed to his ravenous mouth.
You felt his lips seal around your entrance as he sucked, his tongue pushed inside, delving deep, the slick muscle stroking your velvety walls with unhurried, sensual glides. Then, his lips found your clit once more, wrapping around the throbbing bud as he suckled gently, his tongue flicking against it with maddening slowness. You could practically feel it pulsing against his mouth, the evidence of your growing arousal impossible to ignore. He lapped at it, circled it, teased it mercilessly until it was swollen and straining.
You wanted more. Needed more.
You reached out, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging almost painfully as you ground your hips against his face, desperate for some much-needed friction. But he held you still, his strong hands gripping your thighs, keeping you immobile.
Each pass of his tongue sent jolts of electricity zipping up your spine, your body arching and writhing in a futile attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure.
As you teetered on the brink, he pulled back, his chin glistening with your juices. Before you could voice your protest, he circled your entrance teasingly, the pad of his metal thumb tracing the swollen rim, dipping inside just barely before retreating again. Each brush against your sensitive flesh drew a breathy moan from your lips, your hips undulating helplessly, chasing his touch.
"I want to see you wrapped around my metal fingers..." he groaned, his voice a low, approving rumble. He eased a single finger inside your fluttering channel, the cool metal a delicious contrast to your scorching heat. Slowly, almost torturously, he pushed it deeper, inch by excruciating inch, until he was buried to the knuckle. He paused there, letting you adjust to the intrusion, feeling your silky walls clench around the digit.
With agonizing slowness, he began to move, pumping his finger in and out of your dripping sex. Each drag against your walls, each curl of his knuckle against that special spot deep inside, dragged a broken moan from your throat. He was relentless, his pace unhurried, determined to take you apart piece by piece until you were nothing but a writhing, wanton mess beneath him.
"Y-you're so tight," Caleb grunted, his finger pumping faster, harder, plunging into your soaked heat. "I love how you grip me like this." His words were punctuated by the lewd squelches of your arousal, your walls clenching desperately around the invading digit.
A second finger joined the first, stretching you wider, filling you fuller. He pumped them in tandem, in deep, rolling thrusts that had your back arching and your toes curling against the sheets. All the while, his thumb circled your clit, the rough pad rubbing against the sensitive bundle of nerves until it throbbed and pulsed with need.
"Ohh...!" you cried out as he curled his fingers just right, brushing against that special spot deep inside.
He groaned in approval, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating deliciously against your sensitive flesh. "That's it, baby... let me hear you," he encouraged, his voice a low, sinful purr.
"Caleb... hah... I can't... I'm close..." you gasped, your chest heaving with each ragged breath.
Caleb pulled back, he gazed up at you with hooded eyes. "Not yet, baby," he murmured, his voice a low, authoritative rumble. "I want you to come on my cock, nowhere else."
He sat back on his knees, his hands gripping your hips as he tugged your body towards him, positioning you at the edge of the bed. With one swift, powerful movement, he tore off his pants. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, and with a swift, impatient tug, he shucked them off, freeing his straining cock.
It bobbed before you, long and thick and so hard it curved slightly towards his stomach. The broad head was an angry red, the skin pulled taut and flushed, the slit in the tip dripping with the evidence of his arousal. Your mouth watered at the sight, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you imagined how he would finally feel inside you.
Caleb gripped himself, his left hand wrapping around the thick shaft, stroking it slowly, deliberately. "You want this, don't you, pip-squeak?" he growled, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance, the tip catching on your swollen, slick folds. "You want me to fill this greedy little pussy until you're stretched wide and all mine?"
He rolled his hips, rubbing the underside of his shaft against your clit, the textured skin catching on the sensitive bundle of nerves until your vision nearly whited out from the intensity of it. Your hands flew to his shoulders, your nails digging into the hard muscle as you arched into him, your body crying out for more.
"Please, Caleb," you whimpered, your voice thin and reedy with need. "I want... I need..."
"Tell me," he demanded, his voice a low, commanding bark. "Tell me what you need, baby. Beg me for it."
Almost desperately, he added, "Please... please..."
Your stomach ached as he pressed harder, the head of his cock pushing insistently against your entrance, the crown popping inside your slick heat, stretching you around his girth. The sensation was exquisite, the promise of what was to come making your toes curl and your thighs tremble.
"I need your cock," you gasped out, your voice raw and desperate. "Please, Caleb... I need you inside me."
A dark, wicked grin split his face, his eyes glinting with a feral, hungry light. "That's my girl," he praised, his voice a low, sinful purr.
He leaned in, his lips pressing a soft kiss against your jaw, he whispered, "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight, until all you can feel is me, deep inside of you."
With that, he surged forward, the thick head of his cock splitting you open, sinking into your welcoming heat with a low groan that rumbled through his chest. Your back arched, your nails digging into his shoulders as you took him inside, your velvety walls stretching deliciously around his invading length. He didn't stop until he was buried to the hilt, his heavy balls nestled against your ass, his cock pulsing deep inside your core.
You gasped, "Oh..." The unfamiliar stretch made your thighs tremble.
Caleb paused, giving you a moment to adjust to the feeling of being so utterly filled, so completely stretched around his thick cock. He peppered your face with soft kisses, murmuring words of praise and encouragement against your skin.
"You feel incredible," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and restraint. "So tight and hot and perfect around me."
The uncomfortable stretch didn’t last long, your body slowly adjusting as the tension turned into something else entirely. The yearning grew, your thoughts clouded by need. Every second of stillness felt unbearable, the ache for him to move consuming you.
Hurriedly, you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation, “You can move now…”
Slowly, almost hesitantly, he began to move. His hips pulled back, the drag of his length against your walls sent sparks of sensation crackling through your nerve endings. And then he pushed forward again, harder this time, his length plundering your depths with a newfound urgency.
A broken moan tumbled from your lips as he set a steady rhythm, each powerful thrust driving the breath from your lungs and stoking the heat building in your core. The pain began to recede, replaced by a pleasure so intense it bordered on overwhelming.
"Hah... C-Caleb-!"
"That's it, baby. You're taking me so well..."
Caleb could feel your body starting to relax, could feel your hips beginning to move in tandem with his. Emboldened, he increased his pace, his thrusts growing harder, more insistent as he chased his own release. The obscene slap of flesh against flesh filled the room, punctuated by your needy moans and his grunts of exertion.
"Do you feel how big I am, pip-squeak?" he purred, flexing his hips to emphasize his point. "I'm so deep inside this sweet little pussy. Filling you up in a way no one else will ever be able to."
His hand slid down your body, your skin flushed and heated beneath his touch. He cupped your mound, his fingers brushing against where you were joined, feeling the way your lips stretched obscenely around his girth.
"I love seeing your tight little cunt so full," Caleb growled, his eyes glittering with a predatory light. "It's like this hungry little hole was made just for my cock."
"C-Caleb....!" you whined, lips parted open. His words made your skin hot and your brain go hay wire.
You could feel every rigid inch of him as he hilted inside you, his heavy balls nestling against your bottom. Your body had never felt so full, so deliciously stuffed. It was almost too much, the stretch pushing you to your limits, until you swore you could feel him in your throat.
He let out a choked groan, his breath hitching as he clung to the moment. "W-Wait," he stammered, his voice thick with need, "I need to feel more of you..."
Your body trembled under the weight of his words, a soft, helpless mewl escaping your lips. "M-More..?" you echoed, your voice barely audible, laced with vulnerability and the same yearning that reflected in his gaze.
Caleb pressed a wet kiss on your cheek and gripped your thighs, his large hands easily encircling your slender legs as he pushed them up and back, folding you nearly in half. He raised them high, draping them over his broad, muscular shoulders until your knees were pressed against your chest and your ankles crossed behind his neck.
Caleb leaned down, bracing his elbows on either side of your head as he pistoned in and out of your dripping sex. His hips slammed against yours, the new angle allowed him to plunge even deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each driving thrust.
He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to tangle with yours. You could taste yourself on him, the flavor of your arousal lingering on his lips and tongue as he explored your mouth. Your hands flew to his hair, gripping the strands tightly as you kissed him back with a fervor that matched his own.
"That's it, baby," he panted against your lips, his voice rough and urgent. "Take my cock. Fuck, you're so deep like this. I can feel every inch of this tight little cunt squeezing me."
Caleb's mouth trailed hungry kisses along the column of your throat, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. He latched onto your shoulder, biting down until you cried out, your fingers scrabbling at his back. The sharp sting of his teeth piercing your flesh pushed you closer to the edge, your pleasure spiked with a hint of pain. Your sex rippled around him, the velvet walls squeezing his pistoning length as he fucked you with wild abandon.
"Caleb!" you keened, your head thrown back, your body bowing off the bed. "I'm going to... I'm going to come!"
"That's it, baby. Come for me," he urged, his hips slapping against yours with renewed fervor.
Your world exploded into a million pieces as your orgasm crashed over you, your sex clamping down around him like a vice. You cried out, seeing white. Your nails raked down his back, leaving red welts in their wake as you clung to him, anchored against the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm.
But even as you trembled and shuddered through the aftershocks, Caleb didn't stop. He continued to pound into you, his length plundering your walls as he chased his own release, the wet squelching sounds of your spasming cunt being fucked senseless echoing the walls. Your body knew the sensation was almost too much to bear, your sensitive flesh crying out for respite as he drove into you again and again.
"I can't... it's too much..." you whimpered, your voice thin and reedy as your trembling hands pushed weakly against his chest, though you lacked the strength to follow through.
"Shh, I've got you," Caleb murmured, his voice a mix of strained need and steadfast reassurance. He leaned in, pressing his forehead gently to yours as his movements slowed slightly, yet his intensity didn’t waver. "I need to fill you up, baby," he whispered, his tone low and fervent. "I just need to... let me take care of you."
You whined softly, tears brimming in your eyes as the intensity of it all overwhelmed you, your toes curling. Caleb’s gaze softened, though the desperation lingering in his expression didn’t waver. He leaned in, brushing his lips tenderly against your damp cheeks, kissing your tears away as if to soothe the overwhelming sensations within you.
"I know it’s too much, b-baby," he murmured, his voice a mix of huskiness and gentle coaxing. "Just take it for me, yeah? You're doing so good for me..."
His hips slammed against yours, the rhythm growing almost sloppy now, driven by sheer desperation, yet each movement was still hard and fast, claiming you in every way. His breath was hot against your skin, his lips trailing wet, possessive kisses along your jawline.
"You’re mine," he murmured, the words rough and trembling with unrestrained emotion. His voice dipped lower, almost a growl, as he repeated with fervent intensity, "Just mine. Finally mine."
You closed your eyes, your heart pounding as you wrapped your arms around his nape, pulling him closer, as if anchoring yourself to him. Your voice trembled, raw with emotion, as you whispered hoarsely, "I'm yours..."
The words seemed to shatter something within Caleb, unraveling the last threads of his restraint. Just hearing you say you were his was enough to push him to the brink, his entire being consumed by the overwhelming need to claim you.
"Fuck, I'm coming," he grunted, his hips slamming against yours one last time. "Here it comes, baby. Take it all."
You felt a sudden warmth spread through you as Caleb reached his peak, his release surging inside you in long, pulsing waves that left you breathless. The intimacy of the moment consumed you, your body trembling against his as you held onto him, feeling every shudder that rippled through his frame.
Caleb kissed you again, more gently this time, before he carefully lowered your legs from his shoulders, easing them down to rest on the mattress. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he feared breaking the fragile moment you shared. He collapsed beside you, catching himself on his elbows to keep from resting his weight on you accidentally.
The room was quiet except for the soft rhythm of your breathing, mingling with Caleb’s. The air was warm, the atmosphere tender, as the fiery passion that had consumed you both finally ebbed into a calm serenity. His bionic arm rested protectively against your waist, his other hand brushing gentle circles along your shoulder as he held you close, your bodies tangled together.
“You okay?” Caleb’s voice was a low murmur, his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. There was a vulnerability in his tone that made your heart ache.
You nodded against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. “I’m okay,” you whispered, your voice tired but content. “What about you?”
He let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through you. “I should be asking you that, pip-squeak.” he replied, pressing a lingering kiss to your hair. “But... yeah. I’m good. Better than good.”
There was a pause, and then his bionic fingers moved, carefully tracing patterns against your skin. The coolness of the metal felt strangely soothing, a contrast to the warmth of his body. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, the edge of worry creeping into his voice.
You tilted your head to look at him, your hand coming up to cup his jaw. “You didn’t hurt me,” you reassured him softly, meeting his eyes. “Not even for a second.”
He visibly relaxed, his shoulders easing as he pulled you even closer, tucking your head beneath his chin. “Good,” he said, the word more to himself than to you. “Because I’d never forgive myself if I did.”
For a while, the two of you simply stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth. Caleb’s fingers absently played with your hair, his touch grounding and soothing. He whispered small things now and then—how much he loved you, how he’d never let anything hurt you, how you were his whole world. You answered with quiet hums, your heart swelling with every word.
As exhaustion finally began to tug at you, you felt him shift, “Sleep,” he murmured, his voice a soft command. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3 if you want to check out more of my writings, head on to here — masterlist.
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace angst#lads#lads smut#l&ds#l&ds smut#caleb smut#lads caleb#l&ds caleb#love and deepspace caleb#caleb x reader#caleb x mc#xia yi zhou#caleb myth#caleb lore#caleb angst#love and deepspace caleb x reader#love and deepspace fanfic#caleb love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deep space#love and deepspace caleb x mc#dividers by cafekitsune
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A Room of Your Own
Married!WandaNat x Reader
Summary: After getting kicked out of your college dorm, you find yourself living with two older strangers. It was never meant to be anything more than a temporary arrangement born out of necessity, but as the semester continues, something new starts to grow.
CW: Homophobia, Getting Kicked Out, Slow Burn (No sex or romance in this chapter), Age Gap
Word Count: 1.9k
A/N: I’m back from the dead, though probably not in the way you wanted or expected. I had to take a (not so) little break from one-shots and smut for the time being for some personal reasons. But I’m still finding ways to write and enjoy myself. Some of you probably have already seen this. It’s been up on AO3 for a while now. But I figured I’d post it here too.
A/N: This is my first attempt at writing any sort of slow burn, so we'll see if I can resist having them all fall into bed together in the first few chapters. I also don't know how to write an introductory chapter without making it boring as shit, so I at least made it short to spare you all. I promise it gets better.
Chapter 1 of A Room of Your Own
———————————————————
You sat, knees curled to your chest, on the curb in front of what used to be your dorm. It was late, a little after midnight, and absolutely pouring rain.
Three days. You had been in the dorms for three days and you had already been kicked out. You’d expect some pushback, going to a religious college and being queer, but nothing like this. Nothing like getting kicked out of your dorm in the middle of the night because you were making your roommates uncomfortable. You’d tried so hard to get them to like you. They seemed sweet. Not your type of people, sure, but you thought the three of you could get along just fine.
As it turns out, they were actually so repulsed by your presence they couldn’t even wait until classes started to kick you to the curb. Literally.
“Hey!” Somebody shouted from the doorway, holding a large umbrella. You turned to see her approaching and shrunk back in on yourself. You didn’t think you could handle anymore ridicule that evening.
When you didn’t respond or turn to face her, she sat down next to you, sure to cover you with the umbrella as well. She spoke softer now. “Hey. I’m sorry for what happened back there.”
You still didn’t speak, but you looked at her now, partially soaked from where she was sitting next to you on the wet concrete. “I’m Yelena.” She reached her hand out for you to shake.
You shook her hand. “Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You recognized her from your dorm floor, though you’d only ever seen her in passing.
“It’s nice to meet you as well,” she smiled softly. “I wish it were under different circumstances.”
You nodded, turning your gaze back to the raining night.
“Do you have anywhere to go? For tonight I mean. I would offer you to stay in my room, but…” she turned back to the door of the building. You both knew you couldn’t go back in there.
You shook your head. You hadn’t even thought where you would stay tonight. You could always stay in your car. It wouldn’t be the first night you’ve slept in the backseat. Still, the sopping wet clothes would surely make for a morning full of rashes and blistered skin.
Yelena sighed, looking at the ground. She was silent for a moment before she came up with an idea. “Let me call my sister. She and her wife have a massive place not so far from here. They’ll have a bedroom or two to spare.”
Before you could form a rebuttal of any sort, Yelena pushed the umbrella into your hands and dashed back inside. You tucked the umbrella between your leg and the crook of your arm, resting your head on your knees.
It wasn’t very long before Yelena was by your side again. “Okay she’s on her way. She’ll be here in about 10 minutes.”
You didn’t look at her, facing intentionally in the other direction. You felt so horrible. You just wanted to curl up and disappear. And now you were going to be picked and taken to the home of some random classmate’s sister? You try to formulate a response, a reason that you will be fine on your own, but there was nothing. It was either this or the back seat of your 1993 Toyota Corolla. Somehow, you bet Yelena wasn’t going to take that as a reasonable explanation as to why she should call off her sister.
“Are you coming with me?” You asked weakly.
She sighed and put her hand on your back. “I wasn’t planning on it, but I will if you really want me to.”
You finally turned to face her. She didn’t look thrilled at the prospect of leaving. She was probably a freshman. It was her first couple days in the dorm too and everything was so new and exciting. The last thing she wanted to do was go back home with her sister.
“No it’s okay,” you responded. The last thing you wanted was to inconvenience someone else tonight, and it’s not like a freshman you hardly knew was going to bring you much solace anyway.
She patted your back. “They’ll take good care of you, I promise.”
Before too much longer, Yelena stood up at the sight of headlights. She waved her arms in an “over here” motion. The car approached Yelena, stopping hard in front of the curb you were sitting on. The tires splashed you in rainwater and mud. Yelena winched, walking back towards you to usher you into the car.
She led you to the passenger door, popping it open and peeking her head in. “This is your girl,” she said, pointing back towards your soaked, mud covered figure. She motioned for you to sit.
You hesitated. The car looked nicer than any you’d ever been in before. The idea of ruining the nice leather seats made you want to shrink further into your ball of shame.
The woman in the driver's seat noticed your hesitation, but didn’t seem the slightest bit concerned with her seat. “Come on in,” she ushered. “Get out of that rain.”
You handed the umbrella back to Yelena, reluctantly taking a seat in the car. Yelena peaked her head back in to say “take care of her,” before closing the door and scurrying back into the dorms.
The woman looked at you, reaching up to pop on the overhead light. The sight of her in the light nearly took your breath away. She looked oddly familiar. Maybe you’d seen her around town. You sharply inhaled as the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen leaned over the console towards you. She frowned. “Oh you poor thing!” She reached out to wipe off your face. You cringed when you saw the mud smear across the sleeve of her jacket. “Let’s go home and get you cleaned up.”
You nodded and she turned the light off before pulling out of the parking lot. You fought the urge to curl up in her passenger seat, fearing further ruining her seats with the dirty bottoms of your shoes. When you didn’t speak, she offered up an introduction of her own. “My name is Natasha. I don’t know what Yelena’s told you, but I’m her sister. My wife and I have a place not so far from here.”
“I’m Y/N” you managed.
“A friend of Yelena’s?” She asked.
You chuckled a little. “I suppose you could say that. We met about 20 minutes ago.”
Natasha chuckled. “Of course. Leave it to Yelena to seek you out after such an injustice.”
You bit the inside of your lip. You wished you had heard the phone conversation so you could gauge just how much she knew.
It was as if Natasha could read your mind when she started next with the details of the phone call. “Yelena told me you got kicked out of the dorm by the other girls. They were uncomfortable because you were gay? I never expected to hear anything like that happening in 2024, but I guess I stand corrected.”
Well, that was one way of telling the story. At least Yelena had left out the peeping Tom allegations that got you chased off the floor by everyone who had to share a bathroom with you. They weren’t true, of course, but the fact that you’d made people so uncomfortable they were willing to name you a pervert without second thought made your skin crawl.
After a short, largely silent car ride, Natasha pulled the car into a garage. You hadn’t gotten a good look at the house, both because of the dark and getting lost in your own thoughts, but even by the state of the garage you could tell it was nice.
Natasha got out of the car, unlocking the door and leading you into the kitchen. You took your shoes off by the door, then decided to take your socks off too to avoid tracking muddy water through the house. The woman took your hand and guided you to the stairwell, then to a bathroom. She turned on the lights and opened up a cabinet, pulling out fresh towels and washcloths.
“I’ll get you some fresh clothes and sheets. The bedroom is through here.” She opened a door that revealed a sizable bedroom connected to the bathroom. You could hardly believe this wasn’t the master suite she’d led you too.
She turned to face you, exhaling as she once again took in your disheveled state. She picked some errant pebbles from your tangled hair and wiped it out of your face. “Now,” she started, “do you need anything else before I let you get cleaned up and off to bed?”
You shook your head. “No. You’ve done enough already. Thank you, Miss Natasha, for letting me stay here. It means a lot. Truly.”
“Of course.” She smiled. You didn’t notice the blush that crept onto her face at the formality. She swiped away the hair that had fallen in front of your eyes again. “We wouldn’t want a sweet girl like you sleeping out in the rain.” She booped the tip of your nose. “Now promise you’ll wake me or Wanda up if you need anything at all. We’re just in the room across the hall. Can’t miss it, it’s the only door on that side.”
You nodded slowly. There was no way in hell you were going to wake her or Wanda, who you assumed was her wife, for any reason. But you nodded anyway.
She smiled and rubbed your chin. “Good girl. Now go get cleaned up and try to get some rest.”
As she set off to her room, you hoped the mud had covered how pink your cheeks had gotten. You headed to the shower, sliding open the glass door and turning on the water. You decided to hop in with your clothes at first, hoping to get enough of the mud off that you could wear them again tomorrow. Then you wrang the clothes out and threw them over the door to dry. You took your time in the shower, letting the hot water warm you up from the cold rain. By the time you were finally clean, you grabbed the fresh towel Natasha had left for you.
Your clothes were, obviously, still soaked save for your underwear. You were thankful for the little time it had taken the thin silky material to dry. You put them back on and wrapped yourself in a towel before entering into the bedroom.
There was a maroon hoodie at the end of the bed. It had been there since Natasha first showed you the room, so it clearly wasn’t laid out for you. However, in lieu of other clothes, you decided the owner probably wouldn’t mind if you borrowed it for the night. You slipped the soft fabric over your head. It was much too big for you, going down to almost your mid thighs while the sleeves dangled over your hands. But it was, quite possibly, the softest material that you’d ever felt. It felt simultaneously brand new and freshly washed.
You crawled up into the queen sized bed, slipping under the covers. You held the fabric of the hoodie close to your face. It smelled nothing like the musky bergamot of Natasha, which had been equally as entrancing in its own way. This was distinctly different. It smelled soft and comforting like lying in a meadow on a spring day. The comforting smell and warmth, along with your own exhaustion, quickly had you asleep.
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