#love and deespace au

[earlgreylatte]

Messages From the Stars ⋆｡°✩

(Green Lantern Caleb x Reader) Pilot turned intergalactic ring-wielding hero? Real original.

Dividers from @enchanthings

In a world of gods and monsters, Caleb considered himself perfectly average, growing up alongside you, his pipsqueak, who still treats him like a lackey, with your demands of him to fetch you snacks when he comes back home.

You would argue his talent and rapid growth as a fighter pilot makes him extraordinary, at the very least.

As bittersweet as it was to watch you forge your own path without him at your side, he was content with life. Of course, things never seem to go his way, when during a routine flight test, he’s struck down and held hostage by a terrorist group.

Feeling the weight of the necklace given by you in the secret pocket he sewed into his pants (definitely not regulation), he realizes more than ever that he wants to live, to come home to you, even if you would be fine without him, even if it makes him selfish. So, he decides, even it’s nigh impossible, he will escape and return to you, no matter the cost.

And as if attracted to his sudden desperation, a green ring appears (“Caleb Xia, you have the ability to overcome great fear. Welcome to the Green Lantern Corps.”) and what happens next is a blur of green light and shouts.

He doesn’t stay any longer than that, shooting up into the sky, more than ready to go home, letting his base know he’s alive a not a priority at the moment.

He bursts into your home, nearly blinding you with the green glow of his ring, his frantic expression melting into a sheepish one, noticing the broken glass scattered across the floor from his entrance

“Uh, hey, pipsqueak, guess who’s not dead…?”

“What are you wearing—no! Where have you been? You’ve been reported MIA for a week! And—and how are you doing that!?”

Amidst your panic, a green broom and dustpan began to sweep up the glass.

“Huh. I’m not really sure, actually…by the way, are those instant noodles I see on the table? How many times have I told you—“

“CALEB.”

Ends up using the ring to do some good after you encourage him to do so, stopping natural disasters and beating the shit out of thugs to keep the city safe for you.

Annoyingly enough, the ring seems to attract trouble, with villains crashing your dates, forcing him to sigh before suiting up to eliminate whatever’s in your way with more spite than necessary.

Definitely teases you for being so bossy when you demand him to make certain constructs, but his ring is always at your disposal. Create paper airplanes to bother you and makes constructs to hold you in place or spin you around.

Becomes more concerned about your security because of your connection with him. Tries keep his secret identity, well, secret. Checks in a lot and full on demands you stay in when a crisis arises.

When other Lanterns appear to take him to Oa for training and get him set up in his own sector, he nearly quits until you stop him. Doesn’t really want to be apart from you, but your desire for him to do good wins out.

Definitely sends projections of himself to visit you once he learns how to and jumps on the opportunity to go on leave.

Takes you anywhere and everywhere with his ring, even the moon for a picnic in a green bubble construct.

Has definitely siphoned his ring power over to you so you can try on the green suit and fly around.

If any villain or opposing Lantern comes after you, he will lose it. Probably has gotten into heat for use of unauthorized lethal force

You’ve become a host for the Star Sapphire at one point, forcing Caleb to try to detain you to pry the parasitic rock off of your skull, while trying to ignore the rising heat building in his body from the provocative words and outfit you’ve been put into.

If the emotional spectrum is established, your association with him probably leads to you becoming a Blue Lantern or proper, autonomous Star Sapphire, much to his pleasure. Literally just follows you around on your adventures, his mission and duties be damned.

Could definitely see Caleb in Orange or Violet, temporarily channeling enough avarice or love to become an Orange Lantern or Star Sapphire if willpower alone isn’t enough to keep you safe.

Jokes about him being the more ‘emotionally available’ or ‘committed’ Hal Jordan have been made multiple times.

Caleb definitely sees Kyle and John as a cautionary tale when it comes to his resolution to keeping you safe. The latter definitely hope he can do so, unlike them, they don’t think he’d be able to survive your death.

Lowkey, most of the Lanterns are jealous he’s able to maintain a healthy and devoted relationship with someone while balancing his work and Lantern duties.

They’ve definitely made constructs of you to tease him. Caleb doesn’t know how to feel about being the one on the receiving end of lighthearted jabs and ribbing for once. You find it hilarious.

His Green Lantern suit definitely consists of a mask and incorporates some kind of jacket. Known as the ‘buff’ Green Lantern or the one with a really nice back. Has been called ‘Slutty Waist Lantern’ on twitter, probably.

This is so niche lolol!

I got Xavier’s myth is like 50 pulls ahahaha

Seen a lot of talk about Caleb being Spider-man or Bucky coded, but Hal is right there…his powers would also make him a pretty good Radiant Black!

Masterlist

[purpleconch]

Ghost Girl

⋆˚࿔ word count: 1.5k

⋆˚࿔ author’s note: vampire raf brainrot brrrrrrrrr

warnings: mentions of blood, anthropophagy, & 18+ nsfw content

⋆˚࿔ credit: @.uzmacchiato for the pearl dividers

The thick fog spread throughout the dusk of night, the tall evergreens lost in dense air as you stood at the gate. Your eyes searched the myriad of broken graves, hoping to glimpse his body at least resting on a tree branch or sitting on the open benches. The abandoned graveyard hadn’t seen a new body since the invention of a moving picture, and it showed. The moss had latched itself to the eroded stones, carving an invisible pattern to the naked eye. Yet large tombs stood strong, receiving maintenance from local volunteers, aimed at preserving the town’s history.

However, the graveyard had found itself with recurring visitors, a pair. One chained to the curse of life, forever waiting for his eternal love, blessed with the cycle of life. When he had seen you walk through town for the first time 3 months ago, it was like seeing a ghost. A past lover came back to haunt him, or even his eyes playing tricks on him (the venison he had the day before didn’t quite settle on his stomach well). What was even more dreadful, when he approached you, you had walked past him. It was as if he had been wiped from your memory–you had blossomed into someone completely new.

Yet, Rafayel spent his immortal days slowly easing into your life, testing to see if you liked the same things, whether it was just the shell that looked the same. When he cooked her favorite dishes, your face lit up with glee, raving about it every time you saw him or sent him a text. He’d swear you were playing tricks on him with the way you carried on the same habits.

He swore that when you both spontaneously went to the beach one night, she had infested your body for the night. Taking your flashlight to scour the damp sand for seashells, holding up every single one for him to assess. When you brought him the seashell the next day on a silver chain, a memory hit him like a truck. Almost a hundred years ago, she gifted him a bracelet, decorated with pearls and a seashell that matched the hues of his eyes.

Rafayel knew you were someone else entirely, yet it felt as if the hermit that had left its shell had come back to reclaim it. Just like then, now you had only known half of him, the person he was when he was with her. Throughout the months of memories, he somehow forgot to mention the sharp fangs, the desperate need for blood, and the ability to lunge in the snap of a finger to wherever.

So when he got immersed in his double life for too long, Rafayel had forgotten to feed on anything for a few days. The various animals he had attempted to catch barely satiated his hunger; he needed something more, something human. His vision was blurry, filled with various scents of nearby animals. However, it wasn’t long until his nose began to cloud with a new scent, one he couldn’t resist. He was desperate to have his teeth sink into the frail vein of whatever it was. To feel the pulse pulsate on his tongue as he would ingest the pints of blood down his eager throat. Rafayel’s instincts had kicked in, and he maneuvered through the night, traveling at wind speed, before he was brought to the familiar spot where he would meet you. The aged graveyard kicked him out of his haze, yet his body uncontrollably moved towards you.

Rafayel’s ears were filled with badump badump, the blood being pumped through each ventricle in the chambers of your heart and into the various parts of your body. All he could think about was ripping the jacket off of you and tasting the sweet elixir wrapped in your body. To become one with you, to taste the one he devoted his heart to. The curse of immortality, the burden of forever, remedied by the sweet taste of you.

Reviewing the various statues of angels towering over the graves, your motion was immediately halted by the figure that stood in front of you. The brute force throws you off balance before falling into his arms.

“Rafayel,” you mutter, face flushed. His body was still, eyes not on yours but something lower. Nails digging deeper into you as the seconds continued, he wanted to consume you, devour you to become one. Yet, he lifted you and removed his hands from you, stepping back from you to preserve his dignity.

Finally, he spoke up, clearing his throat to interrupt the silence.

“I uh… wasn’t expecting you.” His eyes cast off into the distance.

“I baked earlier today and just wanted to drop off something sweet for you.” Moving closer to him, you reveal the container with cupcakes to him.

“I’m actually very, very sick, uhm… I can come to you tomorrow.” His mouth was basically a pool of spit, stimulated by your soft skin.

Out of concern, you raise your hand to his forehead; however, he catches your palm before it makes contact. It was his final straw before his knees buckled to the floor, his eyes looking up pleading. Panicked, you drop to the floor, cupping his face, his nose nuzzling into your wrists.

“Rafayel, what’s wrong?”

“So… hungry.” You attempted to reach for the delicacies you brought, but his grip on your arm barely allowed you to move. His nose moves from your forearm to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses. Your body began to light up like fireworks each time his lips made contact, the heat intensifying beneath the belt.

“Can I just have… one taste?” His small kisses progress into small licks like a cat to its water bowl. He was itching to dig in, feast on the untouched neck of yours, see how pretty you looked disheveled and weak in his arms.

“Try it.”

Rafayel swore he had heard you wrong, convinced he was hallucinating the entire idea of you giving your consent to his fantasies.

“What… ?”

“Bite me.” You tore off the jacket, exposing your neck to the cold air. Confusion was written on his face as his fangs revealed themselves.

“Rafa, please.”

Your soft words brought goose bumps to his skin–Rafayel sank his teeth, breaking your skin and pressing the fang into your vein. His tongue lapping on the surface, hungrily sucking on the liquid leaving your body. His body grinding into your thigh as he shifts his head further into your nape.

“You taste so good.” He whispered into you before pressing a small kiss into the wound. He pulled back from you, putting pressure on his bite mark to prevent the blood from seeping out.

“Does it hurt? Please tell me if I’m hurting you.”His thumb brushes your cheek softly.

“I’m fine, I swear, take as much as you need.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Can I kiss you?” Pleading eyes asking with a gentle voice. You nod your head indistinctly, his lips reaching to capture yours. He pushed into you more and more, hips brushing further into you. Rafayel’s fangs concealed themselves as his breath got heavier, small whines emitting from him. His hand sneaking its way to your heat, massaging your folds between the layers of cloth.

“I’ve missed you.” Sweet whispers from his lips pressed into yours, featuring a range of high appraisals. Sweet moans exiting your mouth, your head falling back in pleasure. Pressing his lips into your neck, kissing the bruised skin down to your collarbone.

“Come on,” you whine. A small smirk appeared on his face as he stopped moving his hand.

“Mmm… you can use your words.” Leaving small kisses on the bottom of your chin.

“Please…”

“Please, what?”

“Fuck me, please.”

His hands reach around you, lifting you from the gravel of the graveyard. In mere seconds, you were laid on your bed. The man stood in front of you, ripping his shirt off and throwing it across your room.

Reaching your hands over him and pulling him into a kiss. Rafayel reached his hands into your jeans, resuming his rhythm on your clit. Pleasure erupts through you from the hands-on contact. Heavy breaths exhaled through you as your high continued its incline.

“Rafayel… I’m gonna.” Your sentence comes out in pieces as his hand latches onto your nipple. Squeezing the sensitive bit to noticing the way you bucked your hips from his touch. He could feel your excitement begin to reach its end, your sweet whines stifling into the walls of your bedroom. Rafayel could feel his distressed jeans tighten in his groin with every moan exiting from you. He wanted you, desperate for a chance to rip the clothes off of you and thrust so deep in you. To see your mouth stuffed with his cock, hearing you gag on the length hidden beneath his jeans.

Yet he held restraint, taking a much slower route. He prioritized your pleasure–hearing your meek whimpers could make him cum alone.

One final twinge on your nipple sent you over the edge, your body rippling in delight. Your lips find his, hungrily capturing the bottom of his lip. Each time you separated to place another kiss, a smile spread on his face as if he had won millions.

“Such a good boy for me.” Your hand squishes his lips together.

“How about I treat this good boy? Does that sound good to you?”

[luvrsssara]

When Stars Collapse

Xavier x Reader (Love & Deep Space)

Genre: Angst • Sci-Fi Tragedy • Unspoken Love • Royal AU

A royal guard’s impossible vow, a queen’s fading light, and a love torn between two worlds. When duty fractures hearts and the stars collapse, can love survive the weight of sacrifice? 10K WORDS

Philos was dying.

Not with noise, or ash, or war. But with silence.

A stillness had settled over the once-mighty sky cities. The crystal rivers ran slower. The luminous blooms that sang at dawn had fallen quiet. The planet itself had begun to shiver, to fold inward, as though mourning something not yet gone — but soon to be.

You.

You were the heart of Philos. Its Queen-in-Waiting. The last of a line tied, not by politics, but by soul-bond — to the lifeforce of the world itself. A living tether. You breathed, and so did the cities. You dreamed, and the stars held their shape.

But now… your breath rattled in your lungs like hollow wind. Your dreams were fevered and filled with flame.

No cure could be found. The planet’s most brilliant healers had tried — pouring through every text, testing every light-seed and sacred herb. Nothing worked. They had not understood that this illness was not only physical — it was myth woven into flesh. Your heart, ancient and divine, was giving out.

Only one thing could save you: another heart.

One like yours.

But no such heart existed on Philos.

⸻

Your guard stood at your bedside — silent, loyal, and utterly still. His name was Xavier, and he had been at your side since you first wore the ceremonial blue of royal duty. He had white hair that always looked like it belonged to starlight, not a man. His eyes — piercing, luminous blue — rarely revealed his thoughts, but you had long since learned to read their silence.

And you trusted him. Perhaps too much. Perhaps more than you should have.

You turned your face toward him one night, your voice little more than breath. “There is another world.”

He said nothing, but you saw the shift in his gaze.

“Earth. In a parallel system. It is not a twin… but it reflects our energy. Our essence. There may be someone there — someone whose heart carries the same frequency as mine.”

“And you want me to find her,” Xavier said.

You nodded.

“I want you to bring her heart back.”

He was silent.

Then he bowed, fist over chest. “I will do whatever must be done.”

But you saw it — the flicker of something in his jaw. Pain. Hesitation. Guilt that hadn’t even begun to grow.

You closed your eyes.

“Xavier,” you whispered. “If I don’t make it… I need you to know… I trusted you. Always. Even when I didn’t say it.”

He stepped closer — closer than he ever allowed himself to stand. “And if I don’t make it in time…”

You smiled weakly. “Then I suppose Philos will crumble. And I will go with it.”

You reached for his hand. He took it — slowly. Carefully. As if afraid you’d shatter.

“You’ve always protected me,” you said. “But this time… I’m asking you to let me go.”

He didn’t reply.

But he didn’t let go either.

⸻

Philos’s great lab was hidden deep beneath the capital — a place where ancient magic met quantum mechanics. It was there Xavier stood before the portal: a mirror of shifting light and matter. Across it, a reading: Earth. Coordinates locked. Energetic match confirmed.

You stood, pale and wrapped in flowing silver, your body too fragile now for long speech.

“I’ve always believed in you,” you said.

Xavier didn’t answer at first. Then — so soft, so fractured — “You shouldn’t have.”

And then, in a moment of courage that felt like a lifetime too late, he leaned in. His lips met yours.

It wasn’t a lover’s kiss — not quite. It was the kind of kiss shared on battlefields, at the edge of death. Desperate. Sacred. Unfinished.

And when he pulled away, you were already crying.

He turned, stepped into the light—

—and was gone.

⸻

Earth.

The planet was simple. Strange. Bright in ways Philos had long forgotten. Grass underfoot. Wind that smelled like trees and asphalt. Buildings made of stone instead of sky-metal. He scanned the crowd, letting the tracker guide him.

And then — there.

You stood on the steps of a university dormitory. Laughing with a friend. Head tilted to the side. Your hair was different. Clothes unfamiliar. But the energy — your energy — was unmistakable.

He froze.

You looked up — eyes meeting his across the crowd.

And smiled.

He didn’t understand the way his chest cracked open.

⸻

He approached slowly over the next week. Coffee. Shared glances. A conversation under flickering campus lights.

You were kind. Curious. You asked him where he was from. He told you “far away.” You laughed and told him he sounded like a sci-fi novel.

He learned your voice. The sound of your laughter. The way your eyes searched his face when you thought he wasn’t looking.

And every day, the device in his pocket beeped softly: heart match confirmed.

He only had to take it.

One cut. One extraction. One sacrifice.

But instead… he lingered.

He found excuses to stay.

He bought you flowers. Listened to your favorite music. Watched you dance in your tiny dorm room, twirling in socked feet.

And one night, as you leaned your head on his shoulder, he closed his eyes and thought, I could live like this.

But he couldn’t.

⸻

The portal called him.

The queen was dying.

Philos trembled on the edge of ruin.

He had waited too long.

And now, when he looked at you, he saw two people.

His queen.

And you.

And he no longer knew who he was supposed to save.

⸻

That night, he returned to Philos.

Alone.

No heart in hand.

Only a breaking one in his chest.

Philos was not the same.

Not in the way storms differ from sunlight. Not in the way autumn follows bloom.

But in the way death follows life.

The second Xavier stepped through the portal, the atmosphere pressed against him like water — thick, heavy, grieving. The colors were dimmer. The silence louder. No longer a majestic capital suspended among stars and soundless wind, the city now stood crooked in its own shadow.

The planet was dying. And so were you.

He stepped onto the obsidian corridor of the royal palace. Lights flickered like dying embers. The silver columns that once shone with crystal light had dimmed, their veins pulsing slower — like your heart.

He did not go to the lab.

He did not go to the healers.

He went to your chambers.

He went to you.

⸻

You lay still on the canopy bed, dressed in the ceremonial white of the Queen’s Line. Your skin was pale, like marble smoothed by rain. Your breath came in shivers. It took everything in you to open your eyes — just enough to see his shape in the doorframe.

You smiled.

“Xavier,” you breathed. “You came back…”

He stepped forward. His boots didn’t make a sound.

You didn’t ask him for a heart.

You only said, “Did you find her?”

He paused.

“Yes,” he whispered.

Silence grew between you — long and ancient.

“And did you take it?”

He closed his eyes.

“No.”

Something in your chest, already cracked, finally broke.

You turned your face to the wall. “Then it’s done.”

Xavier walked to you, knelt by your bedside. His hands — hands that had slain monsters, lifted stars, held galaxies — trembled.

“She was you,” he said. “She was you, in a world that never crowned you. She laughed. She danced. She smiled at me like I wasn’t just your guard.”

You turned back to him — barely, weakly.

And for the first time, you saw it.

Regret.

And love.

“Did you love her?” you asked.

He hesitated.

And that hesitation was enough.

⸻

He stood.

The silence was deafening.

“I was supposed to save you,” he said, looking at the wall. “I told myself I would bring her heart back, no matter what. That I would choose you. That I would not falter.”

“And you failed,” you said, voice trembling.

He nodded.

“I failed you. I failed this planet. I failed myself. Because I—” His voice cracked. “I loved the wrong you.”

⸻

Your eyes stung.

All this time, you had loved him. Quietly. Secretly. As he stood beside you in war councils and sat beside you during stargazing rituals. You had loved him in the way the moon loves the tide — in silence, from a distance, and with aching consistency.

But you’d never said it.

You were a queen.

He was a sword.

You were never allowed to say it.

And now… you’d never have the chance again.

⸻

He turned to leave — the shame in his posture like chains.

You reached for him. Your fingers barely grazed his sleeve.

And softly — so softly — you whispered, “I’ve always loved you, my star.”

Xavier froze in place.

And then, you let go.

The last thing you saw was the way his shoulders shook.

And then the world dimmed.

⸻

He left.

He didn’t run.

He walked.

Like a man walking toward his sentence.

The palace behind him groaned. The world itself began to split. Earthquakes shattered the underlands. The sky cracked open — the stars dimming like grief.

He had not saved you.

He had not fulfilled his vow.

He had let love cloud duty.

And now, your planet was dying. And so was he.

He looked to the sky.

And for the first time in his life… he wept.

⸻

He returned to Earth.

Not as a hero.

Not as a savior.

But as a ghost.

⸻

On Earth, the other you — the one he had fallen for — met him at the threshold of the garden where you once danced in sunlight. You smiled at him, confused by the hollow look in his eyes. You asked him where he’d gone. He didn’t answer.

He only looked at you like you were made of ash.

Because you were alive.

And the real you was dead.

Because of him.

Earth was too bright.

The skies too wide, the stars too silent.

Xavier stood at the edge of the city park where you — the other you — had always loved to go. You said the wind here felt like laughter. That the petals falling from the trees in spring looked like soft snowfall. He used to agree.

Now the petals looked like ash.

You ran to him when you saw him.

Smiling.

Alive.

You didn’t know what your death had cost.

He couldn’t speak when you reached him. Couldn’t even look you in the eyes.

“Xavier?” you asked, breathless. “Are you okay? You were gone for days. You didn’t answer any of my messages.”

He finally met your gaze.

And in it, you saw something terrifying.

Not fear. Not sadness.

Guilt.

Deep. Unforgiving. Unrelenting.

“I need to tell you something,” he said.

And the world stopped.

⸻

He told you everything.

From the beginning.

From the royal halls of Philos to the trembling of a dying world. From the disease that stole your other self’s heart to the desperate search across galaxies. He told you about the portal. The mission. The kiss he left on her dying lips.

And he told you — softly, like the edge of a knife — that you were supposed to die.

That you were the cure.

That your heart was meant to save her.

And that he had chosen you.

That he had fallen in love with this version of you.

And let the other one — the queen, the tether, the heart of a planet — die.

⸻

You didn’t move.

You didn’t cry.

You simply stared.

And whispered, “So she died… because of me.”

“No,” he said, voice cracking. “Because of me.”

He dropped to his knees in front of you. The grass around him bent like mourning. The breeze no longer felt warm.

“I failed her,” he said, hands shaking. “She trusted me. She sent me to save her life. And I— I let her die. I left her with nothing. I abandoned her at the edge of her last breath, and all I could do was come back to you.”

He looked up at you. “And I don’t know which part of me is more broken. The part that loves you. Or the part that knows I killed her for it.”

⸻

You wanted to run.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to hate him.

But instead, you knelt beside him.

Because somewhere inside you, you knew.

You had felt it.

The tug.

The ache in your chest every time he looked at you like a ghost.

The way he never said “I love you,” even when it hovered just behind his teeth.

Because he had already said it.

To you.

Just… not this version.

⸻

You cupped his face gently, your hand trembling.

“What did she say to you?” you asked.

His eyes filled. “She said… ‘I’ve always loved you, my star.’”

Your breath hitched.

Because in your dreams, you used to say the same thing.

You’d whisper it to the stars at night, hoping he would hear it. You never knew where it came from.

Now you did.

Because in some universe… you had already said it.

And died with it on your lips.

⸻

You pulled away, voice hollow. “So what now?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Philos is gone. She’s gone. I don’t know who I am without her.”

You stared at him.

Then whispered, “And what am I supposed to do… knowing I was the one chosen to live?”

⸻

He didn’t have an answer.

He never would.

⸻

The days that followed were quiet.

Too quiet.

Xavier stayed in your world. Watched the skies like a man waiting to be judged. He ate little. Slept less. Some nights, you heard him whisper names in his sleep — names of cities that no longer existed, stars that had gone cold.

You tried to bring back the man you had fallen for.

But he wasn’t coming back.

Because he had buried the best part of himself with you — the other you — on Philos.

⸻

You found his ring — the one that bore the royal sigil of your house — lying on your windowsill.

Wrapped in it, a note. Written in a hand you recognized too well.

>I was supposed to protect you. Both of you. But I failed the moment I made you choose between life and guilt.

I am not a man built for peace. Or joy.

I am a sword. A blade meant for dying stars.

And my Queen is gone.

But if there’s another life… another star… another chance…

Let it find you.

Let it choose you.

I loved you both. I love you still.

— X

You never saw him again.

Some say he returned to the remains of Philos — to bury its memory in the ash.

Some say he let the stars take him.

But you believed differently.

You believed that somewhere, in some quiet corner of the universe, Xavier still walks beneath alien skies — guarding a memory, carrying a guilt that will never fade.

You still dream of him.

Sometimes, you see two versions of yourself reaching for him across stars.

But he never takes either hand.

Because he’s still at war.

With himself.

(Did not just bawl my eyes out while making this)

[evreluns]

So i just randomly draw this yesterday at 1 AM (?). Anyway, i think this is fit for the face claim reader at SALADSAU. I dont know, if you guys have your own face claim, its okay! This is what i imagine the reader in SALADSAU. Have a good day y'all

[drdawnbreaker]

For my Alien au fic 'What The Doctor Needs' I wanna make a part two of sorts. So out of all the Lads men, who do you want to see as a pair, for a smutty little mission to MC's home planet where things get heated involving a hormonal flower? (Aka sex pollen au)

[tumbling-through-deepspace]

Boss Bird Mephisto

Breaking the fourth wall series. Previous >>> next

Bree felt a presence over her as she lay curled in a ball on her loveseat. Her uterus was behaving like a bitch because she refused to be pregnant.

Why would she go and do something like that... again? Her bon-bon was only a year old, so the thought of popping out another baby so soon made her scrunch up her face, as if she just ate a lemon.

Back to the presence over her. Opening an eye, Bree looked at her boss. She called him her boss because he thought himself the man of the house.

"Hello, Mephisto."

The crow gave a low caw before nuzzling his beak at the side of her face.

"I'll be fine, three more days of pain, and I'll be right as rain. Did he send you to check on me?"

The look he gave made Bree giggle "Sorry but I can't help it. You and I both know he's a worry wart even though he pretends otherwise."

With a flash of red and black, a small package landed on her hip. It had a snowman and crow sticker on it. Bree groaned.

"Told those two not to send me anything. I've been dealing with this since I was ten. All I need is solitude and sleep."

Mephisto cawed as if in agreement before hopping closer until he was sitting by her abdomen.

She smiled. Who knew the crow could offer cuddles.

"Thanks for checking up on me, Boss."

The two spend the rest of the day sleeping.

[odoraful]

the dr zayne mr darcy parrallel had me on the FLOOR !! hard faced soft hearted men are my favourite ~ thank you for the sweet sweet content (⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠)⁠♥

i'm so happy you enjoyed reading my zayne fic TT a little aloof on the outside but super sweet on the inside will never do me wrong hehe. the mr darcy hand flex scene truly made a pivotal impact on my life, fellow austen enjoyers WE RISE!!

[drdawnbreaker]

This has still 13 hours left on the clock. I'm curious who y'all will pick but I have a funny feeling I could guess ahha

For my Alien au fic 'What The Doctor Needs' I wanna make a part two of sorts. So out of all the Lads men, who do you want to see as a pair, for a smutty little mission to MC's home planet where things get heated involving a hormonal flower? (Aka sex pollen au)