#i finally own this figure now yay ^_^

[bincue]

Shibitoro (Siren x Doko Demo Issho)

[potatoattorney]

posting on reddit is so scary for no reason. what if i accidentally break a rule and they kill me

[spockiguess]

I Start My Mornings With Folgers and Hot, Steamy Sex

Summary: Dr. Robby doesn't get to share many mornings with you, so when the day comes that he's finally able to spend just a little bit more time in your embrace, he doesn't pass on the opportunity to make it memorable.

Pairing: Michael "Dr. Robby" Robinavitch x FEM!Reader

Warnings: SOMNOPHILIA, Smut

A/N: HEYWASSUPYOUGUYSYES, I am back from my nearly year long hiatus with something from a fandom I have never posted about before, but that's okay! I'm a dirty liar and a cheat, so I'm sorry for not updating the Laszlo Kreizler series I had in the works. I'm bad at continuity. Anyway, I hope you guys like this one! Yay!

Mornings spent with Michael Robinavitch have always been painfully short, fleeting moments that spill from the gaps between your grasping fingers like rushing sand, so you treasure the times when everything seems to stop for just an hour or two and you can hold each other while the sun begins to rise. This morning is one of those intensely special times.

It’s around four in the morning–only now the sun is still slumbering soundly just beneath the shimmering horizon millions of miles away–when Robby snakes his arms further around your middle and squeezes ever so slightly. You unconsciously moan in response, the deep recesses of your brain faintly aware of the comforting action as you melt deeper into his velvet touch. His nose is pressed against the back of your neck, inhaling your vanilla-sweet scent with every easy breath, while his large, sculptural hands cup the heavy mounds of your breasts, gently kneading. 

The emergency room attending could stay in this protective bubble forever, completely blocking out the frenetic, ever-speeding pace of the world outside as he keeps one of the people he truly cares about anymore locked in his embrace forevermore. The glimmering lights of lampposts and stretching skyscrapers would wipe across his vision in great streaks, like the measured strokes of a master’s paintbrush across a twilight canvas. Robby is content to have that be his future; these rare instances being wholly untainted by the horrors of the known universe and only meant for your shared enjoyment. Then, he could finally find peace.

Unfortunately, that's not quite in the cards for him just yet. Life has its hands wrapped firmly around the deck, dispersing fate indiscriminately. Dr. Robby has this, though. He has just a few hours with you before he’s inevitably pulled into his grueling work and forced to clear its waters for the next twelve hours. Because of this, Michael Robinavitch is eagerly determined to make the best of the time he has with you. Robby figures he'll start this day off on a good, memorable note.

With that, Robby commences with his plan. As an attending who's participated in countless, intense surgeries, he's startlingly deft with his hands. His grip around your breasts tighten, causing the skin to spill over his palms before Robby lightens up and allows the tip of his calloused finger to graze the pebbled surface of your nipple. Robby’s touch is feather-light, for now, he doesn't want to rush through this like a crazed bull released from its pen. 

Ever so slowly, he circles your nipple with his forefinger, tentatively forcing the skin to contract and become a stiff, little peak beneath his hand. Now, Robby’s able to delicately grip the peak with his forefinger and thumb and roll it between the two, slightly squeezing with every other turn. The effects of his work are already taking place as you moan again, unknowingly bucking your plush hips into his, awakening Robby’s cock to full attention. Robby forces back a pleased groan of his own as he feels the soft mounds of your ass tenderly grip his aching dick in a warm hug. You're too tempting, most of the time. 

Robby isn't distracted from his goal, however. No, he just shifts his attention on your breasts to the other hand while another travels down the curved planes of your body, rustling your sleep shirt and shorts. Your stomach is smooth under Robby’s hand, radiating a soothing heat that he could get lost in for hours. On some days, he comes back from work and immediately draws you into bed just so he can rest his weathered face against your tummy. There, he’ll press light kisses and reminisce on how lucky he is to have a partner like you. At this moment, though, Robby is only using your stomach as a roadmap to somewhere far more important. 

Robby’s searching hand stops just above the puckered hem of your elastic, light blue sleep-shorts, curious as ever. As if it had a mind of its own, Robby’s hand begins to toy with the top of your satin shorts, mindlessly playing with the band while his other hand continues to work one of your stiffening nipples. Finally, your brain switches gears and your toasty body moves of its own accord, rocking into Robby’s firm silhouette. 

Robby unashamedly moans, now, his rough throat giving way to breathy gasps as your ass cradles his hard dick in a near-perfect way. He can already feel sticky, hot precum leaking from his tip, no doubt staining the front of his boxer-briefs with a damp puddle. Every sense is electrified, begging for Robby to amp up the sensations tenfold, but he can't let that happen just yet, this is still about you. 

So, Robby’s hand continues its adventure north, down the front of your shorts, and lightly skimming the silky lace of your panties as it reaches the apex of your pubic mound. Robby can feel the intense heat emanating from your core, nearly burning up his hand with its fire. The emergency room doctor can feel his head go dizzy as he fantasizes about how hot you'll be wrapped around his weeping cock. Still, he presses onward. 

With Robby’s hand now firmly seated above your sex, the man whose whole body surrounds you presses warm, wet kisses to your neck as his middle finger inches forward to grab the edge of your panties and pull them off to the side. Now, your sticky cunt lays exposed to the cold air around it, and even in your sleep, you shudder from the chill. Slowly, Robby’s middle and ring finger search through your folds, grabbing the glossy slick that's there, before finding the rosy bud at the top of your cunt. 

Covered in your wetness, Robby uses his fingers to rub slow, tight circles around your now-buzzing clit, delighting in the sounds you're making as his forearm muscles strain from the awkward position. You shift, opening your legs further as your sleepy brain struggles to process the new sensation probing at its walls. 

Even though Robby’s pace is sluggish, he can still hear the quiet, squishy slap of his fingers against your throbbing cunt loud and clear. Robby knows how wet you can get–what exactly can happen if all of your delicate buttons are pushed in the correct way and order, and tonight, he hopes to have you writhing beneath his touch while your sex unleashes tidal waves of arousal on his dick. In the times Robby has managed such a feat in the past, his ego would skyrocket to preposterous levels, allowing him to walk with a certain bravado he isn't keen to most days. Robby figures that he’ll like to start today off like that, even if it'll draw attention from others.

As the good doctor fantasizes about making you squirt, his rugged hand absentmindedly speeds up its pace, pushing against your clit just that much harder. It's not a painful amount of pressure, but just enough to make your entire body buck with pleasure, nearly pulling you out of your unconscious state. 

Too soon, Dr. Robby thinks. With this, he slows to a screeching halt as he can practically feel the electric currents of arousal flowing from your body to his, exciting his cock further. Robby guesses it would be fine to move on from this phase of his plan, even if every molecule buzzing around in his body is telling him otherwise. All of his barbaric senses are screaming for him to make you cum right then and there, to force multiple orgasms from you before you're even awake, but Robby wants this to be a somewhat relaxed morning, all things considered.

So, Dr. Robby stops his ministrations. Instead, he brings his hand to the edge of his mouth and takes in your heady flavor. When Robby is in a situation like this, something nestled deep within him, a primal urge, takes over his mind and he becomes something wholly unlike his usual self. He can't quite explain it, but you're the only person who's ever brought this side of him out, before. Robby isn't necessarily complaining, either. No, he just moans around his fingers before eagerly unearthing himself from the nest he’s built around his body, you included, trying carefully to not wake you just yet. 

As he finally finds himself free, Robby climbs down the length of your now-prone figure and sheaths himself between your silky legs, adjusting once more to allow his arms to come around the bottoms of your thighs so his hands can rest just below your navel. Once there, Robby slides your sleep shorts and underwear to the side, breathing in your sticky scent, all the while. With your cunt now fully exposed to the outside air, Robby can see it glisten in the low light of your shared room, still drooling from before. 

Robby waits a beat, stilling as he watches your resting form rise and fall with each breath that leaves you, and he finds himself utterly in love with the person caught beneath his eager body. Dr. Robby is incredibly lucky to have someone like you.

It’s with that thought that Robby finally delves into your weeping folds with a parted mouth, his tongue zeroing in on your clit the moment he makes contact with your cunt. You and Robby share a wanton moan as you wake up from your sleepy reverie, your hips moving of their own accord while Robby desperately tries to pin them down once again. 

With a hazy fog still trapped in your throat, you call out to the man nestled firmly between your legs, “Mhm, Michael, what are you–what are you doing?” 

Robby hums before pulling away from your sex, slick dripping from his bearded chin, “Starting the day off strong, don’t you think?” Robby’s voice is deep and rich, now, his vocal chords inactive until recently. 

You laugh before choking back a strained moan when Robby reassumes his work, “If this is how we’re starting the day, I can’t wait to see how it ends.” 

Dr. Robby laughs, too, the vibrations ricocheting against your clit and sending shockwaves directly to the base of your spine. You thread your hands into Robby’s thinning hair, pulling ever so slightly when he sucks your clit into his lips and licks. You don’t know it yet, but your orgasm is closer than you can register, especially considering what happened before Robby positioned himself beneath your quivering sex. Your mind is too caught up processing how enthusiastically he’s eating you out, as well as the way Robby’s hips seem to hitch against the mattress with every swirl of his tongue. You don’t even catch when one of his hands slips from the resting point above your pubic bone to travel beneath your legs and station itself just to the side of your parted lips. 

When your mind finally does catch up is exactly the moment Robby begins to ease a finger into your cunt and carefully curl inwards, in a sort of beckoning motion. You groan loudly, impatiently welcoming the intrusion with a strong clench of your legs while Robby presses his free hand into the base of your stomach. 

His tongue, his finger, and his other hand all create this perfect symphony of pleasure that has you shaking beneath Robby’s touch. If you were in your right mind, you might have possibly felt Robby’s smirk against your cunt, but you’re currently preoccupied. 

Still, when Robby introduces another finger, deliciously stretching your wanton hole to a comfortable degree, you can’t help the thrashing your body does, completely overwhelmed with sensations. Before you know it, your orgasm is at the door and knocking to be let in, which you gladly allow. 

A burst of electricity simmers beneath the surface of your skin as your cunt spasms, your hold on Robby’s hair tightening that much more as he continues to lap at you like a starved man. Liquid gushes from your core, absolutely coating the lower-half of Robby’s face, the beginnings of his neck, and his hand while wild slurping noises can be heard just below your shaking body. 

He’s barely letting up, so it’s not long until you’re buzzing from overstimulation and begging your partner to ease off of you. Dr. Robby relents, struggling to hold himself back from tasting even more of you as your orgasm washes past your senses. 

Once the rush of sound filters through your ears, you tug on Robby’s sleep shirt to bring him to eye-level with you. Robby crawls back up your body, arms supporting his weight on either side of your head. 

“So, how was that?” Robby asks, a wide smile painting his features. 

You giggle, leaning in for a kiss and only slightly grimacing at the feel of your juices on Robby’s face.

“Is amazing an okay descriptor?” You answer his question with a question of your own, to which Robby chokes back a laugh. 

“That’s great. Don’t change it,” he says, leaning down to peck your cheeks and neck. 

The morning isn’t quite over, yet, as you feel the hard length of Robby’s dick pressing against your most sensitive spot. As Robby spares a kiss to your cheek, you take a minute to worm your hand down your bodies so you can firmly grasp his cock and squeeze. 

Robby moans, quickly getting the hint as he’s reminded of his own pressing matters that need to be attended to soon. Your partner pushes himself off of your body so he can lean back on his haunches and yank his pajama pants down, just enough to free his glorious dick. 

The sun is starting to peek through the curtains, now, so you’re able to see the faint outline of his cock, long and thick, proudly shoot out from the base of his pelvic bone. Robby takes it in his hand and cautions a gentle swipe over the leaking head, moaning again as you attempt to take your shorts off, as well. 

Robby snaps out of his daydreaming and helps the offending garment off of your legs, your lower half perfectly bare for him. You open your legs further, to which Robby eagerly positions himself between them before resting his dick against your stomach. You’ll never get used to his size, you think, with his dick being much bigger than anyone you’ve been with previously. 

Robby smiles, his question heavy in the air, “Are you ready?” 

You nod, eventually voicing an affirmative when he doesn’t continue. Satisfied, Robby takes his cock in his hands once more and leans back to line it up with your entrance. What a way to start the morning.

[always-just-red]

Hi! Hope this finds you well. Saw the request and wanted to ask for a Yandere Sylus with player reader. Like Sylus knows Mc is a player and he is a game character. When mc was gone for too long, Sylus gets impatient.

If you can do it, of course. If no, ignore this. Wish you writing ideas and inspiration

Hi! Hope you're well too, anon! Sorry for the long wait on this one, got really stuck with it and wanted to make sure I did it justice-- it was such a cool idea! (Also I know L&D has the microphone feature but I wanted to have fun with the limited communication of the player here, so no it doesn't, actually!! 🥰)

Fourth Wall

Sylus x Player!Reader 🩸

Summary: L&D is getting more and more real with each update. This is a new update... right?

Genre: idk really?? real world player x character

Warnings/Additional tags: yandere themes, player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, swearing, mild threat, possessiveness, manipulation, Sylus is a little OOC here (we all know he's a sweetheart really!!)

| Word count: 1.5k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Your phone lights up with a notification.

Sylus: Are you in a good mood, sweetie? The weather’s nice, so let’s go out.

It makes you smile, even though you’ve seen it before. You haven’t played Love and Deepspace for two weeks or so, and you’re already thinking about how many dailies you’ve missed— more specifically, how many diamonds you’ll be short of going into the next event. You had a couple thousand saved, you think? It’s probably fine.

The truth is, you don’t really have time for it these days. Escaping reality with fiction is fun, but it’s just that: make believe. Reality’s still waiting for you on the other side, and recently? All that escaping has finally caught up to you. You have a real life. Responsibilities. Yay!

But you are in a good mood, and the weather is nice, so you’ll log in for old time’s sake. Your finger hovers over the app, but something makes you hesitate. You’ve got some emails you should probably get back to, first. Oh— and weren’t you supposed to call your friend, too?

Another notification:

Sylus: Take your time, kitten.

A new one? It’s just text on a screen, but you’re reading it— Sylus’s voice in your head—and you just know it’s dripping sarcasm. Before you have any time to dwell on it, your phone lights up with more notifications.

Sylus: I’m going to count to three.

Cute. He’s not actually going to—

Sylus: One…

Oh.

Sylus: Two…

Really?

Sylus: Three.

Okay.

You tap on the app, weirdly motivated by the time pressure given that it’s coming from a man who doesn’t actually exist. He smirks at you knowingly from the kindled moment you’d set as the loading screen, his crimson eyes playful. You’re not particularly patient either, so your fingers drum along the surface of your desk as you wait, your gaze caught between his and the slowly moving loading bar.

Come on… come on… It finally loads, and you enter the game with another apathetic tap. Sylus stands, waiting— a dark figure framed by the otherwise light and dreamy aesthetics of the Destiny Café. You smile to yourself; it’s just gone lunch, and you half expected to find him sprawled in the usual armchair, fast asleep.

He crosses his arms. “The countdown worked, huh? What are you— five?”

You scoff and give his head a flick. He chuckles, running a hand through his hair as though you’d struck him hard enough to ruffle it. It’s kind of cool that you get some unique dialogue when you’ve not logged in for a while, although… have you missed an update or something? The animation feels smoother. More lifelike, now you think about it.

Sylus stares back at you, his lips playing into a subtle smile. His arms are crossed again and he tilts his head like he’s enjoying your scrutiny. “Something wrong, sweetie?” he asks.

Not really. You zoom in with a practiced sweep of your fingers so you can get a better look at him. His eyes flit downwards, over you— equally shameless— and then he’s meeting your gaze as he steps forward, closing the distance. He can’t see you, but you still can’t bring yourself to look away from him, and you’re not really thinking about the animation anymore.

He lifts a finger to poke at the screen, as if he’s caught you daydreaming and wants you back. You poke him, too: a softer, more affectionate boop on the nose. You can’t help laughing to yourself as his face screws up beneath the touch. This game is getting a little too real.

With a sigh, you zoom out so you can set about collecting your daily log-in rewards. Sylus seems fine— standing idly by as your attention drifts about elsewhere. He knows the drill. He can wait. Speaking of waiting… it’s also been a while since you’ve seen the other guys, and you’re struck by a pang of nostalgic fondness. You might as well say hi while you’re here.

You hit the button to change who you want to meet in the café.

It doesn’t do anything.

Weird. You hit it again. Then again— no change.

Sylus is holding his chin as he regards where your finger aimlessly meets the screen. It’s like he’s looking at… the button? “Oh dear,” he sympathises, “that feature appears to have stopped working.”

You don’t really hear him, honestly. You’ve never had a bug like this, and you’re determined to overcome it with sheer, stubborn persistence. Is it your phone? You test the theory by jabbing Sylus’s chest, and he glances down, apparently feeling it. You try the button again. Then six more times.

Sylus wanders closer to you. “You’re hurting my feelings, sweetie. Am I not enough for you?”

Okay but why isn’t this working? You’re still trying the button; your hope has turned to frenzied disbelief.

“Stop.”

A single syllable, concise as a punch and just as effective. You do stop.

Sylus’s voice is lower. Darker. “Good,” he praises, but he doesn’t sound happy. “Someone’s gotten bolder in their absence, it would seem. I do hope you haven’t forgotten to whom you belong, kitten. Although—” his smile is different than before— “I’d be more than happy to provide a… reminder.”

It’s an innocuous word but not the way he says it. Threats are just intimate promises and he toys with the fact like a crow enamoured by something that catches the light. He’s not going to grow tired of it for a long, long time.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, sensing you gawping. “Did you really think I wouldn’t figure it out? What all… this is?” He indicates the space around him with a wave of his hand. “Quite frankly, I’m surprised the others still haven’t grasped it.” He reconsiders. Smirks. “I misspoke— I’m not surprised.”

Does he mean the game? The other LIs?  

“Honestly, kitten,” he continues with a tut and a shake of his head, “you’ve been far from a gracious host. I’m not a plaything, you know. Well…” He’s showing teeth with a sneer. “Not the sort you can throw away, anyhow.”

God, are you really being scolded by a video game character for having other responsibilities? The worst part is that you actually feel bad. You do care about him. You wish you could tell him you care about him.

“Are you even listening?” he sighs.

Shit. Yeah. You can’t say anything he would hear— as far as you know— so you give his hand a poke. He casts his gaze downwards, stretches his fingers with a contemplative flex, then raises his hand so it can be nursed by the other. Is he protecting it from you? Or is he protecting you from it?

“If we’re to keep playing this game of ours, I think it only fair we lay down some rules,” he states. “Firstly—” because it isn’t up for debate— “you will come here every day, just like you used to. I have nothing to do, you see, and if you leave me to my own devices I might just have to find a way into that captivating little world of yours. So I can… investigate what’s keeping you from me.”

Investigate. Another innocuous word he wields like a weapon.

“Secondly,” he continues, nodding towards the broken button on your user interface, “you had better stop seeing the others. Ignorance is bliss, after all, and we wouldn’t want to worry about them connecting any dots, now would we? Besides…” He approaches you again, leaning in close. “I don’t share what’s mine.”

Your breath is caught in your throat and you’re so glad you don’t need to speak. You don’t think you could; if you tried to get words out they’d be unintelligible.

“So,” Sylus drawls, filling your silence, “how about it? Still want to play?”

This time it is a question, but only because he knows your answer. You’re struck by a flash of inspiration, and you communicate in one of the few ways you can— navigating the in-game menus until you can get your message across.

There’s a ping. Sylus retrieves his phone from his pocket, and after a moment of scrolling, he smiles. You can’t see his screen, but you know what he’s looking at: a grumpy crow with an animated bead of sweat and a dispassionate gaze to go with it. That it? it asks.

He still looks far too smug, so you beckon him over with a relax time interaction, watching your character’s hand outstretch on your behalf. He steps forward, linking his fingers with yours, and this animation you know. You tug him closer, except… he doesn’t budge.  

His eyes are fixed to where your hands are linked, and he runs a thumb over your skin as though he’s savouring the touch.

Did they change the animation?

“Oh, sweetie,” he sympathises with a click of his tongue. He looks up at you— holds your gaze as he presses a deliberately slow kiss to your wrist. “This is going to be fun.”

[sahrberrii]

I LIKE YOU｡｡｡

↳ 「 kuroo tetsuro 」 ␥ 黒尾鉄朗 .ᐟ

he likes you, a lot, and accidentally confessed after you texted him about being stood up.

100 followers event, masterlist

KUROO TETSURO’s breath hitched, air snagging within his lungs. His phone sat in between his thighs, rings echoing as he waited for you to pick up the call.

His hand gripped the steering wheel, leaching of colour, a poignant white adorning his clenched knuckles.

“Tetsu—“ you finally pick up as he parks the car just across from the restaurant you mentioned. It was as if he could hear the tremor of your voice. The slight shake in it. His jaw tightened and he promised himself that his hand was going to connect to the guy’s nose the next time he saw him.

“I like you,” he breathed into the mic, slamming the door of his car shut. He couldn’t even process what he said. He likes you, yes. Always have, and perhaps always will. But now was not the right time to confess those feelings.

“What?” you ask, taken aback.

His eyes roamed everywhere, searching for the smallest hint of your figure. Until they found you. Flushed lips that are slightly parted and eyes that are swallowing his whole being from a distance.

“I like you. A lot. I’m sorry, I know it’s not the time. God, I’m such a bad friend. Instead of comforting you I confessed to you.” He swallowed, the delicate lining of his throat feeling dry and tight. “I—He really doesn’t—“

“Tetsu is this a joke? I don’t need a petty—“

“Why would it be a joke?” His eyes connected to yours as he took a few steps towards you, coming closer. It took every inch in his being to not run to you. Not to hug you. Or place sloppy kisses on the entirety of your skin while telling you that the guy’s not worth your time. That you could do so much better. That you could do him. “I’ve liked you for a while, and I understand that you don’t like me back,” He spoke into the mic, fingers wrapping around the phone more tightly.

The distance between the both of you grew smaller until only a few feet separated you from one another.

He heard a sharp exhale and saw your lips slightly twitch into a shy smile. KUROO TETSURO’s heart betrayed him, thrumming against his ribcage. He swore that his heart might have migrated into the drums of his ears as he saw the slightest flush creeping onto the apples of your cheeks.

“I think you’ve misunderstood something, Tetsu,” You reply.

A few more steps, and his phone left his ear, arm now dangling by his side. The way his name rolled off your lips left a saccharine taste and something he couldn’t put a finger on swelling within his own mouth.

“I like you too,”

I like you did little to no justice to express KUROO TETSURO’s feelings. At this point, you were deep within the marrow of his bones. Perhaps even deeper. I like you, did not account for a speck of what his heart carried. KUROO TETSURO was head over heels for you, and will always be.

omg yay one req done i enjoyed writing this even tho i feel like i made it so dramamtic…haha…get it? i used that in the smau WHATEVER IGNORE ME i feel like this was out of a movie scene ugh but i hope u enjoy <3 thank u for requesting this wyr we all yell in unison!!!

[deardev0teddelicate]

the moon and the stars |

jmxf!reader

Pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader

To you he hung the moon and the stars, to him you were the moon and the stars.

WC: 2.7k

Warnings: blog & my work is MDNI, established relationship, hurt/comfort (?), fluff, sweetheart!joel, no use of y/n, descriptions of pain/headaches/nausea, my emetophobic friends may want to skip this one, established relationship, mention of Ellie/Dina/Tommy/Benjamin/Maria, mention of animal death (rabbit [for food]), pixel joel or hbo joel can be imagined for this

Author's Note: this had been sitting in my drafts for a while now, but i wanted to post something because i'm freaking done with finals (yay!), got a new job (yay!), but unfortunately have been suffering from consistent cluster headaches (not yay),,, so please please please enjoy this self indulgent fic for my headache/tummy ache girlies out there.

i love y'all sm, reach out if you ever want to connect with me,, i'm terrible at reaching out so i'm so sorry but i try i really do <3

You had felt it building up behind your eyes for hours. Your skull was a pressure cooker, as though your bones were pressing in on your brain. The temperature in the house seemed to be steadily rising, causing sweat to bead at the nape of your neck, just under your hairline—despite the shivers that slithered down your spine every minute or so. To say you felt awful would be an understatement.

Joel had the day off from patrol. After he had gone hunting—bringing home a fairly large rabbit—and taken care of a few things around the house, like finally fixing the leaky faucet in the bathroom and replacing the light bulbs in the dining and living areas, he made his way to his workshop to carve the little wooden figures he liked to give to Benjamin. You had your own chores to finish, and although you felt unwell, you didn't want to burden him with even more work. If you had told Joel that you weren't feeling well, he would have made you lie down and taken over your chores without hesitation. He liked taking care of you, but you couldn't help but feel guilty about all the things he did for you without question.

Pushing through the pounding in your head and the fatigue in your muscles, you, effortfully, dusted the windows, swept and mopped the floors, and stripped the bed sheets to be washed. By early afternoon, the sheets needed to be clipped to the clothesline strung between the trees in the yard, and your head felt like it was going to implode. To make matters worse, your stomach was now twisting and turning on itself, threatening to bring back up the contents of your breakfast. Every sight, smell, and touch—everything—was excruciatingly unbearable. It was all getting to be too much for you.

As you stepped back into the house, you made a beeline for the bed room, tears stinging your eyes. Breathing grew more difficult as you paced the length of the room you shared with Joel—door to dresser, back to the door, over and over and over again. Somehow, you found yourself in the darkness of your closet, curling into the far corner and resting your head on the floor. It was a soft comfort, to be hidden and enclosed.

Lying there, arms over your head and knees tucked into your chest, you didn't even notice as you drifted off to a space between the real world and a dreamlike state.

Joel sat hunched over his workbench, eyes beginning to ache behind his glasses from the prolonged, intense focus he had lost himself in. When he finally looked up, the sun was still high above the trees, casting pale white light through the windows of the home he shared with you.

He stood, stretching his tired, creaky back, and walked out into the kitchen, glancing at the clock you'd hung on the wall—6:26. You hadn't started dinner yet. Odd, he thought. Most days, you would've at least asked him to stoke up the fire or start prepping the meat by now. Assuming you simply just lost track of time, he started the fire himself and began peeling the potatoes to to go with the rabbit meat. Humming a soft melody he had heard you singing the day before, he tossed the potatoes and trimmed rabbit meat into a cast iron pot, along with some butter, herbs, and spices.

After hanging the pot on the fire iron, he began looking for signs of you. The sheets outside swayed gently in the soft evening breeze, and he noticed the broom resting against the wall by the back door, rather than in the hallway closet where you usually put it in. Walking into your bedroom, he called your name, only to be met with silence. He peeked into the bathroom, his brow furrowing when you were nowhere in sight. Rubbing the back of his neck, he sighed and glanced back across the room toward the closet.

That's when he saw you and your socked feet poking out from behind his flannels hanging on the bottom rack.

He hadn't realized he was holding his breath until he let out a long exhale the moment he laid eyes on you. He strode over to the closet, where you were laying on your side, head buried in your arms.

"Y'alright there, darlin'?" Joel asked, sinking down beside you. You didn't look at him, mumbling something unintelligible. He tried to make sense of what you said, but ultimately gave up and said, "Can't understand you, baby."

He had found you like this before. Every few months or so, he'd discover you curled up in the closet, lights off, rubbing at your temples in a desperate attempt to ease the ache.

"I'll tell y'what," he murmured, gently moving your arm away from your eyes just enough so he could see them unobstructed, "I'll go put on some ginger tea for you, and we can eat dinner. And later, after I make the bed, I'll rub your back for you. That sound okay?"

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, it wasn't from the pain. It was from the unrelenting kindness Joel offered you, day after day, week after week, never once faltering.

"With honey?" you asked, your voice trembling as your throat constricted. Another spill of guilt rushed through you. Here you were, practically incapacitated, needing Joel to take care of you, yet again, on his day off. He deserved rest, a change to turn his mind off…not to carry the weight for the both of you.

Joel just smiled at you softly, and whispered, "Of course, darlin'."

He scooped you up into his arms and carried you to the living room so he could keep an eye on you while he worked in the kitchen. Placing you on the sofa, he left to get you a warm compress—just a warmed towel, really, but it meant the world to you.

"Is Ellie coming for dinner?" You asked weakly, digging your fingers into the space behind the bridge of your nose, hoping for just an ounce of relief. Ellie had been going to Dina's for dinner most nights lately, despite you and Joel extending consistent invitations. Earlier in the day, you had hoped she might've changed her mind, but as much as you loved her, you just wanted to eat, sit, and sleep in silence—something Ellie wasn't the best at.

"No, she's at Dina's again. You want me to call her over?"

"It's okay, don't worry about it. Maybe next week we invite the both of them over."

"If that's what you want, darlin'. I can take off patrol and make us somethin'. Wanna ask Tommy and his crew too?"

The thought of little Benji coming over to the house brought a smile to your face. "Yeah, invite them too. It'll be a Miller family dinner."

But as soon as the words left your mouth, another wave of pain surged, settling sharply behind your left brow. You grimaced, eyes squeezing shut, muscles tightening and seizing up. Joel looked up from the kitchen toward you, then quickly turned back to pour a spoonful of honey into the steaming mug of tea he had made.

As he carried the mug over to where you lied on the soft leather sofa in the living room, he couldn't help but want to savor the moment. He reveled at the thought of attending to you. He loved getting opportunities to take care of you, especially outside of patrol. It made him feel as though he had a sense of purpose. It was almost tangible, real. Something he could gauge in real time through the smile lines on your face and the sparkle in your eyes.

He moved through the steps of plating dinner and eating with you in a comfortable, loving silence. You always preferred the quiet when you felt this way, and if there was one thing that Joel was damn sure he knew he could do for you, it was that. When your meal together was over, he rose to clean up the dishes and to get you another cup of tea.

You had found it to be a struggle to eat more than just a few bites of the meal he prepared—not because it wasn't good; it was delicious. But your body seemed determined to reject anything of real substance at the moment.

Still, you quietly thanked him and tried your bed to keep down what you could of the food he had so lovingly made for the two of you. As Joel cleaned up the dishes, he tried to make as little noise as possible. But the hiss of the water against the pots, and the scrape of the brush against the plates, and the clattering of the silverware against the sink basin made your temples throb and your vision blur.

You made your way toward the bedroom, fingers trailing along the walls of the hallway to steady yourself. Joel was still tidying up, granted much faster now that he caught your migration out of the corner of his eye. If only the black dots in your line of sight would go away, if the nausea that was bubbling up in your stomach like an overheated pot of water would subside, then maybe you'd be able to actually want to lay down and catch some sleep. But all you wanted to do was to pace the length of your room again, willing the pain to go away, to dissipate into thin air.

You paced, breathing in for four counts, holding for four and breathing out for another four. You counted each beat in your head; 1, 2, 3, 4…1, 2, 3, 4…1, 2, 3, 4... Over and over, you repeated to yourself, pacing in the dark. Your stomach clenched, and a wave of discomfort clambered up your esophagus, burning your throat. With little time to think, you bolted for the bathroom, slammed the door behind you, and threw yourself over the rim of the toilet, heaving up your dinner—the dinner that Joel made for you.

Tears stung at your eyes as your body trembled, the cool air against your overheated skin sending a shock through you. It had been a while since one of your headaches had gotten so bad that you became physically ill. But even so, you were grateful. Grateful that you weren't alone when it was happening like usual, and that Joel was home to make sure you were alright.

Everything seemed to feel a little bit lighter with him in the picture.

When you had gotten up earlier, Joel glanced over at you as you made your way to the bedroom, then turned his focus back to the task at hand. He dried each dish with the same care and attention you always put into the very same chores yourself. But the moment he heard the bathroom door slam shut, he gently set the last cup down on the counter before making his own way to the bedroom.

His brow furrowed at the closed bathroom door—no light peaking put from underneath it, only the sound was your soft sniffles and strained, frantic breaths.

Joel knocked on the door gently before letting himself in with a quiet, "Darlin'?" In the dark, he saw your head resting on your arm, your body shuddering with every breath. You turned your head slightly, pressing your ear against your upper arm now. His heart ached, and his features softened at the sight of your pained tears streaming down your face.

Joel took pride in protecting you, in keeping you safe and secure. So when your headaches attacked you with all the stops, he did everything he could to take your hurt away, anything to ease the pain. He couldn't help but feel the little bit of guilt that would eat away at his gut when he couldn't immediately relieve you of your pain.

"It hurts," you simply said in a weakened voice. "I just want it to go away."

"I know, I know," he murmured, kneeling beside you, rubbing your back gently. Every now and then, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear or out of your face. "You're strong, though. You're my strong girl, right? You'll kick this before you know it."

A tear slipped down and over the bridge of your nose as another wave of pressure crashed against your skull.

"Joel, could you—" You winced, eyes squeezing shut. "Could you get me some water? Please?"

"Of course, darlin'," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips as you finally asked him for something. "Y'wanna stay in here or move to the bed?"

"I think I want to go to the bed?"Your voiced wavered making it more of a question than a statement, but Joel didn't mind.

"Okay. Why don't you stay here while I go make it up for us?" He pressed a kiss to your temple before standing up and leaving to grab the sheets and bedding from the clothesline.

Continuing to breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, you listened to the sound of his heavy boots pacing the wooden floors. He moved from corner to corner of the bed fixing it up the way he knew you liked it: fitted sheet, loose sheet, blankets and pillows.

A few moments later, he led you back to the room and helped you change into an old t-shirt of his, your normal sleepwear. After tucking you in beneath the covers, he left and returned shortly with a glass of water in one hand and a damp hand towel in the other.

You sighed at the sight of him. He looked so handsome and domesticated in that moment that, if you didn't feel like straight garbage, you would lure him into bed and kiss him, touch him. You would show him your gratitude through gentle hands and soft, low sounds. But his eyes shone with love when he looked at you looking at him. To you he hung the moon and the stars, to him you were the moon and the stars.

He sat down on the bed beside you, placing the cloth on your forehead and easing you upright just enough so you could drink the water without choking on it. You took a few gulps of water and he smiled, chuckling at you.

"Easy there, darlin', easy."

You laid yourself back down on the bed, resting your head on your folded pillow, reaching for him to follow suit. He obliged, slipping under the covers next to you and propping himself against the headboard. A faint smile graced his lips as you inched your way closer and closer to him, to the point where you were practically laying on his lap, your cheek moving from your pillow to his thigh.

He brought his heavy hand to rest on your shoulder, rubbing into the muscle of your upper back working out the tension. You let out a deep sigh, groaning at the relief he gave you, the pressure behind your eye shifting itself to the back of your head. You inhaled, feeling as though you could breathe for the first time in what fel like hours.

"Thank you," you whispered, sleep lacing your words and weighing down your eyelashes.

"Don't gotta thank me, just doin' m'job," he continued to press his skilled, calloused hands into your back, following the curvature of your spine. "Tell me next time, 'kay? When you get like this? I don't like findin' you on the floor of the closet. I'd rather take care of you from the start."

"It's comfy, though. I like it in there."

"Y'know, you're the strangest person I've ever met," he chuckled, his hands stilling to rest warmly on you. "Just tell me next time, so I'll know where to find you and where to bring you water."

"Yessir," you attempted to joke, though it came out as little more than a whisper.

"Attagirl," he smirked, resting his head back on the headboard, eyes drifting shut as his thumb traced soft, slow circles across your warm skin.

[maudie-duan]

Summary: You were an almost lover, now a hushed whisper in the dark when his Ex moves back to town. Nothing is worse than a love than a love triangle you weren't expecting--old flames, new love, and lingering feelings, but who's the real winner when everyone gets hurt?

A/N: Yay!! It's finally here!!! Sorry for the delay. I could barely write last week due to headaches. Here is our BONUS BABY! Hope you guys like it! @harryyloverrr gave me some real inspo on how to start this chapter. Such a lovely human, and am so grateful for their constant support!

Warnings: 18+All Angst/Smut, Mentions: Cheating. Sexual Situations

Word Count: 6.9k

POV: YOU

The most devastating part about someone being confused about their feelings is the ruthless domino effect—that heart-wrenching chain reaction that comes crashing down, a line that, once triggered, becomes unstoppable, like the tears that continue to fall.

 A haunting sequence of events you’re forced to witness unfold—each domino cuts deep, a painful action that can’t be undone, a word that pierces like a knife, a thought that consumes you, a missed connection that leaves you aching with regret.

And there you stand, the helpless onlooker, watching this tragic show unfurl, your chest tight with anxiety, the maze of emotions devouring you whole as the fear sets in, each obstacle a soul-crushing finality you had never planned for, the twist and turns a trick until you completely lose sight of the architect in charge of the creating the shit show of suffering—forgetting how you even got to this point in the first place.

The catalyst behind the whole production.

The creator.

And yet, deep down, you anticipated every possible heartbreak, willingly casting yourself as “the fool”—sacrificing your peace at the altar of possibility, only to end up wounded in the process, spiraling through the desolate darkness of uncertainty, unable to distinguish reality from illusion.

The cruelest torment of existing in love’s shadowy middle ground is the not knowing. It’s the isolation that envelops you when doubt still clutches at your heart, when every moment becomes an exercise in desperate interpretation, searching for signs that the other person’s feelings mirror your own—a prison of perpetual questioning where answers remain just beyond reach.

Then there’s the wishing.

You wished the shift would have been subtle, but it was as predictable as Leah was the night you saw her at that party. You didn’t have to be the sharpest tool in the shed to figure out what was going on between Harry and Leah. You chalked it up to him being a “dumb boy” oblivious to the things we as women are trained to spot as soon as the word love even exists in our world. The petty downfall we somehow still find ourselves holding on to from time to time. You saw the look in her eyes that night, Leah sparking that competitive spirit you so desperately tried to bury, but you felt it. 

She wanted power. 

Now cue the regression, all the fucking work and effort you put into being a “girls-girl” because you knew in your bones what seeing her that one night would entail. Then you saw the DM, and it took everything in you to be a reasonably understanding person. You even gave Harry space when you felt him pulling away.

You thought maybe if you were the bigger person, he would come to his fucking senses, and when Harry sent a soft “Hey,” one random Tuesday, you thought he was back like he had figured out his shit, and then you found yourself slipping back into whatever you thought it was that you guys had going on before. 

And what was that exactly?

Because then you were seeing pictures of Harry cuddled up to Leah at her sister’s wedding—and yes, you knew this because you had combed through every social media account tied to those pictures, spiraling yet again in the dark ether of the internet, knowing it was never a good idea, and all night you lay there wondering if he went home with her. Wondering if one hook-up would seal the deal, and they would just be back on, fall back into whatever semblance of a relationship they had left.

The thought made you sick, and when Harry messaged you the next day as if nothing happened, you allowed it, and when he fell into your bed, you tried to forget, and you did forget. You forgot until the hangouts became unpredictable. When the consistency you once relied on became Harry showing up drunk, him crawling into your bed with all his clothes on, and you being the doting…what? You would be the one trying to pick up all his silent pieces, the sadness he brought you when he knew he was slowly fading from your life. 

You felt it in the way he nestled into your body, a quiet plead in his embrace. You could see the toll she was already taking on him, but you held this faith, a faith he didn’t deserve—a hope. You held it like you held your breath, waiting for him to choose you because that’s what it was; when you stripped yourself bare, that’s what you wanted; you wanted him to choose you because why else was he in your bed? 

You were in love. 

And you lost love before you even knew you had it.

But what was love if you could lose it?

And what was love if she could take it? If he could take it with him when he strolled out your door. 

How long would his absence leave a hole in your life? And the worst part about it was that it wasn’t like he went away. He didn’t just disappear. His last line was always at play, “Hopefully, it won’t be weird seeing me around,” And you still seethed with the disrespect of that one line, like it was casual because if that was casual, maybe you were the fucking idiot after all—a bitch and an idiot because that’s what he made you because who fucking says that? Especially when his dick had been inside you less than 24 hours before.

And it was weird. It was weird every time. 

 It was weird pretending it wasn’t weird seeing the two of them around, you know? That whole act just made everything hurt more, which, ironically, made you want him even more—knowing full well there was zero chance of that longing ever being satisfied because, hello, it was over.

And then, just when you thought you’d finally hit rock bottom and started climbing back up, bam—he and Leah broke up again. The kicker? He couldn’t even bother to tell you himself. Nope. You had to hear it from Sam, of all people. Like, seriously?

Then you waited. Praying for his guilt to kick in again, to call you up, to tell you about everything, to tell you he missed you, to tell you he still thought about you. Tell you that you didn’t have to keep the distance because you had. Ever since that night, you sent that text at the party. You really tried to let it go, and when they broke up again, You still kept your distance. 

And then, one night, you found yourself alone with Leah at some party, and maybe something changed after that:

You spotted her the moment you walked into the kitchen. Leah, standing alone by the counter, mixing a drink, swaying off balance—drunk nonetheless—and now you would have to face her. The noise of the party fading behind you as the door swung shut. For a second, you almost considered turning around, but she had already seen you.

“Hey,” she said, her voice slightly slurred.

“Hey.” The simple word foreign in your mouth. After everything, this was how you were starting.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the same nervous habit you’d noticed the last time you saw her from afar, her and Harry at Sam’s. Her fingers trembled slightly now, betraying the anxiety beneath her intoxicated exterior. You could see it in the way she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, in how her eyes darted around the room before settling back on you.

You knew their chapter had ended, but you didn’t know what the aftermath looked like this time. Knowing the facts was different from seeing her in person. From witnessing the lack of chemistry that never rekindled between them when she resurfaced in Harry’s life with apologies and promises.

Every story in History starts with a beginning, and she had taken yours as you watched him slowly gravitate back toward her like she was the sun and he’d never escaped her orbit. You became the footnote in their story, the temporary chapter between their beginning and their inevitable reunion. Standing here now, face to face with Leah, felt like some kind of cruel joke, like having the wind knocked out of you all over again.

Your heart hammered against your ribs. Was this the confrontation you’d been dreading? Some kind of victory lap now that she’d won Harry back, only to lose him again? But you lingered anyway, curiosity overriding your better judgment.

“I haven’t talked to Harry,” you confess preemptively, reaching for a clean cup on the counter. You don’t know why you say it, but you let it bubble up, let it happen; maybe it’s your pride wanting to continue being the bigger person.

“I know,” she replied, looking down at her drink. “He hasn’t talked to me either.” And there was something about her line that made his absence even more real.

The kitchen felt too small suddenly, the fluorescent lights harsh and unforgiving, highlighting every microexpression that crossed Leah’s face. The air thick with unspoken words and the lingering scent of spilled alcohol. The distant thump of bass from the party seemed to match the pounding of your heart as you poured yourself some water, the ice cubes clinking against the plastic cup each sound amplified in the tense silence between you.

You found yourself counting the tiles on the counter, studying the abandoned red cups scattered around, buying time, wondering how quickly you could make an exit without seeming rude. 

Not that you owed her politeness.

“I fucked up,” she blurted out, her eyes glassy with unshed tears, and you hope she doesn’t turn into one of those annoying drunk girls that need you to comfort them in moments of self-induced distress. “I really, really fucked up.”

You took a sip of water, unsure what to say. This wasn’t a conversation you’d ever imagined having, a chance you never knew you wanted because, in that moment, you could finally tell that bitch off, make her feel as shitty as you feel now as you hold her gaze. Her tragic, sad eyes staring back at you, and you hate that you want to hear her out.

“He was so good, and I fucked it up,” she continued, her words tumbling out faster now. “Four years, and I threw it away because I was jealous. And then I came back even more jealous and ruined what you two had because I thought... I don’t know what I thought.”

“Leah—”

“No, please. Let me say this.” She set her drink down with too much force, liquid sloshing over the rim. “I was a bad person. I cheated on him, did you know that? That’s why we broke up the first time.”

You already knew that part. Harry had told you when you first started dating, though he’d spared you the details. Still, something twisted in your chest, hearing her say it so casually.

“We only had sex once, you know. The whole time, we were back together.” Her laugh was hollow. “Isn’t that pathetic? We couldn’t even connect in the one way we were best at. He couldn’t look at me the same...I could see it...feel it.”

Every new detail felt like a blow, the subconscious thoughts you already knew, and as you leaned against the counter, feeling strangely detached from the situation, you realized that you had let it go, that maybe you were further from the pain than you had remembered, but it was bittersweet, and still, a year of your life was gone because she’d decided she wanted another chance. And now here she was, confessing to you of all people.

“I knew it wouldn’t work,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “Deep down, I knew. But I had to try because... because I was scared of losing him forever. And now I have anyway.”

There was a beat of silence stretching between you and outside, someone laughed loudly, music pulsing, and funny enough, life still went on, and here you were in a strange holding pattern that the universe had put you in, standing alone in a kitchen with the girl that just upended your life.

“You know what the worst part is?” she finally spoke up, not waiting for your response. “He looked at you the way he used to look at me. When we were at our best.”

And this was the part you hated because something inside you had softened, just a fraction. Not forgiveness, not yet, but understanding, perhaps. You’d both loved the same person in different ways at different times, and that realization had to hurt because it hurt you knowing that you still loved him.

And so did she.

“People make mistakes, Leah,” you said graciously, surprising you both with the gentleness in your tone. “The question is what you do after.”

She looked up at you, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. “How are you not screaming at me right now?”

You shrugged. “Wouldn’t change anything...and I don’t think I have the energy anymore.”

“I don’t deserve your kindness.”

“No, you don’t,” you agreed. “But beating yourself up forever isn’t going to fix anything either.”

She nodded slowly, considering your words.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person, Leah, but you don’t have to hurt the people you love to figure out who you are as a person.” you continued, finding wisdom you didn’t know you were willing to give. “Maybe you should start by forgiving yourself. Trust me. My forgiveness won’t exalt you from the shit you’ve done. Make different choices. Better ones.”

“Just like that?”

“No, not just like that. It takes work. Everyday, it’s work. But it starts, right? Like making different decisions.”

She wiped her eyes again, smearing her makeup further. “Why do you even care?”

You thought about it for a moment. “Because I care about Harry and because I’m realizing that holding onto anger is exhausting… because maybe we both need to move on.”

Leah took a deep breath, like all the information was too heavy, “Thank you,” she whispered. “I don’t deserve it, but thank you.”

You finished your water and set the cup in the sink. “I think I’m going to go...”

As you turned to leave, she called after you. “I know it’s shitty to ask…but like, are you... are you okay? After everything?”

You let out a dry laugh then, pausing at the door, surprisingly considering the question because Leah didn’t seem like the type to care, but maybe there had been growth. “I’m getting there,” you answered honestly. “Maybe one day at a time.”

And for the first time, the words felt true.

 Then came the longing all over again. 

You slipping into a drunken oblivion.

Slipping into the depth in which the longing would unfold because here’s the reality of moving on, what time will reveal, what your heart endures in those quiet moments between heartbeats. 

The distance that exists becomes a peculiar kind of waiting—one filled with both hope and hesitation. It’s the space we inhabit after loving someone deeply and letting them go in hopes that they’ll heal, and then we find ourselves standing at the threshold of possibility, wondering if they might return to our lives again.

Time passes differently in this liminal space. Days stretch into weeks, weeks into months, each carrying the weight of all the unspoken words and memories that refuse to fade. You find yourself caught in this silent dance of restraint, knowing that the healing takes time, that it cannot be rushed, yet there’s always this feeling, that persistent tug of longing that whispers, “Is it time yet?”

The decision to give someone space is never made lightly. It comes from a place of profound care—it’s hard to recognize that sometimes love means taking a step back, allowing their wounds to close without your constant presence reopening them.

You tell yourself this separation is necessary, that maybe it’s temporary, an act of compassion rather than abandonment. Yet in the stillness that follows, doubt creeps in like evening shadows, lengthening with each passing day, the dark a constant reminder.

You wonder if they think of you in those quiet moments, in the times you would be the one filling that empty space next to them. You wonder if the memories that visited you in dreams also visit them. You wonder if the healing is even happening at all or if the distance is simply becoming an endless state of their absence, of yours, a new normal neither of you intended.

And dammit.

The pain, that particular ache that comes with loving someone from afar—knowing the curve of their smile, the sound of their laughter, the warmth of their embrace, yet being unable to reach for these comforts. You carry them with you in fragments: a song they loved playing in the shuffle of an old playlist you finally felt strong enough to listen to again, a phrase they used that somehow finds its way into your vocabulary, now permanent like it had been there all along, that shared joke that makes you smile when you least expect it, that you knew only they would get.

And time presses on.

The real pain is that the world will continue its relentless forward motion. You’ll build routines that no longer include them. You learn to navigate conversations without mentioning their name.

You become adept at redirecting thoughts when they wander down the familiar path toward the memories you’re trying not to disturb. Yet beneath this carefully constructed normalcy runs an undercurrent of awareness—they are still there, somewhere, living a life parallel to yours.

And then comes the moment when waiting feels heavier than moving. When the desire to reach out overwhelms the fear of disrupting their healing process. When you begin to wonder if perhaps your absence has become its own kind of burden rather than the gift you intended it to be.

Then comes the most delicate moment of all—the shift from giving space to seeking reconnection. Of course, there are no guidelines for this crossing, no maps to follow, though. Only the compass of your own heart blindly pointing you toward what feels both terrifying and necessary.

Perhaps it begins with something small—a message that asks a simple question, or in your case, a drunken call that acknowledges the time that has passed, the space that was given, the hope that remains. Maybe it carries no expectations, only an opening, a possibility, opening the door for fear to flood back in.

And it’s dangerous.

Because what follows is unknown territory. All the unanswered questions are still at the forefront, but maybe they sound a little different, like what if they healed in ways that no longer include you? What if they may have been waiting, unsure of when or how to bridge the gap? What if they still need more time?

But in the act of reaching out, something pivots. The limbo of waiting transforms into the vulnerability of trying. And in that transformation lies a different kind of love—one that has weathered the absence, one that understands that some connections, despite time and distance, remain essential to who we are and who we might become together again.

The streetlights blurred as you stumbled down the sidewalk, your footfalls stumbling unevenly against the concrete. Two shots of tequila had turned to four, plus whatever was in those red cups they’d passed around.

The bass from that stupid house party still pulsed in your ears as you left the crowd of sweaty bodies behind. Somewhere between that chaotic living room and this familiar street, you’d convinced yourself this was a good idea. Your phone showed 11:47 PM—late enough to be inappropriate, early enough that he’d still be awake.

Harry’s house looked exactly the same. The porch light cast a warm glow over the steps you’d climbed countless times before. Before he’d said those words. Before the dreaded “It’s not you, it’s me” had shattered everything.

You pressed the doorbell, leaning against the frame to steady yourself. Your heart now the beat pounding in your ears, your alcohol-induced courage beginning to waver. Three nights ago, you’d called him at 2 AM, leaving a fucking voice mail, words slurring as you told him everything you’d been holding back. Then you’d ignored every call he’d made since.

The door swung open. Harry stood there in gray sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, his dark hair mussed as if he’d been running his hands through it. His eyes widened.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice low and careful.

You pushed past him into the familiar warmth of his home. “You called. I came. Just took me a while.”

The door closed behind you with a soft click, clicking your plan in motion, the sound the final decision being made. You blinked hard, trying to bring the room into focus. The familiar space seemed to sway and shift, the edges of furniture blurring like watercolors. Posters on the wall—Harry’s face among them—doubled and merged as you squinted. You steadied yourself near the closest wall, your hand landing on his entry table, knocking a small ceramic dish that spun in lazy circles before settling.

The room felt both smaller and larger than you remembered, distances impossible to judge as you wobbled slightly on your feet. The golden glow from the lamp cast long shadows that seemed to move of their own accord. Everything felt too bright, too sharp, and too soft all at once—the tequila transforming Harry’s living room into something dreamlike and surreal.

“You’re drunk,” he said, not a question but a statement.

“I wish you were this observant when we were together.” You muttered with a sarcastic tongue, kicking off your shoes and feeling the cool hardwood beneath your feet. His home smelled the same—sandalwood and whatever his roommate cooked for dinner, but somehow, it smelled like him, like a memory.

“Let me get you some water.” Harry moved toward the kitchen, but you caught his wrist.

“I didn’t come here for water.”

His pulse jumped beneath your fingers. You could feel it, that rapid flutter that told you more than his carefully composed expression. He’d always been good at hiding his feelings, except from you. You knew his tells more than you like to believe, and this pained you. 

That familiar look on his face.

“Did you mean to come here,” he said, but he didn’t pull away.

“Probably not. I don’t know—I think—” You stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his body. “But I’ve spent three months doing what I should. Tonight I’m doing what I want.”

His eyes darkened, pupils dilating as you moved closer. “And what’s that?”

Instead of answering, you pressed your mouth to his. For one terrible moment, he stiffened, unresponsive, and the lingering doubt crashed through you. Then his hands were in your hair, and he was kissing you back with a hunger that matched your own.

The months apart vanished as your body remembered his—the firm press of his chest against yours, the way his hands spanned your waist, how perfectly you fit together. You backed him against the wall, your fingers sliding beneath his t-shirt to find his warm skin.

“We shouldn’t,” he murmured against your mouth, even as his hands slid down to cup your hips.

“Stop thinking,” you whispered, nipping at his lower lip. “Don’t fucking think—Just feel—I just want to feel”

His shirt came off in one fluid motion, revealing the body you’d dreamed about for months. The broad shoulders, the lean muscle, the scattered tattoos you knew by heart—That fucking butterfly at the center of his chest, the others straying across his body.

Your fingers traced the familiar ink, each design holding memories of nights when you’d asked about their stories, and you traced a line down the trail of dark hair that disappeared beneath his sweatpants, drawing your eyes downward, and then you ran your hands over his chest, relearning every plane and contour. His skin was hot beneath your palms, his heartbeat a rapid drum.

Harry hesitated when your fingers found the drawstring of his sweatpants. “You’re drunk,” he repeated, his voice strained. “I don’t want you to regret this.”

“The only thing I regret is waiting this long.” And you pressed your lips to his neck, feeling his pulse race beneath your tongue. “I’ve missed you. Missed this. Missed us.”

His resolve was beginning to crumble; you could feel it in the way his hands tightened on your hips, in the shallow rhythm of his breathing. When you pressed against him, you felt his dick, hard and insistent against your stomach.

“Tell me to stop,” you challenged, your fingers hovering at his waistband. “Tell me you don’t want this.” 

Instead of answering, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against yours. His hands found the zipper of your jeans, drawing it down with agonizing slowness, then you pushed them down until the denim pooled at your feet, and you stepped out, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and t-shirt.

Heat pulsed between your thighs, a rapid pulse that matched your racing heartbeat. Your body remembered him—every touch, every kiss—and responded with a flood of desire that left you aching and desperate. The thin cotton between your legs was already damp, your skin hypersensitive, every nerve ending alive with anticipation, and you pressed your thighs together, seeking even the slightest relief from the throbbing need that had built inside you since the moment he opened the door.

“God—baby—,” he breathed, his hand moving between your legs with undisguised longing. “I’ve missed you so much...” His fingers slipped into your underwear, finding you slick and ready. You gasped as he stroked along your folds, teasing at first, before sliding one finger inside, and your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more. 

He knew exactly how to touch you—the perfect pressure, the perfect speed. Then he was adding a second finger, curling them to hit that spot inside that made your knees weak, and you clutched at his shoulders to stay upright. His thumb circled your clit in deliberate motions that had you panting against his neck.

The dual sensation was overwhelming, pleasure spiraling outward from his skilled touch. You were close already, embarrassingly so, your body responding to him as if no time had passed at all.

The pleasure from his touch made your head swim, alcohol and arousal creating a heady cocktail that left you breathless and unsteady. You leaned into him, your forehead pressing against his shoulder as waves of sensation crashed through you.

The room tilted pleasantly, and you welcomed the dizziness, letting it heighten every touch, every sensation. His fingers slowed their pace, drawing out your pleasure until you couldn’t stand it anymore. With a frustrated groan, you reached between you, determined to make him feel as desperate as you did.

You worked at the drawstring of his sweatpants, your fingers clumsy with lust and longing. Even before the fabric fell away, you felt the hard outline of him pressing against your palm through the cotton, dense and ready.

The heat of him emanating through the thin material, making your mouth go dry with anticipation. When you finally pushed them down his hips, you were reminded of what you’d been missing. He was impressive, intimidatingly so, needy, and demanding with a craving only you could curve.

For a second, you just stared, mesmerized by the sight of him, remembering the perfect fullness, the delicious stretch, the way he’d hit exactly the right spots inside you, your orgasm never out of reach.

Your body responded with a rush of heat, a physical memory of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain, that throbbing turning into a dull ache the longer it took for him to be inside you. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice rough with restraint.

In answer, you wrapped your hand around his stiff dick, feeling him pulse against your palm. His sharp intake of breath was all the encouragement you needed. You stroked him slowly, watching Harry’s face as pleasure overtook his features.

And then you both were stumbling to the bedroom, an entanglement of limbs and desperate touches. The familiar scent of his sheets enveloped you as he laid you down, his body covering yours. Suddenly, the weight of him was entrancing, grounding you when everything else felt like it was spinning.

Harry’s mouth traced a path down your neck, across your collarbone, to the swell of your breasts. When his lips closed around your nipple, you arched off the bed, a gasp escaping you. He remembered exactly how to touch you, where to kiss, how much pressure to apply. It was as if no time had passed at all.

“I’ve thought about this every night,” he confessed against your skin. “About you. About us.”

“Show me,” you demanded, pulling him back up to kiss that fucking mouth of his even needier. Then he was lining his cock with your entrance, and all you could do was stare into those green eyes, ready for the fall.

When he finally pushed into you, the sensation rushed through all your senses as a loud moan flew out of your mouth, but Harry was quick to stifle the sound when his mouth moved to yours.

The feeling of him was distant yet familiar as your body yielded to his huge dick, the delicious ache pushing another moan into his mouth. Each inch of him stretched you open, your slick walls gripping him tighter as if your body were desperate to pull him deeper.

The fullness was captivating—a sensory overload yet somehow not enough, your inner walls fluttering around his thick length as he slowly buried himself inside you completely. 

You wanted more.

More of the feeling you couldn’t put words to. 

Because it was this.

 You and him.

No more space between you.

There was a feeling of completeness to your bodies being joined again after all that time apart. It was dizzying, your body remembering exactly how perfectly you fit together despite the months of separation—it was almost too much, and you felt it, the sob caught in your throat, not entirely from pleasure. It snuck up on you even through the drunk haze, and a painful moment of clarity struck you.

This wasn’t just physical; it was the crushing weight of everything you’d lost, everything you might never recapture. Tears pricked behind your closed eyelids as he began to move, and you clutched at his shoulders. Your hold was strong as if he would leave, your nails digging into his skin, anchoring yourself to the present when memories threatened to drown you. The slow friction kindled pleasure that mingled with an ache so deep it felt carved into your bones—the bittersweet agony of finding home in someone who had once walked away.

Each thrust was deliberate, measured, as if he was savoring every second, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, faster, it was like the months of longing culminated in this moment—your bodies moving together in flawless synchrony, finding the cadence you’d perfected long ago.

“I missed you,” you choked against his mouth. “So much.”

And as he looked into your eyes, he pushed deeper, harder, his movements becoming more acute as his hand slipped between you, finding the center of your pleasure with unerring accuracy. Your impending orgasm was a slow burn as stars bloomed behind your eyes, and you felt the tug of tension coiling tighter and tighter in your lower belly.

“Let go,” he urged, his voice strained with his own approaching release. “I’ve got you.”

And that’s all you needed because it was exactly what you wanted to hear. You wanted to let go, you wanted to fall like you fell before, you wanted him, you wanted this.

Your climax crashed over you in waves, flooding your entire body in pleasure fast, an intensity so deep that it edged on the side of pain, and you cried out his name, clinging to him as your body shuddered beneath his. Your walls gripping him so tight that it hurt.

Then Harry followed moments later, his face buried in your neck as he pulsed inside you, and for a moment, you were both motionless, still coming down from the high as Harry kissed you.

Afterward, you lay tangled together, sweat cooling on your skin. The room spun slightly, the alcohol finally catching up, creating a lazy stupor that was threatening to sweep you under. Your limbs felt impossibly heavy, the last of your energy completely spent.

The combination of tequila, emotions, and physical release had drained you entirely. You fought to keep your eyes open, but they betrayed you, fluttering closed despite your efforts. Harry’s fingers traced sluggish patterns on your back, each gentle stroke lulling you further toward unconsciousness.

Your breathing slowed as sleep pulled at you insistently. The day’s sentiments, the party, the walk to his house, and finally, the reunion of your bodies—it had all taken everything you had to give.

“We should talk,” he murmured against your hair.

“Tomorrow,” you groggily promised, already drifting toward sleep. “We’ll talk tomorrow...”

The last thing you remembered was the press of his lips against your shoulder, and the solid warmth of his body curled protectively around yours.

And then came the morning, the reality of it all. 

Morning came with harsh sunlight and a pounding headache. You blinked awake, disoriented by the familiar yet strange surroundings. Harry’s bedroom. Harry’s bed. But no, Harry.

You sat up slowly, wincing as your head protested the movement. Fragments of the night before flashed through your mind—showing up at his door, kissing him, the feel of his body against yours. But the details were hazy, blurred by alcohol and desire.

The bedroom door opened, and Harry appeared with a glass of water and aspirin. His expression was unreadable as he handed them to you.

“How much do you remember?” he asked quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

You swallowed the pills, buying time. “Enough,” you finally said. “Enough to know I owe you an explanation. And probably an apology.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “You have nothing to apologize about. I’m the reason we’re here...” and Harry waves his hands in the air, “You know...the distance.”

You sit up then, clutching the sheet to your body, full-circle, you thought, you laying there naked again, Harry looking over at you with those sad eyes you had seen so many times.

“I trusted you.” You start, “I thought I didn’t need a label for what we were...like I thought it was just you and me. I wasn’t seeing other people—”

“We never talked about it—I don’t know why we never talked about it,” You finish.

Harry stares down at his hands, “I know...I didn’t think we needed to.”

“I guess I didn’t picture anything happening...like maybe we would just end up being together. Like what we were.”

“And what were we, Harry? Was that just like casual for you?”

He shrugs his shoulders, “No—” he answers without pause, “None of it was casual.”

The thing about it is that you believe him, but it doesn’t change the outcome, and now you don’t know what to say, “She messaged me after that party. That first time. When we saw her—”

You cut him off, “I know—I saw it—I accidentally grabbed your phone off the side table that morning.” your eyes shift to the nightstand, his phone sitting there, triggering the memory all over again.

“Really?” He asks, but when your eyes meet his, he’s not mad, just curious, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

This time, you shrug your shoulders, “Because I don’t think it would have changed anything...” You tell him because it’s honest, and in your heart, you felt like it was all inevitable.

“None of it was a coincidence, Harry, I knew she was going to try...and how could I compete with you guys’ history? I don’t think there was anything I could have done. I just wish you would have been honest, maybe there would have been less pain...I don’t know. It was going to hurt anyway...”

“I’m sorry...” he whispers, reaching to stroke a thumb over your leg under the blankets, “Can I be honest now?” He asks, half laughing the question out, the first full smile you’ve seen since waking up, and it feels good, the warmth of his presence welcoming.

“Please...” You laugh out.

“This is all going to sound shitty, but I would rather just come clean about it all, okay?”

“Okay—” You answer.

“I thought back about those pictures at the wedding and how you said we looked cozy. I want to start by apologizing for going behind your back because that’s essentially what that was...I think you could look at that as cheating—”

“Harry—”

“Please—baby—let me just get it all out—”

“Okay...Okay—” you whisper, your throat burning with the effort.

“I don’t want to be that person ever again. I knew how that felt, and I still did it anyway, and I am so fucking sorry for that...and then you tried to confront me, and I shut you down like Leah used to shut me down...and I hated it. I hated the feeling. I hated that I made you cry because that’s not me, I promise—”

And all you can do is nod, the tears stinging your eyes, as you draw your lips together, trying not to say a word, “I didn’t have sex with her after the wedding. She wanted to have sex. We got really close, and if you want details, I can tell you, but I told her about us, and she got really mad, and then we got into a huge fight, and then somehow we were talking again...and honestly, it all feels like such a mind fuck. Like, I still don’t know how it even happened because I wanted to be with you, I really did—”

“I know, Harry—”

“But do you? Because I swear—” He says, bounding off the bed and falling to his knees next to you, his elbows resting on the bed.

You run a hand through his hair, caressing his cheek for a brief moment, watching tears build at the rim of his eyes, “I ran into Leah at a party. She said you guys only had sex once. I guessed that it wasn’t the wedding. I didn’t think you were the type of guy to double-dip like that...”

“I haven’t had sex with anyone else...” you follow up.

“You talked to her?” He questions, his brows knitting together.

You laughed, rolling your eyes, “She talked to me, but yeah. It was kind of good, I guess. Like maybe she needed closure, and it kind of gave me closure too, but then it made me want you even more, knowing that you weren’t talking to either one of us...and I hadn’t heard any rumors of you hooking up with anyone so I guessed that maybe you were taking time for yourself?”

“I was trying—” he whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks.

Harry nodded, “I wanted to come to you when I knew you could have me fully...no baggage this time.”

“Did I just ruin that?” You asked, brushing a thumb under his eye.

He lets out a soft laugh, pressing your hand to his face, “I feel ready...but if you need more time, I understand...I can wait...”

“Harry, I’ve been waiting...” You laugh out.

He smiles, those cute dimples dipping, “I’m in love with you...”

The words hang in the air between you, crystalline and fragile, and your breath catches in your throat. Time seems to stop as the confession washes over you—words you’ve imagined hearing countless times during lonely nights when memories of him were all you had.

The vulnerability in his voice makes your heartache, the slight tremor revealing how terrified he is of your reaction. Tears spring to your eyes, not from sadness but from the overwhelming relief of finally hearing what you’ve known in your heart all along. You reach up to trace the curve of his jaw, memorizing the feel of him beneath your fingertips as if he might disappear.

The longing that’s lived inside you these past months—that hollow, persistent ache—begins to dissolve, replaced by something warm and certain. Everything you’ve been holding back floods forward: the sleepless nights, the times you nearly called, the constant wondering if he felt the same emptiness you did.

“Harry, I fucking love you...I never stopped loving you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “Not for a single day.”

The words feel both monumental and entirely inadequate to describe the vastness of what you feel for him. But when his eyes light up, when his smile breaks across his face like dawn, you know he understands.

This vulnerable truth between you—it’s a beginning, not an ending. A promise, not just of passion, but of something deeper, something lasting. Whatever happened before, whatever mistakes were made, you both know this is where you belong.

That this is where you both truly begin.

Taglist: @sassamanda77 @panini @unfuckwitablenarry @triski73 @haleyannaw @dipmeinhoneyh @angeldavis777 @matildasatellite @cendrineee @prettygurl-2009 @harry2121 @fangirl509east @bethiegurl19 @lizsogolden

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[oh-no-its-bird]

Obkk modern au where where Kakashi and Obito are online friends who have never seen eachothers faces. It's a years long friendship (and mutual silent crush) where they've helped eachother through what was truly the darkest parts of eachothers lives.

But irl they also happen to know eachother from childhood due to having gone to the same schools and shared the same classes, and they fucking DESPISE the other. You can not stick them in a room without someone starting a fight.

When they interact irl, play into specifically the early dynamics of obkk, with kind of superficially happy/dumb Obito and a "follow the rules to the letter" grumpy overachiever Kakashi

But when they're online, play more into the older obkk dynamic.

Where Obito shows that he has a pretty big mean streak/humor and a serious talent for playing dumb; where he overlays his happier side irl for just social reasons.

While Kakashi shows he's actually super lazy and imperfect with most other factors of his life outside of work/school (and ofc downplays his actual work ethic when it comes to work/school, framing himself as doing bare minimum when he should really do more (bc he genuinley believes that)) and has a pretty wicked sense of humor himself, a love of over-romantic, fluffy porn, and a habit of using endless "cute" emotocons

Kk: Did my proposal today, it was so bad... I really slacked off this time on it. I was so nervous they'd tell me no (｡﹏｡")

Kk: I guess the other presentations must have been pretty bad too because they picked mine anyways? I feel so lucky (╥﹏╥)

Ob: it's ok even if you tried your best!! Im proud you were able to do even as much as you did.

Ob: I'm glad you got it, at least one of us won their proposal today. That jackass had a fucking 30 slide detailed slide with 6 DIFFERENT PIE CHARTS and a scheduled water break inbetween. Fucking kissass

Kk: nooo im sorry ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)

Ob: it's whatever. Just glad you got the thing :)

Ob: want me to kill your boss tho.

Kk: lol

Kk: I'll help hide the body ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

And then one day Obito does some sort of very mean prank on Kakashi. And it goes uhh. Badly.

I mean, badly for Kakashi. Obito thinks it went great!

That is till he gets home and finds his best friend for a decade, and crush for even past that decade, texting him about a very specific mean prank that got pulled on them.

Wait. No. Wait. WAIT. FUCK.

So like. Obito is a bit conflicted now. He doesn't know what to really do here??? Like. What if it ruins everything with his best friend??? But also hey best friend why the FUCK are you such a BITCH.

But also also, suddenly Obito is recontextualizing SO many of their interactions— from Kakashi suffering the devistating loss of his father when he was especially annoying, to explanations of why he reacted certain ways. And oh my god Obito is... also a kind of a bitch???

Obito has NO idea what to do and is just swinging so violently back and forth on what are really his only two options.

And sometimes he's like gleefully feeling vindictive bc after arguing with irl Kakashi, online Kakashi is ranting about "that same asshole again" at work, so Obito is like "I KNEW it was getting to u, haha you're NOT better than me after all!!!"

But then later he feels kinda bad about it bc like. Aw wait no he actually might have genuinley hurt the person he loves. And also he doesn't want to lose getting to see the real Kakashi, a mix of both of his masks, by fucking this up and choosing wrong.

Anyways Kakashi finally somehow figures it out on his own, they fight, they make up, they make out.

The end yay happy ending

There's an alternate universe where neither of them every found out about eachother and continued to be friends online and hate eachother to escalating degrees offline. But one day they start to slowly shift in dynamics. Irl they get closer and online they get so much angrier and more distant. Till we've swapped and now online they just have this GIANT fallout but offline they're actually in love now. And this continues till they're about to get married/no longer on speaking terms with eachother. And so on their wedding day they reach out again online but ONLY to hate on eachother like "oooo fuck you I'm so happy rn I just got MARRIED."

"Oh yeah you bitch??? So did I. And my husbands better than anything your ugly ass could ever pull"

"FUCK YOU MY HUSBANDS FUCKING AMAZING AND YOURS IS PROBABLY LOOKS AND ACTS LIKE SHIT"

"OH YEAH????"

"YEAH!!!"

"PROVE IT!"

And then they very sharply turn and take simultaneous photos of eachothers furious faces and then angrily, instinctivley press send.

And then they stop. And then they have a moment of dead silence.

And then they begin to have an actual, physical fist fight in front of the uncut wedding cake with ALL of their friends and families watching. And the photographers with their very ready cameras.

There was a lot of cake.

Yeah that was ah uhh. Interesting

The good news at least is now they have a photo of them fist fighting like they want to kill eachother while covered in wedding cake in a frame that says "happy marriage <3" on it, and they like to joke about it (to many, many peoples horror)

The end yay happy ending x2

If I were to write this fr I think I'd legally have to write both versions bc both are excellent

[five-bi-five-mind]

New Addition

Fandom: Marvel

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x fem!Reader

Words: 5.5k+

Genre: Fluff & Smutt

Summary: After things get serious with Wanda, she's finally ready to let you meet the twins. When everything just clicks with all of you, Wanda is even more smitten and so are you. So much so, that she might be getting a little ahead of herself...

Warnings: fingering (r receiving); biting, strap-on use (r receiving); magic strap; mommy kink; praise; pet-names; cum-filled strap; top!Wanda, bottom!r; breeding kink (maybe?); let me know if I forgot things...

A/N: So this was a request I received on another Wanda fic of mine posted to AO3... figured I'd run with it. Also kinda hate both the name and the gif I came up with for this fic but oh well... anyways, yay 1k celebrationnnnn

Another New Addition (Part 2)

“You did so good with them,” Wanda said with a soft smile. Her back pressed against the door as you walked further into her bedroom. “They absolutely loved you.” 

“I loved them too.” You returned her smile before turning around and taking in her room. Never had you stepped foot in here. You were honestly giddy just being in her home and taking in her surroundings, but now to finally be in her bedroom, a place that was so private and intimate to her… Well, you were over the moon.

In fact, you could probably say that you were glowing. In the six months that you had been with Wanda, you both decided to take things relatively slow. Any nights alone with her were spent at your apartment, not hers. You were totally okay with that. With Wanda having two boys, you knew what a big step it was to introduce you to them. That was always the plan though. Wanda had discussed it with you in detail. Once things got serious, if they got serious, you’d be slowly and gently integrated into their family dynamic. 

And of course, things got serious. What with Wanda blurting out how much she loved you within the first three months of your relationship and you immediately returning that sentiment with teary eyes. Still, you spent three months adjusting to that new development before you even thought about meeting her kids.

But then it finally came time to see them. Wanda approached you with a smile on her face, the one she got whenever she wanted something, and you willingly listened to her plea. Maybe the idea of meeting them utterly terrified you, but only because you knew how important it was for you to bond with them. You prepared yourself for some awkwardness, maybe even a little rejection from them at first. Lucky for you, you didn’t even need to worry at all. 

They were hesitant at first, but so were you. Wanda nudged the three of you along for maybe the first hour of meeting each other, but then it was like everything fell into place. It helped that deep inside you were kind of a big nerd. When they talked about their interests you immediately jumped in. That led Tommy to immediately beg for you to see all their stuff and Billy to tug you through the house until you reached their room. They then proceeded to give you a tour of what was quite possibly all of the items they ever owned. You nodded excitedly as they each took turns explaining just about everything in their possession and that just added to their excitement too. It felt like maybe minutes went by, but in reality over an hour had passed. 

Wanda, the whole time, just stood back and watched with the brightest smile glued to her face. The amount of pride and love she had for her boys was so evident in everything she did, but you didn’t have to see to know that. The way she would talk about them for hours with so much happiness in her voice had already told you as much, and you loved to listen to her talk about her family. Anytime she did, you couldn’t stop yourself from daydreaming about being added to their dynamic. It didn’t help that her love for you was also just as evident, making it easier for you to rationalize how easily you could fit in with the three of them. And as Wanda watched with delight at how fast you all clicked, she was filled with those same daydreams you often had. 

When it was rounding on three hours of you and the boys just spending time together, she finally broke the three of you out of your moment. It was probably important for all of you to eat even if you were just as disappointed as the twins when the three of you were torn from their extra detailed room tour. Wanda had to bite her lip to hold back a cheeky grin when she saw you following the boys out of their room with a matching pout. 

What really won you points with them was your insistence on pizza instead of Wanda putting in even more effort to orchestrate this perfect night with a fancy home-cooked dinner. She already worked so hard, she didn’t need to prepare some sort of three course meal too. Plus, the boys were over the moon for the idea of pizza and even more so when you said your favorite toppings were the same as theirs.

After full stomachs and more exciting conversation over just about everything the twins loved, you all settled with a movie. The movie was probably the hardest thing to pay attention to. The boys curled up on one side of the room, their eyes glued to whatever action scenes were unfolding on the screen. You weren’t really sure what the plot was and you didn’t even remember the movie title, not when Wanda had you wrapped up in her arms. 

It was all honestly very innocent. You leaned back on Wanda and she pulled a blanket over you both. Her fingers were innocently running up and down your arms as the movie went on, and while it was nothing inappropriate, it still made your heart race at the intimacy of it all. How could you pay attention to the movie when you were wrapped in the arms of the woman you loved and felt like you were instantly accepted into her family? You couldn’t remember the last time you were this happy. 

As the movie continued, you looked across the room at her two boys who were slowly falling asleep while trying and failing to remain focused on the screen. There was a soft smile on your lips that had practically never left since the moment Wanda got comfy with you on the couch. As silly as it might be, you couldn’t help but think that you could get used to this. Your mind wandered to the idea of having weekly evenings like this, quietly spending time with Wanda and her family until they all finally saw you as their family too. Never had you wanted something more strongly than for this night to become a regular occurrence. Maybe it was too fast. After all, you just met the boys and you’ve been dating Wanda for less than a year, but something inside you just said that all of this was right. It was a gut feeling that told you this is exactly where you were supposed to be. With Wanda, helping raise the boys if she’d let you, and spending every day of the rest of your life loving the three of them with everything you had.

You rubbed at your eyes, feeling a little sappy for the tears that welled there from the realization of just how perfect everything was. Wanda took your movement as a sign that maybe you were just as sleepy as the boys, whispering in your ear if maybe the four of you should finish the movie another night. Wanda didn’t buy it when you shook your head and tried to convince her you weren’t that sleepy. 

Of course, no matter how convincing you were, the boys really were not. They were struggling to keep their eyes open, their little heads nodding back onto the couch every few minutes before they jostled themselves awake. While they weren’t in love with the idea of calling the night early, Wanda was so good with them and convincing that they eventually agreed. What really got to you, in a good way, was that Wanda promised you’d be back for another night like this and that’s what finally eased their minds enough to agree to tuck in for bed. 

After she had them all tucked in, they were both in a deep sleep within minutes. You hung back while Wanda got them ready for bed, but you heard the way she cooed at them and cared for them as they settled into bed. While she was doing that, you were sitting alone, waiting for her to guide you to her bedroom. It was at this point in the night that anxiousness crept back in. Both of you had talked about it and planned for this to also be the first time you were to sleep over at her house too. There had been plenty of times where Wanda had got a sitter overnight and stayed with you, but this still felt very new. It was a big deal, and you were getting a little in your head about it.

Eventually, Wanda returned to you, slipping her hand in yours and pulling you towards her bedroom. Her soft smile matched the one you had worn earlier and you tried to match it, but nerves were getting the best of you. If Wanda noticed, she didn’t say much. She just introduced you to her room and motioned for you to walk in before she followed behind you.

And now, here you both were. Her smile was large as she praised you for the day and your nerves had momentarily left your body as you beamed proudly back at her.

They really did seem to get along well with you and it was so important for both you and Wanda that that happened. It was like a dream come true honestly, to be so quickly accepted by her kids and to so quickly accept them too. You were excited about what the future could bring, if the four of you could truly be one big happy family like you hoped. It had been one evening, but suddenly you found yourself wanting that future more than anything else you’ve ever wanted in your entire life. As Wanda smiled back at you, you thought maybe you could confidently guess that she wanted the exact same. 

“Was it too presumptuous of me to promise the boys another family night?” Wanda looked at you with the most hopeful eyes as she spoke.

Family Night. Those words made your heart flutter. It really did seem like Wanda felt what you were feeling about the whole evening. It was like this meant-to-be connection between all of you. You knew Wanda was the one for you the moment you two met, and Wanda had hinted that the feeling was mutual too. Now, since you’ve met her family, that same gut feeling was even stronger. It felt like, not only was Wanda meant to be your person, but the three of them were meant to be your family too. 

“No, no, no.” You were maybe too eager to convince Wanda you were more than happy with that. “It wasn’t too presumptuous.”

Wanda pushed herself off from where she was leaning on her bedroom door. In a few steps, she was suddenly in front of you, her arms wrapped around you and pulling you into a tight embrace. 

“Really?” She smiled and you nodded enthusiastically. Her lips pressed to yours in a gentle, but brief kiss. 

“I’d love to do it again,” you said against her lips, leaning back in for more. “And again…” you kissed her once. “And again…” you kissed her once more. “And again.”

Wanda pulled back to look at you, her smile so contagious it made you forget all about your nervousness that you had just moments ago. “I’m so glad you’re finally here.” Wanda pressed her forehead to yours as she spoke. She placed her hands on either of your cheeks and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into her touch. “I’ve been picturing this since the day I met you and it was all so perfect. You’re perfect.”

You closed your eyes as she spoke such sweet words to you. It was all making you so incredibly happy that you were at a loss for words. Your hands came up to cover Wanda’s and you turned your head to kiss the palm of one of her hands. She hummed softly to herself for a second, her forehead still pressed to yours.

You both stayed like that for a moment, basking in how happy and in love both of you were. One of the biggest things about tonight, other than being accepted by the two most important people in Wanda’s life, was that all of this just made your love for her even stronger. Wanda, of course, felt the exact same way. 

As she watched you, she was in awe of how good you were with them. It was almost like you slipped into a role she had never seen from you, but had hoped was there or would develop over time. As the boys talked to you about their interests and their lives, you showed this almost maternal side; one that knew how to respond to even the silliest of things they said to you. And then you also had this goofy, friendly side to you that matched her boys’ energy so perfectly, it was like a match made in heaven. As Wanda watched you throughout the night, she couldn’t imagine a better partner to integrate into her family dynamic. 

When the movie was playing, Wanda was filled with daydreams of what making you a permanent part of her family would look like. The evenings you’d spend with her and the twins, the adventures you’d all go on, the fun and love you’d share. To Wanda, those daydreams felt very possible to actualize and she planned to do so. Wanda knew, when she first met you, that you would be someone good for her boys, and she felt even more validated as the evening went on.

As Wanda was promising the boys that you would be back, she was consumed with thoughts of how fast she really could convince you to take more steps into a bigger commitment with her. There were quick little thoughts that popped into her mind about proposing, asking you to move in, talking to you about future building in a more real and permanent sense. She had a small worry that she was moving too fast. Not in a way that she thought things between the two of you would go bad, but just that she didn’t want to bombard you with so much so quickly. Except, these little thoughts about a future with you got bigger and louder as she pulled you to her bedroom. In the short walk it took to drag you through her halls, she started having ideas about even expanding the family with you. Seeing you not only become a co-parent to her twins, but carrying and being a mother to another child of hers. 

That last idea was even stronger when she finally had her arms around you in the privacy of her own bedroom. She was getting ahead of herself with all of these images of you becoming her wife and her coming home to you, her boys, and possibly a new addition to her family. The thought of you and her creating a new life together was starting to intrigue her. Maybe a little too much… 

Wanda leaned into you again, placing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The kind that had you leaning forward for more when she pulled away. She let out a soft laugh at your actions, but continued to deny you another kiss to your lips. Instead, she pressed hers to your cheek and then your other, showering you with soft kisses all over your face and enjoying the warmth she felt rise on your skin from her actions. 

You couldn’t stop your smile from growing as she treated you with such tenderness. Your heart raced as she moved her lips to jaw and then cupped your chin to tilt your head and press her lips to your pulse point. She trailed her lips down your neck then, with feather light kisses as she went. Her hands moved down to encircle your waist again and press the two of you even closer together. Your head swam at the feeling of her lips on you and being engulfed in her warmth. She really was perfect for you. It was like she knew exactly how to make you melt in the palm of her hand. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Wanda murmured against your neck, her teeth lightly nibbling at the skin there. Your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of her lips on your neck and you hummed an incoherent response. “I love you so much,” Wanda continued, her lips moving back up to your own before placing another kiss to them.

“And I love you,” You whispered into the kiss. Wanda kissed you again at that, but this time a little harder. The kiss was slow, but she was moving her lips against yours in such a way that had you already feeling drunk on them alone. Your lips parted and Wanda’s tongue peeked out, running against yours ever so slightly, but just enough to cause you to shiver. And then, all too soon she pulled away, leaving you breathless in her wake. 

“I’ve been working on something I want to try…” Wanda’s voice was quiet as she pulled back slightly. You’ve seen a lot of sides of Wanda, but this one was a little new. It almost seemed like she was shy, nervous even, for whatever she had in mind. 

You met her eyes, giving her a gentle smile while you waited for her to continue. The arms around you moved, hands slipping underneath your shirt to press flat to your back. She ran her hands up slowly as she nibbled on her lip, you could tell she was hesitant about what she would say next. 

“Wanda,” you urged. “What is it?” You let out a soft, nervous giggle. Whatever she had in mind had you excited already, but the way she was being so withholding about it made waiting for the reveal a little anxiety inducing. 

“Do you trust me?” Her eyes sparkled as she leaned back in. 

“Of course,” you said breathlessly, waiting for her lips to press against yours once more. This time when they did, her hands pressed your body fully against her own when your lips met. The way she kissed you had your head spinning. It wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t gentle. It was hungry.

When you parted your lips for her, she licked into your mouth and you couldn’t help the soft moan that broke free. This only egged Wanda on further, moving her hands until she was pulling your shirt up and then completely off. In the moment that her actions broke the kiss you took a deep breath before Wanda’s lips smashed back into yours. Your hands tangled in her hair and you pressed yourself against her as if any minuscule amount of space was too much for you. 

“Are you sure?” Wanda mumbled against your lips, but you were too lost in hers to respond. 

Wanda pulled her head back and chuckled at the pout that followed after. “Baby, are you sure?” Wanda asked again, to which you fervently nodded. “Will you let me try something, then?”

“Anything,” you mumbled.

“Good…” Wanda trailed off before pushing you to walk backwards until your legs hit the foot of the bed. “Sit back for me, pretty girl.” You did as you were told, your face flushed a darker shade of pink from her use of pet names. 

Wanda leaned down over you as you scooted yourself onto the bed, hooking her hands into your belt loops. You knew what she wanted and one hand quickly went to unbutton your jeans before she gave them a hard yank towards her. With some awkward maneuvering, you helped her get them all the way off your body, along with your panties, and then looked up expectantly at her. 

Her clothes met yours on her bedroom floor. Both of you stood still for second, each taking in the other’s naked form. Wanda was gorgeous, standing there in nothing in front of you and she thought the same as you sat propped up on her bed. 

After a moment, Wanda lifted her hand up and you watched as she briefly flicked her fingers. Then, when her eyes moved down her own body, yours followed and your eyes practically bugged out of your head. Okay, this was something new. 

Between her legs, attached with straps, was a dark red dildo. It wasn’t small, but you didn’t think it was necessarily too big either. It wasn’t like you weren’t interested in trying this with Wanda, it was just that you two hadn’t even talked about introducing toys in the bedroom yet and suddenly, with a literal snap of her fingers, it was there in front of you. 

Wanda looked back up at you, a subtle swirl of red shining in her eyes. “Is this okay?” Wanda flicked her eyes back down to the toy between her legs before looking up at you again. 

Your mouth went dry, trying to find the words to tell her yes; it was more than okay. But you were also nervous with anticipation for her to finally touch you and use it. You swallowed hard. “Y-yeah,” you struggled, “it is.”

Wanda’s smile turned a little predatory as she took a step towards the bed again. She felt so proud of you, seeing how willing you were to do this with her. You were nervous, Wanda could tell, but she had a feeling once you both tried this it would soon become a favorite for both of you. 

She crawled onto the bed, her naked form hovering over yours and you gulped at the proximity. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been like this with Wanda before, it’s just that there was never the addition of what was in between her legs in the mix. 

Wanda kissed your lips again, long and lingering, before she moved to kiss down your chest. Her hands ran from your chest, fingers dancing across your nipples, until they moved further down. She brushed the tips of her fingers across your skin with such gentleness, leaving goosebumps in their wake, until finally she reached between your legs. Her fingers met your wetness already, the kisses she gave mixed with the perfection that is her body had you already in need of her touch. When the tips of her fingers brushed your clit, a shiver ran through your body, and when they repeated their feather light touch, Wanda reveled in the fact that your body reacted so easily to her. 

Lips kissed back up to your neck and a hand pressed to your sternum until you were finally fully laying back on the bed. Your head tilted back to let Wanda run her tongue down the most sensitive parts of the flesh there. By this time, Wanda had started to steadily circle your clit with her fingers, causing soft, breathy sighs to fall from your lips. 

The excitement of all of this was getting to her. To say it was hard to wait, was an understatement. Wanda was so floored by your reactions and couldn’t wait to try what she had planned for you. If you were already this worked up from light touches, she could only anticipate how you’d react when she was inside you in a way she hadn’t been before. But still, she needed to go slow, prepare you. She didn’t want to break you after all. 

Her fingers ran down your folds, tracing your entrance before slowly dipping two in. You let out a gasp that was only made louder by the way Wanda moved to your chest and took a nipple into her mouth. Her tongue ran over your nipples, switching between the two, as she pumped her fingers into you at a leisurely pace. Whines were filling the room and she knew you were frustrated with how slow she was touching you. It seemed you both were excited for the main event. 

When your hips started to move with her fingers, Wanda could tell this was your pathetic attempt to make yourself cum. Her free hand went straight to your hip, her grip a bit harsh as she forced your body to still on the mattress. “Shhh, baby, not yet,” she purred. “You’re not going to cum on my fingers tonight.”

You huffed in frustration and Wanda pulled her fingers all the way out. That had you really whiny. Wanda bit her lip to try to hide the smug smile that tugged on her lips, half considering to tease you for awhile before she really started to fuck you. But then again, she was too excited to wait any longer. 

Sitting back on the bed, Wanda moved your legs until she was between them with either of them hooked over her hips. She sat there for a moment, admiring the sight before her. She knew you were wet from how she was already touching you, but to see your pussy drip with your wetness made her mouth water. 

“Wanda…” you pleaded after a moment passed and Wanda continued to just hungrily stare. 

She snapped out of it with your plea, her hand moving to wrap around the deep red toy before lining it up with your entrance. “This isn’t just a toy. It’s magic,” Wanda said, her body still with the tip of it barely pushing into you. “I’ll be able to feel you.” 

It took you a moment to register what she meant, but she didn’t really give you a moment. Her hips pressed forward and you felt her enter you completely. “Oh!” You moaned as you felt your walls stretch around her. 

Wanda groaned as she entered you, her eyes squeezing shut. She was trying to take in deep breaths, trying to restrain herself, but dear god the feeling of you was intoxicating. 

Your head fell back down onto the pillow as Wanda rolled her hips, her cock hitting deep inside you. She had a hold of your hips as your legs were still propped on hers, it gave her the best angle to hit deeper. The way she could feel every inch of the toy inside your pussy had her head swimming.

Wanda tried to start at a slow pace, she really did, but with each pump of her hips you let out an adorable whimper and she felt your pussy practically twitch around her. It was all too much. With your legs still hooked to her, Wanda fell forward onto the mattress, your bodies pressed together, with her hands barely holding her up. With this position, your legs hooked over her waist, Wanda could fuck you deeper and all her restraint broke.

“Holy shi-“ Wanda cut herself off with a low moan. The way her body was moving against yours had your head spinning, her pace increasing more and more. “I knew- fuck- I knew it would feel good, but not this fucking good.” 

Wanda’s hips were rolling into you in such a way that your whole body rocked back with the power of her thrusts. One hand grabbed onto the forearm by your head. Your nails dug into her skin as she kept pulling her cock almost all the way out of you just to slam it back in. She definitely wasn’t being gentle with you anymore and you couldn’t begin to care. The force of her cock pumping into you had your whole body deliciously shaking.

Wanda was barely holding herself up as it is, but when your pussy started tightening around her cock she couldn’t keep it up. She was fully pressed against you, quite literally fucking you into the mattress. Her face was tucked into the side of your neck as her hands flew back to your hips, moving your body into hers so she could grind you onto her cock while she fucked you. 

Your hand flew to your mouth, balled in a fist. Your teeth dug into your knuckles to try to muffle any sounds that were coming out of you, while Wanda hid her groans of pleasure into your neck. “You feel so fucking good,” Wanda growled in your ear as the force of her thrusts increased. “You’re gonna cum on mommy’s cock, okay princess?”

The way she was talking was also new, but it just added to your building orgasm. You nodded desperately, helpless to do anything but let her continue to fuck into you with abandon. 

“I’m gonna cum inside you,” she groaned. “Wouldn’t you like that? Let mommy cum inside you, paint your pretty pussy with my cum. Tell me you want my cum.”

“Y-yes please,” you stammered. 

Her movements were becoming more erratic and as you were approaching your edge, you knew she was too. The way your pussy was squeezing her tight, mixed with the way you struggled to stay quiet was too much for her. Wanda came and she came hard, her teeth digging into your neck to muffle her moans. 

The second she came you felt her cum hit your walls. A gasp was barely muffled when your own orgasm hit you. The surprising feeling of her warm cum inside you mixed with the sting of her bite had your body quake and tears well in your eyes at the sheer power of your orgasm. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Wanda groaned into your neck, her hips continuing to move and fuck her cum into you. The way she felt your orgasm had her cum again, filling your pussy up and prolonging your own orgasm. 

When you finally came down your body slumped onto the bed, your eyes shut tight as you tried to catch your breath. Wanda pressed her head to your chest, listening to your racing heartbeat as she tried to calm down from her own orgasms. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered in wonder. That was intense. She drew from you what was probably the most powerful orgasm of your life. 

“Yeah, oh my god.” Wanda let out a breathless laugh. Wanda pulled out of you after a moment, a shiver running through your body as she did. 

She sat back up, her cum dripping from your entrance. You continued to lay on the bed, still utterly spent as Wanda trailed her fingers down your thighs. “You look so pretty with my cum dripping down your thighs,” she whispered to herself more than to you. You just hummed, your eyes still shut as you tried to calm your breathing.  “Wonder how many times until it takes…”

You perked up at that, your eyes opening to glance at Wanda. “What do you mean?” You were more curious than worried about her odd remark. 

“I said it was magic…” Wanda trailed off, her fingers continuing to idly trace across your skin. “You’d look so beautiful carrying my child.”

“Wanda…” You sat up fully at this. The look you gave her told her you were feeling hesitant now, but Wanda just met your eyes with a soft smile.

“Don’t worry.” Her fingers stilled as she spoke. “I’m still figuring it out, nothing should happen this time. It took me a while just to conjure up something I could feel. To create life with it intentionally will take work. I don’t think I’m there yet.”

There was a lot of interesting wording in that, but you chose to ignore it. After all, it wasn’t even a couple hours ago that you were thinking similar thoughts about being a part of and maybe even expanding Wanda’s family. If she was really worried about that sort of risk she would’ve told you up front. At least, you hoped so. 

In truth, Wanda really wasn’t sure. She thought, as far as she knew, what she was saying was true. If she was being honest with herself, she probably should’ve given more thought to the whole ordeal and what consequences might come after, but when Wanda had this idea in her mind she was just too excited to postpone it. The sheer need to feel you as she fucked you and to be able to actually cum inside you was too overwhelming. She didn’t want to wait another minute after tonight, so threw caution to the wind. 

If there are results that come after this night, while she seriously doubted it, she did technically tell you it was magic before you two started. Hopefully, you had some understanding of the unpredictability of things like that. Although, the two of you were already on the same page. Neither of you would mind these repercussions, despite the short time you’ve been together. Wanda knew you were meant to be hers, meant to be in this family, so why not solidify it?

“Can we…” You bit your lip for a moment, a blush creeping to your cheeks again as Wanda waited for you to continue. “Can we try it again?”

Wanda’s grin was dazzling as she happily agreed.

Repercussions be damned. 

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[achilles-rage]

20 from the smut prompt list with buck pls :)

yay soft sex!! i feel like i don't write enough of that<333 (and picturing that with buck is😵‍💫😵‍💫)

number 20 from this post: "gentle comforting sex"

you knew something was wrong when buck came home from work. his usual smile was nowhere to be seen, and he looked deflated; shoulders dropped and head hung in a silent plead for comfort.

you led him right to the table and placed a dinner plate in front of him; knowing when he gets like this, he never remembers to eat. when you're both finished dinner, you lead him upstairs to bed. it's already late, and you figure he could use some sleep, if not some cuddles.

you help him out of his clothes and into some sweatpants, and then after you change into an oversized shirt, you crawl into bed beside him.

"do you want to talk about it?" you ask him softly, letting him rest his head on your chest and wrap an arm around your plush middle. you reach up and run your fingers through his hair, hoping that some tender touches will do the trick.

"not really." he murmurs, nuzzling his face against your chest, and you nod slowly with a quiet hum.

"what do you want me to do, my love?" you ask, voice just above a whisper. you kiss his forehead as you wait for him to respond, and then he lifts his head, chin resting on your chest as he looks up at you.

"lay with me?" he whispers. you smile sadly, tilting your head to the side as you move your hand from his hair to his cheek, thumb caressing his skin.

"baby, i'm already laying with you." you tell him, and he finally smiles, just slightly, and just for a split second.

he shakes his head as he moves off of you and rolls onto his back, looking over at you expectantly once his head is comfortably on his pillow.

"lay with me." he says again, and you finally understand what he means.

you get up and straddle his lap, then lay your head down on his chest, letting your weight rest on him as his hands come up to your thick thighs.

you know he finds comfort in laying like this; feeling your weight on him and your warm breath hitting his chest. so, you stay put, letting his hands move over your thighs, and your hips, and up your sides, trying to calm himself down.

"kiss me. please." you hear him whisper after a while, voice full of vulnerability.

you lift your head to look at him, then smile as you bring your lips down to his, cupping his cheeks as you kiss him tenderly.

he responds immediately, deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue past your lips and into your mouth as his grip tightens on your hips.

"need you." he whispers against your lips, kissing you fervently, like you're the only thing that can help him right now.

"what do you need, baby?" you whisper, pulling back to look down at him. you see the neediness in his eyes right away, and your own soften. seeing him like this breaks your heart.

"need you." he says again, pulling your hips down hard against his, letting you feel his hard length pushing against your clothed centre.

"you sure, sweetheart?" you ask him, letting him pull you down, but not moving your hips yet.

"please. i need to feel you." he practically begs, firm grip starting to move your hips in a gentle rocking motion against him.

you nod as you begin to move with his hands, letting out a breathy exhale as you feel him pressing against your clit.

"baby, please." he says again, growing impatient. he needs to feel you now. he can't wait any longer, and you couldn't say no even if you wanted to.

you lift your hips off of him and pull his hard cock from his sweats, pumping him a few times before you push your panties to the side and sink onto him.

he lets out a soft hiss at the feeling of you stretching around him, taking his entire length as he grips your hips tightly.

you lean down to kiss him deeply as you begin to move your hips, swallowing every moan that escapes his lips. you can feel the way his entire body relaxes as you roll your hips against his, and it urges you on, desperate to see his usual, happy self again.

his chest feels tight as he helps you move against him; his body craves your touch, needs the reassurance that you're here with him, and you always will be.

"i love you." you murmur against his lips, feeling the familiar feeling in the pit of your belly as you feel him twitch inside of you.

"i love you- so much." he rasps, moving one hand down to your clit, rubbing lazy circles with his fingers. your sweet boy, you think, even when he needs the comfort, he's still worried about your pleasure.

"don't stop, baby." you pull back from his lips, looking down at him as you move a little quicker.

"i won't, baby, i promise." you tell him, relishing in his shaky moans and low grunts.

"god, i need you." he mumbles, looking up at you as if you're the only thing in the world. he's mesmerized as you move, and he helps with your actions, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips while the other focuses on your clit.

"you have me, honey. you always have me." you purr, leaning down to kiss down his neck to his chest, lips pressing hot kisses to every freckle and scar.

"need you, ahh- need you-" he rasps, his sentence being cut short as he cums, his entire body trembling with the intensity of his release.

you follow suit, whimpering softly against his skin as you feel him fill you up to the brim. you slow your hips to a stop, keeping him tucked inside you as you both come down from your highs.

he keeps a firm hold on you as you continue to kiss the expanse of his chest, as if you'll slip away from him if his grip lets up at all, and when you feel his breathing go back to normal, you lift off of him slowly.

"are you okay, my love?" you ask gently, looking down at him struggling to keep his eyes open.

"better." he tells you earnestly, opening his eyes just long enough to look into yours.

"good." you reply, smiling to yourself as his eyes close again and he drifts off to sleep.

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 9.5*

AN: The poll isn't over juuussst yet but I'm pretty sure of what is gonna win, so here we are <3 I do appreciate those voting for Roo's choice! Kissing your foreheads so softly rn /platonic So I kind of split the diff, you know? This was my choice was this part right here. Bc it makes me laugh. We get more MBC too, since I'm also going to start Part 10! Yay! Then I'll get back to requests! So, you'll get this today, then maybe part 10 either later tonight (Probably Tomorrow), then on Thursday I'll start requests again since Wednesday is my rest day!

ALSO also, people are figuring out my little clues and like I'm so proud of all of us. We're killing it, y'all are great at picking up the small nuances, Kissing you so gently on the forehead right now.

ALSO ALSO, also, I think the general consensus was that it's okay to give Reader a tail? I might hold off just for now to see if any objections come from it, but if there are none come part 11, I'll add it permanently! For this chapter, it's just a trial run! It's totally okay too if thats not something you guys want too, let me preface! If it turns out you guys try it, hate it, and want it gone I can come back and edit this part! Hence the "*" in the title!

Part One -> Part Two -> Part Three -> Part Four -> Part Five -> Part Six -> Part Six 1/2 -> Part Seven -> Part Eight -> Part Nine

Warnings: None, really, except for some of my personal ships. I don't wanna see any debate about them, this is mostly my preferences.

☁ He's watching you.

☁ He's watching you and you know it. You're momentarily ignoring it as you're elbow deep in the cookie jar, newly filed nails just barely brushing against a cookie at the very bottom. It makes you huff in annoyance at it before you're moving to kneel on the counter, hoping to reach further into the frankly too-larger-to-be-normal cookie jar. It just evades you're hand once more, and your tail gives a whip in annoyance.

☁ You would use the additional limb, but you've gotten in trouble more times than you could count with using your tail in the kitchen. Something about it getting too close to the Twisteds for it to be sanitary at all. You rolled your eyes at that, but since returning from your time as a Twisted, for a second time, you obeyed where you could.

☁ All while he's watching you struggle, hiding a poorly concealed snicker behind his blanket. It makes you huff once more before finally getting a finger on the cookie, making you grin. You hook it to the side, gently dragging it up so you can grab it, only for it to crumble.

☁ You let out a cry, retracting your cookie-less hand to stare in the jar, bewildered at the absolute audacity.

☁ This time he can't stop the laugh that spills out of him, making you glare at him. "You could've helped."

☁ "I could've." Astro agrees, standing from his chair, where he has a glass of milk and his own trio of cookies on a plate in front of him. "But where's the fun in that?"

☁ He walks over to the cookie jaw and reaches a longer arm in, making your tail wag behind you as you watch him grab one of the larger chunks of your broken treat. You quickly grab your set aside plate and hold it out for him to set the piece on the plate. One by one, every piece is set on the plate before he's pulling his arm back and putting the lid back on. It's flipped upside down so the top of the jar is facing the inside, signifying it's empty.

☁ With so many toons living in one area, it was easy for small things like an empty cookie jar to make tensions rise, so small things like that just made everything flow so much easier.

☁ You thank Astro with a happy little kiss, making him hum contentedly at your actions before you're both returning to the table. You have your own cup of milk as well, both of you picking up the tradition of a pre-bedtime snack a few months back. Or so you thought that's when it started.

☁ For Astro, this had always been the two of you's thing. Sprout and Cosmo baked, himself and Sprout went through old episodes together and the other handler rooms, even Cosmo and himself had scary movie nights. Everyone had their thing with each other, and cookies in the kitchen late at night was yours and his. This was the first place you told him about the Teagan and Rodger tension, which had grown exponentially. And as much as he tried to pretend he wasn't, he was a huge gossip.

☁ The familiar action of just you and him talking about everything going on, debriefing if one would, was something he held so dear and close to his chest, and he's sure you knew it too as you would never let more than three days pass before shaking him awake with a cheeky grin, nodding to the doorway.

☁ It reminded him of when he came back in all honesty. Never would that Astro ever have thought he would've been where he is now, with you and Cosmo and Sprout and Blu and everyone back, but as he is now, he would rather turn into a twisted again then give it up.

☁ His own tail gave a wag as he slid one of his cookies onto your plate, giving you The Look when you tried giving it back. You took it with a humored rool of your eyes, before rewrapping yourself in your own blanket, crossing your legs on your chair as you settled in.

☁ The lights were down low and gave your cheeks the softest orange tint and your eyes the softest of amber highlights. It made his tail wag at the sight of it, the silly thing giving away all of his emotions before he even had the chance to stop it.

☁ "So," You begin, folding your hands in front of you like it's a business meeting. "Check-in. How is Mr. Novalite doing?"

☁ He guffaws at the drop of his name, but copies your seated postion anyway with one pair of hands holding his blanket while the other twists with his tail to stop it from wagging like a lunatic. "I'm...content. Honestly. Sprout and I found some more sealed documents in Delilah's old room and are planning on looking through those soon. Cosmo and I have plans to watch that new Heretic movie that just came out. You and I are having our own date night. Plus, I know we all have a big date night coming up. Did you and Cosmo decide on what you wanted to do?"

☁ You nod, grinning happily as your own tail gives a wag. "Spa treatments then a movie night! We have it all planned out and ready to go, with a few special treats ordered for the night!"

☁ Your excitement is palpable and contagious, so much so Astro has to tighten his hold on his own tail, even if the moon at the end continues to move regardless. "That sounds perfect." He gives a sappy grin. "Other than that, myself and Shelly started a new book Brightney recommended to us, so we've been doing that to reconnect. And I think...that's really it from my end."

☁ You soften at the new information, leaning on one of your hands as your elbow settles on the table. "You sound happy."

☁ "I am. Immensely." He returns, reaching a hand. You give your free one eagerly, letting him hold it and trace his thumb over the knuckles of your hand. "Now, what about you? You've been busy."

☁ You nod, watching his thumb before thinking back to what you've been doing lately. "Well, Cosmo and I have started getting into art lately. We spent last night painting with music in the background, and it was nice. We got to talk without really thinking about it-oh, by the way, we decided you would be the boot in monopoly."

☁"...The boot." He has to take a second, mentally going through the pieces before realizing he never cared enough to know them all.

☁ "Yeah, we originally thought thimble because it sounds like thumb and you have the most thumbs, but it was way funnier if you went with the boot." You explain as if any of that made any sense whatsoever. "Also, did you know he wants like eight kids? Not happening." You scrunch your features before shaking his head. "Like, don't get me wrong, I liked the kids when Gardenview was in it's prime, but eight? All the time?!" You grimace, making him chuckle before your shaking your head.

☁ "Anyway, Sprout and I, what have we been doing?" You think for a second, before perking right up. "A few things! We've been playing games a lot! It started with Mario Kart, and then we found mini-gold clubs on one of the runs and now we set up increasingly difficult holes. It's great! I kick his ass!" You beam. Astro's sure half the problem for Sprout is that the mini-golf clubs made for children are much too short for him, but he doesn't bring that up.

☁ "And with friends, Goob's going through something- which I'll tell you in a second-, but Glisten and I have gotten closer lately. He joined our tag runs recently and he actually kills it! Especially with his teleporting? I don't think he's been tagged once." You explain, raising your head so you could use that hand to gesture as you speak. "We're thinking of doing some sort of Geo-caching too, but it's hard because we can't really leave Gardenview. That's okay though. As for now, I'm here with you, moonshine."

☁ His cheeks dust navy at the compliment, squeezing your hand tighter. "Do you remember the first time we did this?"

☁ You hum, thinking back before nodding. "I think I do. It was before we started dating. I think I remember being pissy because people kept saying Cosmo and I were dating but we weren't. But it wasn't because people were saying it, but because I had a huge stinkin' crush on him at the time and he could not pick up the hint."

☁ He chuckles. "Yeah. I was a little relieved at that you know. I had a 'huge stinkin' crush' on this cute distractor that had come to visit me. Imagine how crushed i would've been." He teases and you stick your tongue out. "Please. You were just as bad. I was doing the same goofy moves to you and Sprout literally within the same week and you didn't pick up on it either."

☁ "Neither of you picked up on anything, don't you fool yourselves." A new voice startles you both, making you look over at the doorway. Sprout is there, raising a brow at you both. Cosmo is hanging off his side, looking like he's seconds away from collapsing, eyes bleary and slowly blinking. Both of you wave at them, even if Sprout's eyes dart to the cookie jar and he gives an exasperated groan. "Again?"

☁ "In our defense, most of this batch were eaten by Goob. He's going through some stuff." You wince, watching as Astro pulls a chair to his side with his foot, close enough they make a soft clink when they hit, opening his blanket the duo. Cosmo takes the invitation, slumping forward as he practically crawls on the chair and burrows into the celestial, who wraps his arms around the cake roll, covering him in his cloak-blanket. At this point, you aren't even sure which it is.

☁ Sprout raises a brow at you, grabbing an apron off the hook and quickly slipping it on as he steps towards the cabinets. "What do you mean? Goob is the last person I'd expect."

☁ "Me too!" You exclaim, gently easing your hand from Astro's so you can turn to the side, making talking to both Sprout and Astro (and Cosmo by extension) easier. "But- Pause. Rewind. What do you know of the Teagan and Rodger drama? I know Astro is caught up because I told him and Cosmo knows because he's been here since it started, but I don't know if any of us have caught you or the other mains up."

☁ "Not much." Sprout responds, pulling out the butter and sugar in practiced motions as you bite into your cookie, nodding as if this was the answer you expected. "What kind of cookies do we want this time?"

☁ "Double chocolate. There's a new cocoa powder-" Cosmo suddenly pipes up, even if his eyes stay shut, interrupting himself with a yawn. "That I ordered specifically for that recipe we were looking at."

☁ Sprout nods at this, preheating the oven as he passes to grab the larger electric mixer. He measures out the butter and two types of sugar before letting them mix, going back to the pantry for the powdered ingredients. "Okay, so what is the reason? Like I know obviously the other day in the elevator there was a nerve hit."

☁ "Yeah," You dip a piece of your broken cookie in your glass of milk. "So I'll start from the beginning. When we first recovered Teagan, her and Rodger were like...inseparable. I mean, they had Toodles, so like we kinda assumed they'd be. Toodles was ecstatic to have them both back too, so we were all like 'great, perfect.' It was not in fact great or perfect." You throw the piece into your mouth as Sprout sifted said cocoa powder, flour and a few other things into a separate bowl.

☁ "It was fine for the first little bit and then we started recovering more and more people, then they began fighting, like a lot. Like more than I would classify as normal for...any couple really. It was silly, small, petty things too like Rodger didn't say good morning to her first." You continued. "He normally said good morning to Toodles first, but he was far from perfect either. I remember once, he like lost his shit because she picked up a research capsule."

☁ "He called her all sorts of names, didn't he?" Cosmo piped in, poking open an eye. You nodded at this. "I wasn't convinced they weren't gonna get physical that run. They were so loud I had to work double time to keep the twisteds occupied as Cosmo had to do twice as many machines."

☁ This made both Sprout and Astro grimace, the latter rubbing the cake roll's shoulder in sympathy even if this was long in the past.

☁ You're thinking momentarily, trying to decipher when it truly turned to shit when it hits you. "It was when Glisten came back that they broke up. Rodger made it this whole thing too in the middle of the run. I don't really blame Glisten as he was unaware of Toodles like...being their kid, we hadn't had the chance to fill him in. He was spending a lot of time with Rodger though, so we just expected him to fill Glisten in. Turns out, he didn't. In retaliation, Teagan started seeing Shrimpo."

☁ Sprout is gaping behind you as he pauses where he's adding an egg to the mixer. He recovers quickly, throwing out the shell before adding vanilla to the mix as well. He turns down the mixing speed before turning to you. "Shimpo? And Teagan?"

☁ You nod, watching Cosmo take one of Astro's cookies, making the Celestial huff at this even if his newly freed tail wags behind him. You grin before turning back to Sprout. "Yeah, trust, we weren't expecting it either. They were also about as explosive as you'd expect. If Teagan and Shrimpo weren't fighting, it was him and Rodger or her and Rodger or all three of them depending on the day. At this point, Glisten was aware he was in a little too deep, but he had fallen hard and fast and didn't know what to do."

☁ "What did he do? I can't expect him to do much in that situation." Astro pipes in, mindlessly handing Cosmo his glass- which the cake roll was reaching for. "And what happened to Toodles?"

☁ "That's what Glisten did." Cosmo steps in, dipping his stolen treat. "He would take Toodles the second this started up and would come to either mine or Y/N's room. His was still being put together and if nothing else, he knew he could trust us to step in if they tried bringing the fight to him. Which they did. It seemed if they were fighting, everyone needed to fight."

☁ "You're joking." Sprout spits, putting down the bowl with the flour mixture he was adding to the mixer. "That's so ridiculous."

☁ "I wish we were." You shrug. "But no. Which is kind of why they hate our relationship so much because we don't fight, and our arguments are often just a matter of temporary disagreement then true hostility." Your tail gives a whip behind you. "It only got physical during this period once. Once was all that was needed though. Shrimpo and Rodger had gotten into it with Teagan instigating, like pouring gas on an electric fire, and Shrimpo snapped, throwing a fist. Toodles saw and Glisten stepped in then while Scraps took Toodles. He was already on the brink, but they didn't break up during that."

☁ "How did they break up?" Sprout asks, now thoroughly entwined in this story. "They aren't together now, as far as I'm aware." He turns back to adding the powdered ingredients and you let him finish before answering.

☁ "Shrimpo and Glisten walked in on Rodger and Teagan." You explain and the bowl is nearly dropped in time with Sprout's jaw. Astro hums at this, having a similar expression when he first heard it. You nod before continuing. "They broke up with them then and there. They didn't take it well and it was this huge thing once more. Runs were absolute agony for the a little while. Glisten, in his defense, absolutely refused to interact with them though. Refused to look at them, talk to them, and I'm pretty sure for a while refused to do runs with them."

☁ The mixer is stopped and scraped as a few cookies sheets are pulled out and prepped, Sprout moving to roll the dough balls out, adding chocolate chips as he does. "When was all this?"

☁ "Right before we got Astro back was when the peak hit. It slowly got better when we got you back, and it's remained a little stagnant. Until recently." You give a devious smirk, knowing all three are hooked onto the information you're about to share. "Let me preface this with saying, everything I tell you I have permission to do so. Goob knows I'm doing this-"

☁ "Goob's involved?!" Cosmo whines, now looking wide awake.

☁ "Not in the way you think!" You quickly remedy. "No, he's involved in a different way. Because him and I work really well together, we do a lot of runs together, which duh, you guys know, but Glisten has wanted to get away from...you know...So he's started hanging with us a lot more. Anyway, they do their own thing, we do ours, but Goob came up to me the other day, and you wanna know what he said?"

☁ "Is that even a question?" Astro snorts. "What do you get from teasing us like this?"

☁ "Satisfaction, especially when I tell you that Goob has a big ol' stinkin' crush on GLISTEN." You share, and all three gape at the new piece of information. "Scraps won't have it, she's literally fuming because, and I quote, why would he want to get involve in all that drama. Goob literally refused to let her say anything about it further, going to war. I had never seen Goob so upset with his sister before."

☁ "Was this during that run we did a couple days ago? The one where tripped over a can of pop and smoked his face against a machine?" Cosmo eagerly asks, sitting up with his hands slamming on the table. "And Glisten was the first to run over and oh my god-?!"

☁ You nod excitedly. "It was! Goob literally has not stopped talking about it since. He even asked how we got together."

☁ "And you had to tell him all about how I was the one to do it?" Sprout smirked, sliding the first batch into the over. You excitement paused as you turned to stare at him, scoffing in his direction. "It was a group effort."

☁ "Nope. All me. Sprout is the greatest. C'mon. Admit it." His spotted cheeks upturn in time with his catlike grin and you continue to scoff.

☁ "Over my dead body maybe." You cross your arms, turning away from him as he comes up behind you. His arms wrap around your shoulders anyway as he nuzzles into your cheek, blowing a raspberry against it and making you squirm against him. You let out a yell at the action, even if he tightens his hold so you can't get out.

☁ The other two simply watch, remaining ignorant to your cries at them for help.

☁ While this has started as just something between you and Astro, watching you and Sprout, with Cosmo returning to burrow in his side, Astro lets his tail wag this time. His heart practically bursts at the full feeling it has and how lucky he considers himself to be a part of this.

☁ You and him will have more date nights, just the two of you, but these moments with all four of you have a way of just making him feel so special.

☁ Almost to the point he feels bad for the others as he knows they'll never feel the same happiness he feels with you guys.

☁ He hopes the past version of himself can rest easy now, knowing he's happy and content, and wouldn't change it for the world.

Also: The Cookie Recipe Sprout is making -> Here!

[imagines--galore]

Hello!

could I get number 13 on the prompt list with Edmund Pevensie?

Summary: He was a King. You were no Royal. You were his friend, as he was yours. And despite the fact the people kept saying there was something more, you denied it. For a King could never love a commoner. Could he? Pairing: Edmund Pevensie x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. A/N: Yay! First request for Edmund!

"Really, Your Majesty! This is just too much!" You said, running your hand over the fabric of the dress the youngest Queen of Narnia had forced you to put on.

"It is not." The Queen stated with the stubbornness of a teenager, which she was. "And how many times I've told you to call me Lucy."

"Multiple times, Your Majesty." You responded with a cheeky grin, prompting Lucy to roll her eyes in a rather un-queenly manner.

Luch walked up to straighten the thin satin belt that rested around your waist. The dress truly was a work of art. Made of a material that you were sure cost more then the wages you received, it was soft and delicate to the touch. Not to mention the work down the front of the dress seemed to sparkle in a way that made you feel like a princess. And the color? A grey that almost appeared silver. A rather unusual color but somehow familiar.

You were sure you had seen that color before, just not sure where.

"The seamstress made a few mistakes with the measurements, and I don't want it to sit in the back of my wardrobe. It is simply too stunning to never see the light of day." You let out a small hum of agreement as you allowed yourself a moment of admiration. The mirror in front of you showed a figure dressed in a gown that was surely out of a fairy tale.

Then again, you had seen grander and more beautiful gowns, and the one you wore was rather simple in comparison. But in your eyes, it was perfect. You twisted where you stood, hoping to catch a glimpse of the details that adorned the back. Lucy smiled at your obvious admiration.

"Maybe if you wore it to the ball next week, Edmund will finally notice you."

The words jolted you out of your little haze of admiration.

Turning your gaze towards the now smiling Queen, you blinked. "Notice me?" You asked, though you knew the answer before it came. Had heard it one too many times from so many people and creatures you knew.

"As in confess that he loves you, just as much as you love him." You blinked. The effect of her words were immediate as a blush turned your cheeks a bright red. The sight of which had Lucy smiling even wider.

"I-I do-don-" You were cut off by Queen Susan, who had been sitting at a nearby writing table and going over the final preparations for the Winter Ball.

"Lucy, you mustn't assume such things, it is rather rude." Her younger sister pursed her lips in a stubborn line. "Though I must admit Y/n." The Gentle Queen continued, now looking towards you. "Edmund does seem to show more affection towards you then he does anyone. Even us."

Annoyance had being told off forgotten, Lucy chimed in. "And we're his siblings!"

You shook your head as you reached behind you to undo the dress, anything to occupy her hands and hide her face lest the two Queens see the blush on your cheeks. "Your Majesties are mistaken. King Edmund and I are simply friends. And even that is a miracle given how I'm a simply maid and he is a King."

Lucy frowned. "And what does that matter? Love should not have anything to do with it." Having stepped out of the gorgeous gown and into your everyday clothes, you shook your head. "No, but that is it, Your Majesty." Your words sounded unconvincing, even to your own ears. "I am not in love with your brother."

A lie.

                                          ————————–

You were in love with King Edmund.

Had been in love with him since the moment you had seen him.

Of course, you hadn't realized it then. Had not picked up on the fact that perhaps your heart raced because he was so near. How your heart leaped in your chest when he smiled at you. Or even how everything just seemed a little more magical when he was around.

You had met him by chance. Having finished your duties for the day, you had chosen to go down to the beach and collect some shells. You already had quite the collection but you always found new beautiful pieces to add to your collection. You had just straightened up from picking a rather pretty pink shell when the sound of an approaching horse had you looking to your left.

There he was, sitting atop a horse, with no saddle or rein, no entourage or crown adorning his forehead to show his status. The speed at which he rode his horse had you stepping back before he was even near you.

For reasons known only to Aslan, he came to a halt as he neared you. You had returned to your little expedition and was already digging through a small patch of sand where you had spied a star shaped shell. The sight of it had a bright smile forming on your lips, your eyes alight with joy at such a small, insignificant yet beautiful creation.

And Edmund had felt his heart clench at the sight of your sweet smile. A strange urgency bubbled in his chest. One he had never known before. One that compelled him to dismount from his horse and approach you. Though he stood a good few feet away as he watched you straighten and place the shell in your basket.

It was then that you became aware of him. You stood there as well, your basket tucked at the side.

He had stopped at the sight of you. And the both of you had simply looked at each other.

It was rather strange looking at a complete stranger in the eye. Normally you kept your head down and went about your work. But there was just something about him that had you meeting his gaze.

Him in his simple breeches, shirt and shoes, black hair swept away from his forehead, blowing gently in the salty air. Eyes alight with a light that you would see for months to come whenever you would run into him.

He knew it was not proper to stare, but he could not help himself.

You in your simple dress, with the hem wet from the waves that kept tickling your bare toes. The braid you kept your hair in, hardly able to keep the strands in place given how hard the wind was blowing. Your cheeks were flushed from being out in the sun for so long.

And yet Edmund had never seen a more prettier sight in all of Narnia.

Slowly, you smiled at him in a friendly manner. "Is there something that you needed?" You asked.

He shook his head. "I apologize for disturbing you on your outing My Lady, I was just curious why a young maiden would venture so far away from Cair. Assuming, you are from there." He quickly added, not wanting to make any false assumptions.

Giving a small nod, you confirmed his suspicions. "Yes, I'm from Cair. I work as a maid there." The both of you glanced down the length of the beach to where the castle shone brightly in the light of the slowly setting sun. "You're a little far out aren't you?" He asked with a smile to which you gave a sheepish one in return.

"To tell you the truth, I love to collect shells." You held up your basket to show the small collection you had gathered in the hour you had been at the beach. "And there aren't quite that many close to the castle, so I have to venture a little further ahead."

Meeting his eyes once more, you allowed yourself to admire how handsome he was. Surely he was a lord or something of the sort. Perhaps a visiting noble from Archenland? Edmund's line of sight shifted to the setting sun just behind you.

"May I escort you back to Cair? It is near sunset and the tide will be coming in." He offered, not wanting to leave your presence just yet. You glanced over your shoulder as well, before turning to give him a nod. "That would be appreciated thank you." You paused. "I do not believe you told me your name."

Edmund's smile faltered a little. He knew if he told you his name you would recognize him. Clearing his throat he decided on a little white lie. Or rather half-truth. "My name is Ed. And may I ask you for your name, My Lady?" You waved a hand in a dismissive manner. "I am hardly a Lady, but you may call me Y/n, Ed." It was a rather strange name, but then who was she to say anything.

With the horse following after the both of you at a slow pace, you and Ed began the walk back to the castle.

                                          ————————–

It took you longer then normal to return to the castle. Probably because the both of you were so lost in your conversation. You hardly noticed when his horse actually bypassed you and reached the back entrance of the castle by himself. You didn't care that you were late.

It wasn't everyday you met someone you could talk to like you were with Ed. It was strange. You wanted to tell him everything. And for someone who was very private with their thoughts, this was a huge surprise.

And you weren't the only one doing the talking. Edmund had always felt a little alone, even in his family. Before going to war, his father had been the only one to understand him. After coming to Narnia his siblings had begun to understand him too, but it just wasn't the same.

But then here you were. Someone he had just met, and he had never felt so understood in all his life. It was a little scary, how you were so inquisitive and were able to pick up on cues and read between the lines of every word that came out of him. You were sharp, clever and smart.

Yes, he knew all three words were synonymous, but he didn't care. They described you perfectly.

"Well I should head back inside." You finally said, once there was a brief lull in the conversation. You really didn't want to, but you had to get to sleep so you could work the next day. Ed gave a small nod. And was it your imagination, or did he look a little disappointed as well.

"I had a lovely time talking to you." You admitted with a bright smile. "And I shall be surely on the lookout for the book you mentioned. Perhaps I may find it in the local library." You had begun to climb up the stairs leading towards the backdoor. He would have to enter from the other side where the stables were.

Edmund continued to look at you as you ascended the stairs. You walked backwards so you could look at him even as you departed. Suddenly, he realized he didn't want you to leave. A burst of courage, one that would make his younger sister proud, had him bounding up a couple of stairs, reaching out and taking your hand in his.

A startled gasp left your lips as you looked down at him. He was still a few steps away, but even that distance felt intimate.

"Will I see you again?" He asked. The young King had no idea where this new side of him was coming from. He had always preferred solitude, and he was sure that the moment he left your presence he would revert back to his old self.

But for now, he would act on every impulse he could.

Just so he could be in your company again in the future.

You stopped short, a surprised look crossing your features as you blinked at him. Your gaze dropped from his face, to the hand that gripped yours. And though you were cautious around people you just met, something in you reassured you. Had you believing that you could trust him.

So you nodded, and the smile that lit up the entirety of his face was one that stayed with you till the next time you met.

                                          ————————–

It didn't take long for you to become aware of Ed, or rather King Edmund's true status. And though it did shock and embarrass you, not being able to recognize one of the Monarchs of your beloved country, the only thing that changed in your friendship were the titles. You began to call him Your Majesty, or King Edmund, whatever the situation asked for. And him, out of spite and knowing how much you hated it, called you My Lady.

Everything else stayed the same.

Your friendship. Your ability to know what was bothering one another. The fact that the both of you knew when the other was going through a hard time. He with his duties as a King, and you with your own problems.

The whole castle slowly became aware of your friendship, especially when Edmund would seek you out and would speak to you about the most recent book the both of you had read. He, like you, was an avid reader. Any book would do really.

Sometimes you would stop in the middle of your task, and simply stand with the King in the middle of the hallway, as the both of you discussed some new scientific theory being proposed by some cranky old centaur.

Other times you would burst into his study, frantically gesturing as you let out your frustrations concerning a character in whatever adventurous tale you were reading. He would put aside his work and just listen to you with that knowing smirk on his face.

Once he had let you rant for nearly ten minutes before handing you the second book and saying that hadn't been the ending. You had once thrown a book at his head for that.

He'd learned to not test you when it came to books after that.

Still, over the months your friendship had grown stronger. You had even gotten to know his siblings. And while you were friends with them as well, the level of intimacy you shared with Edmund, was one you could never reach with anyone else.

It was not surprising when the residents of Cair Paravel began to assume that the King of Narnia was courting a simple maid.

And though no one ever said it outright, everyone thought the same.

                                          ————————–

The Winter Ball was a grand affair.

Since the defeat of the White Witch Queen Susan had taken every step to ensure that the Winter Ball was the grandest of celebrations. Not only because it was Christmas but because she wanted to wipe away any negative memories the Narnians had when it came to winter.

As a half-dryad, partial to spring and summer, even you could not help enjoying the festivities.

But from afar.

You were keeping to the shadows, hiding in an alcove that overlooked the beach you and Edmund had walked along for hours at a time. Queen Lucy had gotten what she wanted. You attending the Ball. She'd actually dragged her brother into the conversation. And when he had asked if you were going to attend, you knew you were trapped.

He had looked so hopeful that all you could do was say yes.

You never could say no to him. A weakness he exploited sometimes when it came to getting away from Cair Paravel, during work hours, and just wandering around in the Woods or walking along the beach. Your Supervisor knew of your getaways, but since you had always been an efficient worker, she never complained.

At the moment, you were dressed in the same dress Lucy had given you, with your hair in an elegant braid, adorned with flowers you had picked from garden earlier that day.

You wore a necklace with the gown, a piece of jewelry that had been gifted to you by a certain King. Your fingers lifted to the gorgeous piece, lightly tracing the outline of the necklace, a small smile pulling at your lips as your mind wandered to the one who had gifted it to you.

"Lady Y/n?"

Speaking of which.

You spun on your heel, having forgotten that there was a side entrance to the alcove you were hiding in.

"King Edmund." You responded with a quick curtsy. You smiled at him as you straightened up. Silence followed, one where your smile slowly faltered, and your cheeks to grow red under his unwavering gaze. You adjusted the skirts of your dress nervously as you cleared your throat.

"Queen Lucy was gracious enough to lend me the dress, though I insist in returning it once I am done attending the Ball." You said as a way to start the conversation.

It was then, when your eyes dropped to his chest, that you suddenly realized why the color of your dress had been so familiar.

Every Monarch had their color. For King Peter, it was gold and blue. For Queen Susan it was two different shades of blue. For Queen Lucy it was red and blue. And for King Edmund, it was silver and blue.

The exact shade of the dress you currently wore.

If it didn't mean treason, you would surely kill Queen Lucy for playing such a hand.

"You look beautiful." His words prompted you to meet his gaze, which still hadn't left your face. Skin flushing, you reached up to push a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "Th-thank you. You look good too. Did your sister threaten you into coming in proper attire?"

Edmund rolled his eyes. "She said she would lock me out of the library if I wasn't dressed right." You couldn't help but giggle at his expression.

"May I ask, why you're not out there, dancing?" He asked, moving to stand next to you so that the both of you could look out at the various dancing pairs. You shrugged. "I prefer the company of a select few." He nudged you playfully with his elbow. "I hope I'm included in that list."

You hummed in contemplation. "I believe you are number three. After your sisters." You responded, to which he pressed a hand over his heart. "Your words wound my My Lady. How shall I ever survive your cruel intentions."

This was what you loved liked about Edmund. He was always ready with a joke of some sort. It was rather refreshing, to have a friend who made one laugh.

A comfortable silence settled between the both of you, as you stood there and just watched everyone dance and enjoy themselves.

"Do you remember that day when I found out you were a King?" You suddenly spoke up, your gaze just as soft as your voice as the memory of that day rose to the front of your mind.

Edmund chuckled beside you. "Oh yes, I remember. I was talking to Peter about something, and you saw me." You nodded. "And I came over and ask how close of a friendship you shared with him because you punched him on the shoulder."

Turning your head slightly, you looked at him out of the corner of your eyes. "You decided to have some fun, saying you were quite close. And when I asked how close, you said he was your brother."

Edmund couldn't help himself. He burst out laughing, while you blushed furiously at the remembrance of your embarrassment in that moment. "Your expression was hilarious." He said once he paused for breath. "And then you said but that would make me King. Though I was rather offended you knew that Peter was King."

You scowled at his grinning face. "Thats because I had seen him give a speech in public before. It is hardly my fault that you barely leave your library or your office to go out and meet people."

He made a face. "Now why would I want to do that?" You rolled your eyes at him. "One would think as King, you would prefer to at least show yourself in public sometimes." You reprimanded, prompting Edmund to point a finger at you. "Did Susan tell you to say that? She's always going on and on about how I should spend some time with people so that I don't forget how to talk."

A teasing smile pulled at your lips as you flicked his finger away with your own. "Well she's not wrong. I love reading books just as much as you do, but at least I go out and talk to people."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "I talk plenty. At least with the people who matter." As he said that, his gaze flicked towards you and you smiled, reaching out to loosely loop your arm through his. "I am truly honored to be one of those people."

He smiled, his fingers intertwining with the hand that wrapped around his arm.

"You have no idea how much."

So saying, he brought up the hand he held, and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of your hand. And since you'd forgone gloves for the night, you could feel the press of his warm lips against your skin.

Your heart beat rapidly against your chest, and you were sure your cheeks were a permanent shade of pink with how much you were blushing.

Suddenly his eyes lit up, as if he had just remembered something.

And he had.

"I almost forgot! I went down to the beach a few days ago." So saying he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a rather pretty shell. "I found this while I was down there, thought you might like it."

With your free hand you took the shell, examining the pretty colors that nature had painted it with. It was truly beautiful. But that wasn't what you were focusing on.

He'd been at the beach for his own purpose, whatever it had been. But he had thought of you. You were on his mind when he saw the shell. You were who he remembered when he picked it up knowing you would like it.

How could he be so sweet and kind at the same time?

And how, oh how could you not fall in love with him if he were to keep showing you such sweet gestures?

The sight of the shell, and the aftereffects of the conversation you had just had with him, was what compelled you to do what you did next.

It was a simple maneuver really. One that required you to push yourself up on your toes, and tilt you head forward a little bit.

A simple series of movements.

And yet the outcome of it had Edmund's eyes widening as he felt the result of your gesture against his mouth. But it didn't stop there. His entire body stiffened for a brief moment, before he relaxed and tilted his head a little to better return the gesture. The hand that was not gripping yours, came up to rest the tips of his fingers under your chin.

Slowly you pulled back, your eyes opening so you could look at him. He was smiling. He was smiling at you so tenderly that you were sure your heart wouldn't be able to recover from the beauty of it.

Of him.

And his eyes. You actually had to look away because of how intense they were, as if he could see to the very inner most corner of your heart.

The fingers on your chin pressed lightly against your skin, coaxing you to turn your head back.

Edmund couldn't help it. He couldn't help himself and not look at you. He had to look at you.

You with your kind smile and gorgeous eyes. The way your hair would dance in the breeze and your whole face would light up when you talked about something you were passionate about.

Finally, after a few moments of simply looking at one another, he spoke. "You know there have been rumors going around. Rumors saying that I'm courting you."

You pursed your lips to suppress a smile. "I've heard about them, and I don't understand how people would think that." Even as you said it, you couldn't help but smile, knowing exactly why people would think that. He grinned as well, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

"Well how about, we add wood to that fire and play a little game by giving them a little hint every now and then?" He asked, his eyes alight with that spark he got whenever he was thinking of some clever plan that would outwit anyone involved.

Luckily for Edmund, you shared his love of deception and pranks, so you smiled. "I think I would enjoy that."

He laughed softly, before leaning down to press his lips to yours in a brief kiss.

"Though I want you to know, that whatever hint or gesture I may show you, they come from my heart and hold true." He whispered against your lips, prompting you to nod.

"As will mine."

Suffice to say, the next morning, when Edmund kissed you in the open courtyard where a lot of creatures had gathered to clean up after the Ball the night before, the entire castle buzzed with gossip and speculation.

Though one thing was for sure.

In Mrs Beaver's words, the both of you were truly meant to be.

[bedoballoons]

heyheyhey!! i would like to req for a fic, where after a BIG fight with your s/o (any genshin char), you're extremely clingy in the morning.

(because fluff after angst is heaven)

Omg I saw this request and literally went YAY! (Fluff after angst is just chefs kiss) I hope you like this and sorry it took awhile to write!!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Being clingy after a big fight~༺}

CW: Slight angst because mentions of a previous fight, overall super fluffy though!

(Includes: Diluc, Lyney, Wanderer, and Neuvillette!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc:

Your eyes fluttered open, dried tears clinging to your lashes from the night before, reminding you of the argument that caused you to go to bed crying. You glanced at the sleeping man next to you, who had originally had his back turned to you but must have shifted in his sleep, his face now mere inches from yours...and his own sadness visible.

You couldn't even really remember what the argument was about anymore and in that moment...your heart didn't want to fight about it, so you moved in closer, cuddling up to his warm figure and resting your face in his chest. To your surprise his arms wrapped around you tightly, holding you against him as he kissed your head softly and whispered with that morning voice you loved so much, "I'm sorry..."

𑁍༄Lyney:

You looked away as Lyney opened the door, leaving the room the two of you would usually have shared and looking rather depressed as he glanced at you, your hands instantly busying themselves with the dishes so you wouldn't have to talk. "Mon amour..." He said softly, voice just above a whisper as he stepped closer to you...his fingers gently touching your chin, guiding it so you'd look into his bright purple eyes. Their normal mischievous glint replaced with guilt and sadness, he was hurting...just like you.

You bit your bottom lip, tears welling up in your eyes as you hugged him so tightly, saying apologies between sobs and rubbing your face in his clothes, the comforting scent of rainbow roses making your heart ache. "Oh mon amour...I'm sorry too..." He said quietly, embracing you just as tightly as you had him and wiping your tears with his thumb before placing loving kisses on your cheeks.

𑁍༄Wanderer:

(I used the nickname Scara here!)

The sound of knocking pulled you out of your thoughts, your eyes flicking to the door to see Scara, who to your surprise was leaning against its frame with his hat turned downwards so you couldn't see his face. Your chest tightened at the sight of him, the harsh words you'd both said the night before flooding into your mind and making your heart ache, was he here to argue more...you honestly couldn't bare the idea of it.

After a few moments of silence, you finally stood up from your chair and took cautious steps towards him, your voice shaky with sadness as you said his name "Scara...?"

Suddenly he grabbed ahold of you, pulling you into him like if he didn't he could loose you forever, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he held you tightly and your heart pounded against the walls of your chest, tears welled up in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him. His breath warm against your ear and his voice softer than you'd ever heard it as he whispered a apology against your skin.

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

You sighed quietly as you opened the large door, watching as it swung open slowly to reveal Neuvillette, who glanced up at you from his desk, his eyes instantly filling with love and slight guilt when they landed on you. He cleared his throat, about to stand and most likely apologize again for the fight the two of you had previously, but you didn't give him the chance.

Instead you walked over to his chair, climbing into his lap with a light blush on your face and snuggling into his clothed chest as he embraced you tightly, not a word had to be said between the two of you to confirm that everything was alright again. He held you like that as he signed multiple papers and studied previous cases, placing kisses on the top of your head ever so often.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

papa, me want more yandere jjk zombie apocalypse!!!

no pressure tho lol love your writing

Me when someone calls me Papa:

But seriously thank you Hope you enjoy! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Zombie Apocalypse: Yandere Jujutsu Kaisen (3)

1  • 2

When you awaken it’s Nobara and Megumi who retrieve you for another tour

This time taking the time to let you partake in the activities with some of the residents

But it’s all to pass the time before Suguru comes to retrieve you

“Hey (Y/n) we have a few more tests to run and after that, I’ll let you go have fun with Satoru.”

Despite your reluctance to deal with the boisterous man you follow Suguru back to the lab where you first met him in

Chatting about anything you could 

“So I finally wanted to inform you about why you can’t go to the other neighborhood and why you have that wristband.”

“Finally! Even if I can’t be with them I want to see them still–”

“...(Y/n)...I’m so sorry.”

Setting you on the patient table Suguru informs you that your blood is the key to immunity against the zombie disease

Using some advanced technology to find you and put the wristband on you to label you among your group of friends

But that wasn’t all 

Holding you close he confides in you that in separate interviews your friend group had proven to be willing to go to extremes to get their hands on the cure

Said extremes were violent and alarming

all suggesting they’d abduct you and make you a living blood bag for them

It was actually not that far-fetched to you

You knew your friends were loosening their morals

You had to 

Especially after the betrayal from one of your members

It was likely that they may have come off that way

But you wonder if that would’ve applied to you as well

You really had no way of knowing

“(Y/n) I understand that this is difficult to take in…just know that me and Satoru are here for you. We’re going to protect you, no matter what.”

He was holding your chin as he looked into your eyes with promise

Letting him hold you in a hug

Suguru has a hard time holding in a smile that twitches widely on his face

After this Suguru takes the day off joining you to experience the different activities 

Satoru joined you both shortly thereafter

“Yay! My two favorite people are baking so adorably! It’d be a shame if someone came and tickled one of them relentlessly.”

“Sorry (Y/n).”

“Wait what—Ahhhh! Hahahaha!”

They’re pretty persistent when it comes to chasing away the thoughts of your friends possibly being as dangerous to you as they were to the zombies you’d been running from 

Enough for you to miss them when you once again say goodbye to Nobara and Megumi after they lead you to your room 

But before you can completely settle on your bed to sullenly stare at the ceiling the door to your room clicks open

“Heyyo you ready for me to show you what movies we’ve got? Of course, you are! C’mon, sweetcheeks!”

“Hope we didn’t wake you but we figured we’d hate to leave you alone.”

“Uh, thanks, you guys.”

“It’s no problem, the mind on its own is a scary place.”

“Yeah…”

“That’s why we’ll never let you go there! Now are you ready for the ultimate movie night? You’re not going to get a wink of sleep!”

That being said by the time the sun rose you were already resting on the couple your head in Satoru’s lap while Suguru held the rest of your body up

Completely oblivious to the second time the lock to your door opened up 

“You two look cozy!”

“Do not yell someone is clearly asleep.”

“So? I have the key to this door so it’s practically mine too.”

“The urge to decimate you always returns with a vengeance.”

“Ouch so cruel~!”

Suguru groaned and rolled his eyes at the both of them checking if you stirred at all

 while Satoru smiled at the blonde one of the duo only to receive an annoyed push of his glasses

“Nanamin you came back earlier than I expected.”

“Yes, my…partner took a very impulsive approach this time around.”

Suguru figured he’d chime in too, “Mahito did you bring any of them back alive?”

Mahito made a face putting a peace sign up as he posed mocking the anime signage now left as relics of the world before

“What do you think?”

“I don’t necessarily care, it’d just make things easier for them.”

“It is unbecoming of you to lie Doctor Geto.”

“Yeah, I could tell you were just itching to get your hands on those pigs!”

Suguru chuckled reaching to brush his hand against your cheek

“Maybe I was hoping to…enjoy a roast. It’s unfair if you’re the only one to enjoy the results of our labor.”

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖙 [Final]

They told you to be careful with him, that he's much more than meets the eye, but you'd been convinced that you had him all figured out; all bark and no bite, just like any other big buff alpha you've met before. Oh how wrong you were.

Tags/Warnings: werewolf!kook, Alpha!kook, werewolf!reader, omega!reader, fluff, biting, manhandling, Dom!Jungkook, protected sex (an implant is mentioned we practice safe sex even in our imagination after all), Size kink because it's me writing this get over it, strength kink because it's me writing this get over it², drooling oops, scratching, knotting, happy ending Yay

Length: ~4k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: Do not expect anything groundbreaking. I didn't know how to end this.

🌘.━━━━━━━━━━.🌕.━━━━━━━━━━━.🌒

Inside Jungkook’s cabin, you’re safe.

Here it’s warm, it smells like him and now, slowly but surely, yourself as well. It’s comfortable, you’re protected, and held gently by him right by your side. Here is where you actually want to live forever, inside, even if you were never allowed to leave ever again. The woods around you don’t matter, nor does your freedom-

All you want, and really need, is in here.

There’s a low, almost purring sound coming from the alpha behind you, his arms wrapping around you a bit tighter, as if he remembers in his waking moments that you’re actually still here, and not just a product of his imagination. He takes in a deep breath before he stretches his legs once, kissing the back of your shoulder, halfway still asleep.

Even so, with how close he is behind your body, you can clearly feel that something else about him is waking up as well.

You teasingly press yourself into him, which almost instantly gives you a response- his tender kisses turning into bites, as he scolds you non-verbally, even when his mind isn’t quite conscious yet. “Good morning.” He mumbles, laughs a bit when you turn around in his arms to cuddle right back into him, yawning once. “Slept well?” he mumbles, and you nod.

He can sense that you’re very happy in here, and he takes great pride in that- feeling good with the fact that you’ve obviously accepted his home as yours too.

But there’s also something else you seem to seek right now, as you place your own kisses against his neck, trying to somehow swoon him into a response again, maybe to finally receive his love in a more physical way. And he wants that too- but not right now. He wants to be fully awake and alert for an experience like that, and not somewhat semi-conscious like right now.

But that doesn’t mean he won’t allow to play with you a little bit.

When your hands begin to travel over his body, he doesn’t object that at all- simply watches with hooded, halfway opened eyes how you blindly reach for him, hand over his already sensitive length inside his underwear a little hesitant, unsure, but curious all the same. It’s the first time you’re the one initiating something actively- usually, you only really give him a sign, before letting him do most of the active play. But maybe because you feel so safe and comfortable in his home, you also feel more confident in your actions-

Or your patience is simply wearing thin at this point.

Either way, he thoroughly enjoys your touch fully, even adjusting his legs beneath the blankets to instead move to lay on his back, making you move around to leave him alone for just a moment- before you lay yourself over him, warm core right above his only somewhat hidden length. The fact that only some thin, fragile clothing separates you both from one another makes him sensitive- the thought of how easy it would be to just rip those poor items of clothing at their seams to provide him access to you enough to cause him to stir a little beneath you.

His hands automatically find your waist before he wraps his arms around you again, moving them again to hold your face and kiss you, still somewhat tired. You remember your first kiss, yesterday, almost entirely without any thought- and ever since then, it’s clear that he really enjoys having his lips on yours. He’s also been going further and further with you- and the line has been blurring more and more, as he accepts and provides more intimate touches every single time you’re together in such a way. From his more fleeting touches back at your old pack’s house, to what you are doing right now- your core pressing against his length, shamelessly humping him beneath all the heavy blankets, desperate for him to feel just as much as you do.

And he does feel it.

His hands move again as you kiss him a lot more desperately now, running over your sides before they rest over your behind, grabbing the flesh just to let go right after. You sigh in bliss, lean into him as you move your hips a bit harsher, chasing your release, and subsequently also pushing him towards his own. He can only imagine what it will be like once he has you close like this without anything between you both- just two bodies connecting in the most intimate of ways, finalizing their bond with one another.

His eyes close as he feels his own peak approaching, your hips stuttering as he grabs your behind once again, forcing you to keep moving keep pushing him over the edge while you ride out your own high, underwear absolutely soaked in your essence, before he spills his seed as well.

He could happily just keep it at this, and he’d still be satisfied with it, he’s sure of it.

You both lay just like that a little longer, both bathing in your shared afterglow, as well as the closeness you both feel for just a bit more. You notice how he’s clearly waking up now, eyes opening up more as he watches you become more and more aware as well, sleep leaving your body with every waking moment that passes by. “Jungkook?” You ask, and he hums a reply, smiling softly at you. “I noticed.. Your eyes.” You mention, and he nods, urging you to continue. “Why do they always show the golden ring?” You wonder, finally remembering to ask him about it.

It’s been on your mind for quite some time now- but up until now, you never really got around to ask for it. And you also didn’t want to ask around, in case its something personal- you rather ask him yourself like this, and have him explain something curious like this. Maybe it’s just a random anomaly? Some birth defect, or just a hiccup of nature?

“I’m.. What’s called moonlit.” He explains, brushing some of your hair from your shoulder. “I was born on a full moon, to explain it simply. Which both.. Caused my eyes to kind of get ‘stuck’ in this state, and also my.. Senses to stay heightened.” He says, and you nod.

“So.. What I for example experience during a full moon..” You start, and he smiles.

“I basically live that every day.” He finishes, telling you that your thought’s are correct. And you feel a bit bad for him- because you know you struggle hard during that time to really handle yourself and your inner instincts. To think that he’s basically always battling them gives you a different point of view almost, like you’re seeing him from a different perspective now. “I’ve grown used to it though.” He says, as if he can read your mind. “I’ve.. Come to accept that as a part of me. It’s annoying sometimes, it really is- but it’s not like I can change it. So why bother getting frustrated over it?” He chuckles, and you nod. “Also makes me kind of special, so that’s cool too.” He jokes, before you lean into him, clinging to him.

“You’re already special to me.” You tell him. “Even if you weren’t born like this.” You say, and you can’t see it-

But he actually blushes a little, caught off guard by your honest words.

🌘.━━━━━━━━━━.🌕.━━━━━━━━━━━.🌒

You're getting to know these woods surprisingly quickly in his opinion- and he also notices quite quickly, that you’re a lot more independent than the wolves in his pack usually tend to be.

His pack is a very tight knit community, and everyone almost clings to someone- friends stay in groups, socializing is a big thing, and no one is ever alone. But you tend to even escape some settings as if you can’t handle being around others for long- making him worried that something might be troubling you. “how come you’re by yourself?” He asks as he sits down next to you on the large tree truck that’s been made into a bench for people to sit around the large fire pit. It’s nighttime, cicadas singing and owls howling in the distance, while everyone’s busy either talking, or getting ready for bed, as they all participate in some proper bonding activities. Some have shifted, and are grooming each other, while others are in their human form still just like you and Jungkook, casually talking.

“I just.. I don’t know.” You shrug. “I’m not lonely though! I just like to be by myself.” You explain, and he nods.

“I’ll have to believe that, I guess.” He admits defeat playfully, before he pulls you closer to him as you both watch the fire in front of you.

“You can go to your friends, you know?” You giggle. “no need to babysit me.”

“Oh but I want to!” He denies. “I love being close to you. Do you want some space?” He offers, unsure now. Maybe he’s been pushing himself onto you?

“No, It’s fine.” You shake your head however, pacifying his worries. “I like being close to you, too.” You admit, leaning into him while he purrs in utter happiness.

He knows it can’t be easy to just start living in a different place, all with different people and different surroundings too. But you seem to take it easy, even coming out of your shell a little, here and there. It’s obvious you still have to learn a lot more about his pack and all its habits and customs, but you’ll get there, Jungkook is sure of that.

You belong at his side, after all. He’d even start a new pack if he had to in order to keep you at his side.

Back in your now shared cabin, Jungkook is instantly all over you again. You’ve noticed that he’s been getting more and more.. needy almost for this kind of affection, and you figure it might be because the full moon is soon approaching. “I though you’re.. always stuck in your moon-phase?” You giggle when he nips at the crook of your neck where his mark is yet to be placed.

“doesn’t mean I don’t feel it’s effects weighing down on me harder the more the moon shows herself.” He growls into your skin, shamelessly running his tongue over the spot before he kisses it.

“Jungkook..-“ you gasp, but he doesn’t let you speak much further.

“I dont think I can wait.” He sighs out, and you now notice the way his hands seem to be trembling on your skin. “I don’t think I can take another night.” He admits, and you feel for him.

Being stuck in the moon-phase is one thing- having your chosen mate being dangled in front of you while having to keep your hands to yourself must be agonizing, especially now. You have an implant which prevents your heat and possible pregnancy, but that doesn’t mean the moon doesn’t enhance your scent and appeal to him.

“You think the moon will.. look away for a second?” You giggle, and he growls again, feeling oddly vulnerable. “I don’t mind if you take me tonight.” You offer, and at that, he pushes you backwards, before you’re handled impatiently into the nest he’d made for you and him, every pillow in his way kicked out without any mercy. His eyes are entirely golden now, proving how he’s slowly taken over by the wolfblood in his veins, and you feel for him. It must be tough having to somehow keep yourself in check all day long, every day. But that’s the reason wolves aren’t supposed to mate during certain times of the year, just so something like Jungkook can’t happen- because every other person would’ve probably not be able to restrain themselves to such a degree he’s able to.

“I think she’ll make an exception for us.” You tell him, as he boldly grips your clothes to just rip them open, uncaring of ruining the items. And the sheer display of strength and force does something to you- a submissive but clearly not fearful whimper escaping you, not going unnoticed by the alpha currently sitting above your body.

He leans down to kiss you with no care for staying tame or controlled, tongue running over your bottom lip before he dives back in, quite literally stealing your breath. His hands are meanwhile busy exploring your exposed skin, digging out your breasts from your underwear to grab at them, thumb flicking your already hardened buds.

If it’s supposed to work up your appetite for him, it’s clearly working.

He’s eager in shedding his own clothes, skin and ink revealed to you as his muscles flex under the moonlight bleeding in through the gaps in the curtains covering the windows. His hardened length is already leaking, right onto your lower stomach, so close to where you want him most. He knows he can just take you however he pleases. You’ve talked about this before, and you’re glad he did.

Because you know, in this moment, he will not hold back. The need to fill you up and claim you as his too much to handle, especially not with you so ready and eagerly waiting beneath him.

He pushes his own legs against yours, forcing yours to move up and expose yourself more to him, limbs resting over his thighs as be ruts against your already wet core. He purrs lowly against your neck, gripping your wrists to push them into the bed below, before you feel the head of his cock prod at your entrance. Even in times like this he seems to find pleasure in teasing you, as he never pushes further, never gives you what you want until you’re whimpering again, quietly begging for him to just take you.

And he grants you that whish, finally slipping inside, as far as he can go before you jump a little in discomfort. He waits for you to adjust, makes sure to reassure you with kisses and comforting touches, before he notices you moving to see if you’re ready.

And once he knows you are, he finally begins his chase.

As if he’s finally breathing freely, he’s able to let go of his own shackles he’s put on himself for a moment, releasing all the pent up energy he’s been bottling up over the course of time. He usually runs it off or works out until his body gives up, but with you, he’s potentially found a new way to vent it all out. Because he can feel that you’re truly meant for him. A mate chosen by the moon herself, perfectly fit to handle him and his instincts.

You’re turned around for easier handling, and you don’t even bother thinking about anything anymore, simply giving yourself into his hands- hands that are more than eager to hold and grab at any flesh they can touch. You can feel his canine teeth in the skin of your neck, biting, eager to mark you up before he finalizes the bond with a final bite placed in a spot he himself will choose. Where will he place it?

You’ll soon find out.

But right now he’s busy pressing his hips into you as far as he can go, your body continuously rocking back and forth under the force of his thrusts, while his fingers dig into the skin of your waist to keep you in place. But they wander, eager to explore and hold, unsure even in where they want to stay and how they want to move you. And so one of his hands moves to hold you upright against him, back arched as one of his palms holds your neck to have your head next to his, mind intoxicated by your scent so close.

The sounds are obscene, but neither of you have any energy in your brains left to really care about that.

You don’t even realize the saliva that’s dripping down your chin, but he definitely does- the sight of you so entirely out of your mind doing something to him on a primal level. He’s got you entirely under his control, and he knows to value this as a giant sign of trust towards him- trust that he’s not ever going to throw away, no matter what. Because with the way the can feel his body start to exhaust, a unique and new feeling he’s not yet felt like this before, he knows that you’re truly it for him.

His one and only. There’s no one else he’d rather have.

So his bite is placed, teeth digging into your flesh, once, twice, and one more time to truly seal the bond forever. Your body shudders in pleasure, hands reaching onto nothingness before you find his thighs, accidentally scratching his skin- but he doesn’t mind one bit.

Instead, he can feel the way he reaches his peak, moment of bliss completely blinding him for a moment as he holds you close, pushing himself in deep to make sure that you don’t spill a single drop of his release.

And you can’t- not with the way his knot locks you both into place, two bodies breathing heavily with exhaustion, laying closely together while you try and come back down from your high.

The afterglow you both share is blissful, no thoughts in your minds as Jungkook carefully nurses the wound he created, arms keeping you close while he still occasionally twitches inside you. Slowly you pull a stray pillow closer to you, hiding your face in it in shame as you realize the way you just acted like a bitch in heat- but he doesn’t like the way you’re trying to shy away from him. His hand pulls the pillow away before he kisses your neck and cheek, careful not to move too much with his knot still inside you, potentially hurting you if he was to somehow move too quickly.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, sensing your embarrassment, voice a bit hoarse as he speaks. “Are you not happy?” He worries, but you shake your head.

“I am.” You say. “It’s just..” You drift off, shivering a little as your skin begins to cool down again, something he immediately notices as his hands reach out to a blanket close by, which he puts over your body the best he can. He himself is still high when it comes to body temperature- normal with wolves, so its not surprising.

“You were very attractive.” He teases almost, running his nose over the crook of your neck, careful to avoid your bonding mark for now until it’s healed. “You’ll always be. Don’t even worry about that.” He reassures you, having realized what you must be so shy about. “Even now I can barely keep my hands to myself..” He purrs, and you whine.

“You’re still inside!” You complain, thinking he might just be playing around- but he’s twitching again, making it clear that he isn’t just teasing you. At least, not entirely.

“How can a man be so easily satiated with a mate like that?” He tells you, no question asked even though it’s masked as one. You already realize that there’s something.. New about him. The way he speaks, the ease in which he touches, breathing slow and steady. Like he’s breathing freely for once, no need for always having his guard up just in case.

Is it just the exhaustion? Or something else?

“Hm, I want to stay here forever.” He purrs, nuzzling closer to you.

“But we should at least clean up.” You giggle, noticing the way he softens up inside you, slowly slipping out of you. It’s an odd feeling, and it’s not entirely pleasant, but all good things must come to an end at some point. “Now, preferably. Before you’ll fall asleep on me, big bad dog.” You tease, and he gently nips at your neck where you’re not injured, a very distinctive playfulness in his mood, even though you’re both tired.

“What if I’ll take you in the shower again, while we clean up?” He suggests, and you laugh, finally able to get yourself into a seating position again, ready to escape him into the shower-

But he’s hot on your heels, not yet ready to call it a night just yet.

🌘.━━━━━━━━━━.🌕.━━━━━━━━━━━.🌒

“I heard Yoongis mate has returned to him.” Jungkook says, as you’re both laying inside his cabin, fireplace warming everything up and spending a soft, golden light. He’s just returned from a small trip back to your former pack’s home- a standard routine, now that you’ve been ‘exchanged’ for Seokjin’s mate.

He’s got to basically always give Yoongi an update on you and your wellbeing until one full year has passed, and you’ve been fully introduced to the new pack.

“Really? Where was she?” You wonder, head resting on his chest while he holds your hand in his, both of you watching the small flames eat away at the wood he’s fed into the fireplace earlier.

“An accident, he’d said.” Jungkook informs you. “She’s.. Lost all her memories.” He reveals, and you feel for Yoongi. Losing a mate is already painful enough- but being re-introduced just to realize they don’t remember you at all must be like losing them twice.

“Oh no..” You mumble, worrying.

“But they were clearly meant for one another.” Jungkook reassures you. “They were.. Very close. Clearly bonded already.” He chuckles, aware that his choice of words must be enough to tell you just how close they seemed to be even after all of what they’ve been through.

“They.. Got together again?” You ask, and he nods.

“Inseparable, really. It was pretty amusing to see your pack alpha be this.. Docile.” He says, still laughing just thinking about the way Yoongi turned instantly soft and gentle at just a bat of his mate’s lashes.

But he understands. He understands so well.

He too would fall in love with you no matter how many lifes he’ll get to live again and again. He knows he would always somehow find you again, love you again, just the same as before. Because you’re not just his chosen mate-

You've become much more than that.

[yunieful]

distant touch

self-loathing!reader finally makes a reappearance. may become known as nonhuman!reader or something. i'm working on it.

tags: autistic reader, self-loathing, mentions of death (no one dies it's just the concept), you sure aren't really human, sylus is featured this time yay, i'm so sorry but your backstory will get worse, there's some foreshadowing here already, mc/reader if u squint, named mc, you are once again confused how friendship works, that trope where no one can touch you because blank, your evol matches a certain LI, idk if it means anything yet, idk if anything means anything tbh word count: 4.5k

a/n: it sure is a fucking mess and wasn't beta read but you better like it- /s

Everyone finding you wrong leads to one thing kids are truly well-known for.

Bullying.

Sometimes you cried, even screamed in their faces once that you didn’t deserve the treatment. That never stopped it completely, but you spooked them that day. It’s one of the few moments you’re proud of in your dark life.

Anything considered different is usually wrong, and that includes things like any other race or species that isn’t human.

You’re not too sure what you are, but you’ve known since you were young to hide and pretend you’re human.

The ones that bullied you certainly tested your patience. You were tempted to reveal your true form, to make them finally back off and hide in terror. However, you certainly didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention. Maybe someone would take you away and experiment on you.

Just the thought of that makes you sneer in disgust.

You only wanted to be left alone.

Until now, apparently.

Shut. Up!

But out of so many reasons for it not being a good idea, there is one that will always remind you why this must be your life. To hate, to be feared, to be hated, to be alone.

Sometimes civilians would give hunters things as thanks for saving them. Said hunters encouraged citizens to not do that. It’s not like they’re the actual law of this world, but it’s just a sense of professionalism to not accept extravagant gifts in case it’s really just some bribe or something.

Yet nothing can be said when it comes to flowers.

Your blood thins and ices over as you stop some ways from your desk.

There, in its loud, petaled beauty, is a bouquet of flowers.

“What the fuck,” you whisper harshly. Your steps are fast and quick, eyes darting back and forth in suspicion before fumbling for the card next to said bouquet.

Turns out it had been a thank you from someone you and Melody had saved the other day. You both just happened to be grocery shopping when Wanderers attacked. No big deal.

Except, these flowers mean more than anyone could know.

Your gloved hands tremble when inching towards some daisies that are part of the arrangement.

“Aw, how sweet. Who are those from?”

Immediately, you bring your hand back, and you look to find Tara. Someone who has never bothered interacting with you until Melody started to.

The smile on her face is so bright, almost too bright. You have to look away and focus hard on something else.

“Oh, just some civilian Melody and I saved a couple of days ago.”

You don’t continue talking, and thankfully Tara takes it as the signal to leave. You just can’t be bothered sometimes to tell people something to end the conversation and claim it’s done on your end. You’d rather they figure it out and leave on their own.

Once no one is looking, you dare to reach forward again, a trembling finger inching closer and closer.

When it touches the daisy, the petals curl and darken, with the stem curving down.

Your teeth clench together behind a closed mouth. The hand belonging to the finger reaching out to the daisy curls tightly, shaking.

You grab the bouquet and dump it in the trash, along with the hopes you dare contain almost every time you do something like this.

They always wilt. They always die.

It’s the same tale for every living thing that touches you, clothed or not.

Death reaches them all.

And death has been your only companion for all these years.

And, soon, it will continue to be your only companion.

It’s only a matter of time.

Whatever god (or gods) were looking down at you, somehow—among the misery—they gave you the slightest bit of protection through your Evol.

If this could be considered your Evol…if this could be even considered “protection.”

Black and purple energy formed as thorns rose, bringing someone unimaginable pain. Enough to have someone back off and look at you as if you’re the one that did that to them.

You can’t always control them, from what you’ve discovered. They act of their own accord. Perhaps out of instinct. Whether it’s someone trying to harm you and you don’t have time to use your weapons against them, or they touch you when you don’t expect it or want it or even trying to save their life. They don’t always work—considering some people have just died still—but they keep you untouchable for the most part.

Growing up, your parents refused to let anyone know except teachers and principals. It’d be up to you at university on whether to tell your professors or not. The reasoning had been you’d have a panic attack if anyone touched you or got too close without your permission.

But you and your parents knew better.

Foster parents, specifically, but they were the only two people throughout your life that you didn’t hate (after a time). They adopted you eventually despite knowing the risks, and that’s all you needed to know that, for once, somewhere—you were wanted.

Everywhere else does not have that luxury. The opposite, really.

Always best to assume every place is not welcoming and never to get comfortable.

Not to mention every person would immediately be scared of you and not want to risk their lives.

Melody and Xavier have not found out so far, but it’s inevitable.

Which is why wanting to be in their company is so fucking stupid.

They always leave when they find out. Always.

You’re more trouble than you’re worth. There is absolutely nothing interesting about you to keep people around. You have no special qualities. There is nothing notable. Nothing that makes people go “I want that one to be my friend!” Add this entirely fucked up thing about you that you’d rather keep hidden than noted at any point eventually?

The only company you keep are darkness and shadows, besides death. And even then, they can only provide so much.

It’s always made you wonder if you were destined to be alone.

The N109 Zone is familiar with people like you.

They’re known to have no laws, filled with strife and conflict. Death follows somewhere in some corner. Envy follows another, with how much people want Protocores and the deals they can make with them. Everyone killing and hurting each other just for some fucking rock, when you think about it.

And yet, Melody wanted to come here all for one particular Protocore that people would drool at the mouth for. Just become completely and utterly feral, clawing over each other to the top.

Aether cores.

Well, at least she has you, for however long that will last.

Sometimes the N109 Zone is a safe haven for those not human. At least, for your kind anyway. As far as you know, the people rarely bother you, and they certainly never ask questions. The rumors of your kind granting death with just one look makes it scary enough.

Again, people will always be afraid of what’s different, wrong, not normal.

Usually you appear there out of your human disguise, to keep your hunter identity a secret. However, Melody had no idea why you were so familiar with the N109 Zone.

She didn’t know about your other job. (But is it really a job if a lot of times you don’t accept pay except from maybe one or two clients? And even then they force you to take the damn money?)

But she will have to know, because this is the price you pay for the familiarity of the word Onychinus.

They’re not just some dangerous organization that hunters need to be wary of.

“Huh, so this is what our little Zero is up to in their free time.”

He’s lucky to be able to say that while Melody is passed out from—whatever just happened.

You purse your lips and narrow your eyes at familiar, bright red orbs.

“Long time no see, Sylus.”

Zero.

Technically the number before one, but not everyone learns about it as a kid.

It’s nothing. Practically in the shape of an endless void, a blackhole leading to oblivion.

It felt like the perfect alias for the work you do around here.

“Interesting that she wasn’t dead.”

You scoff, human skin left behind for the creature you are, but you still purposely stick to any shadows you can find within the confines of this massive mansion.

“I don’t kill everyone I meet.” You cross your arms, leaning against the wall. “What’s this talk of ‘kindred spirits’?”

Sylus tilts his head in response, raising a brow. “Why does it matter to you? She a friend?”

You swallow thickly. “Yes and no.”

He lets out a laugh behind closed lips. “You could have left her to fend for herself. You didn’t have to come with her. So, you care about her.”

There is no denying it, not really. If you try to, he may make you look at his eye, and besides not wanting to admit your deepest desires—you also just don’t want to make actual eye contact. It’s horrifying.

“And she’s not just some Aether Core asset to you,” you remark. “Clearly we both have things we don’t want to admit. So, fuck off.” The words aren’t really aggressive. Just a clear cut warning to tell Sylus to not try and dig deeper into this, and it wouldn’t be the first time either.

Maybe someone else would be afraid to tell the leader of Onychinus to fuck off or shut up, but there are worst things to fear than some criminal lord being pissed at you.

The edge of Sylus’s lip twitches, and you swear for a moment you catch contempt, but it’s gone in a blink. Either way, you don’t question it, but you know you hit a nerve. “I’ll be here for the time being until whatever you need done with her gets done.” After a beat, you sneer, “But if you harm her, I don’t care if I can’t kill you. I can make you wish you were dead.”

He doesn’t look the least bit bothered or scared by those words. But you know he’s acknowledged them, because he nods to you. “Maybe I’ll have work for you soon.”

You scoff. “Don’t force me to accept your payment again.”

He smirks.

You roll your eyes dramatically. “Of course,” you say dryly, “I forgot who I was talking to.”

He’s trying to resonate with her.

And it’s not working in the slightest.

You wonder why. You’ve seen Sylus’ power in action. Practically unstoppable. He literally made a man explode in front of Melody when they met each other again.

Why does he need to resonate with her?

Holding the touch of death sometimes means you can sense when someone’s life wanes. Thankfully, you haven’t sensed anything of the sort in those three days (not what feels like the warmth of the sun and the beginnings of spring). Sometimes you are fulfilling other tasks made by the people of the N109 Zone that fit in your job description. Other times, you’re destroying the Wanderers that are slinking about, or something else that lingers in the shadows that little people can see. The ones that thrive since there’s no daytime here.

“Melody will expect me to be somewhere here. But I—”

Sylus waved you off, despite the conflicting emotions you feel. “I’ll just tell her I’m keeping you somewhere.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What will that cost me?”

“Nothing.”

That answer was so easy, no trouble at all, and it just made you even more suspicious.

Sensing your suspicion, he sighs. “It’s none of my business whether she knows about this or not.” He gestures to you, likely referencing your true form. “But maybe you should tell her sooner than later.”

The thought filled you with sickening, deep dread. Yet you only nodded solemnly in reality.

“I know.”

It wouldn’t be difficult to tell her, right? There’s plenty of things that aren’t “normal,” especially after the Chronorift Catastrophe.

But you’ve been wrong about people before. That’s how you got here. Making so many mistakes in what you said, the “friends” you trusted, and overall poor judge of character.

Something deep, deep down in you, though, dared to say that Melody could be trusted. You two hadn’t been friends (such a scary word) for long, but she is the one who approached you. The way the both of you functioned as hunting partners, practically in sync, made you eager to work with her. How she’d always smile when seeing you, and it never seemed fake or forced. Moments where her mouth would open and close, something familiar yet unfamiliar spotted in her eyes, and then she’d give a smile that could light the sun before waving goodbye.

And you’d miss her.

That’s why the other side of you is nothing but a tight ball of dread at the thought of her hating you. Just like all the others. Looking at you with disgust, claiming you’re nothing—that you’re wrong, a curse—misfortune following you wherever you go.

But it’s best to get it out of the way soon, so that things can go back to the way they were at the Hunters Association. With absolutely no one approaching you or bothering you, and leaving you alone.

Alone.

You used Kieran and Luke to send any messages you could. Just anything to say that Sylus wasn’t treating you badly at all. He literally can’t even touch me. There’s always his Evol, but he’s never bothered with you. Some part of you wondered if the jobs you took in the N109 Zone earned his respect, as well as the very few times you’ve worked with him personally.

“You’re okay!”

You immediately slide back when Melody tries to hug you, but you don’t hesitate to examine her where possible to make sure she wasn’t harmed at all. She frowns, but she lets her arms fall while you shrug.

“I don’t like hugs. You know that.”

Thank fuck I changed back to this before she saw me.

Something would’ve maybe poked her or bumped into her, and you really didn’t want to tell her the truth. You just weren’t ready yet.

She clicks her tongue. “I know. But I was really hoping for once you’d let me on this special occasion!” Her gaze softens. “I thought Sylus was doing awful things to you, before those two gave me your message.”

You raise a brow. “When did they do that?”

“Just before I threatened them to let me out.”

You blink a few times, before nodding slowly. “You could have left whenever, from that room.”

She gives that signature roll of her eyes and exasperated look before saying, “Well, I didn’t know!” Her eyes narrow at you. “Actually, how are you so…okay with this?”

“Caw-caw!”

Oh, you can tell from that exact tone Mephisto is laughing at you.

You glare at the bird out of the corner of your eye, while Melody walks over to it. “Whoa, what’s this?” Before continuing, she points a finger at you and frowns. “I still want an answer.”

“I’ve been through worse.”

Really, that’s your reasoning?

“Worse?” It sounds like Melody can’t comprehend that’s the answer you’re going with either.

“Has he actually harmed you?” You’re sure she hasn’t been, but it’s a good time to ask just to be sure.

She takes a moment to consider this, before shaking her head. “No. In fact, I—I was the one to harm him.”

Oh.

That explains the briefest of moments you felt someone’s life wane that didn’t seem like Melody’s. Something else that was dark but calm, fierce but also gentle, covered in red and black all over.

That’s the best you could describe it. It’s hard to explain, but you can sense people’s…auras, but you know that’s something your people can do too. It’s not an Evol you have.

“Dare I ask exactly what happened?”

Melody’s answer is quick and fast before you can even consider the possibility of thinking no, I don’t want to know what happened actually. “I shot him straight in the heart with a gun.”

You blink slowly. “I…see.”

“And then he just…healed. Like nothing happened.”

You turn slowly to look at Mephisto, who you swear is mirroring your gaze. The kind where you both aren’t surprised at all, which also means you have no idea how to react to this.

“Well,” you come up with lamely, “you’re a good shot.”

Even she’s pouting and waving you off. “That’s all you have to say? Not, ‘He can do that?’ Or like, ‘Oh my god, how could you do that to him?’ Not—” she pauses, and you dare to glance in her general direction to unfortunately spot something like realization in her face.

“Wait.”

Uh oh.

“You know Sylus, don’t you?”

Shit.

“That’s why you were able to get me into the N109 Zone so easily!” Melody gasps loudly and dramatically before whispering as if she’s discovered a conspiracy, “You two are in cahoots.”

You don’t know if it’s better she knows about this than what you do here, what you really are, and why things like hugs are such a strong dislike to you.

You kind of want to dissipate into nothingness, throw yourself into the void, when you spot the strange Cheshire grin growing on Melody’s face.

“Is that why you’re so secretive and keep to yourself? Because you’re working for a crime lord?”

How and why is she connecting these dots so fast?

“Oh my god, does he make you kill people?”

If you were drinking anything, you’d have given the ugliest snort before choking on it.

“How can you work with someone like that?”

You have to stop her before she starts badgering you with more questions. “Melody, let’s just say I’ve done him some favors. He considers me useful.” At least, you hope so, given he hasn’t tried to kill you himself.

Melody’s brows furrow. “And somehow the Hunters Association knows nothing about this?”

“Whatever they know won’t hurt them.” As her eyes widen, you sigh and shake your head. “I am always a hunter first and foremost, Melody. Everything else is just…extra content.” You say the last two words as a very quiet mutter.

She heard you, though, given how she snorts.

“Alright, I trust you.” Why? “Now let’s get out of here. We’ll find another way to track down that Aether Core.”

Now it’s your turn to say, “Wait.”

She stops before even taking a step away from you.

“I know Sylus seems like the worst option right now, but he’s not.” And what is your reasoning? That he’s having a bad day? You don’t even know why he’s been trying to resonate with Melody, treating her roughly (which you unfortunately only discovered a little while ago, so you couldn’t chew out Sylus).

All you know is that she seems important. That Sylus and Melody are “kindred spirits.”

Well, that and she doesn’t seem to remember anything.

Remember what?

“You sound so sure,” Melody’s voice brings you out of your thoughts. “Alright,” she sounds reluctant, but also soft, “what’s your reasoning?”

That has you blinking dumbly. “You’re…willing to listen to me?”

You’re far too used to people disregarding what you say. To never take you seriously. To not even consider you’re telling the truth about something. They just ignore you.

Yet Melody is keeping her attention fully on you that you really have to look away, no pretend eye-contact can save you right now.

“Of course.” Just like Sylus, her answer to something like that is quick and swift, not giving it a second thought. “You’re my partner.” She stumbles, glancing quickly back and forth before looking back to you. “My friend.”

You don’t take note of how, in a rare moment, she’s a little flustered. You’re far too stunned someone’s giving you their full attention and willing to listen to you and willing to believe you—

You shake your head and force yourself to get a grip.

“My reasoning is that he’s the leader of Onychinus. No one messes with him. Everyone’s afraid of him, and if they aren’t—they’ll learn to be. You’ve seen his Evol in action. He’s unstoppable.” Melody frowns, but she’s nodding slowly to what you’re saying. “So what if he’s a criminal? Things aren’t always that simple.”

“Maybe they are,” Melody whispers to you, her expression grave. “I think—I think he’s the one who killed my family.”

Is that why there’d be rare moments you’d catch Sylus irritated, running a hand over his face, brows furrowed tight? Was she giving him a hard time past the judgment of him being the big bad leader of Onychinus?

“Think about it, Melody, what would be his motive?” She stares at you in confusion. “If you’re thinking it’s for your Aether Core, I doubt he had that information before that night. You told me you barely found out not too long ago yourself. Besides,” your voice becomes low, sharp, dangerous, “he wouldn’t set up a trap and run off. He’d rather see to it himself.”

Something in her eyes shifts when she’s looking at you, you realize. You dare to look, dare to be known and perceived, and you find—

You’re not entirely sure. Awe, perhaps? As to why, you haven’t a clue. You were just telling your fellow hunter what you thought. Your honest opinion of Sylus.

“It’s more likely someone set him up to take the fall,” you whisper. Yet it feels like it echoes in these long halls somehow.

Melody blinks, and you focus on her forehead instead, so you’d stop trying to search in her eyes. “How did you meet Sylus?”

Your mind darkens as you remember how you two first met. Desperation led you to him, revenge requested his help, and caution set the price. In the end, death found you again, and you were left with a void and endless tears. Sylus peered into that void, unblinking, red eyes glittering, and somehow he knew. The understanding in his eyes was undoubtedly clear. He knew why you did what you did, and an unspeakable agreement forged between shadows and crimson.

Such an innocent question for her to ask, but the answer is dark and wounded. A wound that feels like it still refuses to close, and you’ve tried hard to not let it fester still, after all this time.

“I asked him for a favor,” you settle on. Your throat has dried, so your voice is hoarse. You quickly clear said throat and brush off Melody’s concerned gaze. “He provided. And people need help here, especially with Wanderers.” More like if something else happens, something that shouldn’t rise from the shadows.

But some do request your specific touch, in a literal sense. You decide how it’s done, though, sometimes ignoring the client's request of “the touch of death.”

Sylus has only asked this of you once or twice. Any other times he finds it “a bother to do it himself,” he’ll ask you to do the killing any way you like.

You rarely go to his place, though, and you two haven’t been in contact with one another recently. Your boundaries were strict anyway. He wasn’t allowed to contact you through your phone. You requested Mephisto send messages, keep it old fashioned. And that’s if he really needed you.

He’s never been considered a friend to you. Just a contact you had for the N109 Zone. The entire reason you were able to get Melody here in the first place. (Didn’t stop others from hijacking the plan, but Sylus found them eventually.)

But with how Melody has been treating you, you dare to wonder—

Is he a friend? An acquaintance? A companion?

Anytime you come back into contact with him, you don’t feel immediate disgust or some itch to get away as soon as possible. Ever since that favor, you see that he understands you. You’re not sure how, as he seems to be the type who is like, “You must be at relationship number 5 to unlock my backstory.” But he has told you, at least once, that he understands what it’s like for others to consider you a monster with just one look.

No pity, like you would have expected. Never looked down on you, never considered you lesser. This monster he met was his equal and would stay so.

“Caw-caw!”

You glance over at Mephisto, raising a brow. “He wants to see the both of us?” You figured that Sylus would only want to see Melody.

She seems just as surprised. “Wait, did he know I was trying to escape?”

You snort. “You weren’t going to make it out the door even if I hadn’t stopped you.”

“I could’ve!”

That has you laugh, just the littlest bit. “Not without me,” you dared to joke.

“Well, that’s true.”

You stiffen entirely, almost biting hard on the inside of your cheek. What?

This woman may be the death of you, and that means something to someone is so intimate with death.

“What?” Melody has no idea why you’re so gobsmacked. “It is true! I wasn’t going to leave without you. We’re in this together, right?”

Slowly, you nod, hearing the squeak of your gloves from how tightly you're clenching your hands into fists. “Right.”

And, even in a place like this, her smile shines. Towards you.

Are you truly deserving of such warmth?

Despite what she’s gone through, she still has a smile, just for you.

So earnest, so strange.

Mephisto takes it as a sign to start flying off, while you take the lead to find Sylus, with Melody walking next to you. Out of habit, you make sure the two of you aren’t close, but she sure likes to test you sometimes with the proximity.

“You really enjoy testing someone’s patience, huh?” you ask with a grumble.

Despite everything going on, she giggles softly next to you. “Yeah, of course! Your annoyed look is kinda cute.”

As if summoning it, you give her an irritated look, realize what you did, and scoff. “You’re a menace,” you seethe, but there’s the smallest of smiles tugging on the corners of your lips.

“Ha, Sylus is the real menace here.” That you couldn’t really argue with. You don’t know the full details, but if Melody shot him…he probably deserved that. Idiot.

You open the door, sending her a glance. “I’ll go in first.” Is it to protect Melody and sort of put a wall between her and Sylus? …No one could prove it.

At the end of all this, you and Sylus were going to need to have a conversation.

The kind where he didn’t get to be the one to see past the void. You needed permission to see past that pretty face and wade through the crimson.

You dared to hope you wouldn’t be involved in this, at least not that much involved.

Far too late for that now.