sweetstrawberrysky

[sweetstrawberrysky]

lads on twitter: part 3 (1,2)

[sweetstrawberrysky]

[sweetstrawberrysky]

Summer vacation with Zayne and his family

I was in the middle of work, then the summer banner dropped and arghhhh I couldn’t resisttt. so I ended up making a quick artwork hehe. The MC's outfit is just too cute, I love it so much!

Oh, and congrats! Zayne’s daughter’s name has been chosenit's Jasmine! Thank you so much for all the amazing name suggestions, you’re all awesome!

[sweetstrawberrysky]

When mc embraced him tight and his gaze softened

[sweetstrawberrysky]

closer

synopsis: Zayne shows just how much he's been missing you warnings: sexual content, overstimulation, oral sex (fem!receiving), light restraint, some tears pairing: Zayne x fem!reader wc: 1.6k an: this has basically no plot lmao i just love to see him eat

The second your back hits the mattress, you know you’re done for.

Zayne had been running on empty lately. An increase in cardiac cases kept him at Akso for hours beyond his shift, and though he never complained, you saw the toll it took. The dark circles, tension in his jaw, that restless energy clinging to him. Paired with your own long days, the two of you had been ships brushing past each other, all need and no release.

Until tonight.

His mouth is hot and demanding against yours, as though the act of kissing is the only thing keeping him upright. His cool hands slip beneath your shirt, spanning your ribcage like he’s memorizing you all over again. He doesn’t pause, doesn’t breathe, just consumes you, pulling you deeper into him with every press of his lips. The fabric of your shirt is tugged up and over your head before you’ve even had the chance to gasp in more than a mouthful of air.

“What has-has gotten into you?” you manage between kisses, eyelids heavy, your body already sparking under his touch.

“I’ve missed you.” The words are tight, almost rough. That’s all the explanation you get before the clasp of your bra clicks open with his characteristic precision. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t give you time to react before his mouth latches onto you, teeth scraping, tongue coaxing, drawing sounds out of you that make your back arch helplessly.

His hands are everywhere, restless and grounding all at once. Sliding down your sides, holding your hips steady, then coming back up to cage your ribs. It’s as though he can’t decide where he needs you most, only that he needs all of you right now.

Then his mouth leaves your chest, trailing a line of open-mouthed kisses down your torso, each one wetter, hungrier than the last. He works his way lower, dragging his lips over your stomach, pausing at your navel just long enough to make your breath catch. His eyes flick up, meeting yours for a fraction of a second. The look in them is molten, a check in and a warning in one, before he continues downward.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your breathing, already ragged. You reach for him, fingers threading through his hair, but he catches your wrist and pins it gently against the mattress. His other hand anchors on your thigh as he tugs at the waistband of your shorts, pulling them off in one decisive motion.

The first press of his mouth nearly breaks you. It’s sudden, consuming, and impossibly intense, stealing the air from your lungs. You jolt, your body’s instinctive attempt to escape the overload, but his grip only tightens, keeping you pinned exactly where he wants you. His tongue moves with a relentless rhythm, precise yet merciless, each movement building on the last until your entire body feels like it’s on fire.

You gasp his name, a strangled sound, half-plea and half-warning. He doesn’t relent. If anything, the sound of your unraveling drives him further, his pace quickening, the pressure unyielding. He’s determined to burn every thought from your mind until there’s nothing left but the edge he keeps pushing you toward.

His tongue circles your clit, teasing and tantalizing, drawing out waves of pleasure that make your hips buck helplessly. He slides two fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit that spot that makes your vision blur. The combination of his mouth and his fingers is overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You try to twist, to close your thighs, but his grip is iron. His arms pin you wide open, anchoring you to the bed as he continues. He slows down, his tongue tracing lazy patterns, drawing out the torture. You whimper, your body trembling with need, begging for release.

When the first wave finally crashes over you, it’s blinding. You convulse under him, thighs trembling, chest heaving, fingers clawing at the sheets. For a second you think he’ll stop, give you room to breathe, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even slow. His mouth is still on you, insistent, pulling more from you even as you writhe in oversensitivity.

You’re still quaking, breath torn ragged from your chest, when he presses deeper into you, refusing to release his hold. The world feels white-hot and unbearable, every nerve sparking like a live wire. Your attempts to get away are futile. He pulls his fingers out, using both hands to keep your thighs pinned to the bed.

“Zayne-” His name breaks on your tongue, strangled, pleading. You can’t tell if you’re begging him to slow down or begging him to keep going.

He hums low in response, a dangerous sound that thrums through your bones. The vibration alone makes your hips buck helplessly. His movements slow just a fraction,not easing the pressure, but stretching it out, keeping you on the knife’s edge. It’s unbearable in its own right, a teasing cruelty that keeps your body trembling, desperate for release that he won’t let you have.

You writhe, clawing at the sheets, dragging your heels against the mattress, but he doesn’t yield. He draws lazy patterns against your thighs with his thumbs, a mocking kind of gentleness that contrasts the feral insistence of his mouth. You’re caught between fire and ice, between the relief you just found and the torturous climb he’s forcing you back into.

The second wave hits before you’re ready. Your chest arches up, a strangled cry ripping from your throat. You feel like you’re breaking apart, nerves fraying, your whole body wracked with shivers. It’s rawer than the first, harsher, leaving your vision blurred with spots of white. Tears sting at the corners of your eyes.

But he still doesn’t stop.

Instead, he slows down again, dragging you down from the peak just enough to make you think he’s finished. Your muscles start to slacken, lungs gulping air, relief just within reach. Then, he surges forward, merciless, pulling you right back into the storm.

It’s cruel. It’s bliss. It’s everything you can’t handle and everything you need at once.

You sob his name again, the sound strangled, almost a prayer. His hold tightens, as though he’s daring you to try and resist him. His mouth works you with meticulous, hungry precision, each motion calculated to drag another cry, another quake, another collapse from you.

By the third climax, your whole body feels foreign. Your thighs shake uncontrollably against his shoulders, your voice a wrecked mess of pleas and broken gasps. Your chest heaves, sweat slicking your skin, and you’re certain you’ve reached your limit. Every nerve is screaming, and still he keeps you pinned, teasing, pulling you apart like it’s the only way he knows how to breathe.

The teasing grows crueler now. He slows down again, tongue tracing slow, deliberate movements that make you whimper in frustration. You think maybe this time he’ll let you rest, but just as the tension starts to ebb, he dives back in with a sharpness that makes your whole body jolt. The sound that escapes you is raw, high-pitched, the kind that echoes in the walls and makes your own ears burn.

You’ve lost count of how many times he’s broken you. Every peak blurs into the next, every descent cut short by his relentless hunger. You’re drowning in it, in him, in the merciless rhythm of his devotion. The overstimulation burns, painful and exquisite, and yet you can’t stop clinging to it, can’t stop falling apart under him.

Your body goes slack at last, trembling, muscles too spent to resist. Your fingers fall from their grip on his hair to the sheets, a silent surrender. You don’t fight him anymore. You let him keep going, keep teasing, keep wringing every last drop of tension from you until you’re boneless and half-conscious beneath him.

When he finally pulls back, his lips are wet, his chest rising and falling as if he’s been running. He looks up at you, face flushed, eyes dark and wild, and the sight alone nearly undoes you again.

You’re a wreck; tear-streaked, trembling, your voice long since stolen, but the look in his eyes tells you he wouldn’t have stopped until you were this undone. His hunger has been sated, at least for now, but you know this wasn’t about relief. It was about need. About claiming back the time and closeness that work and stress had stolen from you both.

He crawls back up over you, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath ragged against your lips. “I missed you,” he murmurs again, the words a broken rasp, like he’s confessing something deeper than desire.

And even though your body is wrecked, overstimulated to the point of collapse, your hands still find him, pulling him close. You kiss him weakly, tasting yourself on his lips, and whisper back.

“I missed you too.”

[sweetstrawberrysky]

SURE, WHATEVER YOU SAY, HANDSOME !

✩ synopsis: lads men reacting to you complimenting him in the middle of an argument to get out of trouble ✩ pairing: all lis x reader ✩ a/n: inspired by this one screenshot of a tweet from pinterest based off nanami kento teehee

xavier.

"why did you follow me to the no-hunt zone?"

you shrug him off, removing the buckles of your uniform and tossing it to the empty table beside you.

"i told you to not follow me, something could've happened to you."

"something could've happened to you, xavier!" you argue, turning on your heel to face him, "i followed you because you were so adamant in going there alone without any help from anyone," you continued, eyes scanning up and down his features. xavier is adorned in his usual white combat uniform, grime and oil smeared on his pants and arms, his usual stoic expression is plastered across his face.

however, you see the glint behind his eyes that show guilt and slight anger. angry from what—you don't know. huffing, you pivot away from him, continuing to remove your gear from your body.

"i didn't tell you i needed the help because i don't think it was necessary. it wasn't something i can't handle," xavier says, peeling off his gloves. you ignore his words and proceed to the other side of the room, plopping yourself down on the chair, focusing on the laces of your shoes.

"and you not telling me that you were joining me is just the same with me not telling you too," he retorts, as if what he says makes it even better.

you roll your eyes, grumbling under your breath, "i am not going to apologize to that."

he frowns, "why don't you talk to me properly?" he asks, almost pleadingly, taking slow and steady strides towards you.

you scoff disbelievingly, shaking your head, "whatever," you mumble. before you can even kick off the shoes from your feet, xavier kneels across you and gently takes off the boots wordlessly. his calm demeanor render you speechless, his fingertips softly massaging your sore soles.

then, he looks up at you, "what was that? i didn't catch that," he asks.

"i-i said, 'whatever!'" you exclaim with a roll of your eyes, looking away.

xavier merely raises a brow at your behavior, mouth slightly agape, "wha—"

"i am not arguing with a calm, soft-hearted, loving man!" you huff, "whatever you say, handsome!"

his jaw grows slack at your words, taken aback by the 180 of the situation. xavier props one knee up, leaning close to your space, "i thought you were angry?" he asks.

"i thought you were angry," you bite back, refusing to meet his gaze.

he shakes his head, "just upset. but never angry at you. especially with what you said earlier. what was that again?"

blush creeps to your cheeks, turning away from him, "i'm not repeating that!"

you miss the way his lips curl into a smile and his fingers trailing the exposed skin of your legs comfortingly. you don't know it yet, but he already plans something intimate in his head after your words tumble out of your mouth. but for now, he grins up at you lovingly, heart swelling at your random compliment and mind completely forgetting why he was upset in the first place.

rafayel.

he won't budge.

no matter how many times you call his name, ask him about his art he was working on, or even bribe him with dinner, rafayel would not give you the time of the day. and so, you thought of the best way to deal with the situation—give him space.

but the minute he finds you alone in bed, scrolling through your phone, he frowns.

"oh so what happened to accompanying me the whole day? going back to your word again?" he begins, arms crossed across his chest with an evident pout on his face.

you sigh, "rafayel, i've been calling you for hours and you wouldn't spare me a glance!"

he rolls his eyes animatedly, "maybe it's because you promised you would accompany me throughout the exhibit only for you to arrive by the time the show's about to end?"

"i told you, there was an emergency—"

"since when was 'tara needing to run to the vet clinic to pick up medicine for her sickly cat' an emergency?" he retorts.

"uhh since she called?" you reply, plopping your phone down to your chest. rafayel huffs in response, tempted to turn his back to you, and sulk again in his studio. but when he sees the lack of remorse on your features, he feels like his feet were glued to the floor.

it's not like you didn't feel bad for leaving rafayel out to dry during one of his most important events, it's that you found his pouting amusing.

you've been wanting to apologize properly to him for the past two hours but when he refuses to drop the paintbrush for you, you got the signal.

"i only ask you once to join me in my exhibit and you... my beloved bodyguard…. betrays me for a cat?" he says, voice almost raising and in a disbelieving tone.

you blankly stare at him, face pulled tightly as he places his hands on his hips. “and now what? you’re giving me the silent treatment?”

you examine his eyes under the faint glow of the fluorescent light, his irises gleaming with what seems like grumpiness and hurt. you hate to admit it especially when your boyfriend seemed devastated with your actions earlier, but the way he stands from across the room idly makes your heart skip a beat.

ignoring the butterflies in your stomach, you pick up your phone with a roll of your eyes, “ugh, whatever,” you reply.

rafayel couldn’t believe the words that tumble out of your tongue, his mouth slightly ajar, “wh-what?” he asks, brows raised.

“i said, whatever!” you repeat, voice slightly raising, “i’m not arguing with a tall, handsome, kind-hearted man!”

rafayel blinks once.

twice.

then his hands slowly fall to his sides, “what did you just say?”

heat rises to your cheeks as you ignore his question, scrolling through hundreds of posts in your moments account with a shrug.

you hear his light footsteps padding through the expanse, then as soon as he reaches your side, he snatches your phone away.

“hey!”

“i’ll give it back to you once you repeat what you just said, cutie,” rafayel replies with a teasing lilt.

“you already heard me!” you exclaim, kneeling on the cushion of the bed to reach his height but he pulls away further, a hand pressed on your décolletage.

“nope,” he said popping the ‘p’, “say it again!”

your eyes flit to the ceiling in feign annoyance, “ugh. i said, ‘i am not arguing with a tall, handsome, kind-hearted man!’ now will you give it back?”

rafayel’s lips tug into a smile, flipping your phone in his hand before shoving it to his back pocket, “no.”

“wha—“

“cutie thinks she can get away with trouble just because she complimented, huh?” he says, leaning into your space.

you fight back the smile wriggling in your face, “hmm, why not?”

he inches closer to you until his breath fan across your cheeks, “silly girl. i think you can get away with it if you do something for me," rafayel whispers, eyes glancing down from your lips to your eyes.

hesitantly, you ask, "what is it...?"

he hums, "don't babysit that cat ever again."

"no."

zayne.

"how many times have i told you already to stay out of trouble?"

"it's my job, zayne. being a hunter means being in trouble all the time," you reply, holding back from rolling your eyes. you understand where your lover is coming from, especially when you could only imagine the panic settling in his chest when he sees you rush in the emergency room for the third time this month.

but at the same time, it's the third time this month he has given you an earful of being too reckless and going out of your way to face danger itself.

zayne shuts the curtains from your space, blocking you from every other patient's view, "i am aware of what your job entails, but it seems you're so hard-headed that you never listen to a word i say," he retorts, removing the medicated cotton ball from your arm and instead starts pulling out a lengthy gauze, "is there something wrong with being careful or do you just prefer to risk your life every time you're out there?" he continues, snipping the cotton in its desirable length. he refuses to make eye contact with you, his brows furrowed and a permanent scowl on his lips from the minute you step foot in the hospital.

you just managed to catch him merely passing by the ER when tara rushed beside you for help.

"because i prefer to not seeing you in this ward again covered in blood and yet it seems you find it amusing with your sheepish smile when i tend you," zayne comments as he wraps your wounded skin with the bandage, "your stubbornness never ceases to amaze me."

he then turns to his side, tossing out the bloodied pads to the bin with a harshness that you never saw from him before.

you scoff and zayne's glare hardens, his hands growing heavier and the clanking of metal together echoing loudly across the ward, "i'm not arguing with a tall, soft spoken, kindhearted man," you say with a roll of your eyes, "whatever you say, handsome."

zayne pauses from his actions, slowly turning to you questioningly, "what did you just say?"

you ignore the cold shivers running down your spine and shrug, "you heard me."

he takes a step towards you, and another, then another, before successfully removing any space between you two, "you think flattering me will get you out of trouble?" he says, raising a brow at you.

you purse your lips, "why not?" you reply as nonchalantly as you can despite the wild hammering of your heart against your chest.

you didn't miss the tug from the corner of zayne's lips, "that is very unprofessional, miss hunter. i'd like to keep our relationship strictly doctor-patient."

"it was unprofessional the moment you shut the curtains, dr. zayne," you say with a teasing lilt.

"is that so?" zayne replies, tilting his head in curiosity, "well then," he says, fist curled to the fabric of the curtains, "please go home and get plenty of rest before you give me any other bad ideas and have me refrain from scolding you any further."

you pout, "you won't drive me home?"

"aren't you a spoiled little thing? you try to escape from my reprimands and you want a ride home?" he says, dropping his hands to his sides.

you merely nod, looking up at him with the biggest doe eyes you can muster. zayne ends up sighing, fingers massaging the bridge of his nose.

"you are one very clever girl," he murmurs, turning back to you, "but i will say this one last time, i do not want you to come here bloody again, got it, my love?" he says in a low tone with his hazel-green eyes piercing yours, "i just don't want to get used to seeing the girl i love get hurt."

you smile at him, wrapping your bandaged arms around his shoulders, "i got that dr. zayne, i'm sorry."

zayne replies with a peck to your forehead, fingers threading to your hair, "okay, let's get a certain hasty hunter home."

caleb.

"haven't we discussed already that you will just stay at home today?"

"caleb, i'm a grown woman. i can take care of myself with simple errands outside the house."

"that's not the point and you know that," caleb retorts, his arms folded across his chest as he stares at you from across the room with disappointment written across his features. "you made a promise to me and you deliberately broke it. you didn't think i would catch you, huh?" he continues, his back leaning against the column of your shared house.

you bite back your tongue from talking back to him, knowing it would escalate into something uglier. arguing with caleb has always turned into a fight on who can resist the other one better and it never turns out well.

"it's not that i want to keep you in this house for myself, i'm just upset that you specifically told me that you will be at home the whole day. what happened to keepin' our word?" caleb says, "and what if somethin' happened to you while you were out and i didn't know where you were?"

"you always know where i am," you argue.

"regardless. what if i didn't had my phone on me and you were in danger?"

"are we forgetting that i'm a hunter and i can take care of myself?"

caleb clicks his tongue in annoyance, "not the point. i'm just sayin' that it would be best if you would be honest to me so that i know where you are goin' and what to watch out from."

you heave a sigh, darting your gaze elsewhere.

"do you understand me, babe?" he says, a little gentler than before. but you refused to reply, only resting your elbow on your knee and plopping your chin to the palm of your hand.

"you're not listenin'," he says in a low tone, gaze darkening.

"whatever," you scoff.

"what was that?"

"i said, whatever!" you exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air, "i'm not arguing with a tall, caring, and hot man. whatever you say, handsome."

caleb's brain feels like it short-circuited. he couldn't produce a single, coherent thought.

blinking rapidly at you, he takes long strides to the couch, "repeat that for me again, babe."

"no," you affirm, refusing to look at him. the next second, you find him kneeling across you and his hands wrapped around yours, a bright smile across his features, "c'monnnn," he drawls, "say it again!"

you couldn't fight back the smile stretching across your lips as you turn to him, and you swear you could see the halo around his head and a tail wagging on his back.

"i'm not saying that again!" you giggle and caleb leans closer to you, hands gripping firmly over yours, "you think you can just say those words to get away from trouble, huh?"

you feign innocence, looking up at the ceiling, "what? i don't know what you mean!"

caleb smirks up at you, head tilting to the side, "you're a sly woman, aren'tcha?"

"i learned from the best," you shrug.

then, his eyes look up at you longingly, "you know i can never stay mad at you," he mumbles, "but i'm serious, you should always tell me where you're goin'."

"sure, whatever you say, handsome."

"hey."

sylus.

"what happened to going to the n109 zone this weekend? it seems you want to do whatever you want, sweetie."

"something came up at the hunter's association that i had to take care of," you grumble under your breath, kicking off your shoes at your doorway, unsurprised at the intruder in your home that you call your lover.

"oh?" sylus replies indifferently, one brow raised at your passiveness at the situation. "are we going to act like you didn't read my last five messages and purposely left it like that?" he continues, arms folded across his chest as he leans back at your couch.

"yes," you hiss, storming off to your room in annoyance. you didn't mean to give him the sourest attitude you can muster tonight but with the frustration from the earlier missions still lingering in your chest—you just can't help it.

and you just know sylus is not happy either with the way you are acting around him, especially with his numerous unanswered messages to you.

"someone's being a feisty kitten tonight," he calls, trailing behind you with larger strides. without hesitation, sylus gently snatches your wrist and turns you to him, his eyes boring into yours. you could see the exasperation behind his irises, but you ignore it with the way his other hand creeps up on your back. then, he tugs you closer to his space until your hip rests against his and his breath fans across your cheeks, "now tell me what happened," he demands, his voice an octave lower.

you couldn't even process a thought in your head with the way he is cradling you right now, let alone answer him.

he tilts his head at you expectantly, lips inches away from yours. you could feel the heat rising to your neck with the way his fingers mindlessly trace along your back. swallowing thickly, you gather all the strength in your hands and shove him away, "no," you assert, turning your back to him so he wouldn't find your crazy blush.

you miss the way sylus frowns and mouth agape in shock with the way you act like a brat.

"sweetie," he only says with a stern voice. but before he can continue, you cut him off, "no!"

you shake your head, "i am not arguing with a tall, gentle, and understanding man! whatever you say, handsome!"

you don't even know where you plucked the courage to say those words out loud.

but with the way he pauses and then suddenly laughs have the words finally sunk in your system. you whip your head back to his direction, finding his sly smile and one hand resting on his hip, "is that so?" he says.

"wh-what?" you stammer.

"is that why you are so feisty tonight, hm?" he says, brow raised at you and his weight shifted to one of his foot. before you can even answer him and deny of his accusations, he takes a full step towards you. sylus grabs your waist in one swift movement and pulls you taut to his chest, "i'll forget that you were being naughty earlier, sweetie," he murmurs under his breath.

"just give me one thing," he continued.

"...what is it?" you mumble, ignoring the close proximity between his lips to yours.

"i think you already know, kitten."

"i'll just go back to ignoring you now, thanks."

"sweetie."

cosmoszyn's masterlist.

[sweetstrawberrysky]

More Emotionally Reserved!Reader x Sylus <3

- The first time you actually approach him with a problem, ANY problem of yours, he’s already jittery and so adorably excited because YOUU CAME TO HIM WITH A PROBLEM!! that obviously implies that he’s gained at least a fragment of your trust that you rarely give people and he feels like a child eating candy for the first time.

- you could simply start complaining about your day, and he’d just sit there with his chin in his palms just staring at you, watching you go on this tangent and trying his best not to interrupt in case you ever stops. he hopes you never do.

- the second you even initiate physical contact of ANY kind, he’s a goner. he’ll absolutely hold onto for the next month or so and Luke and Kieran have to bear witness to the big bad boss of onychinus being all giggly and smitten about it. they will NEVER hear the end of it.

- he’s so hopelessly down bad for you, he’d do absolutely anything to touch you, to simply hold onto your hand, cup your face, run his fingers through your hair, but he wouldn’t dare try to push you. he’s waiting forever for this and if it means you’ll come to him yourself, he’d gladly wait another eternity to hold onto your hand forever.

- When you slide your hand into his while talking about your day, he just freezes and slowly melts into the touch. he’s not used to it. you always shy away from interaction unless it’s with people you hold near and dear to you and oh— it finally strikes him that he’s one of those people. that he’s dear enough for you to hold your heart out on your sleeve for him, that he’s cherished and adored by you after pining for so long.

- and gosh if you ever hug him or tell him you need a hug, he’s treating you like porcelain, pulling you into the most gentle embrace he possibly can, slowly wrapping his arms around you and just shielding you away.

- every time you talk to him it’s music to his ears. and when you curl up next to him when you’re asleep together, he’s tucking you in oh-so gently, draping a blanket over you and hugging from the back slowly so he doesn’t scare you away.

i got,,,,lazy <3 this is super self indulgent again!!

[sweetstrawberrysky]

Sylus x reader s3x pollen fic coming soon >:3

[sweetstrawberrysky]

Mc you one lucky girl....😞🙏🏻

[sweetstrawberrysky]

Why are they like this? 🤣

[sweetstrawberrysky]

I have my own priorities

[sweetstrawberrysky]

ohhh Sylus is such a family man, this man has never been this giggly until the whole family dynamic being put on full display with the bird him and mc are taking care of. I just know he’s so fond of it all; big brother Mephie being jealous but warming up to the birdie, the little birdie causing mischief, mc babying the birdie…. HELLO?!!? he’s always chuckling and giggling!!

[sweetstrawberrysky]

You always go to bed holding Caleb's left hand.

It's not because you dislike his bionic arm. In the daytime, you like to hold him there and press kisses all over the skin that can't feel—just to show him that he hasn't changed in your eyes. But at night, you make sure to sleep on his left side.

Caleb is usually loud, always talking and laughing when he's in your presence. When he falls asleep, your skin prickles with unease.

You like to see him relaxed and at peace, but sometimes you swear he looks a little bit too peaceful. Like all he's missing is a tux and bouquet to complete the unsettling image of a too-silent Caleb you never got to bury a year ago.

Though you're no stranger to silence—especially the kind that followed like a heavy fog no matter how you tried to distract yourself from it—you can't handle it now. Not after he came back from the dead.

Perhaps it's silly, but paranoia eats at you when his breathing evens out to a point you can only strain to hear. You need a sign that he's still alive when he goes quiet and drifts off.

So you stay on his left, curling your fingers around his inner wrist and brushing absentminded circles over the prominent vein there.

Tonight, you get lost in the feeling of him, your other hand landing on his cheek in a soft caress. His skin is warm, and for some reason you weren't expecting the heat.

His pulse kicks faster under your fingertips along his wrist. The spike makes something in your chest loosen. It's okay. He's still here.

You pull his hand off the bed and press your lips to his pulse point—just a whisper of a kiss—soft enough that you think it won’t wake him.

A quiet gasp interrupts the stillness. Moonlight catches on the flutter of his dark lashes before he meets your somber gaze.

“Sorry. Thought you were asleep,” you murmur. A smile tugs at your lips now that you've been pulled from that weird residual grief you're still learning how to get over.

“I was trying,” he teases. He's still playful, even when you're sure he can see something is bothering you. “But it’s hard when you’re…”

He doesn’t finish that thought. He changes the subject too fast, like he always does, putting the spotlight back on you.

“Pips," he whispers, "what was that kiss for?"

Your stomach flutters at how breathless he sounds. Did your touch really affect him that easily?

For a second, you wonder just how much you should reveal. With a hum, you softly reply, "It was a 'thank you.'"

He frowns, like he’s about to ask what for. You decide to save him the trouble.

“For coming back to me.”

That's all you need to say.

His fingers intertwine with yours, forcing you to move on from his fluttering heartbeat and allow him to squeeze your hand reassuringly instead. His lips meet your knuckles, mirroring the same softness of your earlier kiss to his wrist. All the while, his careful gaze never leaves your face.

When he finally parts, he promises, "I always will."

[sweetstrawberrysky]

evil pomni be like club penguin is kil

[sweetstrawberrysky]

Has anyone else noticed that Every Time someone brings up to Jax idea of him being ‘evil’ or ‘mean’ or ‘corrupting others’ he’s noticeably upset? I can’t take screenshots rn but watch his reaction in all of those.

He gets upset, defensive, and denies it. He doesn’t see himself that way- he wants everyone to loosen up like him, I think, and not take it so personally.

And when he gives his “you people are my playthings” rant, immediately after he gets upset with himself- he’s probs thinking WHY WHY DID I SAY THAT-

Another example I can remember off the top of my head rn is when Ragatha claims that Jax is ‘corrupting’ Pomni. He goes off on her- he’s offended and hurt. He had to wipe his real feelings off his face when Pomni came by.

Jax really is afraid of showing human emotions, I think, and is hoping everyone else will give up on them too. He doesn’t really mean harm, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t. However, when you’ve been stuck in a colorful wacky world for many months non-stop, I can only imagine it gets hard to believe any of it is ‘real’.

[sweetstrawberrysky]

CAN SHE HAVE ONE WIN??

[sweetstrawberrysky]

He DEFINITELY love that hug.

And he DEFINITELY had a flashback

This is going to give more depth to funnybunny. He's definitely grown attached to her, even telling her personal things. He's definitely SCARED of having someone close to him.