#(still too heavy sometimes for my weak ass bones)

[a-walking-fandom-reference]

as a (previously) touch starved but (always) touch adverse person getting a cuddly cat was the best thing i ever did

[mockerycrow]

Some more things on Johnny as a werewolf because my little good boy deserves more headcanons

Transforming isn't necessarily painful; But it's really uncomfortable. It feels like his skin is stretching out, his muscles feel like they're detaching from his bones, only to stick themselves back on again, his face doesn't bring him pain, bit it doesn't feel like his...

Once he's done going through the motions, which usually takes an hour, he has full consciousness, which is both a blessing and a curse.

On the one hand, his senses are heightened, meaning he just knows stuff he couldn't learn before. He sees little scars on people, details even the person themselves didn't know, he remembers their scent to a T, and just by being around someone, he knows exactly who they are. He hears things he couldn't before, so sneaking around him isn't an option.

But, on the other, now that his hearing is 10 times better, every noise makes him jumpy, and if he has to be subjected to high-pitched noise, he can't stand it. He can smell smells very well, which means that if an odour is only slightly unpleasant it's an acrid stench to him;

Another thing I think is that he doesn't succumb to instincts, BUT... he can't help himself when it comes to fetch. He knows what he's doing, and he can stop it, but he just wants to play with his friends and s/o! And what better way to do it, than a classic game? So, imagine: This huge, grown-ass, 12 feet tall werewolf that can rip apart cars with his bare hands (or paws?), Sat on his ass Infront of you, tail wagging wildly while you hold a ball, filled with little holes from his teeth, drowned in slobber. Then you throw it, the bestest boy on the world playing fetch with you. It's surreal, but come on. Johnny knows he technically shouldn't like this, but he does anyway. It's a little embarrassing for him.

His fur is also like a dense carpet, straight and medium length, a dark brown. So fluffy. Perfect to hug. He's like an oversized poodle when you hug him, just so much soft floof to hug, it's so...

But during missions, while Johnny is transformed, he's a big threat. Bullets don't do anything to him, and with his heightened senses, strength and agility he can easily clear a base all by himself. Nothing can stop him, even metal doors, he can just open them right up or rip them to shreds. He's truly unstoppable by anything that isn't capable of telekinesis, so that's why Simon works so well in tandem with him, to protect him from such weaknesses and magic.

KAKFFKCKC WEREWOLF JOHNNY ME LOVE ME LOVVEE—have some little thoughts :P

-> I imagine that he gets overstimulated by his heightened senses sometimes. When he is safe, he tries to hide in a quiet, dark corner. Somewhere that won’t tear his eardrums apart, where he doesn’t want to vomit from so many smells. If he’s overstimulated on the field? He’s even worse—he’s borderline feral. He’s so desperate for all of the sensations, smells and noises to stop that he’s barely in control.

-> This man knows full well he will crush you by sitting in your lap, yet he still tries to, just like a lapdog would.

“Soap, jeSus, dude!— You’re heavy, get off..!”

-> Johnny throws himself to the floor and rolls onto his stomach often to show that’s he’s submitting and that he trusts you quite often; but that also means he’s shaking the floor, the whole damn building, even. Tongue out, panting, chest to the ceiling as he stares you down. He doesn’t want to admit it, but belly rubs feel good, too.

-> He loves when you pet him. Loves loves loves!!!

-> He can quite literally tear a human in half, yet he’ll let you examine his sharp canines if you wish to do so.

[the-iron-queen]

Genuinely curious whats your beef with New Siwaj's works, plsplspls let me know

Oh dear.

Well, it starts with and is in many ways about UWMA. I will put a cut here because I really can't stand a lot about this show and don't want my post in its entirety to potentially jumpscare someone in the tags.

And I apologize in advance to anyone who genuinely likes UWMA and New Siwaj's directing if you actually decide to read this post. Just be warned, I have a heavy bone to pic with both.

I have only managed to drag my ass through 9 of the 17 episodes so far.

I know the show is beloved by many, but for me it's seriously the only BL so far I have straight up dropped, originally at episode 3 or 4 (although i am trying to strongarm myself back into it sometimes when i feel especially masochistic). That's in a big part to do with Ohm and Fluke and how they absolutely not work at all for me together. Usually I can say fine, a thing is not my cup of tea, but I can imagine someone else enjoying it. These two as a couple unfortunately are for me something that I (this is a personal opinion) feel very much like their chemistry and when it's just them alone in a scene is objectively pretty bad. But as I said. Personal opinion.

When I look at the entire show it just comes together why these two were just what brought out all the shows weaknesses to me, which I attribute in large parts to New.

There is his tendency to use an atrocious amount of sound effects (in UWMA not as much on display as in We Are, which annoyed me so much that I nearly dropped that too after the first episode) and his similarily tendencies to drive me up the wall will permanent reusage of the same three background tracks over several shows of which some very agressively try to tell you a scene is awkward while you just try to get into character interactions (in Between Us I had to take breaks from watching because that issue was annyoing me so much). Honestly I have seen an entirety of one single scene in which for one moment his sense of comedic sound usage worked for me, and that was with Aob as Tan, who really shouldn't be hard to not turn out funny (but by god, Aob got so much bad 'comedic' moments due to said sound and music choices in We Are too).

But back to UWMA, because that enbodies most of my gripes with New Siwaj. Honestly, I was crying four minutes into the show because Earth and Kao's performances were so good and the scenes around it decently well made. But man, does this create a tone problem, if a) - again, personal opinion- the actors you cast to play the reincarnated version of the characters can't hold much of a candle to the actors you cast for the original characters - and really i don't know how much of this is really to be blamed on Fluke and Ohm, and how much on direction and b) you create such a tone discrepancy between the past and current scenes that it makes your audience start to dread the actually god parts of the show because you're getting whiplash from pretty shallow uni badoing (yes i am aware i would probably feel different about this point if I liked Fluke and Ohm's performance as a couple) versus a sad and so deeply queer traumatic story that always had the damocles sword of it's ending hanging above it. New Siwaj wasn't able to sell me that those are supposed to be the same people because of that massive disconnect.

I have to say also, I sorta enjoy Pharm and Dean as a background couple in Between Us, weirdly. I just can't understand New's direction choices with their romantic scenes in UWMA which are - to me - hard to watch with Pharm looking very much like he's feeling incredibly uncomfortable. To be honest, I have so far only seen one actor pull off that kind of flinching away and looking so very conflicted in a supposedly romantic kiss scene in a way that still came across as mutually enjoyable for both character. That actor being Gun Atthaphan, which I am aware is unfair to compare people to, because his level is difficult to reach. But I am saying this to emphasize that New - again, to me - either didn't chose the right actors for Pharm and Dean or didn't know how to direct them. I enjoy Pharm with his friends and Dean with his club is fine, but the second those two appear on a screen together, the show flatlines because of missing chemistry and weird acting and/or direction choices.

Unfortunately the show does all of that to a point that it takes it good parts (primarily the scenes from the past) down with it. I am paraphrasing a stolen quote here - but the crime this show commits is being in parts so bad that it starts to make me question if the good parts of it were actually that good to begin with, or if New Siwaj only got lucky with a very good actor choice that didn't need much input from him.

And i am saying that all as someone who loves the reincarnation trope.

So, closing the lid on the topic of UWMA for this post.

What about other shows of his?

1) A Boss and a Babe. I genuinely didn't know until this second that that was one of his (apparently because the app version of MDL is very bad). It doesn't suffer from my usual issues with him to the same extent. I gave the show a solid 7.5/10 when i watched it and still stick with that. ForceBook also bounce nicely off each other, added plus.

2) Between Us. Surprisingly I am actually enjoying this show, mostly. It integrates it traumatic background stories much better into the story. BounPrem have good chemistry, so I can vibe with that. It basically had most of the good parts of UWMA (minus the past backstory) while leaving out the things I had issues with. My issue here was mostly what I wrote above about background music ruining scenes. I saw one minor harmful stereotype that I see in too many other BLs too, but besides that it's okay.

3) We are. It took me a while to get into that one. As mentioned above the overabundance and bad usage of sound effects in episode 1 is so awful that it made the entire show (and Tan especially - somehow it managed that) incredibly annoying. This show can't shut up. And I don't mean the actors, I mean the fucking noises. Like it doesn't trust its actors to bring the point across and actually act without SPRINGSPROINGBADOINGMEOW in the background. Besides that - the show is okay. It has its good moments. It's a uni BL with all that goes along with it, which isn't super my thing, but I can deal with it if I get great characters and an interesting story. Which in the case of We Are... eh. The thing is I feel like most of the actors can and have done better, like, the performances weren't bad, but for example I feel like Pond and Phuwin wouldn't have needed to be in that show. Those roles could have been filled by many other people, and Pond and Phuwin could have gotten something more up to their acting skills. Only standout actor for me was Aou, he took Tan and run with him in a way that gave other people a run for their money, and TanFang greatly benefitted from that. And ChainPun was cute but only a single crumb. I don't know if We Are actually could really be improved on much (besides the noise noise NOISE NOISE) and I absolutely believe this is a very valid choice for a comfort show if you don't mind the noise. I gave it a 7/10 which is very nice of me given the NOISE.

Yeah, so. Summed up: I don't think he's good at utilitizing his actors, sometimes he struggles with trusting them to create athmosphere with their acting and I still don't know what's up with Dean and Pharm if that's bad casting or bad direction. He unfortunately likes giving his BLs the soundscape and soundtrack of a Looney Tunes cartoon with sadly zero of that one's comedic timing or feeling for scenes. That's probably also to be blamed on his sound and music team, but it is *his* choice to use it like that.

I am sorry that this still turned into a rant, but New Siwaj definitely gets me going.

[somevillainfuckery]

Howdy Dowdy, Guys Gals & Non-binary Pals, Time for a Life Update

Its a bit past 2:00 now I haven't slept a wink My dickhead aunt and her bf have complete control over the temperature bullshit in my house, so the house is cold asf rn (THEY NEVER TURN OFF THE GODDAMN AC) I'm running on shitty fanfiction and the will to make like- 6 cavities go away because they don't hurt but I've still completely fucked myself over and I HATE the dentist We're moving soon [majority of shit in my house is already in storage except clothes, and dishes, and the singular functioning tv], I just have literally no fucking clue where we are moving to

Lets see uhm what else- Discord is indeed working, yippie ofc, but I- [*thinking thoughts being thunk*] I lost motivation to talk to people for some reason, at least I think Im wording that right. Mostly cause on Discord, I love the people I talk to, I really do, but I never realized how hard it is being a therapist in a jester costume for everyone, so with that plus all the bullshit of moving plus the fact not a single person in my family can get along for more than five seconds uhm... yeah- I'm exhausted, and because its only two people moving all this shit [that being me and my parental figure] I feel like my bones got thrown into a blender, which doesn't help because I'm naturally weak to the point even my xbox alone is super heavy- dunno if my weak ass body structure should be a concerning thing??

BUT- LISTEN UP- HEAR ME OUT- Me and my parental figure MIGHT be getting into this really nice 1 bedroom apartment, its not much, but its super pretty, and theres actually other families there n shit, so like ✨yay I finally get to socialize face to face with people even though face-to-face interaction sounds like a dream and a nightmare✨ PLUS- I got the haircut I've been dying for, and it came out super nice :D PLUS PLUS- I got some super old slinkydog toy and a switchblade comb from Cracker Barrel PLUS PLUS PLUS- Its been a very long time since I've been yelled at, and so far, no physical harm has been done to me by my family [aside from my toddler cousins punching me and shooting me with nerf guns Lmao] so FUCK YEEEAAAHHH FEELIN ✨G O O D✨

PLUS PLUS PLUS PLUS- I'm finally getting a job soon [my school NEVER gave me a work permit, and I'm old enough to work anyways]. I'm planning at working at the movie theater since we already live close to it, and if we get the apartment I had liked, we still live close to it :D It'll probably be sometime after we get settled in the new place

Life ain't too bad rn, I've randomly been getting like- midnight existential dread??- that or my random spikes of paranoia are just really kicking in because of the move- so now whatever the fuck it is is just being used as a motivation to focus on a future I want, will enjoy, and will support me all throughout. For once, I actually see my future being bright :D

[science-bastard]

yaaaayyyyy thank you for your endorsement in the notes :3 i’m putting this under the cut in case people from my d&d group are following me (i know the DM does but they already know the lore on the how and why of the cannibalism ;3c)

okay so her name is Diphylleia (Dip for short) and her backstory is a bit of a Giorno Giovanna ripoff but shhhhh don’t worry about it. she’s named after the flower of the same name, whose petals turn clear when wet. unrelated but she also talks :) like :3 this :0. don’t ask how she pronounces the emoticons out loud but she does it very distinctly. you can feel the “:)”.

her hometown is a busy port full of fairies and features a less-than-stellar cartography guild. the guild is making bad maps on purpose so they can lure sailors into traps and extort them for their money or their lives. they also may or may not have carried out a few hits in this manner. basically they’re super corrupt despite only being a cartography guild.

Dip’s dream is to take down this guild from the inside, so she joins the guild and gets assigned to one of their ships. she learns how to make maps (duh) and really builds on her existing background in ass-kicking when she starts defending the ship from monsters. (and also that one tax collector in one of the ports they visit.)

somewhere in the middle of all this, she befriends another fairy on her ship by the name of Echeveria, also a slayer of sea monsters and tax collectors. at one point he talks about his experiences as a trans man, making her realize that she herself is a girl actually. T4T bi4bi romance ensues. Dip proposes to him, and he says yes.

during one absolutely dogshit storm, their ship sinks. Dip, Echeveria, and four others wash up on what is, charitably, a very large rock. no animals, no fish, very few plants to speak of, none of which are edible. over course of the next several weeks, the survivors slowly starve.

eventually, it gets to a point where people start dropping. four of them are down within two days, leaving only Dip and Echeveria. they’re too weak to even move the bodies, let alone get up and search for food again.

they resort to mutually cannibalizing each other. it’s genuinely very romantic for both of them. Dip realizes that eating her fiancé doesn’t feel bad at all, not at all like she thought it would, and loses control of herself. Echeveria instinctively fights back at first, but soon he relaxes of his own volition and lets her eat her fill.

when she finishes, she’s in complete horror at what she’s done. this leads her to take one of his bones with her when a passing ship finally picks her up a few days later, which she later incorporates into the hilt of her rapier.

Dip immediately boxes all of this up and pretends none of it ever happened as she is assigned to a new cartography ship upon her return. sometimes though, she finds herself experiencing a new sort of hunger. she knows what it’s like to be hungry for food (better than most people, even), but this is… different.

so she ends up eating more people occasionally, but she has rules about who and when and how she eats them so it’s basically fine. :] the rules are:

any humanoid creature is fair game. (she is not limites to just fairies.)

no eating living people.*

no killing people for the sole purpose of eating them. if someone attacks her and she kills them, then it’s fine, but she won’t kill some random passerby just because she’s feeling peckish.

no eating friends, even if they die. (yes this is very hypocritical but echeveria was ✨special✨)

*one party member, COMPLETELY of their own volition and without knowing Dip’s backstory, is cutting off pieces of his own flesh to feed her once he finds out about her uhhhh “protein-heavy diet.”

there’s waaaaayyyy more still but i’m unironically having so much fun :3c

hey who wants to hear about my d&d character she’s a fairy fighter and also a cannibal

[wandaromanova]

Little Sister

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: one cuss word, minor BW spoilers

A/N: hello! i’d like to note that this takes place sometime before the events in the Black Widow movie! if you haven’t seen the movie yet, please skip over this story and come back later if you’d like! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiii i have a fluff request after seeing bw haha: could you do nat x fem reader where they're laying in bed snuggling, and r asks her about her family and nat tells her and r notices how cute she looks when she's talking about yelena and it's so soft and ahhhh

Summary: Natasha tells her girlfriend about a piece of her past that she never talks about; her sister.

Word Count: 2K

| masterlist | request rules/guidelines | wips |

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Natasha Romanoff has lived a lot of lives. She has been through more than most.

Nat had been taken as an infant by an organization that trained little girls to become lethal assassins.

She was psychologically conditioned to become a killer, having taken more lives than she could count.

Eventually, Natasha had managed to break free from the cage she was forced into and was recruited as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent; it was a new start for her, an opportunity to compensate for the red in her ledger.

So, Natasha took her job seriously, saving as many people as she could, even more so when she became an Avenger; one of earth’s mightiest heroes.

Natasha found something in the team that she never really had before; a family. She found a home within the dysfunctional team she had been recruited into.

Not only did Natasha find a family within the Avengers; she also found the love of her life.

Natasha hadn’t even considered the possibility of ever finding love.

For starters, the Red Room had instilled the concept that love was nothing but a distraction; a liability.

She had been taught that love was for children and it was nothing but a weakness that needed to be avoided at all costs.

She was quite literally programmed to be emotionally closed off and to always have her guard up. Letting someone into her heart was a risk she didn’t want to take.

When Natasha gained her independence from the organization, she had to do a lot of self-discovering. She had never been able to be her own person, but now that she could, she quickly learned that she didn’t even know herself.

However, it was Natasha’s insecurities that truly turned her off from the entire idea of love.

How could any ever possibly love her? She thought she was a monster for the things she’d done. She has done the unspeakable since ever she was a child.

What if she wasn’t enough? What if her baggage was too much for someone else to carry? She didn’t want to be a burden. She didn’t want to have to protect someone, just to fail them like she had failed so many others.

Natasha was positive that no one would ever be crazy enough to love her.

Little did she know, she would end up finding someone crazy enough to do so; you.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

When the Avengers were formed, you were extremely nervous about it.

All of the files that you’ve read on your new teammates were unbelievable; they were all phenomenal in their own rights. A super-soldier, a god, a genius, a trained-spy.

You were a spy yourself, so you knew exactly who Natasha Romanoff was. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D legend, the best of the best.

You were more nervous about meeting her than anyone else. What if she judged you? What if she didn’t think you were good enough to be an agent, let alone an Avenger?

Not only was she your superior, but she was also your crush. Yeah, you’d never even met the woman before, but you were crushing on her hard.

She was drop-dead gorgeous, but also quite literally a deadly force. Natasha could easily take down anyone she wanted to, and honestly, you wanted to be one of those lucky people.

When you met Natasha for the first time, you were a flustered mess. The redhead found it amusing, how your cheeks turned a bright shade of red and you stumbled over your words as you praised her work.

Natasha never told you this, but she was immediately smitten the moment she laid eyes on you.

There was a kindness and positivity that just radiated off of you and it was extremely contagious.

You were this beaming ball of light that lit up the darkest parts of her soul.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You got to know Natasha extremely well while being on the team. From observing her closely and paying very close attention to her actions, you had managed to pick up on little things.

She didn’t put any creamer or sugar in her sugar; opting for strong, black coffee.

She was kind of a clean freak. If she saw something out of place, she would be quick to put it in the correct place or position.

When she was happy, she would let a small smirk cross her features. When she was annoyed, she would raise her eyebrows.

When she was stressed out or angry, three little creases would appear on her forehead as her eyebrows would knit together tightly; a subtle frown on her face.

Of course, when you began dating the redhead, you didn’t really have to survey her so closely anymore because she’d tell you things herself.

No matter the circumstances, Natasha would always come to you and rant about it. Whether it was about how shitty a mission went or how she beat Clint’s ass during training; you were the only person she wanted to tell.

Natasha had opened up to you, something she never did with anyone. She told you all about her past.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You had some knowledge of Natasha’s previous life, considering it was in her files, but you didn’t realize just how horrible her childhood truly was.

The Red Room, the heavy weight of guilt that rests on her shoulders, the nightmares that forced her to relive the murders she committed, her time as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, and becoming an Avenger.

She’d go on and on about her road to redemption or ‘clearing the red out of her ledger.’

Natasha was terrified when she told you about her demons. She figured you were going to leave her the second she finished talking, waiting for you to get up and walk out the door, but you didn’t.

So, you completely caught her off guard when you pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, placing a soft kiss onto her temple, the redhead relaxing in your embrace.

“You’re the strongest person I know. It’s not your fault, you were forced and conditioned to do the things you did.”

Natasha focused on the sound of your voice and took in your words as you softly caressed her red locks with one hand.

“Baby, the amount of respect I have for you is immeasurable. I applaud you for turning your life around for the better. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Your words had brought tears to Natasha’s eyes, which was a rare occurrence.

She was expecting you to run for the hills, but you chose to pull her closer instead.

In that moment, Natasha knew she never had to be afraid of love again.

You were the most understanding and accepting person she’d ever met.

You would never judge her for her worst mistakes; Natasha had found the one for her and she wasn’t ever going to let go.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

Now, a few months later and a year into your relationship with the Russian, you were both lying in bed and cuddling.

You were both watching a movie when a particular scene came on. It was of a family gathering around a Christmas tree, children excitedly opening up presents with gleeful smiles across their faces.

“You know, my sister and I got to take pictures with a Christmas tree once.” Natasha spoke, her eyes fixated on the screen.

You looked up at her in shock. You didn’t know that Natasha had a sister. She told you that she didn’t even so much as know her parent’s names.

Natasha looked down and noticed your confused expression. She reached for the remote on the bedside table and paused the movie before returning her gaze to you.

“There was a mission I was assigned to in Ohio, as a kid. I was assigned to play the daughter of two other Russian spies, Alexei and Melina. It wasn’t just me though, there was a little girl who was assigned as my younger sister. Her name is Yelena.”

Natasha had a reminiscent, happy smile on her face as she recalled the brief period time of her childhood. She looked absolutely adorable as she rambled on about this part of her childhood.

“We took photoshoots of various holidays to make our family look more realistic. My favorite one was Christmas. Even though I knew they were just empty boxes, I wanted to rip open every single one.”

Natasha let out a small giggle at the thought. Even though she had a smile on her face, you could feel and hear the underlying tone of sadness in her voice.

“Yelena and I would spend hours outside, just playing together. Swinging on the swing-sets, looking up at the stars, bending over backward, and getting into a ridiculous competition to see who could hold the position the longest… I always let her win.”

You could see the fondness in her eyes, the longing. It warmed your heart that there was a small glimmer of light in Natasha’s past. There was at least a sliver of hope that she clung tightly onto throughout her time in the Red Room.

“After 3 years, the mission ended. Yelena and I were sent back to the Red Room and were torn apart from one another.

Natasha’s breathing grew heavier as she recalled the unfaithful day. The sight of her sister being taken, and not being able to do anything to help her; still haunted the redhead to this day.

“There were so many men with guns and armor, they literally ripped us away from each other. I was eleven and she was only six.”

Your heart sunk at your girlfriend’s words as her smile dropped. She tore her eyes away from yours as she blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, but failed. You reached your hand up to her cheek and wiped away the fallen droplets.

“I haven’t seen her since. I’d like to think that she found a way out and got a life of her own; a nice, happy life.”

Natasha placed her hand on top of yours before looking down at you once more. You sent her a soft smile when she let out a shaky breath.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I knew that the it was all fake, but it was still the best part of my childhood. It was real to me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You nodded your head at her words. She took a brief pause, trying to regain her composure, before continuing.

“Even if we have no true relation to one another, and even if I haven’t seen her in years, she is still my little sister.”

Natasha finished off with a big gasp as sobs wracked her body. You sat up from her embrace and pulled her into your arms, just like you had many times before.

You rubbed her back soothingly as she cried into your shoulder, her tears hitting the exposed skin.

“She sounds amazing, baby. I’m really happy that you had some sort of happiness back then and I hope one day you get to see her again.”

You whispered and Natasha pulled away from the hug, still in your arms as her emerald eyes surrounded by a sea of red, a result of her crying.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I doubt she’d even want to see me. I didn’t even try to find her. I’m a horrible sister! I-“

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You immediately pressed your lips against hers, effectively getting the Russian to calm down. You broke the kiss when her breathing slowed.

“Honey, of course, she’d want to see you again. Like you said, you guys are sisters. I’m positive that it was just as real to her as it was to you.”

You reassured your girlfriend, her eyes a pool of worry and guilt. You rubbed your thumb against her waist, the material of your her hoodie beneath your touch.

“From what you’ve told me about the Red Room, it would’ve been impossible to find her. Stop beating yourself up over it. You’re the best, and I’m totally not biased or anything.”

Natasha let out a small chuckle at that and you smiled at her, wiping away the last of her tears. She collapsed into your hold further, shoving her face into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you so much.”

Natasha’s words came out muffled as her face pressed further into your skin.

“You never need to thank me for anything. I’ll always be here for you, Natty.”

You hugged her as tight as you possibly could, her cold skin meeting your warmth. Natasha let out a small sigh at the feeling.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wherever you go, I go.”

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[yeojaa]

feed me, fight me.

pairing.  boxer!jjk x f!reader.  rating.  explicit.  tags.  relationship issues, baby angst, comfort, unprotected sex (please be responsible!).  wc. 3.5k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif​, always.  💖  author note.  i’m really into comfort fics rn so... 

What do you get when you mix a pissed off girlfriend with a neglectful boyfriend?  (Aside from trouble, that is.)

The answer is you - throwing punches far harder than you should be, completely disregarding the fact that you’re meant to be playing the part of perfect partner, meeting pads in the sequence he’s laid out.  It’s you throwing a hook when you should be swinging an uppercut.  It’s you, snapping your leg out with a satisfying thunk! of your shin when you should only be thip kicking.  It’s you, not giving a single damn as you take out all your frustrations on someone who’s growing increasingly more irritated by your childishness.  It’s you, blatantly disrespecting him in his ring - sending a reminder that there’s more to life than the four corners of this space. 

How can he blame you though, when he’s the reason?  When you’ve voiced your annoyance more than once - more than twice, more times than you care to count - and each time it’s met with a half-hearted apology (if you could even call it that)?  How can he hold it against you when you’ve asked, demanded, pleaded for more? 

“Cut it out,”  he seethes, quiet, under his breath, irritation igniting his expression, something hot and angry burning in the dark of his stare.  A withering wildfire in an empty field, smoldering coals flickering bright.  It presents itself in how his mouth curls, the hard line of his jaw as bone threatens to snap in half from the tension. 

“Cut what out?”  Your retort is punctuated by the smack of leather on leather, the worn edge of your boxing glove meeting the pad that Jungkook raises just in time to avoid a black eye. 

“What’s your problem?”  How he manages to snipe back - somehow sounding disgruntled by your behaviour - you’re not sure.  All you know is it boils your blood, searing heat within your veins when he effortlessly blocks your next jab.  He knows you well and knows the sport better, predicting each movement as if you’re telegraphing it all with a giant neon sign on your forehead. 

(You probably are.  You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions, pinning your heart on your sleeve, your sadness heavy in your mouth.  They wear you, rather than you it.  A weakness of yours.)

“You’re my problem.” 

“Shut up.”  It’s not the usual exasperated annoyance he levels you with, meaner and paired with a swat of your gloved hand.  He’s not supposed to be countering you, instead only blocking the punches you throw his way. 

(But then again - when did he ever listen to you?  When did he ever do what he was supposed to?)

(It’s not a fair assertion.  You’re just mad.  Livid beyond belief, standing atop this hill that you’ll happily die on.)

“Fuck you,”  you snap, offering the petulant comeback in the same instance you surge forward.  He blocks your jab - sees it coming from a mile away - and goes to block your hook. 

Except it never comes, your knee straightening out instead, hard edge of your shin slamming right into the side of his leg. 

He crumples more out of surprise than anything, eyes wide, all the anger swept away by something closer to astonishment.  It shines impossibly bright in his eyes, turning his entire expression upside down when his knee hits the ground.  By how he falls, you’re sure you’ve hit just the right spot, left his nerve endings buzzing uncomfortably as the feeling leaves the limb. 

“Are you serious?”  You know he’s genuinely baffled then, voice slipping, cracking in a way you’d normally find adorable.  (It goes to show how upset you are, the awkward split of his words doing nothing to soothe your temper.)  “What’s your issue?”  He’s still seated on the floor, rocking back on his heels, brow knit in consternation.  It’d take him seconds to jump up - to put you on your ass - but he chooses to remain where he is, staring up at you with that look on his face.

(That look you love.  That you hate.  That makes your insides turn to goo on his best days and misery on your worst.  That you’ve seen every single day for the last three years, as the first thing upon waking up and the last thing before passing out.  That makes you hesitate now, peering down into it.)

(Were you being unnecessary?  Unbearable?  Was this on you?)

“I’m going home.”  It’d be nice to tear your gloves off, throw them in his face and storm off in a huff.  It’d cause the scene you’re hoping for, push him to where you need.  (Because that’s the thing about Jungkook - he doesn’t react otherwise and you’re sick of it.)  Instead, you turn on your heel and slink away, silent as a mouse.  

You’re tired.  Too tired.  Why had you started something you couldn’t finish?

It shouldn’t surprise you that you’re home alone for hours that night, curled up in bed and half-asleep when light from the hallway spills into your bedroom.  It comes with hardly any noise, a tell-tale sign he’s trying not to wake you (or disturb you or get caught).  You almost let it slide when his figure appears in the doorway, broad frame swallowed up by the oversized sweater he wears.

He’s moving near silently, having already deposited his gym bag in the laundry room.  He doesn’t even switch the light on, moving around in the muted glow of the hallway, fumbling as he strips his clothes off and tosses them into the hamper against the wall. 

You expect him to head directly into the en suite, wash away whatever grime he’s accumulated throughout the day.  He’s always been this way, far too concerned with dragging in odour and dirt into your bed to do otherwise.

Except tonight, he doesn’t follow his usual routine.  Tonight, he makes a detour.

The bed dips before you realise what’s happening, grip on the pillow under your head tightening.  Words fit between your teeth, ready to spill out, lash out, tear out like a bullet deadset on landing a bullseye. 

“I’m sorry.”  Two words you’ve been waiting to hear, that startle you enough to throw your anger out the window, tossing them out with the wash.  “I don’t know why you’re upset but I’m sorry for whatever it is.”  He’s speaking into the quiet of your bedroom.  You can feel his hand settled on the bed, wrist somewhere over the line of your spine.  

Oh - he thinks you’re asleep.

“Things have been crazy.  I’ve been stressed.”  Here, under cover of night, he’s vulnerable, explanation tumbling forth uncertainly.  You can hear it in the way the words form, syllables slipping into each other - a sure sign of his exhaustion.  “I know that’s not an excuse, so I’ll be better.”  Though he readjusts, weight distributing differently over the bed, he isn’t touching you.  You can only imagine how he looks, the posture he’s taken on, arms leant over knees, hands twisting together in that way of his that begs a silent help me.  A version of him you’ve seen only a handful of times.  

(Jeon Jungkook does not let things get to him.  Never has, likely never will.  He’s immaculately put together, strung tight by years of growing up too fast, wanting too much and fearing it’ll slip away.  He goes and goes until he can’t any more and only then does he still, crashing headlong over a cliff of his own creation.)

It’s then that you realise while you’ve grown irritated with his preoccupation, coming second to the man you’ve only ever put first, he’s been suffering right alongside you.  Differently, certainly, but suffering nonetheless.  Holding his cards close as he’s always done, shouldering all the things on his own and hoping for the best.

Irritation flares first.  Anger at the fact that he hadn’t confided in you.  It burns bright, erodes everything else in its path.

And then it dims almost immediately, overshadowed by a tenderness that blooms in the small of your chest.  Rosebuds that fill the cavity and swath affection in broad strokes, colouring everything purple - a pretty mosaic made up of equal parts love and sadness.

“You should’ve said something.”  

Bambi-eyed baby is your nickname for your boyfriend - one he reluctantly wears, scowls at when you use it in public - and yet you’re still blown away by the glossiness of his stare, how wide it goes when you roll to face him, simultaneously flicking your bedside light on.  There’s embarrassment crowding his expression, lighting up every handsome facet of his features in technicolour.  He works to hide it almost immediately, moves back on the bed as if he might find himself a home in the shadows.

“I thought you were sleeping,”  he mumbles, not quite looking at you, stare focused on your pillow case, the white linen that you’d bought when you’d moved in together.  “Did I wake you up?”

Though his concern is real, you know it’s a distraction too.  His way of deflecting, shifting the focus back to you.  

(Jeon Jungkook doesn’t live in the spotlight.  Hates it, in fact.  It’s a curious combination - wanting to be praised, to show off, and yet fearing failure so strongly.  A worrying mix when he’s down and an endearing one when he’s up.)

You’re still cocooned, still held far enough away that he hasn’t run for the hills, locking himself in the bathroom to put a further physical barrier between you.  Should you move too fast, you know he’ll spook.  Push too hard, he’ll leave.  

“Couldn’t sleep without you.”  It’s true enough.  Dreams had evaded you for the better part of the evening, held somewhere by hands inked like his, blemished by scars and calluses like his. They’d been kept in his coat pocket, tucked behind his ear.  (So maybe it’d been anger, too, that’d kept you up.  That doesn’t matter now.)

The disbelief is evident, both in his words and the quirk of his mouth, bathed in dim light.  “Really?”

(You sometimes wonder how different the two of you see things.  What a day looks like from his point of view - whether he reads all of your interactions in the same way.  You’ve always been terribly incompatible in that way, opposites in so many respects that it’d frankly baffled your friends when you’d started dating.

You were intent - sometimes too intent - on resolving problems, never letting up.  Forcing conversations you felt you needed to have, demanding answers even before there was one.  He, on the other hand, was uncomfortable with conflict, choosing to ignore the things that bothered him until they went away.  It’d driven you absolutely insane at first, made you worry that it was you that was the issue, simply being too much.  

But over time - three long years, to be exact - you’d found a common ground.  Or so you’d thought.)

“Why are you so surprised?”  

“You were pissed earlier.”  There’s a lightness to his tone, careful consideration poured into each word he offers, as if he’s navigating a minefield.  You’ve had these kinds of disagreements too many times for him to believe otherwise, as if his caution is a part of him, stitched lovingly - forcefully - by your hand.  “Thought you wouldn’t wait up for me.”  

“I shouldn’t have,”  you retort before you can help it, still just a little childish, a little hurt.  “But you know I hate going to bed angry.”  Of course he knows.  He’s lost hours of sleep due to your insistence that everything be talked out. 

He hums a noncommittal sound - more of a grunt - and you know your window is closing.  Now that you’re not out for blood, he’s retreating as he always does.  Readying himself to rise from the bed, close this half-read chapter and move onto the next. 

You beat him before he can, curling your fingers around his wrist, over the dangling silver chain.  (His birthday gift this year, heavy metal that’s cold under your touch.)  

“Don’t.”

One blink.  Another.  Slow and confused - deliberately so.  Then he’s looking away, staring down at the ground as if you haven’t just read his next move.  The ring might be his domain but home is yours;  it’s the one place you hold the upper hand.  “What?”  

“Don’t leave.”  It’s easy to read the meaning in between your words, the unspoken request that might as well be brilliant red ink.  It’s far kinder than your usual demands, more pleading than begrudging, more need than want.  

“I need to shower.”  

It’s not a no - which you suppose is a win. 

“Just wait.”  Your request comes with an adjustment, whole tired frame rising from the bed only to sink back down - this time against your partner, your other half, your infuriating love.  He accepts you readily, dropping his ink-strewn hand over your covered thigh.  The weight is comforting over the warmth of the duvet, grounding you in the quiet of your home.

“I’m gross,”  he complains, though he doesn’t make to move away.  Stays right by your side when you drop your head against his bare shoulder.  “Now you’re gross.”

“We can be gross together.”  Because you’re not ready for him to leave you, to close the door as he so often does.  (And, for once, you’re not quite as angry, not seeking an argument that’ll give you the resolution you hope for.  You want communication, open and honest.  You want him, vulnerable and soft.)

A little sigh comes, a puff of breath that expands his doughy cheeks and sends wayward strands fluttering.  It’s less resigned and more endeared - you know how much it means when his acquiesces like this.  

Maybe he wants those same things, you think.  

“Do you wanna shower?”  You ask in perfect tandem, words folding together.  You nod in the same way.

Encased in the small space - it’s different.  He’s preoccupied, back turned to you, shielding you from the slow-heating stream.  It’s as if his mind is a thousand lightyears away, trapped somewhere with the stars as the water rains down around the two of you, fogging the glass and wetting his hair. 

“Babe?”  

There’s a delay before he reacts, peering over his shoulder at you, a faraway look in his eyes.  You wonder what he’d been thinking of, whether he’s still on the same page as you or if he’s skipped ahead as he tends to do.  When he speaks, you have your answer, his words flicking through paper to bring you two where you need to be.  

“Can you wash my hair?”  An indulgent treat he rarely requests, one he seldom allows.  He’s far too on the go, jumping from this to that to spend much time like this with you. 

It’s a sign if there ever was one. 

You reach for your shampoo bottle wordlessly, popping the cap and depositing sweet peach-scented liquid into your hands.  They fold into his strands carefully, tips of your fingers pressing into his scalp, delightful bubbles accumulating between your digits.  He doesn’t make a sound but you feel the way he relaxes, practically melting into your touch as you work the cleanser through his roots, careful to keep the suds from descending into his eyes. 

When was the last time you’d done this?  Weeks ago?  Months, maybe?  You honestly can’t recall.  (Not that it matters now.  You’ve found yourselves back here, terribly tender and intimate in the dead of night.  Almost as if no time has passed at all.)

Silence stretches between the two of you.  You don’t even need to instruct him to rinse, running seamlessly through the routine without hesitation. 

Conditioner replaces shampoo, deft fingers combing through the few knots in his feather soft strands.  Though there are hardly any, you know he loves when you take extra care, treating him in ways he’d never ask for otherwise.  He savours these quiet moments of almost-solitude, spoiled rotten by your familiar touch and comforting affection.  

You’d give it every single day if you could.  Had, in fact. 

That’s what’d brought you here, after all. 

“‘m sorry,”  he says - mumbles really - surprising you as you’re working your fingers into the nape of his neck, concentrating on the tension that’s carved out a home beneath muscle and sinew, turned bone iron-clad. 

“For what?” 

Any other time, it might’ve come across demanding, needing an answer that would soothe whatever inadequacy he’d somehow strung your heart up with.  Now, it’s genuine, asked more for him than you.  

You want to be let in.  Need it. 

“Being out of it, I guess.”  It’s a lot for him - admitting this.  “I’ve just been busy and I guess I kind of just—“  The imposing line of his shoulders rise and fall, a mountain range disturbed by the uncertainty in his voice.  

“Forgot about me?”  You don’t mean it meanly.  It’s a simple statement of fact, one the both of you have to face. 

“Yeah.  Something like that.”

You deliberate accepting the apology and moving on, sweeping it under the rug because he’s already come so much further than you’d thought he would.  But that’s not the kind of person you are, so you press just a little more, stand just a little taller. 

“I don’t think I ask for the world, Kook.”  Maybe more than some people.  Maybe less than others.  “If I’m being too much, I’d rather you let me know than shut me out.”

A sigh comes, so heavy you wonder whether he might be Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.  

“No, I know.”  

“Do you?”

(At some point you’d stopped massaging the conditioner in, opting to crowd your hands over his back, working into the knots that run beneath his skin.  He hadn’t been lying - he’s stiff as a board, entire broad form twitching any time you press the pads of your thumbs into a particularly sensitive spot.)

“I thought I’d figure it out myself,”  he reasons, in that oh-so impossible Jeon Jungkook way of his.  “Didn't realise it was taking a toll on you.” 

“On us,”  you correct, not at all tactful.  

“On us,”  he agrees with another sigh, smaller this time, tinged blue with something that feels like guilt and fills up the glass space. 

“We’re a team, you know.” 

(You know he knows.  You just have to remind him sometimes, anchor him with the knowledge that it’s not him against the world.  That you’re in his corner - always.)

“I know.” 

When he turns to look at you - doesn’t even flinch when the sudden movement has you wobbling on your feet, catches you when you stumble - you don’t doubt that.  He loves you just as much as you love him, sees the whole world in the small of your stare.  

“I’m sorry,”  he says again, two hands coming to cradle your face, palms warm over each cheek.  “Just give me some time.”  For what, you’re not sure.  You don’t mind waiting to find out though - willing to weather the storm just to see him happy.  

Jungkook holds you close, threads his fingers through yours and peppers love into the silk of your hair.  Dresses your skin in the heat of his affection and sears his signature into the velvet of your skin, teeth dragging, tongue gliding.  

“Is this better?”  He means how he holds you, how he treats you like porcelain as he fucks you slow and tender, keeps one leg hooked back over his own. 

It’s not that this is the kind of lovemaking you prefer but rather the one you need, with him consuming you wholly, sweetly, filling you with each fluid roll of his hips and nothing else.  No elaborate dirty talk, no overzealous bouncing, just the two of you together, curled against each other like you might not survive otherwise.  

He’s not pushing you to your finish with deft fingers over your clit, not taking his fill with greedy hands.  He’s simply there, with you, feeling every curve of your body as he sinks into your aching cunt and sighs as if he’s in heaven.  (And maybe he is - because where he is could only ever be where you are and you feel like you’re floating, weightless and lovestruck, anchored only to your bed by the hand that squeezes yours and the mouth that purrs your name.) 

“Yes,”  you breathe, exhale in a breath that seems to take all of your effort.  It’s hard to focus when he splits you open so well, fills your pussy and your heart and makes your chest erupt with a kaleidoscope of butterflies. 

“I love you, sweetheart.”

When he says it like that - folds it like a promise and tucks it into the spot behind your ear - you know it’s true.  Even if you don’t always feel it, even if he doesn’t always show it, there’s not a doubt in your mind. 

In all the ways he can, he loves you.  And whether that means enough from one day to the next, you don’t mind sticking around to find out.  Not if it means more of this. 

(Of him, of you, of your life together.)

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle

[forthehpfanboys]

Three is a Crowd

Pair: Remus Lupin x Reader x Sirius Black; he/him.

Summary: Sirius, you and Remus weren't scared to hide your relationship, but when it came to more.. Private matters, they obviously preferred keeping it personal. Plus, who doesn't love teasing Remus?

Warnings: SMUT (MDI), dirty talk, poly relationship, Wolfstar (but is that even a warning?), hair pulling, short mention of daddy. use of a collar at the end. If I missed any, please dm me.

Notes: Me, knowing damn well I have a busy life, but takes every request I get because I can’t say no. Oh, and the gif by me using other people's gifs- Might make a part two. Top Remus tho. 

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

-

It wasn’t hard to catch the boy's attention. James and Lily loved to joke that they were wrapped around your finger, which they were. All you had to do was sway your hips a little bit or bend over right or just lick your lips innocently. They really were, they weren't afraid to admit it and of course you used it to your advantage, but you still love them. That always came first.

 Sirius and Remus had fallen head over heels for you during their time during Hogwarts. Both could pinpoint it exactly. The two men were already an item when you showed up at the school- a transfer student. You were introduced to them by Lily, something about you being a distant cousin of hers and you quickly became a new founded Marauder. 

Remus fell for you first. It was around the time they were all studying to become animagus and he discovered you were bloody brilliant! After months of struggling with the stupid ritual, you were the final piece they needed to figure it all out. And you didn’t judge him over something he couldn’t control, so that was a bonus to him, of course. But how could you judge him for his lycanthropy? Almost everyone in the wizarding world hated him for this one simple thing, 

Meanwhile, Sirius’ was a lot more simple. He noticed you by your slick comebacks. Like holy Merlin’s beard- Sirius was convinced your words could cause someone to physically combust. He’d never seen that happen, but he has seen you make 8th years cry. He’s also a hundred percent certain you have a thesaurus lying under your pillow. He didn’t know the word ‘imbecile’ had so many synonyms. And you helped him help his best friend so of course he fell in love with you.

So, when you fell for them, a natural love for being between both boys formed. This random craving would kick in whenever you were around the two of them. Whether it was you three walking to the next class or sitting in the Gryffindor common room, you just had to be between them. It was quite literally your favorite place on this planet. But there were rules- of course there were.  

One of the main rules was no teasing in front of friends. Believe it or not, James had a limit on how much sexual tension he could sit through in one lunch period, so he enforced the rule, which was.. Unusual to say the least. Usually Remus created the rules to keep you and Sirius in check. He had a switch and a sub under his belt and it could be a struggle, especially when they were bratty and they’d team up against him.

Which is exactly what you two had been doing all day; harassing poor Moony despite whoever was near. During potions, Sirius had palmed Remus while you playfully whispered in the werewolf’s ear, calling him daddy and asking for help with your most innocent voice. Watching your boyfriend squirm and slap Sirius’ hand away was genuinely humorous. It became down right funny when he threatened to punish both of you by not talking to you, but you both knew he’d do more than that. Knowing Remus would drag you both by your ties to the dorm room and straight up ruin you two, you both eased off him, letting him continue his notes in peace, but once potions were over, the teasing immediately continued.

Soon enough, classes were over and the three of you were walking back to the dorms. It was easy to see Remus was sick of your shit, so while he led you to his prefect room, you and Sirius were looking at each other. Sirius shrugged, looking as laid back as he felt, but you were a tad more nervous. Sometimes Remus could be downright mean. 

“You two are insufferable!” Remus hollered, his hand rubbing his temple as he shoved open his door. “I know you love my reactions, guys, but seriously? Was grabbing my ass over my robe necessary?” He had his arms crossed over his chest and turned around to glare at you and Sirius. 

“You know it was, baby.” Sirius winked while shutting the door behind him. He walked around you, dragging a hand across your lower back before diving onto Remus’  bed. He laid on his back, spreading his legs and placing his hands behind his head. Your eyes shamelessly dragged across the sliver of pelvic bone peaking out under his white collared shirt.

“I thought it was a bit much.” You shrugged, looking over to Moony’s glowing eyes. A smirk grew across your lips when he pointed at you, his eyes narrowing at you.

“Being a kiss ass does not mean you’re free, mister. You’re in just as much trouble as that one.” His point moved to the man laying on the bed, who clearly couldn’t care less. He ran a hand through his hair and plopped down onto the edge of the bed. He even smacked Sirius’ hand away when it gripped his hip. “Down, boy.”

“Ouchies! My pride.” Sirius mocked your voice and rubbed his hand, a chuckle leaving his lips. He couldn’t help but lick his lips. His dark eyes flicked over to you, his smirk growing as he nodded his head in the direction of Remus’ back.

“Good. I’m mad at you.” The werewolf ducked his head down before running a hand through his hair, making the curly locks messier than usual. He beckoned you over with two curling fingers and waited patiently for you to stand in front of him. Once you were in arms reach, he cupped both of your cheeks in each hand and smiled at you, bringing your face closer to his. “What am I going to do with you?” He whispered, his breath fanning over your lips. 

“I’m not sure, but I know Sirius technically did more damage than I did. I’m your bestest boy.” You grinned, grabbing his wrists and kissing a palm. Your grin turned into a side smirk when Sirius let out a weak ‘hey!’ behind your brunette boyfriend. 

Suddenly, Remus’ arms were twisting around your waist and he was falling backwards onto the bed, taking you down with him. You let out a yelp while colliding with your soft boyfriend's chest.

“I think I know what I’m going to do with you.” Remus’ head was resting on Sirius’ tummy, allowing the animagus to run his fingers through soft hazel nut locks, which Remus easily ignored. Meanwhile, Lupin was cheekily slipping his hand under your shirt. His calloused palms glided across your skin, rubbing your hip gently before moving up to your belly. “I’m going to ignore the little bastard behind me and I’m going to focus on you, pretty boy.”

“Hey! (Y/n) messed with you too, Rem! You’re being unfair!” Sirius sat up a little, bracing his body weight on his elbows as he glared down at his freckle covered partner. His jaw dropped when Remus flicked his nose before skillfully tugging your shirt over your head. “Un-fuckin’-believable.” Sirius grumbled, laying back on the bed and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Your smart mouth is why I’m ignoring you.” Remus spoke nonchalantly, one hand slipped into your back pocket, gave your butt a tight squeeze, while the other steadily began climbing toward your chest. His hand in your pocket held your hips down while his hips grinded up into yours. His eyes darkened at the needy whine that left your lips when his rough thumb pad ran over one of your nipple.

See, Remus always enjoyed seeing you react to him. He could write down all of it. He could fill enough books with his favorite things about you to cause an empty Hogwarts library to overflow. How your eyes would roll back into your skull, how your jaw would go slack with need and how your breath catches in the middle of your throat, leaving you breathless, how you’d moan his name. He loved wrecking you, utterly destroying you.

His scar covered hand moved up to your hip, getting a steadier grip so he could really raise his hips and roll them against yours. The hand on his chest delicately rolled a nipple between the thumb and forefinger. He thought you were a piece of art, painted just for him. Your heart was pounding in your ears. Remus was quickly becoming the only coherent thought in your head. You could smell his perfume and it was only fogging up your head worse than his touch. You let out a moan, your eyelids drooping a tad.

"You like that, baby?" he whispered into your open mouth, kissing the corner before sliding his lips down to the corner of your jaw. He licked a fat, flat line across the point, running up to your earlobe before sucking on it. 

The werewolf grinded up into you harder, a growl emitting from his throat that would scare even the toughest of creatures. He let out a loud, breathy loan when you nodded and copied his hip movements. 

"Of course you do. You're not a brat or a whiney bitch- you're perfect." 

Suddenly, Sirius was sitting up and Remus was going silent, almost frozen in his place. Both were listening quite intently over your heavy breathing when loud, stomping footprints made themselves known. Sirius watched in amusement while Remus threw you on to the empty bed space next to him and magicked a blanket over the both of you.

James was pushing open the door about as loudly and hazardously as his footsteps. The door bounced off the wall and collided with his still outstretched arm. You sat up, slowly coming back from the pleasure filled bliss, and slowly becoming more and more pissed you just got cock-blocked by one of your more oblivious friends.

“James, sorry, mate, we’re in the mi-” Sirius was rudely cut off by the messy haired idiot. Spit flew from James’ mouth as he spoke aggressively, his hand waving around as he spoke.

"Can you believe him?!" the Seeker hollered, acting as if his friends, best friends knew immediately what he was talking about. He strode into the middle of the room, pacing in front of the polygamous couple, clearly pissed. It didn't take long for Peter to follow in after, either. 

"No, Prongs, you're not exactly telling us anything." Remus spoke up, acting as if he totally wasn't just grinding against you. He was good at keeping his voice level and that it had you confused. 

"Little Sour Grape Snape thinks he can try to push that whole fiasco on me like I meant for it to happen?" James yelled out again, almost completely ignoring Remus. Peter sat on the bed across from the trio, his eyes glued to James as he paced. You looked at Sirius, who turned to you, and shrugged, scooting to sit right next to Remus.  

"Wanna share what's goin' on, Pete?" Sirius asked, finally scooting to be face to face with the soft boy, and sitting on the other side of Remus. His hand landed on Remus' thigh, gently rubbing over the blanket.

The chubby boy played with his fingers, his mouth opening quickly to tell the tale of Snape and his stupid complaining and blood status shit. However, Remus, nor you, could focus because Sirius’ hand was moving under the blanket and going straight between Remus’ legs. 

The sun was setting behind the vast forest, effectively blocking natural light, leaving the room slightly colder and darker than before. Sirius knew it was hard to see what was going on under the blanket, so all carefulness got thrown out the window. 

Sirius' hand slid between Remus' thighs, using a hand to hide his smirk. He nodded his head along, as if he was really listening and invested in the story. You turned to Sirius, following his arm and the lump under the blanket and got the idea- and it only became reinforced when Sirius gave you a dramatic wink.

Your own hand slid under the blanket, landing on your werewolf boyfriend's knee, you thumb caressing it gently. Your hand didn’t stay there long. You began to move it up, moving slowly, just inch by inch, stopping suddenly when Remus’ hand clamped around your wrist.

“Boys, stop it.” Remus growled out, but it seemed more directed to Sirius. You were worried for a second that James or Peter heard, but when they kept going on and on, delving deeper and deeper into the story, you realized they were absolutely clueless. You decided to test the waters, slowly running your hand down and then back up, a tad higher, but Moony left his hand on your wrist.

“I said, cut it out. Now.” The brunette’s voice was deep enough to cause a shudder to go down your spine and it went straight to your dick. You jumped when his hand landed on your thigh, giving you a warning squeeze that you once again ignored and moved your hand closer to the inside of his thigh. 

You felt fingers run over yours at the top of his thigh and suddenly Remus’ thigh muscles were tightening. Padfoot had run his fingers over his hard-on. You knew you were both pushing it, but you kept going. You heard the brunette groan into his hand, his eyelids fluttering for a second before his gaze hardened and he sunk his teeth into his bottom lip. You could hear the low growl emitting from this throat.

So while James and Peter told their elaborate and stupidly long story, you both teased your partner, enjoying how he tried to sit still and refused to even look at you two. Remus’ jaw was pulled tight, his eyes darker than the night, and his lips drawn into a thin line. Eventually, it came to an end, and the two left, James complaining loudly that no one cared like he did and suddenly the blanket was thrown across the room.

Remus stood up, giving you a glare that you couldn’t help but find hot as hell. You always loved riling him up, but you also loved managing to wiggle out of punishments. Sirius always bitched about you getting away nearly scot free, but you’d just blow raspberries at him. It was funny, honestly, not that you were laughing now. It was clear both of you took it too far.

“You two are in a whole heap of fucking trouble. I can not believe you today, especially you. You’re such a bad influence on my baby.” Remus pointed at Sirius, his brows drawn tight together in pure anger. His eyes were lit up like with fire and the veins on his neck were protruding from underneath the skin in the sexiest way. The simple feature had you clenching your thighs, hoping to release some tension or get a touch or something.

“Our baby. Besides, you’re overreacting Rem.” Sirius shrugged, leaning back on his hands. He blew a stand of hair out of his face, acting like everything was fine and dandy while his boyfriend had steam blowing out of his ears.

His simple sentence caused the brunette’s eye to twitch and you knew he had dug himself a bigger whole. You put your hands in your lap like a good boy and sat, watching the two argue, knowing it was going to be a very long night.

“Oh. I’m overreacting, huh? Do you wanna say that again?” His tone was so flat, almost like he was talking to an idiotic teenager who did exactly what he was told not to do, the messy haired animagus was sitting up quickly, realizing he fucked up- again.

“No, no. That’s not what I meant, baby, you’re getting my words twisted. I meant it’s my fault and that you might be getting a tad carried away. Please don’t be mad at me.” Sirius put on his most dazzling smile and softest voice. He was trying to do what you did so well and wiggle his way out of punishments. “Have I ever mentioned how hot you look when you're mad?”

It was funny, really, how Sirius was saying exactly what you were thinking.

“No, dove, I’m not mad at you.” Remus threaded his hand slowly through Sirius' wavy hair, a small, sweet smile spread across his cheeks. Sirius let out a sigh, a huge grin matching his boyfriends, his eyes sparkling with pure joy in the dim light.

"I'm glad you're so understanding, honey bunches. I love you so, so, so much." Sirius spoke, leaning forward, lips puckered to plant a kiss to the brunettes. You really thought he had known Moony better. Moony very, very rarely let either of you off the hook for something like this. 

However, Remus didn't let him move very far. His fingers latched onto the hair at the top of Sirius' head and ripped it back, causing his neck to bend backward and a whorish moan escaped his lips. Siri’s hands shot up to grip the one tugging his head back and he had to strain his eyes to look at his Moony.

"I’m fucking livid, Sirius. You're such a slut. Surely you know me better than that. Have I ever let you get away with behavior like that?” Remus waited for an answer. He wasn’t very patient though, because soon, he was pulling on the long locks again. “Well?”

“No.” Sirius groaned out. He seemed grumpy he couldn’t cute his way out of this like he was sure you could. You figured you could probably avoid the punishment by sneaking out, knowing Remus wouldn’t send a search party after you. And if you made a good enough excuse, he’d let you go with a harsh spanking and the promise of no orgasms for the day, which didn’t seem too terrible.

“Do I have to treat you like a slut?" his lips pressed against a pulse point but didn't place a single kiss to Sirius' lips. "Maybe I should put a muzzle on your filthy mouth and tie you up. Put you in the closet while I fuck our dearest silly, hmm?"

Remus pulled away, this time tugging Sirius' eyes level with his. The werewolf let out a snicker, enjoying the way tears of pain had gathered in his boyfriends eyeline.

"I should teach you who's in charge. What do you say pumpkin?" Remus turned to the spot where you were seated and noticed it was empty. "Pumpkin?" He turned around and saw you trying to sneak out of the dorms door.

He reached into his pocket, tsking all the while casting a spell that caused a collar to appear around your neck with a pop. You let out a squeak, your heads going to the new leather.

"Do I have to put both of you in your place?” Remus pushed Sirius away and walked swiftly over to you, grabbing the d ring on the front of your collar. He gave it a tug, effectively keeping your eyes on his. “You’re not being my good boy, are you?”

“No..” Unlike Sirius, you answered quickly. You looked up at Remus, eyes wide, owlish and feigning innocence. “But I-”

“Quiet. You’re usually so good for me, darling. I bet you picked up the disrespect from our boyfriend, didn’t you? I’m gonna have to fuck the attitude out of you.” He tugged on the d-ring, dragging you with him as he walked back over to the bed. “Sirius, against the headboard.”

Without hesitation, the niorette shuffled toward the headboard, resting his back against it. He learned quickly to keep his mouth shut. With the new space made, Remus pushed you forward and laughed when your hands came out in front of you to catch your fall, but slipped on the silk bedspread. Your chest collided with the plush mattress, a pained cry leaving your lips when your knees collided with the wooden floor.

“Owie, Rem!” You turned to look back at him, but he grabbed your hair and forced your cheek against the mattress. You looked back at him, your cheeks turning pink with embarrassment and you tried to pout your way out of this, like usual.

“Shut up, bunny. Daddy’s not going easy on you this time, so be a good boy and take what I fucking give you.”

[wonhosbuttflower]

Hurts Like Hell

Pairing: Demon Chan x Human Reader (fem)

Genre: Demon AU; Fluff; Light Angst; starts as Suggestive and ends with Smut; “Fuckbuddies/Friends with benefits to lovers”.

Words: 6,1k

Summary:  You (human) and Chan (demon) are “friends with benefits"/”fuck buddies” and you both have other casual sexual partners, but you only have a true emotional bond with each other. Admitting to it is a different story though...

Warnings/Details: open relationship (context/mention); promiscuity (mention); cursing/offensive language; possessiveness; dry humping and choking (blink and you’ll miss it); unprotected sex (please wrap it up, guys, this is NOT a good example, practice safe sex, use a condom); lots and lots of ‘I love you’; cringey moments.

Note: Chan is an incubus, a sex demon blessed with lust, one of the seven deadly sins. The reader is human, but she has been blessed by a demon at birth, in this case, Lucifer. He blessed her with pride, another deadly sin, corrupting her soul with it but making her stronger than “normal” humans. Unlike humans, demons don’t have souls, but they have “auras”, which are their demonic personal essences.

Y/N – your name / Y/M/N – your middle name (if you have one) / Y/L/N – your last name

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He sits comfortably on the black armchair in the bedroom while you're on top of him, sitting facing him with your legs swinging over the edge. The make out session had started out hot and heavy, but it was turning into a softer and tamer one as time went by. What had started passionate and impatient had turned into an intimate moment of pure affection between you two. Eventually, you rest your face on his shoulder, taking in his scent as he holds you firmly in a warm hug. You both close your eyes and enjoy the feeling of simply being together. After about a minute, which seems like hours, he breaks the silence in the room.

'Can we just stay like this forever?', he asks in a low voice as he plants a playful kiss on your nose, which makes you scrunch before showing him a smile.

'Hmm, excuse me, who are you and have you done to Chan?', you let out jokingly without opening your eyes.

'What? This is nice.', he defends himself. You look up at him.

'Oh, don’t get me wrong, I love doing fun things with you, baby… It’s my favorite activity.’, he smirks. ‘But we always do that… I’m just saying, it’s nice to have a moment like this every now and then, to relax and just… I don’t know, to just be with you, doing absolutely nothing.’, he adds, grabbing your hand that was touching him and intertwining his fingers with yours.

'Yeah, it is, actually. But wouldn't you rather do other things forever? Like, fun things… Because I can think of a few things for us to do.’, you say, suggestively, slipping your hand under the fabric of his t-shirt to feel his abs.

‘Okay, now I’m officially worried. Since when would you choose to “do absolutely nothing” rather than having sex with the hottest girl in town?’, you joke.

‘Well, I get to be with you either way, so I win.’, he smiles and gives you a soft kiss. ‘What’s wrong with just staying like this for a while? You like it too, don’t even try to deny it.’

‘Sure, I like it… But you’re acting weird today. Actually, scratch that… You’ve been acting weird lately. So, what’s that about, what’s going on?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I don’t know, we just… You’ve just been really… hmm, nice, I guess. Like, you’ve been… sweet.’, you explain, making him chuckle.

‘Isn’t that a good thing? Why do you sound like you’re complaining? Do you not like it when I’m nice?’

‘I don’t know… I mean, I do, but it’s weird. I feel like something’s changing, and I don’t understand it. Sometimes I think you’re avoiding me or something. And now you’re passing on sex for a cute hug? You have to admit that’s kind of suspicious. Like, it’s fine, if you don’t want to do this, we…’

‘It’s not that, princess, I promise you.’, he cuts you off before you can finish.

‘Then, what’s the problem?’, you ask, letting go of his hand and rising up from where you laid against his chest to face him, hooking your arms around his neck for support.

‘I just… I have to be more cautious around you. You’re dangerous.’

‘What? What are you talking about? You’re a demon, for fuck’s sake. And I'm the dangerous one?’, you let out confused. He smiles, amused.

‘It’s too addicting… It’s like my own personal drug. And if I’m not careful, I might actually physically get hooked on it… I might get hooked on you.’, he says as he kisses your shoulder, then your neck, and finally, your lips. ‘Hell, I’m not entirely sure I am not already addicted. This is getting out of control, I’m starting to crave you… In a very literal way. And if this goes on much longer, that’s it, I’ll always keep coming back for more… and more… I won’t be able to stop myself. You won’t be able stop me.’, he finishes, looking at you with a mix of intense desire and deep fondness.

‘Your voice…’, he softly grabs your neck.

‘Your taste…’, he rubs his thumb through your lips, and you can’t help but gently suck on it for half a second before he continues.

‘Your scent…’, he leans forward to breathe in against your collar bone.

‘Your body…’, his hands travel from your shoulder blades down your back and stop to slap your ass playfully before resting on your hips.

You drink in his words as if you need them to survive. You have never felt so wanted, so adored, so… loved. You want to tell him you wouldn’t stop him, because the truth is that you’re already gone… You are already hooked on him, you need him. But the growing stinging inside you quickly lets you know you can’t simply say that, so you default to flirting to try distracting him.

‘You’re assuming I would want to stop you. But why would I want to do that? I’m fucking an incubus, I’m having way too much fun to end it.’, you tell him with a smirk but a pinch in your chest for not being able to tell him what he means to you.

‘I’m serious.’, he tells you, half confused, half frustrated.

‘So am I.’, you lie.

‘No, Y/N, I mean it. I feel like I’m going crazy, I don’t know what to do anymore… Or what to think. I never know what you feel, what you want.’, his eyes pleading.

‘You do know. You just want to hear it out loud.’, you say as you get off the armchair, feeling uneasy with the conversation.

‘Then why won’t you say it?’, he questions, his voice getting higher, letting his impatience and irritation show.

‘I can’t.’, you simply tell him, walking away from him and towards the bed.

‘Of course you can! You just don’t want to.’, he shoots, getting up himself and walking behind you.

‘That’s not it. I just… I can’t say it, Chan… Not yet.’, you turn to face him. ‘But you’re not an idiot, you know exactly how I feel about you.’

‘Why don’t you just admit it, then?’, he almost begs, grabbing your arms anxiously.

‘Because I’m scared! Okay?’, you shout nervously, getting out of his hold and taking a step back. ‘Because the thought of telling you how I truly feel only to have you play with my emotions is terrifying. Because you have way too much power over me, and I’ve never…’, you take a short pause, as is you’re trying to fight your own thoughts. ‘I’ve never felt so powerless in my life. So, I keep convincing myself that if I don’t actually say the words, then it isn’t real… As if it isn’t real, then it can’t hurt me.’, you stop again, looking visibly uncomfortable as you reach to touch the crook of your neck in a soothing way. ‘Because I don’t think I could take getting hurt by you, I think I’d feel… undone.’, you pause once more.

You reach down to your chest, then your stomach, then your chest again, your face scrunched up as if you’re in pain. Chan doesn’t know it yet, but you are actually hurting… He assumes you’re just being dramatic because you don’t want to look weak by being vulnerable with him, but the truth is you are in an ever-growing agony. You take a deep breath before continuing.

‘And mostly because you’re a demon of lust and sexual desire. So, what reason do I have to believe that this…’, you gesture with your hand between the two of you. ‘Us…’, a distressed groan escapes your lips at the mention of the word, but you press on. ‘That this is anything more than… argh… than your many… usual… conquests?’, you let out between gasps, holding your neck again, as if you’re having trouble breathing in the midst of a panic attack. But this is something else entirely, it’s not panic… it’s deeper and more intense, it’s despair.

‘And by the way, I know I’m not a demon, but I was still blessed by one… You seem to forget that.’, you add, a bit more composed now. ‘I am a literal embodiment of pride… So, admitting all of this shit I just said?… Yeah, this feels like literal torture to me.’, you genuinely explain, even though he assumes you mean the word “literal” as a figure of speech. You did not. Still, he has so much he wants to say.

‘Y/N… I could never hurt you like that.’, he lets out in almost a whisper, as if he’s disappointed that you would think he could do that to you.

He reaches for your hand and makes you let go of your own neck, which he notices is already marked by how desperately you tugged at the skin. Your hands drop down and because you don’t know what to do with them, you just start fidgeting around with your fingers and staring at them to avoid looking him in the eye. He keeps talking though, this time in a normal volume.

‘It’s just… You’re not the only one that’s scared, you know? This is all new to me. You said it yourself, I’m a lust demon, an incubus, all I’ve ever known is that… it’s desire and passion, fantasy and sex… It’s lust and infatuation. That’s what all of my relationships have ever been, it’s all I’ve ever felt.’, he explains. His hand moves to your jaw and he makes you look up at him. ‘But that changed when I met you.’, he tells you softly but with a serious expression. He gently let’s go of your face before he proceeds talking. ‘I think it’s different this time, you're different. You make me feel different. You’ve never been just another conquest, you’re so much more than that. This…Us…’, he takes one of your hands and presses it against his chest. ‘This is real… It’s very real. And it’s more than just sex, it’s more than infatuation. I actually care about you and that’s new to me.’, he softly kisses the back of your hand before letting go of it and taking a step back.

You miss the contact as he moves away. You miss the heat radiating from his body and you miss his sweet scent around you.

‘But seriously, I just tried to tell you how I feel, I opened myself up and you just teased me about it. So, like, can you really blame me for being hesitant?’, he asks. Your mouth opens slightly as if you’re about to say something, but no sound comes out, so he keeps going instead. Your mind is racing with everything you want to tell him. ‘I’m more afraid of losing you than anything else in this world, and that makes me feel powerless too. I’ve never felt like this and that’s scary. I… I think you like me too, but how can I not be insecure if I’m the only one confessing?’, he protests, growing exasperated.

He’s right, and you know he’s right. You want to speak but the raging sting in your chest warns you against it.

‘You keep refusing to tell me how you feel, so how should I feel confident to admit it myself? I need to know I’m not alone in this, because… I don’t think I can keep doing this if you don’t feel the same. It’s too much.’, he adds, his voice going lower than ever, as if all the torment in the world is dragging it down.

All you want is to respond to his plea, to tell him how much you want him, how much he means to you… But you can’t.

‘Please don’t do this right now.’, it’s your time to plead now, your voice nothing but a faint ghost as you look down at the ground to try to distract yourself from the pain. ‘Chan, please… Please don’t make me say it first.’, you beg, one hand moving to scratch your chest while the other carelessly tugs at the hair behind your ear. Your discomfort is too apparent, but his anger takes the best of him in the moment.

‘Why is it so hard for you to say it?!’, he shouts, frustrated. ‘I know you’re proud, but fuck, it’s not like it’s going to kill you to admit it! It’s hard for me to admit too, you know? But I’m still trying! I just need to hear it. I just need to know you feel the same. If you just admit it, then…’, he says, but you cut him off halfway as your own rage takes over.

‘You think I don't want to?!’, you yell angrily. Your eyes start tearing up as the pain inside grows exponentially stronger. ‘I want to, believe me! But I…’, your sentence gets cuts off by an uncomfortable groan. ‘It fucking hurts.’, you say, crouching slightly over yourself as you grab your stomach, clearly struggling with the pain. ‘I do- argh!… I like you!’, you manage to say before you reach for your own neck and almost try to claw your way inside the flesh, trying to get some kind of relief. It feels like you’re burning from the inside out.

‘Wha- What’s going on?’, he lets out in shock at the scene.

‘It hurts! It hurts!’, you cry out, feeling like your whole body is on fire, like your blood is literally boiling inside you, trying to burn its way out. You’re scratching yourself so hard that blood starts showing up all around your neck and chest and shoulders, making Chan finally understand you were serious when you said it felt like torture. He jumps to grab your hands, trying to stop you from clawing your way into your skin.

‘Stop! Y/N, please… What are you doing?! You’ll hurt yourself! Just stop!’, he begs as he tries to control your movements. After a few moments, you seem to calm down enough for him to loosen his grip around your hands, and you takes the opportunity to rub his cheek with your thumb. He leans into the touch.

‘Chan…’, you whisper, managing to show him a smile between the tears running freely down your face. ‘Chan, I lo- AAH!’, your confession gets cut off by a chilling scream and you collapse in his arms.

‘NO!’, he cries out immediately. ‘Y/N, please!’, he begs. Your eyes open after about half a minute and you try to regain your posture, but he quickly makes you sit down on the bed, worried that you’ll faint again.

‘I’m fine… I’m fine, it’s okay.’, you assure him. He stands in front of you as he holds you close, your legs on each side of him.

‘I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, babygirl! Just stop, okay? You don’t have to say anything.’, he tells you, letting go to look at your face. You just now notice the tears in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I know… I know how you feel. You don’t have to say it.’, he continues. You get up to clean away a single tear on his cheek with a soft kiss and then rest your forehead against his.

‘No… I’m sorry. You should get to hear it. I’m sorry I can’t say it.’, he shakes his head slightly as if he’s disagreeing with you, as if he’s saying you shouldn’t be apologizing, but you just ignore it and continue on. ‘I… I want to. I really do. I just… I can’t do it. It hurts too much.’, you confess.

‘Stop, don’t say anything… Don’t say it!’, he begs, kissing your forehead before resting his on it again. ‘Please, I just can’t stand to see you like this… I can’t see you in pain, I can’t take it.’, he declares.

‘I’m fine now, Chan. I promise.’, you smile and kiss his lips gently, without any urgency or passion, just with pure affection. You then take his hands in yours and kiss them too, before deciding to hook your arms around his neck while he comfortably does the same around your waist. ‘It only hurts when I try to tell you how I feel. It’s one of the downsides of Lucifer’s blessing… I can’t say it before you do, because it quite literally hurts my pride.’, you explain, almost entertained with how ridiculous the situation seems.

‘I… I didn’t realize it caused you that much pain. I thought it felt similar to what I feel when I want to sleep with someone but don’t… Like, it’s uncomfortable, it’s kind of this stingy feeling, but it’s nothing like what you seemed to experience. I mean, I know other demons who have been blessed by Lucifer, and they’ve also said that they feel some kind of discomfort, or even some pain when they’re ashamed or something like that… But I’ve never seen them hurting as much as you just did. I… I had no idea, I’m so sorry.’, he lets out, terrified by the idea that he’s the one that caused your suffering with his persistence.

‘Don’t be, it’s not your fault.’, you assure him, as if you can read his mind. ‘You couldn’t possibly know, I mean, even I didn’t know… I’d never experienced that before.’, you say, trying to make him feel better. It seems to work, as you can feel his muscles relaxing up a bit. ‘But yeah, I suppose it’s a bit worse for me because I’m not a demon. I’m human, and my soul is obviously more sensitive to the strain of the demonic burden than your auras are. But I’ve gotten used to it, I can handle it pretty well. And it’s not usually like this… It’s like you’re saying, the ache is usually more of an annoyance than an actual problem.’, you take a small pause to let him take in the information before proceeding.

‘But I guess the pain is proportional to how vulnerable my pride is in the situation. And… You know… I don’t think I’ve ever been in a position where the risk is quite so high. It’s just… It’s too important, it means too much. If I said it and you didn’t said it back, it would destroy my pride completely. It just comes down to that, I guess.’, you shrug your shoulders slightly, trying to look unbothered.

‘I… I never thought about that.’, he lets out, looking up as if he’s lost in his own thoughts. ‘But now that you’re saying it, I’ve never felt quite as terrible as I did the days after I first met you… Before that night when you came to my room… I felt like I was sick.’, he describes, referring to your first sexual encounter. ‘But now it makes sense… It’s because I wanted you, I wanted to take you right then and there, but couldn’t.’, he takes a small pause before looking down and gracing you with a lighthearted smile. ‘You’re crazy though.’, he adds.

‘Arguably true. I mean, at least partially.’, you joke, smiling back. ‘But why do you say that exactly?’

‘How could you ever think I would not say it back?’, he questions, planting a kiss on your lips, then your cheek and finally, your neck. ‘I told you, I can’t get enough of you, princess … I want you all the time, I hate to be away from you… When you leave to go somewhere, I count the hours until I can see you again, touch you again. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and I feel like a silly, weak, little teenage human girl when I’m around you, it’s embarrassing!’, he lets out happily, as if he’s mocking himself.

‘Oh, shut up.’, you tell him with a dry chuckle, amused, taking it as a joke.

‘I’m serious!’, he protests.

‘Sure, you are.’

‘Y/N, I mean it. I mean every word.’, he tells you, suddenly very serious.

‘You… Hmm, you’re actually serious right now?’, you wonder.

‘I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. And I’ve never been more sure about anyone before.’

‘Chan, stop… You don’t have to say this just because…’, you start, but he cuts you off.

‘No, I want to say it. I’ve had a lot of lovers over the years, but I’ve never been in love, Y/N. I always thought love was just an excuse humans invented to make themselves feel better over the guilt they have about their carnal sins. Hell, I was sure that shit was a myth…’, he takes a small pause as he rests his head against yours once more and closes his eyes, breathing in your scent. He keeps talking with his eyes still shut.

‘But then you came into my life and made me question everything I thought I knew. You made me believe in the myth. You made me feel… new, and excited, and just… happy. Happy like I’ve never felt before.’, he says, rolling his head a little before opening his eyes to look straight into yours, forehead still glued together. The knot in your stomach clenches more and more at every word coming out of his mouth. You just want to tell him he made you believe in love too. He’s the one still speaking though. ‘You’re my drug, and I can never stay away. Nor do I want to.’, he says.

‘Then don't…’, you let out in a whisper without even realizing you just spoke aloud. He moves his head back to take you all in and gives you the biggest, brightest smile you have ever seen on him, looking so warm, so beautiful, so… perfect.

‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but… Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N…’, you start laughing at the use of all the names, but deep down it’s just a nervous laugh.

‘Oh no, please don’t call me that ever again.’, you joke, trying to hide your excitement. He moves one hand from your hip to cup your face and rub your cheek before continuing. Your heart beats so fast that it feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest.

‘Y/N… I love you. I am desperately in love with you.’, he lets out just before pressing his soft, plump lips against yours. You kiss him back as if your life depended on it, your pain finally almost completely gone as a wave of relief crashes down on your whole being. ‘And I’m not even ashamed to shout it out from the rooftops for everyone to hear!’, he teases as your mouths break away, the happiest silly smile plastered on his face. You let out a snorted chuckle at the comment before holding him closer, until your noses are touching. You look up at him fervently.

‘Well, if I’m your drug, then you’re my medicine. I feel like I’m constantly burning from the inside and the only thing that stops the flames from taking over is… well, you. I only feel whole when I’m with you. You, Chan, as much as it hurts my pride to say it…’

‘Oh no, stop. Are you okay?’, he cuts you off, clearly worried that you might be in pain again, despite you showing no signs of it. You laugh fondly at his reaction as you cups his cheek.

‘I’m okay, don’t worry. You already said it, so it’s fine. It’s just a tiny little sting now, it doesn’t hurt, I promise… Because I know how you feel now.’, you explain.

‘Are you sure?’, he insists.

‘I’m sure!’, you reassure him. ‘You wanted to hear it so badly before and now you won’t let me say it?’, you tease him.

‘I’m sorry, I was just worried about you.’, he confesses, planting a quick kiss on your neck, just over one of the marks you gave yourself earlier.

‘Okay, now that you know I’m fine, will you just shut up and let me speak?’, you ask, poking fun at him. He nods eagerly with a shy smile. ‘Thank you. As I was saying, before you so rudely interrupted me… You, Chan, are the cure to my affliction. And I never thought I’d say this, but… I love you too.’, you finally admit with a warm smile.

It feels like a terrible weight that was crushing you down has lifted from your chest. You love him, and you can finally say it. And he loves you. Nothing has ever felt quite so in place. And now it’s his turn to kiss you passionately and ardently and yet, still tenderly. He’s the happiest he’s ever been hearing the words coming out of your mouth.

‘I’m pretty sure a part of me has always loved you, ever since we first met… I just couldn’t stop thinking about you.’, you say when the instant passes. ‘At first, I thought it was just sexual attraction, you know? But the more I was with you, the more I realized it was more than that.’, you tell him. A moan of pure bliss escapes him as he closes his eyes, enjoying the moment.

‘Hmm, say it again…’, he shamelessly begs. ‘I want to remember the way the words sound in your voice, it feels like music, it’s so beautiful.’, he adds without ever opening his eyes. You smile at the sight.

‘I really do.’, you say, rubbing your nose on his to make him open his eyes and look at you. ‘I love you, Chan.’, you let out on more time and he drinks it in.

‘I…’, you kiss his left cheek.

‘Love…’, you kiss his right cheek.

‘You…’, you softly kiss his lips. He’s still in his own world, taking in every small detail of what you’re saying.

‘I love you so much, baby.’, he lets out and kisses your neck, just where he knows you like it. ‘You’re never getting rid of me now, and I’m not even sorry.’, he teases as he comes back.

‘You won’t hear me complaining about that.’, you smirk, taking his hand and leading him to switch places with you before making him sit down on the bed with you standing between his legs. You take off your top, revealing the bra underneath and he kisses the skin between your breasts, and then your stomach. But then a stray thought pops up on his mind and he suddenly feels the urge to ask something.

‘Wait… so, are you like… my girlfriend, now?’, he lets out with an excited smile. You can’t help but laugh at his expression, thinking he looks like a kid waiting to receive a present on Christmas. ‘Are you?’, he repeats, sounding a little too eager.

‘No.’, with just one word, his smile quickly turns into a pout. It’s like taking candy from a baby.

‘Why not?’

‘Because I hate that word.’, you simply state, moving your legs around to sit on his lap, facing him while resting your own knees on the mattress with your feet under your thighs.

‘I don’t.’, he says with a playful smirk. ‘I never had a girlfriend, I’d like to see what all the fuss is about.’, he adds before licking the skin from your collarbone up to your ear. You close your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his tongue on your body. ‘See? You like me way too much not to be my girlfriend. Come on, just say “yes”…’, he whispers before naughtily biting your ear, teasing you.

‘Do you really care about that?’, you ask genuinely, making him look up at you. He shrugs his shoulders slightly, trying to look not too concerned.

‘I mean, I didn’t think I would, but now that you said “no”, I have to admit, it kind of sucks. I don’t know, it’s not like I’m expecting us to just magically stop fucking other people, I’m just saying… It’d be nice to let them know that, even if they are fucking you, at the end it doesn’t matter, because you’re still mine, and only mine.’, he confesses, his possessiveness coming through in his words. A satisfied smirk comes up to your face as you can tell by his speech and general demeanor that he’s becoming more sexually charged. You take the opportunity to taunt him.

‘So, you just want to claim me… Is that it? Because you don’t need to call me your “girlfriend” to do that, you know? Your dick has done that for you a long time ago, with a little help from your lips, and tongue, and hands too.’, you tease. He seems to not find it too funny though, so you try to be sweeter with your next words. You move a bit, grinding against his evident bulge, and getting closer to him to whisper to his ear. ‘Don’t you see? No matter who I fuck, I always end up coming back to you.’, you say before kissing his cheek softly. ‘You’ve already marked me, already claimed me.’, you add, now kissing his lips with a bit more passion and urgency. You, too, are getting excited.

‘Okay, that’s good and all, but…’, he starts before taking a long pause.

‘But what?’

‘Well, I want to claim your… urgh, I can’t believe I’m saying this, and I will deny it if you ever tell anyone! But… Oh, I hate myself… I want to claim your heart, not just your pussy.’, he lets out shyly. You can’t help yourself and you start laughing vigorously at his comment, so much so that you drop to the side, laying on the bed next to him, clutching your stomach. He turns to you, pouting.

‘Hey! Stop mocking me!’, he demands dramatically as he starts tickling you as revenge. You can barely breathe over his vicious attack.

‘Okay! Okay! I’m sorry! Stop! Please, stop!’, you let out between laughs, finally giving in.

‘Yeah, that’s what I thought, princess.’, he says, smugly, as you both sit back up on the bed.

‘Alright, so how about this: instead of “girlfriend”, you could just call me “your girl”…? What do you think?’

‘Oh, please!... Look at your face, you love it!’, you mock him, amused.

‘Wow, I really love my girl.’, he tries it out with a big smile.

‘Yeah, I guess that works.’, he tries to look unbothered.

‘Fine! You can call me whatever you want, just stop being a baby about it.’, you give up.

‘I like “girlfriend” too.’, he argues.

‘Hey, you punks better watch your mouth, that’s my girlfriend you’re talking about!’, he lets out as an example. You roll your eyes at him overdramatically.

‘Oh, shut up, you love it too!’, he mocks you right back, grabbing your by the waist and bringing you close to him to kiss your neck playfully. You grab his hair, enjoying the moment. Your excitement soon becomes your main focus as you tug at it to make him look at you.

‘Okay, great. So, now that you’re done… (impersonating him) “claiming my heart”…’, you mock him, landing a slap on your butt as punishment, which you enjoy, as does he, feeling it up nicely afterwards. ‘Can we end all this emotional mush for now, and can you please come and claim my pussy?’, you tease, pulling yourself up to sit with your clothed core just over his ever-growing bulge and moving slightly to give him some satisfaction. The friction causes him to let out a moan and you take the opportunity to sensually bite his lower lip.

‘Hmm, you’re waking up the beast.’, he warns, making you smirk.

‘I’m counting on it.’, you respond, moving your hips back and forth as you pull his shirt off.

You take a second to take in the view. He’s so beautiful with his perfect body… his hands, his arms, his pecks, his abs, all his muscles tensing up with gratification as you ride him. His head tilts back as he enjoys the release your movement grants him, lewd sounds escaping him. You drink them all in as you carefully examine his stunning features, eyes closed and mouth agape with pleasure.

‘Just say it… Say it one more time.’, he lets out, finally opening his eyes to look fondly at you as you move steadily. His voice sounds low and intimidating, but you still welcome it. There is no pleading or begging in it… it’s not a request, it’s a clear and simple command.

‘Don't stop.’, he says, making you realize you had inadvertently slowed down the pace as you got lost drinking him in. ‘Just say it.’, he repeats as he takes off your bra and watches your boobs bouncing with the movement.

‘I love you, babe.’, you say in a seductive tone as you start moving faster, feeling how close he is.

‘Say my name.’, he orders before firmly planting his mouth on one of your nipples and sucking slightly, causing you to moan now.

‘Oh, Chan…’, another indecent sound comes out of your mouth as he licks your other nipple before sucking it. ‘Kiss me.’, you ask him as he pauses to take in a deep breath when you stop your hips. He obliges, giving you a wet and messy long kiss filled with desire and urgency. ‘Chan, I love you.’, you let out in almost a whisper as the two of you break apart, resting your forehead against his. ‘And I want you… I want you so badly right now, I need you inside me.’, you blatantly plead. He stares at you adoringly, as if he’s admiring a piece of fine art.

‘I love you, babygirl. And I can’t believe you’re mine. You’re so beautiful, so perfect, and you’re all mine.’, he lets out, his possessiveness coming out in his words, his tone, his demeanor. All of it just makes you more excited though, so you play into it.

‘You better believe it because I am. I’m yours, Chan, I’m all yours. You can do whatever you want with me, baby.’

‘I want to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week, princess.’, he lets out seriously, his eyes glowing with a spark of pure lust.

‘Do it! Tie me up and fuck me like there’s no tomorrow.’, you let out a little too eagerly.

He roughly pushes you onto the bed, your back resting on the mattress as he gets on top of you, his instinct taking over, guided by the flames of desire. In a matter of seconds, he has already gotten you out of your shoes, jeans and underwear, and has stripped down himself to be completely naked. You both enjoy looking at each other for a moment before resuming the activity.

‘No one will ever touch you as delightfully as I do…’, he says as his hand trails from your thigh to your pussy, slightly rubbing over your clit before he moves on to your stomach, your breasts, chest, and finally, your neck, where he gently chokes you for a moment, sending a jolt of electricity down your body.

'No one will ever…’, he continues as he pushes his dick inside you without much care as it easily slipped in with how wet you already were. ‘…fill you up as wonderfully as I do…’, he finishes as he bottoms out with your walls clenching against his member, pressing on the large vein that runs under it, with moans coming out of both of your mouths when you’re not busy taking in each other’s lips.

‘No one… will ever… pleasure… you… as perfectly… as I do.’, he lets out between hard thrusts that make your orgasm dangerously close as he hits your g-spot just right. ‘Hmm, I’m so close, babygirl… Cum with me, cum with me.’, he half begs, half orders.

‘Oh, Chan… Chan!’, you shout, and in a matter of seconds you’re both riding your high together.

‘I’m gonna fucking ruin you for everyone else in this world.’, he says as he keeps pounding into your now oversensitive core just for some extra pleasure. You grab the back of his neck, making him look straight into your eyes. You stare at each other lovingly for a second when he stops moving before you speak, his dick still inside you.

‘You already have.’, you simply say, genuinely, before planting an adoring kiss on his already abused lips. He smiles into the kiss, feeling happy and fulfilled. ‘I always come back to you, babe. I will always come back to you… Because we belong together. No matter how many people we sleep with, it will always be the two of us in the end.’, you tell him. His eyes shine bright listening to your words. You reach down to cup his face with your hand and he kisses the palm softly. ‘Because you’re the only one who really knows me... All of me. Because you're perfect, Chan… You're perfect for me.’, you finish, leaving him feeling as if his heart is about to blow up, in the best possible way.

[obae-me]

Hi again! If it's not too much trouble, can I request the brothers reacting to an MC who usually bottles up their anger (they have a LOT of patience) until one day they just explode? You are an amazing person, and thank you for everything! I hope you aren't pushing yourself too hard!!

Hi, welcome everyone to another episode of Mara Doesn’t Know When To Stop, this time featuring this lovely request! I had a small idea, which then turned into five whole pages for Lucifer alone, so, I will also be doing this request into parts, I really hope you don’t mind! I get a bit carried away sometimes...I admit it... Anyway, Lucifer’s part is first! I hope you like it! 💜

Warning: Angst, arguing, cussing, It does lead to a happy end though, it’s a bit cheesy but sometimes we love it

We All Get Angry Sometimes

Word Count: 2707

He was fully aware of MC bottling up their true emotions. Being well acquainted with angels, he knew, despite all their holy patience, that even they had their limits. He will admit, he was impressed and proud with how far they had taken it, being human after all. Their control was practically as good as his own. No matter what his brothers did, what they said, how much they pushed them, for weeks MC just smiled and swallowed it. He was pleased. Until they could no longer retain their anger, and turned it all on him.

It had been at dinner, nothing unlike their meals every day, except recently Lucifer’s nerves had been on edge. It had been a few days since he had been blessed with adequate sleep, and his brothers were more bothersome than usual. Little did he know, MC’s mental state was about the same, close to the breaking point. An unhappy MC meant unhappy brothers, which meant it would all lead back up the ladder to Lucifer. There was only so far MC could be shoved around, only so long they could stay calm, and Lucifer had been the last straw. No one can really remember how it started, it hadn’t been important, simply some passing comment from one of the brothers discussing recent school projects. MC had scoffed, explaining their thoughts on how ridiculous the rules of said assignments were. Then it all went downhill from there.

“I’m not sure it’s your place to be making claims like that based on what your grades have been looking like recently,” Lucifer quipped. The rest of the siblings prepared to stand up for the human, knowing that MC was typically passive in nature.

Only, that same human beat them to the punch. “So, you’re saying that because I don’t meet your lofty standards, I’m not entitled to my opinions?” MC set down their fork, sending chills down the other demon’s spines as the room went silent.

Lucifer narrowed his gaze, already annoyed with their tone. “I’m merely explaining that maybe your statement would have more merit if you worked a little more at your studies instead of slacking off. And for the record, no, you haven’t been reaching my standards. I honestly expected more from you.” Every member of the household felt that line deep in their bones.

MC’s jaw clenched, the fire building up in their chest overwhelmed them to the point where if they shoved it down any longer, they felt like they would explode under the pressure. “You expected more from me? What more could you possibly want?! You’ve taken my home, my family, my friends, my culture, my time! You’ve constantly belittled me, ordered me around, expected nothing but perfection from me, and you still want more?! What have you possibly done to deserve more of me?!”

He was stunned at first, yes, but it didn’t last long. The shock factor was quickly replaced with a wave of fervent irritation. There’s no surprise he was already in demon form, doing his best to intimidate MC into submission. His eyes were glowing that deep red of his, looking down at the human as he got to his feet. His siblings slowly raised up from their seats as well, at the ready to intervene at any second. This whole event had them astonished to their core. Mammon and Levi had their jaws open. Asmo had his hand covering his mouth. Satan would have appeared proud of MC if not for the wary frown. Beel was instantly engaged in protection mode, already in a stance to grab onto Lucifer if he needed to. The eldest was barely able to control himself. Somehow MC had gotten deep under his skin, his body prickling with anger. “What have I--I’ve brought you into my home, ensured your protection, done nothing but make sure your experience down here is sufficient for your fragile little life! Do Not speak to me that way. Know your place.”

MC was physically vibrating from rage and frustration, their mind clouded with fury. Logic was far out the window now, they simply were saying whatever came to mind. Profanities were no longer held back. “I’m sick of your pompous holier-than-thou shit! I’m sick of working my ass off for you and not being good enough! You have a serious fucking lack of respect for everyone around you!”

The air was thick with his aura, his wings fully extended from his body. “Not another wor-”

“Fuck you!”

In a quick blur of motion, everyone worked together in tandem. As Lucifer lunged forward, his brothers held him back. Mammon scooped MC up in his arms and raced to the safety of their room before MC could get hurt, although deep in his heart he hoped Lucifer wouldn’t resort to violence. Lucifer growled inhumanly, flinging his brothers off of him in a single swift movement, ready to pursue the person that dared attempt to say such things to his face.

“How pathetic for you to have gotten so riled up over a few words from a human,” Satan shouted at him as he got up from his spot on the floor. Swallowing the small lump in his throat, he hoped this would prove a decent distraction as well as a way to snap his brother back under control.

Lucifer loomed over him. Satan seemed hardly disturbed. “Watch yourself.” But Satan’s words proved efficient, Lucifer’s Pride wounded as he realized how quickly he allowed MC’s words to get to him, how quickly he had lost control. All of his sibling’s eyes were on him, observing how he was acting. His head was pounding, but instead of heading up to MC’s room, he swiftly retired to his private study where he locked the entrance behind him. He paced around the area for a while, magically turning on some soothing music as his wings twitched in vexation.

He had been completely unprepared for MC’s retaliation, for their venom towards him, but perhaps he knew there was only so much a living being could take before they snapped. Had he been pushing them too hard? Expecting too much of them? Mistreating them? Had he gone too far? What if this spat ended up becoming a problem for the program? What if MC relayed this to Diavolo? His image, his reputation, they would be tarnished. Did MC think less of him now? Did he really care what they thought of him? He was better than this. He expected more from himself. He lowered his head as he sat heavily down into the chair behind his desk. He sunk down low, proper posture be damned. As he took a deep breath in, he realized he hadn’t been breathing for a while, lungs aching. He hadn’t meant to rub MC the wrong way. He simply strived to lead them towards the potential he knew they had. All he wanted was for them to feel proud of their accomplishments, to show the world what he knew they were capable of. But perhaps, it was unfair for the same standards he kept for himself to apply to MC as well. He pinched the bridge of his nose as that deep breath turned into a heavy sigh. He had failed in nurturing the success they’d already accomplished. He’d made them feel like they weren’t good enough, and now look at what he had done, in front of his family no less. Humiliating.

Meanwhile, Mammon was in the process of rubbing MC’s back as they lay on their bed, screaming into their pillow as angry tears fell from their eyes. They hadn’t meant to snap at Lucifer, it all...was just so much. They finally had cracked from the pressure. Everyone’s expectations had gotten the best of them. Be a human representative. Don’t let anyone down. Don’t show weakness. They weren’t purposefully slacking off from their studies, they just were burnt out, almost completely. Lucifer demanding even more from them...was the last thing they needed to hear today. Their own words made them feel sick to their stomach. Being angry wasn’t like them, it never sat well, which is why they always attempted to bury it in the first place. Mammon continued to tell them to breathe and calm down, doing his best not to freak out himself. He’d never seen his human act like this before. After some time, they both heard a polite knock on the door. As MC tensed, Mammon got up to answer it on their behalf. Lucifer was waiting, back in his casual clothes as his arms were settled folded across his chest, foot tapping impatiently against the floor.

“You’ve got a lotta nerve coming back here so soon,” Mammon scowled. “I won’t let anything happen to them, ya hear?”

“Nonsense, Mammon, I have no intention of harming them, I just want to talk. Calmly.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t think they’re in the mood for talkin’.” Mammon did his best to let his body block the entrance to the room, his shoulders nearly touching both sides of the door frame as he made his stature appear bigger. Lucifer peered over his younger brother’s figure, spotting MC sitting with their legs crossed on top of the bed, mostly calmed down as well, refusing to look at him. He noted the tear stains on their cheeks, and he resorted to having to clench his own teeth to stop the bubbling guilt rising up in his chest. He would make this right, if he couldn’t do this, how could he possibly call himself the wise and mature older brother?

“It’s...okay, Mammon,” MC assured him. The demon of greed scoffed, stating much too loudly that he would be right outside the door. He threatened his older brother not to even think about laying a single finger on them, unafraid of any punishment when it came to protecting MC. Lucifer waved him away with a single hand, too exhausted to deal with him further. As the door shut, he strode over to MC’s bed, chin high but spirits low. He had no intention of apologizing first, but if he could just persuade MC to start, he might be able to swallow enough pride to follow.

“Have we calmed down now?” He asked, MC simply nodding in response. “Very well.” He paused for a moment, letting an uncomfortable silence settle over the room. He did have many things he wanted to say, things he wanted to rectify, but for the life of him, he couldn’t bring himself to say them. Not yet. “Did you have anything you wanted to say to me?”

He observed them fight back their irritation before slumping their shoulders as they gave in. “I’m sorry, Lucifer.”

“And?” His voice sounded like a parent scolding a child, causing MC to nearly flinch in humiliation.

They bit their lip. “And the things I said to you were uncalled for. I know how much you do for all of us...for me.” They sat up a bit straighter as they stammered over the thoughts they wanted to say, to explain their feelings. They were afraid to be honest and vulnerable, much like he was, but they had the courage and humility to be open. It was a trait he secretly admired. “I just...I’m finding it difficult to--to find the--the energy and motivation to make everyone happy. And...and it hurt when…” They looked down, swallowing their emotions once more as they halted their watery eyes from crying again.

Lucifer let his body unwind ever so slightly. It would be rude of him now to not follow their example. “I...regret my words and my actions. I allowed my emotions to get the best of me, it won’t happen again.” He let the conversation fall once more as he took the time to straighten his coat around his shoulders and his gloves tighter over his fingers. “It was not my intention to invalidate your efforts. You’ve already accomplished more than I originally thought you were capable of, and it was foolish on my part to expect more from a simple human.” His rather backhanded compliment forced MC to rest their face in their hands in shame. The nerves in Lucifer’s spine shot a jolt up his back as he realized how terribly this was going. His temples were pounding, and he finally put his pride aside for the sake of reconciliation. He couldn’t stand to be the cause of their distress. MC stiffened as he sat himself beside them on their bed. A gentle hesitant hand hovered above their body before it settled between their shoulder blades. He glanced at the door where he knew Mammon was behind, probably listening in, and so he spoke softer. “I’m...sorry.” He had to ignore how harshly the words hurt him, but something about it was freeing. “I seem to have pushed you too far. I am thankful and truthfully astonished of what you’ve done during your time here. Not only did I cross a line today but I was blind to the fact that you’ve been overtaxing yourself. I know how hard it is to juggle my siblings and my work.”

He allowed his hand to drift up and down their back in a soothing rhythm, relaxing some himself as their muscles eased at his touch. MC finally raised their head from the confines of their palms and looked him in the eyes. “Do you think I’m a disappointment? A burden?” He found himself stunned for the second time today, and for a while he wondered when it was that he could be so easily swayed by the words and emotions of this human. Here he was, not only apologizing, but expending every effort he had in consoling them. He wanted MC to be happy again, because somehow it seemed to make his days a little brighter, his mood a little softer. Perhaps...he cared more for them than he realized. Their shouts had wounded him deeply at dinner, but somehow these new words hurt him more. Their forlorn face spurred an unfamiliar pain in his chest. 

“I’m sure it will be hard to convince you after the unforgivable things I said to you today, but it could not be further from the truth. I suppose the fact that you question yourself is one of my biggest failures. Clearly, we have not been communicating properly. For that I am..s...sor…” The words got caught in his throat. Apologizing once had been difficult enough, a second time seemed impossible. Out of the blue, he felt a tight set of arms wrap around his torso. He held his arms up in the air, his body turning rigid as his little hairs stood up on end. MC had pulled him into a tight hug, burying their face in his side. He felt their nose nestle against his ribs. As soon as he found his breath, his arms slowly lowered, settling around the smaller human. His body felt warm. Allowing himself a small smile, he cleared his throat. “I would prefer a situation like this to never happen again, do you understand?” MC detached from his sides, sitting back up as they nodded silently. “So, for the future, instead of quarreling with me, I expect you to come straight to me to discuss any woes or issues you may have. Fair enough?”

“Yes, Lucifer.”

He gingerly brushed his fingers against MC’s cheeks. “But it would be remiss of me to ignore the faults of my own. Since our meal was interrupted, what do you say to me taking you out to dinner, as my way of making amends?”

MC felt themselves blush a bit. “Sure-”

The door burst open, Mammon leading the charge as the rest of the siblings spilled into the doorway. They’d all been eavesdropping. Mammon came over and tugged MC further away from Lucifer. “Oi, what did I say about touching MC?!”

“And our dinner was interrupted too, I think we deserve something!” Asmo whined.

A loud grumble echoed from Beel’s gut. “I’m starving…”

Lucifer’s eyelid twitched a bit, and he gave MC one last apologetic look before he sighed. “Fine...we’re all going to dinner then.”

[drwcn]

《 Without Envy 》 storyboard 10 - concubine/sleeper agent!wwx & prince!lwj

Other snippets and storyboards can be found on [Master List]

Exactly 851 days - 2 years, 4 months and 11 days - after Wei Wuxian arrived at Gusu and began his mission as a sleeper agent, he was activated.

That chilly morning, he walked into the pastry shop - a front maintained by a decade-long Wen spy - a walk he'd done hundred of times on hundreds of mornings since he arrived. He breezed past the packaging counter, skipped through the faded cotton drapes, and rounded behind the back staircase to the room where Xue Yang always waited for him. Only this time, it was not just his candy-obsessed, murder-happy shidi, but a face he hadn't seen in many, many months. "...Shifu?" Wen Zhuliu's visit meant the end of his carefree days. It's time. That night, Wei Wuxian did not look at either Lan Wangji or Jiang Yanli when he bid "dianxia" and "Jiang-zhuzi" good night. He pretended to retire to bed early, after washing himself of his servant's exterior and donning his robes of night-black. He laid in the dark, waiting for time to pass, and reminded himself of his true purpose. He was never meant to care about these people; love these people. Jiang Yanli was not his doting foster sister; Lan Wangji was not his beloved wangye. I am Wei Wuxian of the great Qishan Wen. Nevernight is my home. I am a spy. Gusu is my enemy. Wei Wuxian kept his eyes closed, his breathing even, and his heartbeat slow. In the lonely quiet, he waited, and waited, and waited. Until the candlelight around the princely manor dimmed to nothing, until the night grew still and the moon shone bright and high in the dark, dark sky. Reaching under the floorboard beneath his bed, Wei Wuxian retrieved his life-long companion from its hiding place and released it from its sheath. "Hello, old friend." He whispered, stroking the blade edge. Suibian's steel glistened with cold malevolence in the stark, pale moonlight.

It would be another year before WWX's identity is discovered. During that time, he lived a double life. In the day, he was Lan Wangji's precious Wei Ying, and at night, he was the blade in Wen Ruohan's hand, stealing, killing and destroying on command. His assignments were not always murder; sometimes it required him to break into secure facilities and obtain copies of certain documents. He was never alone on these jobs; there was always someone convalescing with him from within. Slowly, he began to realize just how deep Wen Ruohan's spy network had infiltrated Gusu's foundation. In a way, it excited him, to know that the posturing and pretending would soon be over, that in the near future a quick war would sweep across the land and unite the two nations. In another way, it frightened him to the bones.

Wei Wuxian killed 37 individuals within the span of a year, 37 men and women of different ranks, status and stations. He did not always know why these people needed to die; in fact, he often didn't and preferred it that way. If he didn't know the motive, then he couldn't argue against the reason, and thus could go on believing that what Wen Ruohan did was ultimately for the betterment of everyone. The men of Gusu were weak - Wei Wuxian was always told - they were not fit to rule. The people of Gusu would be better served under a united empire. He repeated this statement to himself before every job, but over time, the mantra on his tongue began to lose its flavour.

In the meantime however, Lan Wangji and Jiang Yanli quickly formed a strong plan on how they wanted to live out the rest of their lives. Lan Wangji never quite enjoyed laying with women, but Jiang Yanli had just enough wickedness behind her demure exterior that things were... well, interesting. In any case, it was not long before she came to him all smiles and whispered the good news over luncheon .

"Truly?" Lan Wangji set down his chopsticks. "Hm uhm." Jiang Yanli dapped her mouth delicately. "Now, perhaps it's a good time to discuss how dianxia should go about winning A-Xian's affection. He's under the impression you've cast him aside on taishi's orders and has been giving him the cold shoulder." "I wasn't." Lan Wangji defended himself, distressed and slightly offended. "It's just, huangshu's been watching me like a hawk. I was afraid any further attempt to be closer to him would give my uncle reason to remove him from my household entirely." Jiang Yanli was sympathetic. "The summer hunt is in two week's time, and afterwards, since bixia always likes to finish the night on the river with fireworks, perhaps...." She let the sentence dangle, a knowing smile playing at her lips. Lan Wangji felt hope.

Unfortunately, a little hiccup happened before the hunt could take place. Jin Ziyan falsely believed that Wei Wuxian had fallen out of favour with Lan Wangji and was itching to show him his place. Poor Mo Xuanyu was caught in the middle. Jin Ziyan knew Wei Wuxian was an audacious one, but not so stupid that he could be easily goaded into committing a grave offence. Thus, Jin Ziyan planned to cause an incident in the garden whereby poor Mo Xuanyu would unwittingly "offend" him, and he would publicly announce a punishment that was harsher than necessary. He made sure that Jiang Yanli and Wei Wuxian were near by, as they usually took a mid-afternoon stroll after lunch. True to his predictions, Wei Wuxian could not stop himself for interfering on Mo Xuanyu's behalf. Then in their altercation, Jin Ziyan would fall into the pond, making it seem as though Wei Wuxian was the one who shoved him out of anger. Oh but a lowly servant shoving Hanguang-wang's deputy consort into the pond??! He was as good as dead. What's more, everything happened on the same afternoon that Lan Qiren was scheduled to visit Lan Wangji to discuss matters of court. If it was only Lan Wangji, Jin Ziyan knew Wei Wuxian would suffer little consequence, but taishi tolerated no insubordination or churlish behaviour of any kind.

Lan Qiren was incensed, livid, but he was not hasty to deal the punishment. Instead he turned to his nephew and asked, whilst fully knowing the answer, "Wangji, your household follows the regulations that govern all princely manors, does it not?" "It does, huangshu." "Then tell me what is the punishment reserved for a servant for daring to lay hands on a deputy consort and to cause physical harm to said consort?" "It....I - huangshu -" "What is the rule?" Lan Wangji knew very well that the punishment was death for any servant, maid or eunuch who dared to harm any member of the harem. But Wei Ying, his Wei Ying... "Wei Ying is very precious to Yanli and to Yunmeng-hou. As well..." Lan Wangji hesitated. "Yanli is with child again. It is still very early so we thought it best not to announce it lest we have a repeat of last time. It would not do to upset her at this time." Lan Qiren was extremely dissatisfied with his answer, but conceded for Jiang Yanli's sake. "I'm glad, Wangji, that you've found your way back to your proper companions. This Wei Wuxian clearly has been spoiled to the point of impropriety. His actions today are utterly unacceptable and cannot be allowed to go unpunished or else others would surely follow his example. Guards!" "Detain Wei Wuxian. Have him strung up on a post in the servants' courtyard and give him fifty lashes. No food nor drink. Sun or rain, he is not to be let down until dusk tomorrow." "Huangshu!" Lan Wangji's head buzzed, as though someone had struck him squarely in the temple. His chest felt tight, and his heart ached where it rebelled inside him. "Please -" "He has his life. That is mercy enough."

Wei Wuxian was stripped down to his trousers only and tied up to a post, his hands bound together above him and his bare feet never finding purchase on the ground no matter how he struggled. This fucking suck ass. Jin Ziyan you're a dead man. When all fifty lashes were dealt, even the guards were sweating through their robes. They left him dangling there in the blistering summer heat. A young maid dared to try and sneak him some water but was thwarted by an older momo. "What do you think you're doing, lassie? Did you not hear taishi, no food or drink until dusk tomorrow. Do you want lashes too? Go on! Go!" It rained hard all through the night, only easing up at dawn, but the aftermath of the storm left the air muggy and humid. Combined with the heat, it felt as though he was being steamed alive like a wheat bun. At some point during the second day, Wei Wuxian finally lost consciousness. He was not aware when Lan Wangji barged into the courtyard against Lan Qiren's explicit orders and cut him free.

Really tho, i just want this scene to happen (╹ڡ╹ ) "I'm sorry." Wei Wuxian blinked at Lan Wangji's hunched figure sitting at his bedside. "Whatever for? You saved me, dianxia." Lan Wangji, "But it was my attention that put you in such a position in the first place. Huangshu was looking for a reason to punish you since that day he saw us in my study." Wei Wuxian, "dianxia..." "I find you... lovely, Wei Ying," confessed Lan Wangji with a heavy sigh. His ears burned red not only with the embarrassment of a youth in love but with shame. "I wish for your company, even when you have no desire to be part of my harem. Now I know my mistake. I should have respected the boundaries. I should've known my attention on you would incite jealousy from the others, and as a servant, you have no means of protecting yourself. This is entirely my fault." Wei Wuxian's heart fluttered despite himself. He quickly shook his head. "No dianxia, please don't blame yourself -" Lan Wangji, "perhaps I should send you back to Jiang-fu; I'm sure Jiang-xiao-gongzi would be delighted to have your company back. You would be safe there." Jiang Wanyin had come to visit his sister the very next day after Wei Wuxian was sentenced to whipping. He was one of the most accomplishment young men of his generation, anticipated to be a great general. Nie Mingjue had thought highly of him and had expected great things from this youth. Though perhaps what the late feng-jun found truly commendable was Jiang Wanyin's complete lack of pretense and his short-fuse temper. That is to say, he did not hesitate to get in Lan Wangji's face. His sister would have chastised him, had she not been so preoccupied by her tears. Wei Wuxian, "Jiang...Jiang Cheng was here?" "He was, and he was very upset about your condition. He left many fine medicine and ointments for you." Lan Wangji sighed again. "I shall speak with Yanli. If she is amenable, then I shall make arrangements for you to go back to Jiang-fu. You would not have to put up with me any longer." Lan Wangji stood up. Wei Wuxian grasped his sleeve immediately. In that moment, he could not tell if his panic was derived from his worry that he would not be able to complete his assignment if Lan Wangji were to send him away or if he simply did not wish to part with the prince. "Dianxia - I - I don't want to leave. I - it's true I had once rejected you, but...would you think less of me if I said your attention … hasn't been unwanted for a while, that I have come to enjoy them." At Lan Wangji's widened eyes, Wei Wuxian continued quickly. "You need not give me anything, no elevation, no rank. I don't care about any of that. I am a man, I have no ability to give you children. Nor do I have any family who would benefit from your continued favour of me. I am an orphan, dianxia, I have no place to go. I just....don't send me away. Please let me stay! I'm not afraid of Jin Ziyan, or taishi, or anything!" Lan Wangji sat back down. His hand trembled when he laid it on top of Wei Wuxian's. "Wei Ying...?" Wei Wuxian smiled, still radiant despite his pale complexion. "Dianxia -" "Lan Zhan. No more dianxia, I only want to hear you call me by my name." Wei Wuxian flushed pink. The blush was real, as was the pleased little smile he tried to hide. "Lan Zhan, Wei Ying is yours, if you still want him." The worst part of that was that he meant it. Just the mere thought of being held by Lan Wangji, of being kissed by him, of... so many other wonderful possibilities, made Wei Wuxian want to hide his flaming face into his pillow. Lan Wangji smiled. Quietly, he lifted Wei Wuxian's hand and pressed a kiss to the inner side of his wrist. "Rest, I will be right here." Wei Wuxian felt his treacherous little heart soar: oh no … oh no no no no ….. (Xue Yang's voice in narration: and it was in this moment, that Wei Wuxian knew, he fucked up.) The cruellest thing Wei Wuxian ever did was give Lan Wangji hope knowing that one day he would take it all away.

[mermaidxatxheart]

Better Together Chapter 3

Here's chapter three. I'll keep this short. Let me know what you think. If you like this chapter and want to be added to my tag list, please let me know. Reblogs are most welcome, it lets others view my work. Comments are even better, it lets me know I'm doing a good job-we all need validation once in a while.

Word Count: 3155

Warnings: Violence, language, Poe being cute.

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

The cliffs are further than you originally thought. Your legs are cramping, throbbing. Poe lets you rest as long as he can but it’s still crucial to reach the elusive cliffs before dark.

He helps you over massive logs, crooked roots, down sharp hills. His hands are firm on your waist as he lifts you over fallen branches, they’re steady in yours as he helps you clamber over the gnarled roots.

He never once complains, never once tells you to get over it, never once makes you feel weak or useless. Every once in a while, he’ll glance over his shoulder at you, his pretty eyes lingering on your face for a second before smiling. You can feel his eyes on you as you stoop to gather the vegetation samples. He’s never intrusive, only giving his help when you request it.

“I’ve thought of another reason the bugs are so big.” You huff, hauling yourself over another massive branch.

“Tell me.” He wipes his forehead.

“The trees are so big, they’re pumping so much O2 into the air that the bugs can get big enough to take as much as they need in.”

“Come again?”

“Bugs have big tubes that intake oxygen through their skin to their organs, bypassing the need for lungs. In the places we’ve populated, the oxygen level is way down compared to this place. They’d die before the air ever gets to their organs.”

“How do you fit so much in that brain of yours?” He chuckles and you roll your eyes, clinging to his shoulders as he lifts you over another root.

Finally-finally, the base of the cliffs come into view and you let out a sigh of relief. The light is already getting dimmer, so you’re just barely in time. Then you take a second to look up at the sheer wall of rocks in front of you. It shoots straight up, higher than you can even see at this range. The edge disappears into the clouds and you know there’s no way you can climb to the top. You’ll have to find a way around.

But maybe, if there’s a natural cave system, the mechs can make a decent base inside.

You follow Poe along the wall, resisting the urge to drop your arms. Now that the end of your day is in sight, your shoulders feel tighter than ever after holding your holopad in front of you all day.

Up ahead. You can see the shadow darker than the rest surrounding it. Poe seems to already have spotted it, turning towards it. His head swivels around to glance at the forest behind you.

“How’s that gut, kid?” He tosses over his shoulder at you and you want to make a snide remark about being the same age. But you don’t.

“Hard to tell. Relieved at finding the cave. But.” You leave it hanging.

“But.” He agrees, turning towards the entrance of the cave. He digs into his bag, pulling out a torch. You take it from him, falling into step next to him.

“Poe,” you start, shining the light towards the back of the cave.

“We’ll just go back about two hundred feet, just to make sure it’s empty. Then we’ll camp at the entrance.” He promises, looking over at you. You nod and follow him back. The sharp pebbles littering the cave floor jab into the bottom of your feet, but complaining about it won’t do much good now.

Two hundred feet back and it’s clear, no bones, no signs of a nest. Good to camp in. Poe shoulders his long gun and turns towards you, taking your hand and leading you back to the mouth of the cave.

“I’ll go get some firewood, start setting up camp.” He says, squeezing your hand once before leaving the cave once more.

You glance nervously towards the darkness behind you, before starting to pull materials out of your bag. You manage to scrape out an even space for two sleeping bags and a campfire in the middle. You get the meal rations out just as he starts to come back with his muscular arms full of wood.

“Looks good.” He comments, dumping the hardwood off to the side. While he sets up the fire, your eyes are searching the trees across from the cave, the splintered shards of rock creating a beach almost, a boundary from the thick grass.

You can still hear the creaking and groaning from the trees. At some points, with the right echo, it’s almost as if they’re alive. The trees sound as though they’re moving, waking up as the last of the light disappears. The constant groans during the day were just them shifting in their sleep, now they’re ready to move.

Did they sense the presence of two tiny beings crawling around them? Are they coming for you now? Or are you too minuscule in comparison and therefore not worth the hassle?

“What’s going on in that big brain of yours?” Poe asks, looking up from the crackling fire.

“What if the trees are alive?” You ask worriedly and he laughs, pushing himself to come over and stand behind you.

“Okay, you’re way too tense. The trees aren’t alive. The wind is picking up out there, I think the temperature is about to drop. It’s natural for wood to expand and contract as it shifts. And if they are alive? Well, they’re too fucking tall to get us in here. I didn’t cut any trees to get this wood, just picked up what was scattered around.” He promises, those big, warm hands settling on your shoulders. You tense at the sudden touch, but it’s Poe-he's not going to hurt you. He would never hurt you.

“I might be a little uptight.” You admit sheepishly.

“It’s all the lack of orgasming.” He teases.

You open your mouth to fire back, but then his thumbs press deliciously into the flesh of your back and shoulders, and you’re cut off with a strangled moan. He squeezes, and then drags his thumbs up towards your hairline, your head dropping forward onto your chest and electric arcs race along your spine. He alternates his thumbs, pushing in and stroking upward on either side of your spinal column. Heat spirals through you as he slowly, methodically works all the tight muscles out of your back and shoulders. All the stress from worrying, all the aches from carrying the heavy pack and your holopad all day.

“Poe-“ you groan and he chuckles, guiding you forward to lay face down on your sleeping bag.

“Relax. We’ll eat in a minute.” He says softly, his breath ghosting across the back of your neck. His hands are strong, manipulating your flesh to get all the knots out along your back. He uses his knuckles to work out the taut muscles between your shoulder blades, easing the tension out of the bands of overworked, under appreciated tissue. He drags his fingertips up into your scalp and the stretch of it is heavenly. He squeezes the tightly wound muscles at the base of your neck and it sends tingles all the way down your spine as your breath comes out in a woosh.

Your eyes drift closed, drowning in the feel of it. He slowly works his way down the outside on your arms, getting all the sore muscles and you have to roll your face into your blanket to stifle the noise. To his immense credit, he doesn’t say anything to make you feel bad or embarrassed. He just keeps working until you’re a boneless mess in front of him. His hands grip your open ones down by your hips as he pauses.

“I’d offer to massage your legs, but even I know that’s too far.” He says teasingly and it’s probably a good call. But then he mumbles something under his breath, a little too quiet for you to hear properly, but it almost sounds like “I know my own limits.”

You start to push yourself up, but he stops you. “I never said I was done. Your feet must be killing you if mine are any indication.”

“You’re not wrong.” You mumble, laying back down. You shift and roll over onto your back, feeling your spine release the last bit of tension and it cracks as you exhale fully.

He eases your boots off and you flex your toes, trying to prepare for the inevitable tickling as soon as he touches you. He grips your ankle, all firm touches as he sits and pulls your foot onto his knee.

He glances at your face, which holds some kind of look of distress. “Don’t worry, I remember. I’m not looking to get kicked in the mouth again.” He grins, easing your apprehension once more.

“Why are you so good at this?” You sigh, resting your head back.

“At massages? I’ve had lots of practice.” He says casually.

You snort, having no doubt. “I meant all of it, dummy. Being isolated like this, you’re not afraid, you’re not losing your mi-iiind.” You gasp as he digs his first knuckle into the heel of your foot.

“You’re not losing your mind.” He laughs, dragging it up through your arch, adding more pressure so it won’t tickle. “And I’m okay with it because of you.” He adds. “You said that the bugs are big because they don’t have to be fast for survival. So, honestly, we’re probably the most dangerous things here.”

“So, why am I all jittery?” You ask, toes flexing as he presses his thumbs into your arch. Maker, it feels good.

“I don’t know. Maybe you don’t trust me to have your back?” He says, and you know it’s a joke. He would never believe that, so you roll your eyes.

“You are such a jerk. I take it back. You’re the absolute worst.” You huff and he grins.

“You tell me, Y/N. What’s making you so on edge? Why are you so nervous? Don’t sugar coat or rationalize.” He prompts.

You think for a long minute. “The trees creaking? It’s always behind us. Never once has it come from in front of you. It’s always behind me. Sometimes, I felt like something was coming up behind us, not a butterfly or anything. But I’d turn around and there was nothing there, nothing I could see, anyway. And when we would stop for water, or because of my weak ass legs, I would feel eyes on me. Something was watching us, it felt wrong and dangerous. Predatory. Even though we might be the only sentient beings on this planet, I don’t think we’re the most dangerous. It doesn’t feel that way.” You shake your head.

He’s quiet for a long time, working out the arches of your foot. “Alright. We’ll stick together. No going off on your own to take a leak, or get some pretty flowers. If you go, I go. Understand? If you’re that freaked out, or sensing something that strongly, we stay together.” He says, meeting your eyes.

“Deal.” You agree. He finishes with your feet and you push yourself up, gesturing for him to lay down.

“What?” He asks.

“Your turn. Fair is fair, and you know I’m good at it.” You remind him and he chuckles, laying down for you. You straddle the back of his thighs as he lays face down on your sleeping bag and you start with the thickly corded muscles in his back. You work slowly, being just as methodical as he was. By the time you get to the base of his scalp with his thick, luscious dark hair, his breathing has evened out and it’s shallow. If he’s not already asleep, he will be soon. You work out the tension in his hands, spreading the tight muscles with the pads of your thumbs. He makes a soft noise and you smile down at him, brushing his soft hair out of his eyes.

You shift down to his feet, easing his shoes off, working the heels and arches until his soft snores reach you. You chuckle to yourself and lean over him, pressing a kiss to his big shoulder as you take his rifle and go to sit by the door of the cave for the first watch.

He sleeps for a while, the massage clearly helps. You eat your food while you watch the night bugs float by. They’re huge, but thankfully don’t seem interested in you. About halfway through the night, Poe jerks awake with a start, looking around.

“Over here.” You call, pushing yourself up.

“I can’t believe you let me sleep.” He mumbles, wiping his eyes before pulling you into a hug. You rest your head on his chest for a moment, listening to his heart, strong and steady, as he’s always been.

“Well, it would hardly be fair for me to lull you to sleep and then wake you up to take the first watch.” You grin. “Besides, you needed sleep.”

He pulls back and cups your face gently. “You okay?” He asks. That’s what you love about Poe, he’s never been shy. If he wants to touch you, he will. Holding hands, hugs, pushing your arm, guiding you through a crowd. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t particularly care for your boyfriend, or maybe that’s just who he is as a person. But you like the honesty of it. He’s never changed a part of himself to suit anyone else.

“Yeah. I didn’t shoot any bugs by accident.” You shrug and he grins.

“That’s my girl, keeping it together one thread at a time.” He teases and you laugh, dropping your head forward.

“Go get something to eat. I’m gonna go use the little girl’s tree and then get some sleep myself.” You yawn, handing him the gun back.

“Did you forget what I said already?” He rolls his eyes. “If you go, I go.” He nudges you towards the entrance. “Go pee. And then I can get food.”

“It's right there.” You complain.

“What if I’m over there, stuffing my face, and you’re over here with your pants down, and some bat the size of a bantha carries you off into the night? How am I supposed to make it back to the ship?”

“So, you’re admitting you’re useless without me?” You tease and he searches your eyes for a minute before straightening and walking past you, shoulders brushing softly.

“Yes.” He adds and you pump your fists in triumph, turning to follow him. He leads you to the nearest tree, and waits on the side facing the cave while you walk into the dark shadows. Admittedly, you’re much less brave now. It’s so dark, neither of the planet’s two moons are visible behind the cloud cover. The only light is from Poe’s flashlight.

You quickly unbuckle your pants and lean back against the tree, nerves rattled. Your bladder freezes, refusing to relax.

“What’s the hold up?” He asks.

“You’re listening.” You mutter, trying to coax it out by repeatedly tensing and relaxing your muscles.

“Seriously? Now you have stage fright? It’s not like I haven’t heard you go before.” He reminds you and you cover your face with a groan. Shit, he’s right. Just fucking do it.

“Can you just… like… five steps, that’s all I’m asking.” You please and he grumbles but stomps loud enough for you to hear him walk away. It takes another second, but finally, you go. Peeing against a tree is hard work when you have a vagina.

You take care of your business and buckle up, walking back around the tree to find Poe exactly where you left him, having not walked away at all. “Dirty, rotten trickster.” You mutter and he slings his arm around your shoulders.

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“I’m not answering you. Good night.” You huff and turn to leave him at the entrance, before you pause and turn back. You quickly kiss his cheek and mumble a quick “eat something,” before walking away completely. The kiss was unprompted, and probably not very professional, but he very easily could have made you feel crazy earlier and didn’t.

You settle down on your sleeping bag in front of the fire, a chill sweeping through you. It’s not cold outside, but it could just be from being still for so long.

After a minute, you can hear him rustling through his bag and then the fire gets warmer in front of you. You smile and drift into unconsciousness.

In your dream, Poe is talking to you. You can’t quite hear what he’s saying, his words are muffled, and every once in a while, the crackling from the fire drowns him out. But his words are soft and gentle. His eyes are looking at your sleeping form, warm and melted chocolate in the light of the flames.

You move, ghost like, towards the opening, drawn to something outside. But the outside isn’t the same. There aren’t any trees as tall as the buildings on Coruscant. There’s white walls, smooth black floors; cold-sterile. A door hisses open to your right and you’re sucked through like a vacuum. This room is all black, red lights dot the walls sporadically and there are two uncomfortable looking contraptions in the middle, tables with metal straps, but upright and facing each other.

The floor drops out from under you and there are two men fighting with lightsabers, one a wicked looking double edged red blade, the other an elegant, cool blue. The one with the red saber, his face is horrifying, red and black streaks down his face and dangerous horns protruding from his bald head. The other man is young, short reddish hair, cream colored robes. They’re fighting for their lives around a massive return tunnel in the center of the floor.

A big gust of wind blows you down the tunnel and you cry out, rolling to a stop in the middle of the trees. You don’t know where you are, all the giant landscape looks the same. Your heart is pounding wildly as you turn around. Something is definitely alive, definitely evil.

As you turn, you spot your best friend, your partner, your commander. He’s fighting someone. You can’t see who, they’re just a dark shape-an outline. “Poe!” You cry out, trying to move through the dense foliage to get to him, to help him!

The shadowy figure pulls a knife out of thin air and plunges it into Poe’s chest, dead center. His warm brown eyes flick over to you as you scream, the earth trembling with your anger. The shadowy figure pulls the knife slowly from his chest and then stabs it up through his jaw, into his soft palate, piercing his brain. You scream, feeling your entire being shake apart at the molecular level, dispersing into the wind as Poe slumps to the ground, unmoving.

Chapter Four

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[smellsfaintlyofvanilla]

Hi, I have this super specific idea so feel free to ignore this one lol. So basically, Annie and the reader have been dating for a while, like at least a year. And the reader is in the survey corps right, so during one of the missions she ends up getting injured in an explosion and she's like all burned up and covered in injury's that'll scar really bad. And so the reader gets taken to a hospital or med bay or whatever, and she's been out for days, and like Reiner, Eren, Mikasa, etc. are all there, ya know her little gaggle of friends. And like she's been unconscious for days but sometimes she'll wake up for a few minutes and pass out again. So when Annie gets the news and comes to see her she like starts to wake up, and when she's coherent Annie is holding her hand and says "I'm glad you're alive" or something, then the reader just kinda stares at her for a minute and says "are you one of my friends from the cadet corps" and everyone's shocked and Annie kinda runs off. And ass the reader gets better she's allowed to walk around town and shit as long as someone's with her because she he's trouble walking, and she like can't hold things in one of her hands without shaking like she's about to fall apart. She basically hos no memories of absolutely anything so if someone says that their friends she just believes them and wants to be with them, which is a contrast to how she was in the cadets because she was always super short tempered and would pick fights with everyone, but she always had a soft spot for Annie and would follow her around and shit while being an ass to everyone else. So now she has no memories, blind as shit, can barely walk, and is super kind and polite to just about everyone. And like she insists on Annie seeing her and wants to go with her wherever she goes and is all smiles and happiness while Annie is kinda having a crisis. Because they were both very closed off people and they opened up to each other and built unwavering trust and loyalty but now one of them doesn't remember, Annie wants to help her but at the same time she feels that it's for the best if they stay apart, uh spoiler they don't stay apart it's just gonna take time. I'm really sorry this was so long dude. Also please tell me this made sense I haven't stopped think about this for days

I- It’s a little confusing but I think I get it.

Let me know if I get anything wrong!

I also included a lot of platonic AruAni because it’s cute.

Unbearable

(Annie Leonhart x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: Implied season 3 spoilers

Category: Both angst and fluff (somehow)

Summary: After getting seriously injured in a mission, Annie’s s/o doesn’t recognize anyone, and is left very weak. Still, Annie and her S/O stick together through the recovery.

Words: 5.5K

It’d gone wrong. It’d all gone horribly wrong.

A freak accident—only preventable by, perhaps, closer gear inspection, but it was far too late for that. The damage had been done.

The most recent Survey Corps mission was just concluding, and you managed to call yourself one of the lucky ones who survived this far. Erwin led the charge back to the walls at full speed, having completed the objective by the skin of his teeth, but an abnormal titan was tagging dangerously close behind.

The towering beast approached closer and closer, until it kicked the horse you were on, sending you and it abruptly flying through the air and away from the Scouts.

It took you a minute to regain your senses and realize the gravity of your situation. Your horse lay dying 40 feet away from you. Clearly, it would be of no help. The abnormal lurched towards you unnaturally, and your eyes widened in fear.

A quick movement of your upper body caused a jolt of pain to shoot up your chest, and you were positive you must’ve broke a few ribs when you collided with the dirt.

Still, you had limited time before the monster reached you, and you weren’t about to die that easily. You bore the pain in your chest as you stood up straight, beads of cold sweat rolling down your face as you surveyed your situation to find the easiest way out.

You were too far from your horse, and the rest of the Scout formation, and you were in no shape to run. Your head turned towards the walls, and an idea popped into your mind—you were going to scale the wall.

You broke into a quick sprint before you shot your ODM gear into the wall, flying towards it at lightning speed. Your back took the brunt of the impact, and you groaned in pain.

Still, it seems as if the abnormal wasn’t going to let you get a moment’s rest, as it caught up to you and tried to jump and grab you, but narrowly missed your boot. The rush of adrenaline kicked your body into gear as you shot the grapple of your ODM gear onto the ledge of the wall and hauled yourself up, a garrison soldier helping you before turning to man one of the cannons.

You stood up triumphantly on the wall, the titan below you still trying in vain to reach you. You could hear the distant shouting of a commander—and what you could out assume was the foreboding shout, “FIRE!!!”

And that’s where everything went wrong.

The cannon, no more than three feet to your right, exploded into a supernova of sparks and flames, and the last thing you saw was fire as blinding pain shot through your body.

And then it all went black.

---

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but only family members are allowed to see her at the moment, you’re going to have to wait until she’s discharged.” The poor receptionist sighed, staring up at the distressed woman in front of her.

“I don’t care if ‘only family is allowed’! I’m her girlfriend, I should be allowed to see her!” Annie shouted, dressed in a simple white hoodie and grey pants. An outfit too casual for her to wear outside in most occasions, but when she heard the news of your admission to the hospital, she didn’t care to change.

“I’m sorry, there’s really nothing I can do-”

Annie leaned in closer, grabbing the receptionist by the collar of her shirt and pulling her in, a dangerous look gracing her face. Her voice came out in a threatening growl.

“Look, I’m a part of the military police, so if anyone asks, I’m just her older sister,” She glared daggers the woman, who shook like a leaf at the intimidation, “Got it?”

The woman nodded urgently, sweating bullets at this point, and Annie was thankful the intimidation had worked. “R-Room 302...”

She didn’t bother letting out a response as she ran to the wing of the hospital you were in. She didn’t know quite where the room was, but she would find out soon enough.

After a painful few minutes of searching, her eyes found the plate outside of a closed wooden door, the number reading “302″.

She walked up to it, and took a deep breath in before twisting the doorknob and pushing her way into the room, but her eyes widened in surprise and she gasped at the sight.

She knew it was bad—after all, nothing good ever came out of being so close to an explosion like that—but she couldn’t have been prepared for what she saw.

You were laid down on the bed, clearly unconscious, and sweltering burns covered at least 60% of your body, especially your right side. Many limbs were elevated and covered in taunting white casting, and you let out shallowed, labored breaths.

She mentally cursed the primitive healthcare the Eldians seemed to have, and the lack of a doctor in the room. She was no professional, but you definitely didn’t look to be in a state to be alone.

She though you were alone, that is, until her rationality returned to her and she noticed many figures in the room, though none bore the staff uniform.

They seemed to notice her before long, and a few stared at her quietly with pity in their eyes. She scanned the faces that surrounded her; Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Connie, and Reiner were all present in the room.

“What in...” Her voice came out short in her throat; the words were just as powerless as she was, “What in God’s name happened to her...” It was hushed, almost husky, and it sounded like she was about to cry. Maybe she was, but she didn’t notice.

Mikasa seemed to be the first one to speak up through the heavy silence, stepping forward to grab Annie’s attention.

“It was on the recent scouting mission yesterday. She narrowly escape a titan by climbing over the wall, but one of the Garrison’s cannons blew up.” Mikasa looked to the side, clearly troubled by the situation as well. “Of the four people caught up in the explosion, she’s the only one still alive.”

Annie didn’t process quite what Mikasa had said at first, her mind was more focused on a pressing question that suddenly arose in her mind.

“The only one still alive?” She echoed. “Why did you phrase it like that?”

Mikasa sighed, covering her mouth with her scarf—something she often did when she was troubled. “Well, the doctor is doing all he can at the moment, but she’s been drifting in and out of consciousness nonstop for the past hour. Even when she is awake, we can’t seem to get a coherent response out of her.”

She froze.

Her eyes moved back to your battered form. She hadn’t taken in exactly how bad it was until now. Shattered bones, burnt skin, compromised organs—you were nearly unrecognizable. Not in the way that you were scarred beyond recognition, but in the way that she never imagined to see you in such a state. You looked like you had, quite literally, went through hell and back.

She let out a pained sigh, slinking down in a chair next to the bed and staring at the floor in defeat. She reached out and grabbed your limp hand at your side, running her thumb delicately over your burnt hand, as if the slightest mistouch would cause you to shatter like delicate porcelain.

“Please...” She knew you couldn’t hear her, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to pretend, for a brief moment, that you could, and that you’d bounce right back up. But, you stayed limp on the bed, unmoving. “Please wake up...”

The others were able to read the room and came to a silent consensus, filing out of the room wordlessly.

She continued to hold your hand, sitting silently on your bedside for hours.

You never regained consciousness once.

---

Dreams flashed through her mind, the inner turmoil she faced was too fierce to not have such vibrant, nonsensical dreams. Dreams of you, spending late nights with her, or eating with her in silence. Dreams of your broken and bloodied body being sent flying from a hellish firework of flames. Dreams of visiting a newly dug grave. Dreams of—

A loud banging startled her out of her sleep, and she opened her eyes with a start, the dreams stopping abruptly as her brain pieced together the fragments of reality. Right, they were just dreams.

The banging—what was it? She looked around for a source. Nothing had fallen, nothing had moved, the room was still.

*BANG BANG BANG*

She jumped at the loud so, before facepalming internally. Of course someone was knocking on the door, what was she thinking?

A quick glance at the clock showed the time; 3AM. What is going on?

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she threw on some sweatpants, just presentable enough to answer the door.

She twisted the knob open and was greeted by...

“Armin?” She slurred, confusion and tiredness laced her voice.

“Annie...!” He had a strange look on his face, like he was in a hurry. Yet, it didn’t look like desperation, nor was it excitement. “Y/n woke up!”

---

She had never run faster. She didn’t care about leaving Armin in the dust at her front doorstep—hell, it didn’t even process until minutes later that she didn’t even close the front door. She just ran, ran, ran all the way to the hospital.

She made it to your room again, panting and desperate to see you again.

She went inside, and an immense wave of relief and joy washed over her face. It was true, you were conscious. Sitting up in the bed, talking to someone at your bedside, likely a nurse or a doctor.

Her loud footsteps and heavy breathing brought the attention of both you and the staff member to her, and you locked eyes with her.

She froze. There they were. The beautiful E/C eyes she had fallen in love with, and the same ones that filled her vision when she first awoke next to you in the morning. Except, something was off. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was disarray in your eyes. A storm.

She paid no mind to the rotten gut feeling, though, and rushed by your side to grip your hand tightly. A spark of sympathy arose in her chest when you whimpered in pain at the motion, but that was the last thing on her mind. Tears of happiness sparked in her eyes and threatened to roll down her cheeks.

She bowed her head—a sign of vulnerability that only you were ever able to see.

“Y/n, I...!” She choked out through the tears in her eyes, the back of her throat tightening with emotion, “I’m so glad you’re okay...”

You didn’t embrace her, you didn’t squeeze her hand back. No, you were still. Still as you were when your battered body was first admitted to the hospital. She looked up at you, and the same misguided look was in your eyes.

“Sorry... do I know you?”

---

She slammed the door behind her, locking it as she slid down the wall of her house, sobs wracking her body.

Her mind had neglected to process it until just now, but the truth was inescapable; you didn’t know who she was anymore. You didn’t know anyone or anything anymore.

Amnesia.

She couldn’t bear to see you like that. Seeing you so physically broken was bad enough, but seeing you confused and lost, years of memories and connections and friends just out the window? If there was a god, he sure as hell must’ve hated you.

She had no idea what to do. You weren’t going to just magically remember her. No, the Y/N she knew and loved all those years was gone. You were just a blank slate. She no longer meant anything to you, she was a stranger in your eyes.

She laid down to go to sleep, but she couldn’t even bring herself to close her eyes. She didn’t sleep that night.

---

She chose not to get up the next morning. She stayed in bed, staring at the empty space next to her where you usually slept. She wanted you to be right there next to her. God, she wanted you back.

She would’ve stayed in her depressed, hibernated state for hours, or even days, had someone not stopped by to check on her.

She figured it would be Armin. The sympathetic blonde man would always stop by to check on her. Not just now, but throughout their days as cadets. He was always the second person—after you, of course—to check up on her and ask how she was doing.

But when she opened the door and saw Mikasa, she was a little confused.

“Mikasa, what are y-”

“Y/n wants to speak with you.” She stated flatly, and Annie physically recoiled at the mention of your name.

“She... what?” Annie muttered, confusion enveloping her tone.

She understood the statement, on a surface level at least. But she didn’t understand why. Why did you want to talk to her? She meant nothing to you. What was there to talk about anymore? You probably didn’t even know her name.

She complied silently, though, and before long, she had trudged herself all the way to the hospital.

302. Such a depressing number to her now. But it was unavoidable. You were on the other side of the door, awaiting her for some odd reason.

She pushed the door open, and her eyes met yours silently. You were sitting up with your hands folded neatly in your lap. Your eyes followed Annie as she wordlessly shut the door and took a seat next at your bedside.

“Annie.” The blonde women flinched at the sound of her name, eyes staying fixated on anything but your face. “Annie.”

She finally shifted her head, meeting your gaze. There was a pitiful look tracing her features. It would look like indifference at first glance, but being so close to her allowed you to notice small features on her face, like her sunken in eyes, and her lips, tucked into a frown slightly tighter than normal.

She looked like she was about to cry.

You moved your arm slowly, wincing internally as your wounds burned and ached, and took her hand in your own, rubbing your thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing manner. Annie didn’t want to enjoy it—she knew this wasn’t the you she had fallen in love with—but she couldn’t stop herself from remembering the simpler times, where small affectionate gestures like this were normal to her.

“Mikasa told me just about everything I’ve forgotten.” You finally spoke up. “About the Scouts, about the accident, about us.” A painful silence filled the room for a moment following the word ‘us’. Surely, it meant more to her than it did to you.

“Annie.” You squeezed her hand despite the pain shooting up your arm, and your hand trembled involuntarily. “I know I don’t really know you,” You chuckled lightly, “or anyone for that matter, but I want to spend more time with you. We can just restart, fall in love all over a-”

“No!” She snapped, the sudden outburst causing you to jump. Her distressed eyes softened when she saw you, almost as if she thought you were made of glass, and that you would break at any moment. “No... please...”

She stood up abruptly, dropping your hand to lay dormant by the side of the hospital bed. “You don’t even know me! What’s the point?!”

Despite her angry appearance, her bottom lip trembled, and her voice shook as she spoke. Pricks of tears appeared at the corner of her eyes, but she wiped them away desperately.

“You forgot me, so I’ll forget you in return.” She turned towards the door, grabbing the knob firmly. Despite her desperate need to get out of the room, her hand trembled and shook, refusing to turn the knob.

“I’ll...” A small sob wracked her body. “Find someone else...”

---

Contrary to what her heart truly desired, she refused to see you. She forced herself to cut off all emotional ties to you—after all, you didn’t even know her. It was painful to even speak to you. Somehow, the loss had felt like you truly had died in the explosion. Sure, you were physically here, but all that was you was gone.

It was Armin who finally brought her out of her depressed slump. He saw the state of her after weeks of staying huddled up in her room. It was so unlike Annie. Her room was a mess, and so was she. Her hair was unkempt and unbrushed, and she hadn’t even showered at all. Clothes lay scattered across the room, and the trash can in the corner of the room had started overflowing.

It wasn’t a pleasing sight, but he couldn’t blame her.

He had offered to meet him at a local café to talk—albeit, after she showered. She hesitantly agreed, and went into the bathroom to get ready. While she showered, Armin absentmindedly picked up some of the scattered clothing, putting it in it’s proper place, and even emptied the trash can for her.

He saw the slight shock in her eyes when she came out, surprised, but internally grateful for his help. She didn’t show it verbally, but she gave a thankful nod, and he understood.

---

Armin brought the cup to his lips, the steam flowing from the cup blocking his face as he sipped his tea silently, and Annie took another bite of her glazed donut.

“So, Annie.” He turned to face her, setting his cup down. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She sighed internally. Nothing yet had been spoken, but she knew it was about you. Her silence beckoned him to continue.

“I... No, we all noticed how you’ve been recently, and we understand it. Who knows what you’re feeling right now...” His sympathy went mostly unappreciated. She really didn’t want to be reminded of the depressive state she had fallen into.

“It’s completely up to you, but... we think it would be better for you if you decided to talk to her again.” Armin didn’t need to say who this ‘her’ was. Annie already knew.

She raised an eyebrow and considered his statement for a fleeting moment, but regained her stance. She wasn’t going to talk to you. No convincing from her friends would change that.

“See, the thing is, Y/N has been discharged.” He spoke, bringing the cup back to his face to preemptively fill the silence he anticipated.

No amount of emotional cover-up could hide the shocked look on her face. Part of her was ecstatic, deep down. She was glad you were well enough to leave. But, the other part reminded her that associating with you would only bring her more hurt.

“But, there isn’t really going to be any recovering from what she experienced, unfortunately.” He brought the cup back down onto the table, now empty of all it’s liquid. “So, the doctor advised that she be under careful supervision from someone at all times.”

Annie wasn’t stupid. She knew where this was going.

“So,” he huffed a breath of heavy air, “We decided that if anyone was going to take her in, it should be you, Annie. We want to take her back to live with you.” She could feel her jaw slack at the proposal, and a full-fledged war had just started in her mind. She registered he was still speaking, but was too conflicted to listen.

Once again, part of her mind was desperately trying to reach you. To take you in and care for you, and to ensure you have a safe and comfortable recovery with her. She could restart with you, and make new memories with you, and everyone else.

But she understand it would be painful. Unbearable, even. She might as well be taking care of a stranger. You didn’t act like Y/n, you didn’t look like Y/n, hell, you hardly even knew who Y/n was at this point. It would just hurt her even more, all she needed to do was get away from you—!

“Annie...!” Armin spoke firmly, slightly leaned over the table as if he had been prying for her attention for a while now. He reached across the table to grab her hand, causing her to gasp. His hand was warm. It reminded her of you.

“I know what you’re thinking.” His voice was soothing and inviting, and she was reminded once again of what great friends she had made in the 104th.

“You think it’s gonna hurt, and it will, I’m sure. I understand too. She doesn’t quite act like she did before, we all noticed. It’s...” He paused, leaning back in his chair and looking to the side. It had hurt him, too. “Strange. To see a friend like this.”

He leaned forward, pulling his hand away to place it back on the table. “But you have to do something! Separating yourself from someone you care about so deeply isn’t good for you.” He brought his head up slightly, staring daggers into her eyes. “And don’t lie to me. I know you still care about her. You wouldn’t be so conflicted if you didn’t.”

Tears pricked at her eyes once again. She didn’t want to get emotional, and certainly not here of all places. But she knew he was telling the truth. She still cared, and it wasn’t good for her to ignore you.

“Besides,” He stood up, turning to leave. “She misses you too, Annie.”

---

She made up her mind that day. She was gonna bring you back home.

It wasn’t easy. Both the emotional aspect, but also cleaning up her filthy room in such a short span of time. Still, she prepped it perfectly for your arrival. She cleaned up the room, organized her things, made the bed, and even bought a second pillow—surely, you two couldn’t share just the one.

Picking you up from the hospital was bittersweet. You managed to stay standing, although only with the help of a wooden cane. Your hand gripped the handle tightly, and you leaned a large portion of your body weight on it, just to not fall over.

You had changed out of the raggedy hospital clothes, finally getting to wear something comfortable after so long, but even with the cloth, the purplish-redish burn scars coated much of your body. It reached from the very fingertips of your right hand, all the way up your neck and part of your face.

Still, you smiled weakly and brought your hand up to wave at her.

She approached you hesitantly, but as soon as you tried to stumble over to her, she rushed up to support you with an arm around your shoulder.

“Easy, now.” She muttered. “You should be careful.”

“Right,” You chuckled nervously. “Sorry.” You breathed out a sigh of relief, having seen the outside for the first time in weeks. It didn’t stop the stone walls from towering forebodingly over you, though, but you felt at least some freedom.

“Where are we headed?” You sighed, and started walking. Annie guided you for the most part, but you managed to get your injured legs to cooperate, somewhat. You hand trembled as it gripped the cane, and even step on uneven ground caused you to stumble, but Annie’s grip kept you upright.

“We’re going...” She hesitated. “Home.”

---

Early morning birds chirped their greetings through the open windows, and the sun shone rays of dawn down from the sky. A typical wake-up call to her.

That, and your snoring.

She opened her eyes and stretched, easing up the tension in her muscles, which had laid painfully dormant for the past eight hours. Yawning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her attention shifted to the mass attached to her side.

Your arms were wrapped tightly around her torso, and your head was buried in her chest. Despite having lived with you for a few weeks now, she hadn’t gotten used to the change. In the past, neither of you really cuddled in your sleep. You gave sweet goodnights and passed out on opposite sides of the bed just like that.

It was a welcome change, though, and seeing you tucked so comfortably into her side brought a smile and blush to her face. She ran a hand through your messy h/c hair, smiling softly as you stirred in response to the affection.

“...Mm?” You let out a groggy noise, having been woken up a little earlier than you were used to. Annie was always the morning person in the relationship.

“Good morning.” She cooed, removing her hand to sit up and get out of bed. Once she tried to stand, though, she felt a frail hand tug at her wrist. You grip was weak as a result of your injuries, and she could very easily wiggle out if she wanted to, but she faltered.

“C’mon...” You muttered, face down in the blankets, still halfway asleep. “Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Annie huffed in defeat, climbing back into the bed and shuffling back under the cotton sheets. You were back at her side in an instant, and she smiled once again. Even after everything, you were still just as cute as always when you were sleepy.

“We can’t stay like this for very long, you know.” She sighed, placing a warm, calloused hand on your back.

You groaned in annoyance at that. “Why’s that?”

“Armin and the others invited us out to get lunch. It’s been a while since the Survey Corps has had a day off.” She looked to the side before muttering quietly. “I also have to go to work with the military police... I’ve used up all my paid leave.”

“Oh... yeah, we should probably get ready.” Contrary to your tone, you were actually quite happy. Annie had been quite a bit overprotective of you since your injury, so you hadn’t gotten the chance to get out much. You couldn’t blame her much, though. You could hardly walk, eat, or do just about anything without assistance. You were glad she took good care of you, but it got a little overbearing sometimes.

“Let’s get up, then.” She said, slinking out of bed. You watched wordlessly as she slipped out of her night clothes into something more presentable, sliding her shirt over her head effortlessly. You couldn’t help but blush as your eyes trailed down her toned stomach.

She looked back at you with an unamused expression as she slid on a plain white shirt. “You shouldn’t stare, Y/n.”

“R-Right.” You looked away flustered. You had only technically known her a few weeks now, but man were you lucky.

Annie’s warm hand enveloping your own brought you back into reality, and you accepted her help wordlessly as you got out of bed.

She helped you out of your clothes and handed you something nice to put on for the day. It was a comfortable ritual the two of you got into, helping you get dressed in the morning.

She sat you down in one of the chair’s in her room, ordering you to stay put while she went to the military police mess hall to pick up breakfast for the two of you.

She came back into the room only a few minutes later, carrying two trays of food, and sat them down in front of both of you. It was a boring meal, typical of any military ration, but you didn’t complain.

“So, Annie,” She looked up from her food, still digging her fork into the baked potato on her plate. “Tell me a story.”

She smiled longingly, staying silent for a moment as she recollected her memories for a good story to tell. Ever since you lost your memory and started staying with Annie, you often spent mealtimes getting her to tell stories about you, her, and your other friends. About what happened in the 104th, and the Survey Corps, and sometimes, you’d ask Annie about her childhood and time before the military. She seemed very hesitant about the last one, but she still told you bits and pieces. You could easily infer that she didn’t have a very pleasant childhood, so you didn’t push the subject.

“Well,” Annie finally spoke, swallowing a gulp of water from her glass, having seemingly found a story she felt like telling. “One time, in the 104th, Sasha had managed to convince you to steal food from the pantry with her.”

You listened intently as she continued recounting the events, a sad smile on her face. “So you and her snuck in late at night, but Shadis heard both of you because of how loud Sasha was. So then, you two had no where to go but a tiny cramped pantry in the kitchen, and then—”

*CRASH*

You sat there like a deer in headlights as the glass shattered into hundreds of transparent shards on the floor, startling Annie out of her nostalgic trance.

“Y/n!” She exclaimed, standing up from her seat swiftly. She spotted the broken glass, mixed with the water it had held, and looked back at you. Once she pieced it together, she facepalmed.

“Y/n...” She sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you to not to try and pick up things right now...”

“Sorry,” You muttered. “I just wanted to see...”

Despite the severity of your injuries, you were quite stubborn. No matter how much Annie insisted that you not hold things in your state, you did so anyway. It seldom worked, since, like now, you always dropped it within seconds.

“It’s... It’s fine,” She sighed, leaning down to carefully pick up the larger fragments of glass. Once she got the larger pieces, she dumped them in the trash and knelt down in front of your chair on one knee, grabbing your hand in her own. “But you need to remember, your injuries haven’t healed yet. Nowhere close. I know you hate it, but you need to let your body rest.”

You nodded sorrowfully. Yet, despite how much you promised, you knew you’d never really stop trying to push your body. Even if your skin was scarred, and hands were shaky, and the muscles of your legs atrophied and partially-paralyzed, you would never stop trying to live a normal life.

Annie had finished sweeping up the smaller shards of glass in the dustpan, and dumped it into the trash can, before returning to the table.

Silently, she grabbed her glass, still half filled with water, and brought it up to your lips. When you had first started living with Annie, you were a little embarrassed about having to be fed like this, but you had long since gotten used to it.

Once the glass was empty, she sat it down on the tabletop once again, and checked the time.

“Shit, we should get going, it’s nearly time.” She sighs, grabbing your cane from it’s spot leaning against the wall and handing it to you. You thank her and, with her help, stand up from your spot. Her arm slinks around your waist, allowing you to lean half of your body weight on the cane and the other half on Annie.

As you made your way out of the building and down the street towards the restaurant, you finally broke the silence.

“Annie?” You asked, quietly. There was an uncharacteristic sadness to your voice.

“Yes, darling?” She inquired, keeping her eyes glued on the trail in front of you.

“How come you still take care of me? Even after the accident, you still stick with me. Why is that?”

Annie chuckles dryly. She doesn’t want to tell you that it’s still a sore subject for her, so she answers honestly.

“It wasn’t so black and white, really. It was pretty upsetting to see someone I loved so much not even recognize me at all.” Her eyes bore into the pavement below her feet. “No offense, of course.”

“None taken.”

“But a friend of mine talked to me about it. And I realized there would be no point in running from it. I decided that if you didn’t know me, I would make you fall in love with me all over again. Plus,” She looked to the side, a faint red blush on her cheeks. “I didn’t want you to feel lonely...”

You giggled at her embarrassment, opening your mouth to say something, but she cut you off quickly.

“We’re here.” She stopped in front of the doors, and you easily spotted Mikasa, Armin, and Jean already sitting inside at one of the tables, exchanging lighthearted banter.

“Hey Annie.”

“Hm?” She turned the knob of the door, stepping foot into the bustling room.

“Thanks for taking care of me.” You sighed, a small smile gracing your lips.

“Of course.” She smiled in return. “I’ll always be here for you.”

“Oi!” Jean shouted from across the room, and Armin immediately tried to shush his yelling, but he wasn’t phased. “Annie, Y/n, hurry up!”

You and Annie giggle at his boisterous attitude, walking over to find your seats.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen you, Y/N.” Mikasa smiled warmly, tucking her scarf around her neck.

You smile at the three of them, looking so happy and peaceful. You’ve missed it.

“Yeah,” You laugh. “So, what did I miss?”

This feels badly written but I can’t place it, I dunno.

Probably ‘cause I wrote the first half like a month ago and only finished it today lol.

And no I totally didn’t reference someone else’s fic in this haha nope

[bakugohoex]

bakugou !! with a reader that beats him in the sports festival and takes first place and all his friends laugh at him for losing to a girl and he's all like "i let her win!!>:((" but then she confronts him bc she's annoyed he Still hasn't acknowledged her as a potentially amazing future pro hero and u can make up thereee

“how am i supposed to protect everybody if i can’t even protect you.”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: fluff, langauge, kissing

word count: 1500+

a/n: hii, sorry this might have taken a while been busy per usual, hope you liked this and per usual i always make them get together in the end because i’m sap with no boyfriend

summary: in which you and bakugo are the ones to go against each other in the final of the sports festival and after you win, he makes it seem like he let you win, after confronting him he finally gives you what you wanted.

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

The good old UA sports festival, an easy win for the boy who had told the entire arena he would win.

He had such high expectations for himself.

That’s until you came around.

He hated your quirk with a burning passion.

He hated how you could easily get past him and find his faults.

Worst of all he hated the smug look you had every time you won against him.

He was supposed to be the strongest.

Not you.

So when the final fight occurs between you and the spiky blond.

He was pissed.

He saw how you won against Todoroki with ease and the smirk you had then would never amount to the smirk that you would have crushing him.

“You ready to lose, Bakugo.” He hated the way you had such malice in your voice.

He wanted to punch it right from your pretty little mouth.

Maybe he did admire your quirk and the hatred was a mask.

But that smug look you gave him angered him to the boiling point.

With ease you used your quirk to move past him dodging his hits, he knew you weren’t trying, weren’t bothering.

He even swore he saw you checking your nails and then he saw it.

The yellow bright wisps tangling between your fingers, it almost matched his own explosions that you dodged.

And then you hit him, punching him in the gut.

He didn’t even realise how far you’d gotten to him, a close proximity.

And now that you were using your quirk properly, he resented it.

That one punch made him lose the air in his lungs, one touch was all you needed, and you could control his muscular body.

He always tried to not get close to you, tried to keep a distance.

But you’d evaded his attacks by slicking back side to side past his aim.

He was slow, no. He wasn’t you were just too perceptive, having a quirk that made you touch anything and control it had other perks.

Your ability to control your surroundings just with one gaze up and down.

You knew where his explosions would go.

“I think you’ve lost.” You were smirking as you hummed.

He felt disgraced at how easily you controlled his limbs to move out of the area.

He hated how you had won and there was destruction around you, but you weren’t scratched.

Most of all he hated that you were better than him, that you’d protect them all and that was his job.

You defiantly gloated a bit but once you got the medal and an angry Bakugo stood beside you, you felt bad.

Being the sweetie you are you followed him out to tell him he did good.

But that’s when you heard it.

“I can’t believe you lost to a girl again.” Denki laughed out, Kirishima tried to not say anything sympathising with Bakugo.

Hell, he had fought against you and lost himself due to needing contact as well. Denki the only one scared of you had never dared to partner up with you, but it hit a nerve for Bakugo.

He was angry, pissed even, how could he be a hero if he had lost. How could he protect yo...everybody if he lost against your quirk. The acknowledgement that you had a better quirk, were more perceptive, kinder to civilians. How could he ever beat that, and how could he stop thinking about you and that damn quirk.

“I let her win.” Your eyes widened at the comment and anger boiled over you.

“Bako...” Kirishima was about to speak but you stormed out from your hiding spot.

“You let me what?” You shouted it, he noticed the yellow wisps surround your fingers and Denki and Kirishima were scared to say the least.

Kirishima grabbed Denki’s sleeve, “that’s our cue to leave.”

They walked away and with your brows furrowed and a sneer on your lip you were pissed. “Didn’t you hear me?” He mocked. “I. Let. You. Win.”

You were ready to punch him, make his bones break under your command. But you saw after how he looked down not meeting your gaze.

“Bakugo, i came here to say how you did good, just fucking accept i won and stop acting like a dick.” You had started calm, the yellow disappearing but by the end you became pissed once again.

He didn’t meet your gaze, staring at how your fingers looked rough and calloused, he knew you’d go straight into your bag and get the hand cream that smelled of cherries. He always noticed the smell, cherries or mangos, whatever it was it made him shudder.

Looking up at how your UA jacket was unzipped the black tank top encasing your chest, he noticed your heavy breath at hoe your breasts fell up and down with your breathing. Your neck had a scratch across it, maybe one of his hits did get you.

He finally looked up to your face, the scowl on your face waiting for him to speak. He was ready to say something, but he noticed how plump your lips were. How even thought they were dry they looked ever so delectable

“Bakugo.” You repeated his name, but he was in a daze thinking of you.

He often did this around you, just stared and dazed out thinking about each of your features. It wasn’t because he liked you or anything, he just wanted to get a feel for your weaknesses of course. That’s what he would tell himself every night even though it was a blatant lie.

Hell, even the class had caught on. He would sometimes just stop talking when you walked into a room, and when Sero or Kirishima would ask about it. He would say you was scoping out the enemy, it was a lie, and they all knew it.

You were oblivious and whilst tapping your foot you waited crossed arm for an answer. “I...i...” He was stuck taking in a sharp breath he tried to speak.

The only thing that came into your head was to do something that you never wanted to do. You moved your calloused hand to his face; you felt his want cheek cup against your palm, and you activated your quirk.

“Tell me the truth Bakugo, why did you lie?” He hated how you used your quirk on him but even then, it was a relief that whatever he would say would be what he believed to be the truth and that was that it was a blow to his ego.

That’s all he had wanted to say but the real truth had come out, “how am i supposed to protect everybody if i can’t even protect you.”

Your eyes widened at the comment, letting go of his face. His eyes turned wide, and ears reddened, “w...what?”

This time you were breathless, and you waited for an answer, you turned your quirk off scared to hear anymore.

“I didn’t mean that i don’t care about protecting you, you...you mean fucking nothing to me.” It was all a lie, and you knew it was, his scarlet eyes told no truths.

“That’s not what you said before.” You tried to surprise a snicker to not make the situation worse, but his eyes looked full of regret now.

He took another sharp breathe before finally deciding to confess, “i meant what i said, if i can’t protect you and you’re always protecting me how can i save everybody, how can i be the one who will save you?”

“Bakugo, I don’t need saving or protecting, I want us to be equal and protect each other.” He shakes his head folding his arms.

“You don’t understand what I’m trying to say.”

“Then show me what you’re trying to say.” He thought about your words.

You wanted him to show you, so that was what he’d do. “I’ll fucking show you then.” He grabbed your face, his lips on yours, the long-awaited kiss that had been brewing between you two. It felt real, more real than both your dreams of this moment.

You always acknowledged your feelings, you weren’t an ass just to anybody, only him. You gave the same energy back to make him fall for you, but he saw past your comments and saw your kindness to others. A stark contrast, how you adored wanting to be a hero and most of all how you stuck by your aims through to the end.

His hands caressed your cheek, even with the teeth on teeth, lips on lips, it felt softer but in reality, a mess. You both had craved each other too much, all the pent-up anger from losing against you and the comment Bakugo had made, had made the kiss become lustful and full of sin.

He didn’t care who saw, he didn’t care anymore, you would become an amazing hero and he would as well. But you both would stay by each other’s side till the very end. You would protect him, and he would always protect you. 

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alainarose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @chrrylevi @ukaisgratefulwhore @answer-the-sirens

[megumi-stan]

|Soothe Me | M.F x Reader

A/N: It’s Soft Megumi hours! This was supposed to be a NSFW piece, but it was just so sweet i didn’t want to take the story there and distract from his loving and overall caring energy! 

All characters are aged up in this story! Also, quick reminder that I’m open for requests :) 

Dedication: Thank you so much @timewehad​ for sending such a sweet ask! You definitely motivated me to finish this thing i started a few days ago and completely forgot in my drafts! 

Fighting curses for a living had a price. Besides the constant endangerment of your life.

Sore muscles.

Every time you bent down to tie your shoes, seven different muscles pulled painfully and at least ten vertebrae locked in place, forcing your body into a struggle to straighten itself. If you could walk just looking at the floor without it being weird, you wouldn’t bother to endure the hell that came with a straight spine. If only you had eyes in the top of your head like some of those slimy creatures you fought regularly, your life would be ten times easier.

After one particular busy night, your bed was calling your name. Busy in the sense that little weak curses kept popping around every corner nonstop, like a wicked game of whack-a-mole, only without the hammer. If you had one of those at hand, you surely would feel a lot less stressed. Something about smashing things was an exceptional way to relieve pent-up frustrations.

Walking up to your bed proved to be an arduous task, with your stiff legs and trembling muscles, but slowly you made progress. Your chest felt like it was about to cave in from exhaustion as you were slightly aware of the shower running and Megumi’s soft voice mumbling the lyrics of some cheesy 80’s love song he unexpectedly knew the lyrics of.

The soft comforter brushed your legs when you got to the bedside, and with no grace flopped down face first into it. You tried to kick off your slippers, but failed terribly as they refused to let go of your feet, so giving up you just left your legs dangling off the side.

Megumi’s sweet singing and the storm outside was a perfect recipe for sleeping, and right at that moment sleeping was all you could manage. Lulled, you drifted off into the place between dream and reality, still slightly aware of everything going around you but too busy making up fictional scenarios where you were laying on Megumi’s chest as a soft warm breeze ruffled your hair and the smell of ocean drowned the smell of coffee that lingered in your bedroom.

“What are you doing?” The fog dissipated, and suddenly you were face to face with your boyfriend.

Megumi had gotten out of the shower and was crouching down on the floor. A soft smile curved the tip of his full lips and amusement glinted in his eyes. Your eyes scanned his face and traveled lower, to the sharp curve of his jaw and the smooth skin of his throat. Drops of water still clung to his bare chest and glistened under the warm light of lamp resting on your bedside table. He looked like one of those greek gods you often appreciated in old paintings, all hard muscle but with a peaceful aura surrounding him, looking like he was a minute away from growing wings and taking off into the sunlight.

You hummed in acknowledgment and turned to your side, ten different vertebrae and a shoulder blade popping in the process. You winced, eyes drifting shut at the sharp spike of pain followed by the bliss of relieved pressure off of your nerves.

“Well, that sounded painful...” His fingers brushed a stray strand of hair out of your eyes and they lingered on your cheekbone, tracing idle circles on your skin.  “I’m assuming work was a pain on your ass, huh?” Leaning in, his mouth lingered above your brow for a millisecond before pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead. His breath tickled you and warmth blossomed in your heart.

He got up and walked to the pile of clothes resting stop of a chair in the room’s corner. Your eyes followed his figure and never once blinked as you took in his graceful strides and the patch of pale skin often hidden by his pants, but now on full display because of the towel that hung dangerously low on his hips. He always complain about the word “beautiful” every time you used it next to the “you are”. He would argue non stop, stating you were just trying to boost his ego, but you never once found another word to describe him, and somehow you still felt that Beautiful wasn’t enough.

Not even the other girls gawking at him in the streets and shamelessly flirting while you, obviously his partner, stood next to him seemed to prove your point to Megumi. You couldn’t even be angry at the flirts. He was a sight worth of painting, framing, even adoring. He could be a god disguised as a mere mortal for all you knew, and even that would make more sense. It shouldn’t be possible for someone to be as breathtakingly beautiful as he was.

Even casually standing and just roaming through the pile of clothes, he made your stomach curl with something hot and heavy. The muscles on his arms flexed and his shoulder blades moved underneath his skin, doing very interesting things under the dim lights that had you hypnotized, eyes glued to his back and taking in everything they could, committing every single dip and crevice to memory. You could barely breathe while looking at him.

As if he could have felt your eyes on him like a caress, Megumi looked at you from the corner of his eye, a smirk tilted his mouth and a small barely noticeable dimple appeared on his cheek. Your muscles tensed at the sigh, suddenly too hot and bothered to relax when it was obvious he was evening something. The glint in his forest green irises was a dead giveaway.

Sighing intently while his eyes never once left your form, he loosened his grip on the towel. The white fabric slipped across his legs as it came undone and landed at his feet. Traveling the distance your fingers twitched to travel as well. He was sideways, showing you his profile as he grabbed a pair of loose black sweatpants. His well-defined thighs were teasing you, seemingly mocking you along with the deep V on his hip. His position was so that nothing too inappropriate could peek, and you were never awakened as fast as in that moment.

He slipped the pants on, managing not to flash you in the process and came right by your side, the smell of spice and pine from his deodorant enveloped you in a hug as he, in a sweet action that had your belly feeling funny from the amount of butterflies fluttering around, took off your slippers, his fingers casually brushing the arc of your feet and triggering chills down your arms.

“Thank you...” You muttered, turning to lie on your back. Another joint popped, but you couldn’t feel which one it was. Megumi Chuckled at this and shook his head while circling the bed. He sat down with his back against the headboard, going through his phone. His hip bone was leveled with your head and the temptation to just press your lips against it was poking your brain, but your body refused to move a few inches to do so. You were so exhausted and even tho it was worth it you couldn’t for the love of god lift your head from the mattress.

“Tired?” he questioned, while his fingers made their way to your head and sunk into your hair. With knowledge he had from years of dating and even before that when you two were just friends, Megumi’s fingers stroke your scalp, earning a soft hum of approbation from you. You looked up and found his eyes already on you, phone long forgotten because of the new task he had at hands.

“Yeah, a little…” You said, with your eyes fluttering close to enjoy the attention he was giving you.

Megumi patted your head a few times to catch your attention, and when you looked at him, he extended his arms towards you, asking you to get in between them. “Come here…” He invited, a sigh laced in his words.

You tried to push yourself up from the bed, but your treacherous arms failed you, giving up under your weight and sending you face first into your bed.

“Your helpless… You know?” Megumi chuckled under his breath before one of his arms snaked around your waist, his bicep flexing and pulling you onto his lap. Once he had you where he wanted, with your back pressed against his chest and his hands resting on your midriff, he kissed your cheek. Your eyes drifted shut simply enjoying his presence, letting the even rais and fall of his chest calm your mind. “Can i have a kiss?” he muttered, resting his chin on your shoulder, and peering at you with those forest green eyes that seemed to shine, and when he was so tender towards you, how could you deny?

Your chest soared with his words, so you turned your head to meet his awaiting lips, you could almost feel the softness of his mouth when a sharp searing pain stabbed your spine halting your movements as you squeezed your eyes tight. “Shit,” You cursed, pressing your palm against the ache in the back of your neck, hoping it would do something to soothe it.

“Oh, god… Baby, let me see?” Megumi’s fingers pried yours away and then brushed your hair away. His fingers thumb brushed your skin two times over the spot you were holding, and even though it still hurt, his concern seemed to tone the pain down a little.. “Does this hurts?” He applied a little more pressure and when you didn’t wince he kept going, tracing circles and working to erase the knots and kinks that bothered you. “Lean forwards for me…”

Doing just what Fushiguro instructed, you leaned forwards as he shifted underneath you. Suddenly you were no longer sitting on top of his legs but instead sitting in the mattress while his thighs circled yours, pressing against them and allowing his warmth to seep into your legs through the fabric of your jeans.

His other hand soon joined, and his fingers massaged your shoulders and neck intently. You could still feel the burn and sometimes when he pressed a little to hard on a specially sore spot you would yelp and try to get away from him, but he was fast to apologizes and land a kiss on the side of your neck.

You two spent fifteen minutes in that comfortable silence, until he perked up and and halted his movements

“I know what to do… Hold on a minute.” He shuffled behind you and leaped out of the bed, walking away into the bathroom without any explanation.

You just sat there, waiting, and wondering if he had some kind of lotion or cream to help you. You couldn’t recall ever seeing one in the shelves, but he often bought things and forget about them hours later.

The sound of running water rushed out and drowned the silence. You counted on your head, one minute, two, three… Still no signs of Megumi coming back to bed.

“Megumi?” Your answer came in the form of footsteps. Coming out of the room, he smiled at you as he approached. “What are you doing…?”

“Come here…” He said, not answering your question and scooping you up in his arms. On instinct your legs circled his waist while he supported your weight with his hands underneath your thighs.

“Megumi!” You laughed, surprised, clinging to his shoulders while he walked you two back into the steamed filled bathroom. The scent of flowers was what hit you first, closely followed by the sight of a filled tub with bubbles. “What?… Did you do this?” You asked in wonder, feeling cupid just shot another dozen arrows into your already pierced heart.

“Of course… You’re not feeling well, and a warm bath is a wonderful solution.” Pride shone in his eyes. He lowered you on the edge and took a step back. “Get in, and I’ll be right back.” He moved towards the door but hesitated before exiting the room. “Can you take off your clothes? Because I wouldn’t mind helping you out with that…”

“Oh god…” Embarrassment hit you like a wave and you covered your heated face with your hands. “That won’t be necessary, thank you. “

“Just looking out for my girl.” the dimple appeared again, and you almost wanted to crawl under the water to hide from the embarrassment. Even after all this time, he still earned a reaction from you.

“I’m sure you do.”

His laugh lingered in the air as he exited, and with shaky fingers you unbuttoned your jeans and slipped them off. The muscles on your back pulled as your pulled the hem of your shirt over your head, but you endured it. The sweet call of the warm water had you stripped down and inside the tub in no time.

Bubbles covered your chest as the heat from the water seeped into your body, the water brushed your chin as you just felt all the exhaustion from the day drain out of your body. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you lounged in the water like a tea bag without a care in the world.

“Comfortable?” Looking up, he was next to you once again.

“Very...”

He tapped something on his phone, and a soft guitar strummed. He placed it on the mirror shelf before grabbing the elastic of his pants. Noticing he was actually pulling them down, you turned away, covering your eyes.

“What are you doing!?” You asked, startled.

“Well... You seriously don’t expect me to get in with my pants on, do you?” He said matter-of-factly. And a shiver raced down your arms, while a heated wave pooled at the pit of your stomach.

“Are you getting in? You just showered! ” You stole a glance at him, forcing your gaze to stay on his face.

“Yes, but then you weren’t sitting in the bathroom with this much skin exposed... are you really embarrassed?” Laughing kicked the garment off. “You just watched me change a few minutes ago.”

“Shut up, Megumi.” You whined, fighting the urge to let your eyes roam.

“Come on, scoot over.” He laughed. “ I’m worried your might combust from embarrassment.”

Sighing, you moved forwards on the tub, letting enough space for him to sit behind you. The water rippled around you before you felt his soft skin brushing your bare back. His hands found yours and laced your fingers together.

“Better?”

“Yes, thank you, love...” You whispered, bringing your joined hands to your mouth and kissing his knuckles. Scars from past battles scattered the surface but you could only a testimony of his strength.

“Of course.” He squeezed you against his chest for a few heartbeats before asking. “Do you mid if I wash your hair?”

A heat that had nothing to do with the water temperature and all with the rumble of his words crept from your toes to your neck.

“I think I’d like that.”

Grabbing the bottle of shampoo, he dropped some of it on his palm and then he started robbing your scalp in lazy circles, his nails gently scraping it. You could feel his head swinging to the beat of the song sounding in the bathroom, before his voiced joined in.

Lyrics about love and happiness tumbled out of his mouth with a subtle rasp to them. And suddenly you were back to thinking about your dream, the one with beaches and warmth. Maybe a vacation wouldn’t hurt... You considered bringing it up, but the atmosphere was too serene to disrupt it with questions about his schedule. If you asked, it meant he had to stop singing in order to answer you, and that was the last thing you wanted at the moment.

Surely it was the warm water and his fingers, but sitting there listening to his voice and feeling his breath brushing your face, you concluded that Megumi’s mere presence was all you needed to feel better.

[skellebonez]

Hear me out: Spider Macaque in the Spider Monkie AU with prompts 14 and 35?

I hear you and oh this was way too much fun... I took a great deal of liberty with exactly how Mac transforms into his Spider Monkie form and who says what and the TIMELINE because I... re-wrote this into a ship fic because of you. I call it ShadowCodingShipping because someone had to name MacaqueSyntax eventually! I guess you could say this is definitely a what-if story more than anything.

Warning for body horror because Mac is slowly turning half spider and that's kinda gross and painful. Also this is hurt/comfort but heavy on the HURT. This does not have a happy ending.

Am I scaring you?/I believe I can be of some help here.

"Am I scaring you?" Macaque asked with a smirk, pain clearly barely held at bay behind it. The monkey demon was a mess, fur tussled and miscolored splotches that hadn't yet grown in properly littered his torso. His torso that had gained a good inch in the last failed attempt at... what they were trying to accomplish. "... are you going to answer me, scientist?"

Syntax did not answer. Whether it was out of fear or knowing that regardless his answer would not make the demon leave him be even he didn't know.

"Queenie calls you Syntax," Macaque continued, moving around the computer to watch him over the screen. "That can't be your name, can it? I didn't give enough of a shit to ask before now. Hey. Hey. Hey. H-"

"No, it is not my birth name," the scientist snapped eventually, watching as Macaque smirked in victory. "Only a complete fool would agree to work with someone as infamous as the Spider Queen and use their legal name as if they were sending an unencrypted message containing confidential information across basic messaging applications without a VPN. What in the world are you trying to accomplish?"

"Ooooo, wordy," Macaque chuckled out as he leaned against the monitor and made it tilt at an awkward angle. "I'm. Bored. Entertain me, scientist, you're the most interesting person in this place. believe it or not."

Syntax raised a brow at the demon, sighing as he continued to type into the computer. "Do you want this to be finished any time soon? Because the more you bother me the longer it will take. I may be able to multitask but humans have limits."

Macaque scowled for a moment before shrugging, failing at hiding a grimace of pain. It must have made the new bones in his spine ache horribly. But he moved easily past Syntax without a word, only whipping his tail against his shoulder as he left.

It didn't hurt at all... he wondered what the point of the gesture even was.

~

The screaming rang through the entire hideout, Syntax's ears ringing even as he covered them. They'd tried twice more in their attempts at Macaque's twisted idea, Spider Queen slowly seeming to become less and less comfortable with not only their methods but with what they were even doing. It was working, sort of, but not correctly.

The changes were supposed to be immediate, so fast that the pain receptors wouldn't register properly. Not for the comfort of the converted, but so that it would happen so quickly they wouldn't be able to fight it. Less pain, less of a change for your body to try to fight off the transformation. Syntax had insisted on mechanical changes, nano-bots or something of the sort instead of organic growth. Macaque himself had vetoed this, saying something about how it wouldn't make him feel whole again.

This made the changes slow. Too slow, so much so that the mixture was fought off by his immortal monkey biology too quickly for it to take hold the way it was supposed to, requiring Syntax to make it stronger and stronger each time in the hopes it would finally kick in.

Now Macaque laid on the ground, holding his face and screaming so much Syntax feared his vocal cords would give out. The last two treatments had lengthened his torso even more and changed his fur consistency entirely. Once soft and thick black fur was a mixture of that and the coarse purple hair of a spider, not meshing together at all and instead forming an odd pattern on his body. At some points silver had begun to peak through, though if that was supposed to happen or if it was a reaction to the sheer stress of his body undergoing a change that should not be happening he was not sure. Syntax could see the red mark on his face warping, changing into the same purple on his torso around his eyes and moving up on his face as two more eyes grew above the ones he already had. It was fascinating to be sure, and he would have said that it was almost pretty had it not seen the build up of them forming in a fashion he wished to never see in slow build up ever again.

He was a scientist. He was supposed to be impartial to his work above all else, and he had agreed to help of... mostly his own volition. But this... This made him more uncomfortable than he was ready to admit.

"Help him up," Spider Queen said after Macaque collapsed onto the floor, screaming ceased as his body fought off the mixture for the fourth time. She looked... perturbed. Discomforted. "After his last treatment... move on to your idea. We are not doing this again."

She moved out of the room quickly, to fast to even tell her if he would or not, covering the side of her face with her hand to shield her from the sight of the collapse man on the floor. Yes... discomforted indeed.

Syntax didn't have that luxury. And he would not leave Macaque to lay on the floor regardless of orders. But the way he shook and covered his new eyes and the small amount of tears leaking from his normal eyes made a pang of pity shoot through him. He was a scientist... but he was still human.

"I believe I can be of some help here," he said softly, taking off his lab coat and folding it part way before shoving it under Macaque's head and laying the unfolded part over his face. The demon let out a half whimper, clearly bit back as he didn't want to show weakness, but eased ever so slightly as he realized the coat blocked out the light of the lab just as well as his hands had. "It's not a perfect solution, but it gets the job done.

"Th-thought Queenie s-said to help me u-up," Macaque stuttered out, moving his hands to grip the coat instead of his eyes.

"Yes, but that would be a bad idea," Syntax explained, sitting on the floor next to him with a sigh. He pulled his tablet down from a nearby table, there was no point in not getting at least some work done, and began scribbling away with the attached pen. "Your eyes are far too sensitive and with the other changes you have gone through your body will likely collapse again before we could get you to a cot. It's best you remain stationary for the time being until I am able to assess your pain tolerance properly, then I will move you to your quarters."

Macaque didn't say anything, just huffed in reply and seemed to relax. Syntax wondered if he was thankful he wouldn't have to move immediately this time, and he could have sworn he heard something... rumbling.

Maybe it was the machinery behind them.

He felt Macaque's tail hit his side after a while, thumping softly against him... but he didn't push it away.

He wondered if this would change anything at all.

~

Syntax saw more of Macaque than usual after that. Sometimes he would wander into his lab and just... stay there. Silent as the shadows he liked to hide in. Sometimes he would just watch him work, other times he would bring him plums or mangoes. Syntax never had much of a taste for fruit, not really enjoying any form of sweets, but he would not pass up free food when his stomach rumbled in protest from his long hours. One time Macaque had brought in a book, sat on his desk, and just read it.

That was bizarre, even for him. But Syntax found he didn't exactly mind the company. It was quite... lonely in the lab. He was the only human in the Spider Queen's entourage and her other two companions weren't exactly the best company. Oh, the big guy was nice and all and Syntax even enjoyed his presence well enough. But he would grow bored of the scientist's techno babble and science talk eventually and leave with a nod and a wave goodbye. He was grateful that he seemed to listen, however, even if he wasn't interested in the specifics.

The other one, however, was a pain in his ass. Constantly one upping him, trying to belittle him for being a human, just being an all around annoyance. He tried to act cool and suave but Syntax just found him obnoxious.

Macaque... Macaque stayed, listened even if Syntax ran out of things to talk about. And it was oddly nice. He felt himself growing excited for when the part-spider part-monkey would make his presence known.

He wondered, distantly... if Macaque was starting to mean something to him. To matter, in a way.

~

The day of the final treatment eventually arrived and Syntax actually dreaded what might happen. This was their last shot to make this work completely, there was a greater than 0% chance that this would cause irreparable damage to the monkey demon if they had to continue farther. But it seemed his worries were unfounded. He was smart, a genius even. He had done his job properly, even if it had taken far too long and was the least beneficial way to accomplish the goal.

Macaque screamed worse than with every other treatment, and understandably do. It would have shocked him if Macaque hadn't since he was growing two new arms.

The Spider Queen had taken her leave shortly after, disgusted by the sight before her. It was Syntax's job to watch as Macaque slowly changed before him, bones and muscle and sinew growing slowly and bit by until finally... finally it was finished.

They had learned from last time, placing a cot on the ground for him to sit on while this happened, and he collapsed onto his back. Two new arms limp against the floor as he shook and twitched and cried cold tears in agony. But it was finished.

Syntax couldn't stop himself. He rushed forward, kneeling beside Macaque's head, watching his eyes and expression for recognition and any sign that he was alright. It had only been two weeks since the last treatment, the time needed for him to recuperate, but in that short time... he had grown oddly fond of the man on the cot. He did not know what he felt for him, not yet, but he knew that he did not dislike him in the slightest.

"Ma-Macaque?" He asked softly after no response for nearly 15 minutes, waiting and watching and finally Macaque's eyes turned to him. "How do you feel?"

Macaque didn't say anything to him at first. Just blinked before a weak chuckle resounded from his throat.

"Whole."

~

The transformation was a mistake. Syntax had never felt guilt for any of his scientific achievement before, and he did not feel guilt for helping the Spider Queen in her endeavor, bit this? This he felt guilt for.

Macaque was in pain. Constantly. Sometimes it was just a dull ache, other times he almost collapsed as something moved the way it shouldn't and he had to bite back a scream. But there was no taking it back now and Macaque reveled in "feeling whole" again.

Syntax felt a mix of awe and wonder whenever he looked at the demon. He was... handsome, the purples and blacks and silvers of his fur blending together properly now. His eyes brilliant gold and green. And when he wasn't in pain his smile was nice, soft even if he could call it that. He was unsure of how much of it was true, he knew the Six-Eared Macaque to be a trickster. But he hoped some of it was, at least when directed at him.

But when he was in pain his face twisted in a way that made Syntax sick to his stomach to see it each time the agony rang true on his face. But Macaque brushed it off, not seeming to pay it much mind. Not when he had his eyes and arms "back".

The Spider Queen agreed with him, he could tell, but probably not for the same reasons. She seemed frightened of him. Goliath and Huntsman were just scared of him too. They avoided him like he would kill them on sight.

Syntax, despite his guilt, welcomes his presence still. He was not frightened of Macaque in the least. No, he just felt guilt that he was in pain. And he would never not want to help him through that now. The spider monkie had grown attached to him, almost a constant companion at his side. And he had grown fond of him as well.

He learned that Macaque had a flair for the theater. He made shadow puppets when the Spider Queen wasn't watching, though for what purpose and what audience Syntax had not asked. He liked to watch Syntax work, and eventually as he started to rest his head on the human's shoulder he learned the rumbling from the second to last treatment was a purr. He didn't know demons could purr, let alone to speed up recovery from injuries.

But the day of the Lunar New Year was coming and Syntax could tell he had something else... someone else on his mind.

~

The next day was to be the day. Syntax's last chance to get the new formula and tech right. It almost felt like a repeat of the past treatments but with less screaming. He was worried.

Macaque wasn't, however. He had never been worried, assuring the Spider Queen (sometimes through growls and bared teeth) that it would be done in time. He'd been a success after all. (Syntax said nothing each time.)

They'd never been this close before, but Macaque had eventually dragged the scientist away from his computer for rest. Taken him to his room, sat on the bed with him, and just. Held him. Purring loud and deep and eventually Syntax was lulled into slumber sitting up against the soft-coarse fur of Macaque.

He realized that Macaque mattered to him more than he cared to admit.

~

Syntax had failed. His formula and tech hadn't worked. They only had one shot left, and there was no time for him to fix his mistakes before the end of the celebration. Macaque had been in too much pain, on the other side of the room, to tell Spider Queen off this time. It was all over...

Until she came. The young woman in white and blue. She'd done something, added an ingredient he had not been able to calculate for, and then...

"Let's give it a spin," Spider Queen had said with a smirk as she turned toward her human scientist... her human guinea pig.

"Wait, no!" Syntax backed up, knowing that it was almost pointless to attempt escape. There was nowhere to run. "I helped you! You need me! Maca-AGH!"

Before the spider monkie could rush to his side the little spider drone had jumped on Syntax, adhering itself to his face before he fell backward over some machinery. It crawled around him, situating itself on his back and digging in it's injectors and

pain agony pain pain something came out of his back pain another painpainhescreamedandscreamed ANOTHER AGONYISTHISWHATMACAQUEFELTPAIN one more

And then it was over. Syntax felt... nothing. No pain. No agony.

No... guilt.

He stood straight, facing forward before kneeling. He knew what he had to do.

"My queen."

Yes. His queen. The Spider Queen.

She was the only one who mattered to him.

He heard his name spoken from the other side of the room but paid it no mind. That voice didn't matter to him.

That wasn't the voice of his queen.

~

"Syntax?" Macaque called, unable to stand from his spot as his arms throbbed in ghost pain. He had tried to stand before, when the drone had lunged at him, but the pain shot through him for a split second and send him to his knees too quickly.

His screams... his screams made his ears pull back not from the pain of the volume but from fear and something else.

Then Syntax stopped screaming and stood and knelt before the Queen.

"Syntax!"

... he never responded.

Macaque wondered if this is what guilt felt like.