#fuzzy void in my bed:):)

[nappingmoon]

i’m getting so back into crochet bc I taught two of my friends how to do it and today I picked up a blanket I abandoned like 2 years ago and it’s so soft and warm and heavy already even though it’s like 1/8th done

life is wonderful and beautiful and even moreso when you pick up your hobbies again

[mothmeadow]

got a new quilt<3

[pellucid-constellations]

Trial and Error (5)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Illness, angst babyyy <3

a/n: I'm going insane and crazy and every iteration of that. I love writing this fic so much I want it tattooed on my forehead. Thanks, love you all <3

Read part one | part two | part three | part four | (bonus part 5) | part 6

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

You were in and out of sleep for the next few days—much to your displeasure. 

After attempting to down all the herbal remedies Azriel’s healer had left and continuing to care for your daughter without missing a beat, Azriel had made it clear that that would not fly. You told him several times to go home and not burden himself with caring for the two of you, but he was entirely too stubborn to listen to you. 

You even watched as his shadows left and returned with messages for him, sure that his High Lord was calling him home. 

But Azriel still stayed. 

He made food, he served the food, and he fed Melanie, coaxing her delirious eyes open to make sure she took medicine at the right times. You weren’t completely incapacitated, but it didn’t matter; Azriel wouldn’t allow you to lift a finger. 

He answered the door to the apothecary several times, sending away customers after collecting payments and restocking shelves, somehow privy to the knowledge of the store. You weren’t entirely confident that he wasn’t overcharging everyone or putting things in random places.

A few times, when sleep fought for the space in your mind, you felt fingers in your hair, along your face, across your shoulders. Each brush would send you deeper into the void you avoided so adamantly, and you were ignoring the fact that you had never felt safe enough to fall asleep in front of other people until now. 

You caught Azriel holding Melanie on a few occasions.

You would crack an eye open after an unexpected bout of sleep and he’d be rocking her in his arms, bouncing her to sleep as she lay her flushed face on his shoulder. 

Azriel had never told you if he had experience with children. Sure, he mentioned his closeness with Nyx and how much he loved his nephew, but that was… different from this. The ease with which he held Melanie, the instinct he seemed to have towards her—it felt different. Looked different. 

You felt an unexplainable sense of safety as you watched them. 

Melanie would pull back from his shoulder and arrange her fingers on the planes of Azriel’s cheeks and he would smile at her. And you felt safe. 

You found more energy on the third day of the fever. 

You got out of bed and took some semblance of a bath, fumbling around in the bathroom without much coordination. Your head was still fuzzy and an ache still permeated deep within your muscles, but the feeling was lessened. 

It wasn’t until after your bath that you realized you hadn’t checked on Melanie the moment you woke up. 

You hadn’t shot out of bed and raced to her room as you had done almost every morning since she was born. 

You hadn’t feared that she was somehow taken from your home, from your arms—that she was in danger of being ripped from your grasp and sent back to Autumn to live out the same cruel fate you were destined for. 

A small voice in the back of your mind offered a gentle whisper, reminding you that it was because of Azriel that you found that brief moment of peace. 

You pushed it back. 

With a shiver, you made your way down the narrow hallway to your daughter’s bedroom. 

Empty. 

You felt your heart rate tick up in a small bout of panic, but you were calmed by a fluttering in your chest just as quickly. The light pressure led you into the kitchen and then flushed into a warm bloom as the scene in front of you unfolded. 

Melanie was bundled up in a blanket and sat atop the kitchen counter as Azriel whisked the contents of a bowl. She was talking her head off about something that happened at school and Azriel was nodding his head with each exasperated huff she let out. Another glance told you that Melanie had eaten an entire plate of food before you’d entered, a feat in itself as your daughter hardly ate to begin with—let alone when she was sick. 

“Mommy!” Melanie cheered, wrapping her arms around your neck as you entered the quaint kitchen. “I thought you were gonna sleep forever. I wanted to wake you up but Mr. Azriel said you had to sleep to get better so he made me lunch.” 

“Lunch, huh?” you smiled, gathering her into your arms and sliding her off the counter. 

“Uh-huh. You slept through breakfast and lunch. Aren’t you hungry, mommy?” 

“Maybe a little bit.” 

“Well, you should have Mr. Azriel’s pancakes.” Melanie yawned. Her blinks became longer. “They’re so good, mommy. He should live with us and make them all the time.” 

From the stove, you heard Azriel breathe out a laugh. You glanced at him through your lashes as you held Melanie in your arms, the broad expanse of his wings barely contained in the kitchen. The shirt he wore strained against his arms as he shifted a pan on the burner and he didn’t look back as the two of you spoke. 

“I think I need a nap,” Melanie proclaimed, rubbing at her heavy eyes. “I thought I was a big girl at school now and didn’t need to take naps. You told me that, mommy.” 

You tore your gaze from Azriel’s back and offered your daughter a soft smile. “Well, you need rest to get better, too. So it’s okay for you to take naps right now.” 

“I don’t like having hot blood. This is so annoying.” 

You jutted your head back at her statement and made to have her explain, but Melanie shimmied from your arms and scampered off to her room before you could make a sound, her blanket dragging behind her. 

That left you alone with Azriel. 

“Hot blood?” you asked, leaning against the counter and attempting to appear casual in your own home. It was still surreal that he was up here—making pancakes in your kitchen—when just a few days ago, you never would have let him get past the stairs. 

Azriel hummed and flicked the burner off, leaning his back on a nearby counter to face you. “I think she heard what Madja said when she was explaining what was wrong with you both. Mel’s been calling it hot blood. I didn’t—I didn’t think it was my place to correct her.” 

You pressed your lips into a line and rubbed your forearm in some attempt of comfort. “Right.” A long pause. Azriel didn’t press you to speak. You did anyway to fill the dead air. “You really didn’t have to stay for as long as you did. I know this place isn’t what you’re used to and it must have been a handful with Mel—” 

“I wanted to stay,” Azriel interrupted. He stepped forward and placed a hand on your forehead, ignoring the tension you felt weighing on your shoulders. “You’re still warm.” 

“I feel a lot better. Almost completely fine. It would be okay… if you had somewhere to go. If you had to leave, I mean.” 

The hand on your forehead slid down to your chin and tilted your face up. Azriel’s gaze flickered between your eyes—back and forth with a furrowed brow as if trying to parse out a deeper meaning behind your words or solve a puzzle you hadn’t presented. His hand was hot against your chin in a way it wasn’t against your forehead. 

“You should eat,” he settled on. He brushed your still-damp hair back from your face before turning on his heel. “Mel was right. I make great pancakes and you haven’t eaten in a while. Lucky for you she didn’t finish all of them. She was close, but there are a few left.” 

You let him fuss, watched him as he rooted around the cupboards to pull out a plate and a glass, and tried to figure this out now that you were more coherent. 

Azriel had stayed—for almost three days he had stayed at your apartment and cared for you and your daughter as if it was expected. Each time you had woken up he had been there, coaxing water and bone-dry broth into your mouth before helping you see Melanie and then helping you to fall back to sleep. He had held your daughter and made her pancakes and he was still here. 

Could this somehow be nefarious? Some ploy to get close to you just to use you as a bargaining chip and send you back home? Had the High Lord demanded that his Spymaster keep a close eye on you and this was the outcome? 

No. 

No, that couldn’t be the reason Azriel was setting a plate down on the counter beside you. That couldn’t be why he caught your eye with a worried gaze and seemed to pinpoint your inner turmoil almost instantly. 

But why? 

His visits over the past few weeks had been welcomed—confusing at first, but a welcomed break from the mundane, anxiety-fueled life you lived. You had grown comfortable with him and Melanie had begun asking for him when she showed you her art projects or had questions about the walks of life. You had come to expect his presence in your store and found yourself looking forward to the chance to see him outside of Melanie’s school. 

But what could he possibly have to gain from making himself a constant in your life? 

You had asked before, a single question with a simple “Why not?” for a response that you had brushed off. Because it wasn’t too much of a big deal for him to stop by or help you lift the apothecary boxes or let Melanie talk his ear off. 

But this was a big deal. 

It was a big deal when he sat beside you until you fell asleep and it was a big deal that he was still standing here now, inches from you, eyes boring into yours. 

“Why are you doing this, Azriel?” 

Your question seemed to suck all of the air from the room. Azriel winced to such an infinitesimal degree you almost missed it. His fingers twitched as they rested on the counter. The plate of food sat forgotten, its intended distraction wasted. 

“I’ve already said.” 

You shook your head. “‘Why not’ was okay when you were stopping by the apothecary a few times a week and flirting with me for fun. It was okay when you were saving me from nosey teachers and opening doors when my hands were full. It was okay when this—” you jabbed your finger between your chest and his “—didn’t involve you in my apartment holding my daughter until she fell asleep. I need more than why not, Azriel. I need to understand if… if…” 

“What?” he whispered so close the air between you warmed. 

When had he gotten so close?

“I need to know if this isn’t safe. If there’s some other reason for all of this.” 

This time, when Azriel winced, he flinched. His body seemed to stun and his face twisted into a frown etched with such an uncomfortable pain it was difficult to look at. 

He spoke as his head shook. “I’ve told you this isn’t… I want you to feel safe with me. I thought I would have proved that was possible after this.” 

“You have,” you were quick to reply. “I wouldn’t have been able to take care of Mel if you hadn’t been here. But, that’s the thing. I don’t even know how you knew to come here. You walked in asking if I was okay—asking where Melanie was. I know your shadows spy, but why, Azriel? Why take such an interest in me? In us?” 

“Is it not enough to just want to know you?” he asked, his words tight and pained. 

“No. For others, maybe. But not… not after everything I’ve been through. Not when everything I have could be ripped away. I need a reason, Azriel. I can’t let this happen without one. I can’t put Melanie in danger.” 

“I don’t understand,” Azriel pleaded. He got closer, wrenching his head down to find your eyes. “Help me to understand. What danger are you in? I can explain, but I can’t protect you without knowing.” 

You let out an exasperated scoff, tugging at your hair and regretting the action as a headache bloomed. You took a step back until your back met the kitchen wall. 

“You can’t protect me, Azriel. You can’t.” 

“I could if you—” 

“It doesn’t make sense that you want to! You work for the High Lord. You spy for him! Do you have any idea what any of that means in the grand scheme of things? What it could mean if someone found out that the Night Court’s Spymaster was suddenly asking around about someone from Autumn?”

Azriel opened his mouth to respond, confusion marring his features, but you were breathing faster, the fever and the panic combining beneath your skin.

“I have stayed hidden for five years—five. I shouldn’t have sent Melanie to school. I shouldn’t have asked for help from anyone. If… if someone finds me—” 

“No one will find you. Hey—hey.” Azriel invaded your space, your back against the wall and his hands against your face. His eyes softened as they caught yours. “No one is going to find you. You need a reason why I want to be here with you? Why I care about you and Mel?” 

Your jaw quivered under his fingers. You nodded in place of speech, unable to find words that wouldn’t make tears fall down your cheeks. 

Azriel stared back at you with so much torture and conflict in his eyes you almost wanted to take back the request. He took several breaths and seemed unsure of his next words. But he held your face in his hands with such surety, strong fingers unshaken. 

The Shadowsinger brought you forward with the guide of his palms until his lips met your forehead. 

And then he pulled back and said, “You are my mate. I want to keep you safe—to protect you and Melanie—because you are my mate. You are what I’ve been waiting for for hundreds of years and if you want nothing to do with me after this, that’s fine. But if you’ll have me, I will do everything in my power to protect you.”

part 6

[tojisbestslut]

YOUR GIRL — [ambessa medarda x afab reader] part 2

∆ CONTAINS: mommy issues, praise, slightly mean/dom ambessa, strap usage, slapping. masterlist

I wish I was your girl — Lana Del Rey • [WC: 700]

She filled the void in your soul you had tried burring deep for years, no success left in sight. The comfort warming your body under her gaze was the perfect experience for your inner child, not having an older woman judge her with disgust like your mother used to. Yet again, she wouldn't look at you with affection, ambessa medarda didn't believe anyone was worthy of that, besides her own children of course.

But it was something about the fact that she was aware of your hard work, noticing you here and there through training, nodding her head slightly in approval where you'd land a good hit (one that had you crying from the pain of your muscles afterwards). It gives you a tingle in your stomach and a warmth in your heart, you were absolutely feeding off of it with no shame. Ambessa medarda was a powerful woman, and to be approved by her was, well, an honor you could say.

But things got different when she started to notice this little emotional rollercoaster you had created in your head. At first you felt insecure about it, feeling like someone found your hideout, your comfort place, and was aiming to destroy it. Your eyes would sparkle like usual as she praised your improvement, and this time, she'd slightly smirk and raise an eyebrow at the stupid happy girl standing in front of her all smiling and giggling, and that caught you off guard. She found it amusing. She had people drooling over her just for the sake of having sex, but this, seeking her attention and approval just to feel enough was something new, and she was willing to walk into it, curious where it'd end.

You sighed, the sound muffled from biting your lower lip. Seeking approval from the older woman made you listen to her so carefully, even when she was pounding into you like there's no tomorrow.

"You're being so good for me," she hummed, dragging the tip of her nose through your neck, licking the little gap between your collarbones. "Being so quiet, I appreciate it" the movement of her hips keep being steady as your thighs spam uncontrollably.

She seemed so nonchalant about the whole situation, not being out of breath even a little, the sides of your hip turning slightly red from her strong grip. You on the other hand, were trying to look at her gorgeous face through tears, vision blurred and small white dots appearing randomly everywhere.

"Shhh, it's ok" she mumbled in your ear, voice sounding like a lullaby "everything's fine" your breath hitched as she increased the speed of her pounding, filling you so good you felt like you'd die from the pleasure "you're gonna be fine" her deep voice ran through your ears, tingling your fuzzy brain in the best way possible. You felt sleepy at her comfortable voice, eyes slightly closing.

"Don't" a harsh smack was delivered to your right cheek, your eyes widening in process. Sitting up straight again, she kept thrusting into you as her dark gaze took in the helpless look in your face. "You don't sleep when I'm pleasuring you" words tried slipping out of your mouth, being replaced by stupid, barely audible nonsense your foggy mind tried making up.

Your back arched further as you reached your high, closing your eyes in the process and throwing your head back. She finished by delivering a few deep thrusts, staring at the milky liquid spamming out of your abused hole, covering the tip of her strap. Loosening the grip on your hips, your body instantly went limb on the bed, still shaking.

She grabbed your smaller body and caged you between her muscular arms, kissing your damp hair with affection. "My beautiful girl," she'd mumble, her hands creasing your shivering back "You did so well" and that was enough for you to smile ear to ear in her chest, giggling internally at feeling truly fulfilled.

ambessa medarda please beat me [TAGS]:

[arachine]

the other part of me that beats for you...

— pairing: void!robert 'bob' reynolds x reader

— synopsis: your boyfriend's alternate self pays you a visit, but something's different this time...

— genre: smut, light angst, non canon-compliant (?) bc idk much about his lore

— contents: explicit sexual content, vaginal penetration, oral sex (f receiving), dub-con (not sure about this bc reader and the void have an agreement but tagging anyway just incase), creampie, overstimulation, dacryphilia, unrequited feelings

+ playlist: 'wicked games' by the weeknd, 'in this darkness' by clara la san, 'you' by majid jordan, 'china love' by janet jackson

+ note: really try to suspend your belief with this because i don't know all the specifics about his powers, nor do i care to. when you're on this blog, you're in my domain! :3

bob is an eager lover. all gangly limbs, and hurried kisses. he's inexperienced, in every sense of the word, but endearingly confident and intentional in his actions. he's usually pretty good at keeping up with you but sometimes he'll slip—for lack of a better word—into his other self, the void.

for the most part, the switch is almost seamless...almost. you see, he likes to make an entrance, switches when you're at your most vulnerable—when your eyes are rolling to the back of your skull, and your head's all fuzzy with static. he'll never announce his sudden arrival, no, makes it a game of sorts. likes to make you guess, make you feel the difference—and there is a difference. you always feel him before you see him. and the darkness that accompanies him is ever-present as usual. all-encompassing, all-consuming.

it's intimidating the first few times he slips—but you've grown accustomed to your lover's alternate self these days, though involuntarily.

slowly, you pull away, opening your eyes with the anticipation of seeing white ones staring back at you. they're the same as ever—bright, in comparison to his physical form, almost eclipse-like—yet, devoid of life. empty. soulless. you think if you stare too hard, or hold his gaze for too long, you'll dissipate into thin air. so you break away first, fiddle with a loose thread on the sheets of the bed.

time seems to flow slower in his presence. he's still staring, still scanning, like he's looking for something—anything—(you aren't quite sure what it is), but it feels inquisitive. it makes you squirm. once, twice, almost a third time, but then he finally decides that he's had his fill of ogling. turns his attention to where the both of you are connected, then flits back up to you.

you breathe out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

"you're early," you state plainly, pushing him back by the chest with your pointer finger. the action is playful, and familiar, maybe even a little too familiar for whatever this little "relationship" is. he allows it all the same, though. lets out a smooth, airy chuckle—which is unexpected, and so unlike your past interactions. you wonder if he's growing used to you too, or if he's simply just tolerating you to reap the benefits of this unconventional arrangement of yours.

he tilts his head to the side, stays in that position for a few before answering.

"not my fault the bastard couldn't keep up," he retorts, but there's still a lightness in his tone. "he knows i have enough stamina for the both of us—knows i please you better."

a beat.

"not true," you spit, but your voice wavers, and you pray to the gods above that he didn't pick up on it. on the way your voice betrays you, on the subtle increase of your heartbeat as it thrums in excitement against your ribcage. the air feels thicker now, like it's been vacuum sealed with the two of you inside. you think you might die.

"lie," he's quick to counter, eyes squinting as if there was another one written in invisible ink on your face. "your mouth says one thing, but your body—oh, your body is so responsive."

before you can blink, he's forced himself into your space. puts his face real close to yours, so close that if you were to move even a millimeter closer, your noses would nudge (accounting for basic anatomy despite not being able to tell by looks alone). still, the swift movement is enough to throw you off kilter, and your breath catches in your throat.

"like," he drawls, a lilt in his voice. he dips his head until his mouth is aligned with your ear. "when i do this." you close your eyes in anticipation, chest rising and falling in a rhythm that sounds a lot like fear, or excitement, reimagined in song. it's like the part in a score where the instruments are in perfect synchronization. it's calm, steady, until it isn't. until it crescendos, and the instruments burst into a cacophony of beautiful, controlled chaos.

that's what it feels like when his lips meet your neck. rough, and angry, and feverish, but beautiful in the way chaos can be in the eye of a storm. he's kissing, and sucking, and grunting into your neck like he wants to consume you. eat you whole. blood, and flesh, and bones and all.

"or here?" slowly, he begins to move down, down, down. finds himself between the pastures and plains of your chests. kisses and sucks until proof of his assaults begin to sprout like flowers in bloom. you can feel him smirking against your skin in between each kiss.

you'd like to tell yourself that you aren't enjoying this, partly because it feels like a betrayal to your boyfriend, but the terrible truth is that you are—incredibly so. you have half a mind to tell him to get on with it, to do what he came to do, though you decide against it. because deep down? deep down, some selfish, sick, twisted part of you wants him to consume you. blood, and flesh, and bones and all.

his lips eventually find their way to one of your buds. he circles the flesh with his tongue, once, twice, before he begins to suck it. every nerve ending in your body buzzes with electricity at the contact. involuntarily, a whimper escapes your lips. you move to throw your hand over your mouth, but he stops it midair. pins your hand above your head and keeps it there, grip firm but gentle enough to not harm you.

there's a nasty, wet sound when he pulls off of you to speak. "told you. your body will always betray you," he says matter-of-factly, "even if your words don't." he continues his attack on your body, moving closer and closer to the place that has come to know him most intimately.

curious, you blink your eyes open hesitantly. once again, you're met with those piercing eyes. only this time, they're blown wide, the irises just barely visible. time moves slower for a second time. you count all of the seconds in between the time it takes for him to slot himself between your legs, and the moment his tongue finally meets your cunt.

and god, you swear you almost cry out. maybe you did.

he hasn't even really done anything yet, but your body's responding so obediently. it's pathetic, really. you know it is, but you can't even begin to trouble yourself with feeling all the woes and throes of embarrassment. all you can focus on is his tongue, and the obscene sounds he's making, and all the sounds your body is making. you think it's making you wetter.

until now, the void has never gone through the trouble of foreplay. partly, because he tends to show up when you and bob are in the middle of fucking; mostly, because he just doesn't see a reason for it. sex for him is purely transactional, instinctual. something to be given and to be taken.

he knows that when he's presenting, you finish regardless of the amount of effort he puts in. your pleasure is "secondary to his"—his words, of course. and for some time, it was exactly that. when his slips were a little less frequent, still, you'd fall right back into rhythm. this never-ending song and dance that the two of you keep finding yourselves in.

but now? now you're confused. even amidst your lust-filled haze, you can't help but to wonder...what's changed? when did this dynamic transition from unwilling, to kind-of-willing participants, to whatever this is? your thoughts are left to disappear into the air when he calls your name.

it startles you. he's never done that before. when your eyes meet his again, he's lifting his head to speak.

"where'd you go just now?"

your brows scrunch in response, a look of confusion settling on your face. "w-what?" is all you can say. he's stopped his ministrations, part of you is disappointed.

"it's my turn right now," he starts, "focus on me, please."

please.

it sounds like a foreign word coming from his mouth. never during any of your interactions has he used that word before. it's a little unsettling, you think. he says it, no—asks it in the most zephyr-light tone ever that it could've been mistaken for a whisper if your heart was beating any louder than it was right now.

gentle and void don't go together. they shouldn't go together. it's a contradiction to his very existence. gentle was bob, your bobby. he's good, and kind, and patient, and sensitive. light incarnate. the void? the void is crass, and unpleasant, and vile, and cruel. he's the embodiment of everything ugly in this world.

you know this, and yet—

"for a night i'd like to pretend that i'm just as deserving of your love as he is...it's my only request. can you pretend?" he queries.

there's an ache deep in your chest. it sounds like he's on the precipice of tears. unconsciously, you nod before you can even really process what he's asking of you. it's hesitant at first, then you do it again, and again, and again, like a marionette being controlled by a puppeteer.

the only thing to still your movements is his tongue when he finally dips back down to taste you. he's kissing, and sucking, and tonguing you like his very existence depends on it—and maybe it does. you always thought him and bob were so different, that he was all of the worst parts of him in physical form. but right now he doesn't feel all that unfamiliar. you see the same brokenness that you see in your boyfriend, the same hurt kid who just needed some love. the only difference between them is that one was lucky enough to get it first.

"d-don't—fuck—don't stop," you cry out, hand flying to the crown of his head, fingers threading through dark silk. he uses your words as motivation to push in deeper, tongue licking from clit to taint, each pass tilting you off your axis just a little more. the way he's licking you should be a sin, but when he adds his fingers—long, thin, and deft—you think this might actually be a religious awakening.

slowly, he forces one in. pushes it all the way to the middle knuckle, then pulls all the way out. repeats this a few more times, rubs your cunt with the flat of his hand too, before ultimately slipping back in. he's teasing you, you're sure. annoying. just as you're about to voice your irritation, he slips in two. pushes them all the way to the hilt, scissoring them slowly but deliberately as if to figure out what makes you squirm.

and he does—figure it out. rotates between scissoring his fingers and curling them. each drag is electric, each thrust intentional. he's fingering you like he's searching for something, anything. salvation? forgiveness? he's not sure, neither are you. all you can focus on is him, and his fingers, and the nasty sounds he's making while eating you out—because he asked you to.

soon, his tongue is on you again. wet, and hot, and precise. he's latched onto your clit, sucking the flesh with purpose, all the while his fingers are still thrusting deep into your core. intermittently, he'll let a groan escape his lips, followed by broken, incoherent sentences. "so sweet," "tastes good," "mine". it makes you dizzy, makes every part of your body tingle with disgust. you're...

"i'm c-close, shit, i'm gonna—!" you pulse around his fingers once, twice, before a surge of ecstasy overtakes you. you're sputtering and thrashing, and his tongue is still applying pressure, fingers still working you in. it's too much, entirely too much, but you're so dazed that all you can do is ride it out, let the tide pull you further. deeper.

"i've got you," he coos, voice syrupy sweet. he places a heavy palm on your lower abdomen while the other rubs slow, lazy circles on your clit. even amidst your post-fingering haze, you don't miss his gentle words. or the way the hand on your abdomen reaches for yours, but decides against it. lazily, you hold it out, flexing your fingers as if the gesture alone was an invitation.

a beat. another. then, hesitantly, he takes it. you flip your hands to where yours is atop his, and you trace the back of his with your thumb. for a moment, the two of you sit like this. chests rising and falling in perfect asynchronicity, breaths ragged. eventually, he pulls away, turns his head to the side as if to ponder. the sudden disinterest makes you sit up on your elbows. you wonder what he's thinking right now—feeling right now.

"where'd you go?" you mirror his words back to him. in this moment you're not teasing, no snarky remarks, or playful smirks—just genuine, raw curiosity. he sits in his silence for a bit longer, like he's trying to choose his words carefully. when he finds them, he returns his gaze to you.

"do you think you could ever...," a pause, "come to love me?" he asks, laying it all out on the table—his vulnerability. that, up until now, you weren't even sure if he was capable of such a thing. the question alone knocks the wind out of you, you sit up fully this time.

you're scared to answer truthfully. partially, because at the crux of it, this little arrangement was just that. an agreement. you couldn't have predicted this outcome, never in your wildest thoughts. this time, it's you who stills for a few moments. you know that whatever you reply with will be disappointing, but you also don't have the heart to dismiss him.

you think back to earlier, recalling the words he uttered so softly, so timidly, as if it scorched his throat just to speak them:

"can you pretend?"

finally, you nod, a small 'yes' slipping past your lips. it's all you can say in this moment—it's a lie, of course. pathetically unconvincing. you think he knows it, too. if he does, though, he doesn't say anything. he asked you to pretend tonight, and that was something you could do.

for just a night, you could pretend to make love to him, pretend to whisper sweet nothings in his ear—pretend to tell him you love him. they'd all be empty, but that's neither here nor there for right now, because when you crawl into his lap and sink down on his cock, you're embracing him like he's your person. gasping, squirming, clutching onto him like he's your tether to this reality.

inch by inch, you take him further, using his shoulders to ease yourself down until he's buried to the hilt. and when he is, you still from the intrusion. giving yourself time to adjust, you let your head fall onto his chest. from where you lay, you can hear the calm thrum of his heartbeat. it's steady, alive. sometimes you forget that this entity shares a body with your lover.

for a few seconds, neither of you move—which is unlike him, because he's never been one for patience, but right now he's cradling you. running his hands down the expanse of your back. holding you like you're porcelain. breathing you in as if to remember your scent, because who knows the next time he'll get to hold you like this. after the stunt he's pulled tonight, bob will surely try to supress him from presenting anytime soon. he doesn't blame him.

when the pain subsides, you lift your head from his chest. carefully, you give one experimental roll of your hips. you shudder, clenching involuntarily around him, and he squeezes the fat of your hips in response, accompanied by a low groan. again, you roll your hips, repeat the movement for a few before beginning to fuck yourself down on him properly.

your arms slink around his neck loosely at first, rhythm steady, methodical. every rise and fall feels electric, like the tension between two particles of the opposite charge. with every drag, you focus yourself on a new sensation, like: the grooves and ridges on his shaft, the way he's unconsciously guiding you down on his dick, the little grunts and groans he's letting slip.

it's all too much. your thighs are burning, exhaustion is creeping up on you by the second, and for once, you think you're the one who can't keep up.

"i can't—" he's already moving before you can even finish your sentence, hand skillfully holding your back while he flips your positions. your hands find his neck again, and you pull him down closer, so close that his full body weight is practically on you.

"you know, i'm just realizing this but, we've never done it in missionary before. not even me on top either. why the sudden change of heart?" you ask with a smile, voice tinged with a sprinkle of mirth and curiosity.

"didn't love you then," he says exasperatedly, "just wanted to fulfill an instinctual need." your eyes widen at the admittance. you prod again.

"when did you realize you loved me?" you ask, this time rocking your hips against him. slowly, teasing. his head droops down to the crevice of your neck, he moans. here he was trying to be vulnerable with you, something he never did, and you were teasing him. he's starting to think you're the evil one.

"i can't remember when exactly," he pulls all the way out until his cockhead is left, "but i saw the way you looked at him, you know, when i was dormant, and it made me jealous," then he pushes back in, in one hard, deliberate thrust. a guttural moan rips through you, your hands fly to his back, claw at it to ground yourself.

"yeah?" you say, voice shaky.

"yeah."

"then make love to me."

it felt cruel—asking him to do that, telling him that you could learn to love him. this whole thing was so vile, and yet, you were on cloud nine. floating somewhere up in the stratosphere, too high to come down, but too low to ignore the guilt clawing at your chest every time he touched a body part of yours with reverence. like you were something to be worshipped and kept on the top shelf, safe from things that would bring you harm.

his head is fully buried into your neck this time, he's kissing and sucking the skin as if to lay claim, as if to leave a piece of him behind. a desperate attempt to show bob that he doesn't wanna be expelled from this reality. his hips are ramming into you with purpose now, his pace increasing gradually, steadily. it feels so good, how deep inside of you he is, how the front of his pelvic bone rubs against your clit.

the room feels like it's spinning, all you can do is hold onto him. lay there and take it as he rams his hips into you, over, and over, and over. at some point, he removes himself from your embrace and sits back on his heels. his hands are cupping the front of your thighs, and he's pulling you back down onto him in slow, unhurried movements.

while he's doing so, his head tilts to the side. he's watching you inquisitively, giving you that same curious look from earlier. you notice that his eyes are blown wide again, irises almost completely overtaken by the black. it feels like you're under a microscope whenever he's looking at you like this. it would bother you under any other circumstance, but right now you can't seem to care. the way he feels inside is permeating all of your thoughts.

"beautiful," he breathes. until now, he's never once said that about you. not that he didn't find you attractive (because you were, or at least in the way he understood human standards), but because he usually liked to take you with your face buried in the pillows. he thought it helped make the act less personal, more easier for you.

but in this moment, he says it without realizing. it's more of a whisper to himself than anything. he doesn't care if you heard it or not, though, it does seem to fall on deaf ears because you don't react. you're so out of it, that the only thing you can hear is the sound of your own whimpering, and the squelches coming from your cunt.

despite how fast his hips are rocking into yours, you feel like everything's moving in slow motion. like time is slowing down for you and him, perfectly encapsulating the two of you in this moment forever. unthinking, and without pause, you pull him impossibly closer to you, encircling his head with your arms and you kiss him. it's something you've never done before, kissing his lips—convincing yourself that it was too intimate. too personal.

it starts out hesitantly, unpracticed. like the two of you are figuring out how to find a rhythm. and it makes sense, you think, because you've never properly shared a kiss. but now that you're kissing him, you realize that he and bob are truly not the same.

bob kisses you with purpose, and passion, and patience. he kisses you with a certain familiarity that is only reserved for lovers. but the void? he's kissing you with a desperation that's so sickly, it has your head spinning. he's kissing you like he's got something to prove—and maybe he does, you think.

gradually, the kiss becomes slower, and he's starting to kiss you with intent. every now and then, his tongue dips into your mouth, teeth pulling on your bottom lip. you find yourself completely melting in his embrace, both from the way he's kissing you, and his thrusts, which have become somehow even deeper. harder.

intermittently, you'll moan into his mouth. wrap your legs tighter around his middle when he hits that sweet spot that makes your back arch and your pussy clench. his thrusts are growing weaker, and your stomach is full of knots. your climax is nearing closer, and closer, and he knows it. feels it.

"waitwaitwait, i'm gonna," you stutter out, arms wrapping tighter around him. the air is so thick, and you feel dizzy. everything feels like too much, but he's relentless. now he's sitting back on his heels, repositioning your thighs and pushing your legs behind your head.

"i know," he says plainly, "so do it."

his reassurance is enough to coax your orgasm. it comes unceremoniously, and without mercy. your entire body buzzes with electricity, all the way from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. instinctually, you tug him closer to you, legs criss-crossing around his back, heels digging into his spine.

still, his thrusts persist. he's leaning forward onto you, trapping you underneath him with the entirety of his body weight. you're stuttering and babbling "i love you"s into his neck, repeating them like a mantra. hoping they'll stick, and that he'll believe them this time.

he's spewing obscenities from his mouth, burying his head into the interstice of your neck as he plunges his cock into your walls for a final time. warm, thick, white ropes of semen fill your cunt, mixing with the slick already pooled between your legs.

you drop your legs by his side and pull him closer once more. all you can hear is panting, and the sound of your heartbeats intermingling as you lay in complete silence. for a few moments, you stay like this. eyes closed, just basking in your post-coital haze, running your fingers through the strands of his hair.

until now, this type of intimacy after sex was only ever reserved for bob. but you suppose just this once it's okay. you continue your ministrations in silence for a little while longer, moving from his hair to swirling your fingertips around the skin of his back.

he leaves without warning, and part of you senses he's gone when the body atop of you begins to stir. you open your eyes to see pale skin and brown, moussey hair.

"mmm, how long was i gone this time?" he queries, voice light and airy as if he's been dreaming, "feels like it's been forever."

"oh forever, huh?" you say, cupping his cheek with your hand. "missed me that much?"

"always," he responds, though it comes out muffled when he repositions himself back into your neck. "was he nice this time?"

"mhm," you say, resting your head atop of his, "really nice." 

© arachine 2025

[fallenprophets]

I will never let you go

robert "bob" reynolds x reader

can be read as a part 3 to a house in nebraska (part 1) and told you I'll be waiting/hiding from the rainfall (part 2)

summary: usually, he's the one having nightmares, waking you in the middle of the night with heavy breathing and anxious twitching. but this time is different. this time, you're the one plagued with memories. no use of y/n, gender neutral as always, still not proofread. no spoilers

warnings: swearing, mentions of drug addiction, mentions of a bad childhood, very brief mention of suicide?

a/n: WOAH back already? i know, it's insane. hope y'all enjoy this. i want to thank beyonce for inventing music so that i could listen to ethel cain while writing this. also thank you to my own experience with Feelings- who knew my ptsd would come in handy someday

He has nightmares often. 

Since the first night, he’s been living with me; won’t let me sleep on the couch or anything, insists that I stay with him. And who am I to deny those soft eyes, his grip on my waist or on my wrist a little too tight? 

So every night, I sleep next to him, even though the bed is almost too small. 

And almost every night, he has these nightmares. 

The first time, I thought someone had broken in. I was woken by strange sounds, and found him gone; so I pushed out of bed, tiptoed into the kitchen with the revolver I keep in the drawer next to my bed. Upon seeing him, though, I realised I was mistaken. 

It was only Bob, standing completely still in the middle of the room. His breathing was uneven; the only movement I could discern was the light rise and fall of his shoulders. 

He whirled around, eyes blown wide open and frightened. In an instant, I had dropped the revolver on the kitchen counter and almost run to him, catching him half-way as he stumbled into me. And we stayed like that, his arms so tight around me. 

He never remembers the nightmares- either that, or he’s lying to me. And I like to think that I can tell when he’s telling the truth, so I choose to believe him. All he recalls is a dark, empty, frightening feeling. Says that when he wakes up, he thinks everything is gone. Sometimes, I hear him mumble- something about a void.

But I don’t press, because I’m just happy to have him back by my side; in due time, he’ll talk to me, tell me exactly what happened between his disappearance in Malaysia and now. 

I’ve become a light sleeper, to say the least. 

But tonight, he’s not the one having the nightmare. 

Ever since the incident with the void, I’ve felt… strange. Like reliving those memories fucked me up somehow, took the box I’d created in my brain so carefully for my past and opened it. Tossed the contents all over the place, left me to pick them up with shaking hands. 

So, maybe Bob isn’t the only one having nightmares. 

Only this one is bad. It’s not like the others, which I have been able to push down, pretend that those aren’t my memories mixing with my imagination replaying freely when I sleep. This one is claustrophobic, and dark, and frightening- like something awful is reaching long fingers down my throat, clogging my veins, choking me slowly. 

I can’t claw my way out this time. Can’t kick and punch and scream- can’t even get high to pretend the walls aren’t closing in on me. 

I’m in the dream for what feels like years. The details are fuzzy around the edges, but one thing is crystal-clear: the feeling that something is missing. That I’ve lost something, somehow, and that I’m not getting it back. That I won’t even know what it is that’s gone until years later, when it’ll hit me and I’ll keel over and just- just die, and no one will notice. 

I’m still half in it when I wake up. 

I sit up all at once, gasping and choking, immediately reaching my fingers into my mouth to pull that suffocating darkness out, before it can fasten onto my lungs, where it’ll fester and rot and eventually, hopefully, kill me. The blinding panic that consumes me is overwhelmingly familiar; wrenches back memories of being a child all alone, of leaving home, of losing Bob. And the emptiness in my chest- that gaping hole of missing memories and a stolen childhood, of those few months before I checked myself into rehab when I was just drifting, barely alive.

I’m so scared, and for less than a second, I’m the only person on earth, about to be consumed and- and forgotten. 

Within moments, though, fingers wrap around my wrist, pull my hand away from my mouth. I lean over the edge of the bed, heaving and coughing and spluttering as terrified sobs tear through me, making my chest and throat burn. His hand is on my back, the other arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me against his chest. 

He begins to rock me backwards and forwards as I grab onto his arm, digging my nails in. In the back of my mind, I hope it doesn’t hurt. 

My heart races, jumping like a rabbit trapped in my ribcage. I’m still breathing heavily, but his thumb begins to draw circles between my shoulder blades. He holds both of my wrists down in one hand, like he’s worried I’ll try to claw my throat open if he lets go. The pressure is reassuring, so I don’t move to push him away. 

Eventually, I turn my head slightly. He nudges forward, his nose pressing into my cheek. I lean into him, try to breathe in his presence. 

“I’m sorry,” are the first words out of my mouth once the weight has somewhat lifted itself off my windpipes. My voice still wavers pathetically, and I clear my throat, shutting my eyes against the tears that threaten to spill. “Didn’t- didn’t mean to wake you.” 

“Hey.” His voice is so soft; the tears come all at once again, following the tear tracks already made only minutes ago. “Don’t apologise- hey.” 

His hand comes up to cup my face, thumb swiping away at the tears. He’s never been fantastic at comfort- remember when I’d have my freak outs while we were both high, he’d just squeeze my hand really tight, maybe kiss my shoulder or my neck for good measure. But now, as I feel his nose lightly graze my shoulder, the familiarity of it all is crushing. Seeking more of it, I tug my shirt down, expose the skin underneath to the cold of my room. He presses a soft, gentle kiss there, at the junction between my shoulder and my neck. There’s nothing sexual about it. We’ve never been like that- crumbling in moments of weakness, taking advantage of too many feelings at once. I think it’s why we were so good as a pair, in a way. 

Slowly, kindly, he moves up, pressing soft kisses up my neck, until he reaches my jawline. My face is still wet with tears; my skin probably tastes salty with it. I wonder if he notices. He must, because once again he brushes his thumb across my cheek, light and quick, a repeated motion. 

“Nightmare?” He asks finally, so quiet. I only nod. I can hardly remember the dream- just the aching sadness, the crushing hopelessness as I drowned. 

“I’ll be okay,” I say. My voice still shakes; I swipe at my face with the back of my hand as my lower lip starts to quiver again. 

His chin rests on my shoulder, and he draws me close. Neither of us are very good with words, and we’re used to silence; so I shuffle closer, turn my head so our noses bump. 

“Thank you,” I whisper finally. He smiles. It’s one of the prettiest things I’ve ever seen, and once again, I am overwhelmed with the warmth of having him back in my life. I reach up and push his hair away from his face, trace his features with my fingertip. My heart still hammers in my chest, and I know that eventually, I’ll have to deal with the feelings, the stifling fear and sorrow of the nightmares I’ve been having. But for now, I’m with him, and I think that’s enough. 

I close the distance and kiss him again, letting my eyes flutter shut. 

This is the second time we’ve kissed. First time was his first night here, and we haven’t talked about it. But I don’t think he regrets it, because within half a second, he’s kissing me back, hand at the nape of my neck, drawing me closer. I tangle my fingers in his hair, tilting my head back ever so slightly. He’s kissing my neck, too, gentle, comforting; carefully moving the hem of my shirt out of the way again as he presses his mouth to my shoulder, then to my collarbone, right above my unevenly beating heart. 

He rests his forehead there, like he’s listening to my pulse thunder on. I let him, resting my chin on the top of his head. 

“I missed you,” I say softly, finally. “Think- think that’s maybe what the nightmare was about. Wanting you back. Like my brain hasn’t registered you’re here.” 

His grip on me tightens. 

“I love you,” he murmurs finally- quiet, vulnerable, maybe a little pathetic. 

“I love you too,” I answer, and it’s true- has been true for years. Maybe even from the moment I met him, I knew, somehow- I was stuck with him, and that really wasn’t so bad. 

I kiss his forehead, breathe in the warmth of him. “I’ll never let you go, y’know that?” I mumble. He nods- can feel it, before he shifts to rest his head on my shoulder, occasionally pressing a kiss to the crook of my neck. 

taglist - @foreverchangingmind

[cvntroach5000]

The Lads and reader with an opossum Evol

Evol summary: Allows you to turn into a very cute opossum-looking creature. While an opossum, you can use telepathy, but it can cause people headaches. You can't use telepathy while human.

reader can be mc or non-mc. no use of y/n. gendered terms used: wife (xavier), queen (xavier), girlfriend (zayne), girlfriend/girl (rafayel)

caleb calls reader "buttercup" instead of the p-word

Xavier 💫

No clue what you're supposed to be, doesn't care in the slightest

You still look adorable and he's going to cuddle the shit out of you

Wraps you in a little blanket burrito and feeds you snacks

You try pulling a Ratatouille, but it seems opossums on the head don't grant you culinary skills—At least not to this man

Likes having you sit on his shoulder when you're outside, mainly because random men don't come up to an opossum to flirt with it

Thank god there aren't any wild opossums in Linkon, otherwise this man would be fighting them out of jealousy

Who'd pass up a cute opossum like you, after all

Gets you a tiny plushie so you can still cuddle one when you're an opossum

He's very serious about quality of sleep, so a cuddling buddy for you is a must, opossum or not

Gets into a huge fight with a woman at a store who wants him to leave you outside

"That's my wife, you bitch!"

After enjoying the shitshow, you crawl off his shoulder and turn back into a human

The woman is so shocked, she passes out

Xavier is just concerned the woman might've upset you by having an issue with your opossum form

"Is this unconscious woman bothering you, queen"

He takes protecting your pride very seriously, even your opossum self's pride

Zayne ❄️

That's great and all, but he's mostly just really concerned about your health and safety

Does the Evol make you susceptible to different diseases? Are there any hereditary health complications in opossums? What if you contract rabies?

Runs a million check ups on you to make sure he's ready for any scenario

You get to enjoy being an opossum in an x-ray

Thankfully your Evol makes your opossum body all weird and human-like in its chemistry, so you're good

Once his worries have been quelled, Zayne is treated to getting to pet you and cuddle you

Buys a little fluffy bed for his work desk so you can chill with him at work

One time someone came in and was like "What's with the rat?"

And Zayne replied "That's an opossum and it's my girlfriend."

Thankfully his words were chalked up to overworked delirium

Zayne manages to capture a photo of you absolutely tearing into a macaron and has it framed and hung up in his office

Rafayel 🪸

Shrieks in surprise when he sees your fuzzy little form lounging in his bed

You explain your Evol to him via telepathy, causing him to whine about a headache for the rest of the day

He's not really a fan of land animals but... That monochrome coat... The pale pink snout... The void eyes... It's kind of inspiring him

He gets a designer belt bag to carry you around in

"Is that a fanny pack"

"It's a belt bag"

"Pretty sure that's a fanny pack"

"Girl, do you wanna sleep in it or not"

Feeds you cheetos under the table during his meetings with Thomas

Finds out some people do not appreciate your rat vibes, so he abuses it to keep people from talking to him at art exhibitions and similar events

Every single time someone asks about you, he makes up some new fake story

"I found it injured and nursed it back to health, now we're inseparable"

"It was my grandma's dying wish to take care of her beloved opossum"

"I got it from the shelter. It had three legs, but since I took such good care of it, the last leg grew back"

"It's a rescue but I like to say they rescued me."

"It's a service opossum, actually. No petting, please."

"My lover passed away in a tragic accident, but just one look into this opossum's eyes and I knew they came back to me reincarnated"

Sylus 🥀

Oh what a weird cat—Oh fuck!

Not sure what you're supposed to be at first

Looks up opossums on the internet, makes a concerned face and then insists you look nothing like one

"I was hit with an Evol yassification beam, dont @ me."

Next time you stop at the Onychinus base, he's already had a whole expansive enclosure commissioned for you

It also has a little diorama of Linkon in case you want to feel big

Which is something you never knew you wanted, so you get to pretend you're Opossumzilla in your miniature Linkon corner

Every other room at the base has a little bed for you to be a cozy opossum in

Mephisto's processor got fried after figuring out you're the critter that's been hogging his owner's lap lately, so you had to repair him

Sometimes you wake up to find some shiny trinket dropped on you, cause Mephisto decided to bestow a gift while you slept

Luke and Kieran like having you use telepathy on them, and then compete which of them can take it for longer

Sylus actually thinks the telepathy is very convenient and seems to have no issue with the headaches it causes

Sometimes has you sit on his lap during business meetings like an antagonist petting their evil cat

Caleb 🍎

When you discovered your Evol as a kid, the first thing you did was use it to prank Caleb

"You are the Chosen One."

"Do all Chosen Ones get approached by little rat creatures like you?"

"I don't know, are all Chosen Ones rude assholes like you?"

"Sorry, little guy, I can't be the Chosen One. I have to take care of my Buttercup."

Flustered by his sincere reply, you hit him with a "Yo mama."

"...What."

"Sorry that was a fucked up thing to say to an orphan."

You try to avoid the topic for about two weeks before fessing up.

"I thought the raccoon sounded like you! I was scared I might've eaten something bad..."

"I'm an opossum, you uncultured swine."

"Are you sure you're an opossum? You're way cuter than those things."

"Well I'm an Evol opossum so that's probably why."

Keeps worrying you'll eat something that's toxic to opossums

Turns out your Evol ignores that and treats your little opossum stomach like it's your human one

When you were about to turn back into a human, he threw his jacket on you and covered his eyes

Then he found out your clothes are unaffected by your transformation

This is disappointing to him, as he was hoping you'd just be naked

He thinks about that every time you transform, even all these years later

You like turning into your opossum form and raiding his pantry

He knows this and keeps your snacks stocked up for you

[anonymousjaxygirl]

Vice Day (nsfw)

Dom!Jax x Fem!Reader (Y/N Used)

I was too obsessed with this concept to let it go, so here it is🥂 I’m a pothead myself so I couldn’t resist writing some stoner!jax👀

Warnings: p in v, oral sex, rough sex, mutual consensual intoxication, degradation/praise, overstimulation, “daddy”

overall smut very little plot

(art cred: https://danbooru.donmai.us/posts/6798915)

enjoy, my iron clad waffle cones 🧇

🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪🎪

“Today’s activity will be something in house, since I know you’ve all been working tirelessly these past few adventures.”

The colorful characters that occupy the circus stood around as Caine explained the plan for the day, everyone eager (and a bit anxious) to know how an in house adventure would pan out. Especially since the last one they did ended up with a sort of… well, Kaufmosis.

“I recognize that the all ages filter can be, well, difficult for you all. So! I decided that today’s adventure will be: Vice day!

I’ll be turning the filter off for the next 12 hours, as well as any surveillance that does not include the void. Head to the atrium to retrieve your goodies and have fun, my superstars!”

“Fuck yeah!” Yells Jax immediately after Caine disappears.

You giggle at his profane outburst. He settles his gaze on you and smiles, gliding over to you.

“Wanna go get high?” He asks, smirking at you in a way that makes your stomach flutter.

“Duh” you say, playfully rolling your eyes and heading towards the table full of various paraphernalia.

Gangle, Kinger, and Ragatha sat around with their glasses of wine, talking about yesterday’s adventures; Zooble smoking a cigarette and laughing at Gangle’s already tipsy state.

You and Jax grab two blunts, a giant winding glass bong, and some lighters before heading back to his room.

Your body tingles in anticipation, you haven’t been this excited in a long, long time. Jax’s excitement was radiating off of him, his hands frantically shoving what he was holding into your arms so that he could unlock his door. He swings the door open, immediately flopping down onto his bed. He pats the spot next to him;

“C’mon!” He practically squeals. You smile, placing the contents in your arms on his bedside table before sitting down next to him. You pick up a blunt and lighter from the table, putting it to your lips.

You can feel Jax’s gaze boring into you, you assume because he’s desperate for a drag. You light the blunt and inhale quickly, handing it to him. He takes it from you, hesitating before taking a hit.

“Wanna try something?” He asks, his voice lower than usual. He gazes into your eyes with a look you don’t recognize, but the sensation it creates between your legs is enough to have you nodding eagerly. He chuckles, your willingness endlessly enticing to him. He places the blunt between his lips, taking a long drawl before gently parting your lips with a gloved finger and pulling you into him by the nape of your neck. He ghosts his lips over yours, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke into your mouth. You inhale greedily, your body shaking slightly from the pleasure invading your body.

Your head is fuzzy from the weed and Jax’s hungry gaze. Leaning back side by side against his headboard; you both take a few more drags, letting the silence and smoke fill his bedroom.

Jax puts the blunt out, meeting your eyes as he turns his face to you. You try to control your breathing, seeing as you two were merely inches away from each other now. His eyes flick down to your lips before meeting your eyes once again.

The grin that spreads across his lips is borderline sinister as he looks at you.

“You’ve got such a pretty little mouth.” He mutters, running a gloved thumb across your bottom lip. You whimper at the comment, eyes glazed over. His dick twitches at the needy sound, and that is all the confirmation he needs to attack your lips with his own.

He pushes his tongue past your lips, moaning into your mouth as you melt into him. His hands roam your body; squeezing your hips, grazing your sides with his finger tips, running his thumbs over your nipples. You shudder and gasp under his teasing touch and he chuckles darkly at you.

“Look at you, already falling apart for me and I’ve barely touched you.” He mocks, suddenly biting down on the soft flesh of your neck. You yelp at the painful nip, pain immediately being replaced with pleasure as he runs his tongue along the same spot. He takes hold of your hips, yanking you into a supine position before climbing on top of you.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do this.” He growls, pressing his lips against the shell of your ear. He trails warm, wet kisses down your neck, biting every so often before soothing them over again with his tongue.

“You walk around here, teasing me with those lips and that little giggle of yours.” He breathes, loving the way you squirm beneath him. He grinds his bulge against you, moaning in unison with you at the pressure.

“You gonna let me use your throat like a good little slut?” He purrs in your ear, sliding off his overalls before beginning to undress you. You nod fervently, unable to form words as your high mixes with the heat spreading between your thighs.

“Fuck…” he breathes at the sight of your naked figure beneath him. His dick throbbed in his hand as he thought of all the ways he wanted to ruin you. He stroked himself above you before placing his knees on both sides of your head, aligning his tip with your glossy lips. A deep, almost primal groan escapes his throat as he throws his head back, the feeling of your warm mouth engulfing his throbbing length was overwhelming.

“Ugh, yes. Suck Daddy’s dick like a good girl.” He moans, leaning forward & thrusting his cock relentlessly into your throat as he falls apart on top of you. Your muffled moans and gagging would’ve been enough to send him toppling over the edge faster than he would like to admit. He removes himself from your mouth, letting his cock flop onto your chest as he collects himself.

He admires the mess he’s made of you, the way your chest heaves underneath his dick; your swollen lips and bloodshot eyes. You start to squirm a bit underneath him, letting your fingers play with your clit as you drink in the sight of his perfect length; pulsing and begging to be touched. Jax quickly notices, and yanks your hand away from your center of need.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Bad girl. Did I say you could touch yourself?” He asks darkly, eyes full of lust as he looks down on you.

“N-no.. I’m sorry…” you whimper, avoiding his heavy gaze. He grabs your chin, pulling your face up to meet his eyes.

“Keep your eyes on me, baby. I asked you a question.” He demands, getting impatient.

“No, I’m s-sorry, Daddy.” You answer, keeping your eyes on his. He smirks, satisfied. He places a surprisingly soft kiss on your lips.

“That’s okay, doll. If you need it that bad, just let Daddy give it to you.” He says pushing your left leg up until your ankle is practically next to your ear, repeating the motion with your right leg. He moans at the sight of your dripping cunt, just begging to be destroyed. He wasn’t planning on letting your little act of disobedience go unpunished, but he couldn’t wait any longer to be embraced by your plush walls. He thrusts into you without warning.

“Jax!” You all but scream as he drives into you.

You’re a writhing mess as he uses your pussy, moaning and cursing as your walls convulse around him.

“That’s right princess, scream my name.” He groans, thrusting viciously into you. You do as he says, his dick delving deeper inside of you with every thrust. He pulls out of you unexpectedly, causing you to whine loudly in protest.

“Oh relax, I’m not done with you yet.” Jax scoffs at you. He aggressively flips you over onto your stomach, immediately sinking back into your pulsating pussy with a low moan. He pulls your hips up to meet his cock, thrusting into you hard.

“nghgh yes, daddy! please don’t stop fucking me” you beg, brain turning to mush as he fucks you dumb. He obeys your wishes, driving himself into you at a ridiculously quick pace.

“Mm fuck princess, you feel so good.. so tight and wet, just for me” he mumbles, moaning breathlessly.

“I’m gonna, fuck-I’m gonna cum, baby” you moan, pussy fluttering around him.

“That’s right, cum for me, sweetheart. Cum all over daddy’s cock.” He groans, his orgasm approaching him fast; his hips quivering as your walls continue to cease around his dick.

“Ugh, ‘m gonna cum baby” he moans, his thrusts getting sloppier as he reaches his climax. The feeling of his cock still pounding into your tingling heat trigger a second, body shaking orgasm that effectively brings Jax to his release. His hips stall, the tip of his dick flush against your cervix as he spills his seed deep inside of you. He lets out a string of curses as your still convulsing walls milk him dry.

You both collapse onto the bed, thoroughly exhausted. He rolls off of you, cum spilling out of your sensitive hole as he exits you. He’s barely caught his breath, but he can feel himself already getting hard again just looking at you all used up and dripping with a mixture of both your juices.

Mmm, maybe a few more rounds couldn’t hurt..

[strawb3rryg2l]

How to Lose 'Bob' in 10 Days

Characters: Bob x Y/N, Robert Reynolds x Y/N, Sentry x Y/N, The Void x Y/N

Summary: You thought you'd lost, your husband, Robert Reynolds forever. Consumed by the Void and the chaos it left behind. But then you woke up in a world not your own. One where he's alive. Where he goes by Bob. Where he doesn't know you. To him, you’re a stranger. You have 10 days to lose him, before everything falls apart. But the cracks are already forming. Time stutters. Reality bends. And something followed you here, something made of grief, memory, and everything you refused to let die. As you try to lose Bob in 10 days, the world unravels with every lie you tell yourself. You’ll have to make an impossible choice: hold on to the man you love, or face the truth and finally let him go. Because if you don’t... this world won’t just end. You might go with it.

Word Count: 2081

Warnings: Mentions of grief, Violent/Graphic, A dark twisted version of How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, Spoilers maybe? (Please let me know if I should add anymore.)

Note from the author: This is my work, and I will be posting on here and @ strawb3rrygal on Archivesofourown. Keep in mind these are my ONLY TWO accounts. Please feel free to reblog if you like it! I've been working on this one as I write my other fic 'The Temp' which you can also check out if you'd like.

Done reading? Here is the continuation -> Part 2 , Part 3

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Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something was… wrong.

It started with the silence. The usual commotion outside her apartment — shouting neighbors, honking cars, the occasional bark of that yappy Pomeranian two floors down—had dulled into a hushed, almost reverent quiet. It wasn’t the peaceful kind. It was the kind that felt staged. Like the city had paused to see if she’d notice.

Even the air in the apartment felt heavier, colder. Like it had forgotten how to move.

She sat up in bed, slowly, rubbing her face with both hands. Her skin was clammy. Her breath fogged slightly in the air. She hadn't been sleeping well lately. Her dreams always ended with the same sensation, falling through a place she’d never seen, toward something that knew her name.

Y/N glanced around the room, but it felt… distant. The walls looked just a little too clean. Her furniture, though familiar, felt arranged by someone else. Her plants sat perfectly healthy on the windowsill, but she couldn’t remember the last time she watered them. Did I do that?

She moved to her cabinet, rifling through underwear with robotic purpose. Sometimes, she found comfort in small rituals wearing something pretty, layering clothes like armor. She settled on a violet lace set that used to make her feel soft and strong at the same time. She tugged on thick leg warmers, worn jeans, and her favorite winter boots. The white fuzzy sweater she pulled over her head enveloped her in warmth, but even its softness felt muted. Almost unfamiliar.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she padded into the kitchen or what passed as one. After Robert’s death, she’d left behind the bigger apartment, moved closer to her office, to the city, to noise. To distraction. Now, the noise was gone. The distractions had turned their backs.

She poured herself cereal, sliced up a banana, and scattered some chia seeds across the top like she always did. She chewed slowly, eyes drifting out the window and froze.

A billboard stood across the street. Large. White background. Red letters. It wasn’t there yesterday.

Y/N narrowed her eyes. The ad was for a new Broadway show she didn’t recognize. The slogan beneath it read: “It’s not too late to come home.”

She blinked.

Was it a coincidence? A strange marketing ploy? She tilted her head, as though looking at it from a different angle would explain away the chill creeping up her spine.

She shrugged, more to herself than to anyone, and looked away. But the sensation didn’t leave.

Finished with her breakfast, she slipped on her jacket, slung her bag over her shoulder, and stepped outside. The air bit at her cheeks. Pedestrians passed her with heads bowed, not making eye contact. No one bumped into her. No one spoke. The street was the same—and yet it wasn’t.

Her building’s bricks looked darker. The corner coffee shop had changed names. The newspaper vendor on 42nd street was missing. She told herself she must’ve overlooked it. Told herself she was tired. Still healing. 

But healing didn’t feel like this.

At work, everything looked normal. Her coworkers greeted her with practiced smiles. She smiled back. She said good morning. She walked to her desk and turned on her screen.

Y/N was a writer for the nation’s most beloved women’s magazine, a voice of modern relationships and hope-filled advice columns. She had a dedicated readership. A strong social media presence. A decent salary. On paper, she had everything.

But every word she wrote about love felt like a betrayal.

She wanted more. Real stories. Stories about people who were never offered the soft landings she described in her columns. She wanted to write about the cracks in the justice system, about prisons dressed as reform. About things that mattered. Things her boss didn’t care for.

In the beginning, she made it work. Being married to Robert Reynolds had made her an expert in the language of love. In heartbreak. In grief. But then… the Void. Then Thor. And then silence.

Y/N blinked at her computer screen. Her reflection stared back, faint in the black glass. She looked… slightly off. Like the reflection was lagging. Or waiting.

She reached out to shake the mouse and for a moment, just a moment, her reflection didn’t follow. She paused. A strange pressure built behind her eyes. Then the screen flickered on. Her inbox loaded. The moment passed. She swallowed hard and forced herself to breathe.

Maybe she was still dreaming. Maybe it was just grief. Maybe she was just tired.

But somewhere deep inside, something whispered You’re not supposed to be here.

A sharp tap on her monitor startled her. Y/N’s eyes snapped upward.

Tara stood there, grinning wide, her hair sleek and pin-straight completely different from her usual crown of soft, carefree curls. It made her look polished. Almost artificial. Like someone had run her through a filter.

“Morning, sunshine,” Tara chirped.

Y/N blinked. “Morning…”

“You ready for the meeting?”

“Which meeting?”

Tara laughed shaking her head. “The pitch meeting. Elise wants something viral. Fresh blood. She's been in a mood all morning, so bring the juice.”

Y/N nodded, but her mind was still half-submerged in static. The pitch meeting. Right. She’d forgotten. That strange fog hadn’t lifted since she woke up. She couldn’t tell if it was stress… or something more invasive. Something crawling just beneath the skin of the world. She rose from her chair, pushing aside the low thrum in her head, and followed Tara toward the glass conference room.

Then stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. Inside, surrounded by laughter and coffee cups, sat Marlene. Marlene who had spent last night on Y/N’s couch, red-eyed and blotchy, sniffling into a wine-stained hoodie. Marlene, who had sworn off men forever after the barista she’d been seeing ghosted her for not owning a French press.

And yet here she was. Early. Polished. Smiling. Her posture crisp, her lipstick perfect, not a tear-streak in sight.

Had she imagined it? The crying? The whole night?

Y/N sat beside Tara and forced herself to breathe, ignoring the pressure clamping down on her chest.

“All right,” Elise snapped, breezing in with the presence of someone who lived off cortisol and sugarless espresso. She clapped once. “Let’s talk ideas. Love, lust, the dopamine dance—whatever keeps readers clicking even when their rent’s overdue.”

Stella, their photographer, raised a hand like a schoolgirl on fire. “I got Sam Wilson to agree to a spread. Flight to New York is booked. We’ll shoot by Sunday.”

“Beautiful,” Elise said with a tight smile. “Next?”

Her eyes slid to Marlene.

Y/N braced herself.

Marlene blinked. For a second, her expression went blank like someone had unplugged her.

“Uhh…” she started, stalling. “I was thinking… maybe…”

Tara jumped in, her voice a little too bright. “We were discussing the new Avengers this morning.”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. The new Avengers? That was the first she’d heard of it.

Elise tilted her head. “Go on.”

Tara nudged Y/N with her elbow.

Y/N cleared her throat, racking her brain. She couldn’t think of anything New Avengers related so instead she said: “Maybe we flip the usual love column. Instead of giving advice on what to do… we show readers what not to do. Like…” She looked at Marlene and felt a little pang of guilt at her next words. “Sabotage a relationship on purpose.”

Elise raised a brow. “Intentionally?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah…” She thought for a moment. “You know… every red flag. Clingy texts. Sudden jealousy. Oversharing childhood trauma on the first date. Show readers what bad behavior looks like in real time.”

A slow grin crept across Elise’s face. “Interesting. And what’s the hook?”

Y/N hesitated. She felt the weight of Marlene’s eyes. The clock ticked too loudly.

“How to… lose a guy?” she offered weakly.

Elise laughed, the sound sharp and amused. “How to Lose a Guy… in 10 Days. I like it.”

“Why ten?” Tara asked, leaning forward.

“Seven’s too short, and we go to press in twelve,” Elise said with a shrug.

The room buzzed with excitement. Everyone nodded. Marlene even clapped.

But Y/N felt nothing. Not pride. Not relief. Just hollowness.

Because in her world she hadn’t needed ten days to lose the love of her life.

Just one.

One catastrophic day when the sky cracked like glass. One moment when Thor’s lightning lit up the battlefield and left smoke and silence in its place. One breath held tight in her throat, when Robert, the Sentry, turned to her with eyes rimmed in black and begged her to forgive him. Forgive the thing he’d become.

Her smile stretched across her face like cellophane. Tight. Fragile.

Her fingers trembled.

“And… one more thing,” Elise said, voice slicing through the buzz. The room stilled. Every eye snapped to her. Even the air seemed to lean in.

“About the new Avengers,” she continued. “The column would really pop if the guy you lose was one of them.”

A collective gasp rippled across the table like a wave. Y/N blinked; a beat too slow. The thought hadn’t occurred to her before she’d have to actually date someone. Not theoretically. Not hypothetically. Actually. She hadn’t done that, not since Robert.

Her stomach dropped.

“I’m sorry,” she said, voice hollow. “The new Avengers?”

Marlene let out a laugh that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Have you been living under a rock?”

“There’s a whole new lineup,” Marlene went on. “Less Iron Man, more... walking HR violations.”

Tara snorted. “God. Remember John Walker? He’s newly divorced, right?”

“Ugh, please don’t,” Marlene shuddered. “He smells like Axe body spray and bad decisions. Maybe she could go for someone less... sociopathic?”

Tara leaned forward, practically swooning. “What about Bucky? He’s handsome. Mysterious. That arm?”

Y/N didn’t respond. Her pulse had started to climb, a steady drumbeat of panic behind her ribs.

Elise tapped a pen against the table, calm as ever. “Maybe we should push for a deeper angle someone off-grid. The one no one’s cracked yet.”

Y/N glanced up. Something in Elise’s tone had changed. 

“There’s a mystery man in the files,” Elise continued. “Operates alone. They’ve been calling him Bob.”

The name landed like a grenade in her chest.

Y/N’s breath caught. “Bob?”

Elise flipped through her notes, reading aloud without a shred of awareness for the horror she was conjuring. “Yeah. Real name might be Robert Reynolds. He’s not officially affiliated, but our contacts say he’s powered. Dangerous. Probably not even registered. The government’s been hush-hush. Some kind of asset gone rogue.”

Y/N stopped breathing. Her heart pounded like fists against a locked door. That name. That name.

Robert Reynolds.

Her Robert. Her husband. Dead. Dead. Burned to nothing but a shadow at the edge of a battlefield. She had watched the light leave him, seen his eyes turn black, his voice split by the Void inside him. She held his body when it cooled. He was gone. Gone.

And yet…

Tara’s hand brushed hers. “Hey,” she whispered. “You okay?”

Y/N didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her lungs had turned to glass. Her throat closed tight. This isn’t real. It can’t be real. Because nothing about her life since waking up had made sense. Her bedroom drawers had clothes she didn’t remember buying. The skyline was off, wrong buildings in the wrong places. Little things, piling up.

And now this.

Robert. Bob. Alive?

Elise looked up; one brow arched like a blade. “Is there an issue?”

Y/N stared at her, the world trembling at the edges. Like it might peel back and show her something too big to survive. Her mouth opened. Words didn’t come. But she forced herself to breathe. She had to. She had to play along. Had to get close. Had to see this man whoever he was. If it was really him. If it was a dream. If it was a lie.

“No,” she said finally, her voice hoarse and splintering.

She curled her fingers into a fist under the table, nails digging into her palm like a tether to her reality.

“I’ll do it,” she said.

And just like that, it was done. She had been assigned to destroy a man who wore the name and possibly the face of her dead husband.

And no one in the room even noticed the crack in her voice. Or the scream trying to claw its way out of her throat.

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Author Post Note: mueheh :)

[bitterrfruit]

he wakes you up

waking up hungover after letting a cocky scottish stranger spend the night. indie sleaze!Soap x reader, no cw. 1.4k words, mdni an: never posted a part 2 to my old fic trainspotting, but i wrote a good chunk of it. sleazy brow ring johnny is still close to my heart so i thought i'd share a bit of it <3

You wake up slowly, sweatily, mouth dry and fuzzy like you had swallowed a lump of cotton – so delirious, for a moment, that you expect to hear your mother calling for you to hurry up or you’ll miss the bus.  

No, instead, you hear the sparkling white noise of running water. Can’t be rain, because the sun beams brightly through your open window – directly onto your face, blinding you, sending you spinning as you tug your thin pillow and hold it over your head to shield yourself.  

Groaning, your brain throbs swollen and heavy, your skull an iron vice. You force yourself to sit upright, hoping your feet on the ground will calm the swelling nausea, turbulent in the pit of your stomach. It doesn’t.  

Bathroom. Bathroom.  

You leap out of bed, sprinting to the door of the Jack-and-Jill bathroom that separates your and Katie’s bedrooms. Throwing it open, you tumble to the toilet, hair unfortunately coating the toilet seat as your abdomen lurches noisily – tossing a pitiful spoonful of pink, cherry-flavoured vomit into the clear water with a foul splash. Ew.  

The shower is running, you realise, in the subsequent post-puke calm. You would have expected Katie to say something to your intrusion, but after a year of living together you have very few boundaries left. You wonder what time she might’ve come home during the night – suppose the bloke she went home with must have been a disappointment if she didn’t even stay till morning. No surprises there.  

You hear the thud of the shower lever and the water shuts off. After a few deep breaths, you build up the strength to apologise for barging in, sitting on your knees on the tiled floor.  

“Sorry – hic – couldn’t hold it in,” you burp, rubbing your forehead, tearing off a piece of loo paper to wipe your nose. “How was–” 

“Mornin’, hen,” comes the low voice of a man, tired and gravelly. “How ye feelin’?”  

Not fucking Katie.  

You cock your head back in shock, swiping your matted hair from your face, as your eyes shoot to the polyester shower curtain being tugged open with a screech.  

Hairy legs jut out from the cubicle, big feet land on the shaggy bathmat. Your eyes follow them upward, thick thighs, rippling muscle under a layer of flesh and furry skin. Until your stare hitches on the cock hanging brazenly from a fine carpet of brown curls – thick from base to tip, uncircumcised but its meaty pink head exposed, a hefty vein running down the length of it. Looks heavy even soft.  

You choke on any words you might be able to utter – jumping from shock, to fear, to awe, back to confusion. Who… 

“Eyes up here, bunny.” He teases you, that gruff voice barely familiar.  

A response suddenly comes to you, remembering it vaguely, and your lips form the words as if it were a realisation.  

“They’re just as pretty,” you croak, staring into the void of space before you finally glance at the man’s face.  

The shaven head, the brow ring, the glint of that golden tooth sparkling from the cocky smile that puckers dimples into his cheeks – now, yes, you somewhat remember him.  

“Ah, good. Y’do remember.”  

Suddenly humiliated, realising how much of a fucking mess you must be – you look down at yourself, seeing your vastly oversized Strokes band tee that you do not remember putting on. Nor do you remember getting out of the miniscule body suit you had worn to the party, nor peeling off the fishnets that had been flossing you from front to back for the duration of the blurry evening.  

There’s probably makeup smudged into racoon-like circles around your eyes, there must be smears of your pink lip-gloss in the corners of your mouth. If you weren't so ill, you'd run and hide from him.

“Did I-” you stammer aloud, attempting to connect the dots. “Were you at the party?”  

He tuts, huffing disappointedly, as he reaches for the yellow floral towel hanging on the rail. Katie’s towel.  

“Och, dear,” he grunts facetiously, as he rubs it vigorously over his head, patting under his chin, chest, arms. Doesn’t seem to bother asking as he uses it to dry his balls, mammoth dick flopping around shamelessly as he does so. Your cheeks burn pink.  

“You weren’t?”  

“If I’m honest, hen,” he remarks, as he ties the towel nonchalantly around his hips, tucks it in just above his mound. Still brandishes that happy trail, and the sharp angled creases below his abs that carve from his hips to his cock. “Ye got me feelin’ a bit guilty.”  

“Why?” You swallow, doing your best to stop ogling him like a little animal.  “Did we…”  

He snorts. “You wish.”  

You frown, suddenly failing to suppress the admonishing smirk that curls in your lips. “We didn’t do anything?”  

He shrugs, rubbing the top of his buzzed head with his palm. “We had a wee bit o’fun,” he admits, a twinge of shame in his rumbling throat, “but no, nothing too regrettable.”  

You find yourself weirdly disappointed. “Why not?”  

And your slightly dissatisfied query seems to lift some weight from his shoulders, he returns with a grin. “You were a bit steamed, hen,” he says. “would’ve been dodgy of me to stick it in ye while y’were like that, eh?”  

“Mm,” you nod, concealing your chagrin, the memory of running into him on the road suddenly flies back to you, colliding with you like a slap.  

A complete stranger. Naked (mostly) in your bathroom.  

“Didn’t expect you’d be such a gentleman,” you gripe, a tad facetious. 

He smiles. “Disappointed, are ye?” He jibes, tilting his head. “Y’were definitely disappointed last night. Poor wee thing. Got all whiney.”  

You flush hot as that memory slithers back to you, too. Cheeks aren’t the only thing that burn at the thought. You suddenly harken back to the weight of his palm on your cunt, the mocking pressure of the heel of his palm grinding against your clit. Your stomach drops at the memory. 

“Did not,” you murmur.  

“Uh-huh,” he chuckles at you, sauntering in your direction, he holds out a hand for you. You smile bashfully as you take it, and he lifts you to your feet so deftly you’re almost lifted into the air. “Feelin’ alright?” 

You’re a little dizzy after standing so quick, you blink heavily as you swallow. “Mm. Been better,” you huff, “I probably look like shit.”  

He frowns at that, tutting in disapproval as his raffish eyes linger on your lips – you lick them, worried there might be a speck of residual puke in the corner of your mouth.  

“Ye’re havin’ me on,” he chides, disapproval in his tone.  

“Am I?” You groan, wiping under your eyes with your fingertips in the hopes of swiping away some running makeup.  

He shakes his head. “Far too pretty to be talkin’ like that, bunny.” 

With a grimace, then a snicker, you glance downward at the chipped pink glitter on your toenails. “That’s nice, but–” 

“Psh,” he immediately cuts you off. “Don’t y’believe me?”  

Reeling in awkward embarrassment, you cross your arms, digging nails into your biceps as you look everywhere but him. Through a strained chuckle, you answer, “Not really.” 

His attention is almost intimidating; an unwavering, low-lidded glare as a smirk tugs in his lips. Tucks a hooked finger under your chin, coaxing your head to lift just slightly enough to look along your nose at him.  

From his throat, he rumbles, 

“Need me to show ye how pretty y’are, hen?” 

Your skin turns molten, glowing and pliant, eyes glossy and eager as you stare up at him through clumped lashes. He simply wears that snide little grin, proud of himself, only growing prouder as he notices how flustered he’s made you. Fuck! 

Lips part to let words free but they turn sticky on your tongue, and he brushes your chin with his thumb.  

“Look at’cha,” he sneers, letting go of your face; using the tip of his thick finger to sweep a rogue hair from your forehead with a gentleness that you’re earnestly surprised he’s capable of. His tenderness is fleeting, though, because he chuckles; “Too easy.”  

Jaw agape, you only laugh as you cover your eyes with your palms. “God, you’re such a dickhead.”  

He hums, a giggle, swaggering around you before swinging a quick smack on your ass, making you yip – casual and in passing, such a brash show of lude badinage that you can only gawk at him as he wanders into your room.  

“S’why you invited me in, in’t it?”  

Crossing your arms, you follow him sheepishly, squinting as you step into morning sunlight. “I don’t think I can remember why I invited you in, to be honest.”  

“Mm, well,” he grumbles, “I’ll have t’remind ye, won’t I?”

[astarioffsimpmain]

Cozy Up with: Raphael

[Autumn Photography by: coldoctober]

[Raphael Photography by: @tigerlyla-of-metinna]

Author's Note:

Most people wouldn't consider Raphael to be... well... "cuddly." But the cambion has his moments!

You shivered, still feeling the icy grips of death shooting through your veins as your body recovered from blood loss. You blinked, your sight fuzzy and swimming, and glanced around. Deep maroons and mahogany wood surrounded you. You were in a bed. The plush comforter had nearly fully enveloped you, and it would be difficult to move. Your muscles felt sore and stiff, and the weakness in your limbs was staggering. ‘What happened to me?’

“Ah, you've awakened at last.”

You knew that voice. Panic gripped you. Raphael. Had you died? Were you here to pay your eternal debt? What was he planning to do with you? You wriggled in the bed, moving so little that it caused your panic to rise and your heart hammered in your chest. 

“Come now, Little Mouse, your body has not healed well enough to be thrashing about.” There was a tone of amusement to his rich, deep voice; he had you right where he wanted you. 

“I-Is it time? Did I fail?” You stuttered quietly, your body slowly succumbing to your fate and relaxing back into the soft mattress. 

“No. You have not failed yet.” The devil replied, walking to the side of the bed so that you could see his face. What you saw sent your thoughts spiraling wildly in confusion. He was in his human form, his hands clasped behind his back, and his face void of malice. He smirked at you, but it held no anger. 

“I… I don't understand,” you said, watching his expression shift to one of bored indifference. 

“Your companions were foolish enough to leave your scrolls in camp. You were dying, and I could not have my favorite client perish before our deal had been completed. I returned you to my House of Hope and remedied the matter. You now rest in my Boudoir.” 

You blinked. He saved you? Gods, he really did want that crown. A bolt of icy cold ran through you all of a sudden, and you shivered violently, your teeth chattering with the sudden impact. “T-Thank you,” you muttered, curling into yourself to attempt to get warm. 

“Fulfilling our deal is the only thanks I require, Mouse,” he replied, crossing his arms. You nodded, shivering again, and he let out an exasperated breath. “Mortals are so fragile,” he scoffed. You caught a glimpse of light in your peripheral vision and let your head flop back to the side to look at him. He had shed his human skin and was now in devil form. He stood at least three feet taller and red, leathery skin stretched over protruding veins, with massive bat-like wings dwarfing even his large frame. 

He waltzed out of your vision, but moments later, you felt a dip in the bed on your other side. Your immediate reaction was to try to escape again, and you tried to wrench your body up and away from the devil, but with a single hand, he pushed you back down with ease. “Do try not to undo all of the effort I made in patching your feeble form back together,” he chided with some obvious annoyance, and you went limp immediately, thinking it better to let him do what he wants than to anger him in your current state. 

He huffed in approval and pulled you back towards him. Only then did you realize how warm he was. Your cold body shuddered at the searing contact, and you let out an unintentional sigh. “Yes, that is the idea, Mouse.” He was amused again. You heard the lilt in his voice. Suddenly, a leathery wing covered you and enveloped you in warmth. His strong arm wrapped around your stomach, and he tugged you even closer, your chest meeting his. You laid your palms against him without thinking and hummed as the feeling began to return to your fingertips. You felt yourself dip into relaxation, all the soreness slowly leaving your muscles. 

“Sleep,” the devil commanded quietly. “You will feel renewed when you wake.” 

You nodded, too groggy to make any kind of protest, and nuzzled closer to the heat of the devil's skin. Belatedly, you noticed the smell of sulfur, subtly eclipsed by the alluring scent of cherries, sinking into you as you drifted into a peaceful, comfortable rest. 

~

fin

Tagging: @knightofmight01 @micropoe10 @just-a-refrigerator @fanon-and-canon

[youracebuddy]

I'm in Love with my Best Friend

Reboot Wally x Reader

Rating- Teen

Word count- 1,407

This can also be found on AO3!

This oneshot is a gift for @kawaiialeisha!

Sorry if any part of it doesn't make sense, I mostly wrote this one right before I fell asleep!

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"Neighbor?"

Wally whispered, lavender eyes locked gently onto yours. He had requested to talk to you one-on-one today, but you didn’t have the faintest clue why.

“Yeah, Walls?” You spoke, gently patting the spot on the bed next to you. You tried your best to give him a reassuring smile, but you couldn’t seem to stop your concern from seeping into it.

He returned the smile weakly, taking the opportunity to slip next to you and lean into your side. You were quick to lean into him in return, your heart easing at the sight of a small smile threatening to break his complicated expression.

“So… are we going to talk about it, or just sit around and be mopy all day?” You teased, lifting up your other hand to ruffle his messy pompadour. He simply batted your hand away, seemingly unable to form the words that he wanted. Your smile dropped in return, only now realizing that this might be more serious than the usual shenanigans that are exchanged between the two of you.

After a moment's consideration, you decided to throw caution to the wind to see what on earth could be wrong with your best friend. You yet again reached out with your free hand, this time setting it below his chin. You gingerly pulled his head back to meet you, only to be greeted with a face full of crimson.

You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, as you’d never seen him that deep of a shade of red before. What on earth could have gotten into him?

“Dude. Are you okay? The last time I saw you this red was when Barnaby made you laugh so hard that you nearly choked!” You prodded, proceeding to gently tilt around his head further to see the extent of it. The strangest thing that you could notice, though, was it increasing in intensity the closer you got to him.

“Wait. Walls, were you always this soft?” You asked, eyes filling with wonder at the thought. Sure, you had held his hand before, but nothing could prepare you for the fuzziness of his face. It was as if it was a mixture of the finest velvet you could imagine, with the squishiness of a cloud.

Before you knew it, your other hand was on his cheek, gently cupping his face in your palms. You ran your fingers over the soft material that he was made out of, stopping just shy from his ears. During your little… discovery, his expression had shifted from shock to something much softer. His eyes were half-lidded, the void black of his eyelids unable to stop the shimmer of his lavender irises in the soft morning light.

To your surprise, he reached out his felted hand to rest on your face, flushing your cheeks with warmth. It was a new sensation, unlike anything else that you’ve felt. It slowly seeped through your bones, filling each and every inch with comfort.

“You… get it now, don’t you?”

He murmured, his smile returning once more to grace his features. He slowly traced his fingers down to the bottom of your chin, leaving your skin tingling in memory of his touch. A deep, silky laugh escaped from his lips as he continued.

“Whenever you touch me, the strangest things happen to me. Before, it was just the same as usual. But now, for whatever reason…” To express his point, he took his hand off of your chin, bringing it up to rest atop of your own hand cupping the side of his face.

…You didn’t want to think about how deeply you wished for him to do it again, or how when he nuzzled his head into your hand it felt right.

“That happens.” He whispered, letting his eyes flutter closed. He sighed deeply, clearly still trying to get to the bottom of this.

You, on the other hand, had some ideas.

“Walls, can I kiss you?”

His eyes shot open, and he practically fell off of your bed in shock. When your brain finally processed what you said, your face felt like it was going to simply melt off from the heat.

“W-WAIT, I KNOW THAT SOUNDS REALLY WEIRD!” You yelped, frantically waving your hands in front of you to try and snap him out of his thoughts.

“Well, it’s usually related to something romantic when you first feel this way, right? Then, if we kissed, wouldn’t it… tell us if we liked each other?”

Wally thought this over for a moment, before slowly nodding in confirmation. It did nothing to stop the blush on his face from deepening further, however.

You thought it was really, REALLY cute.

Taking a deep breath to calm down your now fluttering heart, you silently opened your arms to him for an invitation to come closer. His eyes flicked down to your arms, then back up to your eyes, as if asking if this was really okay with you. After a small nod of confirmation in response, he wasted no time to close the space between the two of you and snake his arms around your torso, gently pulling you close.

You quickly returned the embrace, already feeling your nerves calm down from the hug. The two of you were always affectionate with each other before, but it just felt… different, to say the least.

It felt like you truly belonged somewhere, for once.

After what felt like hours of just holding onto him, he slowly brought his head up out of the usual crook of your neck he kept it in, glancing down to your lips.

“...Of course you’re shy right now, Walls.”

You murmured, unable to stop the affection you felt towards him from seeping into your tone. You brought your hand under his chin once more, pulling him closer with a sense of tenderness that you didn’t even know you were capable of.

Running your thumb slowly across his cheek, you leaned forward, and gingerly kissed him on the lips. His felt was ticklish against your own lips, causing you to pull back out of surprise. You opened your eyes to look at him, only to see him gazing back at you with the saddest expression that you’ve ever seen. Letting out a quiet snort and a whispered “sorry”, you brought your lips back to his.

Now ignoring the ticklish sensation, you allowed yourself to fully focus on the kiss.

His lips were soft, of which was greatly expected due to the fact that he was made of fabric. But, as the kiss continued, you couldn’t help but notice how he was melting into you.

His grip on you slowly loosened as he allowed himself to fall limp against you, leaving the warmth of sunshine wherever he touched. He was completely snuggled up to you within mere seconds, bringing up his hands to pull your head closer to his.

With that final movement, you suddenly started to feel the kiss in its entirety. The warmth of his lips slowly seeped into yours, sending a shiver down to your spine.

You deepened the kiss further without a second thought, slowly moving your mouth against his in a loving, tender dance. Your fingers slowly ran through his now-ruined pompadour, arms keeping him firmly in place.

The kiss continued for as long as you could hold your breath, not wanting to rip away the sheer trust and vulnerability between the two of you. But, just like everything else, it had to end.

Breaking off the kiss, you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his, greedily gasping for air. Your eyes fluttered open, instantly scanning his expression to make sure you didn’t accidentally make him uncomfortable.

To your great relief, there wasn’t a hint of pain in his expression. Instead, his eyes were half-lidded and filled with warmth, his smile goofy and lovestruck.

“I’m in love with my best friend.”

You breathlessly whispered, fresh realization dawning across your mind. When you focused back on him again, any worry about the new development completely vanished.

In the short time that your brain had wandered off, he had settled himself back against you, his body splayed atop of your own. He was gently nuzzling his face into your hair, letting out small, occasional mumbles and whispers that you couldn’t make out. The only thing that mattered to you was that he was happy, and you were too.

“I love you, Walls.”

“I love you too.”

[lovelyverosika]

I keep thinking about his angel eyes

Hazbin Hotel! Adam x Fem!reader

Part 3 —> Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: talk about self hate

A/N: Here is the part 3 everyone wished for. I decided to make a total of 4 parts, so you sadly still need to wait a bit for the end :,) Like always I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes.

Y/N POV:

I found myself in a room similar to a movie theater. I’m not able to move a single muscle in my body. Suddenly a movie started playing, memories of my life in heaven or more specially about Adam and me. I smiled and felt all warm and fuzzy inside as the memories of our growing relationship were displayed right in front of me.

The first time we met, how we fought at work, how we began to spend more time with each other, our first dates and how he took his mask down for the first time. This may sound exaggerated but that was the proof of how much he trusts me and oh lord was he gorgeous. His golden eyes had me captured the moment I looked into them…his beautiful angel eyes. Nothing was more beautiful than seeing his true emotions reflect in them. Everyone knew him as "The first man" or the self quoted "Dick master" but I know it better. Deep down he’s a insecure soul who’s desperate for admiration and affection, especially after loosing his two previous wives to the same man.

Of course he was a total asshole when I first met him but he changed for the better and that out of his own will, that is something not everyone is willing to do. In a flash of seconds more memories were shown: Our first kiss, anniversary and lastly our wedding. It was a very magnificent day, I never ever thought I will find a lover let alone get married to someone. Everything was just perfect until the court accident today.

Suddenly everything went black. I don’t know where I am or what to feel, this is stranger than any dream or nightmare I ever had. I slowly stood up as a sudden blow of cold air hit me. I wrap my arms around myself as I start walking around in this strange void. All I can hear is my own heartbeat,breathing and the sound of my heels clicking on the ground. After what felt like an eternity I found a single white door in the middle of this nowhere.

Not knowing what else I should do I open the door and enter another black space with a single mirror standing in the middle. This is all so strange and overwhelming I couldn’t prevent myself from tearing up..pathetic that’s what I am. I took a deep breath and walked towards the mirror. I looked like an absolute mess with my eyes puffy from all the crying.

Suddenly the reflection changed in how I used to look like back then in hell. "Helloooo, redeemed or not I’ll always be a part of you.”, my reflection said. I was completely stunned…how is that even possible? "Do you remember what you used to tell your friends back then in hell? You said and I quote: You don’t need to be perfect to be worthy of being loved or deserving a better life. Everyone deserves a second chance and that goes for you too." My old self gave me a big smile and I couldn’t help but smile too.

In a way she is right but accepting yourself is much harder than people say. It takes lots of time, patience and willingness. My reflection gave me a look full of pity before she started to speak. "You probably think he will leave you, hm? Of course that can be an option but would he really? It’s like Rosie said it’s difficult to admit things you’re not proud of but you’re still you. The fact you used to be a demon doesn’t change the person you really are, the person he grew to love and cherish. It seems like we’re running out of time..it was nice seeing the person I became. You’re much stronger than you think.", she chuckled and waved at me. "Farewell Y/N..it’s time to wake up now. Emily must be going insane from how much she worries about you."

My reflection disappeared and left me with a warm feeling inside my heart. With a smile on my face I walked through the mirror and woke up in a bed, which must belong to Emily. In less than a few seconds Emily wrapped her arms around me, hugging me tightly. "You’re awake, I was so scared you wouldn’t wake up.", she said while sniffing onto my chest. I couldn’t help but smile, she’s such a sweetheart. "Shh, I’m here now.", I said while patting her back.

Part 4

[eunchacha]

CHAMPANGE TOAST - sae-byeok x ji-yeong x f!reader GENRE: fluff, headcannons! WARNINGS freaky people SYPNOSIS them as ur pretty, beautiful, kind smart and all the other synonyms girlfriend WC n/a TAGLIST none yet!

AT HOME:

ᡣ𐭩 sae is quietest at home, but she's observant. She watches u and ji-yeong live your day like she's memorizing everything. She loves to stand in the doorways, just watching u two laugh

ᡣ𐭩 Ji-yeong brings the playfulness. She'll be making breakfast with one headphone in, dramatically lip-syncing nirvana or NewJeans into a spatula, and pulling you into pretend dances in the kitchen

ᡣ𐭩 You and ji always pull sae into whatever you guys are doing - Even if sae rolls her eyes and complains, theres a hint of smile

ᡣ𐭩 Movie nights are a must atp.. Ji-yeong brings snacks (too many). You pick the movie. Sae-byeok just lays with her head in your lap, half-watching, half-unfocused.

ᡣ𐭩 They both like physical contact, just in varying ways: Ji-yeong is clingy—she dives over you, hugs you from the back, sleeps on your chest. Sae-byeok is subtler—soft handholds, silent gazes, forehead kisses when she thinks you're asleep.

SHOPPING

ᡣ𐭩 Ji-yeong likes to try odd snacks in supermarkets and drag both of you to the plushie area to see what it has "just to look." She never leaves without buying at least one.

ᡣ𐭩 Sae-byeok is the kind to keep an eye on the budget and hold your basket. She'll quietly pick up your favorite candy and sneak it in when you're not paying attention.

ᡣ𐭩 When you're out shopping for clothes, Ji-yeong totally tries stuff on like it's a fashion show or something. Sae-byeok likes to chill and just watch, but whenever she actually tries something on, it’s always super cool without even trying.

ᡣ𐭩 Ji-yeong is taking mirror selfies in the dressing room. Sae-byeok photobombs them from time to time, deadpan expression, but clearly having fun.

ON TRIPS

ᡣ𐭩 Ji-yeong makes playlists before the trip and insists on being the DJ. She’ll scream-sing Blood Orange one minute and cry to acoustic songs the next.

ᡣ𐭩 Sae-byeok is the map-holder and the one who actually gets you all where you're going. She loves nature but won't admit it. You’ll catch her smiling at a quiet sunrise or touching wildflowers gently.

ᡣ𐭩 Hotel nights are full of chaotic room service, spa masks (courtesy of Ji-yeong), and you three bundled up in one bed like cats.

ᡣ𐭩 On long car rides, Ji-yeong falls asleep with her head on your shoulder, Sae-byeok drives one hand on the wheel and one holding yours.

MINI SCENE - no electricity..

The fan stops first.

It's a small thing, a click and then nothing — but in a sweltering summer apartment where you're all three crammed into one bed like a litter of sleepy kittens, it's a catastrophe.

Sae-byeok is the first one to wake up, blinking into the dark.

"It's hot," she mutters, voice rough with sleep and irritation.

You wake up later, squinting into the super dark room. No moonlight, no hallway light, nothing. Just the gentle snoring of Ji-yeong beside you and this comfortable warmth like a fuzzy blanket over your chest.

"..the power's gone out," you murmur.

Sae-byeok grunts. "No shit. I'm sweating through my shirt."

You hit sae-byeok on her arm, she winces.

In that instant, Ji-yeong sits bolt upright, hair a wild halo, eyes open wide like a raccoon.

"Why the FLIP is it dark?" she whispers dramatically. "Did we die? Is this the void?"

You blink. "bro.. Its just a power outage..."

"We're in the purge," she whispers.

"No.. bro," Sae-byeok whines on the opposite end, kicking the blanket off with a big thud.

Then Ji-yeong goes full-on freaky mode

She begins whispering in this eerie, slow voice, "you smell good.."

You shudder. "chill out..?"

Sae-byeok complains, "Stop. It's too hot for this shit."

"Too late," Ji-yeong says, crawling towards you in the darkness. "i swear im gonna touch you."

You feel her arms wrap around your waist theatrically like a sloth.

Sae, who cant see shit can only hear your complaints about ji-yeong.

"SHES LICKING ME -" You whine, trying to cling onto sae-byeok.

"what the fuck gang.." Sae-byeok sighs from across the bed. “If anyone touches me, I will fight.”

Ji-yeong giggles "What, not even a little cuddle?"

Sae-byeok: "It's 30 degrees. I'm literally going to jump out the window."

"open the window then, miss." you say, the heat getting to you

Ji-yeong: "we should have an orgy right now.."

then theres a confused "... what." coming from you.

"Man, I really love you guys, but seriously, you two are impossible." sae whines.

Ji-yeong snuggles closer to you, her face all scrunched up against your chin. "She loves us," she whispers like it's a huge secret.

You brush her hair. "She's just grumpy without air-conditioning."

So, with a soft clunk and some rummaging, Sae-byeok finally retrieves her phone flashlight and switches it on — totally blinding the two of you.

You and Ji-yeong cry out like gremlins scorched by the sun.

"serves you right," Sae-byeok says matter-of-factly, hanging up the phone and crawling forward despite herself.

When the light returns after an hour, all of you are stuck together once more, grumbling and sleepily — but so close, warm hearts and feeling cozy and heads just resting against one another like a mass of roots. The power's back on.

But wait, don't move yet. Because love, even in sweaty darkness, is strangely perfect.

[aetherdoesthings]

hanahaki!reader x arlecchino pt 3

forethoughts: as this series ends, i'm going to start sifting through my inbox to see requests i haven't done and fulfill some in due time. so if you want, why not add more to the pile? it's open! just read the rules first found in pinned post!

notes: reader is still drunk!!! modern setting, arlecchino and reader are actresses, fem!reader, hanahaki au

Arlecchino let out a chuckle, her head coming closer to your view as she examined your form. “Oh, darling. You finished half the bottle. Certainly enough to get you wasted, but not your desired outcome.”

You let out a whine as your body was moved, head resting against something soft, your knees and shoulders supported by arms that lifted you like you were just a piece of paper. In your drunken state, you found yourself leaning closer to the source of heat, nuzzling your head closer to the source of heat and the steady beat of Arlecchino’s heart. You swore you heard a soft chuckle from above, which made your heart churn and your lower half all fuzzy again. 

“Too bright for those eyes, darling?” Arlecchino smiled at you, using her shoulder and head to block the harsh lights from hitting your half lidded eyes as a warm gush of air was plastered over your body.

“I know, I know, don’t worry. We’re almost there.” Arlecchino continued to carry you in her arms, as you listened to the steady beat of her heart thump, a melody you could never grow tired of listening to. 

“Where’s your key, darling?”

“Pocket…”

Without rocking your head or forcing a whine out of you, Arlecchino grabbed your key, shoving it into the door to your trailer as a familiar scent filled your nose. 

“A-Arle…” You mewled, your hand flapping against her chest, tugging on her satin dress that blended in with the night sky and the darkness of your trailer. 

“Yes, darling?” Arlecchino chuckled at your nickname for her, as your body was laid down on a soft surface, cold and fluffy blankets covering your body up to your neck. Pillows were placed underneath your head, your hands scrambling for Arlecchino’s sleeve. Arlecchino instantly offered her hand for you to cuddle with without hesitation, using her free hand to brush the hair out of your face.

“...I…” Everything that had some sense of conscience and rationality was screaming, attacking your mind to stop your ill self from talking and doing anything further. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Well, not how you envisioned it to be. It was always going to be you dying alone because of the damn disease, forever stricken and tormented with guilt and denial.

Not with Arlecchino���s hand on top of your heart and sitting on your bed watching your drunk self writhe around and spill everything you once planned to take to the grave. The idea of spilling everything in front of the woman you loved to death made you want to claw your skin off and dig into a ditch and perish.

Your body erected itself in its spot, adding to your preexisting nausea as you hawked, the flower becoming more and more uncomfortable to get out. You watched the single petal drift onto your blankets, right in front of Arlecchino.

“Interesting.” Was all Arlecchino said. Like she didn’t watch you cough out petals before.

“Does it hurt?” Arlecchino asked, her hands guiding your body back down to the mattress.

You glanced at Arlecchino, avoiding those crimson crosses that danced in those dark voids, fingers fidgeting with your blanket before nodding your head. You supposed lying in your bed with the love of your life by your side was how you were going to go out. 

Better than dying in a broom closet.

“Oh, my poor darling…” Arlecchino’s thumb brushed against your temple, rubbing soft circles as her fingers petted your head. A sigh of relief and comfort was ripped out of you at the action, nuzzling your head into the touch as if you were a puppy.

“How much longer are you going to suffer and deny yourself of your feelings?” Arlecchino sighed, looking at you with a bittersweet smile.

You stared at the ceiling, contemplating the many answers that were in your head. Because Arlecchino wouldn’t ever say yes. Because you were a masochist. Because you were a coward. 

“...I’m scared…” Was what you chose at the end, your head tilting towards Arlecchino like an unoiled robot. “...that I’m going to die.”

Arlecchino’s crimson glow dimmed, the grin on her face turning into a thin line, as she continued to pet your head. 

When Arlecchino remained silent, your mind took it as a chance to do the one thing you swore never to do.

“...I-I…have always been a fan of what you do, a-and always watch your movies and films; everything. I-I like watching your interviews online, I’ve always found you were much more entertaining and interesting to watch. E-Everytime I looked at you through the screen, my heart always did a backflip and my stomach always twisted into itself, and I n-never understood why. T-Then I got to work with you, which was a once in a lifetime opportunity, a-and initially I was scared to commit and a-actually work with you, b-because I’ve seen everything you do, and you always perform like you knew you were the star, and everyone around you were mere background actors meant to support you and carry your energy to the audience, always carrying that confidence wherever you went. And I just kept thinking t-that no way I was able to match your level and finesse as some rookie actress I was, b-but I took it, a-and then I actually met you, and that same feeling came back, making my insides all fuzzy and warm. I c-couldn’t explain it. B-But then I started to cough, I started to cough up flower petals, which was i-insane, and I thought I was in a dream. I mean, I was able to work with you and spend so much time with you, but then I started coughing up flower petals, and I-I remembered about that hanahaki disease… a-and I realize those feelings… o-of always smiling whenever I see your face and my heart going a thousand miles an hour when I’m close to you… I… I was in love with you. A-And I was scared. I was scared of being in love with you. Because y-you’re… you’re a queen! Y-You’re the queen of Hollywood, and I-I’m just a D tier actress lucky enough to stumble my way onto a set with someone like you, a-and… and I sound like a total freak and perv and weirdo for being so obsessed with you… a-and I understand. I-I.. I knew you wouldn’t e-ever say y-yes, b-because well, y-you’re you, and I-I’m me. A-And I was going to die because of this damn disease, s-so I-”

A warm feeling surged through your body, searing through your veins. The fire that was brought upon you was overwhelming, something you never imagined yourself experiencing in a lifetime. Your hands scrambled around to find anything to grab onto, to stabilize yourself from the foreign feeling. Like a lost child trying to find their mother, your hands flew towards Arlecchino, craving and desperate to feel her warmth and feel the steady beat of her heart, never ceasing to calm you down and provide you a sense of clarity. You held onto her shoulders for dear life, nails clawing into her bare skin. Your mind was in a fight or flight mode, panicking between removing yourself from the source or letting yourself free and fall deeper into the feeling. A gasp exits your mouth as the fire enters your lungs, burning the disease that plagued your body, that plagued your very existence, cleansing it from your system. A clear, fresh wave of air entered through your nose, filling your lungs with the oxygen it craved, once and for all restored back to its original form. 

You opened your eyes, letting your senses go back to work. There was a hand around your cheeks, holding your head in place to wherever the owner of the hands desired, which was directed at the person’s face. Arlecchino looked at you with a soft smile on her face, her thumbs reaching for your eyes as she wiped your tears away. 

Oh. 

You were crying. 

A lot.

“You ramble a lot, don’t you?” Arlecchino chuckled, her lips coming in contact with yours, providing another sense of warmth and heat to your body, clearing any more damages done by the disease.

“I-I’m s-sorry-”

“Don’t be. I’ll happily listen to you ramble all day, all night. Everyday when I’m by your side.”

“Y-You will?” A small hopeful smile crept onto your face.

Arlecchino returned the smile. “Of course, my darling.”

You looked into those crimson eyes, that small genuine smile that never ceased to make your day and make your heart flutter. Your eyes bored into Arlecchino’s, silently asking if it was finally okay to let your feelings out, to let yourself feel what you had denied yourself all these weeks. Arlecchino’s smile and gaze was enough to give you your answer and grant your request.

“...I love you.” You murmured under your breath, unsure if Arlecchino even heard it.Arlecchino smiled back, placing her forehead against yours. “...I love you too, my darling. You are the only star that shines in my eyes. The one that lights up my world. Never put out your own flame, my love. You’re much more than what you call a D-tier actress. You’re my star in my heart. Never doubt your importance to me or to the world, my little star.”

[zesty4zenin]

“𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞”

YAN!FEM!KNIGHT!TOJI FUSHIGURO X PRINCESS!READER

Your father gets you a new knight after your old one was mysteriously found dead. But it seems like she wants to be more than just your knight…

WARNINGS: death and nothing else in this chapter. But things will get darker as I continue this story. There will be gore, murder, smut, drinking, kidnapping and more later on. Please stay tuned :3

You awaken with a gentle yawn, stretching out the remnants of sleep. It was a surprisingly peaceful rest, void of any unsettling dreams.

As you become more aware of your surroundings, a soft, fuzzy sensation tickles your leg, prompting you to look down.

There, in her casual attire with a dagger secured at her hip, kneels Toji. She's asleep, her head resting on your lap, lips slightly parted as she breathes calmly.

She was so pretty.

Your hand moves instinctively towards her head, hesitating just above, when suddenly her grip tightens around your wrist, causing a slight wince to escape your lips.

Toji stirs awake instantly, releasing your wrist and rising to her feet with a swift apology. "Sorry, princess. It's my instincts," she murmurs, gently pressing kisses onto the spot where she had grasped you.

You watch as she stands, her expression a mix of guilt and concern. "You scared me," you admit softly, rubbing your wrist.

Toji gives a crooked smile, scratching the back of her head. "Yeah, my bad. Can’t help it sometimes," she says, her voice tinged with genuine remorse. She steps closer, her eyes locking onto yours. "Didn’t hurt ya too bad, did I?"

You shake your head. "No, it’s fine. Just startled me."

Toji nods, relief washing over her features. "Good. Ain't wantin' to hurt ya, princess." She pauses for a moment, then adds, "I just wanted to make sure you were safe, even while ya slept."

You give her a reassuring smile, though your concern lingers. "I appreciate that, Toji. But you need to take care of yourself too."

Toji's eyes soften, and she steps closer, gently taking your hand. "I know, but protecting you is what matters most to me."

Before you can respond, Toji kneels beside the bed once more and lays her head back in your lap. Her eyes flutter closed as she nestles against you, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

You rest your hand on her head, your fingers lightly threading through her hair. "You really should get some proper rest, Toji," you say softly, though you can't deny the comfort of her presence.

Toji's voice is a murmur, barely audible. "I rest better knowing you're safe, princess."

You watch her, a mix of concern and affection in your eyes. "Alright," you whisper, continuing to gently stroke her hair. "But promise me you'll take care of yourself too."

"Promise," Toji replies, her voice already heavy with sleep. "Just… let me stay like this for a while."

You nod, even though she can't see it, and continue to comfort her, feeling a strange blend of worry and warmth as you watch over her.

You continue to stroke Toji's hair, feeling her relax under your touch. After a few moments of silence, she speaks again, her voice quiet and vulnerable. "Ever since I started being yer knight, I couldn't sleep without checkin’ to see if you’re okay. So one night, I just fell asleep while checkin’ up on ya."

Her words make you feel a bit unsettled. "Toji, how did you get in at night?" you ask softly, your curiosity piqued.

Toji shifts slightly, her eyes still closed. "I've got my ways," she murmurs, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "But don't worry, princess. I'd never do anything to hurt ya."

Your concern for her well-being quickly outweighs the oddity of the situation. "Toji, you need your sleep too," you say gently. "If it's that bad, you can stay in my room."

Toji's eyes open slightly, a look of surprise and gratitude in them. "You mean it, princess?"

You nod, smiling softly. "Yes, I mean it. Just promise me you'll get some proper rest, okay?"

Toji's expression softens even more, and she nestles her head deeper into your lap. "Thank you, princess. I'll stay right here then, if that's alright."

You smile down at her, continuing to run your fingers through her hair. "It's alright, Toji. Just make sure you get some more sleep."

Toji lets out a contented sigh, her eyes drifting closed once more. "I will, princess. Thank you."

You watch over her, feeling a mixture of affection and concern, but knowing that, for now, she feels safe and comforted in your presence.

Toji's head rests comfortably in your lap, her eyes closed and her breathing even. Outwardly, she appears calm, but inside, her thoughts are a whirlwind of emotions. She can hardly believe how close she is to you, her beloved princess. Each gentle stroke of your fingers through her hair sends shivers of delight down her spine.

Despite her composed exterior, Toji's heart races with excitement. The warmth of your presence so near fills her with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Being allowed to stay in your room, to sleep so close to you, to be with you this close, feels like a dream come true.

Her mind replays your words over and over, savoring each one. "If it's that bad, you can stay in my room." The invitation echoes in her head, making her heart swell with joy. She had always kept a watch over you, even when she wasn’t a knight, ensuring your safety from the shadows, but now she is here, with you, and it feels perfect.

Toji's thoughts are a blend of protectiveness and adoration. She would do anything to keep you safe, to see you smile. The fact that you care for her well-being, urging her to get proper rest, only deepens her feelings. She never imagined she'd be this close to you, and now that she is, she wants to cherish every second.

As she drifts back into sleep, her last conscious thought is one of profound contentment. Being near you, feeling your gentle touch, and hearing your soft words make her happier than she could have ever imagined. With a final sigh, she succumbs to sleep, her heart filled with love and excitement.

A FEW HOURS LATER…

You're in the sitting room, enjoying a slice of cake with Toji. It surprised you to learn that she had never tried anything sweet before. How could anyone live without indulging in something sweet now and then?

"You have to try this," you insist, offering her another forkful of cake. Toji hesitates for a moment before accepting it, her eyes widening slightly at the taste.

"This is… good," she admits, a hint of surprise in her voice.

You laugh softly at her reaction, delighted to introduce her to something new. As she takes another bite, a smear of icing ends up on her cheek. Without a second thought, you reach for your handkerchief and gently wipe it away, your smile warm and genuine.

Toji returns your smile, but there's something in her expression that gives you pause. It's almost predatory, like she's savoring more than just the cake. You brush it off quickly, reminding yourself that looks can be deceiving.

After all, Toji is your loyal knight, sworn to protect you. There's no reason to doubt her intentions, especially over something as innocent as enjoying cake together.

As Toji savors the sweetness on her tongue, her mind races with thoughts and memories. Every obstacle she had overcome to reach this moment felt worth it. Being able to share these precious moments with you, to see you laugh and smile, made everything worthwhile.

Her thoughts briefly flicker to Hiro, your old knight. He had been loyal, yes, but he was an obstacle in her path. Toji had dealt with him swiftly and efficiently, ending his life without a second thought. She had justified it to herself as necessary, a small sacrifice for the greater good of being close to you.

Now, sitting here with you, sharing cake and laughter, she felt vindicated. All her efforts, all the bloodshed, and all the sleepless nights spent watching over you were worth it. This moment of simple joy was her reward.

Toji's eyes remain fixed on you, her smile softening slightly as she takes in your every movement, every expression. She thinks about how far she's come, and how much further she's willing to go to ensure she never loses this closeness with you.