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system-to-the-madness · 1 month

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Cherry Blossom Confessions 🌸 Okkotsu Yūta x Reader

Pairing: Okkotsu Yūta x Reader (can be read as any gender, no pronouns used) Genre: fluff Word Count: 1 423 Summary: Yūta spills a well-kept secret Prompt: accidental confession A/N: Firs time writing for Yūta! Also, I wanted to post these stories in time with the local cherry blossom, but it keeps delaying because the weather was too cold (on Wednesday it snowed even). I’m just gonna start posting and hope the cherry blossom will eventually catch up with me.

Sakura Festival Masterlist - Masterlist

Pink petals drifted through the air, looking like snowflakes in the warm afternoon light. It was only late March, but the sun had already gained back a lot of its power after the colder winter months, making you smile contently to yourself as you closed your eyes and held your face into the sun, trying not to let yourself be distracted by the person at your side.

Yūta was, for once, out of his school uniform, and instead dressed in an oversized shirt and some wide jeans which made his slim figure seem to drown in fabric. But it looked good, unfairly good even. You could tell he was fiddling around with his necklace, even without looking at him, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he seemed nervous.

“What’s wrong,” you asked eventually, unable to take his fidgeting any longer.

You had known him for a good while, and his behaviour now was more like he had been when you had first met him. Back then he had been jumpy and shy, always expecting the worst of people. But as he had settled more into the life at Jujutsu High, the shy and easily scared boy had turned into the open-hearted, funny, and fiercely loyal friend you had gotten so attached to.

“Nothing,” Yūta’s answer came almost too quickly, making you raise your brows before you blinked open your eyes and turned to look at him.

He had cut his hair a little since winter, the formerly long strands having been trimmed into a new haircut, which made him look gentler than the rather harsh look he had been sporting before. His grey eyes met yours defiantly, as if he was challenging you to question his reply, but you didn’t do him the favour. Instead, you continued watching his face.

Recently he had started getting cute freckles over his nose that now started to turn a darker shade as he blushed under your inquisitive gaze. You wondered if he could tell your own cheeks were heating up, too.

“Anyway,” you shrugged, tearing your gaze away from him and focusing back on the pink petals of the cherry trees you were sitting under.

Silence engulfed you for a while, but you couldn’t quite tell if it was the good or the bad kind. You also didn’t know what you were supposed to say. Which was weird, considering you never had any problems of engaging in conversation with Yūta. You always found things to talk about, to joke about, even if it was only Gojo-sensei’s latest shenanigans. But somehow it suddenly felt as if this silence was important, as if it were the preparation for whatever was to come next. What a strange sentiment…

“You’re beautiful.”

Confused you turned to Yūta, who was still watching you, his eyes widening as you met his surprised. He had never said anything like that before, usually his compliments were limited to your fighting in training or during missions.

Quickly you looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer.

“Uhm, thanks…” you trailed off. Certainly he had to pick up on your embarrassment now, right? Your warm cheeks, the way you subconsciously had started playing with a blade of grass underneath your hand… you quickly pulled your hand away and intertwined it with the fingers of your other hand to stop the motion.

“Did I say that out loud,” Yūta wondered, a hint of amusement, but also embarrassment in his voice.

“Yeah, …”

He chuckled, and you glanced at him from the corner of your eyes. He had averted his eyes, and instead was staring up at the branches over you as he was chewing on his lip, clearly thinking hard about something. Suddenly he snapped his head back at you, almost startling you with the sudden motion, but it was obvious he had come to the conclusion of whatever he had thought over.

“I don’t tell you enough. Actually, I think I’ve never told you, but I always think you’re beautiful,” he confessed, his voice lacking any of the embarrassment from before and instead sounding determined now.

“Careful,” you chuckled nervously, “what will Rika think?”

Rika. Probably the biggest reason why you had never dared thinking of Yūta as anything other than a friend. You didn’t exactly feel like getting into a fight with a special grade curse over your classmate.

“Oh, she knows I think you’re beautiful,” Yūta shrugged, his voice returning to the more relaxed tone you usually knew from him.

“Does she?

“Yes, of course she does. I talk to her about you all the time.”

You furrowed your brows and turned back to look at Yūta. He had leant back, hands propped behind him against the grass, eyes closed. Black lashes rested against his pale, lightly freckled skin, and shadows of the cherry blossom danced softly over his features. He looked like an angel, you thought, or like the protagonist in some rom-com.

“You talk to her about me?” You hated how small your voice suddenly sounded.

“It’s not so strange, is it,” Yūta asked, his eyes still closed as he let the shadows slip over his face. “I have to talk to someone who won’t judge me. And Inumaki just keeps insisting I should finally confess to you. I can’t hear it anymore.”

You blinked, once, twice, wondering if Yūta was aware of what he had just said. And then you wondered if what he had just said meant what you think it meant.

“Confess what?”

The way Yūta tensed up revealed that he had not been aware of what he had just said. His eyes snapped open and quickly he sat up.

“I-”

The way he looked at you now, with widened eyes, and clearly insecure reminded you painfully much of the way he had looked at you in the first weeks of knowing you, always scared he had or was about to say something wrong, always worried you’d laugh at him, attack him, make fun of him or were out to hurt him.

“I- I didn’t…” His eyes kept skipping over your face as if the words he was supposed to reply with were writing in your features. After a few moments of stuttering around, he squeezed his eyes shut. “Confess that I like you,” he blurted out. “And have liked you for a long time. I didn’t want to tell you because I don’t want to put you in the weird position of rejecting someone who-”

“Yūta, Yūta!”

You interrupted the ramble he was picking up, instinctively bringing your hand up to his cheek. He still had his eyes closed, but instantly relaxed into your palm.

“Relax, it’s okay,” you assured him. “I like you, too.”

It took him a moment, but then the rest of the tension in his body fell away, and he blinked his eyes open.

“You do?”

The hope in his voice tucked at your heart and you nodded with a gentle smile.

“Yes, I do, you idiot. How couldn’t I?”

Yūta blinked at you, clearly surprised by your answer and uncertain what to do next. It took a few moments before the confused expression in his eyes melted away and was replaced by the joyous glimmer you loved seeing in his eyes so much.

“Then go out with me,” he demanded, a smile beginning to tuck at his lips, which turned into a proper grin as you nodded in agreement.

You were about to pull your hand away from his face, but he caught it in his, and keeping your eyes fixed on yours, he lifted your hand to his lips to place a delicate but lingering kiss on your knuckles, never breaking eye contact. The action drove heat into your cheeks, which only seemed to raise his confidence as he carefully lowered your hand and scooted closer to you.

“How about,” he leant in, his face right in front of yours now, “how about I take you out for dinner after this.”

You smiled at his suggestion and nodded. “I’d love that.”

“Perfect,” Yūta nodded to himself.

Then he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and gently pulled you backwards until you were laying in the grass, squeezed against him, looking up at the blue sky above you through the pink petals of the cherry tree. Suddenly he groaned, making you raise your eyebrows at him again even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

“What’s wrong?”

“Inumaki will be so pissed that he didn’t get to come up the ultimate confession-plan.”

@delzinrowe

165 notes · View notes

hidden-poet · 4 months

Text

S. lands on top

summary: Coriolanus returns home to the Capital with two women from district 12 plaguing his mind. One a (presumed) dead mystery but another well within his reach.

warnings: unco, dark!Coriolanus, possessive!Corirlanus, Dark themes, mentions of death, punishments not fun-ishments, she/her pronouns, kidnapping, violence. lucy-grey slander (I love her).

unedited.

Next chapter

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Coriolanus strides through the citadel.

His pace was quick and egger to reach its destination of Dr Gaul's playroom.

He passes a line of Peace keepers without a glace, and they don't bother him. Now knowing the face of the youngest game maker ever.

He yanks open the door, and walks down her long corridor of horrors to were she sat at her operating table, digging into a screaming creature.

He slams his piece of paper down on the desk beside her, and she eyes its curiously.

"The work I've done today" he explains. The crunch paper read the headline; the 11th hunger games: problems and solutions. And that was all.

She goes back to her work after a quick glance.

"congratulations".

"You need to do something about it" he throws his hands up frustrated and begins to pace, "i can't think. I sit in that room all day staring at paper".

He refers to his quite lavish and large office as a room. The Spoils of the Capital no longer foreign to him.

"A lobotomy perhaps?". Dr Gaul continues her work uninterested in the boys issues.

"Don't you want me to be the best I can be? Elevate the Hunger games to be something that the Capital people cheer and look froward to?"

"You would not be standing in front of me if i thought otherwise" Dr Gaul remarks.

"then help me. He stops his pacing to look at her.

"What would you have me do, Mr Snow?"

"Give me a letter of transit out of district 12"

"i thought you said you killed Lucy-grey"

"I did".

he is pretty sure he did. Even if the bullet never made fatal impact, she would never survive the infection let alone the elements of the forest.

'There was another. A young girl who would wash my peace keeper uniform."

"My!' the irradiate old women coo'd, "What a lover boy you truly are"

Enthralled by his request, Dr Gaul spins out of her chair and goes to retrieve the paper from her writings desk.

"A simple girl hinders you from completing your work? a district girl no less. Does she know this?"

"I've never even spoken to her" he admits.

Dr Gual lets out a loud laugh as she flicks her pen to her signature.

"You are more like me than you like to claim. You have your pets and I have mine" she walks over, holding the yellow piece of paper in her hands.

'Dare i say mine are more useful, but after all you are just a man"

Coriolanus reaches for it but she pulls it back.

"And man, when they are truly focused are the most dangerous things on the planet".

He doesn't shy away from her stare. It holds no horror for him any longer. Rather he challenges it. He had his fathers eyes. Cold, deep and unrelenting to opposition.

He wins another round and she pushes the paper into his hands. He gives no thank you as he turns back to the door.

'let's hope this one survives you".

Her words still him by the door, but he had no time to dwell. He had a train to catch, peace keepers to organize, and a girl to bring home.

---------

Mabel had just gotten home for the day. Had just set down her satchel and begin to make her way to the kitchen to help prepare dinner when peace keeps knocked down her door. Her complaints of the wet weather now seeming immaterial as they flooded the small house, turning its residents up against the wall.

She calls out to her father as he is violently shoved to his knees.

"That's the girl. the young one" a peace keeper nodded in her direction. Another turns, heading down the hall for you.

"RUN!" Her father demands and Mabel takes off through the back door. She runs through the pouring rain past her village to the backing forest were she knew she could hide.

Branches mark her face up as she pushes through the thickness. She couldn't stop, hearing numerus foot steps chasing her. She dodges and weaves hopping to lose them enough so she could hide.

A shot is fired, offering her a lull in the marching as their commander reprimanded them.

"unharmed! Unharmed! you imbecile! capital orders".

She jumps over a large fallen log and nestles herself as far as she could under it. The mud sloshes underneath her, weighing her knee length grey dress down while the rest of the mud smeared over her bare legs. The rain keeps pelting down which help to wash away her foot prints.

She wondered what she did to gain capital attention. Enough Capital attention that they would want her unharmed and not shot at first sight.

"little girl" she heard the same voice that reprimanded the others call out to her, "come out. We are not going to hurt you unless you make us".

Living in the districts all her life she knew that was a life. She clamps her hands over her mouth to quieten her heavy breathing, as she listens to their walking footsteps.

"If not for you" the voice continues, "Then for your family. They'll hang if you make this too hard on us".

Her family. She was powerless to protect them if she ran. She was powerless now, but provocation was the last thing Peace keepers needed to make good on a threat.

So she came out. A peace Keeper had just been to her left, above her. If he wasn't stupid he would have found her anyway.

he raised his gun to her and called out to the others.

"There's a good girl" The shrieking voice was placed to a little man. Short in statue and round. He had bushy eyebrows that nearly hit his helmet and a large flat nose.

"cuff her"

The peace keeper lowered his gun to do so.

"What have I done?" she asks as she is lead back through the forest with a tight grip on her arm.

"capital business. But you can add running away from Peace keepers and resisting arrest to the list".

"I haven't done anything. You can't do this" Mabel pleads. It was correct. She was an outstanding citizen of district 12. She worked more than she played.

'Take it up with the capital" The little man huffed.

She is led through the peering eyes of the village back to her home where a large Capital issued van was waiting. Upon seeing the retrieving group, half the peace keepers loaded themselves back up onto the wooden panels on the side ready for deployment.

The peace Keepers that pushed their guns into the back of her mum and dad's head relent as well. It was late and this mission had interpreted their dinner time.

She could see her father throw his arms over her mother keeping the old women from fighting a Peace Keeper. It would only get them all killed.

she was pushed to the van. not even allowed a goodbye. A peace keeper in the back of the van positioned himself to lift her up. He squatted down and held out his arms to lift. She was going to make it easy for him by stepping up upon outer frame but a voice lit the fire once more.

"Mabel!".

She froze. She knew that little voice from a crowd of a hundred.

her little sister had returned home from sewing school to see her being loaded up into a peace keeper van.

"Livy go to Mrs Flexures house. Go!".

She protested, choosing to run through a crowd of big men.

A Peace keeper caught her and lifted her up into his arms like a flailing fish.

"let her go" Mabel screams. She tries to make her way to her sister but is stopped by the Goblin caption.

Mabel was normally a outstanding citizen but hearing her sister screaming, she bit down on the captions hand.

He shouted as her teeth sunk, releasing her from his hold. She pulls against hands and sounds of the reserved peace keepers exiting the van to get to her sister.

She is stopped but it didn't matter, Livy was dropped in case the Peacekeeper needed both hands.

A fellow neighbor had ran out and grabbed her taking her into the safety of his home.

Mabel felt her heart beat back to life as her sister left harms way.

She smiles as she sees the backhand from the caption come down upon her. Her family was safe, it didn't matter if she wasn't.

The rain had eased up but left the ground with pools of red mud. Without her hands to catch herself, Mabel fell face first into one.

"Give me the thing" The goblin looking man demanded. A hand held contraption similar to the one the medics used to give them their shot was handed over.

she screamed and kicked at him, wiggling her way backwards on the ground. Unsure of what he had planned to give her. She doubted it was a vaccinee against measles.

he scuffled with her, pulling up the cap of her sleave and releasing the medicine into her arm.

It took effect almost immediately. Her vision began to blur and head rang only for the moment it took for her to be lifted and placed upon the vans floor among the booted feet. She could see one mans loosened shoe laces before darkness over took her.

-----------

Coriolanus waits at the train station. Hiding from the rain inside the door frame of the carriage. His eyes rake across the platform. He was getting impatience.

he had half expected by the time he made the journey they would of had her waiting for him. Instead he was left to wait in the cold. It had remined him too much of lucy-grey.

He had tried to remain seated in the warmth of the carriage, but he was far to restless to be bothered by servants trying to please him. He didn't want cake. He didn't want a hot beverage. He didn't want their hands over him giving him a massage.

he wanted to take his girl and be on his way.

But he remembered what district 12 was like. A collection of useless no hopers. He would be glad to finally turn his back on the place for good. With Mabel by his side there would be nothing keeping him from erasing his history here all together.

He pulls his gloved tighter on his wrist, and closes his red large coat higher to his throat. District 12 only ever swayed between the extremes.

He had remembered how hot it was the day he and lucy grey set path to their new home.

Sweat had rolled down his neck to his back. His t-shirt clinging unkindly to him. He was carrying all the heavy things while Lucy-grey wondered before him, unbothered by weight.

He took it as a punishment. It allowed weak people to drag him down, as this weight now did.

"I've been thinking" He swats a mosquito on his neck, "It ain't only us who can tie the murder to me and you".

lucy-Grey spun around to him.

"that girl. The one who helped us escape after they found the bodies."

She had looked at him for a second while ushering him and Lucy-Grey out a side entrance. he remembered the spark that ran through him after finally being seen by her. He tore free from Lucy-grey's hand less she think he wasn't avaliable. But he doubt she saw it from how fast she closed the door. Her sweet voice telling peace keepers they had gone the other way.

"who? Mabel?".

Mabel. He finally had a name. He asked around the compound but no one knew. She washed and ironed uniforms, who cared what her name was. But he did, and he finally had it as he fled from her.

" we should turn back around and get her. Make sure she doesn't talk. Even if they don't find the guns, word of mouth's all they need to come after us".

"nu-uh Mabel wouldn't rat us out. Peace keeps would have caught us Covey foke long before they did if it hadn't been for her and her secret hiding places."

Secret hiding places? was that why she was so difficult to find when he had patrolling duty. He must have swapped ten or twelve times trying to find her amongst the sections.

"You said it yourself people are tortured for information here. We should get to her before they do".

Life in the woods with him wouldn't be too different from life in the districts for her. He would try and make it comfortable. Going fishing every morning for her, and brining back his game from hunting. They would settle down and have a fine little life. Lucy-Grey would find her baring in the woods and go her own way.

"You my man, Coriolanus?" She asks. Her voice was full of anger and questioning.

Not even remotely. He was her victor , she was his pawn. Still, she was his only hope of getting as far as he needed to go so he nestles up against her and takes her thumb between his forefinger and thumb.

"Of course I am".

He kisses her to avoid suspicion but it lacks any true passion.

It seemed to satisfy none the less.

"She won't tell and even if she does we'll be too far gone for them to catch us".

He pulls away, sour, and continues to lead their journey to the cabin. They would rest tonight and make ground tomorrow.

he spoused in the dead of the night it could be Mabel beneath him and not lucy grey. He could put meat on her bones to give her a fuller figures like Mabel's. Ensure that Lucy-grey keeps her long hair and perhaps convince her to put it back in a braid like Mabel kept hers.

In day light so long as Lucy-grey was not directly in his eye sight he could pretend that it was Mabel's hand he clung to.

he had resolved himself to a life of pretend by the time they reached the cabin. Only to find the key to his freedom underneath the floor boards.

He picks up the gun tenderly, eyeing it as if it would disappear.

'What is it?' Lucy-grey asks.

He turns around and shows her. She must have known she was done before Coriolanus did. she made a quick escape to go get Katniss while Coriolanus was still distracted by his freedom.

He had made a comment about rain and she had made one back but he wasn't sure that exacts. He had them which means he didn't have to give up his Mabel.

Unless Lucy-grey blind with jealousy turned him in. His eyes flick to the door. She had served her purpose but now had to be eliminated for his future.

he follows his champion into the woods. Calling out for her. She was a killer, but so was he.

"Lucy-Grey!" He calls, looking for any source of colour he could find.

He saw a pop of orange in the distance and headed for it. It was his mothers scarf. he huffs and puffs as he picks it up, Mabel wouldn't treat his mothers things like this.

A snake jumps out as he lifts it before it runs away to quick for Coriolanus to get a good look at it to see if it was poisons or not.

He lets out a wicked laugh. he was going to feel bad for killing her. It was not her fault she was in love, but now the only thing he would feel is satisfaction.

He punches the ground as the pain pluses up his arm.

"Was that poisonousness? are you tryin to kill me?' he calls out once more, "Lucy-Grey! I said are- you- trying -to- kill- me?'

he picks up his gun once more and begins to hunt. He needed to kill her fast so he could get back to the medical Centre. It wouldn't do to die just as he is winning.

Singing could be heard and he whips in its direction before the mocking jays picked it up. Soft footed he follows, pushing down large bush with his gun.

he must have spooked her as she took of running gaining his attention. He fired a shot, and he could see her stumble, possibly hit, but she kept running.

He took off after her, his heavy pointed gun slowing him down. he pushes through the forest to where he expected her to be laying and begging for her life but finds the spot empty.

She was there, he suspects bending down to pick up her earring, but now lost to the sounds of the forest and damn mocking jays.

He lets off the camber into the sky hopping to kill some of the birds to quiten the sound. He ran out of bullets before he could make a difference.

It didn't matter she wouldn't survive out here on her own, and she would be too smart to show her face in district 12 again with the mayor and now officer Coriolanus looking out for her. When he returned to base he could explain to commander Hoff that he followed a rebel into the forest where he was attacked by the snake. He would suggest that a fence be put up around the district so no other lesser peace keeper would die, and no better rebel could make it their base.

Then he would find where Mabel lived, and take her away with him.

The idea fueled his movements as he packed up the guns and sunk them in the water. But as he let go for them to sink, he realized all the holes in his plan.

Even if he could convince her to come to the station with him by a gun in her side, subdued with threats to her family. How would he convince Commander Hoff to let her on the train. Could he somehow sneak her on the train past the people. Would they allow him to bring a luggage so large to officer training. And even if he managed to get her to district 2 how would he keep her a secret.

No. He had to leave her. Wait until he plowed through officer training and got back to the Capital. From there he could figure out how to bring her to him.

It was a delight when Dr Gaul called him back to the Capital instead. He had wanted to angle himself into a higher position, perhaps finish university, before he made his move. But thoughts of her marrying, giving up what was his, plagued his mind.

He wasn't regretful as he stood out in the cold. It wasn't a lie when he told Dr Gaul she was effecting his work. It was hard to stay focused in University, and in his apprenticeship. The districts married young never knowing how much time they truly had left.

It was a dangerous place and Mabel was in habit of offering a helping hand to crook and traitors. It was best that she took her place beside him now. He would just have to learn how to juggle yet another thing.

he wouldn't have much time for her between work, university, the steep climb to the top, and keeping favor with the Plinths as they doted on him as a son. But Tigress and Grandma'am would keep her company within the walls of the Snow penthouse.

He still lived with them. kept under his watchful eye and protection. He could now offer them a life that the head of the Snow household should be able to offer. The least they could do was look after his girl while he was away.

He straightened up as a small commander and a handful of peace keepers make their way across the platform.

A large peace keeper carried a small girl in his arms. She was unconscious. Not what he had asked, but perhaps made it easier on all parties.

He jumps down from the carriage as they near. He could see her cheek was swollen and busied. Her brown hair stuck together with mud and twigs. Her skin is dirty, bare and covered in goosebumps from the cold.

Still he considered her beautiful.

"give her to me" He demanded, readying his arms to take her. Mabel is slipped into them. She dirties his suit but he doesn't mind.

"tell the Conductor we are ready to go".

With his strength he hauls them both up into the private carriage. He takes her to the booth and lays her down so her feet were by the window and her head was resting on his thigh.

He shoves off her gloves so he could unbutton his coat and rest the soft material over her. It was warm in the cabin but he could feel a slight shake of her soaked body.

The train takes off and pushes him slightly back into his seat from the force. Once it gained a steady pace, the servants rose from their compartments and entered the cabin to serve coffee and cake.

They left him at his request, and remained drinking coffee and eating treats with one hand while the other laid upon Mabel's shoulder.

He was sure once they reached home he would get a lot of good work done. It would be early morning by the time the train reached the station. By the time he got her home, tigress and Grandma'am would surely be awake and having breakfast.

Grandma'am would be no bother. From a young age she allowed Coriolanus to do as he pleased. But Tigress would inundate him with questions and demands. He wondered if she would still be sleeping at this point in time. he hoped she would. Feilding question from two angry women at once might be too much for him to bare.

Until that point he allowed himself to enjoy this time. He was sure it would be some time before he got Mabel quiet again. The silence allowed him to plan his week. Summer break was coming up which meant he all his assignments were due. The Pliniths had wanted him to come vacation with them but now that wasn't a possibility. He would have to make up a story of Grandma'am ill health.

He could see the sun peeking up, and knew they must be close. Going into a tunnel being surrounded by vast nothingness and emerging through the city Centre, Coriolanus knew he had gotten away with it. He had the money, the power, and now the girl. All that was left was presidency, and that was ever so fast flying into his reach with the help of Dr Gaul.

The train stops and announces its arrival. he picks her up, wrapped in his coat and jumps off the train before the servants could position the ramp.

he ignores their warm wishes and heads straight to his chaffeur waiting outside of the station. He again ignores any form of greeting as he enters into the car. The driver closes the door he was holding open, asking as he sat back in the drivers seat if home was the destination.

A simple yes and the car took off.

he held Mabel on his lap as they drove home. He could see the driver look back in his mirror and Coriolanus wanted to put the divider up between them but didn't want to take his hands off his Mabel to do so.

It wasn't a long drive home, and he found himself barking at his driver to hurry up and open his door. Despite what was awaiting for him at home.

With the elevator now restored, he didn't have to carry her up flights of stairs. It was too early for the residents to be up and heading to work but the quicker he got Mabel inside the more secure he felt that when time came he could sell her as a unknown recluse heiress without too much trouble.

His keys were in his pocket which he couldn't reach without letting her go. Instead his shoes kick the bottom of the door and tigress is quick to answer.

'Coryo! oh my god"

He pushes past her, heading across the room to where Grandma'am sat at the breakfast table.

'What happened? is she alright". Tigress follows him to where he stood.

"She looks district!" Grandma'am muttered with disgust.

Tigress Places her hand across Mable's forehead to check for fever. She had always done it to Coriolanus as a child.

He shifts her away from Tigress's touch. He wanted to be the one that looked after her, and if Tigress felt even a slight fever he would never be able to shoo her away.

"What happened?" she asked again, peering over his shoulder to the thankfully still unconscious girl.

"Let me put her down first, Tigress" Coriolanus demanded.

he walked past Grandma'am at the table who had resumed eating her breakfast, to his room. He kicks the door closed behind him and lies Mable on his bed.

She had dried but so had the mud. It cacked her dress and along her legs. She would need a good bath and Coriolanus would need new bed sheets but for the moment he settled for retrieving a warm wash cloth from his bathroom and rubbing the dirt from her face.

She stirred a little, and he thought for a second she would wake up to see him hovering over her with a rag in his hand. But she didn't.

He thought about kissing her after seeing her deep state, but she was covered in dirt. He wasn't entirely sure that his lips would even meet skin.

It was a good thing too. He had enough to explain to Tigress who would have busted into his room at the exact moment.

"Who is she?" Tigress whispered.

Coriolanus ignored her and began to take off Mabel's muddy boots. His long fingers undid the laces and pulled the shoe, throwing them across the room.

'Coriolanus!'

He strode over and took Tigress arm leading her back to the living room. He leaves the door open so he could hear if Mabel woke.

"She'll be staying with us for a while"

the rest of her life.

"Why?" a valid question that Coriolanus couldn't truthfully answer.

"I saved her. They were going to kill her in the districts" not a whole lie.

"But why bring her here? is she hurt?". Good hearted Tigress was going to be dreadfully upset when she found out the truth.

"She'll be staying here. And I need you, Tigress to be friend's with her. Look after her while i am away".

"I don't understand" She begins but is cut off.

"You don't need to understand. You just need to do as your told. Haven't I been good to you? Didn't I bring us from ruin to give you everything you deserved?".

"Yes, Coriolanus, but-"

"Do this for me, Tigress" he begs.

She looks up to him and sees her little cousin. Her darling, little cousin who she would do anything for.

"Okay, Coriolanus".

He kisses her cheek and lets her go.

"Coriolanus" his Grandma'am exclaimed, "You're clothes are filthy".

-------

Mabel wakes with a fright. She springs her body up upon the soft bed and panics. She could see high, well built buildings out of the window against blue skies. They had taken her to the capital.

She looks around the room to see the door wide open. She sprints to it running out and down the hall. Her bare feet slapping against the ground.

She skids along the floor to a halt having seen the three high members of society.

Coriolanus could only have thought of two worse times she could have woken up. He was hopping to get a few more hours to take his weekly meeting with Dr Gual and return home to complete his next assignment.

But she stood now in front of him with wild eyes. The Snows had taken to having tea in the living room.

Coriolanus dropped his cup down and rose to speak to her but she took it as a sign of aggression and lunged to take a cheese knife off the table.

Grandma'am shrieked at the sight.

'I don't want to hurt you" Mabel spoke.

"You don't need to. You're safe" Tigress consoles

"Where am I?" the girl asked in a hard voice.

'The capital" Coriolanus answered. It was the first thing he had ever said to her.

"I know that. Where in the Capital. The prison?".

"Take a look around you. Not much of a prison". Coriolanus takes a step froward and Mabel holds out her cheese knife.

The Avoxes had left the platter to enjoy as they drank their tea. Now Coriolanus wished he had thrown the board out after them.

"is that were I am heading?" .

Coriolanus doesn't answer but takes a step forwards.

"For heavens sake, Coriolanus. Stop, You're scaring the poor girl" Tigress rose also to regain her cousin but he was too far out to reach to grab without causing the girl to act rash.

"Coriolanus" his name sounded heavenly from her lips, "you take another step and i promise I'll dig this knife into your stomach".

"I am not going to hurt you" he promises.

'I might hurt you" Mabel retorts.

"Get her, Coriolanus!" grandma'am urges and he shudders at himself loosing what remained of his good guy image.

"You're not going to the Capital prison. Just give me the knife and we can have a cup of tea and talk about this".

He holds out his hand expectedly but she keeps grip of it.

"If not for the prison. What am I here for?"

That was a question he could not answer in front of his cousin and grandma.

He points to the kitchen area as if some one was there, 'Get her" he yells to no one.

Mabel stupidly looks giving Coriolanus a chance to get close enough to pin her to the wall. He lays his forearm against her chest, keeping her flat against the wall, using his other hand to clamp down upon her fingers, repeatedly hitting her hand against the wall until she lost grip of the knife.

He kicks it backwards across the floor. He can hear Tigress calling out to him and Grandam'am cheering.

But the fight wasn't beaten out of her yet. His proximity allowed her to bite down on his shoulder. Her bruised cheek no longer a concern or mystery for him.

He groans throwing her to the floor, where he promptly picked her up again before she could catch her breath. He wraps his arms around hers and pulls her to her feet, pushing behind her back to his room.

She kicks and wails in his arms, but she was a starving district girl and he was a well built man. He gets her there with little trouble and throws her to the ground over the doors threshold. She is hardly on her feet before he locked the door.

Tigress had followed him. He didn't notice until her hand went flat against the wooden door. Pressing against the noise of mabel's banging.

"You can't leave her like this".

"She made the choice. I was happy to leave her in the living room with you".

he takes tigress back to the living room once more pushing on the small of her back.

'i am late already. Make sure Grandma'am doesn't call any peace keepers, while i am gone".

"where are you going?" Tigress wraps herself around his arm as he walks to the door.

'i have to met with Doctor Gaul" he explains to Tigress, "leave her there. I'll get out as quick as I can, until I do Just leave her to kick and scream. She dangerous, Tigress. Do not try and open that door".

The only key to his room hangs on his key chain but tigress was a innovative women.

"She's only a girl" Tigress counteracts.

"A district girl!' grandma'am yells.

he turns to meet her gaze.

"I'll be home as soon as I can" He looks in his cousins eyes for defiance, "Can i trust you?".

"Of course" her loyalty lied with him.

"The door remains locked until I get home then".

He shrugs off her hold as he puts on one of his old coats, and runs out the building with dirty clothes on.

-----

"You're nearly an half an hour late, Mr Snow".

Dr Gaul was in the same position as yesterday. Digging into a poor animal, trying to manufacture it as it screams.

"I know". The driver who was weary after waiting all day and night yesterday was not on top of his game in getting Coriolanus here.

She eyes his dirty clothes under his coat. Nothing left unnoticed in her presence.

'i take it you got your girl after you left me yesterday"

"i did"

''And i take it she wasn't all that happy to see you".

Coriolanus felt slightly upset that she didn't seem to remember him from his peace keeping days. To be fair, it was Lucy-grey she was focused on. She loved music and dancing, coming to every gig and staying at the front the whole night while Coriolanus watched from the back. Maybe it was for the best. He could present himself as a new man.

"She was ecstatic".

Dr Gaul put down after tools, and the animal stop squealing dead.

"So that's happy blood soaking through your shirt"

Coriolanus looks to his injured shoulder to see it leaking blood. Her biting wasn't a warning.

he huffs out and squeezes his eyes shut annoyed.

"Give me todays assignment. I'll do it at home".

Dr Gaul rises from her chair and pushes his coat and shirt aside to examine the bite wound. He stands still and allows her to.

"No assignment today. You look like you've got your hands quite full".

She places a hand on his bit shoulder and he drops it away in pain.

Dr Gaul begins one of her horrid laughs.

"this one might survive you after all".

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

likes, reblogs and comments are more than welcome!

#coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #dark!coriolanus snow #tigris snow #hunger games #lucy gray baird

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dontyouworrydaddy · 10 months

Note

Can I request task force 141 plus konig how they would propose to you?

ᥴrᥲzყ for ყoᥙ

Task Force 141 (+ König) + gn! reader

AHHHHH my favorite YESSSS! I‘m so excited to write this I don’t even know why😭😭 I feel like Kyle and König would be the most romantic ones. Like they would just do way too much, especially Kyle🤭

I hope you like it! Love you!🩷

‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵

König

The sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the tranquil waters as a gentle breeze played with your hair. You stood on the deck of a small boat, your heart pounding with anticipation. König stood beside you, dressed impeccably in his tailored suit. It was just the two of you, surrounded by the beauty of the moment.

"König" you said softly, your voice filled with excitement and nerves. "This place is amazing. I can't believe you brought me here."

König smiled warmly at you, his eyes reflecting the fading sunlight. "I wanted to create a special memory for us, mein Schatz" he said, using your preferred pronoun. "And I have something important to ask you."

Your heart skipped a beat, the anticipation growing. König reached into his pocket and retrieved a small, velvet box. He took a deep breath, his hands slightly trembling.

"Y/N" he began, his voice filled with sincerity "you are the most incredible person I've ever met. You've shown me what love truly means, and I can't imagine my life without you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my partner, my equal in every way?"

Your breath caught in your throat, and tears welled up in your eyes. "König…" you whispered, "you don't even have to ask. Yes, a thousand times, yes!"

A mix of relief and joy washed over König's face as he opened the box, revealing a delicate ring. But in his nervousness, he forgot to kneel as is customary for a proposal. Realizing his oversight, he blushed furiously and stammered an apology.

"Oh fuck! I forgot to kneel," he exclaimed, flustered. "I'm so sorry, liebling. I wanted everything to be perfect and I got carried away."

You smiled, feeling overwhelmed with love for the man before you. "König, it doesn't matter," you reassured him. "This moment is perfect because it's us. Come here."

You stepped closer and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. König melted into your touch, his body relaxing against yours. The worries of perfection faded away as you held each other, cherishing the warmth and intimacy of the moment.

"I love you," König whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

"And I love you, König," you replied, your voice filled with emotion.

The boat gently swayed on the water as you stayed locked in each other's arms, reveling in the beauty of the moment. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a vibrant tapestry of colors across the sky, mirroring the emotions that swelled within your hearts.

In that embrace, you knew that together, you would face any challenge that came your way, supporting each other every step of the journey. And as the boat sailed into the twilight, you were filled with hope, knowing that your love would only grow stronger with each passing day.

Simon Riley

The ocean waves crashed against the shore, filling the air with a symphony of sounds. Simon stood in a lavish hotel room, nerves tingling in his chest. He had planned everything meticulously, wanting this moment to be perfect for you, the gender-neutral reader. Simon couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and anticipation as he waited for you to arrive.

The door creaked open, and you stepped into the room, a soft smile gracing your lips. Simon's heart skipped a beat as his eyes met yours, captivated by the warmth and love they held. His voice caught in his throat for a moment before he found the courage to speak.

"Hey baby" Simon said, his voice filled with affection. "I've been waiting for you." His gaze swept over you, taking in every detail as if he couldn't believe you were actually there with him.

A blush painted your cheeks, and you returned his smile. "I couldn't keep you waiting for too long, now, could I?"

Simon walked over to the large window, drawing back the curtains. Before you stood an awe-inspiring view of the vast ocean, its deep blue waters stretching as far as the eye could see. The setting sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink, creating a breathtaking backdrop for this special moment.

"I wanted to bring you here, to this beautiful place" Simon said, his voice filled with sincerity. "Because being with you feels like being swept away by the ocean's currents…powerful, unpredictable and undeniably breathtaking."

You watched him, your heart swelling with affection for the man who had become such an integral part of your life. The room was filled with an air of anticipation as Simon took a step closer to you, his eyes locked on yours.

"Y/N" Simon said, his voice filled with certainty, "you are the missing piece of my puzzle. You complete me in ways I never thought possible. And, well..." He took a deep breath, his hand reaching into his pocket. "I can't imagine my life without you. Will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my partner, now and forever?"

Time seemed to stand still as you looked into Simon's eyes, feeling the weight of his words and the depth of his emotions. A sense of pure joy bubbled within you, and a smile stretched across your face.

"Yes, Simon," you replied, your voice filled with love. "I would be honored to be your partner, now and forever."

As those words left your lips, Simon's face lit up with pure delight. He stepped closer, his hand trembling slightly as he slipped a beautiful ring onto your finger, a symbol of your commitment to one another.

In that moment, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the room. Simon's gaze never left yours as he closed the distance between you. His lips met yours in a gentle, passionate kiss, sealing the promise of a lifetime together.

John MacTavish

John had always been a man of action. He had faced countless dangers and seen the world in its darkest hours. But in the midst of all the chaos, he had found solace in the quiet moments, the times when he could be himself and share his heart with someone special. That someone special was you.

You had joined Task Force 141 not only for your skills but also for the family that had formed within the team. Among them, John had become a pillar of strength, a steadfast companion who had seen you for who you truly were.

One sunny day, the team found themselves on a much-needed vacation. The location was a picturesque beach, with crystal-clear waters and soft sand that stretched for miles. The team spread out, enjoying the tranquility and the opportunity to let go of the burdens of war.

You and John walked hand in hand along the shoreline, feeling the cool water gently wash over your feet. The breeze played with your hair, creating a sense of freedom and peace. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect moment.

John glanced at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and determination. He had been carrying something with him all day, waiting for the right moment to reveal his intentions. His heart pounded with nervous excitement, but he knew deep down that this was the right time.

With a mischievous grin, John led you away from the shoreline and toward a hidden spot adorned with seashells. There, laid out on the sand, was a massive heart made of delicate white petals. The heart was surrounded by flickering candles, their flames dancing in the soft ocean breeze.

You gasped, your heart swelling with emotion. John had gone to such lengths to create this beautiful scene, and it was clear what he wanted to ask.

Stepping closer to you, John took a deep breath, his voice filled with both confidence and vulnerability. "Y/N... You are my light in the darkest of times, my strength when I feel weak. I've seen the world through your eyes, and it's made me a better person. You've taught me the meaning of love, acceptance, and understanding."

Your eyes shimmered with tears, your heart overflowing with love for this incredible person standing before you.

John dropped to one knee, his hand reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a small box, opening it to reveal a sparkling ring nestled inside. The sun caught the diamonds, sending shimmering reflections cascading onto the sand.

With a trembling voice, he asked, "Will you, my love, marry me and make me the happiest man alive?"

Your heart soared, and tears streamed down your face as you nodded vigorously, unable to find words to express the depth of your love and happiness.

John’s face broke into a radiant smile, and he slipped the ring onto your finger, sealing the promise of a lifetime together. In that moment, the beach seemed to hold its breath, as if the world itself was celebrating this profound bond.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the horizon, you and Soap held each other tightly, basking in the joy and certainty of a future filled with love, adventure, and unbreakable bonds. And together, you embarked on a new journey, ready to face whatever challenges the world might throw your way, knowing that as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything.

John Price

John stood nervously in the center of a candlelit room, his heart pounding in his chest. He had planned this moment meticulously, wanting everything to be perfect for the person who held his heart. The soft glow of the candles danced on his face, casting a warm light as he awaited the arrival of the love of his life - you.

The door creaked open, and your eyes widened at the sight before you. The room was adorned with flowers, twinkling lights, and a table set for two. You took a step forward, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of John, looking incredibly dapper in a suit that emphasized his rugged charm.

"John?" you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you took in the scene. "What is all this?"

John's eyes softened as he took a step towards you, his voice filled with affection. "This, my love, is a reflection of my feelings for you. You bring light into my world, and I wanted to create a moment that captures the depth of my love and devotion."

His words sent shivers down your spine, and you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. John reached out, gently taking your hand in his, and led you to the beautifully set table. You both settled into your seats, and as you looked around, you noticed a small box placed in front of your plate.

"I-I didn't expect all of this," you managed to say, your heart fluttering. "It's so... wow."

John smiled warmly, his eyes shining with love. "You deserve nothing less than the grandest gestures, my love. You have transformed my life, and I want to spend the rest of my days making you feel cherished."

With bated breath, you opened the small box and found a delicate, sparkling ring nestled inside. Your breath hitched as you realized what was happening, and tears welled up in your eyes. John rose from his seat, a mixture of anticipation and love etched on his face.

"You" he began, his voice filled with emotion, "have brought joy, laughter, and an overwhelming sense of love into my life. I can't imagine my world without you. Will you do me the honor of being my partner, my love, my everything?"

A sob escaped your lips as you nodded, your heart bursting with happiness. "Yes, John! YES!"

Cheers erupted in the room as John slid the ring onto your finger, sealing the moment with a tender kiss. Embracing each other tightly, you couldn't help but let your tears flow freely, overcome with the beauty and significance of the moment. John held you close, his strong arms providing comfort and reassurance.

"My love" he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to your emotions. "These tears are a testament to the love we share. I promise to always be here for you, to support you through thick and thin, and to cherish every moment we have together."

As you stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, you couldn't have asked for a more perfect proposal. The room seemed to disappear, leaving only you and John, immersed in a sea of love and tenderness.

Kyle Garrick

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the city of Paris, Kyle felt his heart race with excitement. He couldn't wait any longer to ask the person he loved most in the world to spend the rest of their lives together. Kyle had planned the perfect evening for you wanting to make this moment unforgettable.

Taking a deep breath, Kyle stood in front of the iconic Eiffel Tower, its iron lattice soaring into the sky. The romantic atmosphere of the city enveloped them, setting the stage for a love story to unfold. You dressed in a stunning outfit that matched the beauty of the surroundings, couldn't help but feel the anticipation in the air.

Kyle walked up to you, a sparkle of love in his eyes. "Y/n" he said, voice filled with both nervousness and excitement, "I've spent every moment with you, cherishing every laugh, every adventure and every dream we've shared. I can't imagine my life without you by my side."

He took your hand gently, placing his other hand over his heart. "My love" he continued, his voice quivering with emotion, "will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?"

As the words left his lips, a mixture of joy and surprise washed over you. Tears of happiness welled up in your eyes, and you nodded, speechless. Kyle beamed, slipping a beautiful ring onto your finger.

The couple basked in the magic of the moment before Kyle took your hand and led you on a romantic adventure through the enchanting streets of Paris. Each stop held a special memory, and at every location, Kyle would lean in and press his lips against yours, savoring the sweetness of the kiss and reaffirming the depth of his love.

At the Louvre, beneath the watchful beautiful paintings, Kyle's kiss was tender and filled with longing. At the Seine River, the sound of water lapping against the quayside provided the perfect background music for a passionate kiss, reflecting the love that flowed between you both.

As you strolled through the charming streets of Montmartre, Kyle paused near a quaint café. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm croissants filled the air, making the atmosphere even more magical. He leaned in, his lips meeting yours once again, this time a gentle and lingering kiss filled with promises for the future.

As the night grew darker, Kyle led you to the Pont des Arts, a bridge adorned with love locks, symbolizing the everlasting bond you both shared. With the twinkling lights of the city reflecting in the water below, he held you close, pressing his lips against yours with a mix of tenderness and desire. In that moment, it felt as if time had stopped, and it was just the two of you, lost in the embrace of love.

The night ended at the steps of the Sacré-Cœur, where the breathtaking view of Paris stretched out before you. As the moonlit city glimmered below, Kyle pulled you into a passionate kiss, sealing the evening with a declaration of love that echoed through the ages.

Wrapped in each other's arms, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of pure love and happiness. In that moment, Paris, the city of lights, became the backdrop for the beginning of your lifelong journey together…a journey filled with love, laughter, and cherished memories.

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nahoney22 · 10 months

Note

I would be eternally grateful if you would write GN(afab)!reader/tech NSFW with the prompt:

“aren’t you tired?” “i’m fine. don’t worry about me.”

I love your work!!!

3000 Prompt List Celebration

Tech X GN(afab)!Reader

word count: 1.5k

NSFW

prompt:

“Aren’t you tired?” • “I am fine. Don’t worry about me.”

warnings: NSFW. 18+ only. Smut, established relationship, soft sex, Tech is sexually frustrated. They/Them pronouns but female genitalia. Creampie. Praise. Swearing.

authors note: I can only apologist for the delay. Thank you for the support always. @dangraccoon

Times have been incredibly difficult for all of you. The Empire's relentless pressure has forced you to flee and seek safety wherever possible, leading to uncomfortable sleeping arrangements and living situations.

The Marauder, though far from ideal for more than five people to live on, serves as a refuge to keep everyone safe. Amidst all this, you've noticed that Tech, your other half, appears particularly burdened. Fatigue has taken a toll on his once bright eyes, and his demeanor has grown more irritable. While you suspected these changes were due to the challenging circumstances, a part of you suspects something deeper.

You’re about to enter the cockpit when you hear some hushed voices from ahead and upon closer inspection, you realise you were the topic of conversation.

“I don’t want to bother them with my problems.” Tech replies to who you assumed was Wrecker due to his booming voice.

“If you don’t tell them, they will pick up on your issue anyway.”

Curiosity piqued, you decide not to eavesdrop any longer and step into the cockpit, hands on your hips, standing behind the two clones. "What's going on?"

Tech swiftly turns to face you, while Wrecker, clearing his throat, claims he needs to prepare for assisting the others with a task—a half-truth he seizes upon to evade an uncomfortable conversation.

"Oh, darling, you're here," Tech remarks, blinking at you, prompting you to raise an eyebrow and tilt your head to the side.

"Yeah, I've been here for the last nine months," you tease, albeit with a hint of seriousness, as you observe him growing visibly uncomfortable in his seat.

You scrutinise him and fold your arms over your chest. "Tech, are you alright?"

"What makes you think otherwise?" he asks before adjusting his collar and clearing his throat.

You pause, watching him intensely before moving to sit opposite him where Wrecker once sat. "Well, for the past few days, you've been a bit on edge. You look exhausted," you state, cutting to the chase without beating around the bush.

He clears his throat again, tugging at his uniform collar once more. "Lack of sleep seems to be a prevailing issue these days, but I must say I don't feel tense, as you suggest."

"Uh-huh?" you respond skeptically, unconvinced by his answer. "Then what were you and Wrecker talking about?"

"Darling-"

"Tech, tell me," you interject, refusing to listen to his denials that everything is fine when it's evident that something is amiss, and your concern is growing.

He lets out a dejected sigh, knowing you won’t back down from this. So rising from his seat and closing the cockpit door, he turns to you.

"The reason I've been so tense is that I haven't been getting enough sleep, that ouch is true. And neither has anyone else, for that matter," he confesses, shaking his head. Your sympathetic smile encourages him to continue.

"But the main reason for my current state is because I am sexually frustrated."

You blink, taken aback by his admission. Part of you assumes he must be joking, but the seriousness etched on his face tells a different story. As your gaze scans his figure once more, you notice his hand moving lower, revealing his painfully aroused state.

"Oh, honey, why didn't you just say so?" you respond, standing up and slowly approaching him. With your left hand, you gently cup his cheek, looking into his eyes.

"All you had to do was ask. I am yours remember? Always." You say, a light laugh escaping your lips. He chuckles too, reaching up to hold your hand against his cheek, giving it a soft squeeze.

"You're right," he acknowledges matter-of-factly. "We've been too consumed by everything going on and far too preoccupied to engage in any sexual activity anyway."

You still, genuinely unable to recall the last time the two of you were intimate. He's correct; both of you have been exhausted and burdened with worries. Additionally, the cramped confines of the Marauder hardly provide the ideal setting for such… activities.

An idea swiftly enters your mind, and a mischievous spark illuminates your gaze. "When are we all supposed to go on that mission?" you inquire, looking up at him through your lashes, a flirtatious glint in your eyes.

"In approximately thirty-seven minutes," he responds, intrigued by the look in your eyes.

You let out a hum of amusement and slide your hands around the back of his neck, drawing yourself closer to him. "Why don't you and I stay behind? We can claim that we need to...uh...fix something together," you suggest with a suggestive wag of your eyebrows, feeling the heat rise within you at the mere thought of having some intimate time alone with Tech.

He raises an eyebrow, pondering your proposition as he pinches his chin in thought. "I suppose that's something we can arrange. Although I must warn you, Wrecker will undoubtedly figure out what we're up to."

"So what?" you shrug, dismissing any concerns. "Sex shouldn't be considered taboo."

A smile spreads across Tech's face, the weariness in his eyes replaced by a flicker of desire. His arousal intensifies, evident in his pants. "I will talk to Hunter immediately," he asserts, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on your lips before exiting the cockpit. His purpose is clear—to secure some precious alone time with you.

Anticipation bubbles within you as you eagerly await the rendezvous. This intimate encounter is undoubtedly something you are eagerly looking forward to.

Despite the knowing looks from Wrecker as the others left, you and Tech were finally left alone.

Finding yourselves alone in the cozy confines of the cockpit, your bodies are entwined. With you straddling his lap, your legs on either side, the intensity of your passionate kissing leaves both of you breathless, your ragged breaths mingling in the air.

You press your body against his, moving in a tantalising rhythm and grinding down on his crotch which elicits soft moans that blend into the passionate exchange.

Each sound he pours into your mouth fuels the fire within you, igniting a shared desire that has been building up for far too long. Breaking the kiss momentarily, you whisper against his lips, your voice filled with longing, "I can't believe we're finally alone. It's been too long." As his fingers dig into your hips, you melt further into his embrace.

He stands, lifting you at the same time before walking towards the ship's control panel and placing you on top. His lips trace your jaw all the while your hand palms over his pants, rubbing at his throbbing erection that had been hidden away for too long.

“I am going to treat you so right, darling.” He grunts under your touch and a small smirk plays on your lips.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“I am fine, don’t worry about me.” He chuckles, sliding your shift off your shoulders and sighs heavenly at the sight of your nude and beautiful skin. “Like I could ever be too tired for you, anyway.”

You wanted to hit back with a remark but instead you let out a soft moan as his lips latched to one of your stiffening nipples, tongue flicking expertly over it. Your head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed as tingles shoot all over your body.

Soon enough, you’re both naked and Tech wastes no time in spreading your legs, lining his cock up with entrance before slowly pushing inside of you, almost bottoming out immediately at the sensation. “You’re positively soaked, darling.” He rasps, hands holding your thighs apart as he watches his cock slick up with your arousal, slowly moving in and out of you.

You hiss due to it being a while since you last had sex with him and with every slow penetration, you could feel him stretching you. “Tech,” you whimper, legs threatening to close despite how good it felt but he kept them open until he place each leg over his shoulder and rocks his hips back and forth.

“That’s it darling, you’re doing so well. Us having intercourse is much needed to release -ugh fuck - tensions.” He sighs, eyes locked on your eyes until he watches the rise and fall of your chest with every thrust he planted into you.

Your back scraped against every button, switch and lever but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to just love him like you always did. Eventually, your legs slip off from his shoulders and you’re being spun around, bent over and taking his soft thrusts from behind. He leans over your back, kissing along your spine and even planting gentle love bites to your shoulder.

Non-surprisingly, your intimate endeavor was shortened than usual as his grunts became more frequent, thrusts becoming staggered and labored as he whispers words of appraisal into your ear.

Your needy cries of ecstasy spurred him on until he couldn’t last no longer, his climax hitting and releasing his long-awaited pleasure into you until he fell forward, chest to your back.

When he pulls out of you, both of your legs are shaky but he pulls you to him, hugging you close as both of you control your breathing. “I think it is safe to say that I believe I will get a good rest this evening. ” He smiles warmly, cheeks a little warm from finishing earlier than he would usually but you didn’t mind at all.

It was what you both needed. “Me too, sweetheart.”

Prompt List Works

Masterlist

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka a @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone e @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @imalovernotahater @sleepycreativewriter @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd d @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @fantasyproductions

#bad batch tech x gn reader #bad batch tech x reader #tech x reader #queued post #nahoney22 writes #tbb tech #bad batch tech

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honey-tongued-devil · 2 years

Text

↞[arcane preference] with s/o wet due to rain↠

▶[Jayce, Viktor, Ekko, Marcus, Silco, Vander, Singed, Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Sevika] with s/o wet due to rain (and a bit sad)

I know you missed me <3 I’ve almost finished the exams of this session, so I can write more! I’ve seen some authors join challenges where they write one scenario a day and I’d like to do something similar, in case you have prompt you can dm it to me!

(While I was writing it took a particular meaning, so I specify that in some points is the reader is a little sad/ melancholy)

↠No use of "y/n", gender neutral reader (no pronouns for the reader) ↠TW: fluff?, Sfw ↠Character/s: gn reader, Jayce, Viktor, Ekko, Marcus, Silco, Vander, Singed, Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Mel, Sevika

↠If you have any requests, ask the devil.↞

【Jayce】

The rain doesn’t bother Jayce too much, at least when he’s the one getting soak to the bone.

But when you knock on the door of his dorm room, he casts his eyes in disbelief.

He pulls you into the room quickly, raising the temperature of the thermostat.

makes you sit and offers something warm as he goes to prepare the bath, putting clean towels and his clothes on hand.

If they’re too wide, it’s not a problem, he’ll just look away and shrug, his ears flushing. Clearly, his neurons stopped working on that view.

When you come back from the bathroom you find him busy preparing the bed by putting extra pillows and plaids.

will make you find food, no matter if it is junk food or vegetable broth arranged in that little time, the important thing is that you completely recover

"I thought if you’ve been out in the rain so long it’s because something didn’t go right and... uhm..."

obviously worried, but he won’t force you to talk about it. If you’ve actually just caught the downpour, he’ll give you a lecture about bringing always an umbrella and how health is important

If you actually have something upsetting you, he will just caress the back of your neck

will hold you close if you do not want to talk about it, so that you feel that you are not alone.

【Viktor】

You probably don’t even have to reach him.

Both in the courtyard of the academy soaked to the bone, hair stuck to the face.

on the one hand you are two idiots, on the other the feeling of loneliness, the smell of petrichor, the rain that seems to wash away the problems relaxes you

You go back to the dorm together, arm in arm because of the slippery ground

I can’t really tell what’s the reason, but taken by an unjustified euphoria, mixed with the fact that no one sees you, you would even sing off-key some notes of "Loverboy" to Viktor, who would barely hold a giggle.

It is said that not all evils come to harm, and showering together is proof of this.

It doesn’t have to result in something more, it’s a simple way to replicate the feeling of raindrops on the skin without getting sick.

You enjoy a bit the feeling, a bit the intimacy that is created by gently passing your fingers in each other’s hair.

After the ritual shower you are together wrapped in blankets, talking about more and less with your eyes closed: the exams, the hextech, some embarrassing scene of Jayce happened in the day, up to fall asleep in that position

lulled by the sound of the storm, muffled by the closed glass

【Ekko】

He doesn’t love the rain, but in his defense it is both an obstacle when you move with the hoverboard, both the rain of zaun is so acidic to be almost corrosive.

The first instinct to see you come back to the firelights soaking wet would be to scold you: he is worried, he didn’t see you return to base, he had feared the worst.

Once he gets past the initial reaction, he’ll make fun of you. Look at you, you look like a drowned rat.

he would bring you a warm clothes change and approach you, rubbing the back of your head with a towel partly to remove water from your hair, partly to get a smile out of you.

a quick check to see if you got hurt, ready to medicate you in case, before getting told in detail what you were doing out there, if you saw or did something and how it went.

He would not be too apprehensive, the rain is annoying but it is the least.

But he’s empathetic enough to know if you’ve been taken aback by the sudden rain or if you needed to be alone with yourself.

"Ya know… if something goes wrong you can tell me ‘bout it, if not as a partner at least as a member of this community. We solve problems together. There is no "stupid" or "not serious" problem, if something hurts you"

He’s not one to talk too sentimental, but in these cases he prefers to put aside his character and remind you that you’re not alone

and that if you do not have an umbrella you can stand in two under the same

【Silco】

When you enter his office dripping wet, he looks up from the documents only to raise his brows, before looking back at the pieces of paper, waiting for an explanation.

He is not indifferent to the fact that you are shaking like a leaf, but in his gaze it’s implied a scolding: you should have repaired yourself or should not have gone out at all.

If you don’t feel like explaining yourself, Silco’d just sigh and put the documents in a desk drawer, getting up to go get a plaid hot enough to make you stop shaking.

But he doesn’t wrap you in it or give it to you directly, he walks instead to return sitting on his throne

He places the blanket in such a way that he wrap you when you go to sit on his lap, holding you. It is about respecting the spaces, if you want physical comfort you can hide in his arms, otherwise you can only take the blanket.

Plus, you can take your time.

he would turn on the gramophone, letting the low volume music fill the room.

He doesn’t talk, you already know everything you need to know. He gently runs his fingers through your wet hair until you fall asleep, wrapping you up better.

"Sometimes it’s good for us to carve out a corner of the world for ourselves, to be alone with our thoughts. But don’t overdo it, health is a precious gift."

his lips whisper these words softly against your temple.

He does not mind the rain, the noise relaxes him, so would take advantage of it to stay for a while in intimacy tight in that position, lulled by the notes that fill the air and by the drops of water on the green window

【Marcus】

He wouldn’t really know how to act, he wouldn’t spontaneously do anything other than ask you explicitly if everything’s okay and what he can do.

He’s a simple man: if you tell him to get the tub ready, he does. If you tell him to make a seat for you at the table, he is already in the kitchen.

he’s not stupid, he just doesn’t know what you feel do to and what you don’t, so he shows his concern in helping you the exact way you need help.

If he has already eaten, he will still sit at the table with you, perhaps peeling a fruit while you are busy eating a hot meal.

And he is going to tell you about his day, about the child, about how the Kirammans are giving him white hair.

"You know Marcus, they kinda suit you well. White hair I mean"

He looks up at you before spreading his lips in an idiot smile that never fails to put you in a good mood

"Then I’ll be working overtime for that family. Double shift tomorrow, definitely."

Maybe he doesn’t have loud reactions or exaggerations, but that normality that permeates the room when you’re alone with him makes you feel safe.

When you start eating the fruit, he stands up and disappears into the bedroom.

You are going to find extra pillows and candles, just to create a small corner for you two

【Vander】

The sigh that comes out of his lips is worth more than a hundred words.

He makes you sit at the counter and prepares you a hot drink, something to warm you up with before he crosses his arms.

"So? You don’t have to tell me anything?" can be a little intimidating, but you know he’s just worried. You imagine that he waited for you with anxiety, that he is worried about you and how you feel.

He knows you’re grown and independent, but he still feels responsible for everything that happens in the lanes, and you also know for sure he was ready to blame himself if anything happened to you.

In case it was just a shower, a second sigh would follow, this time to lighten the chest.

he smiles at you tired but full of love. "One day you’ll scare me to death like this"

If you want to talk instead Vander is a great listener, would remain silent and would take some time to answer you, so that he actually looks for a solution or an adequate answer and not just being polite.

very apprehensive, he is the father of four children after all. Once he’s done cleaning the inn, he’ll carry you in his room, cuddling and covering you in attention.

Being in bed together, covered, while he hugs you from behind is the closest thing you can get to heaven

【Singed】

He wouldn’t be too worried, but you can’t blame him, he’s used to things worse than two drops of water.

He’d look up at you, moving his gaze away from his bakers and test tubes to make sure everything is okay, making room for you next to him.

"Something wrong?" the voice is hoarse and low, almost relaxing in its uniqueness.

he puts his vest on your back to cover you as much as possible to warm you up a bit and take off with his thumb a few drops of rain caught between your eyelashes

You know he’s working and he’s busy, and that attention he gives you while his hands are extracting the drug is enough to make you smile.

From time to time he caresses your cheek, while your head rests leaning against the work surface, with the back of his hand, as if to tell you that he is not ignoring you.

You take the opportunity to close your eyes and rest a bit, trying to focus on the noise of glass and the metal that gently clinks.

"Will you tell me about it?"

After a while he stops and looks at you, devoting all his attention to you.

He’s not a talkative man, but he’s a man of science. And when he puts everything on the table, leaning his back against the wall to be able to look at you better you know that he is expressing how important you are.

【Jinx】

perplexed, but amused

"awww, did you go for a walk in the rain?"

It is not a problem if you make the floor wet, but she gives you a signal to not to approach the stationary shovels that act as a bridge to avoid unpleasant accidents.

A lot of questions about why you were out, what the rain was like today, what it tasted like.

She feels enthusiastic even though her fingers are busy tightening bolts and attaching cables.

When you crouch on the sofa next to the creepy dummy, she turns to look at you, you can’t tell the expression, but she throws the device into the void, letting it explode as she approaches.

She doesn’t ask questions, she’s the first one who doesn’t know how to express what’s going on. Jinx just bends over so her face is lower than you, hands on her knees, and tilts her head as she looks into your eyes.

And she is so tender in that moment that you wish you could take a picture of it.

She takes old clothes or rags and sits on your lap, wiping your hair with a playful act, similar to what her sister did with her when they came back from a mission drenched to the bone.

You can’t help but smile as you see her concentrated expression, her incisors exposed by her lips and her tongue between her teeth

She is not good at words, her comfort is physical contact. She would remain embraced by you playing carelessly with your clothes

【Vi】

If it’s her standing in the rain, there’s no problem. She also enjoys the feeling of the rain on her skin as if it could wash away all the guilt she has taken.

But the moment you’re soaking wet, the situation changes.

Vi takes off her leather jacket to put it on your head while you run for shelter, and j

keeps an eye on you, ready to support you if you lose your balance because of the wet roads.

found a shelter keeps you to herself, makes you lean with the head on her shoulder and carelessly stokes your waist

from time to time she takes your hands between of hers and blows on them to warm them up, waiting for the rain to diminish before going home.

holds you closer to herself when she hears thunder or the light of lightning fills the shelter, an instinct that has not lost and probably will never lose.

Once you’re home, she’ll make you undress immediately to wash your clothes, no matter how much you try to reassure her that you’re okay or that you don’t need to, she’ll just give you a scolding look before continuing.

She’s a hundred percent quiet type to cuddle in bed while the storm is raging outside.

If you’re afraid she holds you, falling asleep holding your hand

【Sevika】

She is the first to come home always wet or dirty, so she probably wouldn’t even notice

but as soon as he sees the clothes sticking to your skin she frowns perplexed

"Did you want to take a shower?"

She throws you a towel or something with which you can take the damp off you while she carries an ashtray, two glasses and a bottle of liquor on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

She comes from an environment where you cannot be weak in any way, and everything that is not about something concrete is out of her reach

Sevika sits down and makes room for you on the sofa.

If you’ve just been caught unprepared by the bad weather you drink and talk about more and less, while a hand on your thigh rubs it loosely.

But if something bothers you, she won’t force you to talk about it. Silence isn’t awkward, it’s just an intimate way of communicating.

And if the alcohol makes you want to tell her what’s wrong she will listen to you in religious silence staring at the amber liquid in the glass; she does not touch neither cigarettes nor liquor until you are finished

bonus: if you tell her that someone has wronged you, don’t worry that the rain will not stop her from getting up immediately to go and... “talk to them”.

【Mel】

As soon as you show up wet as a drowned rat, she call off the servants, telling them to prepare a hot bath, dinner and the bedroom.

You see her thinning her eyes and crossing her arms to her chest, looking like she’s waiting for an explanation.

It’s not as hard as it may seem, in her work she learned that you have to first assess the situation well and then act accordingly,

for this reason she wants to understand if it was just carelessness (and turn a homicidal look that will make you burst out laughing because you know that she behaves like this because she loves you)

or if there was a problem.

You see her play imperceptibly with her ring, she knows she can always be little present and the fear of making you feel neglected or not enough consumes her, but she cannot show it or say it explicitly.

It must be said that he is not a person who accepts not receiving answers, if Mel understands that you do not want to talk about what happened she softens the tone approaching, a hand on your cheek precedes her lips, her warm breath on your skin.

She’d find a way to get you to talk, more than out of curiosity because she needs to know if it’s a problem she can solve it.

she would feel guilty anyway, because she did not notice before the fact that you were having troubles, regardless of whether the problem concerns her or not

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mortal-kombatants · 1 year

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Hi! Can I ask for Kuai Liang and Hanzo headcanons, where the reader feels insecure because think they might like someone with good fighting skills (and the reader is completely unaware of this), but they are so nice and cute on their own, that those two are already in love with them?

Good luck growing your blog!

Thanks for the ask and encouragement!!

Instead of going for the "nice and cute" thing, I didn't specify personality traits

Also, Hanzo's probably doesn't seem as romantic as Kuai Liang's does because I usually headcanon him as aroace, so writing him romantically was a challenge, but I tried my best.

Also, since this is a specific scenario, it's a little shorter, so sorry about that

GN!reader, no pronouns used

Kuai Liang/Sub-zero

He doesn't really try to hide the fact that he's in love with you. It's just that he's really bad at showing his own emotions; he does his best, but it usually doesn't end up being enough.

He does think that he shows his love for you well, despite the fact that he can be cold at times without meaning to be, which is what leads you to believe he doesn't care about you.

He spends more time training than with you, so you think that he would prefer someone he could spar with.

When you end up confronting him (because you'll have to do it first), he's immediately apologetic, which doesn't make you feel any better. Once he notices, he tries to explain.

He takes your hands and tells you exactly how he feels about you, just every thought he's ever had.

To your surprise, he didn't have anything bad to say — there wasn't anything even remotely critical.

He talks about all of his favorite things about you, from your appearance to your personality, which ends up just being him talking about you

He only stops talking because you make him. First you tried verbally, but he ignored you and kept going, so you kiss him, which does make him stop

"Do you understand now? I love you."

Hanzo Hasashi/Scorpion

This man is so clueless when it comes to emotions, both yours and his own. It took him what may have been months for him to realize he liked you.

Because of this, he doesn't immediately notice that you has become withdrawn. When he does notice, though, he talks with you about it as quickly as he could.

When you tell him about your insecurity, his first response was "Why?" Because him making an offhand comment about wanting a new sparring partner shouldn't have been able to make you think he didn't like you.

At your expression being more upset, he tries to reassure you.

He tells you how much he likes seeing you do your hobbies, even if he didn't share them. He likes seeing you happy while doing them, and he wouldn't rather have anything else.

"I love you for you, and I don't expect you to change yourself for me. I would never want that from you."

#mortal kombat #hanzo hasashi #kuai liang #mk11 #sub zero #headcanons #quill writes #mk x reader #gn reader #sub-zero x reader #scorpion x reader #hanzo hasashi x reader #kuai liang x reader

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bloomingdayswithyou · 9 months

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Hey can you maybe write the Om! Brothers (any you want) with a transmasc reader who is really dysphoric? If not that's fine!! Have a nice day :3

Beel, Mammon and Lucifer with a transmasc reader

Pairing: Beelzebub, Mammon and Lucifer x trans m!reader (separated)

Topics: gender dysphoria, kinda fluff??

Warning: I used he/him pronouns, if you want me to change them please let me know!! Also I made it more as a platonic/friendship but I think it can also be interpreted as a romantic relationship<3

Author’s note: hi!! I just picked my top 3 brothers, if you want anyone else you can request anytime🩷

Beelzebub:

I feel like Beel has a naturally caring and empathetic personality. When he notices that m/n is feeling dysphoric, he becomes determined to uplift his spirits.

He would go out of his way to create a comforting environment, where m/n can feel safe and understood.

Beel might gently offer to cook his favorite meals, knowing that food can bring comfort during difficult times.

While sharing a meal together, he’d listen to m/n’s thoughts and emotions, offering a sympathetic ear without judgment.

When m/n expresses his struggles with dysphoria, Beel would assure him that he is valid and deserving of love and acceptance.

With a warm smile, Beel would remind m/n of the positive aspects of his identity, highlighting the unique qualities that make him special.

He might share anecdotes of his own self-discovery and acceptance, assuring them that it’s okay to have ups and downs during the journey.

Beel’s genuine support would offer m/n a sense of belonging and a reminder that he is valued for who he is.

Mammon:

His reaction to m/n’s dysphoria might be uncertain.

However, once he understands the depth of their struggle, he would make a determined effort to show his unwavering support.

Mammon might stumble over his words at first, but he would want to let m/n know that he sees them as who they truly are, regardless of dysphoria. He’d use his preferred name and pronouns consistently, even correcting himself if he makes mistakes.

To help m/n feel more at ease, Mammon might plan fun outgoing or activities where he can temporarily escape his worries.

He’d encourage him to participate in games, laughing and enjoying themselves to distract from dysphoric thoughts.

Whenever he needs a boost, Mammon would shower him with compliments and reassurance, telling him how much he matters and how proud he is of his resilience.

As m/n’s trust in him grows, Mammon would offer to accompany him when he wants to explore his gender identity further. He’d be there to lend a listening ear and provide emotional support, understanding that everyone’s journey is unique and dysphoria doesn’t define his worth.

Lucifer:

Lucifer’s initial approach to m/n’s dysphoria would be to offer understanding and guidance.

He would create a space where m/n can express his feelings openly and honestly, without judgment.

Lucifer would research and educate himself about transmasc experiences, wanting to be well-informed and supportive. When discussing dysphoria, he would be patient and empathetic, encouraging m/n to articulate his emotions without feeling rushed.

Understanding the sensitivity of the topic, Lucifer would choose his words carefully, always using m/n’s preferred name and pronouns.

He would validate his feelings and remind him that dysphoria is a natural part of the journey, emphasizing that it doesn’t diminish his identity.

To help m/n cope with dysphoria, Lucifer might suggest various grounding techniques or relaxing exercises. He’s offer his assistance in finding resources if m/n needs them.

In moments of vulnerability, Lucifer would be a pillar of support, offering a comforting presence and a listening ear. He’d remind m/n that he has the strength to overcome challenges and that he’s there to assist him in any way possible.

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me x male reader #obey me mammon #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me lucifer #mammon x reader #mammon x male reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer x male reader #beel x reader #beel x male reader #obey me fanfic #obey me x mc

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vergilthelibrarian · 1 year

Text

Yandere!JisungxGN!Reader (I wrote this with the reader being male in mind but I didn’t use any pronouns for the reader)

Also, I’m thinking about do a little challenge to force me to write more. My idea are fics of the dreamies based on the 7 deadly sins and maybe even the 7 heavenly virtues and both will be yandere. So yeah lol

Jisung scowled as he heard that word leave your lips.

Friend

Why did his heart stung whenever you would call him your friend?

He knew why though, it’s just that he didn’t want to admit it. He was too afraid to.

Love wasn’t something Jisung knew a lot about.

Mind you, he wasn’t naive.

He’s a very flirty guy and he took of advantage of his deep voice, good looks and his tall height to get whatever he wanted.

Yet when it came to you, you saw pass all of that.

Hell, you didn’t baby him like most even though you were only a year older than him.

You were different and he liked that.

But that’s the thing, he thought it was just a ‘like’ kind of thing, not a ‘love’ kind of thing.

Maybe he fell for you without even realizing it…

“Jinsung are you listening?”

“Y-yeah! Yeah.” He snapped out of his thoughts.

“Okay. Tell me what I was talking about.”

Jisung’s mind went blank as he stuttered over the phone causing you to laugh.

God… do your laugh always sound this beautiful?

He began laughing along with you out of embarrassment.

Was your laugh always this infectious too?

“I said that you should come to the museum with me next week. I wanna look at Ancient Greek artifacts.”

“Oh yeah. You’re majoring in Ancient Greek studies right?”

“Yeah.” And Jisung smiled as he heard the smile in your voice.

“I love my major a lot. I don’t know what job I’ll get with my degree but at least I’ll know a dialect of Ancient Greek by the end of it.” You laughed.

“Do you know what you can do with it?” He asked, leaning to where he was half resting on the wall and half resting on his bed.

“Oh, I do. I just don’t know what type of career I want yet.” You sighed. “I wouldn’t mind being an archivist or a librarian. I always wanted to be a librarian.” You chuckled.

“I’d go to the library if you were the librarian.” Jisung smirked.

“Is that so?” And he knew your eyebrows were raised and by your tone of voice, he knew you were about to poke a little jab at him.

“Well maybe I should become a librarian just so you can start reading more.” You laughed, causing Jisung to laugh once more.

“Oh? I gotta go. Eric is here.”

Jisung’s face contorted back into a scowl.

“I’ll talk to you later Jisung. Love you big head!”

“Love you too.” He sighed.

You hung up and Jisung took off his headphones and just stared at his phone, his grip on the device becoming tight.

What the fuck did Eric had the he didn’t?

Was it because he was muscular?

Handsome?

Jisung saw himself as handsome too but he had a boyish charm to his handsomeness while Eric was simply flat out of handsome, similar to how people saw Jeno.

If he could, he would mold himself into the man that you want just so you can want him…

Because he wants you.

But then a thought suddenly popped into Jisung’s mind.

If he wasn’t going to become the man that you want, well then he’ll just become that man that you need.

And that meant having to get your boyfriend out of the picture by any means necessary… without you finding out of course.

#yes you’re boyfriend is eric from the boyz cause I think he’s pretty handsome #and he was the first dude that popped into my mind while writing this #yandere jisung #yandere nct #yandere nct dream #nct angst #nct dream angst #nct dream x male reader #nct dream x reader #nct x male reader #nct x reader #jisung x reader #jisung x male reader #yandere park jisung #park jisung x reader #park jisung x male reader

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emberfrostlovesloki · 3 months

Text

Count the Cost [Emily x Reader]

Photo credits: Left (@lone-nyctophile) Center (@weemsicalweems) Right (@paracosmoon)

Prompt: An unspoken conversation rocks Emily and the reader's relationship when Prentiss gets shot on a case.

Pairing: Emily x Non-BAU!reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns.

Category: angst/comfort

Word Count: 5.1K

Content Warnings: Use of nicknames [sweetheart, love, etc.] throwing up/nausea, airports, Emily getting shot, not described in detail, hospitals [waiting rooms. IV’s, medical equipment.] brief mention of periods/chronic pain/migraines.

A/N: Hi loves! Here is another fic based on the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins January/February Writing Challenge. The dialog prompt this was based on was “There are a million reasons not to do something.” This is the fourth part of my Emily x Non-BAU!reader series. You can find Part I, Part II, and Part III here (all fics linked). However, you can read this as a standalone. You just need to know that the reader works for a senator. I had fun writing a bit of angst between these two. Of course, I hope I made the ending worth the angst. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! I hope you’re having a great start to your week and thanks for reading. Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories

_y/n_ = your name

_y/l/n_ = your last name

_y/f/s_ = yuur favorite senator

_y/f/c_ = your favorite color

The tiredness and dryness of _y/n_’s eyes didn’t stop her from keeping them open. There would be no sleep on the small dark cabin airplane tonight. The early morning flight to Kansas had been as unexpected as the call from a number _y/n_ had never seen at 2:47 a.m. At first, _y/n_ had thought it was just spam, but when she listened to the nurse on the other end of the line say he was trying to reach Emily Prentiss’s emergency contact, _y/n_’s stomach dropped like a stone. _y/n_ panicked, hit answer, and with a shaky voice said, “This is _y/n_ _y/l/n_. What’s happened to Emily?” There was a pause as the nurse took a moment to properly identify _y/n_, who was standing up and pacing with worry. Finally, the nurse replied, ‘Miss Prentiss was brought into the hospital about a half hour ago. She’s been shot.” _y/n_ nearly dropped the phone and said, “Shot! Shot where? Is she seriously injured, is there anyone there with her like law enforcement? She has a dangerous job. Someone might be after her. Try to kill her even.” _y/n_ realized that the last question was stupid because, generally, if you shot at someone, you were trying to kill them. But _y/n_’s thoughts were too paranoid and catastrophized to notice more than that. There was a pause that only deepened _y/n_’s fear. Finally, the man on the other end of the line replied, “Miss Prentiss was shot in the shoulder, has remained unconscious, and has lost a significant amount of blood. We aren’t sure about the type of bullet. And we can’t speak about anyone else on the hospital grounds, ma’am. The hospital is aware of Miss Prentiss’s situation.” _y/n_ took that to mean that they knew Em was an FBI agent. At this point, with _y/n_ knowing that Emily was hurt, potentially significantly, without any idea if she was alone or not, convinced _y/n_ that she should get to the hospital as soon as possible. Even if it meant having to phone bank, raise funds for the campaign, and edit _y/n_’s _y/f/s_ speeches in a hospital waiting room. This was the first time that Emily had been in serious, medical danger since _y/n_ and Prentiss had started dating. Sure, Em had come home once with a few cuts and scraps from a fall or a scrap with an unsub. Fights that Emily always won, it seemed. But this, _y/n_ didn’t know what to do about this, as she threw some clothes into a backpack along with some work stuff.

_y/n_ sat on the edge of her bed, the room illuminated by a single lamp, as _y/n_ looked for the earliest flight to Topek, Kansas. _y/n_ had at least had the foresight to ask for the name of the hospital from the nurse before saying that she’d be there as soon as possible. It seemed like a miracle that there was a flight leaving for Kansas at 5:00 a.m. that morning. It was a blessing, but the price of the ticket and the circumstances under which _y/n_ had to book them were like a living purgatory or limbo. Time seemed to barely pass. _y/n_ got to the airport, moved through security, and then waited for the plane to land on the tarmac. _y/n_ sent a hasty email to work letting them know that an emergency had come up, but that she’d brought her computer with her and could be accessed through email or her cell after she landed. The flight from D.C. to Kansas was no better for _y/n_’s nerves. _y/n_ had put on her comfiest _y/f/c_ sweater and kept ordering coffee after bland and burnt coffee. The acid taste of the hot liquid left _y/n_ feeling queasy and by the third hour of the flight, she was ready to be on the ground again. That wouldn’t happen for another hour and a half. Once in the Topeka airport, _y/n_ moved to the bathroom and threw up. The nerves and too much caffeine had that effect that made her body reject anything trying to keep it going. It was one of _y/n_ least favorite things about herself.

Emily had been so worried one day after a very stressful workday when y/n_ had to run to the bathroom and threw up. Em had pulled y/n_’s hair back and then handed her a cool damp towel to run over her face. After _y/n_ had rinsed her mouth and sat back down on the bathroom floor to take a few breaths, Emily sat down across from her in the small space. Prentiss took hold of _y/n_ delicate hands and asked, “What’s wrong, love? Are you sick?” _y/n_ let out a sigh and said, “I’m not sick, sick. This happens pretty often actually. When I get very stressed, it just kind of happens.” Emily nodded and said, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. That has to be awful.” _y/n_ shrugged and replied, “You get kind of used to it, I guess.” Prentiss squeezed her hand and said, “Well how about we get off these cold tiles and make you a cup of ginger tea to settle your stomach?” _y/n_ nodded and accepted Emiy’s hand up. That was one thing about Em that _y/n_ would never get over, just how caring her girlfriend was. The warm memory washed over _y/n_, and she was reminded that Emily was now in a hospital somewhere, possibly alone. This thought had _y/n_ get up quickly and rinse her mouth in the bathroom sink. _y/n_ grabbed her backpack and moved outside, flagging down a cab. She told the driver the name of the hospital to take her to. The closer they got to the hospital, the more anxious _y/n_ got. She was almost buzzing in her seat. She was also feeling sick with worry, but there was no time for that now. At the hospital, _y/n_ paid the driver and moved into the bright light of the room.

_y/n_ hadn’t gotten a follow-up call from the place of healing which made _y/n_ assume that Emily hadn’t taken a turn for the worse, but there was still a huge amount of dread as she approached the front desk. The charge nurse looked up at her and said, “How can I help you miss?” _y/n_ wrung her hands together and said, “My name is _y/n_, _y/l/n_. The hospital called me a couple of hours ago about my partner being shot. Emily Prentiss? Is she okay? I came as quickly as I could.” The woman gave her a soft smile and replied, “Let me check with the doctor for a moment. I’ll be right back.” _y/n_ stood and waited. The bright lights in hospitals always put _y/n_ on edge. She was more of a lamp and soft light person. Sometimes, when the lights were bright like these, _y/n_ could hear the electricity above. _y/n_ waited with anticipation when a slightly familiar voice called out, “_y/n_? Is that you?” _y/n_ whipped her head around and saw the bright colors of Penelope Garcia. A flood of relief washed over _y/n_, and she nearly ran to Emily’s team member. Penelope opened her arms and _y/n_ nearly fell into them. Garcia enveloped her in a hug, saying, “Sweetheart, what are you doing here?” _y/n_ felt the panicky feeling bubble up in her and said, “I got a call from the hospital. We’re each other's emergency contacts. It sounded bad so I came right away.” An older man, whom _y/n_ had never seen before said, “I guess y’all haven’t had the talk yet.” _y/n_ lifted her face from Penelope’s shoulder and asked, “What talk?” Garcia let _y/n_ go slightly and turned her toward the man, saying, “_y/n_, meet David Rossi.” Dave gave the young woman a small smile and extended his hand saying, “_y/n_ it’s nice to finally meet you. Emily talks about you all the time.” Rossi didn’t mince his words, as he added, “You make her very happy. I’m sure she’ll be glad to know that you’re here.” _y/n_ nodded, taking his hand in hers. Now that she was here, _y/n_ was beginning to feel better, but there was still the worry, and now _y/n_ had more questions than before. _y/n_ started with the big thing, asking, “Is Emily alright? The charge nurse was just going to check for me.” Rossi let out a sigh and said, “The last we heard the doctor in charge of her care was trying to stabilize her.” _y/n_ nodded and processed the information. The next thing _y/n_ asked, because her head was buzzing with many thoughts, and not all of them were as important as the rest. So _y/n_ just asked, “What’s ‘the talk’ Emily and I were supposed to have had by this point?”

Before Rossi had a chance to say that was a conversation that should probably happen between Emily and _y/n_, Aaron and the doctor emerged from a hallway that led into the hospital's interior. _y/n_ didn’t recognize either man, but the members of the BAU team present, Rossi, Spencer, and Penelope seemed to. Everyone turned to the two men and waited with bated breath for information. The doctor approached the group and Aaron moved to the left flank of the team. The somber leader of the BAU noticed the new edition to the party immediately but didn’t want to cut off the doctor’s statement. There would be time for questions later. Doctor Smith took a breath before saying, “Miss Prentiss is more stable now. She left a significant amount of blood and the bullet was lodged in her left shoulder. The shot was dangerously close to her carotid artery, thus the excess loss of blood. However, I’ve managed to dislodge the bullet. It was a 9mm soft point bullet. The damage could have been much worse. I gave her a transfusion and stabilized the wound. She should make a full recovery. It will take time but she should be okay if she takes things slow. I’ll let you see her when she wakes in a few hours. I’ve given Miss Prentiss a mild sedative for now.” The doctor walked away to speak to a nurse nearby. The team seemed to instantly relax, but _y/n_ didn’t take the news so well. _y/n_was shocked to hear what Emily had been through, the pain, and the near-death experience of her partner The suddenly relaxed attitude of the team also surprised _y/n_. How the group could suddenly be so calm was beyond her. _y/n_ wanted to say something, but she was cut off by the last man that she didn’t know in the group. By his demeanor and solemnity, _y/n_ had to guess that the man was the leader of the BAU, Agent Aaron Hotchener. _y/n_ was proven right when the tall man said, “Hello. I’m Aaron Hotchner. I assume you’re _y/n_?” _y/n_ nodded and Aaron took on a look of understanding. With a tone that was slightly softer than his normal demanding voice, he said, “Can you give the team a few minutes to talk, alone?” _y/n_ wanted to protest, but then realized that this was all their job, she was just here. Emily was alive, and there wasn’t more she could do here until Em woke up. _y/n_ sat down in an uncomfortable chair. The tiredness seemed to hit her all at once and _y/n_ closed her eyes. She was too far away to hear what the BAU members were saying, but the tone was serious. After the conversation, _y/n_ watched as Spencer and Rossi left the hospital. This left Aaron and Penelope standing in the hallway. _y/n_ watched as Agent Hotchner put a hand on Garcia’s shoulder, said a few words, and then pulled a cell phone from his black slacks and took a call.

Garcia moved toward _y/n_ and sat next to her. The normally bright and spunky tech wizard held out a hand for _y/n_ to hold and anchor to. _y/n_ took it and sniffled. _y/n_ asked, “I thought you didn’t go on cases, Penelope? At least, that’s what Emily said.” Gacia smiled and replied, “I don’t normally go on cases, no. They needed my tech skills in person on this one. I’m happy Hotch, Aaron, asked me to come because I was able to find Emily in time.” _y/n_ squeezed Penelope’s hand. She knew that Garcia was as upset about what had happened to Em as she was. _y/n_ knew the whole team was, even those not at the hospital. However, Penelope showed that concern more openly. _y/n_, like Garcia wore their heart on her sleeve. _y/n_ looked at the technical analyst and asked, “Can you tell me how you found her? Is the um…” _y/n_ tried to remember the word for unsub, and it clicked. “...unsub been caught yet?” Gacia gave _y/n_ a small sad smile and said, “I can’t tell you, _y/n_. The investigation is still ongoing. I know it’s frustrating, but I can’t say.” _y/n_ nodded in understanding. In some ways, it was annoying but more than anything it was just difficult. Up until that point, Emily’s job had been something exciting to talk about. And _y/n_ did worry about her when she was on a case, but Em had never been seriously wounded while they had been together yet. But now the possibility that Emily could die, could be stripped from _y/n_ forever, every time she stepped out the door to a case, became a possibility. This was a new kind of dread that _y/n_ realized she was going to have to live with. That possibility felt like the discomfort of knowing a period was coming next week. And that menstruation could be better or worse or not happen at all some months, but the possibility was always there. At least until menopause. Or if someone had migraines or other chronic pain. _y/n_ realized how gross and juvenile those comparisons were, but it was the best her brain could come up with at the moment. There was a shift when Aaron came back, the phone still in his hand and pressed to his ear. The tall man walked up to Penelope and said, “Garcia, Morgan has a question for you.” Penelope stood and took the phone from Hotch and moved over to the corner where he had just been standing. The hospital was pretty crowded and the chair Gacia had just vacated was one of the only ones open. Hotch looked down at Emily’s girlfriend. The woman had a look on her face of understanding of what a job at the BAU really meant. Aaron pulled _y/n_ from those thoughts when he asked, “May I sit here?” _y/n_’s eyes snapped to his firm ones, and she said, “Of course, Mr. Hotchner, Agent Hotchner?” _y/n_ strumbled through the possible names to call him. Neither she had tried to work. The man let out a small breath that might have been a laugh as he said, “You can just call me Hotch, or Aaron.” There was a small silence before Aaron said, “It’s nice to meet you, _y/n_. I wish it was under better circumstances than this.” _y/n_ nodded and said, “It’s nice to meet you too, Aaron.” The next half hour was spent making small talk and _y/n_ looking at her hands or the hands of the clock slowly ticking by. As the time moved, the dread returned and Aaron could feel it like a weight on _y/n_’s frame.

Hotch understood. Not from _y/n_’s point of view, but the other way around. He knew how it felt to leave Haley and Jack and not know if he’d see them again. He knew how those feelings for Haley had been so great that she had to step away. He didn’t blame her for that. It was clearly all new to _y/n_ and he softly said, “It’s not fair.” _y/n_ looked over at him and said in a weary voice, “What do you mean?” Hotch shifted in the chair and sighed very softly before saying, “It’s not fair for the people who stay behind. I can’t speak for Emily, but I know she understands that too.” Feeling slightly defeated by the circumstances and new reality, _y/n_ replied, “I was living in a fantasy world where she never got hurt, and that’s been shattered for me. I know fantasies are silly things and we don’t live in them, but I’m not sure how to deal with this kind of uncertainty.” _y/n_ turned and Aaron, the man Emily had spoken so highly of as the fearless leader of the team, was looking right at her. Not just right at her, but right into her, with an understanding that _y/n_ was unaware was possible. _y/n_ suddenly understood why the man was so respected. Hotch replied, “I think that’s a conversation you should have with Emily. That’s the best advice I can offer you.” It was with that last full conversation they shared before the doctor returned and told them that Emily was up now. They both stood up, and _y/n_ realized that Aaron was going to need to speak to her alone. Emily probably had some information that he needed. Hotch turned and said, already a step ahead of _y/n_, “I’ll make it as quick as possible, _y/n_. You’ll see her soon.” _y/n_ nodded. The anxiety came back to the surface. She spent the next forty-five minutes pacing the waiting room and counting the ceiling tiles.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a nurse came back and led _y/n_ to the back of the hospital. _y/n_ watched from the closed blinds as the shadow of Hotch stood from a chair near the shadow of the bed and the medical equipment. He opened the door and held it open so _y/n_ could slip into the small room. _y/n_ looked at Aaron and they exchanged a brief nonverbal “thank you” with each other. Once the door was closed, all _y/n_ could think of was Emily. _y/n_ rushed into the room and to her bedside. The brunette turned her head to see _y/n_ and tried to fake a smile. _y/n_ saw right through it as she sat down in the chair and took Em’s hands in hers. Prentiss had an IV in her arm and there were multiple monitors attached to her chest. Then there was the large bandage wrapped around Emily’s left shoulder. _y/n_ could see it under the flimsy hospital gown covering Em’s body. _y/n_ took a second to look Prentiss over and then asked, “How are you feeling, please don’t try and make it sound better than it is because, to be honest, you look rough.” Emily let out a shaky breath that _y/n_ knew to be a laugh. The sound could make _y/n_ cry at that moment. _y/n_ did start crying once Em started talking. Her voice was hoarser than usual and it sounded thin, but Prentiss said with sincerity, “Well I’m on a lot of drugs, so I don’t feel anything too much right now. Even with that being the case, my shoulder feels like a mountain either got dropped on it, or something burst out of it like Aliens or something. And there are some scrapes and bruises from when I fell.” _y/n_ nodded along noting how pale Em looked. _y/n_ was amazed that Prentiss could even speak as coherently as she was. It was a reminder that Emily could be tough as nails. However, _y/n_ could see the hints of pain in the corner of Emily’s eyes and the firm line of her mouth. She also looked tired. _y/n_ knew there needed to be some conversation between them to address what had happened with her injuries and _y/n_ being there at the hospital. Prentiss had seemed surprised almost when _y/n_ walked through the door, though it was clear that Aaron had told Em that she was there. Deciding to postpone that conversation for when Emily was a bit stronger, or at least in less pain, _y/n_ said, “Why don’t you rest for a while, Em? I’ll be here when you wake up.” Emily nodded and closed her eyes. The only sounds in the room were the soft beeping of the machines in the room and _y/n_ and Em’s soft breathing while both of them rested.

An hour or so later the doctor came back and checked on Emily’s vitals and administered another dose of the various medications Em was on. A nurse also raised the head of the bed and promised to bring Emily some food. Once the medical professionals were gone, _y/n_ looked at Emily. They were both slightly refreshed in a way, and with the prospect of food on the way it gave them a timeline of something happening. It was helpful because time in a hospital just seemed to stretch on forever. Lunch provided a definite finite point in space. Both Em and _y/n_ just knew that their conversation was going to at least start before Prentiss’s food arrived. _y/n_ started the dialog by asking the hard question, “Am I not supposed to be here, Em? Is there something I’ve missed? The team seemed very surprised I guess when I showed up.” Emily, with her piercing eyes, looked at _y/n_ and sighed, knowing she couldn’t avoid this talk forever. She replied, “No _y/n_, it’s okay that you’re here. If it wasn’t, Aaron or Rossi would have sent you away by now. It’s just they didn’t expect you. Partners don’t normally come to see an agent until after the case is over.” _y/n_ furrowed her brow and said, “But how would I know that, Em? You never told me that. I just heard that you were hurt, maybe seriously, and I didn’t know if you were alone. How could I not jump to be here with you?” Emily nodded, knowing this wasn’t on _y/n_ and wanting to reassure her. Prentiss said, “_y/n_, you didn’t know because we haven’t had that conversation yet.” _y/n_ bit her lip wondering if this was “the talk” that they hadn’t had yet. _y/n_ released her lip from her mouth and asked uncertainly, “Em we’re almost five months into this relationship, what is this important conversation we haven’t had yet?”

Em could see that this lack of information was distressing to _y/n_ and Emily said, “The conversation about what happens if I get hurt. If I die doing this job.” _y/n_’s eyes widened and she said, “That seems like a pretty important conversation to have. I mean, we’ve talked about the risks. I just assumed that if the hospital called I should come.” Emily looked at _y/n_ and replied, “It’s not always that easy, _y/n_. Sometimes they can’t tell you. Even if it’s bad. So bad that I might not make it. If the hospital does call, like I said, most people just wait until the case is over, or their partner lets them know.” _y/n_ struggled to process the information and said, “So if the hospital, or you, or Garcia tell me you’re seriously hurt like shot in the arm say, I just have to wait and see what happens? If that’s the norm, why didn’t you tell me that, Em?” Emily listened to the desperation in _y/n_’s voice, at the fear of being left out of such important information. Meanwhile, _y/n_ struggled to comprehend having to just wait and see for something as important as Emily’s life to be had or lost. Finding out that Emily being shot had nearly put _y/n_ into a downward spiral, having to just wait and hear if the love of _y/n_’s life had made it or not at the end of a case seemed unsurmountable. It was asking too much. Em watched these emotions play out on _y/n_’s face, and _y/n_’s expression of what she was being asked was why she had avoided this conversation for so long. Because the reality of what loving an FBI agent entailed often sent people running in another direction. To something or someone more stable. A place where the likelihood of pain and uncertainty was far less. Prentiss swallowed and said, “I let you down, _y/n_. By not telling you this earlier. At how much of a sacrifice this is. I didn’t tell you because I had been so lucky that I hadn’t been hurt before. At least not when I was with you. I suppose I was naive and just hoped my luck would keep going, but it didn’t. I also didn’t tell you because when that conversation happens it forces people to choose whether or not this is something they can take. I was careless with your feelings by not telling you. I just love you so much that I couldn’t think about losing you because of that conversation. I’m sorry, _y/n_. I’m sorry for putting you through this the way I did. What happens from here is up to you, _y/n_. If you don’t think you can take that stress, I understand. You just have to count the cost of if it’s worth being with me and understanding how it works sometimes. Just know that every time I step into the bullpen, or onto the plane, I’m thinking of you. I’m thinking of making the world a safer place for you.”

Emily realized that she wasn’t letting _y/n_ get a word in edgewise, because she was afraid of what _y/n_ might say or do. But it was up _y/n_ now, and Emily thought that perhaps _y/n_ was going to get up and leave right then and there. It had happened to her once before. _y/n_ sat silently in her chair and closed her eyes wondering if she could take it. _y/n_ did feel like Emily had kept this from her, but it had been out of a fear of losing her. Their relationship flashed through _y/n_’s mind and the love, passion, and warmth filled _y/n_ nearly to the brim. She tried to compare it to the anxiety she had felt and would feel in the future if Emily got hurt again. As painful the uncertainty was, the love outweighed the fear, and _y/n_ looked at Em and said, “There are a million reasons not to do something. A million reasons why you didn’t want to have this talk with me, a million reasons why I could walk away, but I just need one reason to stay, and that’s you, Emily Prentiss. I’m picking you. I’m going to pick you every time. But no more secrets. No more missed conversations. If we’re going to make this work for the long run, which is what I want, then we have to be honest with each other. Even if it’s conversations that are painful.” Em nodded with tears in her eyes as she said, “You’re everything to me _y/n_. I promise to tell you everything. The good and the bad, there won’t be any more surprises. I’ve never met anyone so willing to love me. To choose me over the uncertainty.” _y/n_ leaned in and kissed Em’s hand. She would kiss Em all over if it wouldn’t hurt her.

Their brief moment of intimacy was interrupted by the nurse bringing in a plate of soft foods for Emily. _y/n_ pulled back, and the woman looked at them for a moment before setting the tray on the bed. The older woman said, “Make sure to use your right hand only. You shouldn’t move your left arm or shoulder at all.” Emily looked at the stern woman and nodded. With that missive, the nurse left them again. _y/n_ watched as Emily attempted to poke at some jello with a spoon unsuccessfully. _y/n_ couldn’t help but chuckle and Em looked at her saying, “Hey, no laughing at me. I’m injured.” _y/n_ fixed her face and said, “Well then let me help you because that jello is fighting for its life right now.” That comment had Em laugh slightly and it felt good to have their dynamic closer to their normal. Em teased, “Hey I’m a big girl. I think I can handle it.” _y/n_ sighed and took the spoon from Prentiss’s hand as _y/n_ said, “Listen, love, you’re the bravest person I know. We just had a brave conversation, now I just need you to be brave enough to let me help you, okay?” Em smiled and gave in saying, “Okay love, and for the record, you’re pretty brave yourself.” Though their relationship had been rocked, momentarily, their foundation was strong, built on trust and love that could endure hard storms and conversations. _y/n_ and Em were affirmed of their love for each other as Em allowed _y/n_ to feed her in an intimate act of caring.

That evening when Morgan and Penelope moved back to the hospital to check on their teammate, Derek asked, “You really think Prentiss didn’t tell _y/n_ about coming during cases?” Garcia replied, “She couldn’t have, or why else would _y/n_ have shown up here?” Morgan nodded and said, “Well I bet that was a tough conversation.” The pair moved to Emily’s room and stopped. Inside the darkened space, they could see Emily sleeping while holding _y/n_’s hand. _y/n_’s head was resting on the edge of the bed and they both seemed to be at peace. Penelope softly said, “Maybe it wasn’t so hard after all.” Pen let out a sigh and said, “Let’s get a coffee or something, we should let them rest.” Derek agreed, and they let the couple rest and recuperate in the love they had for each other.

______________________________________________________________

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 2 years

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Words: Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Prison to Terminus Warnings: intense scenarios, mentions of blood, language, violence, gore, stress and anxiety Summary: The prison falls and Daryl is devastated, thinking Y/N might be gone forever. Is she alive? Can they find their way back to each other and their family? A/N: The patron and requester for this commissioned fic is the lovely goddess @ankmutes so thank them for their amazing generosity! This fic was a challenge to write, covering a time when SO MUCH happened in the show but still keeping the story focused. I hope I've pulled it off!

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Daryl found it hard to resist reaching for you on the other side of the bed as the morning light filtered in through the high windows, but you’d been extra tired lately, so he let you sleep undisturbed. He slipped quietly from his place beside you, glancing up at the warm light above, and he stretched. Time to start the day. There was always plenty to do in the prison now that they’d taken on so many Woodbury survivors. First things first, he wanted to inspect the fence and check on the number of infected at the perimeter. It seemed like more and more were drifting in lately. They’d had to add extra people to work on the fence to keep the numbers down.

He slung his crossbow on over his back and glanced at you one more time. Your hair was fanned out against the pillow and despite his best effort, he couldn’t leave without kissing the silky skin on your cheek. You were so deeply asleep you didn’t stir.

He tried to keep his footsteps light against the metal grating of the stairs. He was worried about the deepness of your exhaustion. It had no apparent cause and even though you insisted you were fine, it was a change that had him concerned. He hoped you weren’t coming down with something. Many people were still recovering from the fatal flu epidemic that had swept through only days earlier. He hadn’t yet forgotten his terror at the thought of losing you to something as routine as a flu… Luckily, you hadn’t caught it and had stayed quarantined in the administrative section of the building. He’d talked with you through the foggy glass, pressing his hand to the same place on the pane as the smaller shadow of yours. Fear and uncertainty had seized him at the time, made his blood run cold, but you had both stayed healthy. Still, his mind went to a worried place. Was it possible that you did catch it and it just wasn’t showing up until now? But you didn’t seem to have any other symptoms beyond low energy… He should ask Hershel.

Daryl greeted Rick, Carl, and baby Judith as he passed the garden on his way to the fence. Rick inquired after you but didn’t seem to share Daryl’s deep concern about how tired you’d been. Rick leaned on his shovel. “You know how she is,” he shrugged. “She’s always doing more than her share. I’m not surprised it’s caught up with her. I’m sure if she just takes a couple days of rest she’ll be back at it. You could probably do with a day or two of the same,” he added with a pointed look at Daryl.

Daryl scratched at a non-existent itch on the back of his head. “Yeah, I guess so… I’mma take a look at the fence.” He wandered away and perused the perimeter. It seemed secure still and undamaged by the dead on the other side. By the time he was back up at the prison, you were awake and digging through your duffel bag for something. “Hey. Yer up,” he drawled, gently pulling you in against him with hands light on your hips.

“Yeah, I’m up.” You closed your eyes and smiled as he kissed your forehead. “Can’t believe I didn’t feel you get out of bed. And you’ve obviously been outside already because you’re sweaty,” you said with a laugh.

Daryl’s cotton shirt was clinging to him and he tugged at the fabric. “Yeah, ya were pretty deeply asleep still… Didn’t wanna wake ya.”

You could hear something in his tone. “You’re not still worrying are you? Daryl, it’s nothing. I told you. I’m fine. You’re making yourself anxious for nothing.” He tapped his fingers on your hips and chewed on his bottom lip, hesitating.

“I know… I know… but are ya sure? I mean, maybe we should just have Hershel check ya out and—with that flu comin’ through—”

“I know you think I’m basically Superwoman,” you joked, “but if I had that flu, I’d be a little more than tired. I don’t have any symptoms.” You smoothed your hands up and down his bare forearms. The contact sent a tingle of electricity up his back like it always did. “I’m okay. Really.”

He still looked unsure but nodded and seemed to yield to your insistence. “Alrigh’. Just—can’t be too careful, righ’?”

Your only response was to kiss him. His hands pressed gently into your back, holding you into his body and you didn’t mind his warmth from being outside. “Maggie and Glenn are still going on that supply run today?” you asked, pulling back and meeting his bright blue eyes.

He nudged his nose up in a nod and hummed a response. “Mhm. I think so. They were just outside by the gardens when I came in.”

“Good,” you said, breaking away from him, feeling his fingers slip from your back to your sides and then lightly disappear. “I want to ask Maggie for something if it isn’t too much trouble.” You tugged on a light cotton shirt over the tank top you were wearing.

“Well, what d’ya need?” Daryl drawled. “I can go out and get it.”

You gave him a look. “I’m sure you have plenty to do inside the walls today. Don’t worry about it! Maggie won’t mind and they’re already going out.”

“…ya dun wanna tell me what it is?”

You laughed lightly and went back to him, looping your arms around him and leaning in. “It’s just girl stuff. Nothing to worry about. God, you’re starting to worry more than me,” you teased him, tugging on his shirt playfully.

Daryl rolled his eyes at you. “Dun think tha’s possible.” He kissed the top of your head, breathin gin the scent of your clean hair, and you closed your eyes for a moment. “Ya better go catch ‘em then before they leave,” he said. “I gotta check in on how buildin’ those new planters is goin’. Been down to the fence already. Looks alrigh’ but we ain’t gonna be able to slack off on keepin’ those herds down,” he sighed.

Your brow furrowed. “I know. It seems like there are more and more lately… They keep coming out of the trees to the south. We keep killing them and they just keep coming.”

“Least we got a safe home base now,” Daryl said. “Was a lot worse when we were on the road. Always lookin’ over our shoulders, never gettin’ any real rest.” You nodded in agreement and just the thought of those long days running from one place to the next, nearly starving or freezing, was enough to reawaken the deep fatigue you’d been battling with lately. “Easier to keep my lightnin’ bug safe,” Daryl drawled. There was a soft smile on his face now and it lifted your mood again.

“Easier for your lightning bug to keep you safe,” you agreed, using the nickname he’d given you a long time ago. He’d told you it was because you were always a bright glow for him when things got dark—an ember, a spark, a lightning bug that kept him living, not just surviving day to day. It’d become the term of endearment he always used for you, and you didn’t mind it one bit. The sentiment was so wholesome, so completely Daryl. “See you later?” you asked, heading toward the stairs.

“Ya can count on it,” he nodded, reaching out and grabbing your hand one more time, tugging you against him again, drawing a laugh from you. This time he kissed you slowly and more deeply and you found yourself sinking in to it, going slightly weak in the knees.

You gave him a final smile when he released you and went down to find Maggie and Glenn.

_ _ _ _ _ _

That night after dinner, you found Daryl where he was talking with Carol and slipped your fingers between his. He turned, his face lighting up. “Hey,” he greeted you. Carol gave you a smile and said hello too.

“We were just talking about you,” she said.

“Uh oh… Is he telling lies again?” you asked, squeezing his hand, laughing lightly.

“No. He’s just worried because you’ve been sleeping like a normal human lately,” she said.

You glanced at Daryl again, shaking your head. “He does that.”

Carol couldn’t help smiling at the sight of the two of you. Every time your eyes locked with each other it was like a glowing aura pulsed around you both, a halo of happiness. “Yes, he does. He's really turned into quite the worrywart,” Carol teased.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind if I borrow this worrywart?”

“Be my guest. Takes him off my hands,” Carol laughed.

“Thanks.” You began to lead him gently away under the inky black sky, turning toward the prison.

“Where we goin’?” he drawled as you released his hand and glanced back at him.

You only smiled, and there seemed to be something secret behind it. “You’ll see.”

Daryl’s curiosity was a bit sharp with nerves. You led him toward one of the guard towers. “Ya ain’t on watch tonight, are ya?” he asked. You could hear a little anxiety in his voice and paused in the doorway to look back at him.

“No. I’m not. And don’t look so worried,” you finished, gently gripping the front of his vest and tugging him in against your body. “There’s nothing the matter. Okay?”

Daryl released his bottom lip from where it had been trapped between his teeth and nodded. “Alrigh’,” he said. He wished he could read your mind though. His fingers dimpled into the softness of your sides.

You smiled at him warmly and leaned in to leave a kiss on his lips. You were gone far too quickly. Daryl wanted more, but he always did. He allowed you to take his hand again and lead him up into the guard tower and out onto the platform outside. The prison yard below was now veiled in deep hues of blue and purple and swaddled in thick shadows. Crickets were chirping a quiet symphony. Overhead, some wispy clouds floated lazily past the moonglow, creating a halo of light. Stars were just beginning to pepper the night sky.

Daryl could see twinkling low over the grass on the other side near the fence as he leaned on his forearms and took in the scene. The little warm lights blinked on and off. On and off. “Some o’ yer siblings over there,” he drawled, nudging his head in the direction of the fireflies. When you didn’t respond, he straightened up and looked over at you. You had your hands in your back pockets and there was a staggering light shining in your eyes. You bit your bottom lip. “Hmm?” he asked, his heart starting to pound. He didn’t know why he was so nervous.

“I’ve figured something out,” you said, stepping more closely toward him. “You know how you’ve been convinced that I’ve been unusually tired lately?” Daryl only nodded, his brow furrowing. “Well, you’re right.”

Daryl gulped, utterly perplexed. “Uhh…”

It was at that moment, as he was trying to figure out exactly which question to ask, when you produced something from your pocket. It was a little white plastic stick. You held it up between your fingers for a moment, your face breaking into a wide smile that lit you up from within. “This is what I asked Maggie to get for me today. And this is why I’ve been so tired.”

Daryl’s eyes stared at the pregnancy test. “Ya—yer—”

You laughed lightly. “Yeah,” you said. Your voice was breathy with excitement.

Daryl’s mouth had dropped open, his blue eyes wide as they went between what you were holding and your face. “Y/N, yer—Are ya sure?”

You nodded more urgently and another laugh bubbled up out of you. “Yes. I’m—we’re pregnant.”

And Daryl crashed into you, knocking you off balance but sweeping you into his arms at the same time so there was no chance of you falling back. You looped your arms around his neck and he had you off your feet, held tightly into him as he buried his face into your hair and the side of your neck, kissing whatever part of you he could reach. More laughter broke out of you and happy tears swelled in your eyes. Your cheeks hurt from smiling.

Daryl set you gently back on your feet, hands on your hips. He held you at arm’s length, looking you over, his expression still a little stunned. “We’re gonna have a baby?” he said, bewildered. “Yer—I’m gonna be—” He couldn’t even get the complete sentences out. His mind was a whir of thoughts; overjoyed, so happy he could burst, but at the same time worried about you going through a pregnancy and a birth during the fucking apocalypse—especially after Lori… and how much preparation there was to do. You needed rest, and food, and vitamins… and goddammit he was gonna get ya everythin’ you could possibly want or need.

You clasped his face. You’d seen in his eyes that he was a little overwhelmed, and your fingers on his skin brought him back to you. “You’re going to be the most amazing dad,” you said. “I know it.”

Daryl cupped your face and kissed you, his other hand on your lower back pressing you into him so he could feel the angles of your hips and the flare of your rib cage. He felt thirsty for you, desperate for the taste and the silk of your lips. You let out a small sigh of pleasure as he deepened the kiss and your heart leapt. You always found his body against yours intoxicating. Your fingers slipped just under the hem of his shirt and found his skin, moving over his back just above his waistband. Goosebumps rose on his skin.

Daryl was always able to make you smile. Every day with him, you found numerous small moments that kept life worth living. But this? This wasn’t a small moment. This was a Big One. One for the books, and you would remember it as a core memory and hold it close forever. The two of you were embarking on a new adventure, and there was no one you’d rather do it with.

Soon the two of you were tangled up in bed back in the cell block. Daryl’s arm was around you, holding you to his warmth, skin to skin. He’d kissed every part of you, pressed his lips to your belly over and over, whispering sweet things you couldn’t hear to the life growing there. The last thing you felt before sleep were his lips pressed to your hair again. You drifted off, wondering if it was even possible to be any happier than you were in that moment, safe in his strong arms, his fingers tracing the edges of you.

But the very next day, everything changed.

The Governor. He’d showed up at the fence, dug his claws into the prison, and torn everyone’s world apart.

Deafening blasts and gunfire. Bullets whizzed past you and buried themselves into the concrete, ricocheting off the fence. You ducked behind some corrugated steel for cover and looked desperately across the courtyard to Daryl. You were separated by a wide area of open ground. No cover. Your family was scattered, panicked, but you saw Daryl beside Beth, firing round after round at the invaders. He paused, and his blue eyes sought you and met yours. You saw him scream your name, but you couldn’t hear it through the distance and the chaos.

You had to get to him.

You steeled yourself and took a hurried step out of your cover only to have a bullet graze your shoulder. Crimson flushed to the surface and wicked into the cotton of your shirt. You barely felt the burn. You pressed a hand over it and flattened yourself back behind cover. Desperation and panic bubbled up in your chest and nearly stifled your breath.

Daryl pressed his back against the metal sheets he and Beth were now hiding behind. His eyes continuously found your hunched form across the yard, his chest heaving. He thought maybe he’d seen blood on your shoulder and his panic grew. “I gotta get to Y/N,” he said. “Just stay here!” He changed the magazine in his gun and made like he was ready to dash out.

“What?! Daryl! You can’t go out there! They’ll kill you!” Tears were still streaming down Beth’s cheeks, even as she yelled at him. “You can’t get to her from here!”

“I gotta! I ain’t just fuckin’ sittin’ here! Just stay here!” He started to lunge himself forward but Beth caught him by the back of his vest and tugged him back hard. Shots rang out and pinged off the metal around them. His ears were ringing. Fuck. FUCK! She was right. He couldn’t get to you... He'd be no good at protecting you if he was dead.

He looked over to you again and you seemed to lock eyes once more. Your eyes were wide and he could tell from the shine on your cheeks that you had tears streaming down them. Then he saw you glance over your shoulder at an arm of the prison that jutted out behind you. You looked back at him one more time and then made a rush for the building.

“Y/N!” Daryl screamed, forgetting himself and partially standing. Beth tugged him back down. He pressed his back against the metal screen again. Fuck! You were going to go back through the prison, through the cell blocks, and get out to him on the other side. If he could just hold out here with Beth for another two minutes, he’d be able to get to you when you came to the door nearby. You’d make it. He just had to wait for an opening to run…

“Daryl, we can’t stay here much longer,” Beth said. “We have to get—”

But the end of her sentence was completely drowned in a massive explosion as the Governor’s men fired a catastrophic round from the tank into the prison building. Concrete and steel rubble rained down and clouds of brown and gray smoke rolled out. The blast was deafening. For a moment, Daryl and Beth were simply frozen in horror as the smoke drifted and they saw the crumbled remains of the building, the building you’d just run in to, the building many of the Woodbury survivors and other members of your family were probably sheltering in.

“Y/N…” Your name spilled from his lips and he dashed forward. The gunfire was a dull pop in his ringing ears.

“Daryl!” Beth rushed after him. “Daryl, we can’t stay here!” There was fear in her voice, but Daryl was consumed completely by the thought of getting to you, even if that meant clawing through the rubble and rebar with his bare hands. More bullets whistled past them and created divots in the ground and concrete wall nearby. “Daryl!” Beth yelled more desperately. She caught hold of his arm and had to use all her body weight to even get him to turn. Tears were streaming down her face in renewed rivers. “We have to go! We have to! Listen to me, if we stay here, we’ll die!”

Daryl felt like time slowed down to a fraction of itself. He felt like he couldn’t breathe—there was a strap around his chest squeezing tighter and tighter. He floated up out of his body and looked down at the chaos and the smoke and the flames and the rubble and the next thing he knew, Beth was dragging him away and time snapped back to its usual pace and bullets were shattering stone nearby and burying themselves into sheets of metal or plywood. And then the prison was behind, veiled in smoke, and his ears were ringing, and walkers were everywhere and they ran, and they ran, and they ran… He ran purely out of duty to stay alive, purely on base survival instinct. He didn’t realize he was sobbing as he ran. And then everything just went numb.

It stayed numb. For days and days, or maybe for weeks. Time had no meaning. There was a gaping hole in his chest. He ate out of routine necessity. He fought the dead out of stubbornness, but mostly he sat numb and silent.

And finally Beth snapped. “You can’t just sit there!” she said, climbing to her feet. “You can’t just give up like you are! We can’t!”

His blue eyes lifted from the fire and took in her fierce expression for a moment before returning to the coals.

“You’re not the only one who lost people back there!” she yelled, her voice cracking. “And I won’t just sit here with you and—and rot away in a fucking swamp!”

She stormed off. Daryl stood slowly, kicked out the fire and followed her.

Then they found the country club and then the moonshine, and the burn down the back of his throat was good. It reminded him that he could feel something.

They were sitting at the window, both warm with consumed liquor, just feeling the slight breeze through the broken and dingy window. “It hurts because it’s real,” Beth said suddenly. Daryl looked back at her, away from the night outside, in slight surprise. It had been quiet for a long time. “You loved her. Anyone could see how much you did. And I’m sorry you lost her,” Beth said.

Beth used the past tense. Loved. Daryl ducked his head and gulped. “It don’t just hurt. It’s like—somebody blew my insides out. S’like there’s some kinda emptiness in my entire body but it’s heavy and it just—pushes on all of ya. ‘M just draggin’ it around. And for what? I dunno how my heart is still beatin’…” He tried to blink away the tears that burned in his eyes.

Beth nodded. “I know.”

He nodded vaguely and gulped. “‘M sorry ‘bout yer dad.”

Beth only nodded and turned her eyes back out toward the moon. “Me too. But the rest of them—they’re out there, Daryl. We just have to keep going. We’ll find them.”

Daryl gulped again and his fingers fidgeted with his knife. “She was—” He shifted. “Y/N was—” It was the first time he’d spoken your name aloud since the prison fell. “Y/N was pregnant,” Daryl said. His voice came out slightly strangled from the tightness in his throat. Beth’s eyes met his again, and they were wide. Her mouth was partially open.

“Oh, Daryl… I’m so sorry. I’m sorry,” she said, sitting up straighter. “God…”

He hung his head again and sniffled. “She’d just told me the night before… We’d just found out,” he trailed off.

Now tears broke out onto Beth’s cheeks too. “I’m so sorry,” she said again.

Daryl only nodded and averted his gaze away again, back toward the night.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Woah, woah, woah… Hold up,” Daryl said suddenly. He bent down beside the railroad tracks and stared at some markings in the loose dirt. Beth stood behind him, her head tilting as she tried to decipher what he was looking at.

“What is it?”

Daryl’s blue eyes were narrowed in concentration. “I thought that—it looked—” He gulped. Nah. Wishful thinking. “Never mind,” he said, straightening up again.

The goddamn most infuriating thing about the shitstorm of a world they inhabited, was that when you were at your lowest, some cosmic fuck with a goddamn shovel managed to dig you a little deeper… And suddenly Beth was gone. And Daryl was alone. And then came The Claimers.

They walked the railroad tracks aimlessly, and most days Daryl wondered if he should just disappear again in the night, go it alone. He fucking hated those assholes. But he was tired. He was just so tired. And even being stuck in a band of assholes was better than being alone out in the shit. Most of the time, anyway…

As they followed another set of tracks, they came across a sign. “Sanctuary for all. Community for all. Those who arrive, survive. TERMINUS.”

One of the ragged, angry men he was with pissed on it, but Daryl was staring intently at it for a long moment after they walked away ahead of him. He swore there was a small shape in the corner, drawn in mud that had partially washed off, so it was hard to make out. He squinted at it.

“Hey! You coming?” Joe called back over his shoulder, noticing Daryl still standing behind at the sign. “Or are you gonna skip off and join those fucking hippies?” He spat on the ground.

One of the other men laughed. “I’d bet my life somebody has already taken advantage of their ‘good nature.’ Probably killed every one of them and took their shit. Shame. Coulda been us.”

Daryl adjusted the strap of his crossbow and started back on the tracks, but something in his chest was stirring, and he was grappling with it. Wishful thinking again? Or had there really been something there, something familiar…

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl didn’t believe in miracles, and he wouldn’t call getting the shit beat out of him a miracle, but he was back with Rick and Michonne and Carl. His family. Some of his family, anyway… and those fucking piece of shit Claimers were food for the dead like they should be. But he still felt that weighty emptiness in his chest. There was a piece of him missing he worried he’d never get back.

* * *

“How have I gotten ya?” Daryl had asked you, reaching up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. You were leaning over at him, bathed in early morning light, pressed to his body with your silky soft skin. You’d smiled at him. “By simply being the best,” you said back sweetly, your pink lips curving in a small smile. He watched your thick frays of eyelashes flutter as you blinked. You sunk down on him more heavily, laying your head against his chest. Your fingertips walked lightly over his skin, not avoiding his scars, but tracing them as if you were memorizing their shapes and locations lovingly, because they were a part of him. He still couldn’t believe your words, that you’d say any such things to him of all people, but he’d happily go along in this dream with you. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his rough hands against the curves of your back, holding you against him.

* * *

“Have you seen this?” Rick asked, calling him out of the deep well of memory he’d been sinking into. Today’s reality was cruel compared to that sun-soaked bliss.

Daryl startled a little and looked up. Rick was standing in front of another Terminus sign. “Yeah, I’ve been seein’ ‘em up and down the highways and tracks.” Daryl wandered closer, slowly at first, but then something in the corner caught his eyes again.

Rick brushed his fingers back through his hair. “Yeah, us too... Ya know, I’ve been thinkin’ that—” He broke off as Daryl rushed more urgently up to the map. Rick glanced at Daryl’s expression. “What is it?”

Daryl thrust a finger straight onto the map at a little doodle in the corner. It looked like a little drawing of a bug, done in scratchy black marker. Michonne exchanged a glance with Rick.

“What is that? I’ve never seen it before,” she asked. Carl moved closer and studied it.

“Tha’s cuz she didn’t use it with anybody but me,” Daryl said, meeting Rick’s eyes with an intensity he'd rarely seen in the archer.

“She?” Carl prompted.

Daryl nodded. “Y/N. I—I called her ‘lightnin’ bug.’ When she’d leave me notes or somethin’, she’d draw this instead of signing her name.” His heart was pounding now. “We’re goin’,” he said, immediately striding off, rushing along the tracks with renewed urgency and determination.

Rick took one more look at the little bug, drawn bold and dark. “Daryl—Daryl, hold up—”

“I ain’t waitin’ any longer without her,” he growled over his shoulder.

“I just—I don’t want you to get your hopes up just on one little drawing,” Rick said, rushing to catch up with Daryl’s long strides. Michonne and Carl trotted behind him. Daryl rounded on the former Sheriff.

“It ain’t just a drawin’, Rick. It was our— I’ve seen another couple before, but they were harder to see and I wasn’t sure.” He stopped and huffed for a moment before drawing in a deep breath. “I ain’t gettin’ my hopes up! S’her! I know it is! I know it is like—like I ain’t ever known anythin’ else before in my entire goddamn life! And I ain’t askin’ ya to come with me. I’ll go alone if I gotta but it’s her. She’s alive. And I ain’t wastin’ another goddamn minute away from her.” Daryl stood there with his chest heaving, waiting for Rick’s answer.

The sheriff suddenly broke into a teary smile and nodded, grabbing Daryl’s shoulder firmly. “Alright. We’re going. All of us. And hey, maybe the rest of our family will have the same idea. It’s the best lead we’ve had yet.” He patted Daryl’s shoulder and they started on their way.

_ _ _ _ _ _

But Terminus wasn’t at all what they’d hoped either. It was as far the opposite as it could have been… If it hadn’t been for Carol’s rescue, the place would have been the brutal, horrific end of all of them. Daryl rushed to hug her, throwing his arms around her with tears burning in his eyes. Everyone embraced urgently, tears streaming down their dirty faces, cleaning little river beds in the sweat and grime built up on their skin. Glenn and Maggie wouldn’t separate for a moment. The newcomers meshed into the group flawlessly; Abraham, Rosita, Eugene.

But as Daryl looked around, you were still nowhere to be seen and that sick, heavy, emptiness returned. He stared with desperation at Carol again.

“She was s’posed to be here,” he drawled. Carol knew instantly that he was talking about you. “She—she was s’posed to be here, but—” He hung his head and nearly doubled over, his legs about to give out at the thought that you had arrived at Terminus and been killed the way they’d almost been—knocked out and bled like cattle. The thought was so horrific he was nearly sick right there in the dirt.

Carol rushed forward and grabbed him, helping him straighten back up and steadying him on his feet. “I—I didn’t see her. I didn’t see anything of hers but—we can look. We can go look…” she trailed off. “I had the feeling there may be others there still trapped.”

Glenn stepped forward, his fingers still laced with Maggie’s. “There were more containers. I got one open but the guy was—he was crazy. But that doesn’t mean anyone left in there is.” Just like Glenn to hope.

Your family was all frozen for a moment. And what if they did find something of yours in the piles of belongings? Wouldn’t that only prove that you’d come for safety and been betrayed by these cannibalistic psychopaths? …Was it really better to know if that had been your end? The only thing keeping Daryl from collapsing into despair was some possibly absurd glimmer of hope that you were there and somehow still alive, hidden away somewhere.

He glanced back at the smoking wreckage and had a sudden, cruel flashback to the prison explosion. He passed a shaky hand over his eyes and he squeezed them shut, reliving the sounds and the sting of the smoke in his eyes, reliving the rending of his soul from his body.

“Daryl.” He felt a hand on his arm. It was Michonne. “We’ll all go,” she said firmly. “We’ll all come with you and search for her. If she’s here, or ever has been, we’ll find out.”

Daryl nodded, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted the tang of blood. “Place is flooded with walkers now,” Daryl drawled. “It ain’t gonna be easy.”

“Shit, when has any of this shitstorm ever been easy?” Abraham said, accepting a weapon from Rick and sliding a round into the chamber. “Besides, easy is for beginners, which we sure as shit ain’t. Let’s do this.”

They moved swiftly through the place like an elite team of soldiers. Those with scavenged rifles dropped the walkers at a distance while Daryl and a few others met the closer dead ones with the glinting cold blades of their knives. They eventually found themselves in the cavernous room that held the supplies and items that were stripped from those who had arrived at Terminus. Everyone stayed back as Daryl stepped forward, his eyes sweeping over every inch of the piled clothing, shoes, and assorted gear. Nothing. He saw nothing of yours. He looked again. Still nothing.

He stepped back, shaking his head. “I dun see anythin’,” he said. He didn’t know if he should feel relieved or…

“Come on,” Carol said gently. “There are a few more shipping containers back this way that weren’t opened.” When they managed to bust the chain on the first corrugated steel container and heave the door open, they were greeted only with the smell of death and the buzzing of flies. They recoiled but Daryl stayed rooted where he was, looking into the cave-like darkness inside. His hand clenched around the handle of his knife.

Carol stepped up beside him and gently touched his arm. “You don’t have to go in there,” she said, glancing at him with wide eyes. He shifted and tried to steel himself.

“We gotta be sure. I—I gotta be sure…” he trailed off.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “Just stay here.” She clicked on a flashlight fixed to the top of her gun and held it up, stepping into the container. The metal floor was slick with blood and the leakage of decomposing bodies. She moved steadily toward the back before the beam of her light illuminated three huddled forms on the floor. They’d obviously been long dead, rotting in the heat, forgotten or discarded. She let out a breath of air in relief. Men. They were all men. She could tell from the size of the clothing and what was left of the bodies. “No,” she called out over her shoulder. “No… Three men,” she said, turning and rushing to leave that place of death behind.

There were two shipping containers left across a brown patch of dirt and Daryl suddenly slowed as they crossed them, his family fanned out beside him. Carol was next to him on one side and Rick on the other. “What is it?” Carol asked.

“Ya hear that?” he drawled, squinting as he looked at one of the containers ahead. “I hear somethin’,” Rick drawled. Daryl moved closer and the dull, light thud got a little louder. His heart started to race. He pressed a hand to the door and it moved a little on its hinges, rattling the chain holding it closed. It could just be a walker inside.

A weak voice inside. “H—hello?” That wasn’t a walker. Daryl’s heart seemed to somersault in his chest, or maybe leave it completely. He pressed both hands to the door. “Is—is someone there? Please! Please, I need help! Please…”

Carol rushed forward. “Oh my God.”

Daryl couldn’t unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth for a moment. Finally, adrenaline snapped him into action. “Y/N? Y/N, is that you? Can you hear me?” he asked desperately.

There was a long pause, before your voice drifted out again, cracking from emotion. “Daryl?! Daryl!” The door moved toward him as you pushed against it from the other side. He could hear you sobbing now. “Daryl, please tell me that’s you. Please…”

“It’s me! ‘M here! ‘M gonna get ya out! Just—just hold on!” Rick rushed forward and handed him the steel breaker bar. He wedged it in under the chain and began prying at it forcefully, trying to break one of the rusty links. The others slowly gathered around, forming a semi-circle and making sure no walkers were getting anywhere close.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the chain broke under Daryl’s strength. He pulled it loose urgently and heaved at the heavy door, swinging it open. It swung back and hit the steel container around the other side, reverberating and starting to rebound. Sasha caught it.

And there you were, red-faced, dirty and sweaty from the heat of the container, weak and terrified and sobbing with relief and joy and disbelief. You were on your knees near the front of the container and Daryl fell to his, catching you as you collapsed forward, folding you into him, crying his own tears into your hair. Your body heaved under his arms and he held you more tightly. “I’ve gotcha,” he murmured to you. “I’ve got ya. S’okay now. I ain’t lettin’ ya go again.”

He smoothed his hand over your hair and you clutched to his shirt desperately, still unable to speak through your sobs. “I’ve got ya, Y/N…”

There wasn’t a dry eye around. Maggie sunk into Glenn again, and Rick wiped the tears from his cheeks and gave Carol another grateful and relieved look before clasping her shoulder and wrapping an arm around her in a hug. Michonne rubbed Carl’s back as he tried to conceal the tears falling from his eyes beneath the brim of his hat.

“Look at me,” Daryl murmured to you, clasping your face and pulling back slightly so he could see you. You were thin and worn and filthy, but you were there under his hands. You were whole. You were real. “I knew ya—I knew ya were alive. I knew it.” He hugged you tightly to him again and you shut your eyes and focused on his arms around you, pressing into your back, the familiar shape of him you worried you’d never feel again. “I saw yer marks,” he said. “The ones ya left. I knew it was you, but then we got here and everything went fuckin’ sideways—”

He let out a huge relieved breath and you felt some of the tension in him leave with it. “I ain’t ever lettin’ ya go again.” All you could do was look up into his blue eyes and trace your fingers lightly down his jawline before pressing your lips to his. That kiss tasted of salty tears, but it suddenly made it real to you that this wasn’t a dream. Daryl was there. You’d found each other again. He’d gotten you out of that dark, isolating nightmare. You wouldn’t be trapped there forever.

Abraham cleared his throat and stepped forward. “This has made me just about as happy as a junebug in June, but we are going to have some serious dead assholes to contend with if we don’t skedaddle right quick.”

Tara was mopping the tears off her face. “We can give them a minute,” she said pointedly.

“Nah. Nah, he’s right,” Daryl said, taking your hands in his, smoothing his thumbs over the back of them. “We gotta get outta here. That explosion and smoke is only gonna bring more of ‘em.” He turned his attention back to you and clasped your face again. “Can ya walk?” he asked you gently.

You nodded, and Daryl helped you to your feet. He wrapped an arm around you as you stood, and your hand went reflexively to your belly, tucking in against your clothes and revealing the slight roundness there. Daryl froze again, his eyes fixed on you, his mouth partially open. “Y/N—” He hadn’t wanted to think about it. He didn’t want to ask in front of everyone... He’d only assumed that it was likely you had lost the baby… So much trauma and running. Not enough food or water, and then the conditions of that place, and God only knows what else you’d gone through since the prison fell. “Y/N—Yer—yer still… ya didn’t—?” More tears welled up in his eyes and the constriction in his throat prevented him from saying anything more.

You shook your head. “I didn’t lose it,” you said, barely managing it through your own tears again. “You’re still gonna be a dad,” you whispered to him.

But the secret was out. The roundness of your belly was obvious by now, though still small, and Maggie was brimming with a smile and happy tears. She let go of Glenn’s hand finally to throw her arms around you. “You’re havin’ a baby,” she said, drawing back and looking into your face. “You’re back with us and you’re havin’ a baby.”

“I didn’t know it was possible to go from such complete terror to this high so quickly,” Sasha laughed. ]

“Yer sure ya can walk?” Daryl asked you gently. “I’ll carry ya outta here if ya need me to.”

You leaned against him, his arm wrapped around your back. “No, I can walk. I can walk. I’m just a little weak. Let’s just—” A shiver of residual fear rippled through you and Daryl felt it. “Let’s get the fuck out of this place.”

That night, not entirely safe without walls, but at least safely away from Terminus, the group circled up around a small fire, more for light than any need for warmth. Daryl had managed to find a small seep of clear water and it was now cool after boiling to ensure that it was safe. You’d drunk deeply from it and then accepted a few scavenged bits of food. You could barely keep your eyes open and Daryl lightly ran his fingers up and down your bare arm, tilting his head away from the glow of the fire.

“C’mon,” he said softly. He helped you up and the two of you murmured goodnights, accepting relieved smiles and words before bed. Daryl spread out a thin blanket on the ground and the two of you settled down on it, side-by-side, his arm draped over you protectively. You looked into each other’s eyes for a long, quiet moment before he spoke. You could feel the reverberation of his voice deep in his chest. “I didn’t know whether to hope that ya were there,” he said softly. “That ya even made it out of the prison alive, but then to still believe in that fuckin’ place… I dunno…” he trailed off.

A shadow of his previous despair was still on his face and you pressed your lips to his lightly. “It was that woman,” you said when you pulled back. Daryl gave you a questioning look. “Mary. She saw that I was pregnant. She stopped anyone from—from hurting me. That’s why she put me away by myself where I was,” you explained. “I know I should hate her… maybe I do. I know what they were doing there. I know what they were. But she’s the reason I’m still alive.”

Daryl nodded and brushed a strand of your hair away from your face. “Sometime, when things are better, you’ll tell me everythin’?” he asked. Your brow furrowed at the pain and fear behind his eyes and you moved in against him, your fingertips touching the little V of bare skin near his neck. You nodded.

“I don’t know how I survived when the prison blew up. But once I managed to find my way out, I knew you’d find me,” you said softly. The sound of your voice was a balm for all his hurt. “I just kept leaving those little marks everywhere, because I knew if you saw even one, that you’d search for me.”

Daryl’s arms tightened around you again. “I dunno how I woulda kept goin’ on if—”

“Shh,” you shushed him gently. “We don’t have to think about that. You did find me. And we’re okay. All three of us,” you smiled.

Daryl’s blue eyes flitted over your face and then he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. “Three of us,” he nodded. “I love you. And I already love the littlest lightnin’ bug more than I thought it was possible.”

“Lightning bug, Jr.,” you said with a smile. You took his hand and moved it onto your stomach, resting your hand over his. His lips twitched up in a smile and relief washed over you. Everything was going to be okay. You were together again, and nothing was going to separate you. It would be you, Daryl, and the little lightning bug against the world with your collected family at your side.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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the---hermit · 11 months

Text

Gender Queer by Maia Kobabe

I am not a huge memoir reader, but you can bet that if it's a graphic memoir I will pick it up, plus I want to expand my queer book collection, and this book was an amazing addition, that I know I will reread in the future. The author is non-binary and uses e/em/eir pronouns, which I never had to use before so if I fuck up while writing and editing please let me know. With this being said Gender Queer is a memoir and focuses on the author's journey of getting to know eir own self from a sexuality and gender point of view. But it feels reductive to describe this book as just that. The author does a great job at telling the story of eir life without skipping on all the existential crisis, the confusion and the fear. It's a very raw and honest work in my opinion, and it's amazing just because of that. Em couldn't have done a better job at explaing this complicated journey with all its ups and downs. There's fear and confusion, but also joy in getting to understand yourself more. It doesn't skip on any kind of thought, there's a few points that hit so close to home, ans that will keep sparking thoughts. The way the author talkes about gender and eir way of presenting is incredibly clever. I particularly liked how em used a landscape to talk about gender. It's not easy to put into words how good this graphic memoir is, and the fact that it was banned so much is scary and should be a good enough reason to pick it up. I feel like this could be a great way to let non-queer people understand a little better how figuring these things about yourself is, and how complex it gets. It's a little like being in the author's head sometimes, which is why I feel like this could be a great tool for queer allies to understand some things on a deeper level. As a queer person who is actually pondering a lot of these questions, it was very comforting to read about someone who stuggled just as much, but honestly reminds you of how layered and complicated these things are. Additionally I really liked the illustrations, the colour palette felt nice and overall I just really liked the look of this book (I should mention my edition which is the Italian on wasn't as curated as it should have because a few pages were blurred to a point you couldn't clearly read, which is absolutely unacceptable especially for how expensive graphic novels are. I never had such problems with this publisher, but that was kinda disappointing because I expected a bit more cure on the details, but again that is the Italian publisher's fault).

I read this for the jumbo reading challenge non binary author prompt.

#book #books #2023 book #bookblr #booklr #queer book #gender queer #maia kobabe #memoir #book rec #book review #book recommendation #book cover #reading #bookish #mine #the---hermit

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loreleismusings99 · 9 months

Text

Two-Body Problem

Mark Watney x reader

Grad School AU, (academic) rivals to ??????

No use of pronouns or y/n

[Masterlist]

Not Beta-read, we die like Spirit and Opportunity.

CW: networking, Inaccurate depictions of organic chemistry, probably riddled with typos, but that's all I can think of. Please please please let me know if I missed anything and I'll add it to the top of the list

The reader and Mark are both PhD candidates at Northwestern and both happen to be GTAs for an o-chem/bio-chemistry class. They schedule and meet up on neutral ground(a library) to get some grading done together and some unexpected feelings creep in.

AN: This is the first fanfic I've ever written; critique is always welcome and encouraged, but, uh, perhaps manage your expectations? Idk 😅 I'm not the best when it comes to creative writing, but there's a criminally low amount of fic for The Martian and even fewer fic centered around Mark imo. I might continue this into something more, if there's demand and if I've the energy and motivation 🤷🏾

Alright, I'll stop trying to lamp-shade; Enjoy, and thanks for taking the time out of your day to read this 💚💚💚

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Wanna meet up to put a dent in the pile of grading I know you also have?

The two of you exchanged numbers at the beginning of fall quarter out of politeness, but it was still surprising to see the notification from Mark’s text.

Leaning back in your chair, you considered your options, the soft sensor schematic in front of you now fully abandoned after an hour of rearranging thermocouples and resistors trying to alleviate a stubborn inductive noise problem.

Mark had been a thorn in your proverbial side since the day you met him; well, night, to be exact—your blood begins to boil at the memory. You were engaged in cordial and calculated banter with a researcher working in a lab you were gunning for before being interrupted by someone exclaiming “Dr. Hernandez!” to your left. You blinked and the fragile connection you just began to form had crumbled as the attention of the faculty member in question whirled to the side and greeted a stocky and stubbly man who Dr. Hernandez introduced to you as “Mark Watney, one of my PhD students!” This confused you since his name tag clearly said, Plant Bio and Conservation and this was a mixer in the electrical and computer engineering department; “I’m working with him and a faculty member in my own department on developing novel ways of monitoring soil properties in areas in Illinois hardest hit by industrial runoff” Mark says with a smile that oozes levels of confidence and hubris only considerable privilege can spawn. He gives you a quick glance before saying, “which actually reminds me-” and steering Dr. Hernandez away from you. Now, this certainly stung, but it wasn’t anything that you couldn’t get over. No, what made this a problem was Mark’s uncanny ability to draw the room’s attention to him and his work, making it a just a tad difficult to properly network without having to entertain talk and conversation surrounding the department’s charismatic new wunderkind apparent. This combined with quite publicly challenging a design of yours for a class you two shared had firmly placed Mark in your list of worst enemies. Which, admittedly, might be a bit dramatic, but after some quippy and well worded critiques and suggestions to optimize a C++ script he’d written for the same class it seemed you’d made your way onto his hit list too, if department gossip had any veracity to it—so at least the feeling was mutual.

Which brings you back to your confusion at this new development in your communication with him; Mark hadn’t exactly jumped for joy when, in some sick reversal of the infamous two-body problem, the two of you got hired as TAs for the same introductory o-chem class. You exchanged numbers, but neither reached out to the other to host joint office hours, or to work together to get through the ever-growing pile of completed homework assignments that you two need to finish grading—in fact, this is the first time either of you texted the other since the first text you sent confirming your number as yours. Staring at your phone’s screen you weighed the pros and cons of saying yes; on the one hand, it’ll help the two of you get ahead on the imposing pile of work that had accumulated just in the first 2 and a half weeks of the quarter. On the other hand, it meant that you’d have to breathe the same air as your infuriatingly handsome nemesis for longer than you were required to. Not that he was your type. Absolutely not. He just… had an objectively strong jawline…. Choosing not to think too hard about that and reasoning that getting grading done was more important than your pride, you typed out a curt sure. See you at Galter in an hour? And waited for his equally as curt sounds good before getting up to go change out of your comfy, at-home garb and head out the door with your half of the grading pile and your laptop tucked away into your backpack.

You’re chewing the last bite of a pop tart you got, realizing you unfortunately forgot to eat dinner before leaving, and scrolling through Instagram when Mark walks through the glass doors leading into the Galter Health Sciences Library. Under a mild windbreaker, he’s wearing what’s presumably a band t-shirt but with a worn-out and unrecognizable logo tucked into his cuffed light wash jeans. He"s carrying a clearly well-loved canvas satchel with a Cubs patch sewn onto the front. His hair was artfully tousled as he ran a hand through it while he looked for you in the spattering of students who occupied the library at minutes to 9 on a Friday evening. When his eyes finally land on you, he looks taken aback, the carefree look wiped off his face for a moment before he smirks at you through an obviously clenched jaw. “Glad you didn’t decide to stand me up. You reserve a conference room?” You returned his tension-filled smirk with a smile resembling a sneer and responded, “Of course. We’re on the second floor.” You stood up from your seat and started walking in the direction of the staircase, looking behind you to make sure he was following you only to find him in the middle of a light jog to position himself on your right side.

“So, how’s the dissertation writing going?” he asks over his shoulder. Scoffing, you respond with an incredulous “How’s yours?”, hoping he pics up on your clear annoyance at being asked that dreaded question yet again. Wincing at your retort of a question, he concedes with a “Fair enough” And the two of you are plunged back into the awkward silence that permeates the sparsely populated library.

after finally finding the room you reserved(the library is like a maze, capable of ensnaring even the most seasoned of academics), you shuffle into the study room together and set up your computers and piles of homework to be graded before settling into a serene flow with Mark working quietly beside you.

after about thirty minutes, you look over to Mark’s pile and notice that his “complete” pile is, unfortunately, larger than yours, which ignites a spark of competition in you. You start to try to work through your pile faster and Mark seems to pick up on your haste.“Worried about falling behind?” he scoffs with a shit-eating grin, clasping his hands together in front of his mouth. “Oh, not in the slightest; just trying to optimize my time, I've more work to get back to, you know.” you say, smirking back at him but with a glint in your eye, tacitly challenging him to try to get through his pile before you get through yours.

The two of you actually make some substantial progress in both of your piles before you encounter one of the more difficult homework assignments your students have been assigned. You’re stumped by the multi-part problem at the top of the page, trying unsuccessfully to follow the student’s work in front of you.

“... You on homework 15 yet?”

“Yep.” you nod.

“... You have any idea what Dr. C is asking them to do?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Alright, just checking.”

Mark sits back in his chair with a thud and runs a hand down his face. you stand from your seat and move to the small whiteboard on the wall opposite where you were sitting and start to list out the knowns and unknowns in the problem statement. You can feel Mark’s eyes on you the entire time, following along with your work and your movements as you draw out the reaction being described in the first part of the problem. You get stumped at the end of the problem, trying to piece together the end products of the reaction. You hear Mark shift behind you before turning around to see him walking toward the whiteboard to silently walk himself through your work, nodding at each step you took. He picks up a marker and starts adding onto where you were stumped and you watch intently, absorbing what he’s writing. As he finishes the problem, you get the chance to actually get a look at him while he’s working; he furrows his eyebrows and you notice a small crease he gets between his eyebrows as they cinch together, and the faint spattering of freckles across his nose becomes apparent with how close he is to you now. God, he is so close-"that should be it? I think?" He looks to you with an indiscernible look in his eye; first, a hint of shock as his eyes widen--looks like he noticed how close you are too-- then something else you can't quite identify. It takes more effort than your willing to admit, but you eventually tear your eyes away from his and look at his work on the board. It all makes sense, you also note how messily he draws his diagrams of the assortment of carboxyl groups created by the process at the center of the problem(and it also takes everything within you not to smile at that, thinking to yourself, when did this start feeling nice???). "It, uh, it looks all good to me. And the rest should follow from this too." you utter awkwardly and turn to face him again. "Yeah?" His state of mind is still elusive to you, and he responds with an almost dazed sounding "Yeah."

The moment doesn't last for long though, as a soft knock sounds at the door, startling you both out of your joint reverie. "Hey, you guys are the TAs for o-chem this quarter, right? Do you have time to talk about the homework due tomorrow?" The two of you exchange a glance and invite the exhausted looking undergrad into the alcove.

After helping your wayward student, the two of you start packing up your now completed piles of grading in silence, the awkward air from the beginning of the night settling back in now that the distraction from grading was gone. The two of you are about to part ways at the entrance of the library when Mark stops you with a "hey," and says,"uh, so, I know we have this…whatever this is? Between us" He gestures chaotically back and forth in the space between you, and you raise an eyebrow at him. "But this is the most work I've gotten done in one sitting in a while. Would you, uh, like to do this again? Maybe? But at more reasonable hour?" Mark takes a defensive steps back, and this throws you off for a multitude of reasons. One, Mark is acting nervous, which is something you've had the pleasure of witnessing mabe once in your time being around him. Two, he seems to be genuinely asking spend more time with you. And, to be honest, after the silence between the two of you was broken, that was also the most productive you've been in a while. And it probably wouldn't hurt to actually collaborate with him instead of trying to compete with him. Just as you began to fear you were taking too long to respond, Mark pulls his hands out of his pockets and puts them up in the universal "I'm harmless" pose, "you don't have to, I just thought I'd ask-" "sure." You cut him off before he can try to answer his question for you. He looks at you with what can only be described as gleeful shimmer in his eyes and smirked again; this time, though, it didn't have his usual venom behind it. "Yeah?" He asks hopefully. "Yeah." You smile in return, it reaching your eyes this time.

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