#I can now rest assured that it’s somewhere safe

[devildom-moss]

So, I saw your tags under your updated version of the req list and I just wanted to say that uh. A majority of your Satan and Meph requests are from the same person and that I'm glad we can like, share a braincell back and forth like this. And just a Thank you so much your writing is always fantastic! 💖💕

Aww, thank you so much!! and thank you for the requests, too. 🖤

And hell yeah. I love sharing a braincell back and forth, and I think we're using it for good: spreading love and adoration for these two menaces.

[guiltyasdave]

help me hold onto you

pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant! f!reader

word count: ~3.5k

summary: Logan deals with feeling guilty after he's accidentally cut you with his claws in his sleep.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be pulled, no use of y/n, Logan lifts reader up but he's superhumanly strong, so-, graphic description of an injury, graphic description of violence, angst, nightmares, Logan's pov, fighting as foreplay, unprotected p in v, rough sex, biting, praise kink, a lot of animalistic behavior due to their mutations, like they're just a little... primal, it's cute i swear, also reader looks like a human being it's just the mannerisms, fluff

a/n: guess i'm a multi fandom writer now? this literally came to me in a fever dream, very much like the logan brainrot itself lol. this is my first time writing for the man, after watching the movies - also for the first time - last week, so please be gentle with me <3 something very similar happens in the origins movie and i wanted them to explore that more, but alas, i had to do it myself.

massive thanks to @kiwisbell for assuring me that this idea isn't terrible and for freaking out about logan with me in general, to @catchallfangirl for coming up with the whole cat theme and for being so supportive, to @sizzlingcloudmentality for matching my freak and taking the cat theme to the next level, for helping me plot and for being an amazing beta reader, and to @javier-pena for listening to me rant about this idea and being so lovely and supportive <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics who is a queen <3

notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here

Most nights, Logan sleeps easier when you’re in bed with him. Your body pressed against his, your skin soft and warm against his bare chest. One of his thighs between your legs where you’ve wrapped yourself around him, your touch moving over his torso aimlessly, fingers curling into his chest hair, your hands kneading his flesh in your sleep. The soothing little purrs that emit from your chest when you’re sound asleep. None of it bothers him, no matter how many times it disturbs his own rest. 

It keeps him grounded, feeling you next to him. He’d rather spend the whole night somewhere in that haze between waking and sleeping, listening to your sounds, your breath fanning against his skin, than being pulled under into the depths of his subconsciousness. 

He’d rather open his eyes to see you disentangling your limbs from his, stretching your whole body, arching against him as you yawn. 

He’d rather greet you with a smiling “Good morning, kitten,” waiting for that adorable little crease to appear between your brows when you pout up at him. 

“Did I do it again?” 

He doesn’t hide his grin as he nods, growing wider when you flop back against the cushions with a groan. 

“What exactly?”

“All of it.” 

Your sorry comes out muffled as you hide your face behind your hands. 

“It’s okay,” he says, leaning over you to pull your hands away and kiss the pout off your lips. Caressing that spot under your chin with two fingers, watching you go all soft, baring your throat to him. “I like it.” 

He would much rather wake up like this. 

But it’s been a long week and he’s exhausted. Exhausted enough to get lulled into a deep sleep, encased in the safe cloud of your warm body against his and your touch on his skin. Exhausted enough to dream. And his dreams are not a safe place. 

His eyes fly open with a shout, his whole body jolting upwards, every muscle pulled taut. He doesn’t even register the claws shooting out between his knuckles, all of his instincts screaming at him to fight. 

He’s only faintly aware of the sudden yelp of pain from beside him, the movement of something jerking away from him. 

“Logan,” your voice rings through the buzzing in his ears. Smaller hands landing on his shoulders, fighting to hold him steady. 

It takes a few disoriented blinks before he recognizes the familiar bedroom, a few more deep breaths to stop his body from shaking. To clear the fog in his head enough to understand what you’re saying.

“It’s me, Logan. You’re safe, everyone’s safe, it’s okay.” 

His eyes find yours in the semi-darkness. Wide with worry, but firmly trained on his face, repeating that everything’s okay. He finally registers the familiar weight of you straddling him, understands that it’s your fingers digging into his shoulders. 

He’s still panting, not daring to look away from your face again. The one tether that keeps him from getting lost in his mind again. 

“Are you with me?” you ask, your voice softer now. 

He manages a nod, tries to smile, to wipe the deep worry of your face, but he’s not sure if his mouth even twitches. 

As the feeling slowly returns to his body, he notices something else. A kind of wetness, warm and sticky where your right hand is connected to his skin. The unmistakable tang of iron in the air. He stretches to turn on a bedside lamp, jostling you along with his movement. A quiet whimper hits his ears, so low that he’s sure you tried to suppress it. 

With a new kind of panic surging through him, he grabs hold of your arm, bringing it to his eye level. 

Three scratches ooze in deep red, just beneath your wrist. It forces a gasp from him, eyes dancing frantically between the wounds on your arm and your face. How much blood did you lose already while you were busy helping him? As if he deserved it. 

“Fuck, I’m— I’m so sorry baby, we gotta—” He stumbles over his own words, grasping at you almost blindly, panicked tears blurring his vision. He did this. 

“Logan,” you say, still so inexplicably calm. “It’s fine. Look. It’s fine.” 

You gently pry his fingers off your arm and bring your wrist up to your mouth. Your tongue darts out, drawing long licks against your marred skin, collecting the blood and gliding over the cuts in your flesh. 

It pains him to watch, but it’s the least he can do. The least he owes you. He watches you clean the blood off, watches as the wounds start shrinking at the touch of your saliva, as the skin smoothes over before his very eyes until there’s only three thin marks left, a shade lighter than the rest of your skin. 

“Look,” you tell him again, extending your arm towards him. “I told you it’s okay.” 

He knows you can do this, of course he does. Has watched you multiple times, his fascination with your powers never wavering. How fluidly you move, how quick you attack, how skilled you are at surviving. You just never had to survive him. 

You lean down on top of him until your whole torso rests on his, your thighs still on either side of him, burrowing your head into his chest. “Which war did you dream about?” you ask quietly.

Most of the time, the dreams don’t grant him the mercy to zero in on one single memory. It’s a constant stream, one fight after the other, until all he knows is shouting, fighting, blood and death.

“All of them.” 

You sigh deeply, your breath cool against his sweat-dampened skin. Raising your head a little, you start placing kisses on his chest, pressing your lips into his skin where you can feel the faint beating of his heart.

“I wish I could kiss this better, too,” you mumble. 

He chuckles humorlessly, one hand reaching into your hair to scratch at your scalp. You shudder at the touch, an approving little purr traveling up your throat. 

“It’s okay now,” he mutters, leaning in to inhale the scent of your hair. “Just— I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be.” 

It sounds so simple, falling from your lips like this. But it’s no match for the aching guilt that’s already eating at him, the questions of what if that start swirling through his mind. 

Your body is growing heavier on top of him as you relax, your breaths evening out and your eyelids fluttering shut. It soothes him, has his own breathing slowing down, but he can’t risk falling asleep again. Not like this, not with your body so close to his.

“What are you— Logan?” comes your instant protest when he moves you to your side of the mattress, your eyes flying back open, wide and mildly confused.

“I could’ve killed you,” he mutters. It could have happened so easily. Just a little deeper, just a slightly different spot. 

“No, you couldn’t,” you quip, arching an eyebrow at him. “Cats have nine lives, remember?” You sneak another quick kiss on his chest before finding his gaze again, a teasing smile on your lips. “Even kittens.” 

It’s an attempt to lighten the mood, to make him laugh. He knows that. You hate the pet name he’s given you. 

“And you’re not gonna waste one on me,” he grits out. 

Hurt flashes over your face, more pain in your eyes than when there was an actual wound on your arm. 

“It wouldn’t be—”

“Don’t you dare say it wouldn’t be a waste.” 

The words come out as a low growl, aggressive enough to send most anyone running. You don’t run. 

Your animal doesn’t like it when he growls at you. He can feel the tension rolling off of you, your hair probably standing on end. Gritting your teeth, you take a deep breath, release your fingers’ grip from digging into the sheets.

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” you tell him, resignation in your voice. 

Your eyes fall shut again, your head for once resting on your own pillow instead of his chest. He misses the weight of it instantly. You doze off quickly, your hands still pawing weakly at his side, like your body can’t help it. He almost pulls you closer himself. 

While you sleep, Logan forces his own eyes to stay wide open, staring unseeingly into the darkness. 

It’s a quiet day. You had tried talking to him, tried to convince him that it’s okay, that it’s fine. He can’t keep listening to you insisting that him almost killing you is no big deal. He should have known, should have been more aware of the risk instead of letting himself get lost in the blissful sensation of your body curled around his every night. You’ve trusted him so completely, only for him to let you down. 

Just like he always does, the voice in his head whispers.

No matter how many times you swear that you can take care of yourself, he should still be protecting you, not actively putting you in danger while you’re fucking asleep. It’s happened once now, so it can happen again, and he knows that he could never forgive himself. 

He knows that he’s hurting your feelings. Sees how your brows knit together when he barely kisses you back throughout the day. How you bite your lip when the way you’re butting your head against his doesn’t make him chuckle like it usually does. 

He should be angry at himself. He is. But you shouldn’t be the one to catch the brunt of it, and it makes him feel even worse. You always say that he should talk about his feelings more, that it would help to let them out. He suspects that you’re right. He just doesn’t know how.

By evening, you’ve grown uncharacteristically quiet, but he keeps catching your burning glares at him when you think he isn’t looking. Finally, after you’ve stared at him for what felt like an eternity and he’s pointedly ignored you, you seem to snap.

“Can you stop it?!” It leaves your mouth in a hiss, triggering his instincts before the words even register in his brain. 

“Stop what?” he growls back. 

Your fingers curl as a low snarl escapes you. Normally, neither of you lets your animalistic side take over like that. Normally, you’re good at soothing each other. 

But tonight, he can feel the energy crackle between you, the tension begging to be released. 

“You know what! This fucking— sulking or whatever it is you think you’re doing!” 

He rises to his feet, pulling up to his full height. One of your hands twitches. 

“I’m not—” 

You charge at him with an angry shout before another word can leave his mouth. You’re on him in a flash, grabbing onto his arm and letting your momentum carry you until you’re behind him, your nails digging into his shoulders until you’re perched on his backside. 

Whipping his head around, he bares his teeth at you, growls rumbling in his chest. You angrily hiss in his face and swing a hand at him in return, leaving angry red scratches down his cheek. They heal and fade as quickly as they came, but a triumphant grin flashes over your features regardless. 

“Come on, Logan,” you breathe into his ear. The edge in your voice sends fire straight through him. “Fight. You’re not gonna break me.” Your canines nip at his earlobe, somewhere between affectionate and challenging.

He tries shaking you off, but your grip on him only tightens. He collects a fist of your hair instead, pulling harshly to keep your teeth away from his throat. 

“Enough,” he grits, trying desperately to regain control, to become more human again, to smother the primal need to match your aggression. 

He finally grabs hold of one of your hands as well and manages to rip you off his back and in front of him, holding on tight to your upper arms to keep you in place. You’re snarling and twisting in his hold, but he doesn’t let up. 

“Enough,” he repeats, searching your wild eyes. Your movements slow down a fraction, giving him a moment of hope, before you surge forward and bury your teeth in his lower lip. It hurts like hell and he can taste blood on his tongue instantly. 

“Fight me,” you demand again, baring your teeth at him.

He pulls you back by your hair with a roar, gathers both your wrists in one large hand and holds you steady. You could still break free if you wanted to, he thinks. He might be stronger than you, but your movements turn almost liquid when you want to escape, he’s watched it more than once. 

The pain in his lip has already subsided, but his blood is still coating your mouth, a stark contrast against the white shimmer of your teeth. 

“Are you done?” His voice is harsh, his jaw clenched, carefully keeping the desire to strike back at bay. 

You deflate a little, some of the wildness draining from you before his eyes. 

“I just— I’m not fragile, I don’t want you to be scared of— of touching me.” Your voice grows small at the end and he’s horrified to see wetness glistening in your eyes. 

The fight mode leaves him as fast as it came, replaced with the overwhelming urge to care, to protect what’s his. His pack, in a way.  

He gathers you into his arms, curling himself around you. It feels good to hold you close again. Breathing you in deeply, he smells the adrenaline still oozing from you, hears the rapid beating of your heart. But mostly, it’s your unique scent, one that he thinks he could recognize anywhere. His tether to this world. 

“I’m sorry, kitten. I’m not scared of touching you,” he mumbles into your hair. 

You sniffle against his chest, but when you finally raise your head to look at him, new determination is glinting in your eyes. 

“Prove it,” you coo, tracing the shape of his lips with one fingertip. “Please.” 

That he can do. He nips at your finger playfully, your responding giggle the best sound he’s heard all day, before he shoves it out of the way to connect his lips with yours. It’s rough, a clashing of teeth and tongues, the tension that has been building and warping all day finally finding a release. 

You gasp into his mouth when his tongue moves against yours, your hands pulling at his hair, needing him closer and closer still, never close enough. His groan at the taste of you travels through you both as he’s grasping at your clothes. 

He longs for your warm skin under his palms, longs for how you lean into his touch so needy all the damn time. You pull away with a moan, helping him to pull your sweater over your head and stepping out of your jeans as he sheds his flannel. 

You bring both hands up to cup his face, to search his eyes. “Don’t be gentle,” you plead, “please, I need—” 

You don’t have to keep talking for him to understand what you need. I’m not scared of touching you. 

With a growl, his hands find your hips, holding you tight as he’s walking you backwards until your ass connects with the backside of the couch. He crowds you in, paws at every inch of bare skin he can reach, his cock already hard and aching at your soft warmth and the sweet mewls that tumble from your lips. 

Hitching one of your legs up to open you for him, he grinds himself against your barely covered center. A keening sound escapes you at the friction from his jeans against your sensitive flesh and he allows himself a grin. 

“Feels good, kitten?” 

You nod mindlessly, holding onto him and rocking your hips against his while you’re letting him move you however he sees fit. 

“Do you want more?”

“Please, Logan.”

You sound so sweet when you’re like this, when you put your body into his hands. I’m not scared of touching you.

Setting your leg back down, he watches with hunger as you hastily take off your underwear while he pulls the white tank top over his head and opens his belt buckle. He could swear that your pupils dilate a fraction at the sound of it, filling him with a possessive sense of pride. 

As soon as his jeans hit the floor, he’s all over you again, palming the weight of your breasts, tugging and pinching at your nipples as he swallows down your mewls. You’re soaking wet already, covering his cock in your slick as he nudges against your folds. He’s impatient to feel you all around him, to sink into you, to stake his claim again and again and again. 

He normally works you open longer, gives you more time to prepare, but your impatience is just as apparent as his own, with the way you whine and plead for him, your fingers digging into his flesh, trying to pull him nearer. 

He follows your pull, pressing your backside into the couch once more as he crowds your space. Leaning in, he kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth, one hand buried in your hair and holding you close. 

“I love you,” he breathes against your lips as he lets go of you. I’m not scared of touching you.

You smile softly, echoing the sentiment back at him. 

A surprised squeak escapes you when he turns you around suddenly, bending you over the back of the couch. He lines himself up at your dripping entrance, desperate to fill you up, to give you what you’re craving. 

“Not gentle?” he rasps once more, one hand curling around your neck from behind, both in reassurance and dominance. 

“Not gentle,” comes your breathy answer. It breaks off into a shriek of a moan when he slams into you with one long thrust, stretching your tight walls around his length. The sting of his sudden intrusion has to hurt at least a little, but you push back against him eagerly, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. 

Logan holds himself still for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of your squirming body and your needy little sounds, before he pulls out almost entirely, only to push back in forcefully. Your toes barely reach the floor with how far he’s bent you over, lifting you into the air with every harsh thrust, but he’s holding you steady with ease, both hands possessively spanning over your waist, positioning you exactly where he wants you. 

“Taking me so fucking well, like you were made for me,” he growls, gently scratching over your back with his nails. You arch up to chase his touch, tightening around him, almost purring with pleasure. Wetness pours out of you, coating his cock. I’m not scared of touching you. Not when it feels this good. 

“M–more, please,” you whine, blindly reaching backwards to him. 

He leans over you, cages you in, his arms on either side of you, his breath hot against your skin. His teeth sink into the back of your neck, not so deep as to draw blood, but enough that he knows the indents will stay there for quite some time. 

Your whole body goes limp at the sensation, a surprised mewl escaping you as you clench around him wildly. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, his own hips stuttering, “give it to me kitten, come on—” 

He reaches around your hip, fingers teasing through your slick folds and up to your clit, rubbing with slight pressure as he keeps pistoning into your heat. 

“Logan—” you gasp, getting almost impossibly tight, before you shatter around him. He keeps thrusting into you, keeps up his ministrations on your clit, until the pulsing of your cunt around him sends him over the edge as well. He spills his release deep inside of you, the thought of leaving a part of him with you always filling him with a primal satisfaction. 

Pulling you up instantly, he gathers you in his arms, your body soft and pliant against his chest. Walking around the couch and sinking into the cushions to lie down, he gently moves you until your weight is resting on top of him, his embrace wrapping around you.

You stir a little, needing a moment to take in your position. The look of uncertainty that you give him damn near breaks his heart. “Is this okay?” You sound uncertain, too.

God, he’s such an idiot. 

“Yeah, kitten. It’s— fuck, of course it’s okay.”

thank you so so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed, and if you did, a comment or a reblog would absolutely make my day :)

[semperamans]

I can’t stop thinking about protective Benny ugh

me too, doll. me fuckin' too.

this can be triggering for some as there are mentions of unwanted contact and violence, so im gonna ask that you read only if you feel up for it!

he just wants to know who did it, s'all. that's what he tells you as he wipes your tears. "d'you know what they looked like, mm?" he's got his palms pressed against your cheeks, bent down practically on his knees in front of you. "remember anythin' at all, baby?" and you don't know :( not really. there are hundreds of bikers gathered in this forgotten field somewhere outside of chicago, all of them so fucked that they hardly know their name, and you thought you were safe standing at the fire with the wives and girlfriends while benny went to take a piss but no. your back had been turned when you felt the brush of an unfamiliar hand over the swell of your ass, smelled the offensive odor of a mouth that hadn't seen a toothbrush in god knows how long, heard the indecent words spiked with whiskey and ill-intent and benny just wants to know but you're sobbing these big wet sobs that he can't seem to get under control.

"he was- he had-" you're all start and no finish and benny just wants to put you in his pocket where no one can get you :( but he can't :( so he just brings you closer, presses your head against his chest, and lets you cry until you finally have the coherence to tell him about the spider tattoo on the assailant's hand. and okay, now benny knows and great, you're starting to calm down a bit. he consoles you, doesn't tell you it's okay because it's not but he is here. "m'right here. okay? feel me, honey. c'mon, give me your hands." he rubs your fingers over his cheeks, they're so soft, then you explore the coarse hair of his beard "m'right here. s'okay. nothin' is gonna happen to you." down his nose, across his jacket, venturing toward the studs that make out his intials and now you're more present just breathlessly hiccuping and latched onto the dingy white shirt benny wears beneath his cut. "need you to sit with johnny for me, okay? i gotta go take care of somethin'." johnny doesn't ask what happened because benny has that look in his eyes and he knows he'll be making a trip to county later if he's lucky or the pen if benny kills the guy, but that's just fine. johnny takes you, wrapping an arm over your shoulder, allowing you to hide your face in his neck because even in your state you know benny is about to make a scene. "m'gonna be back. okay? promise. stay with johnny. he's not gonna let nothin' happen to you."

time drips on in that sluggish, anticipatory way and you're practically asleep by the time benny returns. he no longer wears a shirt, just his denim vest that's splattered with blood and those worn levis with the knees practically blown out. you sit up so quickly it makes you dizzy. "s'alright." benny assures you, hands up in a placating way. oh, there's his shirt torn to shreds and being used as bandages for his no doubt destroyed knuckles. "gotta get outta here, yeah?" johnny helps you stand, passing your hand to benny's so so gently. "you're gonna stay with me tonight. need you call your momma and let her know you won't be makin' it home." and you don't go home. you spend the rest of the night latched onto benny like a woebegone infant and he doesn't mind in the slightest. “m’sorry, baby. won’t let nothin’ like that happen again.”

[suashii]

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒴𝒪𝒰, 𝐿𝒪𝒱𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝑀𝐸

info ⭑ gojo x reader. 1.7 wc. sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au ﾉ navigating relationships

“did you miss me while you were at work?”

you jokingly roll your eyes, having expected the question. gojo asks you the same thing over the phone each time you’re making the walk home. he expects a certain answer, one you usually give to him but you’re feeling a little playful tonight. even though he can’t see it, you smile with your next words. “mm, i was a little too busy to think about you.”

there’s a slight pause on the line before gojo replies. “not even a little bit?”

you can hear the pout in his voice and picture the expression in your head—his fluffy white eyebrows pulled together in a frown, bottom lip petulantly poked out. the mental image makes your smile grow wider.

“i’m kidding,” you assure him, adjusting the phone in your hand. he may ask the same question after all of your shifts, but your actual answer never changes. “of course i did.”

his crackly laugh sounds through the speaker and in the chill of the night, it sparks a warmth within you. it’s a sound you’re sure you’ll never get tired of hearing.

“good. i missed you, too.”

you bite your cheek to keep the smile from overtaking your face. it’s been a few months since the two of you started dating but you’re still not used to the unabashed affection gojo continuously shows you. 

you can’t seem to find the right words to respond to his sentiment but the end of your commute gives you the opportunity to change the subject.

“hey, i’m almost home,” you tell gojo as you approach the stairs leading up to your apartment. “i’ll text you when i get inside.”

“sure,” he hums, “talk to you later.”

“bye,” you draw out the vowel before pulling the phone away from your ear and ending the call. you stuff the device in your bag and your hands in your pockets as you make your way up the stairs that’ll take you to your apartment. the cold air nips at the exposed skin of your face, making you pick up the pace in hopes of quickly getting somewhere warmer. as you reach the final step, something catches your attention.

there’s a figure on the wooden platform a few feet from your door. 

it should startle you, but you’re beginning to grow used to the sight. just like his calls, gojo has made a habit of showing up outside your place on nights when you work late. you can’t lie—there’s a certain level of comfort you’re met with each time you’re greeted by the back of his head.

you clear your throat as you walk up to him. “my neighbors are going to start thinking you’re a stalker if you keep showing up like this.”

your voice alerts gojo of your arrival and his head swivels so that he can meet your gaze. there’s a smile tugging at your lips that makes his own curl up at the corners. “can you blame me for wanting to make sure you get home safe?”

bright blue eyes follow you as you come to stand in front of the man. despite the iciness of the air, his coat is left unbuttoned. you’re able to see that he’s wearing a suit underneath his outerwear—he must have come straight here after finishing his internship for the day.

“i just got off the phone with you,” you tell him through a short laugh, pulling your hands out of your pockets to pull his coat closed, though it doesn’t stay. you wonder how long he’s been waiting but you know he won’t tell if you ask.

he leans forward into your touch with his next words. “maybe i want to see you walk through the door with my own eyes.”

“gojo—” before you can get the rest of your sentence out, the man holds a hand out to stop you.

“i told you, it’s satoru.” he’s been persistent about reminding you to call him by his first name ever since the two of you started dating. now is no different and he even goes as far as placing his hands on your waist, sounding out each syllable for you. “sa-to-ru. got it?”

the way he stares up at you with those sparkling eyes and that charming grin makes your heart jump in your chest. expectation lingers behind his gaze and you can sense his anticipation by the way his lithe fingers tap at your waist.

“fine… satoru.” the name still feels foreign on your tongue but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the taste of it. you clear your throat before sliding your hands up onto his shoulders. “you don’t have to keep doing this. it’s starting to get cold outside and you’ll get sick sitting out here.”

he shrugs. “i don’t mind.”

you sigh, readying to drill into him how important his health is when you notice, feel, that his shoulders are trembling with shivers. under a more attentive eye, the redness of his ears and cheeks also make themselves known. despite his carelessness, you can’t find it in yourself to scold him when his actions were so well-intended.

with the click of your tongue, you grab gojo’s tie and give it a gentle tug. “come inside and warm up.”

you weren’t sure it was possible, but gojo’s smile spreads even wider upon hearing your invitation. as if saying “don’t mind if i do,” the man stands to his full height. he towers above you now, but his presence is far from imposing. “after you.”

you lead the way, digging around your bag for your keys. they jingle as you pull them out and the click of your door unlocking sounds throughout the night air. your apartment is dark and as you reach to flip on the light switch, you wonder if you cleaned up this morning. gojo has been here before but you worry about embarrassing yourself with a mess.

though, you can’t stand around in the darkness forever. hoping that the unit is presentable, you turn on the main light. brightness floods the area and, to your credit, nothing more than a misplaced jacket dirties the room. you give yourself a mental pat on the back while you hang up your keys. when you turn to look at gojo, he’s in the process of shedding his coat. you mirror his actions but remind him, “you can’t stay long. i have an early shift tomorrow.”

he doesn’t stop taking his coat off but his smile is traded in for a frown. you’ve all but kicked him out before he’s even gotten settled, and because of work, at that. he’s beginning to think your coworkers see you more often than he does. he drapes his coat on the back of one of the chairs in your kitchen. “you know, if you moved in with me, you could quit your job.”

you almost laugh before you realize he isn’t joking. gojo has always been direct—since before you were dating and when the two of you got together—so his suggestion shouldn’t be surprising. still, every offer he makes to pamper and spoil you tends to catch you off guard. it’s not the proposals themselves, no, but the way he brings them up so casually as if they should be a given—expected.

everything about dating gojo is different from past relationships you’ve had. he expresses his love in ways unfamiliar to you, ways that are sometimes difficult for you to accept—not because you don’t want to but because you aren’t sure how. it doesn’t seem to bother gojo but you wonder when the time will come when you’re comfortable enough to consider taking him up on his offer.

“tempting, but no. ask me again in a couple of months,” you tell him over your shoulder from your place at the kitchen counter. you know he will. “want some tea?”

outwardly unaffected by your rejection, gojo hums in confirmation as he takes a seat at your table. it doesn’t take you long to prepare the warm beverage and place a cup of it in front of the man. you plop down across from him with a mug of your own.

“how was your day?” you ask him before taking a cautious sip of your tea.

“same old, same old,” he replies, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his cupped palms. it squishes his cheeks and gives him a youthful appearance.

under the fluorescent lights of your kitchen, it’s impossible not to pick up on the dark crescents below his eyes. now that the cold isn’t keeping him alert, you can tell just how exhausted he is.

“really? you look kind of tired.”

he brushes off your concern. “i’m fine.”

the phrase is one that gojo utters often but you’re having a hard time believing him tonight. it wouldn’t be safe for him to drive home in his current condition. even though you had been pretty adamant about him taking his leave earlier, you reconsider.

“why don’t you stay here tonight?” you suggest, holding the mug in your hands up to your mouth.

that much seems to capture gojo’s attention as his eyes widen in curiosity. you hide the smile threatening your lips behind your mug.

“are you sure?”

it’s at this moment that you realize—maybe the way you love is unfamiliar to gojo, too. maybe your invitations come as a surprise in the same way his do to you. and maybe, just like you, he’s wary of accepting your affections, nervous to get too comfortable.

the thought makes you want him to stay even more.

so, without hesitation, you nod. “you look like you’re two seconds away from collapsing. just sleep here.”

“well, if you insist, how could i say no?” gojo grins. it’s a sleepy one that doesn’t reach his eyes but it’s obvious that he’s grateful—for the gesture, of course, but even more so that he’s finally able to spend more time with you, even if that time will be spent sleeping.

you giggle at his response, gathering the cups and putting them in the sink before jerking your head in the direction of your bathroom. “come on, sleepy-head. let’s get ready for bed.”

hey there! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎

[starkwlkr]

Can I request a protective Max going above and beyond to keep his gf or fiancee (you take the call) safe from a stalker? I'd leave the rest to your imagination on how to make it dramatic cause I love drama.

nothings going to hurt you baby | max verstappen

Y/n was always a private person, but that all changed when she met Max. She was often seen in the paddock supporting her boyfriend. She went from staying in on Friday nights to traveling around the world to watch Max race. She realized how many eyes were on her when her friend sent her multiple articles with her name in bold letter on the front cover.

It was the first race of the season and Y/n was once again in the paddock. This time though she was alone. Her friend that usually accompanied her to the races was busy. As she walked towards the Red Bull hospitality, the usual photographers took her picture. Even after years of dating Max, she was never getting used to the constant flashing lights that belonged to the cameras.

When she reached the hospitality, she sat at a table near the window and took out her phone. It was a regular routine for Y/n now. Stay a few minutes in the Red Bull hospitality, meet up with Max before the race then went up to the paddock roof and watched the race from there.

After spending sometime alone, she put her phone in her pocket and walked out of the hospitality, completely unaware that a man had followed her out. In a few short minutes, she found herself entering the Red Bull garage.

“Is Max in his driver’s room?” She asked Max’s engineer, Gianpiero. He nodded with a smile and continued his work.

Y/n walked to the driver’s room and knocked lightly until she heard Max’s voice telling her to come in. She opened the door and saw Max finishing putting on his race suit.

“How are you feeling?” Y/n asked, approaching Max and giving a kiss on the lips.

“Well since you’re here, I’m feeling pretty good. You know I always do well when you’re here.” Max replied. “I don’t want you to be alone so you can stay in the garage instead.”

“Max, I’ll be fine. There’s going to be people around me so I won’t be alone.” Y/n assured him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Some fan might want to bother you. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable during the race.”

“I’ll be fine, Max.”

Of course that didn’t happen.

During the race, she could feel eyes on her. It was kind of normal since most fans recognized her as Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. But this time, Y/n felt different. Her mother always told her to trust her gut feeling. So in that moment she did. Y/n walked down the stairs of the paddock roof and tried to walk to the Red Bull garage but some man ran into her.

“I’m so sorry. Oh, you’re a very pretty girl. I’m sorry.” He told her.

“Excuse me, I need to be somewhere.” Y/n tried walking away but he blocked her way.

“Where to? You look lost.”

“I know where I’m going so please move.” Y/n started feeling scared. She should’ve listened to Max.

“Woah, no need to get mad. I’m a nice guy. Why are girls always mean to the nice guys?” He asked.

“I’m done talking to you.” Y/n pushed past the man. She had a feeling he would start to follow her so she walked a bit faster towards the garage that only the Red Bull team (including her) could enter. When she arrived, she let out a sigh of relief.

She remained in the garage until the end of the race. Max had ended up on the podium once again. Y/n wanted to celebrate with the team and Max, but she once again had the feeling that the scary man would take the opportunity to find her so she stayed in the garage while the team celebrated another win.

When Max arrived to the garage, he first went up to his girlfriend, obviously confused as to why she wasn’t out in the track.

“I’m sorry. I was scared and I should’ve listened to you and stayed here. I’m so sorry.” Y/n rambled as Max gave her a much needed hug.

“Hey, what’s wrong? I’m here.” Max assured her, pressing light kisses to her forehead.

“On the roof, I had this strange feeling so I was on my way down here and this guy wouldn’t let me walk away, Max. He tried following me so I came here as fast as I could.” Y/n explained. “I should’ve listened to you.”

“You’re okay now. You’re here with me and that’s all that matters. I’m not letting some guy hurt you.”

Max had talked with Christian about making sure someone was always with Y/n during a race. The team leader even made sure the garage had more security. Now, Y/n felt more safe. Every race after the incident, she stayed in the garage and if she wanted to watch the race from a different location, someone was always with her, even when it came to watching Max celebrate on the podium. Max wasn’t going to let anyone hurt the woman he loves.

Right after the podium ceremony, he would make sure to check on Y/n before he was pulled away for interviews.

“How are you feeling?” Max asked Y/n as he wiped his face with a towel. Y/n smiled at him and kissed his lips that tasted like champagne.

“I’m more than okay. Thank you.” Y/n replied.

“I have a couple interviews to do. Sarah said she would stay with you.” Max informed his girlfriend.

“Sometimes I feel like Sarah is my babysitter. I love her, remind me to get her something good for her birthday. I’m thinking a trip to the Bahamas.” Y/n chuckled.

“I think she’ll love that.”

[donutz]

Dogday x gn reader angst

Request from Tumblr—! Here you go Dawko-fanpage☆

—☆You are a human in this

Searching around, you always find something interesting.

Like the dead bodies of toys, or blood splatters, a pool? That's something you didn't expect in this place.

One thing you figured out yourself about this place is that it's huge. It's like the square miles of this place is more than Mount Everest!

And even in this hell hole, you still made some friends. Some as in Poppy, Kissy Missy, and a smaller version of Dogday. It jumped on you when you weren't aware, but it didn't try to eat or kill you. It rubbed its head against yours, maybe these tiny critters can actually be cute.

Other than the fact they eat humans and toys.

And have jumped a singular man as a group.

.

.

.

Let's just hope this small Dogday stays innocent.

You were in a somewhat safe spot. These colorful and soft walls kind of distract you from the real world.

You wanted to rest, just for a while.

But something's telling you to go ahead. And the fact there's a murderous purple cat on the loose, hunting you down.

To have you not thinking about it, you pet the small puppy.

Cutely, it stuck its tongue out and started wagging its tail. Even the slightest bit of happiness can comfort you here.

You closed your eyes, resting, thinking about what to do next. When a small head lightly bumped against your stomach, bringing you back to the real world.

“Why'da bump me hm?” The tiny jumped off your lap and went somewhere.

“Oh, wait I don't wanna lose you!” You whisper yelled. You kept your eyes on it, following where it’s going.

You stumble upon an eerie hallway, being suspicious, you scruffed the small Dogday just in case. It tried to get out of your grasp, squirming, “I know you want to just go everywhere, but c’mon at least have some security for yourself.” You said to the tiny critter.

“You! You’re Poppy’s angel!” The rough voice scared you, making you flinch. When you saw the source of the voice, your eyes went wide.

“Come to save us.” The small one stopped squirming and was also looking at the much bigger Dogday. Maybe that’s why it was running over here, to tell you about the suffering life form you never knew about.

“Nothing left to save, not here.” He looked up at you, noticing you had the smaller critters, aka the ones who were eating him bit by little bit.

“...”

He shook his head and resumed his talking, “You’re in Catnap’s home, angel.” But he saw that you were distracted. With talking to the smaller version of him.

“Eat those belts and I’ll give you scratches for the longest time.” You whispered. The smaller Dogday understood and jumped onto Dogday’s arms, he flinched, scared he’ll get hurt again.

“Uhh, continue with what you’re saying, the smaller you is gonna eat away at the belts, don’t worry he’s tamed.”

“... If you say so Angel, You’re in their home. A million pairs of—” Dogday’s left arm was released.

‘Wow he sure is efficient..’ Dogday thought.

“eyes are on you now… Watching, waiting, hungr—” You caught Dogday before he could fully fall on the ground.

“See? Tamed!” You said with a smile as the small Dogday crawled up your arm. “Now, let’s go before all of us get eaten!”

Tiny Dogday crawled into your pocket as the bigger Dogday shifted to your back.

Even with the bigger Dogday being huge, you still managed through. I guess you being here gives you big muscles.

You finally made it outside. And could rest while at it.

“Bigger Dogday, I’m gonna patch you up. I don’t know how to reattach your legs back, but I’ll try to not have your organs nearly fall out.” You stated, assuring that Dogday won’t be in as much pain he’s currently in.

“You don’t need to angel—”

“But I’m gonnaaaa. So stop being so selfless.” You could hear small giggles coming from your pocket.

“What, you think this is funny to you? Huh ya little vermin?” The tiny was still giggling, even louder than before.

You let out a sigh and continued on, Dogday smiled(an actual one) a little from his smaller version.

You found medical supplies and went to work on patching up Dogday, trying to be as careful as you can. He’s been through enough before you even got here.

The tinier Dogday watched your process, jumping from your pocket and rubbing its head against Dogday’s much larger hand. He flinched a bit, but pet his smaller version.

After 15-30 minutes, you were done. “Alright, I’m done!”

“Angel, this is amazing I—!”

You heard the familiar sound of metal scratching against a floor. Oh come on, you can’t get a little bit of rest?! It was the Prototype, you thought he only comes near you if you killed somebody! And Dogday nor his smaller version is dead.

So, why is he here?

Well, you either defend yourself with your life, or sacrifice it or something. Though the hand most likely knew some moves, you still need to defend the two puppies that are behind you.

You’ve done the impossible so you can do this right?

Wrong! (＾▽＾)

The Prototype’s sharp and metallic fingers were plunged into your heart.

“ANGEL NO!” (I don’t know how to make this seem serious, I’m just here💀)

His hands were removed from your heart, though he didn’t take your body to build himself(that’s what I headcanon) maybe you weren’t worthy enough.

Prototype was looking for Dogday, but fortunately, he was nowhere to be seen, neither was his smaller version.

He needed to search, to find him, but— he doesn’t feel like it right now. So he left. Leaving you to die, maybe.

Who knows?

You can always do the impossible.

[theemporium]

Before it ends! 💚 "Maybe you should back off a little." with Quinn Hughes pls :)

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

16. “Maybe you should back off a little.”

.

You had barely been gone thirty seconds when the woman bounced. 

Quinn had been sitting at the bar, saving your stool as you quickly pushed your drink towards him and pecked his lips before muttering that you needed to use the bathroom. He had taken his job seriously, placing his jacket over your stool to stop someone from sitting on it and guarding your drink to keep it safe. 

He hadn’t even noticed the woman approaching him until he felt someone shoving his jacket onto his lap and turned to find some blonde sliding onto your stool.

“Uh, that seat is taken,” Quinn said, trying to sound as polite as he could and flash the woman a small smile.

“Yeah, it is now,” she grinned as she leaned her elbow against the counter, tilting her head at him curiously. “You looked lonely.” 

He raised his brows. “I can assure you I am not.”

“I don’t mind giving you some company though,” the woman giggled, nudging her knee against Quinn’s and he resisted the urge to push his stool further away. “What’s your name, handsome?” 

“Taken,” you quipped as you found yourself leaning against Quinn’s side, looking at the woman in your seat with narrowed eyes. 

Her eyes settled on you, her smile slightly strained as she tried to laugh you off. “You’re a funny one, you should really take your jokes somewhere else. Maybe those guys by the pool table will like them.”

“Maybe you should back off a little,” you retorted as Quinn threw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into his side to emphasise your point.

“He seemed to enjoy it,” she countered, almost sounding smug.

“He can confirm he did not,” Quinn spoke up, shrugging his shoulders a little when the woman seemed to look at him in betrayal. 

“Whatever,” she scoffed as she slid off the stool, trying to keep her head high. “You’re not my type anyways.” 

“Bye now!” You smiled and waved her off as she disappeared into the bustling crowd before you finally took your seat again. “Well, she was a treat.” 

Quinn was hardly biting back his smile as he handed you your drink, playfully nudging his knees against yours. “You’re hot when you get possessive.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re funny.”

“M’serious,” Quinn mused as he leaned closer, his hand resting on your thigh as he smirked at you. “You should get jealous more often.” 

“You should just be glad you were holding my drink,” you grumbled as you placed your hand over his. “One more word from her and I would’ve thrown it at her.”

Quinn snorted. “My little firecracker, huh?” 

“Yours,” you confirmed with a nod, leaning in to kiss him. “Hopefully she’s watching.” 

He only laughed harder.

.

[kamisatomay018]

Let yourself Love, Dear Iudex.

Neuvillette x female reader

Angst with comfort, very fluff and lengthy

Hope you enjoy!<3

“Forgive me, but I cannot accept your feelings..”

You were sure that if it was humanly possible, all of teyvat would’ve been able to hear your heart shatter. What were you expecting, that the Chief Justice of Fontaine would reciprocate your feelings? A fool is what you felt like, but you had no option, the feelings were too difficult to conceal, you needed to let it out even if it meant getting your heart broken. You had been the Iudex’s assistant for 4 years. You were excellent at your job, gaining the respect and admiration of all the people of Fontaine. Neuvillette had also been in awe of your work, and over the time you both had become closely acquainted with one another. He was an immaculate gentleman, his words sounding like the purest verses of poetry. His siren eyes held the depth of an ocean, his calm and gentle demeanour made you feel comforted. He was everything you could’ve ever asked for in a man.

After 2 years of loving him silently, you had gathered your courage to confess to him, somewhere hoping that the soft glances he often sent your way, the flowers you would receive from melusines and the hours you both spent chatting in his office about all sorts of topics weren’t just gestures a “friend” would receive. But of course, you were wrong. And now you stood in his office, heart aching and eyes wishing to burst into tears as the only man you had ever loved turned you down. You couldn’t be upset, you couldn’t be angry, you knew you couldn’t force him to love you. You heard the heavy rain pour outside, making you internally sigh in relief. At least outside this office you wouldn’t have to conceal your heartbreak.

You took a deep breath, managing to still smile despite the pain that swam in your green eyes, looking at the man in front of you who looked concerned and apologetic. Pity was the last thing you needed right now. “May I at least know why?” Perhaps this was not the wisest decision, perhaps his words would only pierce your shattered heart even more but you needed to know the truth. You knew that Neuvillette always spoke the truth, no matter how harsh it was. He was the Chief Justice for a reason after all.

Neuvillette’s eyes drifted away from yours, hesitant and clouded with emotions he himself struggled to understand. “I…do not understand love, I do not know if I feel the same way towards you for I can barely even understand myself. I cannot abandon my duties..”

You felt like scoffing or screaming because of this mediocre excuse he had given. It did not make sense to you, it did not make you understand whether you were the problem or that he just did not like you. His words were contradictory and confusing, and they infuriated you for some reason. You took another deep breath, not wishing to disrespect him. Before your friend, he was your superior. You stood up, just wanting to be as far away from him as possible for now. The walls of his office that were once your safe haven now felt suffocating, the walls which once echoed with your laughter were now filled with deafening silence.

“Then I’ll take my leave, my job for today is over. You can stay rest assured Monsieur, this topic will not be brought up, nor will it interfere with my work. Forgive me if I made you uncomfortable. Have a good night.”

“Please wait-“ but it was too late, you had walked out of his office hurriedly, tears falling as soon as you turned your back to him. The rain only grew stronger, as neuvillette felt even more conflicted, varieties of intense emotions creating chaos in his heart and mind. He felt so much pain, yet it wasn’t physical. He felt his heart become so heavy, guilt and remorse filling up his soul. Did he not do the right thing? He remembered the sight of your green eyes, which 10 minutes earlier shone brightly with happiness and warmth; but now because of him they looked pained and teary. Your trembling voice, the expression of pure agony on your face, he could not bear to remember it.

He knew that you were someone he trusted, someone he enjoyed spending his leisure time with. Whenever you were with him, it rarely rained. He felt content and happy, he felt less worried about the burden of his duties and his true identity. You were like sunshine to him, warm and bright, having the capability to shine through even the cloudiest of skies. But now he had dulled that bright shine, now he had hidden your bright light behind his dark grey clouds of rain. He massaged his forehead with his fingers. Archons, these emotions were so difficult to deal with. Now he was sure that he would lose you, and that fact hurt him so much that it made the skies roar with thunder. But he also couldn’t hurt you, he couldn’t lie to you. He truly did not understand love, so what if he was going to trap you in a beautiful lie? No, you deserved someone far better than him, a man who was not cowardly enough to hide in his office and make the people suffer through endless rain because he was in pain.

You stood outside your apartment building, drenched in rain. At least the sky was crying with you, and was helping you conceal your tears. How pitiful you must be looking, you thought, crying because of a rejection. But what bothered you was that Neuvillette’s reason for rejecting you was absolutely barbaric and ridiculous. So what if he didn’t understand love? If only he had given you a chance, you would’ve helped him learn what love is. But you were not going to beg for his love, you were not going to be desperate for anyone. All you could hope for was that he would come to his senses and realise that he just needed to open his heart and let himself love someone.

The next morning started, but there was no sun shining, rather the rain kept pouring down on the city unrelentingly. Worried about the Hydro Dragon, the traveler and Paimon entered his office, hoping to ease his troubles. “Neuvillette what’s wrong? It’s been raining cats and dogs since last evening!” Spoke paimon’s cheerful voice, as her tiny frame floated towards him. He looked up, a small yet tired smile forming on his face. “Ah it’s you two, forgive me for this rain, it must be causing quite and inconvenience for you.” The traveler observed the melancholy in the Chief Justice’s eyes and walked towards him. “We are just worried about you, please tell us, what’s wrong?”

“My thanks to you both for your concern, but I’m afraid that I cannot find the proper words to describe my emotions..” “That’s not a problem, just speak your heart out!!” Paimon said, and her words made Neuvillette think. Speak his heart out? Had he ever done that? “Please keep this matter extremely private then…” “of course we will neuvillette, you can trust us” the traveler said with a reassuring smile on his face.

“What is it like to…love someone?” Spoke they hydro dragon’s deep voice, laced with such heavy emotion. Both the traveler and his floating companion were shocked, never having expected such a question. They silently looked at each other, communicating through their eyes to help the poor man out as much as they could. Taking the lead like always, Paimon spoke in her loud yet cheerful voice. “That’s easy!! Paimon has read about love in soo many books! Some say that you feel butterflies in your tummy, that you feel like time stops and that they’re the one!!”

Neuvillette was perplexed at that. Time stopping? Butterflies in the stomach? What in teyvat was going on? “Oh stop it Paimon, you’re confusing him! Well, I personally have never been in love, but I have observed a lot of people in love and I can tell you about them, if that helps?” The traveler spoke, and neuvillette felt a great sense of gratitude. “Yes, that would be quite helpful.” “Well then, when you’re in love with someone, you feel calm and comfortable, and it’s as if time passes by in a flash when you’re around them. You feel like spending time in their company, you observe every little thing about them, their likes and dislikes, their habits..And when they’re not close, it makes your heart feel heavy, as if something is missing and just not right…What’s important is that if you love a person, you’d want to protect them forever, and seeing them hurt would hurt you physically, mentally and emotionally.”

Neuvillette felt as if his world had turned upside down. Every feeling described by the traveler was what he felt for you. Had he actually fallen in love unknowingly and rejected you? Dear archons, he was such a foolish man. “It..appears that I have made a grave mistake…” Paimon blinked curiously, looking at him. “What mistake?” “I turned down the girl I loved because I thought the emotions I feel for her weren’t love but something entirely different…” Oh boy, the traveler thought. So that’s why it’s been raining so much. “Well that’s not a problem! You can just go back to her and apologise! I’m sure she would understand if she loves you!!” Neuvillette’s eyes looked at Paimon with uncertainty. “Is it really that simple? Will she really forgive me?” The traveler smiled, placing his hands on his hips. “You won’t know until you try Neuvillette.”

After a good moment of silence, Neuvillette gathered his thoughts together, nodding. He had done wrong, and he had to correct it. He realised that he always felt this way around you, but he didn’t know it was love. You were very precious to him, and he couldn’t lose you because of his fault. “My sincere thanks to you both. I will remember your words. I should go now.” Paimon giggled, waving at him. “Good luck!!”

You were sitting in your bed, arms wrapped around yourself while you looked outside the window, hearing the pitter-patter of rain. It was your day off, which you were really thankful for. How could you face Neuvillette after what happened yesterday? You were snapped out of your thoughts as you heard knocks on your main door. Who could it be? You got up, opening the door and gasped softly. “Monsieur? What are you doing here- oh my you’re drenched!” Worry took over your heart as you led him inside your apartment, about to go fetch a towel for him. But you were stopped by his hand gently holding yours. “Please wait..there are things I wish to discuss with you Mon Amour..” wait. What did he just call you?

You turned to face him, now noticing the fresh rainbow roses in his hand, surrounded with sparkling water droplets. Could it be that he had finally realised something? You nodded at his words, a blush making itself visible on your cheeks. Neuvillette’s face lit up, as he sweetly handed you the flowers, then holding your free hand. “Please, forgive me, my reaction yesterday was unacceptable…I was just caught off guard, unable to process my emotions. But in that process I ended up hurting you, and that fact makes my soul ache endlessly…” your eyes turned soft, as you stepped closer to him. “Then have you processed your emotions now?”

His oh so beautiful siren eyes met yours, as he smiled “yes I have. With a little help, I understood that..I do indeed reciprocate your feelings Mon Amour…I do love you…” a tear fell down your cheek at those words. Finally, the words you wanted to hear for two years were spoken. “Are you sure..? You’re not forcing yourself to love me for my sake right?” He chuckled softly, cupping your cheeks softly, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “Mon Amour, I truly do love you. When you are near, my days are filled with joy. Your laughter is my remedy, your eyes are where I feel the most comfort..when you are away from me, my heart feels hollow, my entire being feels cold and empty. You are like sunshine for me, bright and warm, shining through the cloudy skies around my heart..But I cannot lie to you, loving me is not easy..I find it difficult to understand my emotions, and I might not be the best partner you need.”

Without caring about anything else, you hugged him tightly. This was all you needed, he was all you ever wanted. “Neuvillette, you are perfect for me. We have enough time, I will teach you how to love, I will show you what love feels like. I just need you by my side, I need your hand in mine.” Goodness, the warmth he felt in your embrace was so addictive that he never wished to leave. He hugged you closer, inhaling your scent. “I can promise you that I will always be by your side. You are everything for me Mon Amour…you are the only person who has taken the time to love me for who I am..I cannot thank you enough for it.”

The rain slowed down, and the clouds parted to make way for the bright sunlight to shine through the skies. A beautiful rainbow formed between the clouds, as the two lovers embraced one another. “Just let yourself love my dear Iudex, and everything will fall in place.” He smiled even more, heart full of joy. “I will try my best for you Sunshine..”

You looked at him now, with a smile so sweet that it made his heart race and stomach feel weird. Perhaps Paimon was right about the butterflies in the stomach. He watched as his love cupped his cheeks, leaning closer and as both their eyes closed, he felt her soft lips against his. Only he knows how crazy his heart went at that moment. Archons, he wouldn’t be able to survive this love if you kept going on. But did he want to stop? No; not at all. You both smiled as you kissed each other so softly, pure love blossoming in your hearts. You both were finally happy.

[yuyu1024]

Film

Pairings: Wooyoung × y/n

Genre/tags: idol bf

Warning: 🔞🔞🔞 fluff but smut, unprotected sex not too detailed (always be safe with consent), pet names, cursing, semi public, filming sex

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.6k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: just something drabbled

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

You are dropping by to visit the boys in their company, just to visit everyone and say hi to your boyfriend, who you have not seen for a few weeks now since its comeback promotion still. And they are busy filming contents, interviews and many more.

"Ah! Y/N!" San yells your name as soon as you enter the dance practice room.

You shyly wave at him and then bow to everyone. "Wooyoung, your girl is here." Mingi says as he pats your head before he exits the room to go somewhere.

"You're just in time." San says in all smile.

"We just finished practice." Seonghwa adds

"Oh... I see..." you answer. "By the way, I brought various of bread and cookies. You can share it with all members." You hand each paper bag to Seonghwa and then San.

"We'll share it. We'll just go up stairs to Hongjoong and Mingi. They wanted us to hear some songs they're making. The rest are there already" Seonghwa says

"Ohh... cool." You smile whilst looking around the room, looking for your man.

You find him at the computer with Jongho, playfully nagging at each other.

"I just dropped by the say Hi... I'll go after I say hi to him."

Both San and Seonghwa laughs. "Don't just say hi... bring him home with you." San says, "he said he's done for the day. And he kept saying we should finish already since you are coming today... and wants some alone time with you..." then San pouts his lips and does the kissing sound. "Babe time."

You cover your face, embarassed at how blunt your Wooyoung is. "Sorry...."

"We're used to it." Seonghwa bumps his shoulder to yours, "thanks again... see you around..."

"Bye~~~ y/n...." san says loudly so Wooyoung and Jongho could hear

"Okay... later..." Jongho smiles and waves goodbye to Woo. "Thanks for the food, noona." He then says to you

"Welcome..." then you poke his cheek, smiling ear to ear. "You did well on the immortal songs.."

"Ah...yeah... thank you." Jongho shyly smiles

"Enjoy the food..." you add before he exits.

The second the door shuts.

"What was that?" Wooyoung asks

"Hmm?"

"Why did you poke his cheeks?" He makes his way to you and then immediately pulls you to his embrace. "You don't do that to me..." he inhales your scent and then kisses the tiny exposed skin of your neck.

"It tickles..." you giggle trying to push him away.

"You don't want my kisses?" He looks offended

"No... not like that... it just... tickles..." you're cheeks are pink. You are getting excited and shy at the same time. It's the same feeling you felt when you two first started getting into physical touches. It's... giving you butterflies. "It's just... been... awhile..." you mumble

"I know." You hug him back as he hugged you. "I've been very busy...."

"It's okay.... it's part of your job..." you assure him while stroking the back of his head.

"I missed you." He nuzzles his face on your neck even though your hoodie is giving him a hard time reaching for your neck. "Oh shit." He groans as he moves his one hand under your hoodie and shirt. "Is this what I think it is?" He whispers to your ear as he felt the thin cover you are wearing over your breasts.

You nod, smiling whilst biting your lower lip. "You said, you wanted to see me wear your gift... so... I did wear them today..."

"So... that means..."

"Yes..." you kiss him on his cheek. "You can film me... if you still... want too..."

"Fucking hell..." he grunts as he lifts you and carries you to the corner of the room, by the mirror. "You're so hot... you know that?"

You giggle and kisses your man in the lips. "I'm not... you just love me..."

He puts you down and begins to make out with you. The kisses and moaning are very loud. You are both sure someone might hear you guys from outsife but you don't fucking care. It's been a while. And you two are fucking thirsty for each other.

"Maybe... we should take this somewhere else?" You say as you pull away

Wooyoung didn't want it to end. You saw him go after your lips the second you left him, mouth open and drooling for you. "Just a few more minutes..." he breathes. "I want to kiss you more..."

You grin. "You can kiss me more later...plus I need... no... I want more..." you are so red after saying that but you are just being honest.

"Fuck! Okay." He is panting and excited. Then he pulls out his phone from his pocket and started typing so fast

"What are you doing?" You ask as you try to fix your hair and clothes.

"Just letting them know... to not go home for a bit."

"Wooyoung!" You hit his arm.

"What? It's better for them to know than to be surprised to hear us having sex..."

You are so red now. He's so straightforward. But he's right.

"And I don't want then to hear my beautiful girlfriend moan my name as I fuck her brains out..." he tease, smirking.

"Whatever." You roll your eyes

****

As soon as you two got into their dorm, to his room, the first thing Wooyoung did is grab his camera and set it up by his bed so its easy for him to grab it and takes videos or photos of you at moments he wants too.

"I'm excited to do this... but I'm also horny as fuck." He says as you on the other hand begins to undress all the extra clothes you have on covering the laced two piece of sexy undergarment he gifted you last christmas.

"I'm guessing you bought me a cup smaller on purpose..." you say as you lay your hoodie on a chair. "Coz my tits are bulging out of this thing."

"Of course..." he grins as he goes towards you. "I love it when they are squished together..." he lowers his face and nuzzles his nose on your chest. "The most beautiful tits in the world..."

Then he begins to lick your skin like a cat until his tongue reaches your perky nipples. He does not need to search for it. Besides that its hard and pointy, your bra is basically see through.

"Uugghhhh... Wooyoung..." you throw your head as his tongue tickles you. "Ahh.... feels so good..."

"You're so delicious..." he bites your nipple playfully getting a loud moan out of you.

Carefully, he guides you to his bed. Positioning you to the perfect spot where his camera can get to see your whole body.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" He asks again.

All through out the drive home, he already kept asking you if you are sure. He didn't want to force you to do this. He knows he wants this because he wants to have something to watch when they are on tour, something to help him when he needs to jerk off.

He needs your moan, your breathing and your body to satisfy himself.

You are his only muse. His only heaven.

"I only mentioned this once with you... and if you really don't want too it's f--"

You stop him from talking by pulling him down by his collar, and kiss him hard. Sucking his lower lip and make his body shake and his dick rock solid harder than its already are.

"Just fuck me... film me... whatever you want... you have my consent..." you kiss the corner of his lips. "I love you... I will do this for you." You add

From an outsiders perspective, you two looked like you are filming a some kind of porn shit but its more than that.

Wooyoung is capturing his favorite moments during your love making. The way your eyes glistens when you are about to peak, the way your cheeks turn pink, your lip bites and the way you moan his name every time he makes you feel good. He want to see and hear all that whenever he is away.

"Fuck! You're so hot baby!" He says as he films how your breast bounce at every pounce. "Shit!" Wooyoung then puts his camera down on the bedside table. "I need to focus on you now..." he mumbles. "I love you..." he goes down to kiss you as he moves his hips closer to make his dick go deeper

"I love you..." you answer. "So much!"

You wrap your legs around his waist and you felt your inside clench more.

"Aaah... Wooyoung... Woo.....aaaah..." he sucks your breast as he continue thrusting.

"I'm close...." he mumbles

The two of you explodes as you reach both climaxes.

Catching your breathe as your boyfriend falls down on top of you, eyes closed and one hand on your tits.

"I don't think my camera... or any camera can capture how fucking amazing you are." He says.

"You complement me so much..." you say, stroking his hair. "I just learn how to have sex with you... I'm not that experience..."

He raise his head to look at you. "And so...? You are still perfect for me..."

You blush at how serious his face is. Wooyoung is blunt yes. But that does not mean he can't say the sweetest words.

He really gives you reassurance, hypes you up and showers you with love whenever he can.

"Hmm.. so... when will you stop the recording...?" You glance at his camera who's directly focused on him and your tits.

The LCD of the camera is switched so you both can see what is being recorded.

"You want to stop now?"

"I think so...just finished sex..."

"Finished?" His eyes slowly smiles and then he playfully licks your nipple. "Are you sure?"

You giggle at how naughty he is. "Hmm.... no..." then you scrunch your face. "Maybe... let's film a part two...?"

"Really?" He looks excited.

"Yeah... but... maybe..... I'll be on top this time."

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

What is Simon 'Ghost' Riley actually like in a relationship (according to me)

A/N: I know this isn't anything like the things I usually write fics about but if I don't get this out of my system, I will spontaneously combust into flames from thought overload. There is a lot of great fics about him out there, 100%, but there is a steamy pile of garbage as well which makes Simon "an abusive asshole" to quote a TikTok I recently saw - and I couldn't agree more. So, here is my soft take on this tough guy and I hope you can enjoy reading this despite it being pretty far away from everything else on this blog.

Warnings: mentions of torture, violence, weapons, PTSD, profanity, explicit sexual themes but also so much fluff and softness

A/N pt. 2: I base this on Ghost's backstory according to the comic books as well as the video games but this is just my take so if you imagined him differently, that is totally valid!

* * *

Firstly and most importantly, Simon is a very different in his private life compared to his work; meaning he is good at separating the violent side of his work life from the life he has with you.

He must be the softest, the most gentle person there is when he is with you. I think he is very shy in the beginning as well as in early relationship given how his father treated him growing up. It is not that Simon wouldn't trust you, it's more that he would not trust himself. After all, after the Manuel Roba operation, he was tortured for months and came out with severe anger issues.

However, he was able to resolve this when he re-joined the military and engaged therapy but the scars remained: both mental as well as physical.

The reason why Ghost never takes off his mask is because of the scars Vernon and the lot left on his face (and the rest of his body). They are healed now but whenever he sees them in the mirror, he is reminded of everything he has been through, especially the loss of his family.

After Simon had told you why he keeps his mask on even in private life, at least the bottom part, you would not mind it as much but you would also reassure him that the way you feel about him could never be changed by some scars.

Needless to say, Simon would be very, very protective of you. He has lost everyone he has ever loved and cared about and he would never allow the same happen with you. It must be said though that Simon is not possessive. He above all knows the importance of freedom, especially when it comes to making choices about yourself and your comfort.

Still, Simon would face some control issues when you'd go out on your own. At work, he is used to being in charge of everybody, making sure everyone is safe and manning their positions. But with you, he needs to remind himself you are not going to war but just out with your friends, out grocery shopping, out to the library or somewhere. The thought of losing you drives him insane. He could never forgive himself if it happened when he could be by your side instead.

It goes without saying though that Simon prefers the comfort of his home to just about any other place. Clubs give him anxiety and the loud music triggers his PTSD, bars and restaurants are okay here and there but there is no place like home.

He does enjoy hiking and walking with you though.

Simon is romantic by heart so picnics in the nature would be his go-to dates. A bottle of wine, cheese and olives, a blanket in a spot with a view... You'd trace his features gently with the tip of your finger; the curve of his nose, his lips where he'd take your hand in his and kissed it softly as you would lay together in a secluded spot somewhere.

Bonus: when you decide to go home, Simon would never let you help carry any of the things he'd brought. Maybe the blanket but everything else, he'd pile up in his massive arms and carry them all the way home while barely seeing over the heap.

When it comes to sex, Simon would be just as reserved as with taking off his mask in the beginning. He would need much assurance from you that you really wanted to be with him intimately before trying anything.

Contrary to popular belief, Simon would never do anything that could even remotely hurt you when you had sex (or otherwise). On the one hand, he is well aware of his size and strength, and on the other, it is his childhood trauma that keeps him from trying anything that could potentially hurt you (even choking, spanking, etc. is not something he is comfortable with) even if you'd ask him to experiment.

Simon has seen, felt and inflicted too much violence in his life to have it included in his love life as well. All he wants to do is make you feel safe and loved especially when you have sex because this is one of the ways he expresses his love to you.

His sex drive is not that high but when you do have sex, he likes to make it special and intimate. Simon is very serious about it and wants you to enjoy yourself more than anything. To be honest, just seeing you climax causes him do the same.

He enjoys going down on your very much; the intimacy, the softness of your moans, his arms locked around your thighs when his fingers are not intertwined with yours.

Simon's favourite part though is the aftercare. He loves cuddling with you. Physical touch is yet another of his love languages although he was very reserved in the beginning of the relationship.

He is the big spoon the majority of time but sometimes (his favourite) Simon lays his head on your chest, wraps his arms around your waist and lets you play with his hair. He can fall asleep almost instantly.

It cannot be stressed enough that Simon never ever EVER raises his voice at you. Even when you are having an argument (which is not often), he never yells much less gets violent in any way.

He is a great listener and despite not saying much a lot of the time, Simon communicates well although he struggles very much to word his feelings.

After an argument or just for no particular occasion at all, Simon gets you flowers (a lot) - and different kinds every time. Another way for Simon to apologize is to cook for you. He is not very good at it but it is the effort that counts.

When he is away on a mission, Simon calls you a lot just to hear your voice, especially when he is too stressed to fall asleep. Your voice calms him down and help him get some rest but also reassures him you are alright whilst he is not there to keep you safe.

Simon likes to listen about your day, your feelings and your ideas. It keeps his mind far away from dark places. But every now and again, he would trust you with a fragment of his memories when his thoughts are just too loud. You know how precious and how rare it is that Simon opens up to you.

You don't say anything when he talks about his memories and his family but you always hold his hand, brushing your thumb across his calloused knuckles or drawing gentle shapes against his broad back.

You pepper his skin with soft kisses when his voice quietens and lead his head to rest against your chest as you pet his hair.

He likes to listen to you sing too, even if your voice is not the greatest. Even just humming a random melody and feeling your chest vibrate softly beneath his cheek will ease his heart.

Random bonus: Simon drinks English breakfast, no cream and one cube of sugar and has an occasional cigarette with it (Marlboro).

[matchingbatbites]

drag me under

Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge prompt charm.

Word count: 548 | Rating: T | CW: creature!Eddie, possessive behavior, compulsion, ambiguous ending

I have written absolutely nothing in like. A solid two weeks. And then @sentient-trash mentions swamp monster Eddie, which makes me think of lake creature Eddie, and somewhere around working I actually managed to write something. So, thanks Simon. <3

Eddie's beloved is perfect. 

The human has been coming to the lakeside for years, and Eddie's been watching him for just as long, has seen how the sunsets make his skin glow and marveled at the way the moonshine turns his hair to strands of starlight. He's witnessed innumerable smiles and lilting words, none ever aimed at Eddie himself, and yet the boy charmed him regardless, he wrapped the creature around his finger simply by existing.

He brings with him waifish, ungrateful girls, ones who don't appreciate Eddie's beloved the way he does. It pleases him to see that they rarely repeat more than once or twice; each time his sweetheart returns he seems to have a new one with him, yet none who hold any true affection for him, who use him for their own gain before moving on.

There's a long stretch of time where it's the same girl, over and over, his darling always looking at her like she's something special. It makes jealousy curl in his stomach, bright and acidic; makes him want to pull the wretch into his lake, to drag her down so she'll never see the light of day again.

So Eddie's love understands exactly who he belongs to.

One night, unexpectedly, Eddie's beloved arrives alone. 

He shows up with his pretty face bruised and bloodied, and Eddie is instantly worried, finds himself swimming closer to the edge of the water, needing to assure himself that his sweetheart is okay.

The moonlight reflecting from the surface makes his darling look otherworldly, like he's something closer to Eddie's kind than the human he actually is. The desire to be nearer to him swells and crests, and Eddie needs him closer.

He starts with a hum, something gentle that floats over the top of the water and finds its way to the boy. Beautiful, warm eyes turn to find the source, and Eddie sings louder, the soft melody becoming words, and he can see the way his shoulders tense before they drop, slowing relaxing as he hears Eddie's call. 

The human walks over, the expression on his face dream-like as he steps into the water, as he wades in until he's submerged up to his chest. Only then does Eddie move closer. 

The world shakes as the creature touches him for the first time, as he cradles that beautiful, broken face in his hands.

"Oh you sweet, pretty thing. Who hurt you, darling?"

It takes the boy a moment to process, he blinks like he's fighting sleep and mutters "Billy. Was protecting the kids, needed to keep them safe."

So selfless is Eddie's beloved, the protector, the caretaker. 

He's going to get himself killed, and the creature can't stand for that.

"I'm sure you did well, sweetheart, but it's time to rest now, yeah?"

He blinks, confused. "Rest?"

"Yes, darling." 

Eddie leans in and presses their mouths together like he's watched the boy do dozens of times, and suddenly understands why the humans enjoy it, the tender intimacy of it. His darling looks dazed when Eddie pulls away, and doesn't fight when his hands are taken in two chilly, clawed ones. He follows dutifully as Eddie begins to step back, guiding them deeper into the water. 

"Just let me take care of you."

[fanaticsnail]

Writing the Childhood Friends Doffy x Reader gave me an idea for a Rosinante x Reader fic. For now it's just an idea.

Reader is a pirate captain in North Blue, and does meet Rosinante when he is in the marines. Know how every pirate has their marine that chases them? Rosinante is Reader's. She adores him. He's adorable. Reader always teases him and flirts with him across the megaphone snail as his ship chases her crew's. Reader's pirate crew can be Devil Fruit hunters which then means eventually they will be in partnership/contact/do business with Donquixote Pirates.

So imagine your surprise when you're having a meeting with Doflamingo to deliver him a fruit and there is a new officer around - his right hand, at that - and Doflamingo introduces him as his mute (he isn't mute) younger brother and you are trying not to bust a gut laughing then and there because Commander Rosinante is wearing lipstick and a beanie and a shirt with pink hearts and looks ridiculous but also adorable and so handsome in a ruffian way. Hello, Pirate Rosinante 😍

Also, they're brothers?? Damn, talk about good genes.

Then Rosinante catches you somewhere (closet, bathroom, etc) and you are just giggling your absolute soul out because he's ADORABLE. You aren't even thinking of telling Doflamingo, you think it's the greatest sibling prank of the CENTURY (I mean, isn't it?) but of course you take the chance and tell Rosinante the price for your silence is a kiss. If he hesitates, you add a taunt about "Well, your older brother sure didn't mind kissing me -" and Jealous Donquixote Genes activate within Rosinante and he makes out with you and leaves you breathless. Who knows whether Doflamingo kissing you is truth or not. Rosinante can never know, since you're a pirate.

Also, you can bet Reader will arrive too late to save Rosinante, and you hold him and tell him he did his best, and that you love him 😭He doesn't die alone in the snow or cold, he dies in the warm embrace of someone who loves him, assured Law is free and safe. If only he hadn't been such a klutz, maybe you two could have gotten a chance...

...

Doflamingo better RUN.

I think we can make it one-sided love from Doflamingo for Reader in this fic, he has lost any chance he might have had. And you will remind him of that for the rest of his life, even when he is king and begging you to be his queen...

Usually, people when they look at Rosinante were reminded of Doflamingo, but you are reminded of Rosinante by looking at Doflamingo. Uuuuh, gut punch. Especially if you say that to Doflamingo (furious typing)

You love the Prince of Dressrosa, not the King of Dressrosa.

Since.. since Rosi would be Prince of Dressrosa if he had made it all the way to Doflamingo taking over Dressrosa...

It hurts 😭

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

(it hurt my Doffy loving heart to write Reader not loving Doffy 😭😭)

- Yandere Doffy Anon

OH MY GOSH I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! Where do you get these amazing ideas from??! I can't even!!! I need a marine x Rosinante story so bad. Even better if they're captured by Doflamingo and Rosinante has to bargain with him to free you without giving himself up 💀. I just can't.

Thank you for blessing me again, yandere Doffy Anon 🥹🥹👌

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hi, mind if I ask for a Hank McCoy fanfic where the reader has a panic attack and Hank comforts them?

The air in the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning was crisp and calm, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you. You’d been trying to concentrate, trying to focus on anything but the relentless anxiety gnawing at your insides. But your mutation had other plans.

You hadn’t even fully grasped what your abilities were, let alone how to control them. All you knew was that things around you had started changing—objects would flicker in and out of existence, your body would feel weightless one moment and unbearably heavy the next, and sometimes, when you got too upset, you could feel reality itself warping around you.

Today was one of those days.

You’d been in the library, trying to study, trying to find something in the endless books that might give you a clue about what you were, about how to control this thing inside you. But the words had blurred together, the sentences twisting and turning until they made no sense. It felt like the world was closing in on you, the air growing thick, making it hard to breathe.

You didn’t notice your hands trembling until a book fell from the shelf on its own. Or at least, it seemed that way. The world seemed to shimmer, and the room felt like it was spinning, the walls closing in around you.

Your breath hitched, and you stumbled back, your heart racing in your chest. You tried to focus, to ground yourself, but the panic was too much. Your mutation flared up, and suddenly, you weren’t sure if you were even still in the library. The room around you was distorted, colors bleeding into each other, the familiar space becoming unrecognizable.

“I—I can’t—” you gasped, clutching your chest, trying to pull in a breath that just wouldn’t come.

“Easy now, you’re okay,” came a deep, calming voice from somewhere in the chaos.

You blinked through the haze, and there he was—Hank McCoy, standing in front of you, his large, gentle hands raised in a gesture of peace. His blue fur was a comforting sight, a beacon of stability in the swirling mess of your mind.

“Hank—” you tried to say, but your voice broke, tears welling in your eyes as the panic threatened to overtake you.

He took a careful step forward, moving slowly, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos you felt inside. “You’re safe. You’re right here with me. Just focus on my voice.”

You nodded, trying to do as he said, clinging to the sound of his voice like a lifeline. He took another step closer, his blue eyes filled with concern and empathy.

“Take a deep breath,” he instructed softly. “In…and out.”

You tried to follow his lead, inhaling shakily, but it felt like the air was too thick, like it was sticking in your throat. Hank must have noticed, because he stepped even closer, his large, furred hands gently cupping your shoulders.

“Focus on me,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “You’re not alone in this. I’m right here.”

You could feel the warmth of his touch through your panic, and it was like an anchor, grounding you in reality. You focused on the sensation, on the sound of his voice, and slowly, the chaos around you began to recede.

“That’s it,” Hank murmured as he guided you to sit down on a nearby chair. “Just breathe. Everything else can wait.”

You followed his instructions, each breath becoming a little easier, the world slowly coming back into focus. The colors returned to normal, the walls stopped closing in, and you realized that you were, in fact, still in the library, Hank’s steady presence beside you.

“I—I’m sorry,” you whispered once you could finally speak again, your voice still trembling. “I just—everything got so overwhelming.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Hank assured you, his hands still resting on your shoulders, grounding you. “You’re going through a lot, and it’s perfectly normal to feel overwhelmed. These abilities…they take time to understand, to control.”

You nodded, tears still clinging to your lashes. “I don’t even know what’s happening to me. It feels like everything is falling apart.”

Hank’s expression softened even further, his thumbs gently brushing over your shoulders. “It may feel like that now, but I promise you, it’s not. You’re not falling apart. You’re just discovering a new part of yourself, and that can be scary.”

“How do you handle it?” you asked, your voice small, almost childlike. “The fear, the uncertainty?”

Hank smiled gently, a hint of sadness in his eyes. “It’s not always easy, but I’ve found that surrounding yourself with people who care about you, who understand what you’re going through, makes all the difference. You’re not alone in this, and you don’t have to go through it alone.”

You looked up at him, his words sinking in, and felt a tiny spark of hope. It was still frightening, the uncertainty of what you were becoming, but knowing that Hank and the others were there, that they wouldn’t let you go through it alone…that made it a little less terrifying.

“Thank you,” you whispered, the words carrying a weight of gratitude that you couldn’t fully express.

Hank squeezed your shoulders gently before letting his hands fall away, though he stayed close, his presence still comforting. “Anytime. And if you ever feel like this again, you come find me, alright?”

You nodded, feeling a little more grounded, a little more in control. “I will.”

As you sat there, the panic slowly fading, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you could get through this.

[celestoria]

In Your Arms Tonight

Summary: Dan Heng keeps on getting nightmares so you decided that he should sleep in your room for a couple days. After another episode, he thought it was best to help him get his mind off it~

Pairing: Dan Heng x fem!reader

Tags: bottom!Dan Heng, nightmares, reader is a service top, clothed, overstimulation, handjob, penetration, dumbification, creampie, ig this is like comforting him so like a bit of fluff here and there

Word Count: 1.4k

A/n: Dedicated to a close friend, @scarlettjskipper. This took a while to make but i hope you enjoy!

Do not interact if you are 16 or below (17+)

A terrible nightmare is no stranger to the man who resides by the archives of the Astral Express. Every so often you’d find him strolling down the hallway of the train during late hours, trying to take his mind off the reoccurring horrors that haunt him.

Out of worry, you decided to let him sleep in your room for a couple of nights until he feels better.

Dan Heng felt more assured with you by his side, curled up under the same sheets and his head resting on your chest where he could listen to your peaceful heartbeat as he drifted to sleep. If only he could take you to his dreams too, then maybe he wouldn’t pray for more dreamless nights.

But alas, it seems the aeons had not heard his pleas when he thought he was safe in your grasp.

You awoke to his head lightly shifting on your breast paired with mumbled words you can’t seem to decipher. “Dan Heng, wake up,” you said as you tried to shake him awake. “Dan Heng!”

The man’s eyes shot wide open and gasped for air by the time he rose. Cold sweat covered him and the darkness felt disorienting. If it wasn’t for your voice trying to comfort him the moment he woke up, it would take longer for him to calm down.

Dan Heng groaned and rubbed his temples. For him, this is starting to feel like an endless hunt where he was the prey and the predator was hiding somewhere he cannot see. The last thing he wanted to do now was go back to sleep.

Anxiety and concern rushed through you as he faced this dilemma. You tried to imagine how it felt that even during sleep, you were still not at peace. All you can think of is that it must be difficult to go through something as tough as that.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Probably fetch you some water or….” you said, trying to provide him a bit of solace.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. However, I do need something to get my mind off it right now,” he replied. “How about we lay down for a while,” he requested.

You agreed and laid back down on your bed, with your limbs wrapped around the man to cuddle him. Your lips pressed on his forehead as you combed through his hair and his face buried in between the low cut of your nightwear. Your warmth was a haven for him but it seems that the memories of the dream still lingered in his mind.

He wanted something more.

Your eyes locked for a second when he called out your name before his lips met yours. His fingers snaked up from the back of your head to push you closer to him. Taken aback by his abrupt actions, you slowly pulled away.

He looked down, unable to face you with such an absurd request. “I am aware I might be asking too much of you tonight, but-“

“It’s alright. I understand,” you cut him off short to spare him from his bashfulness. “But are you sure you don’t mind?”

He nodded. “I promise it will make me feel better.” Dan Heng found himself to be a fortunate person to have you by his side. Someone so understanding and caring whenever these sorts of things happen to him. Deep down he is thanking his lucky stars for helping both of you cross paths that fateful day.

Without another word, you mindlessly perched yourself on Dan Heng’s lap as your mouth sucked on the side of his neck, causing a silent gasp to leave him. One hand held onto his bicep, while the other made its way under his pants and teased his tip slowly starting to coat itself with precum. Your thumb swirled on its smooth surface before you began pumping him, making it harder than it was earlier.

Dan Heng shuddered. The cloth of your nightgown tightened around your waist as he clasped its fabric and you sensed a pang of pain when his teeth bit down on your shoulders to muffle out any loud noise coming from him. Indulgent mewls and sinful moans crawled to your ears the more you teased him.

“Don’t stop,” Dan Heng begged. His hips struggled to stay in place and his teeth dug deeper into your skin. Heat flushed his body as his abdomen felt like it was getting coiled with a spring.

Soon after, strings of white liquid squirted out of his dick and coated the gaps of your fingers. You brought your hand to your mouth and slowly licked the cum off. “Do you feel any better now,” you asked with sympathy oozing out of your lips.

“I still want more,” he pleaded with a huff, clearly trying to recover after being pushed off the edge like that. “Please.”

Unable to dismiss his request, you hiked up the skirt of your negligee and inserted a small portion of his cock deep in you while the lining of your panty pushed itself aside to make way. As you sank on him, cool hands made their way under his shirt and grazed his skin, leading him to shiver.

Your walls wrapped around him and your slick pooling underneath you the more your pussy frantically bounced on his cock, causing the bed frame to loudly creaked.

His hot breath tickled your collarbone as his face pressed itself on the crook of your neck, hiding the pink flush growing brighter on his cheeks. Dan Heng's mind was already in a haze, unable to think other than how your name feels when it escapes his mouth. It’s as if your touch and intimacy brought him more tranquillity compared to the times he’d spend his nights alone on his bed where he knew he'd wake up with shock and fear making his heart race.

Your movements started to get a little sloppy by the time you were pumping him balls deep in you.“Dan Heng,” you moaned. Even if you were the one in control tonight, you can’t help but debaucherously cry out his name, especially when his cock never misses your G-spot with the angle it’s curved.

However, you tried to get a hold of yourself in case anyone would walk by your room and realize what the both of you are up to right now. A part of you worried about that scenario turning into reality but the other side didn’t care when you were so close to experiencing such an earth-shattering high.

Your back arched and Dan Heng’s body quaked as if both of you were seeing stars. White painted the walls of your cunt while his dick was still inside you twitching.

You knew he’s been holding it in with how his body squirmed under you and his whimpers became uncontrollably louder. His tired body trembled and leaned on you for support. For a moment he was refusing to let you go out of his grasp. Sadly, you gently slid off his arms that clung to you and reached out for the box of tissues in the drawer of your side table.

You wiped off his dick, still sensitive after an intense night, and Dan Heng jerked. “Are you all right,” you asked off the bat while you crawled back to your side of the bed and saw him leaning on the bed frame.

He nodded slowly, his body leaning on the headboard and his tired eyes fluttering as his lids began to feel heavy. It seems he won’t be thinking about the dream until it’s time for everyone to walk up again. You helped Dan Heng rest his head on the pillow and pulled the blanket to keep him warm. For the first time in days, he was sleeping soundly again without staring at the ceiling for hours on end.

After sweeping his bangs off his forehead to get a better look at him, your lips pecked the side of his mouth and smiled at him as you whispered.

“Sweet dreams, my love.”

[korpuskat]

Core Voltage [Ramattra/Reader]

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader Rating: Explicit WC: 3,750 Warnings: technically mild somnophilia & mild dubcon, wireplay

“I need your assistance. It is… a delicate issue.” He says. The hesitance in his voice box immediately piques your interest.  “I am in the process of some upgrades. The housing for my power unit is failing and needs to be replaced.”

“Upgrading yourself sounds pretty normal, Ramattra.” You shrug. “Why would you need my help?”

“The power unit itself must be disconnected before the housing can be replaced.” He says flatly. You stare at him, not quite understanding yet. His shoulders drop and he rephrases: “I must be offline to replace the housing.”

“Oh.”

Ramattra lifts himself onto the worktable, gestures for you to come closer. All around the room, he’s surrounded by a variety of tools and screens. You won’t need these he had assured you. You hope he’s right.

“All you will have to do is remove my power unit, remove the original housing, place the new housing, return the power unit, and restart me.” He says it like it’s nothing, not even giving you his full attention- his hands are at his rib-like adornments. You don’t even know what he’s doing- until the seals release and the front of his body opens before you. Warm air rushes out freely, usually confined to exiting through the vents on his back.

Inside, his machinery is whirring, fans spinning rapidly, wires of all colors wrapped around his chassis, leading in and out of various computational squares you can’t identify on sight. Almost all components were never produced or designed by human hands.

“Here.” He says, and points to a silver cylinder in the upper part of his chest. It’s surrounded by a black metal box- that may once have had a front lid from the hinge on the top. It doesn’t now, of course- and you inch ever closer to see the remnants of broken, aging solder. You swallow, “Is it already loose enough to come off?”

“It’s only held on by the wires that pass through it.”

You cringe and look again. Sure enough, the rainbow of wires are threaded right through tiny holes at the base of the box, leading into the bottom of the power unit.

“Once I shut myself down- and wait for me to be completely offline- rotate the power unit clockwise, then place it somewhere safe.” Left unspoken is the I cannot boot without it, or the ever worse There are very few R-7000 power units left in the world. “Then remove the wires from the power unit base. All you need to do is re-thread the wires into the new housing and plug them in. I can finish the attachment when I have rebooted.”

“How will you know when to power on? Do I have to reboot you?”

Ramattra nods once, the ribbon cables on his head and dysfunctional housing swaying with the movement. This time he reaches up to his face- and his face plate comes right off. He continues motioning, pointing somewhere under his optics. His exposed optics. You can’t really hear what he’s saying.

They actually look like eyes, even the servos’ casing attached had once been painted red. You can’t help but stare- watching as they spin and twitch, focusing. Or- or the rest of his face, for that matter; the LEDs of his forehead exposed, the glow much more diffused without the face plate’s  pinpoint openings- two wires running along the surface of his not-skull like veins.

He stopped talking at some point. There’s something uncomfortable in the room. As much as your fascination has made you stare, something darker is settling in Ramattra’s shoulders.

It’s somehow worse that he doesn’t emote without the faceplate. With it, at least it’s obvious there’s no moving parts exposed that he could emote with-- no eyes to meet your gaze. Now, he should be able to have eyebrows, to squint at you, to scowl.

His voice is slightly clearer. “I apologize, I forgot you had not seen this.” The words are polite, but his tone is curt, short and sharp. He’s offended.

“Sorry,” You say and step closer. “I’m sorry.” You reach out to him and touch something familiar; his knee, then one hand. He lets you, but does not reciprocate when you squeeze. “You’re right, I hadn’t seen this before. It’s…”

“Unnerving? Threatening?” He spits. Is that what he thinks? That without his faceplate you can only see him as a Ravager?

You scowl at him. He should know you better. “If I took off my skin, showed you my organs, and said ‘hey come take this one out’, you’d be pretty unnerved too.” You step closer, fully between his dangling legs now.

“That’s hardly the same thing.” He counters, but the bite is already gone from his voice.

You reach up, almost having to stretch to touch the side of his face. You’re careful, only caressing his jaw, nothing that’s been revealed to you- just in case. “Promise it’s easy?” You hesitate, “That you’ll come back?”

“I promise.”

With nothing else to say, Ramattra leans back on the table, seems to hesitate on his elbows, before sighing and laying down entirely. His eyes don’t close, he doesn’t adjust to get comfortable, his version of falling asleep is nothing so human. The LEDs that adorn his body turn off first, then slowly the fans and soft hums of machinery quiet down until all that’s left is your own breathing.

Still, you give it a moment. Completely offline is what he had said,  if there’s any data that hasn’t yet been cleared, you don’t want to know what happens if it doesn’t disperse on its own.

“Ramattra?” You ask quietly.

The silvery shell before you doesn’t answer. It’s as good a cue as any.

It occurs to you immediately that working on him from the side of the table is completely out of the question. It’s much too awkward an angle to reach up and over his sides and then down into… well, into him. So you crawl up onto the table itself and situate yourself across his lap. If you weren’t actively performing omnic heart surgery, you’d let your mind wander on the more enjoyable possibilities of your thighs bracketing his waspish waist.

Instead, you swallow and reach into the cavity of his chest. The power source is easily removed- only a half-turn to the right and something clicks, disconnecting it from the base. You set it carefully, oh so carefully, on the table near his shoulder. Here, it was a little trickier- only because you had to disconnect each wire individually. At least the brackets that held the wires in place a few inches out from the housing box made it easy to know where each wire would be plugged in again. Tediously, you got to work.

Finally, with the multicolored wires standing free, you grasp the housing box itself. It breaks off, leaving a dusting of solder as you take it. “Fuck,” you mutter. The pieces are too fine for you to pick up; you just have to hope it’s not going to hurt him.

You place the new box where the old one was and work in reverse- threading each wire in through the pre-drilled holes and then plugging them into the silver circular base. It’s repetitive, boring work, but you can’t let yourself get distracted; you’re almost done. When they’re all woven through, each and every color lined up distinctly with its correct port, you pick up the cylinder again. It’s a curiosity you’d never really wanted to investigate before- but as it is, the power source reveals nothing to you. You slot it into the place, exhale slowly, and rotate it counter-clockwise until it again clicks and locks.

You swallow thickly. Well, it’s done… one way or the other. You reach up to his face- and oh, it’s still so strange seeing beneath the faceplate. The aperture of his optics is relaxed, entirely open, staring sightlessly up at the ceiling with a flat, black gaze. You touch the structure that would be his cheek and shudder with the intimacy of it. None of this was meant to be touched by human hands, but here you were. Mimicking the motion Ramattra had shown you, you found the input just inside his skull.

Immediately his body begins thrumming with electricity- and you sigh with relief. At least you got that part right. The LEDs along his body light up automatically, smaller lights along his inner cavity glow white, Something inside him begins humming. You sit back into his lap again, watching the small changes of how his platform boots up.

You should get off him- it’ll be a minute before he’s truly conscious. You know this.

Instead, you touch the edge of the opening, along the ridge where the front of his chestplate will join together. The air inside him is already beginning to warm, but his fans have a leisurely pace- cooling fresh air is taken in by his entire front opening, keeping his system well below thresholds. It’s captivating- so much of the process you can’t actually see, contained within CPUs and GPUs and the hundreds of little wires that run through his entire body. But you’re watching him wake up, staring down at him while he’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him.

You dip your thumb around the ridge this time, gently tracing a red-white-green bundle of cables that twist from one little chip down the inside of his chest.

He’d never talked about it. No, you had heard from another omnic. One of his lieutenants, but you’d never tell Ramattra that. Most omnics were not originally built with… well, any means of direct, raw pleasure. Some chose to get that hardware upgrade later, but for the rest there was usually a workaround. It hadn’t particularly appealed to you before.

“We could try that for now,” You had suggested once, before he’d designed his own upgrade. Just an idea, so you could do something for him. Ramattra had scoffed at the idea, made some dismissive comment. You never knew if it was because he was truly uninterested or if he simply didn’t trust you that much yet.

It’s different, somehow, actually staring into the thrumming heart of him. The temptation of finding out which wires are which, of making a little catalog in your mind- each color getting a little flag for how much they make his synth glitch, if they make his optics go snowy, which ones would make him tip his head back and sigh. You shouldn’t, but you rock against the curved plating of his pelvis, sate yourself with a chaste touch along the inside of his casing again.

It’s the whirring of the apertures you hear first. Looking up confirms it: without yet raising his head, his optics have shifted downward, focusing on you. The haze clears from your mind, replaced by shame.

“Really?” He says, exasperated. “You’re insatiable.” Your cheeks burn, immediately you drop your head and begin to scoot off him. His hands are at your hips before you can even lift a leg. Instead he’s pulling you closer, pulling you down against him, igniting more of that quiet friction you were aching for.

Normally, you’d brace your hands on his chest, but as it is your awkward grasp around his ribs gives you too little leverage. Ramattra must realize this too, holding your still-grinding hips in place as he sits up. It doesn’t, however, help that him sitting means you’re still face-to-chest with the same wires that had taunted you into this situation. It takes all your will power to wrap your hands around his neck, instead.

“What is your obsession with this?” He doesn’t let go of your hips, keeping you in place- a quiet sign he expects an actual answer from you.

“I’m not obsessed.” You whine, and, well, it was true. It hadn’t even crossed your mind again since you’d first mentioned it. “I never get to see you like this; you looked so… vulnerable. It’s all foreign and new.”

Ramattra draws back a little, creates a breath of space between your bodies. Between it and his locked grip on your hips, you wilt and prepare to concede your whim. It’s fine, really, so long Ramattra will at least fuck you properly- sooner rather than later. But instead he stares down at you- which is actually somehow worse than his open displeasure. It makes the skin at the base of your neck prickle, your fingers slide cautiously over his broad shoulders.

And at long last- Ramattra sighs. You brace for the lecture, the sour explanation of how dangerous it is (you know), that you have no idea what you’re doing (you know), that he’s never- “Go on then,” He says- and leans back, bracing himself on his hands.

You blink up at his unarmored face- his revealed optics making it all seem so much more personal. Really? With trembling hands you skirt down from his shoulders, over his sides, fingertips catching on each rib, but not delving into the dark gaps between. “You’re sure?”

“I can’t say I haven’t been… tempted.” His voice drops, low and cautious. “It has been… some time since I last indulged that particular whim.”

You can’t help but grin and embrace the flood of warmth that follows his confession. “You’ve done this before?” You ask, aware of the thin ice you’re treading on. In exchange you let one hand dip inside him and slide along the black protective box you just installed. His head drops, optics following your wrist into his own chest. Can he feel this yet- can he feel that at all? you wonder.

“A few times.” Ramattra all but murmurs. You trace your index finger along a thick, black-rubber coated cable that winds down to his hips. A simulated inhale is your reward. “You can be firmer with the bundles.” He advises, then adds, “Lots of insulation.”

The specifics of just how this worked had never actually come up, leaving you with a general idea and an abundance of curiosity. Immediately you follow his recommendation- taking the cables entirely in hand and squeezing. It’s hardly enough to bend the heavy coating- and yet Ramatra’s fingers curl around the sides of the worktable, his head drops back, the ribbon cables of his mane falling off his shoulders. The ends of each clatter together loudly, but not loud enough to cover the half-muted buzzing that slips from Ramattra’s vocoder.

Your hips move against him of their own volition- and that leads to an actual growl from him. This time, your fingertips dance over a webbed array of wires of various colors. Ramattra’s shoulders jerk, an actuator moving on its own momentarily, followed by his ventilation speeding up, fans humming despite the openness of his chest. It’s intoxicating. You single out a bright red cord and gently twist it between your fingers. “Fu-uck.” The aperture of his optics whirs closed and he doesn’t bother trying to keep himself upright, sliding down to be resting on his elbows.

“What is it like?” You ask, but don’t slow your explorations. How could you, when the possibility of his voice box glitching out is so tantalizingly close?

“It’s static.” He says, shuddering as you walk your fingers across a twisted set of blue and white wires. You spot a bright yellow wire that runs straight up into his throat. “White noise in my syst-EMS!” His tone doesn’t actually change to an exclamation- his raw volume blows into a buzzing mess before clicking off and restoring itself. “It’s different th-an just pleasure.”

“So what if I was riding you at the same time?” Devilish, you can’t help yourself but to once again rock down against the outer plating of Ramattra’s lap.

The worktable damn near creaks with how hard Ramattra grabs it, then follows with a deep groan, “Are you trying to crash me?”

You spy a little bundle of wires, bound together as they run along one of the horizontal struts of Ramattra’s back. “Maybe,” your murmur, and find a place where they wind together, then split, some entering deeper into his frame. “Isn’t that the point? Can’t you cum from this?”

You don’t actually give him a chance at all. Which is extremely rewarding when he modulates a scoff, “A roll-ing -ing” His voice box glitches then cuts out entirely. You rub along that junction of wiring, tugging gently one way then the other.

Ramattra goes completely still- and silent as he is you’d almost think you did crash him, if it weren’t for the sudden brightening of his LEDs. It’s… refreshing to see him laid so bare for you. As he partially reloads yet again, you stroke his exposed cheek, swiping a thumb below his optics. After a minute, Ramattra’s synthesized breathing resumes and you prompt him “Rolling?”

“Rolling partial shut down,” He says, almost dreamily. “Different from a human orgasm.”

“Sure.” You’ll let him have it for now, even if the outcomes look identical. “Then is that something I can do for you?”

A long silence ensues- the metaphorical gears in Ramattra’s head must be turning, weighing his options. The longer you’re manipulating his sensitive innermost parts, the higher the chance you hit something bad- and a predictable, replicable, intentionally programmed orgasm from fucking must be wildly safer than whatever random data overload you were wreaking across his systems. And yet, the reward must outweigh the risk because he sighs. “Yes.” He adjusts again, lays himself entirely down and cautiously adjusts his hands to drape over the sides of the table. “Just- keep doing that.”

It’s all the approval you need to grin wildly and dig into him. At the same juncture you pinch the entire bundle of wires and roll them. Immediately Ramattra groans, loud and sustained- his voice box struggles to keep the pitch even. Instead, his back arches towards you- and you’re not even sure if it’s because of how you’re manipulating his wiring. You squeeze tighter, feel the thin rubber insulation flatten under your thumb- and Ramattra’s optics tick upwards, too sharp to be controlled.

His groan lowers into a deep rumbling from his speakers. He’s much too put-together, the only option is to double down. So as you keep thumbing at that bundle of wires, your other hand sinks inside him. For a moment, you just barely touch the same thick, black cable you’d started with- and you can feel the stutter in his ventilation. Then, you give it the exact same treatment. Taking the cable into your hand, you squeeze it, move the pressure across each of your fingers- and with each one Ramattra twitches in a new way- his wrists, neck, knees each giving unbidden jerks as you massage the heavy rubber.

Ramattra’s hands curl into fists, but he doesn’t grab the table. Instead, his head rolls to the side, still making soft noises that may have once been moans before the distortions you’re feeding his systems. It’s still not quite enough- he’s close, if you had to bet. You keep him there- repeating the same motions over and over, just to watch him twitch and writhe. It’s a rare treat and you have every intention of burning the memory into your head before you bring him over the edge.

It’s almost fuzzed out entirely, lost into a crack of his voice: “Do it,”

You almost snicker, of course he can’t entirely give up control, but you can’t say no to him. Your weight comes on to the handful of wires- more on the thick cable than the twisting junction. That alone makes his thighs jerk, his heels scraping on the table. But that’s just a bonus: you lean all the way over him- and first, lay a kiss to the corner of his purple jaw piece, soft and sweet.

And then you move to his throat.

The metal of the actuators there is cold- and tastes of oil as you lick up one length. It’s enough to bring on another staticky moan- all sexual. But when you take another one of his thick black cables- the same ones that run along his neck- into your mouth and tug it away from his head, it’s all over.

A hundred servos all get wrong information at the same time; each joint of his fingers bending a different way- but every single one of them tenses. His head tips back, exposes the same cable to your teeth. And then- it’s like you’d turned off an old radio, his voice dies out with a crackle and then a click. And then silence.

The hum of his electronics, the motors to his fans have all turned off.

You let go of his wiring and sit back. Even the lights on his LEDs have gone dark.

He’s even courteous enough to not let you get anxious about him; before the thought really crosses your mind, he begins to hum once more. It sounds nice- smoother, somehow. The apertures of his optics whir, flexing open and closed as they begin to focus. From this angle, you can just barely make out a red light from within.

Unlike a human, his actuators did not relax as soon as he shut down. Instead, now that he’s conscious again, they each slide down into what must be their default position- simulating relaxation.

You don’t speak, giving him a moment to get his bearings once more. He must appreciate it, because after a few moments, his large hands rest on your hips. They’re just a comforting pressure- and you must know you’ve really made a mess of him because he hasn’t even tried to slide them under your shirt.

“How was that?” You ask anyway.

Ramattra makes a noise- what may have been a scoff. “I have 492 warning messages and 2,304 caution notifications.”

You cringe and stroke your thumbs over the hard ridges of his rib adornments. “Nothing serious?”

The red in his optics seems to flicker- his HUD updating as he navigates the errors. “No, nothing serious.” He says finally- and you can actually relax. He waits a moment, then raises one hand to your low back, dipping into the curve there. “It was… refreshing.”

The praise makes your cheeks flush. “I’m glad.”

His fingers slide along your spine, slowly pulling your shirt up with it. “Now, must I fuck you immediately or may I finish repairing my power unit housing first?”

[irkimatsu]

Your little bit about how Husk would help reader sleep absolutely melted my heart. His voice is like velvety smooth satin. My lonely ass constantly lives vicariously through everyone's Husk pieces.

How do you think reader would comfort Husk after a nightmare?

This request melted my heart! I love taking care of Husk, but he needs some love, too...

Totally SFW, about 800 words. Included lyrics are original and may or may not be a good example of why I barely ever write lyrics... but it just didn't look right when I was vague about it. Please sing to him...

Thank you for reading my work!

“No!  I said NO!”

You’re knocked out of your slumber by a loud, snarling voice, somewhere between rage and panic. It takes you a few moments to register who that voice belongs to, but it quickly dawns on you that there’s only one person it could be.

“Husk…?”

You reach over to turn on the light on your side of the bed, then turn to see Husk laying beside you. His pupils are blown wide, and his ears are pinned back. His fur is standing on end, and his entire body is trembling. His breaths are rapid and harsh, as if he’s struggling to take in oxygen.

“Husk? Are you okay?” You reach out in an attempt to provide a comforting touch.

You weren’t expecting to swipe his claws at you.

“Don’t touch me!” he snarls, and your attempt to dodge his attack sends you tumbling to the floor.

“Please… please leave me alone…”

His voice has shifted suddenly, all rage drained from it. Now, all you can hear is a distant, quiet pain. You pick yourself up off the floor and look at Husk, only to see him taking up much less of the bed than he had earlier. His knees and tail are curled up to his chest, and his wings are doing their best to shield him from sight.

“It won’t happen again… just leave me alone…” His voice is shaking as much as his body. You wonder if you should listen to him… but you also wonder if it’s really you that he’s talking to.

You slowly climb back into the bed, careful not to startle him. You’ve never seen him like this, so small and so frail… you got used to him being one of the strongest members of the hotel, never showing weakness or letting anything get to him too badly. When he was pushed, he was more likely to react with anger, not shut down like this.

Perhaps it’s easier to bottle up your emotions when you’re constantly numbing them with whiskey…

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and you’re still not sure who he thinks he’s speaking with right now. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

“Husk?” you say. “It’s me. There’s no one else here… just me…”

He slightly lifts his wing, enough for you to look into his wide eyes. “You…” he repeats, as if not fully comprehending his surroundings. “Where am I…?”

“You’re in your room at the Hazbin Hotel. It’s just you and me here. No one is going to hurt you… you’re safe here.”

He lifts his wings more, but remains tightly curled up. “The hotel…” he murmurs. “The hotel...”

“Should I leave?" you ask.

“Stay,” he says, terse as if he doesn’t have the energy to say more than that. He reaches out to you, gently resting his paw on the side of your face. “Did I hurt you…?”

“You didn’t,” you assure him as you place your hand over his. “Did you want to talk about…?”

His head is shaking violently before you even finish your sentence, so you’ll leave that topic alone.

“Nightmare,” is all he volunteers. It’s all you need to know. “Could you… hold me?” He’s still curled up, and you’re not sure if he could move if he wanted to.

“Of course.” With his hand still on your cheek, you move closer until you can firmly wrap your arm around him. He remains curled, but he does drape his wing over both of you, a comforting gesture normally reserved for you but that’s probably for his own sake this time. You both lay in silence except for your breathing; his is thankfully beginning to level out. You expect the two of you to shortly drift back to sleep, but his voice cuts through the silence.

“Could you sing for me?”

“What should I sing?” you ask.

“Anything… I just wanna hear you sing.”

You search your memory until you find a song you enjoyed when you were a child. You’re not sure if it’s one Husk knows - it’s from after his time on Earth - but it seems like something he would enjoy, especially now.

“When your stronghold bends in wind and rain,

When the darkness seems too much to bear,

When you see no end to the driving pain,

But you’re always the one to say you’ll be there…

Please rest, my love, take all you need,

It’s been a long night to spend so alone,

I’ll shield your sweet heart, I won’t let you bleed,

Come into my arms, let me be your home…

Please rest, my love…”

You continue singing as he fades into sleep. His body relaxes, although his wing keeps covering you both, and he’s purring softly.

You don’t remember actively stopping your song. You only remember his soft fur nuzzling into your neck as your voice fades away into your own slumber.