#this is what happens when I listen to nothing but will wood for a week straight

[gay-little-axolotl]

new art style jumpscare

bonus infected emma under the cut

[rumisgf]

PASSENGER PRINCESS - connie springer x black!reader

summary: your... best friend takes you on your weekly late nights drives. but, this night is different: both of you are aware of the tension between y'all even though neither of you address it- until tonight. warnings: marijuana usage, best friends to lovers, eventual smut, yk car sex, french kissing

you just had got off work, and today really wore you out. it was the usual: your manager was getting on your nerves, there was this lady who tried to argue with you over the counter, and you had to train probably the most incompetent teen who had just got hired. all you knew is you need a blunt and a nap.

as you're laying on your bed ready to kick your clothes off, your phone buzzes. a text from connie, probably the only person you have patience for right now. it reads 'you home?' to which he knows you are, he found out when you get off work (because he listens, of course. totally didn't do his own research before you even told him directly). the minute you text back he's calling your phone, and you roll your eyes a bit 'cause you already know he wants to bother you now.

"hello, sir?" you can hear him smack his lips.

"man, you not even tired! i'm 'bout to head out anyway, just wanted to see what you was doin' right now."

"what, you trynna pick me up?"

"don't ask dumbass questions, you want me to pull up or not?"

you smile to yourself, and get up to change out your work clothes. "mmm... yea. c'mon."

"bet." *click*

soon enough, you see his car pull up from your apartment window and make your way out the door. as you walk down the stairs, you can't help but grin to yourself. no matter how bad of a mood you're in you would never miss an opportunity to chill with his fine as- you mean, the only tolerable dude you know.

you open the car door, the smell of weed hitting your nose. "yooo!" connie greets you with a smile, and a wood in hand. he already had started to roll up before you even made it to the car.

"nigga, what did i tell you 'bout smoking outside here?! if i get in trouble, it is not gonna be my fault!"

"you'on wanna hotbox?" he asks obviously, making you roll your eyes as you buckle in your seatbelt.

he starts the car up and places one hand on the wheel, ready to find an empty parking lot. he notices how you stare outside the window, hand resting on your cheek. "work piss you off?" you simply reply with, "why?" and he says "you not talkin' like usual and actin' all bothered."

he was right, work did piss you off. but for some reason, he was making you especially nervous today. "ion know, just my manager was on dick today. and i had to train this lil' boy he was pissing me off too. i know he a kid but damn, this why i ain't wanna be a trainer in the first place. i already work overtime most of the week i don't be having the energy for that shit, y'know? he keep giving me all these things to do like my schedule not already tight and i'm busting my ass just to still not get promoted yet." it was nice to get stuff of your chest like this because it really calmed you down. better yet, he knew how to calm you down. he knows how to listen while making sure you're still having a good time.

he eventually pulls up to a gas station. "well, don't let that shit bother you. you probably gon get promoted anyway cause you actually do your job. besides, if that don't happen, i been telling you to quit anyway." getting out the car, he pulls his hoodie over his head and comes to open your car door. "now c'mon." "i don't want noth-"

"i said c'mon, mama, i'm getting you snacks! and i want some too i'm not leavin' you in here."

having no argument, you get out and walk with him inside. since it is late, you're the only ones in there and there's only one cashier in sight. the mid aged lady smiles at the two of you as she notices the door bell ring. you both grab a drink of choice from the freezer and make your way to the counter. he sees your eyes dart to a bag of chips, and he picks it up to place it down before you grab his hand. "you don't have to, con." he ignores you, sliding it to the cashier to scan. "oh, stop it, you act like i haven't payed for your hair before."

"your total is $12.59"

he pulls a 20 out his pocket, handing it to her a taking his change. as you both leave, she says "by the way, you two are such an adorable couple!" but, before you can correct her, connie replies

"thank you, ma'am!"

now, you're both sat in the car laughing at the interaction that just happened. "thank you? for real?" you say through giggling. connie simply shrugs, "i ain't wanna make her feel bad!" in your mind, you began to question his response still. why didn't he say no? "i mean shit, you don't look bad so." he stops, furrowing his eyebrows and side eyeing you. "oh, if i was ugly you woulda had a issue?" you look to the side as he pretends to start to be offended. "well, yeah duh." he laughs in response, you following after. "alright, dude."

eventually, he pulls into a random parking lot. you see a bench and a sign, so you assume this is just some park in the area. luckily, no one's here anyway. connie's hand finds the back of your headboard as backs up into a spot. "found this spot like yesterday, nobody really around at night. plus it's chill, i wanna talk to you and ion wanna be bothered seeing other people around."

you can't help but focus on his jawline as he looks back, barely paying attention to the words coming out his mouth. "you even listenin' to me?" he snaps you back into reality. you turn back in your seat as you smack your lips and he chuckles, settling back into his seat. he picks up from where he started, rolling a blunt for the both of you. once he finishes he pulls out a lighter from his glove department, bringing it to his mouth. your eyes pay good attention to his eyes glancing down at the wood, his fingers, his mouth as he inhales, and the way he looks at you after he puffs out smoke.. god he looked fine.

"damn, you gon' take it?" he asks before you even get the chance to zone out completely. you mutter "my fault" before taking it and bringing it to your own mouth. now, its his turn to examine your movements. you don't even notice him eyeing you: the way your acrylics look as you hold it, your makeup still looking nice after a full day of work, your closed lids, the way you're slightly titling your head back... fine as fuck he thinks to himself. he takes off his hoodie as his body warms up. when you look back at him, you see his toned arms in the moonlight and your face begins to heat up. "you feel better, ma?" you nod in response, attempting to contain yourself. however, he can't help but examine you and you begin to notice. "so, what you wanna talk abt?"

he uncharacteristically fiddles with his thumb and looks down. "well shit..." you take another hit, still making eye contact with him. "after that thing just happened it kind of reminded me even more," he takes a pause. he puts his hand out, and you pass the blunt to him before he continues. he brings it to his lips, slowly inhaling. then as he exhales,

"what if we was a couple?"

you take a second, nearly being took out your high that barely started coming over you. "oh.. uhm-"

"not like that, just what if, y'know?" he quickly interjects to save himself from possible rejection. "yeah of course....well, ion know like i said you not ugly." you end up shrugging. sure, you guys are friends, but it would be a complete lie to say you haven't thought about it yourself. you had just never planned on voicing it. "well, what do that mean?"

"i don't know, you not ugly. if we talking hypothetically you my type i guess." you explain, avoiding saying how you actually feel. "i guess is crazyyy." he leans back in his seat, throwing one of arms behind his head as he takes another hit. "so, i'm yo type?"

you feel yourself start to smile. "now what do you mean, sir?" he simply laughs. "i think you pretty too, y/n." his statement catches you offguard, and you find yourself speechless. he only laughs more and looks straight at you, now half-lidded with red hued eyes. "you ain't notice me starin' at you for how many times you been in my car? and you the only girl i really be having in my car, you basically my passenger princess."

the name passenger princess makes you feel warm in a place that you are not willing to acknowledge. "...well, i been starin' at you too. surprised you ain't notice" he's quiet for a second, then looks down at his lap with a smirk. "i did." you smack his arm and he's now in a fit of laughter as he relishes in your embarrassment. after a minute, he smiles at his eyes cant help but focus on your lips. "what?"

he takes a minute to think over the choices he's about to make. and after some thinking, he comes to a conclusion. "...c'mere, mama."

you stare at him for a second, questioning if this is a good idea. but, the way his arms look after removing his hoodie and the way he's manspreading is definitely blinding your judgement. so, you find yourself climbing in his lap just slightly raised up enough so you're not actually sitting on him. but, his hand wraps around your waist and makes you sit down. "aw c'mon, why you bein so shy? it's just me." and he's right. this isn't even the first time you've been this close to him or sat on his lap. your friendship has very little... boundaries. or better yet, you two have a closer platonic relationship than others.

he stares back at you as he raises the blunt in his hand to your lips. you take a hit, blowing smoke directly in his face. you both smile and laugh softly, connie biting his bottom lip. "you so goddamn fine, i swear."

all you respond with a soft giggle as you lean closer into his chest. he wraps an arm around your shoulders and holds eye contact. finally, you both slowly lean in, closing the distance between your faces. his lips instantly catch yours and set a steady pace. he tastes like soda and indica, but right now that is so delicious to you. subconsciously, you slowly move your hips on his laps in rhythm with the movement of your lips on his. he lowly grunts and pulls away. "woah, what you trynna do?" he mumbles, eyeing your body on top of his. "shit, i been holding in a lot, con... i'm on what you on."

his eyes find your thighs, then comes back up to your red, lazy eyes. "you sure, ma?" you bite your lip, "yeah... you want to?" a soft chuckle leaves his lips and he leans back in, centimeters away from your lips. "i been wantin' to do so much to you, y/n, i wanna make you mine.."

his lips crash onto yours and his hands immediately find your ass, massaging the plush skin hidden by your leggings. your tongue finds it way into his mouth and he matches you, tongues dancing with each other. you can feel his boner from under you, and you hope he can't feel you throbbing on top of him. he pulls away again, and tugs at the hem of your leggings.

"can i move these, baby?" he asks. you nod, and he pulls them down to your knees. you shimmy them off knowing you're better off without them restricting your ankles. in return, he scoots you back and he unzips his pants, pulling them down to reveal his stiff hard dick under his boxers. nearly drooling, you eagerly move back up and kiss him again. you grind your hips on his lap once more, moaning into his lips at the feeling. his hand go to guide you and kneed on your ass. he groans into the kiss, you making him harder than he already was.

then, you pull away. he takes a second to look down and notices the wet spot forming on his boxers. he smirks to himself, "damn, baby you that wet?" you look away, still grinding on him. he laughs to himself at your reaction then slides his hand down, pulling your underwear to the side. this thumb finds your clit and you gasp at the sudden contact. he rubs slowly, eyes glued down. he pays attentions to the way your hips begin to buck upward at his touch. then, he slowly slides two fingers into your entrance. "o-oh fuck-!" you moan out. looking back up to you, he licks his lips and focuses on you. "like that, mama?"

you hum in response, eyes closing with pleasure. grinning, he curls his fingers and earns a louder moan sliding out your lips like butter. the sound of you and your wetness as he plays with you is music to his ears. "c-connie..." as you moan out for him, he perks up teasingly. "hm, baby?" you open your mouth to speak, and cut yourself off with another moan. "i- fuck.. i need you"

"need what, babygirl?"

you whine, knowing he's making you say it. "..need you t' fuck me, bae.."

with that, he slips his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth and keeping eye contact as he licks them clean. while he does this he lets you pull him out his boxers, dick springing out. you already had a feeling, but he's big. you stroke him slowly, taking notice of how he squirmed in your touch. "fuck, y/n.." his hips buck upward and his lids close for a second, slightly throwing his head back. you end up throwing off your underwear, leaving you in only your hoodie you left the house in.

"take yo time, okay?" he says softly as you lift up. you nod, and finally begin to sink down onto him. he bites his lips as he feels your slick coating him as you slide his dick into you. your hands grip his shoulders as you sit all the way down, feeling every inch of him. you both moan at the feeling. after a few seconds, you start moving up and down on him. your head falls into the crook of his neck, moaning onto his skin and sending chills down his spine. "f-fuck...baby.."

his hands find your hips, following your movements. "damn baby, just like that.. ride that shit.." you pick up the pace and your grip on him tightens. he now goes to grips your ass, helping move you up and down on all his length. "fuck-! 's so big.." you're whining and moaning into his shoulder, working yourself on him.

connie starts to move his hips in unison with you. "yeah, you like that shit? he starts grinning, looking at your face buried into him. "mhm.. love this dick.." your slick is staining his boxers even more as it drips down while you coat his dick in arousal. "i know, mama, this pussy takin' me so well... you wet f' me." he smacks your ass, earning a small gasp out of you. "look at me, ma."

you lift your head and he smiles at you, admiring your current state. "sexy as fuck.." he moves to massage your hips before pecking your lips. "love you, princess." your heart flutters, as well as your pussy, and your lips form a small smile. "love you, pa" you circle your hips on him and he hums with satisfaction, curses falling out his mouth. "yeah, just like that.. so fuckin' good.."

you ride him with intent, doing it like you had always did in your fantasies. "you feel so good.." you moan, your hole gripping him tighter. "fuck.. i know, ma, i know. takin' this dick so well."

a knot begins to form in your stomach and your eyes squint again as you look back at him. "baby, 'm gonna cum.." you moan, now moving up and down faster. in response, he begins fucking up into you at the same pace.

"mhm c'mon, nut all on this dick." your moans grow in volume and you become putty in his hands. "fuckfuckfuck!" you cry out as your eyes close shut, and you're slamming your ass down on him as you chase your high. he moans as he watches you, holding you tighter. "yeah, there you go mama..." soon, you begin writhing on him as you cream on top of him, painting his dick white. you can feel the strings of your own cum as he continues to thrust into you, reaching his own orgasm. "c-connie! fuck!"

"'m close baby, 'm close, i know." his breathes are frantic and his head is thrown back. "holy fuck, baby.. shit-!" he pulls out as he jerks himself, releasing himself on your ass. you both lay on each other, out of breath as you come down. he looks at you, a smile growing on his face. "don't you go fuckin' somebody else like that, you mine now."

you smile back tiredly, leaning in to kiss him. this kiss is slow, and loving. you pull away, "and you mine."

© rumisgf

[punkshort]

Hi again !! I wanted to know if one day you could write a one-shot based off of this prompt:

“But I wanted to do that with you! You could have asked me!"

I tried to do something with this myself but failed miserably 😭

This is my current oldest request, apologies for taking so long to get through these. Okay here goes nothing:

Five Senses

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You catch Joel sneaking off to do something in the middle of the night and curiosity gets the best of you.

Warnings: language, m!masturbation, smut (18+ MDNI), some descriptions of violence and gore, angst, yearning

WC: idk I wrote it on my phone - maybe 2K?

The fire was out by the time you woke. Was it time for your turn on watch? It had to have been. So why didn't Joel wake you?

Slowly, you rolled onto your back and looked around, your eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness surrounding you. The woods were quiet. Not a single twig snapped, no leaves rustled nor bird sang. Even the wind was still. The loudest thing was your heavy breathing and your heart beating in your ears.

Where was he?

Panic gripped you then. Did something happen? He never strayed too far out, especially when the weather was fair. It brought out infected, easily the biggest downfall of living in the wilderness during summer.

"Joel?" you whispered into the dark abyss, sitting up in your sleeping bag in the process. You strained your ears, flared your nostrils, using all your available senses when sight was questionable, just like he taught you that first week after you ran into each other. It was years ago, now, but you remembered it like it was yesterday.

He saved you. He didn't know who you were, he didn't have to answer your screams of terror, but he did. Just when your arms were growing weak from holding the infected above you, it's snapping jaw so close you had to push back into the dirt to keep it from grazing you, there was a loud explosion. Then you were covered in wet, dead brains and pieces of bone, but you were alive.

He hauled the carcass off you and you furiously began to wipe the carnage from your face, worried it would still somehow get into your bloodstream.

"Here," he had said, handing you a used blue washcloth. You snatched it and whispered your gratitude, wiping off your face more throughly so you could stand and get a good look at your savior.

At the time, you chalked it up to adrenaline, but you felt like you fell in love the moment you first locked eyes. Those deep, beautiful brown eyes that could look right through you, that gazed at you with so much concern when he patched you up after scuffles with raiders, that glared at you when you fucked up and almost gave away your position, that squinted when he laughed at something you said over the fire.

It took a few weeks, maybe a month, but you eventually determined adrenaline wasn't to blame. You were hopelessly in love with Joel Miller, and you never once had the courage to tell him. Never once tried to kiss him, tried to do anything except stare at him when his back was turned, allowing your eyes to greedily take in his broad shoulders and thick, curly, tuggable hair.

He never looked at you like that. God, you wished he would, but he was far too focused. His only concern was survival. Sometimes you wondered how he was able to function properly on so little sleep. Sleep was his only luxury, and he rarely allowed himself to relish in it. It didn't matter how many times you told him you could keep watch the whole night, or on the rare occasions he found you a cabin or shed, he refused to let his guard down.

So where was he now?

Slowly, you stood, your right hand brushing against your handgun which was tucked into your leg holster. You took a steadying breath, trying to quiet yourself so you could listen to your surroundings. Pay attention, stay alert, step lightly.

That was when you first heard it. Panting, or gasping, somewhere to your right. Oh, god, what if he was hurt? What if something happened and you were sleeping, leaving him to bleed out, or worse?

You pulled out your gun and gripped it with both hands, aiming it at the ground as you quickly made your way towards the noise, your heart slamming against your ribs, fear squeezing your throat, but you stayed focused. You had to. For him.

But as you got closer, when it sounded like he was just on the other side of a thick tree trunk, you realized you were very wrong. Your feet became rooted to the ground as you listened to the unmistakable sound of skin against skin, of fabric rustling rhythmically together, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You felt your cunt throb when you heard his soft groans and you knew you should have left, you should have given him privacy, but you didn't. You couldn't. You ached for him for so long and not one time had you ever seen this side to him. He never so much as flirted with you, even just innocently, so you weren't willing to let this moment pass you by.

The clouds finally parted and the moon shined down, trickling through the thick forest. Opening your eyes, you could now see his shadow reflecting on the forest floor. You could see how fast his fist worked himself over, you could hear how eager he was for release, you could practically smell his sweat from where you were standing.

But then something happened.

He groaned again, but that time he groaned your name.

You were certain of it, unless you were in a dream and your mind was playing tricks on you.

He groaned your name.

Before common decency had a chance to catch up, you spoke, interrupting him.

"Joel?"

The sounds ceased. It was deathly quiet, and you feared you made a huge mistake. What were you thinking?

He said your name again, but it was a question. No breathy moans slipped from his mouth this time.

"What's wrong?"

He came around the tree appearing put together, and if it weren't for the flush in his cheeks and the tightness of his jeans, you might have convinced yourself it was all a mirage.

"Nothing. W-what are you doing?"

His eyes flickered around in shame, looking everywhere but at you.

"What did you hear?" he finally asked softly.

"I heard enough."

He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

"Listen-" he began, but you cut him off.

"I wanted to do that with you. You could have asked me."

His eyes popped back open in shock and it felt like time stood still. Oh, fucking hell, what were you doing?!

"What?"

Well, there was no going back now. You reholstered your gun and took a tentative step forward.

"You said my name," you told him, voice barely above a whisper. You could see him swallow as you inched closer.

"I did."

"Were you thinking... of me?" you squeaked. Slowly, he nodded, and that time if he felt any shame, he didn't show it. "I think about you, too," you confessed, taking another step closer.

"You do?"

You nodded, biting your lower lip nervously as you continued to advance. "All the time."

"Fuck," he groaned, then quickly closed the remaining distance between you. He grabbed your face with both hands, cupping your jaw, and smashed his mouth hungrily against yours.

When he swiped his tongue across your lower lip, you could have melted into the ground right then and there. Was this really happening?

His tongue slid past your lips, exploring your mouth with his jaw pried open as if he were trying to swallow you whole. And you would let him, if that's what he wanted. You trusted him with your life, you craved his touch, dreamt about the taste of his lips, and fantasized about what he would do to quell the constant ache between your legs.

Joel walked you backwards, back towards camp. Your eyes were closed and you refused to remove yourself from his mouth, so you relied on your ears and feet to guide you through sound and touch, but you knew it didn't matter. Joel had you, and he never let anything bad happen. He wouldn't allow it.

He eased you down onto his sleeping bag before he finally broke the kiss, both your chests heaving from the effort to drag in much needed air as you each worked on removing your clothes as quickly as possible. You knew Joel so well by now that he wouldn't want you to be too exposed, just in case, so you only focused on your lower half, and he did the same.

"Are you sure?" he asked when he was kneeling between your legs, poised to enter you. You spread your legs wider and nodded. You wanted to tell him you'd been waiting for so long, that you couldn't stand another second without him, but when you felt that delicious sting between your legs when he first pressed forward, your mind went blank.

"So tight," he gritted out, fingers digging mercilessly into your hips, no doubt leaving circular bruises you would cherish for days.

You cried out his name when he finally fully sheathed himself inside you, only to have him clamp his palm over your mouth.

"Gotta be quiet," he reminded you, but his voice was tender and his breath was ragged and you had a feeling his warning was for you both.

When you nodded, he slid his hand away and groaned quietly as he shifted his weight slightly on top of you before slowly pulling almost all the way out. His eyes flicked up to meet yours so he could watch your face contort when he slammed back in, something animalistic coming alive inside him at the way your back arched and your jaw hung open, a silent scream on your lips every time he rolled his hips and stretched you open, molding you to him.

Your senses came alive as he fucked steadily into you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge with every forceful thrust. Every grunt sounded like a melody, every greedy stroke of his fingers left a firey trail. When he could tell you were both getting close, his mouth crashed over yours again and you tasted the metallic flavor of his blood from where he had bit down too hard on his lip.

"I'm gonna find someplace for us," he whispered, voice trembling from the way your walls squeezed around him. "Someplace we can live. Someplace safe."

You nodded your head deliriously, too focused on the steady rise of your orgasm, your stomach tensing each time his cock brushed up against one particular spot that made it difficult to breathe.

"Then you can be as loud as you want," he continued, mouth dipping to bite and suck on your neck. Your fingers twisted in the fabric of his flannel, the worn material begging to be torn under your grip. "Just me and you. I'll take care of you. Won't let anythin' bad happen."

You nodded again, tears pricking your eyes.

"Would you like that?" he asked, his words muffled by your skin as he continued to lick and kiss and suck on the column of your throat, leaving more marks to serve as a reminder that night happened, that what you had was real.

"Yes," you moaned, "oh, god, yes, Joel, it's all I've ever wanted."

You thought you heard him whimper but then his hips began to snap roughly against you, sending shockwaves through your body with each devastating stroke.

"Joel, I think I'm gonna-" you gasped and cut yourself off, your vision blurring for a moment before his hand pressed firmly over your mouth once again, capturing your cries while your body tensed and slowly began to relax underneath him. Not until your eyes reopened did he remove his hand to be replaced with his mouth. You bent your legs so your knees were pressed against the sides of his ribs, holding him close, your tongue licking feverishly behind his teeth.

At the last moment, he yanked his hips back and spilled his seed all over the inside of your thighs, keeping his mouth pressed firmly against yours until he was done painting your skin milky white.

"All this time?" he panted, gazing down at you while you both took a few moments to recover. "All these years?"

You nodded and brushed some of his hair away from his sweaty forehead. "From the first day."

His eyes slid closed in disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me? We wasted so much time."

You smiled and sighed, breathing in the cool night air. It was going to rain soon, you could smell it.

"All we have is time."

[buckymorelikefuckme]

what a wicked thing to do

vampire wanda maximoff x fem reader

words: 4.2k

warnings & tags: **18+ ONLY** lesbian vampires yes GAWD, fantasy au, inaccurate historical au, smut, fingering, implied soulmates (?? kinda i guess), biting 👀, mention of blood, does this count as hurt/comfort? we shall see!! and uhhh it's kinda spooky ooky vibes but it's not really dark? i think. pls let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: listen..... i've already got spooky season in the brain and i really wanted to reshare this fic. i've edited it a little but i've also left the link to where i orphaned it on ao3 in the title if you prefer reading there~ any and all mistakes are my own! feedback is greatly appreciated and heavily encouraged pls and thank ♡ xoxo

wanda maximoff masterlist || main masterlist

It’s that time of year in between autumn and winter where it’s only getting colder and colder, no reprieve even during the sun’s highest point of the day. Part of you worries it’s a mistake to wander through the woods like this, especially so close to sunset.

But then you remember the briefest moment when you saw her, when your eyes met hers; it happened so quickly, but also felt as if time stopped. Something flashed in her gaze before she looked away and disappeared in the busy crowds of the village.

That moment, as brief as it was, leads you here. You hug your arms tighter to your torso, cursing the bitter wind whipping around you. Your dress had been a bright idea when you’d first thought of it. Now, you’re wondering why you thought such a plunging neckline would be smart, considering the seasonable chill in the air.

Although, you think with a flutter in your stomach, that’s not exactly true. You know exactly why you chose this dress.

There’s hardly any light left in the sky by now. You’re kicking yourself for getting lost in the woods, wondering if anyone would notice, or care, whether or not you return to the village. You have no family, no money, nothing tying you to anyone or anything. You work odd jobs to be able to make ends meet. The people knew of you, but you are sure they hardly concerned themselves with your well-being.

But then, when your gaze had met her own, you’d felt seen for the first time in ages. It was like she could see everything inside your mind, every ounce of longing and every bit of loneliness, even in the split second she held your stare. You haven’t been able to stop thinking about her since then. Nearly two weeks have passed, and you’d finally decided to find out if the stories that follow her hold any truth. They are quite colorful, full of fantasy and myth, surely decorated to sound more elaborate as the years go on. Fantasy and myth, perhaps, but one particular piece of information continues to remain the same.

She hasn’t seemed to age in the fifteen years she’s spent living near your village. Not one line or wrinkle to be seen on her pale skin. Not one gray hair on her head. Some of the elders even swear they'd seen her when they were children.

Her home is a mystery, one that stays that way out of fear. There is something about her eyes, some say, something off, not quite right. Because of this, no one has felt compelled enough to try finding her home.

At least, not until you.

You’re beginning to think you are truly lost, feeling hopeless, when you finally spot something in the distance. But just as relief washes through you, the rain starts. Each drop feels like sharp, stabbing pieces of ice landing on your exposed flesh, soaking into the thin fabric of your dress. It takes mere minutes for you to become drenched. Your dress is now clinging to your body uncomfortably, the cold even more biting than it already had been.

It comes into view, what you’d spotted several meters back, easier to make out. A looming castle breaks through the trees, windows lit with candles.

Your arms and feet are going numb, but you push through, stumbling your way to a cobblestone path that leads to tall, wooden doors. With a trembling hand, you raise the door knocker and bang it against the door as loud as you can manage, praying whoever is inside will hear.

Your wait is short lived, thankfully. The door creaks open loudly to reveal the very woman you’d been searching for. If she’s shocked to see you, she hides it well. She looks as regal as ever. A black dress hugs her lithe body, her hair perfectly brushed and styled. This close to her, you can see what the people mean. She looks ageless.

“E-excuse me, madam,” you begin, trying your best to keep your teeth from chattering. “I-I’m terribly lost and I d-don’t think I can find my w-way back to the village.”

The woman lets her eyes roam your shivering frame, lingering on your glistening chest for a second, then meets your pleading gaze.

“Of course. Please, do come in. I’m sure you’re cold.”

“Th-thank you,” you reply earnestly.

She steps aside, leaving just enough space for you to squeeze by.

“Think nothing of it,” she assures you. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need, at least until the storm passes.”

As the door closes behind her, you take in as much of the space as possible. With it being nighttime, the candles can only do so much. For a castle, it is rather large, but it’s not quite as foreboding as you would have imagined. Though, you surmise, you hadn’t really known what to expect at all.

“Would you like something dry to change into?”

You whirl around, almost tripping over your feet as her voice registers, so close to your ear.

She smiles, amusement tickling the corners of her mouth. “Perhaps a cup of tea?”

Swallowing roughly, you nod, offering a smile of thanks in return.

“Very good. You should go sit by the fire to warm up while I get everything sorted.”

She points toward a room where you can see flickering light dancing off the walls. You nod again, letting your tired feet follow the promise of warmth. The closer you get to the large fireplace, the harder you shiver, goosebumps rising along your skin. You stand as close as you deem safe, hands held out to thaw them. For the second time, she sneaks up behind you.

“This is all I could manage to find.”

You gasp as you turn to face her. She’s still smiling as she holds up the proffered item of dry clothing.

“You frightened me,” you state dumbly, huffing a quiet laugh.

“I did not mean to,” she replies.

“It’s okay.” You glance at the clothes in her hand, a frown forming on your face. “A… dressing gown?”

She makes a sympathetic face. “It was all I could find,” she repeats.

Her eyes dip down to your chest again. They flash, just like in the village, but you’re sure it could have just been the fire reflecting in them. You look down to see what she’s staring at and heat rushes up your neck. Your nipples are clearly outlined against the wet fabric of your dress.

“Oh,” you murmur as you lift your arms to cover yourself.

She clears her throat delicately. “Take this. You’ll get sick if you keep your wet clothes on.” She pointedly holds the dressing gown out to you again until you gingerly take it. “I’ll go get the kettle started while you change.”

“Thank you,” you return quietly.

When you’re sure she’s gone, you undress as quickly as you can, more shivers wracking your frame as you stand naked in her drawing room for a few seconds before pulling on the silk dressing gown, tying it securely around your waist.

While you wait you decide to get a better look of the room. A few paintings hang on the dark walls, but mostly they’re covered with floor to ceiling shelves and stuffed to the brim with books. You take notice of a few spots where the dust hasn’t seemed to settle in front of them, figuring those must be her favorites. A plush chaise sits in the center of the room with two chairs on either side, atop an ornate rug that rests on most of the floor. There are a couple small tables between the chaise and chairs with candelabras on them, and a wide, lower table in front of them. You spot a desk by the only window in the room.

There’s nothing particularly personal about the space. It almost feels as if she’s newly moved in. But you know that can’t be true, especially since so many people in the village have seen her visit town for years now.

A piece of parchment on the desk catches your eye. You debate over whether or not you should let your curiosity get the better of you, your feet slowly carrying you over to where the paper lay. There’s writing on the top piece, and you get as far as the addressed “Brother,” but then hear her round the corner and quickly back away.

“I wasn’t sure if you took cream and sugar, so I brought them just in case,” she tells you, setting a silver tray on the low-lying table that held the teapot and teacups.

You walk over as she pours the tea into both cups. You pick one up and carefully drop two lumps of sugar into yours, stirring it with your teaspoon until you’re satisfied it’s melted. A careful sip as you sit down and you hum happily.

“Better?” she asks, smiling and taking a sip of her own tea, sitting beside you.

It occurs to you suddenly that you hadn’t asked for introductions. You scold yourself internally, knowing you had better etiquette than that.

“I must apologize, I seem to have forgotten my manners. I never introduced myself,” you say, then offer your name. “And what is yours, madam?”

“You may call me Wanda,” she replies.

“Well, I owe you a great deal for helping me, Wanda. I cannot thank you enough.”

She waves a dismissive hand. “Please, there is no need. I’m glad I was here and that you aren’t in danger of freezing to death.”

“As am I,” you respond, laughing lightly.

Silence settles between you. Your mind whirls with hundreds of questions, but you don’t know where to begin. Your plan to find her only consisted of just that— finding her. Now that you’re here, you aren’t quite sure what to do. Or say, for that matter.

You can feel her eyes observing you like a caress. You struggle not to squirm or shiver, though you are no longer cold. No, there is no chill clinging to your bones anymore. Her stare alone provides enough heat. You chance a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, but she catches it. She purses her lips to keep from smiling in amusement.

“So,” you blurt, cheeks pinking, “have you lived here long?”

You bite the inside of your cheek as soon as the words leave your mouth. Stupid, stupid girl.

Thankfully, Wanda laughs.

“Quite,” she says teasingly, like she’s letting you in on a joke.

You nod. “I see. Is it a family home?”

She tilts her head consideringly. “Of a sort.”

What is that supposed to mean? Miraculously, you don’t ask that question aloud.

“Do you… Do you live alone?”

You’re not sure why you ask. Perhaps it’s that you haven’t heard any other movement throughout the castle that indicated a waiting staff of some sort. Afterall, she was the one to fetch the tea.

“I do,” she says.

You don’t want to examine it too closely, but you’re positive you note a hint of longing in her tone.

“S’a lot of space for one person,” you muse in acknowledgment.

She nods. “Indeed. However, I’m sure I’ll find the right companion soon.”

You take another sip of your tea to avoid replying, but are not able to avoid meeting her gaze. The look in her eyes is something you’ve never seen directed at you. You’re hesitant to think it could be want, open desire. Not from a woman like her.

—

Wanda still cannot believe that you’d shown up at her door.

She’s spent months watching you from a distance, never allowing herself to be seen by you—not until she felt it was time. From the very first moment she caught sight of you, she knew. You are hers. Her mouth watered when the wind brought your scent to her. There was not a doubt in her mind about whether she would have you; she simply would.

She had waited, ever so patiently, watching you as you roamed the streets of the village. You didn’t seem to have very many acquaintances, if any at all, and you were always alone. Wanda quickly figured out that you were without a family as well.

Selfishly, she’d been happy about these facts.

Finally, Wanda allowed herself to meet your gaze. It was quick, but she knew her eyes flashed, knew that she piqued your curiosity. It would only be a matter of time.

After nearly two weeks had gone by, however, she had started to think it hadn’t worked. She’d planned on returning to town to purposefully cross your path again, but as luck would have it, you came to her. As soon as she heard the knock on her door, she smiled.

Now, as she sits next to you on the chaise, your skin glowing in the firelight, she finds it harder to maintain her control. This close, your scent is even more intoxicating. Wanda can tell that you’re curious about her. The questions you want to ask are swirling behind your eyes. And now that you’re here, she decides she’ll answer whatever you ask, give you anything you want.

You’ve gone quiet, though, so she does some prodding of her own.

“What were you doing out in the woods?” Dressed like that, blessedly, goes unsaid.

You shyly glance down at your lap. “I, uh, I like to take walks,” you mutter into your teacup as you go to take another sip.

Wanda hums. A plausible excuse, indeed. You carefully lean forward to set your cup and saucer on the table and when you sit back you move your hair over to one shoulder. Wanda’s eyes zero in on the pulsepoint of your neck. If she focuses hard enough, she can see your heartbeat throbbing beneath your skin. It makes her teeth itch, makes her control waver even more.

When she drags her gaze away from your neck, she finds you already observing her. Her desire is clearly reflected in your eyes and the feeling is heady.

—

“Are you warm now?” she wonders.

“Yes,” you whisper, your breathing picking up, making your breasts heave alluringly.

You’d go as far as saying you are overheating. The dressing gown, where you’d been unsure and embarrassed of being nude underneath it before, is now a blessing. Your body feels alight with an unseen, growing fire. Shifting on the chaise, you don’t notice the sleeve slip down your shoulder, only registering the air skimming across your collarbones. You let out a surprised gasp when you feel something cold on your bare arm.

Peering down reveals it to be Wanda’s hand carefully sliding the sleeve back up into place. Your brows pull together in a frown.

“Your hand…” you mumble, trailing off.

She lets it linger on your shoulder for a moment, then slowly traces down your arm, her thumb grazing the side of your breast. Your nipples tighten, thighs clenching together as you watch her fingers stop at your wrist. Though her touch is cold, it feels like a relief against the searing heat of your flesh. You peek at her through your lashes and find her expression to be one of complete hunger.

Feeling emboldened, you hold her stare as you shift to pull the sleeve down again.

Her lips lift on one side, her teeth glinting dangerously. “Are you sure of what you’re doing?” she asks.

You blink, faux innocence shifting behind your eyes. “I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

Wanda takes a deep, steadying breath, though it only helps in inhaling your scent more. She says your name. “Why do you think you are here?” The question catches you off guard. Wanda shifts even closer to you, watching your throat bob as you swallow. “We both know it isn’t because you accidentally got lost in the woods. You were out there with a purpose. What was it?”

You lick your lips, noticing her gaze immediately drop to them. It makes your heart pound in your chest.

“I don’t know,” you reply, unsure.

She leans in, her nose nearly touching yours. “You do,” she whispers, without doubt. “Why are you here?”

Your eyes flutter closed, head tilting back without you being aware of it, exposing your neck. You feel her presence mere centimeters away from you, her breath puffing out along the column of your throat.

“I… I felt drawn here. It feels like I was meant to be here,” you say, quiet, almost hoping she doesn’t hear you.

It feels ridiculous to say it out loud. It’s one thing to have that thought sit in the back of your mind where you could pretend it didn’t exist, but to admit it aloud is entirely different.

“With me?”

You shiver at her words, her lips having softly dragged across your skin. Helplessly, you nod.

“Are you afraid?”

That makes you frown, but you adamantly reply, “No.”

“Open your eyes,” she pleads.

You follow her instruction, wary, but gasp at what you see. Sharp fangs peek out from Wanda’s lips, her eyes so pale they’re almost white now. Though your heart continues to race, it’s not out of fear. It should scare you, it should send you running, but you find your hand slowly rising to carefully trace a finger down one of her fangs, amazed that she even lets you.

“You’re…” You start, meeting her patient gaze once more. “Beautiful,” you finish in a whisper, because she is. You go to reach for her face to stroke her cheek, but she lurches backward. In a blink, Wanda’s on the other side of the chaise. Disbelief paints her features.

“You think I’m… beautiful?”

“Of course,” you state plainly, brows furrowing. Wanda continues staring at you in wonder. “You said I was here for a reason.” Ironically, she’s now wary of you as you shuffle closer to her. “I know what that reason is now.”

“Which is?” she asks apprehensively.

“You,” you murmur, cupping her cheek. “I’m here for you.”

Wanda looks as if she’s scared to accept this, to hope for it to be real. You steal away those worries by leaning in to place a soft kiss to her lips. She inhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut, her cold hands gripping your wrist almost painfully. You give her a moment, kissing her forehead as she gathers her emotions, keeping her gaze down.

“Are you sure?”

Her voice cracks softly, but her grip on your wrist loosens as you move it. You lift her chin so she’s looking at you.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

She stares at your lips for a few seconds, and then, as your words sink in, they seem to send her into action. She surges forward and captures your lips, more sure, more eager than before. You respond in kind, pulling her as close as possible, sighing into her mouth.

You quickly find yourself on your back on the chaise, Wanda above you, bodies slotting perfectly into each other like lost puzzle pieces. You feel her hand slide down from where it was in your hair to graze along your sternum. Then her hand cups your breast, thumb swiping across your nipple, and you gasp. It’s the perfect opportunity to deepen the kiss and Wanda takes it.

Her tongue slides against yours and you whine, clutching at her like she’s the only thing tethering you to this earth. It becomes so easy to let her settle between your thighs, to arch into her touch and slide your tongue in her mouth, delicately tracing over her fangs. Wanda shudders, grunting inelegantly before wrenching herself away, panting heavily into the space between you. You blindly chase after her, opening your eyes in confusion.

Wanda’s gaze is intent on your neck, full of desire. The weight of the moment hits you, then. What exactly it would mean if you give in to her. So, with full faith in your decision, you tilt your head ever so slightly and she goes perfectly still.

“Go ahead,” you encourage.

She shakes her head. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

You huff. “I do. I want you to do this.” You know she won’t look at you just yet, so you lace both your and her fingers together and squeeze hers as you continue. “I need you to do this.”

“If I do,” she starts, swallowing thickly, “I won’t be able to stop. You’ll end up like me.”

You duck your head to catch her stare. “And what’s wrong with that?”

She closes her eyes and falls silent for a moment. The weight of your words fall over the two of you like a winter blanket.

“I’ve waited so long,” she confesses, voice quiet, shaking and timid.

“For me?” you ask. She nods. “I’ve been looking for something, or someone, to make me feel whole all my life.” You use your free hand to stroke her cheek. Even with her eyes closed, she leans into you. “I’ve waited for you, too.”

When she finally looks at you, you know there’s no going back for either of you.

“It’s going to hurt,” she warns.

“That’s okay. It will only be temporary.”

She smiles then, slow and teasing. “I can ease the pain, you know.”

Her free hand tugs lightly on the ties holding your dressing gown closed, raising her eyebrows in silent question. You bite your lip and nod, shivering in anticipation. She undoes the careful bow you’d tied, easing it open and exposing your body to her hungry gaze.

If you felt heated before, you’re an inferno now. Her hands reverently map out every curve of your body. She leans down and plants a kiss above your belly button. It makes your stomach clench in want, but you make yourself lie there and take whatever she plans on giving you. Her kisses lead up your torso, until she’s eye level with your breasts, and before you can comprehend her movement, she’s taking one of your nipples into her mouth.

“God,” you whimper, head thrown back as you push your chest into her face.

“No,” Wanda giggles, “just me.”

You try to laugh, but it turns into a gasping moan when she pinches your other nipple between cold fingers. Your thighs attempt to close around her, yet it’s futile. Her free hand begins its descent down to the warm heat between your legs. Your hips buck into her touch, crying out when her fingers make contact with your clit.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make this feel good, okay? Let me take care of you.”

You nod quickly, your mouth going dry. When a single finger enters you, you forget how to breathe for a second, but then she’s sliding it out and back in, setting a steady rhythm, and you’re back to panting and whining. Only a few minutes later, though, you’re wriggling around, begging for more. She adds another finger and picks up the pace.

“Oh,” you gasp, your legs falling open wider.

Wanda buries her face in your neck, inhaling loudly, groaning. She licks across the skin there, nipping at you.

“Wanda,” you whimper.

“I know, my love,” she rasps. “You’re so close.”

Your hands have drifted above you, clutching at the pillows on the chaise, your hips moving in tandem with her fingers. Her thumb meets your clit, adding to the building warmth in your belly. It swells and swells, until finally, it has nowhere else to go and explodes within you.

You feel her teeth sink into your neck at the very same moment, and you can only yell brokenly into the air. Pain and pleasure war inside you, both white hot and searing, marrying themselves into a delicious and lethal combination. You can feel blood trickle down your throat, the same way you can still feel her fingers thrusting into you. It seems to never end and you grow limp beneath her, unable to handle the sensations flowing through you.

She finally slows, removing her teeth and licking over the wound. As her fingers slide free, she brushes your sweaty hair off your forehead with her clean hand.

“Sleep now,” she instructs, kissing you softly.

You can’t even attempt to argue, your body listening to her and promptly sending you into a deep slumber.

—

When you wake, before you even open your eyes, you’re aware of a few things.

To start, you’re no longer on the chaise. You’re on a luxurious bed, which is presumably Wanda’s. Your hearing is significantly better, as is your sense of smell. There’s a low thrum of energy coursing through your veins, like you’re on edge but don’t know why. But the more important thing you’re aware of is the feeling of eyes on you.

“I know you’re awake now.”

You crack open one eye and see Wanda smirking at you from the other end of the bed. You smile and sigh happily.

“How do you feel?” she asks.

You carefully sit up and stretch. You notice her ogling your still naked body and give her a smirk of your own. Shifting onto your knees, you crawl over the bed until you reach her and straddle her lap.

“Hungry,” you answer before grasping her face in your hands and attaching your mouth to hers.

With a force she hadn’t used before, she tosses you backward and is on top of you in a flash, a devilish smile on her tragically beautiful face.

“Good.”

[azrielslittleslut]

"The Frenzy"- Epilogue

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, NSFW, fingering, p in v, slight edging, squirting, dirty talk, praise, mention of safe words, pet names

Word Count: 2.5k

series masterlist

a/n: whew! what a ride! this is the end of this series, and i hope you guys enjoyed it! (many many more smutty fics of Azriel coming, though! pun fully intended)

Enjoy!

"Back so soon?" Rhys drawled from where he was sitting at his desk. He had his feet propped on the wood, his black boots gleaming in the faelight. He reclined in his chair, his hands laced behind his head, his face full of male satisfaction. "I thought Az would have kept you in that cabin for at least a week."

From beside you, you heard Azriel let out a low growl of warning as his brother looked at you with amusement in his eyes. "Shut the fuck up, Rhysand," he snarled, his voice low and deadly.

It seemed that the primal needs that came with the mating frenzy triumphed over the presence of Azriel's brother and High Lord.

You placed a soothing hand on his arm as you said, "Oh believe me when I say that we would still be there if some bastard of a High Lord hadn't called my mate here to give him an assignment." You did nothing to hide the pure annoyance that laced your words.

Alright, maybe Azriel wasn't the only one on edge.

But how could you not be upset when your mate had been deep inside of you, fucking you into blissful oblivion when, all of the sudden, Rhys's voice had filled both of your minds.

So sorry to interrupt, he had said. But I need Az to come back immediately. Spymaster business.

Azriel had been so angry, he had been unable to finish. It had made him even angrier when he had been unable to make you reach your own climax, as you had been too distracted by the anxiety that came with the thoughts of your mate leaving so soon after accepting the bond.

Needless to say, you were both pissed... and still horny as fuck.

Rhys moved his feet off the table and leaned forward, bracing his arms on the desk. "I truly am sorry," he sighed. "I know how... difficult this is for you both, but I really need you to do this, Az. You're the only one I trust."

Azriel's wings twitched slightly as his shadows swarmed around his shoulders. "What do you need me to do?"

You didn't listen to what Rhys said, as you were too distracted by the sight of your mate and his shadows. Just this morning, he had wrapped them around your thighs, forcing them open as he fucked you against a wall. You remembered the sound of his moans in your ear, the filthy words of praise that had flowed from his lips...

You felt Azriel freeze as the scent of your arousal started to fill the air. He sent his shadows over to you, wrapping them around you to hide the lovely scent from his brother.

That sweet scent is only for me, love, he said down the bond. The two of you had discovered the mental communication that came with the mating bond last night. Though neither of you had daemati gifts, it seemed that your connection and love for each other were strong enough to prevail through it.

You shivered as his mental voice filled your mind; it was dark and full of shadows, and it made your pussy clench around nothing.

It's too bad you were here in this stupid office and not in bed, where your pussy could be clenching around Azriel's cock, making him cum inside of you as you milked him.

"That's all?" Azriel asked, his deep voice bringing you back into the conversation. "That won't be a problem."

Rhys nodded and stood from his desk, tucking his wings in tight. "I didn't think it would be. Get this done, Az, and the two of you can go back to that cabin for as long as you want."

You glared at Rhys as he walked by, heading for the door. He only chuckled and winked at you, his eyes twinkling like stars.

Once the door closed, you threw yourself into Azriel's arms, burying your head in his chest. "Do you have to go?" you asked, your voice breathless and whiny.

What if something happened to him? What if he got hurt? What if he...

No. You would not let your mind wander to thoughts of Azriel leaving and not coming home to you.

Az wrapped his arms tightly around you, holding you close to his body. "I do," he whispered into your hair. "I should be back in the morning. I just need to check in with my spies, and they can handle the rest."

You looked up at him with a smile. "Are you delegating, Azriel?" you asked, laughing softly. "I never thought I would see the day." It was a rare occurrence to see him not taking on the brunt of his missions. He was a little bit of a control freak when it came to his job, but you loved him for it.

"So what if I am?" he responded with a smirk. "Maybe I just want to hurry home to my mate," he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

You pulled him closer, melting into the kiss. It didn't take long for it to turn hungry, full of tongue and teeth. Just like that, that fire within you reignited into a blazing flame. Your senses were filled with him, and you wanted your body to be filled with him as well.

"Az," you murmured against his lips, jumping into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. "I need you. Now."

Azriel moaned against your mouth, the sound deep and full of longing. "We're in Rhys's office," he said breathlessly. Still, you could feel his hands begin your massage your pussy as he held you, a sign that he was just as needy.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. It was wrong, and completely dirty to say the least, but your High Lord needed to learn not to disturb a newly mated couple.

"Fuck me on his desk," you commanded, grinding yourself against Azriel's hard cock, causing him to groan.

Slowly, he started to walk toward the large desk, his wings tucked in tight. "This is a very bad idea," he said with a laugh, plopping you down on the wood. "He is going to kill me."

"You know I'm attracted to bad ideas, love. And besides," you said, moving your fingers down to unlace his trousers, "he will have to get through me first to kill you."

Azriel said nothing in response as you wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping him just the way he liked. His head felt back slightly as he moaned, and the lovely sound went straight to your throbbing core.

Usually, you liked to take the time to pleasure him, whether that be with your tongue or hands. You loved the taste of him in your mouth, bitter and salty and wholly Azriel.

But there was no time for that now, so you laid back on the desk as he pushed the skirt of your dress up, ignoring the papers pressing into your back. You lifted your hips as he pulled your panties down, and you watched in confusion as his shadows took them away.

"What was that for?" you moaned as he plunged two fingers into your core. "I can't walk around without underwear, Az."

He let out a dark chuckle as he leaned down to kiss your neck. "You can if I say you will."

Damn. You really loved this dominant side of him.

He fucked you with his fingers, preparing your body for him. Just as you felt that sweet wave of pleasure begin to wash over you, he pulled away. You almost cried out, but you stopped when you saw him reach down to line his cock up with your entrance.

"I won't be gentle, angel," he murmured as he ran the head of his cock along your folds, covering himself in your wetness. "Remember your safe word?"

You nodded. "Chocolate."

"Good fucking girl," he groaned as he pushed into you with a mighty thrust. He stopped for only a few seconds to let you adjust before setting a punishing pace.

Your back arched off the desk, your legs wrapping around him to pull him closer. You clawed at his back, your fingers digging into his leathers as he moved in you. "Yes, yes, yes," you moaned, unable to keep yourself quiet as he hit that sweet spot deep inside of you repeatedly.

His shadows darkened, and he pulled away for a moment, sticking his hand into the swirling darkness. You gasped as his hand covered your mouth, forcing a strange fabric between your teeth. Your panties, you realized.

"You need to be quiet, love. Tap on my shoulder three times if it's too much," he said with a smirk. He gripped your hips, holding you in place as his hips moved faster. "Can you taste yourself? Can you taste how wet you got for me?"

Your eyes rolled back as you whimpered around the panties. You could taste yourself, and you distantly wondered why males liked this so much. It wasn't a bad taste, but it was different.

But, then again, you didn't mind your mouth being so full of his cum that it dripped down your lips.

He pulled the bodice of your dress down, lowering his head to bite and lick your sensitive nipples. "You always taste so fucking good. Every part of you drives me insane," he whispered against your skin, his voice like the shadows swirling around him. "I will never get tired of you. No matter how long I live, I will get tired of being inside of you."

You moved your hand down to rub your clit, desperate for release. You groaned as your fingers felt how much he stretched you out.

"That's it, baby. Touch yourself for me," he whispered as he pressed down gently on your lower belly.

So, you obliged him, moving your fingers in fast circles over your clit, and you bit down on your panties as you tightened around him. Normally, your orgasms had a slow build up, and you could tell when you were about to come.

But this time, it hit you hard and fast, and your vision went white as you climaxed. You distantly felt embarrassment as you felt wetness, more wetness than usual, spill down your thighs. You tried to squirm away, but Azriel held you down on the desk.

"Let it happen, angel. So fucking good for me," he whispered, his voice breaking as he reached his own climax. You whimpered as you felt hot ropes of cum fill you, painting your walls.

For a few moments, the two of you just stared at each other, coming down from your highs. Eventually, Azriel pulled away, dragging his seed with him. He quickly reached a finger down and pushed it back into your pussy. "It needs to stay where it belongs," he said with a smug smile.

You slowly sat up, looking down at the desk below you. It was covered in your release, and you murmured in embarrassment as you saw that it also covered Azriel's pants. You pulled the panties from your mouth, holding them out to his shadows to take away. "I'm sorry," you whispered, lowering your head.

He clicked his tongue as he placed a finger below your chin, raising your head to meet his gaze. His eyes were filled with pure love, and it eased the tightness in your chest. "Don't you ever apologize for that. That was the sexiest thing I have ever witnessed," he murmured as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Besides, it gives me great pleasure knowing I can satisfy my mate."

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. "You need to change now."

"I didn't want to wear this anyway," he said with a shrug. "These are my least favorite pair of leathers."

You rolled your eyes, knowing that all of his leathers were the same and that he didn't give a shit what he wore. You sighed softly as you said, "We need to clean this up. Rhys is going to lose his mind."

Az gently pulled you off the desk, raising you slightly to keep you from sliding through your release. "Leave it. He needs to learn a lesson, right?" he asked with a wink. "Besides, my shadows have informed me of the deplorable things he and Feyre have done. This is nothing."

You shuddered, not wanting to think of Rhys and Feyre's trysts. You had unintentionally witnessed some of them, especially the ones in the sky above Velaris. You couldn't blame them, though. The mating bond had a way of making such naughty things seem normal. It was as if the bond erased any sense of propriety, leaving only the raw, unfiltered need to be as close to each other as possible, regardless of the setting.

"Do you think we will be worse than them?" you asked as you pulled your dress up. You tried to keep your eyes away from him as he tucked himself in his pants, knowing that would probably make you tackle him to the floor for another round.

He laughed as he took your hand, pulling you toward the door. His eyes glinted with a mix of mischief and unwavering devotion, the bond between you thrumming with palpable intensity.

"You know," he said, his voice low and filled with a promise, "this frenzy... it will never end for me. No matter how many centuries we live, no matter how many lifetimes we share, I will always want you with the same fiery intensity."

Azriel paused, turning to face you fully, his gaze locking onto yours. "You are my everything, and this bond has only made it clearer. I will crave you, need you, every single day. The frenzy might be overwhelming now, but it’s a part of us, a part of what makes our love so extraordinary."

He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "So get used to it, my love. Because this isn't just a phase. It's our forever."

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, the sincerity and intensity in his eyes leaving you breathless. Swallowing hard, you squeezed his hand, drawing strength from the warmth of his touch.

"Az," you began, your voice a soft whisper, "I feel the same way. This bond... it's like nothing I ever imagined. It's wild and overwhelming, but it's also beautiful and perfect. I can't imagine my life without you, without this connection."

You stepped closer, your free hand gently tracing the lines of his jaw, your eyes never leaving his. "I want this frenzy to last forever too. I want to feel your need, your desire, every single day. Because I need you just as much, if not more."

A small smile tugged at your lips as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. "So let's embrace it, all of it. The frenzy, the passion, the love. Because with you, Azriel, forever will never be long enough."

"This," you said, your voice firm and resolute, "this is just the beginning of our forever."

With that, you pulled him into a kiss that was both tender and fierce, a seal on the promise of countless tomorrows. As your lips moved together, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them side by side. Your forever had just begun, and it was going to be nothing short of extraordinary.

tag list: @lilah-asteria @ivy-34 @pruvii

@kdawgiedawg @anarchiii @5onedirection5

@andreperez11 @mahiiis-world @matt332011

@azriel-shadowsingerr @courtofsmutandstarlight

@dorotheaspen @fourthwing4ever @paleidiot

@artof-aristocracy @azrielrot @whyshouldihaveanam3

[lanadelnegan]

Ghost - Part 1

Negan x Glenn’sSister!Reader

Summary: You escaped Alexandria to mourn the death of your twin brother, Glenn, only to have an unforgettable night with the man who killed him.

Warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, heavy making out, mentions of family death

Idea requested by anon. Thank you 🫶 song inspo here

It's been one month since the lineup - the day Negan took my twin brother's life. I left Alexandria the moment Maggie returned and told me what happened to Glenn. I wasn't there there for the line up, and I hate myself for it. I could've convinced Negan to kill me instead. My brother had a family, a wife, a baby on the way. Much more to offer this world than me.

I've never seen Negan or his men. I know nothing about him, except that he's going to regret taking Glenn from me. Because I've made it my life's mission to destroy him. Even if I have to go down with him.

But for now, I needed an escape and time to mourn, so I found an abandoned cabin nearby to stay in for a while. A few things were left there by the previous residents - enough to get me by for at least a couple months. The cabin is hidden in the middle of the woods, which is probably why no one has found me all this time. Until now.

It was just getting dark and starting to storm after I settled on the couch to read a book. I fell asleep moments later, listening to the rain pour when the sound of the front door creaking open startled me. Before I could get up to grab my gun, a tall man in a soaked leather jacket entered and closed the door behind him. I was frozen to the couch when I locked eyes with him.

“You here alone?” He asked.

I nodded before realizing that was a stupid thing to admit to a stranger that could easily kill me on the spot. “Um, for now. My husband should be back soon.” I lied.

He chuckled, nodding his head like he didn’t believe me. “Well darlin, I didn’t mean to scare you. Just need a place to stay for the night before I head home. I promise I’m not a threat.” He flashed his pretty, white teeth at me.

“I’m supposed to believe that? You’re a complete stranger.”

He sighed like I annoyed him before reluctantly taking his gun out of his pants and kicking it towards me on the floor. His hair was black, slicked back and dripping with water. Oh, and he was stupidly handsome.

“Fine. You can take the couch.”

He nodded appreciatively, setting his bag down by the front door. “Got a shower?”

“Bathrooms down the hall to your right.”

He nodded again before making his way to the bathroom and I exhaled a long breath. This was the first human interaction I've had since leaving Alexandria two weeks ago. It felt strange being in the presence of someone alive.

Realizing he would need something to change into after his shower, I gathered some men's clothes out of the dresser from my bedroom and went to lay them on the floor outside of the bathroom. Just as I was placing them down, the bathroom door opened, clouding my vision with steam. He stood before me shirtless with a towel wrapped around his waist.

I blushed. “Oh, my bad. Was just going to drop these here for you.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He took them out of my hand, grinning down at me.

My eyes wandered down his wet torso, following the drops of water that lead from the black pirate tattoo on his pecs to the perfectly carved v in his abdomen. This was going to be a long night.

Two hours and a bottle of wine later:

My feet were propped on his lap as I lied on the couch, laughing at every lame joke he made. This man was patient, considering he’s been listening to me overshare every detail of my life for the past hour. Every detail but Glenn. I'm not ready to talk about what happened out loud and especially not to a stranger.

He was hesitant to talk about his personal life at first, but I quickly broke down his walls and in a short time, I felt like I knew more about him than any other human on the planet. We focused on the past, taking turns telling each other about our lives before the dead started walking.

“Wait, wait. A high school gym coach? I bet all the girls had a crush on you.”

His thumb teased my ankle while his other arm rested lazily on the back of the couch. “Why would you assume that?” He chuckled.

I blushed, realizing just how tipsy I was. “Look at you. You’re like, insanely hot.” The liquid courage had definitely taken over.

He smirked, rubbing the bare skin on my lower leg. “Shouldn’t your husband have been back by now?”

“Oh, yeah.” I sat up, setting my feet on the ground and scooching closer to him as I got comfortable again. “I lied earlier. I just didn’t want you to be some psycho murderer.” I said, rolling my eyes as if the thought were crazy.

“What makes you think I’m not?”

“Are you?” Leaning in closer, I rested my cheek on the the back of the couch and grinned at him.

“These days, aren’t we all?”

I stayed silent for a moment, looking for any sign of seriousness in his eyes. “Even if you are, I trust you.”

His eyebrows raised. “That’s pretty bold of you, doll. You know nothing about me.”

“I know you were a high school gym coach.” I reached for his hand and he gladly accepted, rubbing the back of mine with his thumb. “And that your wife’s name was Lucille. And that this isn’t the first time you’ve been here. This is your hideaway too - when you just need to get away.” I rambled on and he never took his eyes off mine. “Oh and your favorite color? Definitely black.”

“Another assumption?”

“Am I wrong?”

He chuckled. “No.” His eyes darted back and forth between mine. “Why do I feel like we’ve met before?”

“Maybe we were soulmates in another life.” I giggled.

“I’m not doubting it, doll. Feels like I've known you forever.”

My gaze dropped to his lips and he followed, leaning in closer. Closing the gap between us, I pressed my lips to his. They were soft but the stubble around them tickled me and I imagined the same sensation between my legs.

His hand slid through the silky strands of my hair, gripping it gently while pulling my closer to deepen the kiss. He tasted like wine and smelled like aftershave, and I never wanted the moment to end.

My fingers explored his damp hair while his tongue explored my mouth. With subtle moans escaping our throats, we got high off each other. Eventually his hand roamed to the end of my tank top, making chills spread over my skin. His fingers brushed slightly underneath it, trailing smoothly over my waistline and barely dipping into my shorts.

I pulled him closer, urging him to climb over me while I layed back on the couch. He held himself up with one arm as he hovered over me, settling between my legs as he kissed me.

Slipping my hand underneath his white t-shirt, I rubbed his toned stomach before following the happy trail down to his shorts and finding his hard cock pressing against the material . He was long and thick and in my hand while I stroked him. His head fell beside mine as he groaned in my ear, thrusting into my touch.

“Fuck, baby.” His voice was low and raspy.

My hips aligned with his waist until I felt the tip of him through his shorts pressing directly into my center. Luckily both of our shorts were thin enough to feel just enough friction as he slowly pushed into me over and over and over.

He fucked me slowly through our clothes, making me moan and scratch at his back. I've never done this before - with clothes on. But it somehow feels better than the actual thing. At least anything I've ever experienced. I became wetter with each of his thrusts and my heart raced in my lower core.

“We should stop, baby. As much as I would love to make you scream for me all night..” He paused, kissing below my ear. We’ve both been drinking.” He sounded like he was talking himself out of it, and I respected him for it.

I sighed. “You’re right.”

He grinned down at me before kissing my forehead. “You are so fucking beautiful. Why are you out here alone? What are you running from?”

There it is. The only thing we hadn’t talked about yet. And never will.

“It’s getting late. We should go to bed soon.”

His head dropped defeatedly but he nodded. “Right, fine.”

He climbed off of me, sitting back on couch, but I wasn’t ready to leave him yet. I looked down, noticing my book on the ground and picked it up before handing it to him. He raised an eyebrow at me but took it.

“Read to me?” I asked, grinning before lying back down and cuddling my head in his lap. He adjusted slightly, still hard from moments ago.

“You want me to read to you?” He chuckled, opening the pages and finding the spot where I left off.

“Mhm.” I mumbled, snuggling in closer and closing my eyes. His smooth voice put me to sleep in no time.

The next morning:

The sun peaking through the bedroom window and a pounding headache woke me up. I sat up quickly, remembering the events of last night.

Jumping out of bed, I looked all around the house, but there was no trace of him. His bag was gone, and every trace of our night together was erased except the empty wine bottle on the coffee table.

Was I going crazy? Was he even real? Was it all a dream?

These are the questions that kept me up at night while the days ran together and became longer. My hopes of my mystery man coming back were out the window, and I was starting to think being alone out here was making me mental.

A couple weeks later, I decided it was time to return to Alexandra and leave behind the memories of him. I left home to mourn Glenn, and now I’m leaving another safe haven to mourn the loss of someone else.

On my journey back, I did a lot of self reflecting, promising myself I’d never get close to someone again. I’m tired of losing people. Even ones who may not exist. I’ll go home and forget about him and focus on what matters. Getting justice for my brother.

Part 2 here

[daycourtofficial]

All’s well that ends well to end up with you

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1.5k | warnings: none

Summary: fears and doubts cause you and Eris to do your first irrational act together: a secret mating bond ceremony

Author’s note: happy Eris Week to all who celebrate and to @erisweekofficial for all their work!! I gotta start with my roots and my first post has to be gingerfucker!! I have to give the people what they know me for!! This can be read as a stand alone tho 🫶🏻

You breathed deeply, the chimes of the clock tower drowning out any other noise. Eris stood before you, an immaculate jacket of deep red adorning his chest. He wore a black dress shirt beneath, embroidered with the phases of the moon around the collar. His jacket was a rich velvet, gold thread woven throughout.

It was the perfect way to symbolize your unity. You were not sure who made such a garment, unsure if black fabric was even allowed in the Autumn Court.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to care when his soft amber eyes look down at you as he held out his arm for you.

The two of you were in the Day Court under the cover of darkness, a secret mating ceremony. It was truly quite romantic, a tale you hoped to share whenever it’s safe for you to do so.

You had come to visit Helion a month prior for negotiations on behalf of Rhysand. You had asked to come in Rhys’s stead because 1) you also had wanted to peruse the libraries and 2) you were hoping to negotiate a pegasus from Helion.

At least, those were the reasons you gave your brother.

The end of Amarantha’s reign had allowed you to finally see your mate for the first time in five decades, having slipped away to a spot in the woods after Rhys’s return to wait in hopes of just a glimpse of him.

You had waited impatiently, certain that the nerves and anxiety were rolling off you in waves for any nearby wildlife to intercept. It felt incredible to see him again, your face tucked beneath his chin as he held you close to him, his scent burning itself into your memory once more.

His first words to you following your separation were a desperate plea for a ceremony, his pleas soft as he clutched you tightly to his chest.

You knew it was too risky to do it in either of your home courts. Spring was an obvious no, Winter and Dawn were quite risky, leaving Summer and Day as your only real options.

You were quite fond of Helion, and you were sure you could convince him to allow the two of you passage into his court for a few hours.

After he listened to your pleas, he agreed to allow the two of you access to one of his temples for a few hours.

“Not all of us can see so well in the moonlight,” he had told you, letting you know the location of the most beautiful temple in his court. “Only one priestess roams the halls on Tuesday nights. She is quite fond of performing such ceremonies.”

His words were no embellishment. The temple before you was massive and stunningly beautiful. The high arched ceilings with suns painted everywhere almost glowed against the blue backdrop behind them.

You wondered how it looked during the day.

Eris looked down as you hooked your arm into his. You had accepted the bond decades ago, but the two of you wanted to go through with the ceremony. To ensure that no matter what happened to two of you moving forward, whatever happened to your courts, your people, your homes, there was some record with this date and your names on it. Some written record for future generations to find eons later, when the lands look nothing like they do now and the people live lives that resemble nothing like your own.

When the common tongue is gone, replaced with some newer language you couldn’t begin to understand. Your names would live forever within the pages of this temple, tucked away in their recorded archives: the prince of the Autumn Court and the princess of the Night Court, bound together by fate and by their own wishes.

The flickering light from the candles made Eris’s freckles dance across his face.

The lord led you down the long aisle, your arm nestled into his elbow. The two of you moved in tandem, your long skirts kissing the ground as you went, the black fabric turning red as it moved down your body until it looked as if you walked in the flames.

The priestess nodded at the two of you as you approached the altar, your dress’s slight train cascading down the steps behind you. You turned to Eris, his hands outstretched in invitation, pleading for yours to rest atop them. His hands were warm against yours, the familiar heat calming your nerves.

The priestess before you wore all white, a long flowing gown cinched at the waist. It looked nothing like what Helion wore - instead of long, flowing fabrics, the priestess wore a long, tight-fitted dress, long bell shaped sleeves adorning her arms. A white hood covered her dark black hair, and dark hands adorned with gold rings peaked out from her sleeves.

The priestess lit the candles around the altar as you two looked into each other’s eyes, every emotion strumming through the bond between you two, a song you swore you could hear humming through the air and your chest.

She approached the two of you, a golden silk ribbon in her hands. You moved your right hand into his right hand, and he gently scraped his index finger against his palm. She began chanting, wrapping the soft silk around your forearms. She connected the two joined hands, and you squeezed Eris’s palm, offering a soft smile that he returned.

He was captivating in the night, a fire that kept you warm long through a treacherous night.

Her chanting paused as she looked at you, her low voice telling you, “if you wish to exchange any personal vows, now is the time.”

You took a deep breath, turning back to Eris.

Your mate looked back at you, and any nerves you had dissipated as you started speaking, the words coming from your lips as you gazed into his amber eyes.

“I’m not sure if we were ever two separate things, but if we were, if we are, the edges of you and I have been blurring since I met you, our definitions becoming hazier. I am officially laying claim that there is no longer any part of me that hasn’t been invaded by you.

“I have prayed for you in bonfires, in the dying hearths of my childhood. I always viewed fire as a sacred thing, always offering it something so it can continue to burn before me. Perhaps I was just learning how to stoke the flames, or maybe I knew that worshiping the flame would lead me to you.”

His hand squeezed your own, the ribbon not feeling tight enough to truly blend the two of you together.

His eyes shone in the candlelight, his beauty intensified in the flame as if it knew he was kin.

“I have gone by many names. Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn throne, prick, eldest, …. All of those names pale in comparison to the first time you called me ‘mate’.

“That awful playwright who you adore so much put into one of his plays, “What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.” And yet, he never knew what it felt like to be called ‘yours’, what it feels like when you gaze at me so softly, to see the words ‘mine, mine, mine’ swimming in your irises.

“I do not know where my promises can lie, what I am truly capable of. I do not wish to commit to false promises. Our foundation has always been on feeble ground, and I do not wish to build a mateship on such poor foundations.

“I promise to do my very best for you, every day, every minute, for the rest of my life. I promise that every decision I will make will include you as a factor. As the factor. My life is complicated, as you are aware, but you are not complicated. You never have been. My chest yearns for you, at all times. You have always offered me the peace of familiarity.“

You surged forward, capturing his lips in a kiss before pulling back quickly.

“Er, I don’t care about my name, or my title. None of it compares to being called your mate.”

The priestess looked at you two, probably waiting to see if you would pounce on him right here. Maybe that was how they held these ceremonies in Day. You were sure Helion wouldn’t mind.

“You are bound together, from here for eternity, in perfect union. May the Mother bless you both with endless love and patience for each other.”

The air had a certain crispness to it at her words, the bond humming in your chest with satisfaction, satisfying a yearning that hadn’t let up for centuries.

Nobody could deny either of you the sanctity of your bond anymore.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @panther-girl-124

Thanks for reading ❣️

[stxrvel]

hate is a strong word

summary: you hated Bucky and you were convinced that he hated you back. until one time he was talking to you and it started to sound... lovely? what was happening?

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: 6k

warnings: some bad words, a lot of arguments, a HUGE flashback, a little bit of angst i think? bucky and reader insult each other, reader doesn't like to listen, bucky is easily angered, bucky likes to destroy things when he gets angry but regrets it easily, this is not exactly a healthy relationship(? descriptions of weapons, missiles and buildings being bombed, reader is also very stubborn and likes to put her life at risk… or so.

note: hi guys!! so i came back and i am kinda proud of this one. i think i haven't felt that way in a long time. i gave myself the time to write when i felt like it and it was wonderful, so this came out. also i put the poll for a whole week and i can't change it now >:(, but i think this onsehot fits the angst with a happy ending (im not sure if this fits the angst tho, you gotta tell me) but im gonna try to do something else that fits the vibe, and i'll probably do some other poll to write about someone else. (also i think i should warn you guys that i dont think im that good writing action scenes or tension scenes, so if that's bad i hope you forgive me): anyway, hope you guys like this one!! i love reading your comments so if you want and can, please leave some <33 love you all and see you next time!

part 2

Bucky was really pissing you off too much at that moment. Or maybe you were feeling a little uncomfortable.

He hadn't spoken a single word to you since you had arrived at that tiny house, only shrugged silently and then exploded. You had seen Bucky explode several times before and you admitted that watching him was somewhat entertaining; seeing the faces of frightened people, trying to flee away from his angry face and destructive hands, but physically forced to stand by and listen to his scolding. You used to have fun with that. However, at the time, when you were the extreme recipient of that anger, it wasn't so much fun.

You had already heard a couple of broken glass, shattered wood and metal containers fall to the ground. Maybe five minutes or so had passed and he was barely pausing to look at his artwork. It wasn't too much that he had taken and thrown while you had stayed in the room, but it had all sounded very loud, so you had no choice but to go out and see what he was doing.

You were leaning against the threshold of the hallway to the bedrooms, right across from the living room and kitchen. Bucky looked like he had just finished getting all his anger out when he finally stood silently. He probably thought you were asleep while he was doing all that, as if that sound couldn't wake you up. Was he really that angry about what you had done? You mean, yes, it was very risky, but there you were alive, weren't you?

You felt the best thing you could do was to stay quiet and wait for him to say or do something, because you could risk that angry outburst really coming down in your face. For that moment he had only taken it out on the house, which had nothing to do with your problems, and you didn't want the arguments to start filling the silence that followed his stillness.

But, well, you didn't always do the right thing. That's why you were in that situation in the first place.

“Are you done yet?” you signed your sentence.

Bucky had a tense posture, squared shoulders moving in rhythm with his accelerated breathing. His back was to you, staring at the kitchen counter that had been left completely empty. You knew by the way he was clasping his hands that he was trying to maintain his composure.

“Are you serious?” his voice came out hoarse, a sign of his growing anger.

Maybe you should have stopped there, or when he continued to not turn to look at you, but you just couldn't keep your mouth shut.

“What's your problem, Barnes? Yes, I took a chance, but it's not that big of a deal. It's not for this,” you pointed to the mess around you, even though he wasn't looking at you.

“It's not a big deal, you say?” Bucky moved and you felt yourself watching his angry figure move in slow motion. “What's your problem?”

His beady eyes met yours. You felt a little intimidated by the ripples of annoyance coming off his body, filling the entire room with an unbearable, suffocating tension. His scowl and that strangely calm tone of voice made your hair stand on end.

None of the pieces of glass or splintered wood on the floor looked as dangerous as that expression on Bucky's face. He looked very angry, yes, but there was also something in his eyes when he looked at you. Something like concern… but that was impossible.

“Really, Y/N, what's your problem? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Now, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I was the mission leader!” his voice rose, his body moving forward as he pointed his index finger at himself. “And you were supposed to follow my orders.”

“I did, Barnes, I-”

“No,” he exclaimed, again moving closer. “You didn't do anything I asked you to do! Why can't you just…? Argh.”

You moved back a little as he planted his hands on the dining room table. You felt a little pressure in your chest at the sight of him like this, as if defeated and hopeless. Disappointed. But that was a common thing. That's why you used to have individual missions, and that's why you didn't really like working in a team. You mean, it wasn't wrong to do it, but everything always ended up in arguments because nobody liked the way you worked, so it was better to do it alone, right?

Seeing Bucky like that reminded you of how many times you had seen that look on the faces of Steve, Natasha, Tony, Clint, even Thor… It was never welcome nor were you comfortable with what was coming next, but it was the way you worked, how could you change out of nowhere something you had done your whole life?

Maybe you just had to apologize, sometimes that worked. Because you also knew that, knowing how bossy and caring Bucky was, you should have at least held back a little during the mission. Bucky's patience couldn't stand that sort of thing.

“Listen, I'm sorry, okay? I was a little careless, but that's how-”

“A little careless?” he interrupted you, his voice and face incredulous. "You almost got yourself killed."

“We're in this job under that risk, Barnes, that's not news.”

The man in the middle of the mess ran his hands over his face, elated, frustrated and surely overwhelmed. He let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a growl before turning back to look at you.

“Why can't you just listen?”

His accusing gaze enlarged a hole in your chest that you constantly tried to ignore, planting bitter feelings of sadness that you were usually very good at avoiding. But at that moment, for some reason, you couldn't stop your face from twitching at the strong, hurt tone of the man who looked at you as if he couldn't believe who you are and what you do. It seemed like Bucky was always in denial and today he realized that what everyone always told him was true.

That look, that dull gleam in his eye, that expression of understanding… All of that you were used to seeing, but coming from him it felt different. As if you hadn't really meant to cause those feelings, as if you wanted to turn back time to do things differently. The surprisingly incredulous and remorseful look was digging deep into your head, searing itself with hot iron to make sure to haunt you in the future.

At that moment you didn't care if Bucky realized how much his words affected you. Maybe you deserved to feel that way. Maybe he should have known that it affected you too much, that would surely do more than an apology.

“If only you had listened to me, we would have left sooner and without any trouble,” Bucky spoke again after what felt like hours of silence.

You couldn't take him back. It was true.

“Why did you…? Argh. Whatever. I'm going to report to Fury.”

His figure passed you like a blur. You barely felt his presence very superficially before all was silent again.

Your heart ached again. For some reason, it wouldn't stop hurting that it was still beating.

The day before.

“WHAT?” you exclaimed in disbelief and the director's tired look reappeared.

“It's already scheduled, Y/N, I can't undo it. So just go, try to cooperate together and come back in one piece,” Fury leaned back against the back of the chair, putting his feet up on the desk.

You looked at his shoes as if they were to blame for everything.

“It's funnier to think Bucky reacted the same way,” Tony spoke up, sitting in the chair next to yours, a mocking expression on his face.

“Shut up,” you smacked his arm before turning back to the director. “Sir, you know Barnes and I don't get along and knowing that, what makes you think we'll hit it off on a mission?”

Fury shrugged. “A hunch.”

“A hunch…?” you repeated in a low tone, twice as incredulous that the big SHIELD director had just said that.

“That's it, agent, you're dismissed.”

You left his office on your own, not because you had been dispatched. The walk to the housing complex took you longer than ever at that point.

You'd only had one mission with Bucky Barnes once a couple of years ago and it had been a disaster. Your group missions usually ended with a close call, but that time with Bucky it was like going to hell and back.

You two had never gotten along. Regardless of Fury's hundreds of attempts to get along, you had never managed to vibrate on the same frequency. It seemed more like you repelled each other every time you were together, and it was totally justified because Bucky was too bossy and wouldn't let you breathe for a single second. Every second of the mission had to be ruled by him because otherwise he was going to explode into a sea of rage and, God, no one wanted to piss Bucky off in that Complex. However, you were always the first to tell him that his tactics weren't working or that he was too slow and well, naturally, you ended up arguing.

You met Natasha and Steve halfway to the rooms and from the way they both looked at each other before the redhead approached you knew you must surely have a scrunched up face.

“Did something happen?” Natasha asked as soon as she reached your side and started walking at the same pace as you, slightly more hurried than usual.

“Fury assigned me a mission with Barnes,” you spat out the good news, impossibly frowning harder at the mention of that name.

“Oh,” Natasha nodded. “Well, you could try to work things out-”

“What things, Natasha?” you paused, turning to look at her as everything around you turned red. “There's nothing to fix here, because Barnes is a stubborn, obstinate, childish, bossy, stupid man who is incapable of speaking like a civilized adult and only knows how to shout orders everywhere as if he's the bossy one in the Complex. I can't stand him!”

“Wow.”

You heard his voice.

“I hope you know the feeling is reciprocated.”

You turned to see him, his body was leaning against the island at the entrance to the kitchen, in a strategic spot as if you could never realize he was there because your path was to the other side. Natasha watched between the two of you like a tennis match, fearful as if at any moment the screaming would start and she would have to run away.

You didn't know what to do. You were super angry, yes, and you felt your blood boiling inside your veins, too. And you'd said all that stuff to Bucky's face before, and God knows how many times before you'd argued just by seeing each other in the halls of the Complex. Despite that, you felt trapped. The anger was still there, yes, but his gaze pierced through you like a sword.

“Believe me, I don't want to go on this mission with a stubborn, obstinate, headstrong, ignorant, individualist like you either, who cares not for the safety of the team but for her own victory, no matter how she achieves it.”

With his eyes sharp, his heavy footsteps approached you, echoing in your head loudly like the second hand of a clock. He had stopped at a safe distance as he spoke and at one point Natasha had grabbed your arm when it seemed you had tried to approach him as well.

“You're a hypocrite,” you spat at him.

“Ha! Me?”

“You always play the saintly dove, but you know you're not much different from me.”

“I'm nothing like you,” Bucky wrinkled his face, as if the very thought caused him to shiver with disgust.

“You're an individualist, too, imposing your plans on others.”

“You never have a plan! What do you expect me to do, let you go and die?”

“I do have plans! But you don't like them because they are more effective than yours.”

“They're more effective at the cost of risking more of our lives.”

“That's what our job is all about!”

“Our job is about protecting! How are you going to accomplish a mission if you're dead?”

“Well, I've done pretty well so far, in case you haven't noticed.”

“If I had a nickel for every time you've gone airhead straight into danger and ended up nowhere near dead, I'd have as much money as Stark.”

“And if I had a nickel for every time your stupid, slow plans have caused you to lose sight of the target and made you come back empty-handed, I'd be twice as rich as Stark.”

“At least my kill rate is minus five.”

“And my hit rate is one hundred by the way.”

“Are you even listening to what you're saying?”

“That I always finish missions on the first try, unlike you?”

“That you're treating your life like it's something insignificant.”

“Ah, now you care about my life?”

Natasha tightened her hand around your forearm again preventing you from again getting too close to the man who was getting on your nerves. Before he could respond, you spoke again:

“Look, Barnes, to make it absolutely clear to you for the rest of your long life: I love my life and I love my job. I love my life because it allows me to have this job and I love my job because it allows me to have this life. If you have a problem with how I choose to do the job, that's just that, your problem. But don't think you're coming here to give me a psychology lesson to make me believe that I don't value my life just because now you've run out of arguments. It's because I value my life, Barnes, that I always come out of every mission unscathed. I don't put myself at risk because I'm oblivious. I always have everything figured out and that's why everything always works out for me.”

Bucky snorted, his body moving away from yours, but despite that expression on his face he didn't respond again. He gave you a sidelong glance before walking back into the kitchen.

Your shoulders felt a little lighter. For a moment you thought he was going to continue arguing.

Natasha next to you sighed, finally letting go of your forearm.

“Why did you hold me so tight?” you frowned at her, rubbing the part of your skin that was slightly red. “Did you really think I was going to fight a super soldier?”

Natasha shrugged under your gaze.

“We've known you to do crazy things.”

“I wouldn't have stood a chance of beating him even if he gave me the upper hand.”

Five hours earlier.

You hadn't seen Bucky for the rest of the day after that discussion, until the next day when you had to get on the Quinjet and didn't even glance at each other.

Steve was in charge of handling the airplane and, apparently, he was also in charge of briefing you on how you were going to proceed on the mission, because Bucky was too busy drilling holes with his gaze somewhere else on the Quinjet away from the two of you.

Neither spoke when you descended nor when you approached the base apparently in a state of abandonment.

Bucky's mission were flat and simple, but as usual he had no backup plan, because all his backup plans were the same: run away. Bucky had a chick's sense of survival, that's why when things went bad was the time when he would scream at you the loudest.

Just like it happened on that mission.

“This place is deadly quiet,” you spoke for the first time, barely earning a sidelong glance from the man next to you.

You had already finished thermo-sensor checking every floor of the building and it was indeed desolate. Still, you felt a strange uncomfortable chill run down your back.

“Well, that's what deserted means,” Bucky commented, his sarcasm sharp.

You rolled your eyes at him, even if he couldn't see you, and kept walking with your gun raised as you approached the checkpoint.

“I mean I can't even hear birds or crickets, doesn't that strike you as odd?”

“Well, we're on the fourth floor, wouldn't it make it stranger if you could hear them at this altitude?”

“Well, you can hear at this height. Tell me, do you hear anything down below?”

Bucky paused. They were a few steps away from reaching the room. His deadly stare caused you nothing but boredom and you would have ignored him completely except that he let out a sigh, dejected. You detailed him minutely as he seemed to focus his hearing on external sounds.

“There's nothing,” he spoke after a few seconds, his brow slightly furrowed.

“You see?”

“But that doesn't mean anything. We'd better finish this quickly.”

Ignoring the grimace on your face, Bucky moved to step into the room whose door was wide open. You stared offended at his back and felt the urge to smack his big head with the butt of your gun.

“Here it is,” you heard him exclaim from inside.

Sighing you made your way to where he stood. A large display of old computers anchored to the wall.

“You should do it yourself,” you looked at Bucky with a smirk. “I don't handle equipment this old.”

Bucky only snorted in response and moved with his gun to another side of the room, leaving you in complete silence to do your job.

You moved quietly and sat down in front of the machines. You plugged them into the power source you brought in your suitcase and in a few minutes they began to work.

The mission was simple. There was one of the old HYDRA bases that contained specific information that Fury needed to find. Up to that point, they had searched about seven abandoned bases without any success. So there you were with Bucky, at the eighth base they had identified, digging through old commands and in another language trying to find the information they needed.

Ever since they left the Complex that morning you were convinced you would find nothing. They had already raided several bases and there were still a few more to go. The probability that you would find that information at that time was…

Bingo.

“Got it,” you exclaimed to Bucky.

You heard his hurried footsteps and then felt the warmth of his body next to you.

“Is that it?”

“Just a folder.”

“And why does it load so slowly?”

“It's an old computer, Bucky, it works at its own pace.”

Bucky gave you a sidelong glance. “Wish you understood me like you understand that thing.”

“Aish,” you pouted by way of mockery. “Jealous, Barnes?”

The aforementioned just snorted.

The load was running at forty percent and truth be told, yes, it was too slow. But you could do nothing but wait, there was no way to speed it up.

Bucky paced back and forth behind you and you just watched the green lines move as if that helped at all. But, well, what else could you do?

At one point, as the charge was about to reach eighty percent, you heard interference on your communicators.

“Argh,” you shook your head and raised your hand to move the device a little away until the sound died down. “Steve?”

There was no response.

You turned to look at Bucky, who had the same quizzical expression.

The interference returned and then you heard Steve's voice distorted.

“… of… moment!”

“What the fuck is he saying?”

Bucky remained silent, tapping the device on his ear as if that would fix it.

But you saw it before you heard Steve's voice again.

A clump of people through the window. A freshly loaded cannon.

“Barnes…”

And at that moment, Steve's voice filled them with clarity.

“It's an ambush! Get out of there now!”

The quickness of the impact didn't let you process what was happening. Less than a second after hearing Steve the ground shook beneath your feet. The cracks in the floor started small and then swallowed you apart.

You held onto a beam, barely lucid enough. You propelled yourself upward, swinging your forearms over the patch of ground that was still intact. You heard Bucky's grunts in the distance. He was surely all right.

You heard him call out to you too, but as soon as you could sit down on the ground, the first thing you did was to reach for the pendrive.

Your heart was pounding, so hard it might as well have flown out on its own. Your breathing accelerated, with adrenaline rushing through your body was the only thing you could feel. At that moment you felt capable of anything.

You stood up quickly to look out the window again. The people were gone and the cannon had been destroyed.

It was at that moment that you realized that Steve was still talking on the communicator.

“I'm fine,” you replied, after being able to decipher his words amidst the constant buzzing from the sound of the explosion and the dizziness you felt at the sight of the hole next to you.

“Okay, you're both fine,” the Captain spoke again.

“Y/N, you can get down from there and get to the floor below. I'll catch you.”

At the sound of Bucky's voice, you moved away from the window.

Bucky had landed on the floor below, and yes, from where you were you could jump up and you'd probably have nothing but a cramp.

“How's it going up there?”

“Well, the shields are holding up okay, but I've got poor vision. I think they're regrouping somewhere else.”

You looked around.

Most of the floor had swallowed up the computers, but the main one was still loading the document. You could see the green from where you were. It was at ninety-seven percent.

But it was dangerous to get too close. The pendrive was dangling from the main computer which was about to succumb to the cracked floor.

There was some concrete left in front of the computers that you could walk across, so, without a second thought, you mapped out a mental guidance plan and moved forward.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?”

“I'm getting the pendrive.”

“What? Are you insane? That side of the floor isn't going to support your weight!”

“Yes it will. I know how to do it.”

You started walking all over the remaining edge of the floor in front of what was left of the computers. Small pieces would break off as you passed causing Bucky to hiss.

“Y/N, you'd better stop and get down right now. There's still a risk of them firing again.”

“I'm gonna get it, Barnes.”

“Y/N! Get down, now!”

Ignoring his command, you held onto the remaining wall in front of you as you continued on your way, almost reaching where the pendrive was, about to fall into the abyss.

Ninety-eight percent.

“Y/N!”

“Fucking hell, Barnes, will you shut the fuck up? Your yelling is breaking my concentration.”

“You want me to just stay quiet while you walk to your certain death?”

“I'm not going to dieee- ahh-”

Your left foot, the one in front, wobbled as a piece of the floor came loose. You clung tightly to the wall as best you could, breathing deeply to calm your racing heart. Panicking at that moment wasn't going to do any good.

“God, I can't believe this,” you heard Bucky's voice, muttering to himself. “Now are you really going to get off?”

His voice sounded reprimanding, but agitated. In the midst of that mess, you wondered for a moment if he was really worried.

“I'm almost there.”

You heard him grunt in the distance.

You kept moving your feet in the direction of the main computer, this time more cautiously and more slowly. The floor all along that edge was too cracked, on the verge of falling. You were surprised it had lasted this long.

At that point, Bucky started talking to Steve, but you kept your full concentration on not falling. Maybe Bucky was right and you really didn't have any regard for your life, but…. No, no. You were very sure of what you were doing. You couldn't give up without trying everything. Maybe for Bucky it was too risky, but that was your life. And you knew you could do it.

Ninety-nine.

You had reached the critical point on the ground.

The voices of the two men were becoming too overwhelming, so you quickly took off your communicator and stuffed it in one of your tactical pants pockets.

“What the fuck did you just do?” Bucky exclaimed, a considerable distance away. He wasn't as far away as you thought.

“Your voices are distracting me!”

Good. You were close. Maybe from there you could reach it… if you stretched a little… a little more… a little- Whoop. Nope. You weren't that close. Another chunk of floor fell and with it everything around you shifted. The concrete was so unstable that it tilted further into the abyss after your not at all incredible maneuver.

You had to get even closer.

You had to use plan c.

But for that, the pendrive had to be one hundred percent charged and you weren't sure you could wait for that. Or well, you weren't sure the floor would hold. You had to be quick.

You heard Bucky behind you, but his words were carried away by the wind. You couldn't focus on him because that would be too distracting.

So, arriving at point x, you executed your plan as quickly as possible.

You ran. Even if the world was falling down, you ran. In the direction of the pendrive. The green number didn't change. You took a deep breath. You felt the sparks fly around you. The sound of the ground cracking was going to haunt you in several dreams.

You picked up the pendrive. You would have a few extra seconds as you leaned over and climbed over the computers to gain momentum.

The bing of the computer filled you with a rush of adrenaline.

One hundred percent.

You jumped. You held your breath for a second. Nerves built up in your throat. You felt like you were going to lose consciousness for a minute. Maybe you heard Bucky in the background, you weren't sure, but knowing him he was probably still scolding you.

In the midst of a deep exhalation…

Your feet hit the ground. You rolled. You moved quickly as you turned to see that the ground was still falling. You got up and ran.

You ran until you collided with a solid body. Bucky was shaking your shoulders.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he exclaimed, his face angry.

You could hear Steve's voice through his communicator because of how close he was.

“Shit.”

He grabbed your arm and you ran again.

Somehow, Bucky managed to get you out of the building as they bombed it again. You had a gunfight the moment you touched the cold snow.

You moved alongside Bucky like a symphony, aiming and firing with your gun until you managed to get away.

When you noticed that you kept going and kept running…

“Where's Steve?”

“If you had your fucking communicator on…”

Bucky grabbed your hand again to keep running.

You quickly reached a shack that looked abandoned and the man next to you wasted no time in letting go of you and running in the direction of what appeared to be a garage. There was a motorcycle.

You reached into your pocket only to realize that the communicator had been destroyed.

And Bucky looked too angry to want to talk.

“Get on.”

He drove all the way into town, but he didn't stop there.

You were on the road for at least about two hours. You had no idea where you were.

Somewhere along that trip, Bucky stopped in front of another abandoned shack and from there he pulled out a car. He set the bike on fire.

You went back on the road, for at least another hour.

Until you reached a small town and Bucky finally stopped in front of a house that didn't look so neglected.

“They destroyed the Quinjet's shields at missile point. Steve had to leave. We'll stay here until I can get through to Fury and we know what to do.”

His voice gave no room for retorts.

Present.

Well, yes, you were a bit reckless during missions, but so what? You got what you needed thanks to your incredible action plans and always came out unscathed. If you didn't do that during missions, how far behind would they be now in their knowledge against the enemy? They would probably be sitting ducks. Bucky didn't see that.

You two didn't talk for much of the afternoon and evening. You had spent it in the living room, trying to avoid the mess he had made to get something to eat and rest. You had perhaps slept for about three hours when you woke up and saw him sitting in one of the dining room chairs. The room looked cleaner than before.

Bucky sighed when he realized you had woken up.

“I'm sorry I yelled at you.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Earlier when we arrived. And for all the mess,” he averted his gaze when you leaned on your forearm to get a better look at him.

“Don't you think it was the least you could do?” quizzical, you sat back on the couch.

“Weren't you the one who said I don't know how to talk like a civilized adult?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Sometimes.”

“Well, now I want to. That's why I deeply apologize for reacting that way.”

You remained silent, not really knowing how to answer him. On the previous mission you'd had with Bucky, when the whole mess was over and you were quietly in the Quinjet taking it all in, Bucky had only said “you're fucking crazy” to you before exiting the aircraft. There was no scolding, at least not from him, no complaining, no yelling. Just that. And with that you stayed for a week because you never even saw him again.

Despite the number of times you had heard that, you couldn't see it that way. That was your job, that was what you did and you didn't dislike it. You had done it forever, it was basically your way of life and you had always done it excellently. You trained and practiced for situations like that, that's why you were part of SHIELD's risk management team for so long. You used to risk your life like that to save other people and it didn't bother you. Now you were still doing it, also to save people. There was no dark reason behind it. You were contributing to a common good and that was enough.

“I guess I haven't made things bearable for you either,” you admitted with a hint of remorse.

“No, never,” Bucky shook his head in agreement.

“I'm sorry I scared you,” the words slipped from your mouth. You wanted to say something else, but, well, that had to work.

Bucky let out a short laugh. His head jerked in sync, his shoulders loose as if he didn't have a care in the world. For a moment you felt like you were somewhere else; maybe in a living room, some alcoholic beverage in one of your hands as one of your favorite songs played softly in the background, and Bucky. Bucky sitting in front of you, just like that moment.

Wow. What the fuck was that?

“You apologize for my reaction, but not for what you did?” his sly grin was getting on your nerves. You preferred it when he wasn't trying to upset you at the point of smirks. You never thought that was a weapon he could use against you.

Feelings.

Ew.

No, I hate Bucky Barnes. This is unacceptable. Mind, get your shit together.

“Well, I tried to do that earlier and you didn't care. I don't know what you want from me, Barnes,” you turned your head away, nonchalantly playing with your hair to avoid seeing those light eyes again.

“You'd better leave it at that. I couldn't take that knack away from you if I tried for years,” the sigh that accompanied his words reminded you of something you'd thought of when you were in the building. His face still looked calm, but a little upset by the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“Why do you care so much about that?” you asked him directly now that you had the chance.

You looked at him as he turned his head away, his eyes roaming over your face, confused.

“Are you asking me why I care about your life?”

Puzzled, you shrugged. His look almost made you think that was a weird thing to ask, but was it really? “Yes. Well…. You hate me.”

“What? I don't hate you,” Bucky shook his head, his face more contracted than before as if you'd said he had cat ears on his head. He looked almost offended.

And that was the really strange thing.

You mean, almost as long as you'd known Bucky your relationship had been based on fights and demeaning adjectives to each other. That he would say that made even less sense than you asking him why he cared so much about you. He had to be pulling your leg.

“What? But I hate you because you hate me,” you explained vaguely, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. That was one way of putting it; that is to say, Bucky never gave any indication that he didn't hate you. Or well…

“I don't hate you,” Bucky shrugged, his nonchalant expression confusing you that much more. “You're just a little… insufferable sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes. “That's just a synonym for hating.”

“I don't hate you,” he repeated, this time turning to look you in the eye. For a moment you felt like your breath caught in your throat and you were going to choke. “I know we argue and say a lot of things to each other, but… hating is too strong a feeling.”

“Are you really serious?” you shook your head to get the extraneous thoughts out; that wasn't the time to make a discovery, to realize you had lived a lie.

“Yes. And just to make you more sure, I wouldn't mind hanging out with you outside the Complex,” Bucky blurted out, matter-of-factly.

Your head went blank.

“WHAT?”

Several seconds stunned.

Bucky barely cracked a smile at your dumbfounded expression. It sure looked like you'd actually seen cat ears grow on his head. The things he was now saying… they didn't make sense. “You dislike the idea that much?”

“Do you want to not say things so drastically different every moment? You're changing my perception of reality.”

Bucky kept his small smile and you had to swallow hard to ignore the warmth that settled in your chest. It wasn't welcome, not at that moment. The sound of that music in the living room in your head was getting louder, as if your own mind wanted to mock your surprise.

“Well, back to your question,” Bucky moved his hands nonchalantly over his lap and your eyes followed his movement unashamedly, “I don't see why I shouldn't care about your life. We are partners, after all.”

Partners? After all you had been through? Were you partners? Did Bucky believe that?

“Are we?” you didn't try to hide the incredulous tone that accompanied your words, because it already sounded like you'd just stepped through the door into a parallel dimension.

“Sure,” Bucky nodded to emphasize your words and the calm expression on his face became more familiar with each passing second. Could it be that that had always been the reality and you had been deprived of it? “We've known each other for five years.”

“I always thought you hated me…” you mumbled to yourself, looking lost because your head recalling every fight of the last few years, since you met him, every tongue out and every exalted word, but his incredible hearing clearly picked up what you said as if you had murmured it in his ear.

“Surely it was a mistake in communication.”

“Mistake?” you frowned at his reassurance. “You always called me stubborn and childish every chance you got.”

“I thought we were annoying each other. Although, of course,” his face became a little more serious, “there were times when I knew you hated me intensely. You said really hurtful things, what was I supossed to do? That's why I never bothered to talk to you like this. You did hate me.”

“Because I thought you…! Argh.”

Bucky smiled again.

“You're the insufferable one, Barnes.”

You hated the way your head snapped back to that image in the living room, so peaceful and calm, so serene and warm, the moment his barely noticeable smile hit you again. You had barely managed to get those words out of your mouth before you felt yourself running out of breath again.

Were you asthmatic?

And why was your head suddenly filled with platonic thoughts you'd never had before in your life?

What the fuck was happening to you?

“This is the longest civilized conversation we've ever had,” Bucky spoke again, his gaze wandering somewhere in the room.

Yes, that was true. Whenever you talked for this long it was always to argue and say hurtful things to each other. But you were too surprised by everything he had said, because just yesterday he told you that he didn't want to come on this mission with you either and in his eyes you were sure you saw something like what you felt. Something of hatred, when you saw your eyes through his.

Did you just… imagine it all?

Did you think he hated you because you hated him too?

Or maybe you wanted to convince yourself that he hated you. Maybe it was easier to deal with that than with the idea that you…

Oh no.

No, no, no. There's no fucking way that's it.

But then Bucky stood up and with his smug, know-it-all, hateful look, with that sly, evil grin, like he'd always known everything, like he was squirming around enjoying your confused stare, he held out his hand to you and said:

“Shall we fix something to eat?”

Oh, no, you were screwed.

--

a/n: thank u so much for reading!! <3

[marvelsmylife]

I still love you . . . I promise

Pairing: Liam Mairi x reader

Plot: You broke up with Liam because Xaden ordered him to spend his free time protecting Violet. When you reject Liam’s multiple attempts to reconcile, Xaden decides to step in and help. But is he going to make things better, or make things worse for Liam?

Masterlist

Request

Guilt. That’s what Xaden was currently feeling as he watched you blatantly ignore Liam, while Liam was trying to talk to you during breakfast. It had been seven weeks since you ended things with Liam and he wasn’t taking it well. Xaden felt guilty because he was the one who ordered Liam to be by Violet’s side at all times. He still remembers the day he walked in on you breaking up with Liam.

Xaden walked into Liam’s room to ask him for a favor when he heard you shout, “If you loved me you would spend time with me. I miss you. I haven’t had alone time with you for five months.”

“I’m sorry, but Xaden ordered me to watch over her because she was being targeted by other cadets,” Liam tried to reason with you, “You know I love you and want to spend time with you, right?”

You let out a dry laugh at Liam’s excuse which caused Liam to sigh, “Honestly? I don’t even know anymore. If you truly love someone you would spend time with them, not with another girl.”

Letting out a shaky breath you looked up at Liam and said, “I can’t do this anymore. I think we should break up.” Xaden accidentally knocked something off Liam’s drawer and got your attention, “I better go, your boss is here,” and left before Liam or Xaden had the chance to speak.

Since that day Liam became unusually quiet around everyone. He also barely made any eye contact with Xaden, which made Xaden feel uneasy.

Liam spent the majority of his time doing what Xaden ordered him to do, watching over Violet. He also started making wood carvings of your dragon and leaving them outside of your door. Each day he’d hope that you would accept his wood carvings and take him back, but as day turned to weeks they would remain untouched. 

Of course, he did try to talk to you in person and beg countless times for a second chance. Those pleas would fall on deaf ears as you would ignore Liam’s existence.

Xaden tried to talk to you on several occasions to see if you could give Liam another chance. Unfortunately, every time he got close, you would leave claiming your wing leader needed you. Xaden knew you were lying but couldn’t bring himself to call you out on it. He knew if he did it would make things ten times worse for Liam.

He waited until you were alone to corner you and asked what it would take for you to give Liam another chance. “Admit that you ruined our relationship !” You shouted at Xaden, “We would still be together if you wouldn’t have ordered Liam to guard Violet around the clock. Ironically I’ve seen more of Liam now that I broke up with him than I did the last four months we were together.”

“Yes, I’m sorry I ruined your relationship ! ! !” Xaden shouted back, “I was just looking out for Violet. I didn’t think that me ordering him to guard her that much would cause you to break up with him.” Xaden inhaled sharply, “Listen, Liam is really fucking distraught over your breakup and you can hate me all you want for giving Liam those orders but please just give him a second chance.”

You wanted nothing more than to say yes and take Liam back, to pretend the last few weeks never happened. Unfortunately, the thought of him abandoning you like before stops you in your tracks. “I have to go,” you push past Xaden and rush back to your room.

No one saw or spoke to you for several days as you tried to process your interaction with Xaden. Your heart was telling you to forgive Liam and start over. Your brain on the other hand was telling you to guard your heart, and never speak to Liam again.

It wasn’t until one rainy night that you finally made up your mind. You lightly knocked on Liam’s door for a few seconds before Liam appeared shirtless at the door. “Y/n?” Liam looked at you as if he was wondering if he was dreaming or not.

“Can I come in?” you asked, scared he might say no.

To your surprise, he agrees immediately and lets you in. He quickly brought you to his bed where you told him how you’ve felt the past few weeks. He listened as you told him how insecure you became watching him get close to another girl. Yes, she was clearly interested in someone else, but it still hurt to watch them interact when you barely spent time with him. By the end, you told him that as heartbroken as you were, you couldn’t deny how much you loved and missed him. “I want to forgive you so bad, but I’m scared you’re going to break my heart again,” you admitted, tears streaming down your face.

“Hey, hey listen, ” Liam cupped your face and rested his forehead against yours, “I love you so much and I’m so sorry I’ve been a shitty boyfriend to you the past few months. I don’t deserve a second chance, but if you decide to give me a second chance, I promise I won’t take you for granted again. I’ll talk to Xaden and tell him to get someone else to protect Violet if you want. I need you in my life again.”

You started crying harder at Liam’s words because you knew Liam was being serious, “Promise?”

Liam leaned in and kissed you. He sighed as it was the first time he’d gotten to kiss you in weeks. “Promise” Liam whispered back.

[destinationtrekk]

i notice (when you're not around)

He promised to always answer when you needed him, no matter what. Or, 5 times he answers your call, and one time you answer his.

2.3k, 5+1 things, mentioned/referenced sex, cursing, domestic fluff, jealousy, canon compliant, S.T.A.R.S reader, I just think Wesker would be the best husband

a/n: all my fics are cross posted to my ao3

-> masterlist

-> i notice (when you're not around) on ao3

One

“Wesker speaking.” 

He’s standing in the hallway, only half paying attention to his phone as he keeps an eye on the agents in the conference room. Chris and Barry sounded to be on the verge of snapping at each other, but he had promised to answer when you called. 

“Captain! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think you’d actually answer.” 

He hums absently, narrowing his eyes into the room, before his attention snaps to you. “Are you crying?” 

You sniffle a few times and clear your throat. “I- no! No, I’m fine! It’s okay, listen I shouldn’t have called, you sound busy-” 

“I am, we’re debriefing with the Beta team. What do you need?” He doesn’t mean to sound harsh, you’re obviously upset, but he really can see Chris’ eyes about to bulge out of his head with every word Barry spits at him. 

“I- well, it’s really embarrassing, actually, but someone rear-ended me and they drove off, but I can’t get dispatch to answer because I think there’s something going on downtown-” 

He barks out your name, “Get to the point.” 

You suck in an audible breath and sniffle again. “My car is totaled, and I think I have a concussion.” 

Chris is now standing over the table, sneering at Barry while Jill and Rebecca hold both of them back. Wesker sighs heavily, and hangs his head. “Where are you? I’m leaving now.” 

Two

You’re sitting stiffly on his couch - the couch , you keep forgetting this is technically your home now too. He’s only been gone a week, but the dark woods and long driveway outside the house drive an eerie feeling straight through your stomach. Your phone is pressed tightly to your ear, the dial tone like a death bell over the speaker. 

“Wesker speaking.” 

You suck in a breath, suddenly at a loss for words. What had you even called for? 

He makes a sound like he’s checking the phone and grumbles. “I'm busy. What is it?” 

You snap out of whatever nervous trance you were in. “Sorry, it’s nothing, I just thought I heard something and I thought- it’s fine!” Your voice squeaks as you try to excuse why you really wanted to call. Somehow over the last year he's become a comfort to you, somewhere between being your suave mysterious Captain to stealing you away after the Arklay incident. He hadn’t left you alone longer than a day or two since then. Now, sitting alone in the middle of the night in his- your - dark, empty house, you just really needed to hear his voice. 

“Are you afraid of the dark?” He sounds smug, and you hear the crunch of snow and distant yelling. “Poor pet. You miss me, don’t you?” 

You scowl and blush. “Wha- no! When are you coming home?” 

He chuckles darkly and hums. He doesn’t speak for a moment, and you bite your lip as you sway in place, trying to channel your nerves. How do you ask for the terrorist who practically kidnapped you for reassurance? His voice has an unfamiliar note to it when he replies. “Shouldn’t be much longer. You know I can’t tell you more.” 

“Oh, yeah, right.” You swallow around the lump in your throat, voice sounding small. “I just… can’t sleep. I got used to you talking in your office, and now it’s… really quiet outside.” 

He’s quiet again, and you laugh awkwardly to fill the same silence that’s making you paranoid. “Sorry, that’s probably weird-” 

“Go lay down, pet. In my bed.” 

You freeze at his words, choking on a breath as he sighs. You had been in his room a total of once, only after you drunkenly kissed him and he put you to bed. You hadn’t talked about that night, but he had been…not affectionate, but certainly less distant since it happened. 

“I’m serious. I can talk for a few more minutes, but that’s it.” 

You quickly make your way to his room, crawling under his soft sheets and laying there stiffly. He must hear the rustle of the sheets and your tense breaths because he scoffs. “It’s just a bed, relax. Nothing is getting in there without me finding out.” 

You whisper a weak “Okay,” and listen as he begins to tell you about something simple he’s been doing in Antarctica, and you realize he’s definitely making up details to cover what’s really going on. You don’t mind though, and quickly begin to drift off to the gruff rumble of his voice. You’re nearly asleep when he says he has to go, but you swear you can hear one last thing before he hangs up, and the three quiet words sound suspiciously like what you had whispered to him, right before kissing him. 

You might be wrong though, but the sheets smell like him, and you finally sleep through the night. 

Three

“Hello, dearheart.” 

“Are you alone? Take me off speaker.” Your voice was dark, and you heard Albert’s sigh. You imagined him rolling his eyes the way he did when you made a joke he didn’t like. “I’m serious, Albert. This is important.” 

That caught his attention. You heard him speak low away from the phone, and then the click of a door shutting. “What’s wrong? Are you oka-” 

“You need to get rid of her. Right now.” You cut him off, gripping your phone so tight your fingers were starting to ache. “I mean it, if I so much as hear her voice -”

“What the hell are you on about?” He sounded nearly as pissed as you now, and you felt a spark of vindication in your chest. “I don’t have time to listen to you throw a tantrum because I can’t babysit you. I have work to do.” 

“Watch your mouth, Albert, I’m not the one letting an Italian nepo baby run her filthy hands all over me. I don’t give a shit what work you have to do, you should consider yourself lucky I haven’t gotten rid of her myself.” 

He was silent for a moment, and then his laugh rumbled through your speaker. “Fiesty today, are we, pet?” He paused, and sighed. Despite your anger, your lip twitched in amusement at the thought of him sliding his glasses up and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I am… sorry, that she did that. But you know what’s at stake here, and that she is a key part of Tri-Cell-” 

You scoffed. “Yeah, Tri-Cell’s expansion, whatever. I don’t care. She can be a key part over a fucking Skype call for all I care, just keep. Her hands. Off of you.” You growled into the phone, white-knuckling the desk you were standing over. His desk, actually, where you had sneakily logged into his database and were watching his hacked security systems. You smirked to yourself at his bristling silence. He may be the evil mastermind, but he didn’t keep you around for nothing. 

“I’ll do what I can.” 

It was as good a promise as you would ever get from him, and you hummed flatly, your anger starting to dissipate. “Fine… please come home in one piece.” 

He huffed again, but sounded softer. “I will, sweet thing.” 

You let a smile slip out at his words. “I love you, Al.” 

“Stop going into my office when I’m gone.” 

The call clicked, and you set your phone on his desk. You looked back up to the monitors, seeing him enter the room with Excella and Jill again, but this time he pointedly waved her off as she approached. Your mouth twitched in a smirk. Albert may not be a sweet man, but he certainly knew when to listen. 

Four 

“I expected more of a challenge after all this time, Chris. How disappointing…” 

Before Wesker could sneer at Chris’ cheesy retort, his phone rang in his pocket. He immediately pulled it out, recognizing your ringtone like he would his own voice. “Yes?” 

“Hi, baby. You’re not busy, are you? The neighbors just did the absolute worst thing and I really wanted to-” Your voice was like honey to his ears, before you dropped the sweet tone and cut yourself off. “Is that Chris?” 

He dropped the phone to his side, smirking as Jill took the BSAA agents out with ease. He could hear your voice still jabbering from the speaker, no doubt confused and nosey about where he was. He ignored you a moment longer, sneering at Chris pinned to the floor beneath Jill as he taunted him. “...I’ll leave you two to catch up.” 

He quickly reactivated the P30 device on Jill, before he turned and entered the elevator, pointedly ignoring Chris’ obnoxious yelling. He finally raised his phone back to his ear, where, no surprise, you were still yapping. 

“-Anyway, that wasn’t really the point, but Greg said he thinks it’s my brake system, but I’m not having a problem with-” 

“It’s not your brakes, I just had those changed in December.” Wesker scowled, annoyed by stupid neighbor Greg’s complete incompetence. You stopped talking, and laughed breathily. “Oh, good you’re listening again. Was that Chris? You didn’t tell me this was an arch nemesis mission, you should’ve told him I said hi!” 

“He is not the point of this ‘mission’, my love. Merely an obstacle I have to kick aside, as usual.” 

You hummed knowingly, odd shuffling and tapping sounds coming though your end of the call. Wesker’s mouth twitched in a smile, you were probably making lunch right about now. 

“Did you fight him? I wish I could’ve seen, I bet you were doing that sexy hand thing agai-” 

“What are you yapping about now?” He growled, face quickly heating up. Only you had ever managed to make him blush like a teenager with your frankly vulgar mouth. 

“What? You know what I’m talking about, the thing where you start bending your fingers like you don’t know how to make a fist- it’s actually kind of cute, but you do something similar every time you’re fingerin-” 

He let out a choked breath, and hung up the call right as he heard your bright laugh. He struggled to will away his red cheeks before the elevator doors opened. God forbid Excella see him like this, he would never hear the end of it from either of you. 

Five

“Hngh- what is it?” 

You’re glaring at the soup aisle shelves when he answers, his voice gruff and raspy from sleep. Your mouth drops open and your eyes widen. Shit, you hadn’t even thought he might finally be asleep. “I’m sorry baby, were you napping? I didn’t mean to wake you up.” 

He groans and the rustling of sheets crackle through the phone like static. “S’fine. What do you want?” 

You can’t blame him for sounding grumpy. You would too, after all, if you had been dragged half-burned-alive covered in black goo from a volcano less than a month ago. “I’m at the grocery store, what soup do you want? I know you usually like the stew but Uro made you sick when you had it the other day so I’m thinking maybe just broth?”

He grumbles, and you think he might actually be mad now. “I told you to quit calling it that, it isn’t a pet, it’s a damn virus.” 

You hum noncommittally. “Well, we’re kind of stuck with it forever, and it really does have a mind of its own. Do you want to try ramen instead? You said you liked the chicken when you had it that one time, but we don’t have to use the powder.” 

He’s silent on the other end, and you frown, calling his name worriedly. He groans and rustles the sheets again. He heaves a great sigh, and mumbles a quick “I want chicken noodle.” 

You smile widely, setting a few cans in the cart, and then grabbing a couple more just in case . He used to eat enough for a football team, and his appetite has slowly been coming back since he’s been home. “Gotcha. I should be home in about an hour, traffic was kind of bad on the way-” 

He’s snoring through the speaker, a deep rumble of air that he would absolutely blush and stammer and scowl about if you mentioned it. You just shake your head fondly and end the call. 

Maybe his stomach would be up for trying something sweet tonight, you’d better get a box of hot chocolate as well. 

Plus One

You’re surprised when your phone rings as you crawl into the hotel bed, the sheets stiff but soft, and also freezing . You’re tempted not to answer it, but you can’t stop yourself. 

“You know we aren’t supposed to see each other before the wedding, Al.” 

He doesn’t talk, but you can hear the wet slide of his hand as he strokes himself. He’s panting, soft puffs of air. “We aren’t seeing each other- ah, we’re on the phone.” 

You smirk, and begin to pass your hand down your chest, feeling the blush heating up your skin. “Wes’... you’re gonna give us bad luck.” 

He groans weakly, the slick sounds picking up. “C’mon, baby, just a few minutes- I won’t even touch you, I just-” he gasps, and you adore the way he sounds utterly broken fucking his own hand. You hum, pretending to consider it for a moment. 

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t think you should finish at all, actually.” You can’t help the teasing lilt of your voice, or the way your stomach drops when he moans again.

“Sweetheart, if you don’t get over here, now-” 

“Goodnight, Albert.” You murmur breathlessly, making sure he hears the wet drag of your fingers between your legs, and at his choked groan you hang up the call. Just a few more hours , you think as you bring yourself over the edge at the memory of his wide, calloused palms. He’ll be mine.

[katerina-marie]

The Tragedy of a Duality

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader and (Past) Ryomen Sukuna x Female Reader

Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3, Chp 4, Chp 5, Chp 6, Chp 7 (Final)

In the present, you are a sorcerer and the cherished wife of the Honored One. In an era long gone, remembered by only one, you were ordinarily human and the beloved bride of the King of Curses. How fitting it would be, in an evening of destruction, to have your heart torn in two.

I stumbled upon this post by @godletmebeanf1wag (thank you for the idea!) a while back and was inspired, so here's my interpretation of it.

I also listened to Speak Up by Pop ETC on repeat while writing this entire thing, so I encourage you to take a listen. I feel like it ties in to parts of the story well :)

Content: JJK Universe and Canon Events (tho tweaked to incorporate reader), Fluff, Angst (the prompt is a spoiler enough), Flashbacks, Ambiguous ending, Violence, Death, Female reader but left descriptively vague, No use of y/n, True Form Sukuna in the past, ****Itadori Yuji is Sukuna's vessel in the present, Innuendos, Allusions to + Vaguely described sex so avoid accordingly. Will add more CW to each chapter if needed. ****Nothing inappropriate will happen between Vessel Itadori/Sukuna and reader in the present because he's obvi a minor and her student. All romance/physical interactions between reader and Sukuna will take place in flashbacks when he's in his true form.****

WC: 3.8k

Chapter 1

Many, Many Years Before Present

There are beams of golden sunlight that stagger through the gaps of deciduous trees, and if you look closely, dust and debris haze them past the point of being diaphanous. In the midst of them, your caravan is paused at the gaping mouth of the woods. Two paths diverge from the worn dirt road in front of you. The one to the left would keep you all deep in the coverage of foliage and darkness. The other leads you to a bustling village that remains unbothered, and you can just faintly hear the noise of it from where it lies below a sloping hill. 

You suspect your presence in this one would produce the same reaction as all the others before it: the bowing of knees, faces full of fright and wonder, and the same hushed whispers of barely concealed unrest that are shared in the shadows. Your choice would be to avoid it altogether, but the decision is not left to you. 

 “Must we?” 

You lift your face up towards your husband, and he is already watching you from the corner of his lower eye. The other stares straight ahead and into the awaiting village, his vision infinitely more capable than your own. He doesn’t answer you right away, but surely he could hear the wariness in your voice. Weeks of traveling through newly acquired lands is never something you would grow fond of. No matter how gilded the tents or plush the bedding, neither would compare when a palace is what you call home, and you are eager to return to it. 

“Sukuna?” 

You tentatively try to garner his attention, to pull his focus off what lies ahead and onto you. You reach out to lay a hand on the arm not concealed by his robes when a sussaration of fabric alerts to you Uraume’s sudden presence in front of you both. The clenching of your teeth sends small bursts of pain through your jaw when you realize that you are going to be outnumbered by your husband’s most trusted advisor. 

They bow quickly and by the time they are upright, Sukuna has nodded his permission and they cross their arms primly into their sleeves. 

“We must proceed through the village. Establishing your authority is paramount in these outer lying areas.” 

When you breathe out a sigh of annoyance, Uraume’s head jerks from Sukuna to you, and though their expression is perfectly impassive, their eyes hold an almost imperceptible hint of disdain. 

“Such majesty demands to be worshiped.”

You do not necessarily disagree, but the idea of parading yourselves in front of people who are less than keen to see you leaves a sense of unease in your stomach, and the unflinching way Uraume keeps hold of your eyes does not abate the sensation. Sukuna would never permit disrespect towards you—not from anyone—but he does not deign to involve himself in child-like skirmishes, and Uraume makes sure to keep your interactions as close to such as possible to go undetected. 

Sukuna answers with a single, elegant nod of his head and you have to hold your tongue to prevent yourself from voicing your contradictory opinion. He would listen to it, consider it even, but you know such conversations were best left to be had out of the public eye. 

“We continue forward,” Sukuna calls out, and his voice carries loud and authoritatively through the trees. Uraume bows again and then disappears as quickly as they appeared, leaving the both of you to continue leading the procession out from the woods. 

“Fret not,” he murmurs, lifting his arm just enough so you could slide your hand into the crook of his elbow. “I assure you all will be well.” 

When you arrive at the outskirts of the village, the entirety of the caravan behind you, people stop in their tracks to gape and stare. Mothers yank their children behind their legs while men’s hands twitch towards whatever part of their body their weapon is tied to. Sukuna sweeps his eyes from side to side, taking in old wood structures and stalls offering various goods, and people duck their heads and fall into bows, unwilling or unable to keep their gaze on the sight before them. 

You suppose it is not the rich, plum-colored fabric of your matching robes as they drag and dance over the ground the two of you walk on, nor is it the lengthy procession behind you. The sheer sight of Sukuna must be what drives these villagers to their knees or draws muttered curses from their lips. 

“A monster,” they hiss under their breath, and if you were anyone else you would agree.

 Sukuna towers above everyone, and the breadth of his shoulders are in of themselves inhuman. If it is not his sheer size, however, it must be the second set of arms that rest just below the first and the extra pair of eyes underneath the others while the right side of his face resembles something akin to disfigurement. Maybe it is even the markings, black and jagged and appearing even in places not displayed currently. He is a beast, in simple terms, vicious as he is cunning, and the villagers would be wise to be wary. 

Most are, from what you can see. They cast down their eyes and swear fealty to an inhuman king, too afraid to do anything that could be considered dissent. The ones that tremble in his shadow and speak blessings to your feet offer no threat to your life, nor Sukuna’s reign. 

But there are those that lurk in shadowed corners and whisper under bated breath to one another. They lower their heads just enough to disguise their contempt, but you feel the heavy cloud of tension and anger amongst those who sow seeds of discontent, and it drives you closer into Sukuna’s side. 

“We should not have come,” you whisper to him from between lips that hardly part in an effort to not displace the expression of serene boredom from your face. Sukuna says nothing, but he slips his lower right arm across your back. “Uraume is wrong. These people are beyond displeased.” 

Nervousness hastens your words and your eyes jump from every darkened alley to each barely concealed scowl that could be spotted in the crowd.  Where allegiance and obedience aren’t found, violence and retribution are surely promised. 

You tug gently on Sukuna’s sleeve. “We must do something to assuage their fears, to bribe them into forgetting their hatred for us,” you insist, and normally you would scale back the desperation in your voice if a tingling at the back of your mind is not convincing you that something is going to go very wrong. You bounce a nail off the pad of your thumb, and the sting of it distracts you.

“We can discuss this back in our tents,” he says back quietly, but his tone, while not angry, brooks no further questioning on the topic. The dismissal stings some, but after nearly three years of marriage, you have learned a thing or two when it comes to swaying the opinions of your husband. 

So you say nothing more and focus on walking forward with a plainly demure smile on your face. When the dirt road begins to spread wide again on the opposite end of the village and gives a glimpse into another section of forest, some of the earlier anxiety slips from your mind. But, something has you turning your head back briefly, and there’s not much to take in from what you had not already: the careful blankness of Uraume’s face from where they trail a couple feet behind you and Sukuna, the mindless shuffling of attendants and servants, and then the gathering crowd at the very back. They watch intently as the procession leaves the village and apprehension swirls in your belly again as you turn forward.

Hours later, in the dark of the night, the makeshift camp is silent as everyone rests from the day’s journey. You and Sukuna are sequestered in a grandiose tent in front of all the others. It is large enough to hold a bed sized for the two of you, a table and chairs in a corner, as well as a cushioned stool and small vanity off to one side that holds what you need to refresh from the day. Strategically placed candles give off a diffused glow to the space and allow your eyes just enough light to do your tasks. 

You turn from your seat at it and clear your throat to catch Sukuna’s attention from where he is sitting across the room from you. Documents are spread out on the table and he scribbles onto a piece of parchment every few minutes. When he looks up and sees the expectant tilt of your brows and the bounce of your leg as it’s crossed over the other, his lips quirk to one side in amusement and he sets down his work to focus on you. 

“You are unhappy with me,” Sukuna remarks. He sits back against the chair he is in and tosses his upper arms along the back of it lazily while the hands of his lower arms twine together in his lap. “Speak.” 

Your response is an undignified snort, and you poke your tongue into your cheek to refrain from snipping at him. On weary legs, you stand from your stool and smooth your nightgown down your knees before padding across the plush carpets draped over the ground to lean against the side of the bed closest to your husband. 

“Not necessarily,” you start, and this time it’s Sukuna’s turn to arch an eyebrow at you. “Maybe a little…perturbed.” 

He sighs and glances around the walls of your tent, and while you know he would hear you out, he is also growing exasperated with the repeated conversation. The two of you walk a delicate balance between the supreme authority Sukuna holds and the wisdom you have to share. You would not dare to undermine it, nor question it in front of anyone should it be perceived as disobedience or weakness on his part. But in the seclusion of your chambers—or your tent as of late—you cautiously advise him with lessons on humanity. 

“I have assured you, there is nothing for you to be worried about.” 

“I understand that,” you say, though you shake your head, “but something has felt wrong today, Sukuna. These villages are not pleased with you taking over rulership of the lands. A revolt would not be unexpected.” 

His expression hardens and he slowly leans forward onto his elbows as he keeps eye contact with you. “You are well aware of what would take place should such a thing happen.” 

Murder. Violence. A complete decimation of anyone who fails to comply with his sovereignty. 

You do not fear your husband, and you are not concerned for your safety in his presence, but it would be a lie for you to say that he does not intimidate you. He is otherworldly, something predatory in nature, and your body, separate from your mind, is all too conscious of how plainly human (prey-like) you are compared to him. The stillness of his body as he observes you and the deep, threatening edge to his voice sends a shiver down your spine and you have to swallow audibly before you can continue. 

“I am aware,” you tell him, and he seems marginally pleased at hearing you admit it. “It’s within your authority and I would not question it.” 

It pains you to say so, if it isn’t entirely true and untrue. You have yet to reconcile the burden of the status you hold as Sukuna’s wife. You lie awake some nights wondering when you might get used to it. Though maybe you never will, and will end your days wishing you could have had just him without all of it. 

“It is just…” you trail off, unable to get the words out of your mouth as something hot wells up behind your eyes and tightens your throat. Sukuna looks mildly alarmed at the emotion on your face and begins to stand, no doubt to come comfort you, but you hold up a palm to him and he freezes. 

“I can empathize with them, Sukuna.” Your voice is a little shaky, but you blink away the moisture on your lashes and straighten your countenance the best you can to appear strong and able in front of him. “I was one of them once, before you found me and chose me. I am human first, yet you were able to gain my trust over time.” 

Sukuna’s features soften and he sits back upright. You have no delusion in thinking that your husband is weak for anything or anyone, but you do suspect that the love he has for you gives glimpses into a shred of humanity that he maybe once had and allows no one to see. 

You smile weakly at him and tangle your fingers into the fabric of your nightgown. “I will not get in the way of what you decide is best, but perhaps we can approach this differently—bring with us provisions and goods or whatever it takes to earn loyalty first before resorting directly to bloodshed. That is all I request.” 

Sukuna is quiet in the wake of what you said, and there is a pensive edge to his face as he considers you. When a minute goes by and he has said nothing, you push off the side of the bed and turn to get into it, feeling both dejected and ignored. Before you can, a large hand catches your shoulder and halts your movement. You look back and Sukuna is standing over you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“This will make you happy?” he asks. 

You nod once, but say nothing, and Sukuna lets out a defeated exhale through his nose. He crosses one set of arms while he reaches towards you with another, and you can do nothing but comply as he spins you around to face him. 

“Very well,” he concedes. You feel a victorious grin twitching the corner of your lips, so you duck your head in mock bashfulness in order to hide it. “I’ll discuss it with Uraume tomorrow.” 

The victory is short lived and your mouth falls into a pout as you snap your head up towards him, and you know that contempt is pinching your features. Sukuna simply laughs and his own smile breaks through the rigidity of his face. 

“Their opinion will not come before yours, do not worry,” he soothes, brushing his hands up and down your shoulders, but your eyes narrow at the teasing tone in his voice. 

“Swear it?” you ask haughtily. You tip your nose into the air and watch as his gaze turns flinty. Sukuna lowers his head closer to yours and the hands on your shoulders drop to your hips to clench the skin there through your nightgown. 

“My word is not enough?” he growls, tightening his hold slightly. You just shrug and offer him a coy flutter of your lashes. Teasing Sukuna isn’t something you take part in regularly, but if a bit of attitude on your part is enough to rile him up, then you’re happy to indulge in your attempt at retribution. 

He must see the mischievousness on your face because he pushes you backwards onto the bed. Your breath leaves you in a hushed oomph and your wrists are being held by your ears at the same time Sukuna is using his lower arms to gather your nightgown in his hands and shove it up your thighs. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, even though you know quite well what is about to happen as Sukuna transfers your wrists into one of his hands to kneel between your knees. His answering smirk is nothing short of wickedly promising, and the gleam in his red eyes has heat curling in your stomach. 

He lowers his head to kiss along your thighs and you just barely hear him murmur into your skin, “such majesty demands to be worshiped.” 

Some time later, when you lie across Sukuna’s chest sated and only half awake, you are faintly aware of a hushed voice calling out for him from the entrance of your tent. The hand in your hair stills and he shifts you to one side of him as he answers back quietly. You nuzzle further into the crook of his arm and somewhere in the back of your consciousness, you recognize the voice as belonging to Uraume. They whisper back and forth to one another before Sukuna is slipping out from under you. You groan out a protest and he places a kiss to your temple as he draws the blankets higher up your back. You nestle under them to search for the remaining body heat he leaves behind, and you are already drifting off into deeper sleep when he promises you that he will return soon. 

The faintest rustling outside your tent is what wakes you first. It is apparent that Sukuna is not in bed with you, and from the dying glow of the candles, you know that some hours have passed and it is well into the middle of the night. You blink fog from your eyes and roll from your side onto your back. His side of the bed is cold, and while the blankets have kept you warm enough, the soft breeze from the small vents in the tent chill your skin. With another roll, you reach down on the other side of the bed and pick up your discarded nightgown off the floor. 

You’ve just pulled the fabric over your head and settled it down your body when another scuff of something pricks your ears. You go still and squint in an attempt to peer a bit better into the darkness of your tent. When a moment goes by and no other sound is heard, you sit up against your pillows and consider what it might be. 

Sukuna would never leave you unguarded, nor would he venture too far without taking you with him for the sake of your protection. Yet, goosebumps still erupt over your skin and icy nervousness begins to prickle at the back of your mind. The tent itself looks the same as it did from earlier. Sukuna’s robes lay scattered on the floor and some wayward pillows have ended up at the foot of the bed. Nothing else is displaced and the flaps of your tent remain tied shut. 

The idea of calling out for a guard crosses your mind and you swing your feet over the edge of the bed when a glint of steel from a dark corner captures your attention. You can just barely see a shadow slink towards you as you inhale a great breath, intent on letting out a cry. Terror floods your mind and body, and for a moment, your muscles lock in place. When it’s too late, you try to frantically crawl backwards away from the moving figure. Your last thought is to wonder if Sukuna is near enough to hear the snick of a blade being drawn and the beginning of your scream before it’s cruelly cut off. 

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

Three Years Before Present

An hour or two outside the city, there is an inn that sits nestled on the edges of a quiet forest. Evening has brought reprieve from the summer sun, but along with it, a humid rain shower dampens the earth and muffles the sound of joyful laughter and a jazzy piano drifting out from inside the dining lounge of the inn. Just beyond, stringed lights that glow golden are strewn between a cluster of fruit trees, and surrounding them are a modest grouping of white wooden chairs with flowers draping along their backs. A couple hours before, when the rain hadn’t yet come and the early sunset broke through the trees, your closest friends and peers gathered in those chairs to watch you exchange vows with the man who’s chest you now lean against. 

“It’s peaceful, isn’t it?” 

Your voice is hushed, but you angle your head back and it knocks gently against Satoru’s shoulder. He hums in response and you feel it where his cheek is pressed into your temple. His arms are bracketed around the tops of yours and cross over your chest. The delicate train of your dress is looped over his forearm to keep it off the damp patio, and the white of it is a stark contrast against the black of his tux. 

Just behind the two of you, cheers sound through from inside as a cork is popped, and you giggle at the celebratory noise of your friends. Dinner has come and gone, cake has already been served, and now that drinks flowed, mingling and dancing took over the rest of the evening. When your cheeks had flushed warm and Satoru’s tinted pink, you had covertly pulled your new husband by the wrist out a backdoor to find solace in the dark of the night and the relative quiet of outside. Now, as the two of you look out over the very spot where you traded rings just some time ago, the solitude is a welcomed opportunity to bask in the entirety of it. 

“It really is,” Satoru murmurs. The breath of his words skitter over the shell of your ear, and he squeezes you tighter to his chest when you shiver. “I’m sorry it started to rain, though.” 

You release a content sigh and snuggle in deeper to the warmth of his arms. When you turn your head up towards him, Satoru answers you with a kiss, and the heady rush that comes from feeling his lips against yours makes you wish it was time for the two of you to hurry away for your own night of celebration. But, there is still merriment to be had and people waiting to share their congratulations, so you break away from Satoru when the air in your lungs is no more and the adoring smile on his face certainly matches yours. 

“Don’t be,” you whisper, and he cocks his head curiously. 

The smell of rain and the sound it makes when it hits the roof of the inn or bounces off the leaves of the trees is something you find pleasant. You’ve always enjoyed the rain, and now is no exception, no matter if it forces your reception inside and mists your skin. 

“I’m not bothered by it,” you assure him, and Satoru seems appeased. You take another moment of quiet to glance back out at the hazy glow of the lights and inhale the crispness of the air before the two of you need to return to the party that’s going on inside for the both of you. 

“Besides,” you add, squeezing Satoru’s hand, and the cool metal of his wedding ring makes the skin of your palm tingle. “Haven’t you heard? Rain on your wedding day is a sign of good luck.” 

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

If you take the time to read this, thank you very much! Most of this fic is written, so it shouldn't take too long for the rest of it come out once it's edited.

Also on Ao3.

I'm happy to tag anyone who is interested in the following chapters.

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 39: Returning

Your family comes back to Jackson. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-38 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut. Aftermath of canon-typical violence, including graphic depiction of injury. Mention of past sexual assault, not described. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 10k

A/N: We are through the spoiler-y portion now and you're all OK to read from here if you just want to see how the fic starts to come to a close. There is no more overlap with TLOU 2.

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next chapter

May, 2017 

“Mama!” 

Savvy’s voice was shrill, panicked. That scared you more than getting thrown off a horse had and your head shot up to make sure nothing had happened to her in the few seconds you’d been flying through the air and getting your bearings after hitting the ground with a thud. 

But your daughter was fine, just watching you from her place on the other side of the fence posts as you worked to break the feral horse you’d taken just a few weeks earlier. She was at the hardest stage now, the part where you had to be on her back but she didn’t want you there. She was used to a saddle, used to pressure guiding her. She was even used to you. She just wasn’t used to giving up the last wild parts of her, even though you were offering her a life that was better for her, one with care and shelter and protection from what would kill her in the wild. 

“Are you OK?” Savvy asked, her eyes wide. You should have anticipated this. She’d never seen you get thrown off a horse before, of course it would scare her. She looked like she was about to climb the fence to come check on you, her little hands bracing on the wood post. 

“I’m alright, baby girl,” you said quickly, holding your palm out to stop her. “You stay right there, OK?” 

She nodded but frowned, her little eyebrows drawing together as she watched you get back to your feet, the book you’d told her to read so you could keep an eye on her while you worked discarded in the dirt. 

You groaned a little as you shook the tension from your limbs, cracking your neck as you did before going for the horse again. 

“Mama!” Savvy yelled again, stopping you in your tracks. You looked back at her, frowning. “Mama, no! You’re going to get hurt, you can’t go on her again, she’s scary and…” 

“Oh, baby,” you said, going and kneeling in front of her, brushing her curls back from her small face. “I have to.” 

She frowned. 

“Why?” 

You smiled at her, at the concern in her warm, brown eyes.

“Because, when you get thrown - when something gets hard - you don’t give up,” you said. “When you give up, you lose so much that you’ve already worked so hard for. It can be hard and it can be scary, but if I gave up on her now, I’m letting her down, too. When you get thrown, you have to get back up. Even when it’s hard, even when it’s scary, you get back on the horse. If you get back on the horse, it’ll be OK. Understand?” 

She watched you for a moment before giving you a firm nod. You smiled and kissed her forehead before steeling yourself and getting back on the horse.

May, 2028 

The way you rode with Joel wasn’t comfortable but you didn’t care. You needed to be close to him. 

You sat side saddle, more on his lap than anything else, precariously balanced and nestled in his arms but it was where you had to be. You pressed your face into his neck and breathed him in and even though he smelled mostly of sweat and horse it was a comfort. You closed your eyes and tried not to listen to anything, just the sound of his breathing. 

He didn’t say much, only occasionally pressing his face into your head and kissing you there and whispering you’re OK, I’ve got you every few minutes. You weren’t sure if it was for him or for you. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been riding but it had been dark for what seemed like a long time when you stopped for the night. 

“C’mon Bambi,” Tommy said gently as he helped you down. His touch still made you flinch. “It’s OK. Just me, not going to hurt you.” 

He half caught you as you more fell off the horse than dismounted and you realized just how uncomfortable your position had been as your body realigned. It just didn’t hurt as much as so many parts of you so it didn’t bother you as you rode. Joel’s hands were on you again almost immediately, pulling you against him. 

“Careful,” Joel said, guiding you to a large tree to sit in the cradle of its roots. He lowered you gently to the ground before he knelt in front of you, carefully pulling your shirt back enough to see the knife wound from Mitchum’s guard on your arm. He spent a few minutes carefully patching you up, cleaning the cut and bandaging it. You kept your injured hand tight against yourself, like you could somehow hide from Joel just how broken you were. 

When he was done, he brushed your hair back before cupping your cheek, his gaze deep and almost sad.

“I’m gonna go help Tommy set the perimeter…” 

Your eyes went wide at that, the thought of him being where you couldn’t see or feel him sending a thrill of panic up your spine. 

“Just for a few minutes,” he said, voice soothing and gentle. “Girls will be with you the whole time. You’re OK, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” 

You nodded and he pressed his lips to your forehead, lingering there before he pulled away from you. You closed your eyes and pressed yourself back against the tree, needing to have something at your back so you knew nothing could come and take you when you couldn’t see them coming. 

“Mom?” Savvy said quietly. You opened your eyes and found her standing beside you in the dark. “Can I… is it OK if I sit with you?” 

“Of course,” you said, your voice sounding and feeling oddly foreign to you, and you watched as she slowly, cautiously lowered herself down beside you. You kept your left hand clutched to your chest but held your right arm out and she gingerly fit herself against you there, nuzzling into your shoulder. You kissed the crown of her head, her curls tickling your nose and you gave her a squeeze before trailing your fingers gently through her hair. 

“Are you OK?” You asked quietly. She nodded but took a deep, shuddering breath. You relished that for a moment, that you could feel that she was alive an that she wanted to be close to you. “You can talk to me, it’s OK.” 

“I was so afraid,” she said, her voice wet. “I thought I’d never see you again and I never had the chance… You never told me about them and what… what they did.” 

“I know,” you said, continuing to hold her. 

“Why?” She asked. “I was so mad at you but it wasn’t your fault and you could have just told me and I would have understood, I would have known and I wouldn’t have been so… so…” 

Her voice trailed off and you pressed your lips to the crown of her head again, breathing in the smell of her, trying to put words to it. 

“You’re my baby,” you said eventually. “I want to protect you from everything. That’s my job, it’s the most important job I’ve ever had. I didn’t protect you then…” 

“Mom,” she said, sitting up from you a little to look you in the eye in the moonlight, like she was getting ready to fight you on it. 

“I didn’t,” you said. “I wish I could have but I wasn’t able to for a very long time. Keeping you from knowing about that stuff… I could protect you that way. I didn’t want that in your head. I still don’t.” 

She watched you for a moment before she deflated before you.

“I know you tried,” she said weakly. “I remember, the night they came… I heard the gunshots, I know you tried. I was so afraid then, too. I thought they killed you, I thought…” 

“I know,” you said softly. “And I’m sorry.” 

“I’m really sorry,” she said, tucking herself against you again. You could feel her tears dampening the cotton of your shirt. “I shouldn’t have been so mad at you, I’m so mad at myself now because I… I was just so angry because I didn’t understand and…” 

“It’s OK,” you soothed her. “Don’t be mad at yourself baby girl, please don’t. You went through so much, you survived so much all on your own that you never should have gone through. Of course you were mad, it’s right to be angry when something hurts you like that…” 

“But you didn’t hurt me,” she said, holding you tighter. “You didn’t just leave me. And I should have known that you would never have done that. I should never have been angry with you.” 

“It’s OK,” you said again. “We’ve found each other now, that’s all that matters, right?” 

“Yeah,” she nodded into you. “I love you, Mom.” 

You held her a little closer. 

“I love you, too,” you whispered. “So, so much.” 

After a few minutes, Ellie joined you, too. She didn’t seem to want to talk, something you were thankful for because you weren’t sure how well you’d hold it together. The conversation with Savvy had taken so much out of you. You needed to take care of them both, look out for them, help them through their pain and their fear but you barely had it in you to do it. It was like everything inside yourself was dedicated to keeping yourself alive and in one piece - as much as you could since they’d already cut pieces of you away. You didn’t have anything left in you to do anything else. 

Instead of asking for your words, Ellie sat silently on your left side and you cautiously, hesitantly, put your arm around her, your injured hand coming to rest against her. She put her head on your shoulder and you kissed her there before resting your cheek against her and closing your eyes. You tried to focus on the two of them, that you could feel that they were alive and that they were safe, knowing it with real certainty for the first time since Kyle had shown up at your door what felt like an eternity ago. 

When the men got back, Tommy volunteered to keep watch all night and Joel tried to protest but Tommy silenced him quickly. 

“You ain’t slept in days,” he said sharply. “Stay with your wife. I’ve got it.” 

You frowned as Joel set out his sleeping bag and helped you into it before joining you there, set a little away from where Ellie and Savvy were so there was a semblance of privacy. 

“You’re alright,” Joel said, so softly you weren’t sure that he’d even intended the words for you. “I’ve got you.” 

“You haven’t slept?” You asked quietly. You kept your injured hand between your bodies, tight against your chest while Joel’s arms were around you, the one below you tucked under your head so you could use him as a pillow, the other cradling your body against his. 

“Couldn’t,” he said, his lips brushing your forehead. “Not without you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said, tears pinching tight in your throat. You hated that this had hurt him, too. 

“No,” he whispered. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault, sweetheart. You saved them, I would have done the same thing.” 

He held you so close and you felt him breathe, felt the subtle rattle inside of him and you knew he was crying. You wished you had it in you to soothe him and take care of him the way he was taking care of you but you couldn’t take any other pain into yourself. Instead, you cried, too, until you fell asleep in your husband’s arms. 

The next morning, you jerked awake, heart racing but you couldn’t remember why. It took you a moment to realize where you were, that you were safe and that Savvy and Ellie were safe, too. Your whole body was tense, a bowstring drawn too tight and ready to snap. 

“You’re OK,” Joel’s hand was tracing a delicate path over your spine and your face was buried in his throat. His voice was so quiet, the coo of a morning dove trees away was louder. “Never let anyone hurt you again, you’re safe.” 

You took a deep, shaky breath and he kissed the crown of your head and just held you until you felt like you could move. 

When Tommy and the girls took the horses to a nearby stream to drink and to fill up canteens before leaving camp, it left you and Joel alone - truly alone - for the first time. You were nestled into his chest as he leaned back against a tree, both of his hands on you, always touching you. 

“You can talk to me,” he said. “Don’t want you feeling like you need to protect me from any of it. I’m here for you, sweetheart. Whatever you need, it’s yours.” You swallowed hard but nodded into him. “Can I ask you for something?” 

You frowned but you didn’t stop him. He took a deep breath. 

“Can I see your hand?” He asked. You froze against him, not even breathing. He gave you a little squeeze. “I just want to see if it’s healing, baby.” 

You held it a little tighter to yourself. 

“You know?” You asked quietly. There was something that felt so wrong about Joel knowing that another man had cut part of you away for himself.

He gave you another small squeeze. 

“Made Cody pay for it,” he said. “Made ‘em pay for fuckin’ all of it.” 

You took a deep breath and sat back from him, just enough to unwind the makeshift bandage from around your hand. When it was just loose fabric over your wound, you took a shaky breath and looked at Joel. He was watching you closely, one hand gently cupping your elbow, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles over you there. You could tell he was trying to keep from showing much emotion, his face flat, but the way he was looking at you still told you everything. He was hurting, so much pain behind his eyes that it was hard not to drown in it. You tried not to think about how afraid he must have been, coming back to Jackson and finding his entire family gone from the one place left on Earth that was supposed to be safe. He’d reached you but you had to carry this with you now, for the rest of your life. Evidence of just how cruel this world was right on your hand, a constant reminder of what was waiting just outside the walls. 

“It’s OK,” he said gently and you took a deep breath before pulling the fabric back from your hand. You watched Joel’s face as you did, watched him fight to not flinch at the mangled flesh that was your hand. He took your palm gingerly in his large hands and you finally looked down at your remaining fingers, watching as Joel carefully examined you. He brushed his thumb on your palm below where the pieces of you had been cut away. 

“They burned it,” you said after a moment. “Stopped the bleeding.” 

“It’ll be OK,” he nodded and you fought to swallow around the knot that had tightened in your throat. 

“He took my wedding ring,” you said softly, feeling the tear you’d been struggling to hold back slip down your cheek anyway. 

“No,” Joel shook his head, setting your hand gently on your leg, palm up before reaching into his pocket. He pulled your ring out, still dark sticky with blood but it was yours. “I took it back. Don’t need to decide what you want to do with it now but I have it, I’ll keep it safe for you. He didn’t get to take that.” 

You looked at it for a moment, nodding slowly. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. 

Joel tied your bandage around your hand again, finishing just as the other three returned with the horses and the water. 

You rode with Joel again, not feeling entirely conscious or even inside your body as you did. You still kept your left hand held close to your chest. Sometimes, you were keenly aware of the movement of the horse below you. Sometimes, you heard birds singing and frogs croaking and Ellie whispering to Savvy. Sometimes, you didn’t feel or see or hear or smell anything at all, just floating in space and time where nothing could take anything more from you. 

It was during one of those times where you were existing with nothing at all that you made it back to Jackson, Joel gently pulling you back to the present by pressing a kiss to your temple and talking low and gentle in your ear. 

The walls of the town were on the horizon and you stiffened. Even with damn near half the town back at Mitchum’s camp after the fight, you knew there would be people, people who would see you like this and know what had been done to you. 

“Just gonna get you to the doctor,” he said, sensing your discomfort. “Then we’ll get you home. It’s OK.” 

“Can we just go home, Joel?” You asked, burying your face in his neck. You knew you should be stronger than this. You knew you didn’t have anywhere inside yourself to find that strength. “Please, just take me home, I want to go home.”  

He held you a little tighter, the gates casting a shadow as they opened. 

“OK sweetheart,” he said. “I’ll take you home.” 

Joel guided the horse to your house, Tommy following close behind. You could feel eyes on you but you didn’t look up from your place tucked against Joel’s skin. Your brother in law helped you off the horse and helped you stay upright until your husband could tuck you against his side and return you to the place you felt safe. 

One Week Later 

You rarely left your bedroom. 

After Carol came by the house and examined you and Joel gently bathed you, washing you clean of everything that had happened, you’d only really left your room to use the bathroom. The curtains were drawn, the air was stale, you were coated in a layer of old sweat and you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

At first, Joel rarely left your side. It was two days before you were without him even for a minute. He even went with you to the bathroom, his hand on your back on the walk down the hall and hovering just outside the door before walking you back to bed again. You mostly just laid on his chest, feeling him breathe, waiting for something - anything - to pull you away. You felt it coming, some amorphous thing hanging on the edge of your consciousness. Nowhere was safe. Not even Jackson. This was proven now. Something would find you, something would take everything that mattered away. It was always coming, it had been for more than 20 years, grasping for you in the form of your infected boyfriend or the man who didn’t want to take a no or the unseen death of your daughter’s father or those who took and took and took until there was nothing left. How could you be expected to live like that? Fighting and scratching an existence for yourself only to have it ripped away again and again and again. 

Staying in bed was safer. There was less to lose then. 

The third day, Joel left for a little while. You weren’t entirely sure where, but you were only alone for a few minutes, Ellie and Savvy coming to sit with you. You just held onto them and hoped that, whatever eventually came for you would spare them instead of using them as they had been before. 

Nothing did. 

Other people came by after that, too. Just to the house, Joel stopped them in the living room, seeming to understand that you couldn’t bear being seen this way. You heard them, occasionally, from your place in the bed. Their voices would filter upstairs and so would Joel’s replies. Tommy and Maria wanted to see how everyone was doing. Olivia gave updates on the stables and asked after you. Warren came by to tell Joel the final tally of the fight with Mitchum and how so much of the trouble that had cropped up for patrols over the last few years could be blamed on his fight for power. Even Julie visited, carrying a basket of snacks with her. Joel tried to get you to eat some. You managed a few berries before curling up again. 

You knew this had to be wearing on Joel. He weathered you waking up in a panic and fighting him before you remembered where you were and who you were with. He didn’t pressure you to leave the bedroom, instead bringing food and water and tea to you. He tried to get you to read but you weren’t interested so he read to you, instead. You didn’t process much of what he said but the sound of his voice was comforting and you would curl up against him as he read, drifting in and out of consciousness as he stroked your hair or ran his hand from your shoulder to your elbow and back again. 

The only thing that told you it had been a week that you’d been back was Carol. She came in your room with a gentle smile and asked to take your bandages off to check how you were healing. You kept your good hand in Joel’s the entire time, squeezing him tight because anyone but him or the girls being that close to you made you want to crawl out of your skin. 

“This is coming along well,” she said as she looked at your hand. “Really. You’ve come a long way in just a week. You will move past this and you will be OK.” 

You weren’t sure you could say anything so you didn’t try and you heard her giving Joel some care instructions in the hall before she left. You stared at the wall. 

“Hey,” Joel said when he came back in and sat on the edge of the bed. You curled your legs into your chest and watched him. He reached out and ran one large palm over your head. “How about a shower? Doc said should be easier now…” 

You watched him for a moment, worry in his eyes. He’d been with you like this for a week now. That was a long time for someone like Joel who liked to be moving and feeling like he was accomplishing something. It was unnatural for him to be here, stagnant like this with you. You knew how this must be hurting him, how his life would be better without needing to deal with this. 

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you knew you needed to say. 

“I know this isn’t what you signed up for,” you looped your arms around your knees and pulling them tighter to yourself. “You don’t have to stay with me like this.” 

“Baby…” 

“I can move back to my old house,” you said, ignoring the tightness in your throat and chest as you said it, like the thought of being away from him was going to strangle you dead. “I think it’s still empty, you don’t need…” 

“No,” he cut you off, sharp and firm. 

“I know this isn’t what you want…” 

“The hell it’s not,” he snapped. He moved fully onto the bed, taking your face in his hands so firmly it almost hurt, his fingertips sinking into your skin. You took a deep, shaky breath and closed your eyes but he didn’t seem to be having that, either. “No, you look at me, goddammit, not letting you hide from this, you hear me?” 

You forced your eyes open, trying not to grimace as you looked at your husband, the man you wanted to be next to forever but couldn’t bear to keep dragging down like this. 

“You think I want you to leave?” He asked, brows raised so high they almost disappeared into his hair. “That I want you anywhere but next to me?” 

“Joel…” 

“I promised to love you and protect you,” he said. “You think that stops just because shit gets hard? You think I’m just going to let you go because somethin’ awful happened to you? I don’t care if I need to stay with you through this for another week or a year or a fuckin’ lifetime, I’m staying right fucking here. I love you, more than I ever thought I could love someone else and that don’t stop just because you need time!” 

“I don’t want to hurt you anymore!” You almost yelled it. “Please, I don’t want to drag you down with me, I can’t let you get dragged down with me, the girls need you and…” 

“They need you, too,” he cut you off. “And you’re not draggin’ me anywhere. You go, I go. That’s how this works, you and me. You hear me? Now, if… if you need to be away from me because of shit I’ve done -“ 

“No,” you shook your head as best you could in his grip but he continued on like you hadn’t spoken at all. 

“-then we’ll figure that out but we’ll do that together, not with you leaving because you think it’s what’s best for me, you understand me? I love you. I’m sticking by you. That ain’t changing.” 

You closed your eyes and Joel’s hold on you loosened, his hands moving from your face to your shoulders, his thumbs moving in soothing circles over your collarbone. 

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he said, the forcefulness gone now, just the quiet care left in his voice. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You’ll feel better.” 

He guided you to the bathroom and undressed you delicately as the water warmed up. He took off his socks but left on his jeans and t-shirt as he got in the shower with you. 

“Joel,” you whispered, your arms crossed over your chest as best you could. 

“It’s you and me,” he said. “We’re figuring this out together.” 

His hands moved over you slowly, firmly, cleaning your skin and your hair and working knots out of aching muscle. His clothes were dripping. He didn’t seem to notice. 

Another week later 

Joel had started going back to work. 

You’d insisted on it. You couldn’t keep him cooped up with you like this forever, you couldn’t bear to watch him slowly lose himself no matter how much he pretended like it was OK. 

He’d been reluctant, of course, and he wasn’t going on patrol or anything that took him away from the house for more than a few hours but you could tell that he was feeling better, now that he was pitching in around town again. 

Joel told you about some of what he did when he got back. He fixed the roof on a family’s house one day and told you about how the four-year-old boy there had showed him all his Matchbox cars before he left. Another day, Joel worked with Tommy to start figuring out good ways to expand the school as it was getting cramped, planning to bring their ideas to the council to decide how to move forward. Another, he told you about going to help Olivia at the stables and how people said they missed you and sent their best. 

The next day was when he came back with the kitten. 

“Brought you somethin’,” he said as he e came into your bedroom with it wriggling in his hold - the creature so small and his hand so large that it just fit in his palm. He set it on the bed next to you and you just gaped at it. 

“What…” 

“Couldn’t just leave it,” he shrugged. “It’s too new to survive on its own but it was all by itself. Figured, anyone here knows animals, it’s you. Thought it could use a mother.”

He’d apparently left the city walls for a few hours that day to test someone new on shooting for patrol. That’s when they found the kitten, snarling and ferocious, all alone near the shooting range. It was a little thing, black and white and fluffy with a tail that stuck straight up. Joel had scooped it up and tucked it inside a saddle bag before bribing it with some milk and chicken back in town. That had mellowed it some, its affection apparently easily bought as it ambled around the bed, pouncing at unseen prey and climbing on your legs. You smiled a little, watching it. 

“What are we supposed to do with a cat?” You asked, only glancing at Joel as you watched the kitten romp around. 

“Weren’t you sayin’ you were worried about mice in the barn?” He said. “Figured he can pitch in around here as much as anyone else. Earn his keep.” 

You laughed once, lightly, at that. The cat, paying rent in town with his presumed hunting skills. 

“Think you can raise ‘em up alright?” Joel asked. 

You reached out and ran a finger down his little back. He arched into your touch and you couldn’t help but smile a little. 

“I think so,” you said, even though you weren’t really sure that was true. 

But he did make you leave your room the next day. 

The kitten - who you decided to name Orion in hopes he lived up to his namesake in hunting skills - wanted to explore and you wanted to let him. You got out of bed to let him out of your room but it felt wrong, letting him go out there without someone watching him. This place was big and new and dangerous for him. He needed help. You didn’t go far, only making to the living room, but it felt like a different world to you, too. You sat on the couch, tucked as far back into the corner as you could go so you could feel things around you. It was the only way to be secure, knowing what was there. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there when you watched Joel come up the front walk, jogging up the steps and unlocking the front door. He nearly jumped when he saw you there, sitting on the couch with your arms around your legs, the cat patting at the bottom of the curtain at the window. 

“Baby,” he said quickly, almost running for you before sitting next to you, tilting your face in his hand, examining you. “You alright? You hurt?” 

You frowned at him, his eyes still ranging over you. 

“I’m fine,” you said. “We just… wanted a change of scenery.” 

He nodded slowly, watching you cautiously. 

“And how we feelin’ about all that?” 

You considered that for a moment. 

“Alright, I think,” you said. “Better, with you here.” 

His lips tugged up ever so slightly at the edges. 

“Good,” he said. “That’s good.” 

He put a movie on for the two of you and, for a bit, you felt almost normal with him there beside you, tucked against his side as you watched things play out on screen. You felt secure enough that you started to doze off there, somehow exhausted even though all you’d done that day was come downstairs and sit on a couch. 

“C’mon sweetheart,” Joel said, giving you a squeeze as credits played. “Let’s get you upstairs.” 

It was something like waking up then. There were things happening around you that you realized had been happening for a while, you just hadn’t fully noticed. Joel helped you get get settled but didn’t get undressed himself. Instead, he got his pajamas from where they were folded on a chair in the corner and went to the bathroom, changing there. You frowned as he got into bed next to you and you pressed yourself against him, breathing in the warm, comforting smell of him. 

“Have you been doing that?” You asked quietly as he trailed his fingers up and down your spine. 

“Doin’ what?” He asked. You could hear the frown on his voice. 

“Getting ready for bed in another room,” you said. “I can’t remember from the last few days and…” 

You trailed off and he was quiet for a moment before he answered. 

“Yeah. Seemed… seemed smart.” 

Your frown deepened. 

“Why?” 

He sighed heavily, holding you a little tighter. 

“I don’t want to do anything that might hurt you or scare you,” he said slowly. “I dunno what they did to you - and you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to - but… I know enough of what they did before and you wake up afraid a lot. Figure… well, last thing you might need is seeing an undressed man so I’ve just been making sure you don’t. S’OK. I don’t mind.” 

Your throat got tight and you nuzzled closer to him, suddenly missing his skin so much it hurt. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” you said quietly, your voice thick. 

“It’s OK if you are,” he replied. “Just don’t want to be something that hurts you.” 

“You’re not,” you said. “I… I feel safe with you.” 

He slowly, hesitantly pressed his lips to the top of your head. 

“Good.” 

You were silent for a minute and you could feel his body start to relax against you and you knew you should just let him rest but now that you realized it had been weeks since you’d last really felt his skin, you couldn’t think about anything else. 

“Joel?” You said eventually. 

“Hm.” 

“Can…” You took a deep breath. “Can you take your shirt off?” 

He pulled back from you, frowning slightly. 

“I just…” you watched him closely. “I miss being able to touch you.” 

“Sure, baby,” he said. “If that’s what you really want.” 

You just nodded and he sat up enough to tug his shirt over his head before settling beside you, letting you decide how close you wanted to be. You pressed yourself against him, burying your face in his chest and breathing deep, not realizing just how much you’d missed this until that moment. 

“I love you, Joel,” you said quietly, pressing a kiss to his skin. 

He took a shaky breath. 

“I love you too, Bambi.” 

You tried to leave your room every day after that, at least for a little while. You made yourself tea in the kitchen and gave Orion a treat or watched something on TV in the living room. Ellie and Savvy came by and played cards one afternoon, both of them completely charmed by the way the cat would rear back on his hind legs to try to catch a string. You made it as far as the front porch once but you only lasted a few minutes there, the space too open to feel safe. 

One day, you decided to go and spend time in the room you’d set up for Savvy, sitting cross-legged on the bed and looking around at how Joel had helped you put it together. You were just thinking about how to ask if she wanted to come spend the night at least when you heard the front door open. 

“Sorry,” Joel said. “She’s got good days and bad. This may be a bad day if she’s still in our room…” 

“Do you think she’d be up for talking about it?” Olivia’s voice was distinctive, even from the floor above. “Because it’s been weeks…” 

“Know how long it’s been,” Joel said, his voice sharp. “Not about to jeopardize her health because…” 

“The whole town relies on us and those horses,” Olivia cut him off, heated too. “I understand that she’s going through something and I don’t want to make it worse. She’s my friend and I care about her. But I need to know whether or not she’s coming back anytime soon because the horses she was working with before this happened? They’re backsliding. If I need to take over, fine, I’ll do my best but it won’t be what she can do and I don’t want to do it without talking with her and…” 

“Another day,” Joel said. “I know what’s at stake but I am not putting her at risk. It ain’t worth it.” 

They were quiet for a moment and then Olivia sighed. 

“Fine,” she said. “But it has to be soon. They can’t just stay wild like this here, it’s not good for them. There’s only so much longer they can go on like this.” 

You heard her leave and then Joel’s heavy sigh before walking - his limp apparent even from a floor away - to the kitchen. You took advantage of the sound of the running water to slip back into your bedroom, pressing yourself back against the headboard and closing your eyes for a moment. 

Olivia was right. You knew the horses you’d been just starting to break would be in rough shape now. The longer you let them go, the harder it would be to get them back and it was dangerous to let them go too long in captivity without training. They could hurt themselves in the stall, hurt another horse, hurt someone trying to care for them. You couldn’t afford to let them go, the town needed them. Something had to give. 

Joel didn’t mention Olivia when he came upstairs only a few minutes later. He brought you tea and toast with jam and you ate some of it, staring at your hand with the missing fingers as you used the ones that remained to hold the bread. Joel just sat next to you in bed, reading silently and absently stroking Orion and watching you out of the corner of his eye like he was afraid of what you might do if he wasn’t watching. Because, apparently, now you needed supervision to eat fucking toast.

He tried to coax you down to watch a movie that evening but you couldn’t bring yourself to leave the bed, your mind lingering on his conversation with Olivia, on all the things you were failing by still being here, like this. It was like you were still trapped there, still chained to that fucking wall, still waiting for the thing that was going to rip you apart. 

Joel held you as you tried to fall asleep - even though you weren’t sure you deserved it - and you knew it was going to be a rough night before it even began. 

You were right. You dreamed about Cody taking your daughters from where they were supposed to be safe and searching for them in the woods, desperate to reach them, ready to give every piece of yourself away in exchange but still not finding them. You dreamed about Mitchum and how he liked to hurt you, how his body felt like the weight of the world was suffocating you when he was on top of you. You dreamed of being trapped and caged and finding the only person left on the other side of the bars was yourself, standing there, holding the keys and watching, waiting. For what, you didn’t know. 

“Sweetheart!” Joel’s voice snapped you out of your head and, suddenly, you were back in his arms. The room was quiet and still and smelled like him and he was there, his eyes searching yours as he clutched you close. “Hey, it’s alright. We’re OK, I’ve got you. It’s just me, you and me, you’re safe. We’re all OK.” 

He ran his large palm over your head over and over, his eyes locked on yours, saying the words over and over and they were nothing new. They were things Joel had said probably every day since you’d been back, things he told you when he could feel you tense or when you panicked in your sleep. It was a familiar mantra, something you clung to when so much of the rest of the world seemed to be swallowed by chaos and cruelty. 

But this time, the settled in you differently. We’re OK. It’s just me, you and me. 

This thing you’d survived hadn’t just happened to you, not really. Yes, you’d been the one to willingly hand yourself over to monsters and you’d been the one to suffer what they wrought but it was Joel who came back from patrol to find his entire family gone. It was Joel who had searched for you, frantic and terrified, for days. It was Joel who had shepherded your daughters through your disappearance as they tried to shove their guilt away with vengeance. It was Joel who took the closest thing you’d get to justice from your tormentors. And after it all, he’d stood there, in the middle of this tempest, holding you through it, keeping your head above water. When everything threatened to pull you under, he was there. You weren’t alone. Not in this, not in anything. Not anymore. 

“Joel,” you whispered, reaching your hand up and trailing your fingers through his graying curls, his hair brushing against the scar tissue where your wedding band had once rested. 

“Hey baby,” he whispered back, the barest hint of a smile on his lips, his gaze less panicked. “You feeling OK? Want me to bring you anything? I can make you tea…” 

“No,” you said softly, still trailing your fingers through his hair. There’s a tightness in your stomach, one that was so foreign now but still so familiar when you were next to Joel. “That’s not what I want.” 

He watched you, his eyebrows drawing together ever so slightly and you could see just how restrained he was. You’d known Joel a long time, you knew how the whole of his body moved when in pleasure or pain, in certainty or confusion, even the fine muscles of his face - especially those - and he was holding back. He was protecting you, always protecting you, even now, even from himself. 

You didn’t want him to. 

“What do you need?” He asked gently, his hand going from your hair to your face, his thumb pressed below your cheekbone. 

You didn’t say anything. Instead, you watched him closely in the dark, keenly aware of how his body was in alignment with yours, how his leg had hooked over yours to tame your thrashing, how he held you close even though you knew you’d shoved him away so many times in your sleep. You moved closer to him slowly, your eyes staying locked on his as you hesitantly, delicately, kissed your husband for the first time in weeks. 

*** 

Joel had to fight to not moan at the feel of your lips on his. But they were soft and plush, giving to the press of his mouth, your body more relaxed than he’d felt in so long. 

He stopped himself, though. 

He couldn’t do this, not now, not with you like this. 

It had been weeks that you’d been back but, in so many ways, it was like you were still gone. You were so far away from him, so often just staring into space and sitting in silence. You didn’t seem to have any interest in listening to music or reading. The only thing that seemed to pry you out of that dark space within yourself was the cat - which he’d brought you out of sheer desperation - and the girls, but he wasn’t sure how genuine that was, if you were doing it because you wanted to or because you felt like you had to to take care of them. 

When you started leaving the bedroom, he’d had hope. He’d thought that, maybe, things were getting better. That you were willing to see beyond the boundaries of those four walls and into a future that was better, one where you were yourself again. And then you stalled out there, only occasionally going on the front porch the two of you had spent so much time together on, back in the days you were afraid to be inside his home. Now, you were afraid to leave it. 

Part of him wondered if this was what it was like when you first came to Jackson. If you’d spent weeks alone, locked inside your house and plagued by nightmares and memories that may as well have been nightmares, too. His heart ached for you if it that was case but he almost hoped it was. If this was just part of what it was like for you to survive, that he could count on you to return to him again once you got through this, then he’d get you back. You’d get through this and you’d be OK again.  

But the longer you stayed there, trapped inside yourself, the more his hope dwindled.

It didn’t help that everything was tinged with the acute knowledge that he’d failed you. That you’d been hurt because he hadn’t reached you in time, that you’d been left to suffer alone. He’d hoped - perversely, perhaps - that he would at least be able to put you back together. He’d kept your fingers until you made it back to Jackson, hoping that the doctor would be able to reattach them. But she’d shaken her head, looking almost pityingly at him as she did. They’d been gone too long, he was too late. He’d wrapped the parts of you he couldn’t save in a scrap of one of his shirts that you liked so much and buried it beside the tree in his front yard. You’d loved sitting there, playing guitar, before. It seemed right that part of you should stay there. He cleaned your wedding band and added it to the chain you’d given him with the bullet on it, the reminders of you always close. 

You were close now. So so close, so close it almost scared him. 

You pulled back from him, your eyes wide and deep and bright in the moonlight. 

“Joel,” you said softly, traces of familiar want in your voice. He had to try, again, to not moan at that. 

“Don’t have to do this, baby,” he said, brushing the soft skin of your cheek with his callused thumb. “S’OK.” 

“I know,” you said, your hand leaving his hair and holding his face much the same way he was holding yours. “But I want to.” 

“Bambi…” 

“I want you,” you said, rolling your hips against him as you spoke, the heat of desire sparking deep inside himself. He couldn’t hold the groan back this time, dropping his forehead to yours. “Please.” 

“Not going to hurt you,” he said, his chest tight at that thought. “Should… should just…” 

“You won’t hurt me,” you kissed him again, so soft and so gentle and you tasted sweet like peach and ginger from the tea and fuck but he missed you. He’d missed you so badly it hurt and the thought of never getting you back scared him so much he felt hollow if he lingered on it too long, like specter of the loss of you - even if your body was still here - threatened to send him back to the darkest reaches of himself. You were so close now, he could feel you, taste you. But if you left him now, after almost coming back to him, if he were the cause, that would ruin him. He knew it, deep at the core of him, that there would be no coming back from that. 

But you were here. 

“Please, Joel.” 

So close. 

“Please.” 

Begging for him. 

“I need you.” 

His resolve crumbled then. He kissed you, firm and needy and the way he wanted to kiss you for the rest of his life and you moaned into his mouth, your hand slipping down his skin to the back of his head, fingers knotting desperately in his hair. He swallowed the sounds of your pleasure, running his hand over you to your leg, hitching your thigh over his side so the next delicious roll of your hips made your hot pussy press against his hardening cock. 

It only took seconds for every concern in his head to melt away. How could he be worried about anything when you were here, like this, wanting him, moaning against him, feeling him and he was able to give you everything you wanted. He would break himself down into whatever form you needed and surrender himself to you, all you had to do was ask, all you had to do was let him. How could he be worried when you were finally letting him? 

He pulled your shirt over your head, casting it aside and you pulled at his in return so he took that off, too and then you were against him and he moaned at the feeling of your bare skin on his because fuck, you were soft. The plush curve of your breasts - your nipples peaked - on his chest, the soft of your stomach on his own, the heat of your tongue as you dipped into his mouth. He was breathing the same air as you again, feeling your pulse again, so close to being inside your skin again. 

You damn near ripped his pants off, scrambling with a desperate edge to your panting breaths as you did and he stopped you. You frowned, pupils blown, but he just held your hands still for a moment. 

“I got it,” he said, breathless himself. “Just one second, baby, I got you.” 

He pulled his pants off quickly and then yours, too and you were against him again almost immediately, your leg over his hip again as you lay side by side, facing each other, pressed so close and tight he was certain he could feel all of you against all of him. Your wet heat was tantalizingly, dangerously close to him, the head of his cock brushing against your sensitive sex. He held you tight, his lips brushing yours as you breathed into each other, noses touching, foreheads pressed together, a singular being tied together by want. 

But he stopped himself from simply thrusting into you, no matter how badly he ached to bury himself inside. You hadn’t told him what happened when Mitchum had you this time, all Joel knew was that he prayed he’d reached you before your captor had managed to hurt you like that again, that his men were afraid enough of their boss that they hadn’t, either. But he remembered what the first time he was with you had been like, how you’d been afraid, how he’d held you. He wasn’t about to just take what he wanted, no matter how much you seemed to be begging him to, not until he knew it wouldn’t break you down further. 

“You sure about this?” He asked. “You don’t have to do anything for me, baby. All you need to do for me is keep living, alright? Don’t want you to give me this unless you want it…” 

“I know,” you panted, kissing him again, the ache of need on your tongue. “I want to. I want you, I love you, please…” 

He kissed you, devouring your wanting as he pushed himself inside, his hand spreading wide over the small of your back, holding you in place as he sank into the tight, hot clutch of you. 

You moaned as he did, keening and desperate, and he felt you straining not to move, your leg tight around him, tension in your hips. The moment he was fully sheathed inside you, though, you let yourself go, your hips working against his and you pulled your lips from his, watching him. There was a look of almost awe in your eyes and he could feel the flutter of your pulse on the inside of you, feel the shudder of your needy, shallow breaths. You were so warm, so soft, shaped so perfectly for him, taking him into yourself in a way no one else ever had. He belonged here, like this, with you. This, he thought, was the only explanation. That when the matter that made up the two of you sprang into existence it was alongside each other and had spent both your lives racing for each other until you could be joined like this again. 

“Joel,” you whispered. “I missed you.” 

“I know, baby,” he whispered back. “I missed you, too. So, so much.” 

He rocked himself deeper then and you groaned, pressing your body completely against his, the soft of your cheek like silk against the rough of his beard, your quiet breaths drowning out every other sound in the world as your fingertips sank into his back, pulling at his skin as if you could knit yourself into him anymore than you already had.

Joel just held onto you like that, feeling you so close, his cock pressing deep inside where he belonged before pulling back only an inch or two, not daring to go any further from you than that. He became lost in you that way, the rhythm of your bodies together and the delicate moans and the wet plush of your mouth when your lips found his neck or shoulder when the building pleasure became too much. 

He felt you getting tighter around him and he knew just how to draw you tighter, drive your pleasure deeper. He let his baser instincts take over, kissing and sucking the delicate skin of your throat and listening to the shift in your needy breaths when he did, pressing a little harder on your back so he could get just a little deeper and feel your channel tense even more. 

“I’ve got you,” he said when it felt like you couldn’t be drawn any tighter. “Just come, come for me baby, please…” 

You came with a strangled little gasp, one he wouldn’t have heard had he been anywhere but this close, so close it seemed you had to be a single being now, tied together deeply and permanently, close enough that nothing would pull you away from him again. 

The almost painfully tight throbbing of you drove him over the edge and he came with you, buried so deep inside that he could feel all of you as you fluttered and pulsed over him. 

“Joel,” you groaned, sounding like you were far outside your own body when you did. “Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel, I love you, I love you.” 

You said it again and again until you went limp in his arms. He just held you for a minute, feeling your heartbeat and your skin, when you took a shaky breath and he felt a tear on his cheek. 

“Hey,” he carefully pulled himself back from you, your eyes red and wet. He tried to slip out of you but you tightened your leg on him, not letting him leave. “Baby, you gotta talk to me…” 

“I’m sorry,” you said, voice thick and wet and desperate in a whole new way. “I know I’ve been… I’m trying, I know I need to get back to normal with you and the girls and the horses and I don’t want to be like this and it’s like I can see where I was but I can’t reach it and I just…” 

“Hey,” he said again, taking your face in his hands. “Look at me. It’s OK. We’re in this together, you and me. It don’t matter how long it takes, what you need, as long as you’re here. When you were gone… I wasn’t sure I’d be able to go back without you…” 

“Joel…”

“Nothin’ really seemed worth it unless you were there, too,” he said. “That hasn’t changed and it’s not going to. Don’t matter how long it takes or what you need, it’s you and me. I’ve got you, baby. Always.” 

You nodded and burrowed into his neck and he held you until you were still and calm, drifting off in his arms. With you close like that, he managed to find sleep, too, passing out harder than he had since the two of you had come back to Jackson. He slept so hard that he didn’t feel you get out of bed in the night. 

It was still dark when he woke up and found himself alone, the bed cold. 

“Bambi?” He said quietly. But he didn’t expect you to answer. Something in him knew you were gone.

He got up quickly then, checking the bathroom and the living room and the kitchen and the porch but you weren’t anywhere. 

His heart raced. 

“Fuck,” he swore, wondering if you might have gone to see the girls or if he’d just scare them if he went there to check. He looked out the window, anyway, but their place was still dark. He tried to think of where else to go when it occurred to him, what you’d said in bed just a few hours earlier. The horses. You’d mentioned the horses. 

He shoved his feet into his boots, not bothering to tie them, and ran to the stable, the faintest hint of dawn starting on the horizon. He damn near skidded to a stop at the fence, his bad leg throbbing, but he didn’t care. You were there, getting to your feet from the dirt in the middle of the paddock, a determined look on your face. 

“Got news for you,” you said to the horse in front of you, one of the stallions you’d been working with before Cody took you. “Not gonna beat me that easy. I know it’s scary, know it’s hard but I promise it’s good for you. Just gotta let me take care of you.” 

He watched you pet and soothe the animal for a moment before you pulled yourself roughly onto the horse’s back with a pained groan. It immediately rebelled, bucking and thrashing, but you held on, long enough that Joel thought you’d outlast the horse when it managed to dislodge you and you flew, landing with a sickening thud on the dirt. 

“Shit,” Joel jumped the fence, running for you as the horse took off to the other side of the paddock. You groaned and shoved yourself up onto your hands as Joel reached you and you jumped a little when he touched you. He helped you sit up and you tried to stand but he held you down. You frowned, watching him. “Baby, what are you doin’ out here? It’s…” 

“I can’t keep letting them go like this,” you said, your eyes wide. “They need help, they need to learn how to live here, if I just let them keep going back to what they were it will be harder and and harder to get them to where they need to be!” 

“Sweetheart, you’re still recovering,” he said. “You can’t push it, you’ll…”  

“I need to do this, Joel,” you said softly, your hand with the missing fingers finding his cheek. “Please, let me.” 

He watched you for a moment, seeing you - the determined, forceful you - in your eyes for the first time in weeks. He tried to stifle his fear and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before pulling back. 

“I’ll be right here,” he smiled softly. “It’s you and me.” 

You gave him a small smile in return before getting up and going to the horse, talking to him for a moment before getting right back on. 

Next chapter

A/N: This is it, just one little chapter left to say goodbye to these characters we've been with for a year now! I can't believe we're finally here, it feels like I've been writing this story forever. Thank you so much for sticking with it even as I took a million years to finish and left you hanging time and again. This story was a big learning experience for me and I appreciate you hanging in there through it. Thank you for spending your time here and for loving them and making sharing this story so special. It means everything to me.

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust @ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost @beccerjune @mumma-moonchild @netonetoneto @mellymbee @purplelye @n7cje @flugazi @evyiione @randomhoex @aliengirl99 @orcasoul @reds-ramblings @pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel @jenispunk @panda-pascal @sarap-77 @flugazi @your-slutty-gf @daniegraceg @partyofone3413 @cumberpegg @noisynightmarepoetry. @fifia-writes @grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123 @ashleyfilm @arizonadreamingg

[cemeteryspider]

Dearie~

Alastor x Singer! Reader

Summary: Why the Radio Demon left and what happened to his lovely girlfriend

Trigger Warnings: Violence, gore, blood, injury, manipulation, emotional distress

Word Count: 1350

Next

The day you appeared in Hell, literally nothing changed. Everyone was still dealing in souls, threatening others, and everything worked as it had.

However, your life had turned upside down, quite literally. Minding your business, walking to work, you were killed in a robbery gone wrong. Then an instant later you were in Hell, your soul judged without mercy.

You scratched your neck where you remembered the knife sliding across, and took in your surroundings from your seat on the concrete pavement.

Everything was red and the people walking around barely resemble people anymore. Some were openly fighting, drawing weapons in the street. Others were, less than discreetly, doing drug deals. Some even had their teeth bared, and were ripping flesh off of decaying corpses.

Inhaling deeply, you continued your stride through the crimson streets of Hell, mirroring the casual walk you'd taken on Earth just moments before.

As you passed by a store, your reflection in the glass revealed the haunting beauty of Hell's transformation — the scar on your neck, the flapper-esque dress, and the crimson-hooved heels, each detail etched in infernal elegance. A huge coat with a fluffy fur collar and wrist cuffs. In your hair a single red feather.

It was a departure from your usual stage outfit but somehow it felt right in every single way possible.

With large eyes and a massive fur coat, you resembled a doe, the details carefully chosen to accentuate this striking similarity in the infernal surroundings.

With each step through the demonic streets, you couldn't shake the innate grace and vulnerability that now adorned you — reminiscent of a doe navigating the perilous woods.

As the crimson night descended, you graced the stage of an infernal club, your voice weaving sweet melodies and your body moving to the haunting rhythm, a living echo of your former life.

~~~

This went on for quite some time until your manager said they had someone you would want to meet. They wrung their wrists leaving you in an empty room.

In an instant a shadow turned into a smiling man with a microphone as a cane.

As his clawed fingers extended to meet yours, he greeted, "Hello, Miss, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I've been a fan of your performances for quite some time."

His voice sounded like it was straight out of the radio you used to listen to as a kid with your mother. You stood from your seat and met his hand with your pristine gloved ones.

"Likewise"

This marked the inception of a perfect union, and the palpable electricity between you and Alastor sparked a connection that transcended the realms of Hell and Earth.

Later that week you quit your job at the club and began singing on his radio show. Sometimes a couple songs a day and others you would sing for hours into the microphone, and Alastor, as you would come to know him, kept you busy. Meetings and lunches were a daily occurance. Running around the Pride Ring with him might just have been the highlight of your afterlife.

Soon the talk of the town was Alastor and his new "girlfriend". The Overlord who took Hell by storm was now bringing a new face into his empire, despite many listeners not knowing what they looked like.

~~~

"Lucifer, Rosie, I can't believe you would bring that up"

"What dear, it was just lovely when we heard your voice for the first time"

"Yeah and I cried after because I was so afraid everyone hated the performance"

"Everyone loved you dear not to mention the encore! Cannibal Town has never heard cheers so loud"

Alastor stormed into the Emporium where you and Rosie were enjoying cups of tea.

"Hello Rosie, Dearie, may I sit"

You gestured to the open seat next to you and he sat down, smile never faltering.

"What's wrong darling" You tentatively put your hand over his clawed one.

"Vox asked me to take part in his atrocious video service to aid him in acquiring new viewers" His smile darkened as he said this. "He wanted to use us for his monetary gain"

"We just won't do it then darling, it has always been us against the world, has it not", Your eyelashes batted against your cheeks and a calming hum emanated from your throat.

Finally, his fingers intertwined with yours, a subtle relaxation spreading across his stern features as a small, genuine smile tugged at the corners of his lips

"We were just about to talk about Susan and her latest stunt" Rosie said, attempting to lighten the mood, and successfully Alastor's mind was off of Vox.

~~~

Still time passed and Vox could not seem to let the rejection go.

"So Sugar how's about a deal" Vox caught up to you after leaving Cannibal Town with the Venison that Alastor asked you to grab for dinner that night.

"Vox, neither him nor I will be taking a deal from you, and I would appreciate it if you stopped asking" Your pace quickened but he sped up to match you.

"But Doll think of the good things we could do together" The TV stood in front of you and grabbed your shoulders to keep you in place.

"I would suggest removing your hands before I remove them myself" Alastor appeared behind me, and Vox immediately let go and started his defense.

You just kept walking as the two started to argue in the streets.

~~~

Alastor paced the studio in the minutes after the broadcast ended. Finally you had enough of it.

"Alastor, what is the matter"

The deer in the headlights look would have made you chuckle in any other scenario. He stopped pacing and looked into your eyes.

"Vox has had the thought that he only needs one of us to make a success story for him"

Your brows scrunched and reached out to him.

"Darling we always have been a package deal"

"Yes, Dearie, but it seems that Vox will turn to violence in his child-like way of solving problems"

You embraced Alastor and inhaled his scent. A metallic musky scent that you have related to him the moment you were in a room alone together.

"I promise we will find a way to win, Darling"

"We shall, mon cherie"

~~~

Things got worse and worse from there. The two competitors just kept fighting and ruining the other's broadcasts. With the tension rising, something had to break.

A fight that left everyone with bruises and cuts, was finally over with Vox towering above you. The Vees stood victorious surrounding you and Alastor.

Vox made a deal with you, after the gruesome fight between the TV Demon and Alastor. For just two small things he would let the Radio Demon live and walk away. Just that Alastor had to leave town and that you stayed with Vox and became something of a co-host.

This was the deal. Everything you worked for had led to this moment. Alastor was on the ground bleeding heavily with Vox's new friends towering over him ready to end him with specially made angelic weapons.

As Valentino's blade pierced through Alastor's side, the Radio Demon didn't even flinch, his gaze fixed on you, the anchor in his tumultuous world. He tried to crawl closer to your spot on the ground. Vox's sinister smile loomed over you, and as you exhaled the breath you'd been holding, the realization settled in — he had won. Vox had you both right where he wanted you.

"Yes, Vox, just release him" A cold, blue flame materialized, casting an eerie glow on the contract before you. Your hands trembled as you reluctantly etched your signature at the bottom, sealing a fate you never anticipated. With the curly writing set in stone, your soul belonged to the Vees.

"Perfect, quite a lovely signature beautiful, I can't wait to see your pretty face light up all the screens in this city" Alastor tried to reach for you just as Vox zapped you into V-Tower.

"Wait just let me say good-bye"

Vox just chuckled.

"Sorry Babe, not in the contract"

[twistedwonderlandwriting]

-˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹ Desperation ˖⁺. ༶ ❤︎ ⋆˙⊹-

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Wordcount:1,101|readerx:Sebek Zigvolt|Style:Oneshot

WARNINGS: Angst!|Implied violence|Blood|

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

Sebek paced the room back and fourth the cheap immitation wood while glancing twords the phone lying directly top of her comforter on the perfectly made bed. Sighing exasperatedly whilst crossing his arms over for a few more impatient seconds while crossing and storming towards his bed and picking up her phone. Shaking it frustratedly like he was choking the device before dropping the rectangle onto his bed. Pointing to it accusationaly while leaning down and getting into its face or rather screen like that was going to do something. Raising his voice as if commanding the machine.

"CALL YOU INSIGNIFICANT HUMAN!"

Silver from across the room let out a scoff at this melodramatic display. That he foud quite ridiculous, almost to the point of being comediac. Lifting his sleepy head a bit better while commenting, quirking a single brow upwards slight while telting his head to the side slightly, his lips pressed into a line. sending a "really" look to the uptight retainer.

"That won't accomplish anything."

Sebek huffed at him, stomping his foot slightly before sending a glare Silver's way. Usually he wouldn't dare to act this was since he considered it to be a tad childish and un-knightly not to mention shamefull to Waka-sama but this was his room and there was no one to judge his strange behavior. Reaching across his bed and grabbing one of the few pillows on his bed. Flinging it hard twords Silver.

"Silence Yourself!'

Silver tilted to the left slightly tiredly and unnecessarily to avoid the rouge pillow that had been thrown twords him quite poorly for sebek considering that it hadnt even been in the general vicinity of her slouched form on a bean bag, instead hitting the wall right next to the tv. Glancing to the tv that was now stable after the brutal attack.

"Your aim was horrid. Perhaps you should go train." He huffed at his reply. Now was not the time to train. The human was late to their scheduled phone call. Making exaggerated gestures while speaking a bit too loudly.

"Now is not the time to train! The human is late."

Humming in thought of course silver just had to comment, he might burst into flames if she didnt, well he may have said er- well thought it was a comment but it was more like a observation. He hated when he was right."You must be quite fond of the prefect to wait this long."

Silver stated sleepily while trying to resist the urge to close his eyes. Though Sebek being the stubborn man he was refused, even as his cheeks were tinted with pink at the mere thought of them. "Of course not. They are nothing but a week human" However Silver just shrugged, lowering his head while Sebek sighed impatiently, turning once more twords her phone. Pressing the power button just once seing the time being 6:43 with his painfully empty notification center directly underneath. Staring emptily at the screen. "You have that look again... What? Daydreaming of walking with them in the forest or somethin?"

Why hasn't they called yet? They aways called by now. Is something wrong? Did something happen? Are they mad? Are they mad at me? What could i have done? Was it something i said? Did i offend them? Did i insultthem? Are they just bored? Are they done with me?

Something in his heart was aching, like someone was squeezing his heart, his brows burrowing together as he attempted to identify this feeling.

"They'll call. Im sure they will."

Sebek nodded reluctantly, forcing himself to turn away from the rectangle she had been awaiting a call from. Maybe he was being overprotective clingy and obnoxious, but it was nice to have someonethat was willing to hear Malleus’s greatness, they listened to him daily listing off the princes superior traits. So he had become a bit expectant...but he really enjoyed their company, though he would dial this back a bit..one call would be ok to miss....

Little did he know of the body laying outside of school in the bushes.

.

.

.

.

It was early the next morning when Sebek awoke, and not his usual awaking at 5am. Groggily turning over as he stirred from his slumber, then the sound of footsteps alerted him of a unwanted presence in his room. Sebek immediately became alert, sitting up in bed. Reaching over to his sheathed sword in the dead of the night. His hand grasped the handle in the sword in a matter of milliseconds, prepared to strike down his foe in seconds before a familiar voice came through the darkness.

"Keep the it sheathed."

He paused at Lilia, wondering what the fae was doing in his room at the ungodly time of two am since the fae had never been in his room without being invited. Especially not when the green haired half fae was sound asleep.

"Lilia-Sama, what are you doing? Did something happen to Waka-sama-"

Lilia shook his head twords the overprotective teen. Quickly cutting off his line of questioning so that this conversation would be limited to 10 minutes instead of a hour.

"No, the headmage called a meeting. I was just here to leave a note to explain it in case Malleus and I had not returned when you had awoken."Sebek was surprisingly aware although he had awoken not a few moments ago. This was unusual, the usual didn't have a meeting until at least 8 am unless it was emergency.

"What is it?"

The Vice warden hesated for a few moments. Internally debating whether or not he should inform sebek of the situation, especially since it had to do with the human he had recently grown to be fond of and he didn't know what was to come. Eventually deciding that sebek was mature enough and that he would figure out anyways and it was best he heard it from a reliable source.

"I am not for certain what is going on, but it involves Grim and prefect."

That was all the confirmation that he needed. Throwing off his comforter, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. He strode over to to his closet and swung open the doors….taking only a few moments to dress grabbing his phone and keys all within a minuteexit so he may follow close behind...hesitating and looking back at his sword for a moment. Before he swiftly grabbed it before following behind the fae.

Lilia apparently made not objections as they walked through Diasomnia to the mirror the path being cold and dark lacking the comfort it brought during the day….eventually reaching the mirror slipping through it to the other side.

The freezing air of hitting his face as soon as he made his way to the other side appearing in the room everyone used as a meeting room for housewarden. Immediately he was met with the sound of crying, his heart clenching at the context of it all. Taking a step or two closer to the circle of people gathered around something only to see grim. "I miss my hench human! You have to bring them home! Please! They wouldn't leave. Not without telling me! They have been gone for hours. I swear I'll be good. Just bring them back." It was heart-renching to see this usual pridefulcreature litterally sobing heartbroken on the ground Begging. Pleading. For his friend to return.

Riddle stepped in the center next to the creature, clearing his throat, having a attention direct twords him as he raised his voice to make a announcement. "The issue has been made clear. Let us waste no more time. Kalim, Vil, Jade, Trey, Leona, Ortho Lilia cover your dorms. Ruggie, Azul, Jamil, rook, Idia, Sebek Search campus. Any questions? No? Let's move." No on dared ask any questions, this was their prefect. Even if some didn't consider themselves close to the magicless human they at least owed them for all they had done. Sebek ignored everyone else as they scrambled to gather their wits, moving past as he entered the outdoors. Shoving away all his swirling thoughts of what may of happen to his human as he pressed on. Searching through the darkness.

.

.

.

.

The chilly air was in his face making his nose a tad pink. Each and every breath being tainted with condensation making it look like smoke in the frigid air. A distinct crack came from the greenery immediately Sebeks mind went to the worst, his hand flying to his handle, quickly withdrawaling the sword from its sheath. Imaging the worst, huge, magical creature that may have caused you to not return. A snap sound emanated once more as something got closer. Sebek prepared to strike the vile creature where it stood. Only for a tiny squirl to appear from the bushes. Sebek scoffed at himself for having such a immediate reaction only for it to be futile in the end. Taking a few steps closer to the bush to look a bit closer at the creature only for it to scamper away.

Sheathing his sword about to turn away when a small hint of a dark color in the bushes caught his attention. Taking a few steps closer her drew his wand. Casting a simple light spell to reveal what lay within the darkness. A dark red substance splattered on the wall as it dripped from the bushes. The smell of metallic hitting him in the face hard. His eyes widening at the sight and darting all over to take in. Every detail.

Then his eyes landed on your skin that was now purple and red in most areas. Immediately kneeling beside you he frantically removed his jacket draping it over you before gently picking you up. His usually gelled hair now down in its natural form and hanging over his eyes. Your skin was as cold as ice to him as he cradled you in his arms. Running his fingers throughout your hair while muttering desperate apologies. Wishing that he could make it all go away. Tears running down his face as he begged your unconscious body not to forgive him, but just to make it.

"I'm so sorry. I failed human. I failed at protecting you. I don't deserve to be Waka-sama’s retainer. Please please please don't die. Not now. Not due to my foolishness. I don't want your life cut short."

[mins-fins]

self control — [ mark lee — 엔시티. ]

where no matter how stubborn he may be, it's only you that mark lee really wants.. | now playing ❅

people tend to do the worst of things to cope when they're unhappy.

for mark, it's many things. scribbling down equally depressive song lyrics, smoking, retreating himself from everyone, drinking, the occasional late night hookup..

and also standing in front of his ex boyfriends door at eleven pm.

listen, mark isn't an easy guy. you two have already been broken up for months, it isn't as if this is some planned decision, it's a spare of the moment arbitration that mark would've never made if he was in his right mind.

but the thing is, he is in his right mind. it's not like he's drunk or high, he could use the excuse that his feet dragged him all the way over here, yet you would never take that with any sort of reason. it was either this or sinking back into his work, which he doesn't exactly want to do.

he contemplates as he stares at your door, just fucking brown hard wood. nothing special. he clears his throat as he raises his fist to land a knock, his anxiety rising as silence again fills the hallway.

he hears shuffling behind other doors, jazz music faintly playing, a few neighbors arguing, but it's all tuned out in favor of the the footsteps rapidly approaching behind your door. he thinks he might have enough time to ru—

"..oh, hi".

your tone is inquiring, and mark understands why. seeing your ex in front of your door after three months of simply silence is strange, and there's nothing behind your eyes but pure confusion.

mark stares with his big eyes bugged out freakishly, he blinks as he collects the words he so desperately rehearsed before deciding to knock your door. "uh— hi, i'm sorry i don't know why.."

he can't speak, because you're looking at him with those eyes. it's really hard to focus when everything is happening.

"can we talk?"

seamless segway, your eyes drag over mark's entire figure, he tenses up in a way he knows you can clearly sense. "sure" you whisper, face scrunching at your tone.

mark enters and immediately wants to shrink. he likes your place, he always has loved your place, it's why he preferred going to you in comparison to you going to him. the expanse of a space holds solace, memories, and many moments of drunk sobbing that mark's lips take an upturn at.

"so why do you want to talk?"

oh, right, his excuse, mark's lips take a downturn. his hands shove into his pockets as he rocks back and forth on his heels, his tongue coming to lick at his lips. it's so strange to see you act so normal,

okay so maybe averting eyes and cheeks that are tinted red can't be described as 'normal' around your ex.

"i don't, i lied and i didn't know what to say when i saw you actually opened your door for me".

you pause, then, you chuckle, head topping downward as your gaze laser focuses on the floor. "that's funny.."

"yeah".

good god it's awkward.

you shrug your shoulders, spinning on your heel as you motion towards the kitchen. "do you want hot chocolate?"

mark shakes his head silently, settling onto your couch, quickly sinking into the comfortable cushions.

you blink, sighing as you settle beside him, the air again growing awkward as you place your hands into your lap, exhaustion clear in your eyes.

"is this weird?"

"after three months yeah" you snicker at your own words. "i probably would've understood if you came around like a few weeks after? but this was really random.."

"yeah".

"so what gives?"

"i.."

i missed you, no i miss you, i want you so bad, i'm sorry for overworking myself then dismissing your worries, random people at bars can't compare to you y/n, i want you back.

"i don't know".

you hum, kissing your teeth.

mark intently watches the movement of your lips and absolutely hates himself for doing so.

"it's not normal to randomly show up at your exes place, mark".

you didn't have to tell mark that, he opts to glance away on his shame. you relax your back against the cushion, biting the inside of your cheek. "so either you want me back.. or you're going to assassinante me".

oh well, you've always been good at reading mark's mind.

mark straightens his posture, scooting closer. "i miss you" he whispers, sucking his teeth at his own words. he sounds like some desperate loser who never got over his ex, oh wait.. that is what he is.

who cares? it's past ten o'clock, being ashamed of his actions is simply not needed. "a lot.. it's embarrassing".

"not really that embarrassing if you just told me right now".

mark is very desperate, his hands find purchase on your legs. you stare, and he stares back, eye contact much too difficult to avoid. "i don't know, it still kinda is.." he draws shapes into your pants, eyes flitting towards your lips.

how obvious can he be?

his eyes again widen exponentially as you catch him staring bright as day. well, he threw shame out of the window a long long time ago.

"did you miss me too?"

you contemplate on your words, a trial that only gets the anxiety back up on mark's tail. his bottom lip is caught between his teeth, a certain look in his eye that you seem to find amusing.

mark begins chewing on his lip as he impatiently awaits an answer, maybe he should shout, or scream, or.. something, it's embarrassing how spontaneous his responses are.

and he's about to scream, but you decide to answer his question by leaning forward, soft lips pressing against his.

they've always been soft, well chapped, a smooth force that seem to contrast with his own. he unfortunately can't keep his composure, letting his arms come up to wrap around your neck as you fall backward, mark messily staggering into your lap as he keeps you two pressed together.

it would be an understatement to say that he's addicted, your hands slide down towards his hips, and he sighs against your lips. he tugs you closer, as if the heat radiating from you isn't enough, as if he wants to be one with you.

his left hand comes down to cradle the side of your face, nothing else mattering. maybe your neighbors have begun fighting again, the women across the hall is baking chocolate chip cookies, your package might've arrived just now, but fuck it, who cares? mark knows he doesn't.

the only reason for separation is air, but mark could fathom kissing you until he ran out of breath, his fingers beginning to play with the hem of your shirt as he watches the rise and fall of your chest.

"yeah" your voice has a rasp to it that makes mark dizzy for a second. "missed you too".

mark parts his lips, staring down at yours. his eyes are blown wide, sparkling under the light of the lamp which barely illuminates the living room. "then maybe you should kiss me again".

you snort, but you oblige once more, allowing for mark to capture his soft lips once again. they taste like cherries, oh you never change, mark is positively going crazy. after a month of shady motel rooms including people he can barely remember, mark could never get you out of his mind.

mark tugs at your bottom lip, another small breath falling from his lips. he doesn't like cherries much, he just likes how they taste on your lips.

"you know exes don't do this right?"

mark pinches your collarbone, drawing a wince. "you know how to ruin the mood you.."

he can't exactly collect his words, your smile is taunting. "just don't talk about it".

"then we'll have to awkwardly talk in the morning".

mark shakes his head, cheeks a soft rose red. "who cares? were doing this now".

he isn't exactly sure why he's so.. determined, per say, but maybe kissing just draws something different from him. "so you want to sleep with me then not talk about tomorrow morning?"

"who cares about tomorrow? i'm focusing on right now".

you again decide to snicker, resting your forehead on mark's chest. you clearly find his words extremely amusing, but your fingers begin caressing under his shirt, the ministrations as comforting as they are calming.

"hey," mark softly calls out, eyes lidded heavily. "you know if we don't do this right now, i could die, and do you want me to die without getting in my pants one last time?"

how stupid, mark sees it in the way you laugh. "you're ridiculous".

"but i'm right".

you roll your eyes, still completely smitten. "okay, sure" you then pull him closer. "since you want me so bad".

mark attempts his best scowl. "you're so full of yourself".

your smile is beautiful, but mark still has to feign vexation at the sight. "and you talk too much".

"oh and what are you going to do? shut me u—"

mark yelps as you decide to turn the tables, now having him be the one under you. "yea, gladly".

and maybe mark isn't so against that idea.

[cr4yolaas]

mezzo forte — non-confrontational

track 7: pity party | masterlist | track 9: homesick v.2

heavy, purple bags weigh his eyes down. it's the first thing she notices when she swings open the door with a little too much force. he's exhausted, that much made obvious by the droopiness on his face and the unkempt nature of his hair. for a moment, she forgets why she came there.

he doesn't make a move to let her in. instead, he rests the entirety of his weight on the doorframe, the old painted wood creaking ever so slightly beneath the pressure. it's as if her presence is a hindrance to him. her feet plant themselves on the floor in retaliation to his foreign detachment, and slowly, the confusion and anger that motivated her visit come crawling back in the form of pinpricks clinging onto her spine.

"hajime," she mutters, and the forgoing of his usual nickname makes him falter just a bit. "what happened that night? at the reunion party?"

he shifts his stance from one leg to the other. he doesn't know what to say.

"you and tooru have ignored me since, and it- i don't know, i just feel lost. i don't know what happened. and i hate that both of you are hiding it from me," she rambles, and he can tell she's upset.

truthfully, he's horrified. he doesn't want to tell her the truth -- if it even is the truth -- but he knows that nothing will happen if he doesn't say anything.

"who have your songs been for this whole time?" he asks, his voice cracking and his hands shaky. the creases on her forehead only increase tenfold, and he's scared. a heavy sigh falls from her lips.

"it's always been you, haji," she heaves out, unloading a burden that had hung heavy on her shoulders for years upon years. "they were all for you. i don't- i don't understand how you didn't see it. and i feel stupid for not making it more obvious."

he pauses. his mouth hangs agape and with every shallow breath he takes, a bit of his pride and confidence seeps out. disbelief weighs heavily in his heart and overpowers every other rational sense that's kept him going for so long.

"it can't be me. it really, really can't."

it comes out as a whisper, his words nearly lost to the gentle summer breeze. she hears it as a rejection -- an admission that she cannot write syrupy, silly melodies for him, because he cannot satisfy the sickly sweet sensation rotting her heart. she loathes how aloof he seems to be about it.

something bubbles up within her throat. she's scared that, if she so much as breathes another breath, she'll say something she doesn't mean. so, instead, with an ache in her chest and a pounding in her head, she walks away -- because she cannot bear to face the end of the road that she's been running on for so long.

he doesn't chase after her, nor does he depart from the scene. hajime maintains his posture against the door. guilt gnaws violently at the sinew between his bones and every ligament that ensures his stability, and he swears he can feel the pitter-patter of his heart diminish into something slow and scattered.

hajime is terribly non-confrontational when it comes to her -- that much had been a consistent truth since they met, in their little suburban neighborhood at the unripe age of 7 -- and he curses his own weakness for destroying what he'd been holding onto so desperately.

♪ i’m lowk rushing thru this bc i’m too eager to end mezzo forte i’m sorry 😭😭 i love it but i canr wait for it to end if that makes sense

♪ yn got nothing done in the whole week of no contact with the other two. she was quite literally paralyzed with fear she couldn’t finish any of her work

♪ yachi thrives on severe retail therapy habits if u couldnt tell

♪ msby 4 was lowk listening from the hallway they love the chismis but also they r actually invested in this relationship

♪ i think we might get the triple update tn 😭😭

taglist: @zumicho @causenessus @guitarstringed-scars @yuminako @chemiru @sunnyskiezzzz @httpsivy @itsdragonius @theycallmenanamisgirl @wyrcan @19calicos @hunnies4bunnies @mawenskiblue @diorzs @loverlunaire @mfcherry @solaqes @myromanempiree @brithedemonspawn @corvid007 @lilchubbyyy