#through gritted teeth i am. SO LAID BACK. and SO SILLY.

[moe-broey]

It's not a direct one-to-one since Moe is firmly on the side of The Power of Friendship, but I do think it has the exact energy as The Devil from The Bible (Shadow fandub) when pressed a little too much and a mask slips

[tickletastic]

Drink or Dare

Fandom: The Inheritance Games

Ship: N/A

Summary: Takes place during the game of Drink or Dare played in the treehouse in The Brothers Hawthorne. My take on how they managed to get a smiley face on Grayson's tummy during the game.

“No,” Grayson grits through clenched teeth, but his brothers can see the glint in his eyes, he's nervous.  “Absolutely not.”

Drink or Dare had always been a bit embarrassing, a bit vulnerable and silly. It’s an even playing ground for the Hawthorne boys, a way for them to get some semblance of real vulnerability from each other. So far, the dares hadn’t been too bad, at least not on Grayson’s end, but he figured his brothers were working their way up, there’s no way they’d go easy on him the entire time. 

After Xander was made to create a Rube Goldberg machine just to slap his own ass, and Nash chose to eat a piece of his cowboy hat instead of drinking the toxic slurry the brothers had made as the alternative option, Grayson figured the embarrassment and silliness would soon target him. His brothers were here to take his mind off of things after all, and Hawthornes have always been partial to believing that embarrassment could be a great distractor. 

“You know the game, little brother,” Nash says in his smooth, Texan timbre. How he’s the only Hawthorne brother with the signature Southern drawl is beyond Grayson, but the authority in his voice still sends a shiver down his spine, and the way his laid back demeanor lends itself to teasing his brothers.

“This is juvenile,” Grayson shirks, avoiding eye contact with all of his brothers, glancing shiftily around the treehouse. 

“I’d expect nothing more from a Hawthorne Drink or Dare,” Jameson remarks, signature lazy smirk on his face. He keeps capping and uncapping the Sharpie, the click-click-click working up Grayson’s nerves.

“Okay Mr. Broody McBrooderson, we’ve known that you’re crazy ticklish since, like, birth, basically. So why don’t you just let us draw you a new face? That, or my newest Hawthorne patented concoction is all yours to savour.” Xander buzzes, reaching out to poke Grayson in the side, to which he recoils so violently that he practically ends up in Nash’s lap. Nash offers Grayson no favours, and he digs into his younger brother’s ribs with two clawed hands. 

“Nash! No! Nahahash, stop it!” Grayson yells, trying to keep his normal edge of authority in his voice, his cool demeanor cracks with every knowing wiggle to his sensitive ribs. He starts to squirm away, nearly a mess already from Nash’s short row, and Xander, adding his teasing fingers to the mix, gets him begging embarrassingly quick. “Fuhuck! Okay! Ohohokay!”

“Begging for mercy already, little brother?” Nash teases, withdrawing his fingers from Grayson’s ribs and ruffling his brother's hair. Grayson huffs out of his nose and shakes his head out of Nash’s grip, batting away Xander’s lingering fingers.

“What will it be, Gray?” Jameson asks, grinning from across their makeshift circle. 

Grayson glares in Jameson’s direction, and sneaks a look at the grotesque mixture he can choose to drink as an alternative to his brothers’ silly dare. The “liquid” is a strange, mildewy colour, a terrible concoction of ketchup, A1 sauce, hot sauce, milk, and lemonade. It bubbles and curdles at the top, unendingly since Xander added the final ingredients to it more than an hour prior, and it’s enough to convince Grayson that maybe, just maybe, the dare would be more bearable. 

“Fine, but this is still a childish dare,” Grayson gripes while he begins unbuttoning his silky white dress shirt, revealing the white tank top beneath it. He grimaces at the feeling of cold air over his torso as he strips the tank top too. 

“Lay down,” Jameson demands, smirking at his brother, reaching out to grab the Sharpie he had placed on the floor. He’s on his knees quick, approaching the other side of the circle to kneel above Grayson. 

“Am I gonna have to hold ya down, Gray?” Nash asks, looming over Grayson with a far too pleased look on his face.

“I’m not five, Nash, I can stay still for a stupid dare.” 

“Something tells me that you’re going to regret that attitude,” Nash teases, kneeling at his brother’s side in case Jameson needs some help finishing the job.

“Alright, Gray,” Xander starts with a smile, a face of pure glee at the possibility of seeing his brother laugh for once, “this might tickle.”

Jameson uncaps the Sharpie, and brings it down slowly to Grayson’s skin, the anticipation making his older brother squirm. When the tip finally touches down on Grayson’s belly, he gasps, and curls completely into a ball, pushing the Sharpie away.

“Grayson, bud, I know you can do better than that sorry excuse for staying still.”

Grayson blushes bright red, and he hates that the embarrassment of it makes him blush even more. Its mortifying. He brings his hands up to cover his face, groaning in a rare display of vocal frustration.

Jameson takes this as the opportunity that it is and brings the marker down again to work on the eye of the smiley face he’s drawing. 

Grayson screeches, hands thrown down to protect him from the tickly, wet ink of the permanent marker, and Jameson levels him with a bored look. The reversed roles, Grayson acting out and Jameson responding with a bored indignation, flusters Grayson even more. He’s trying to get ahold of his expressions again when Nash grabs both of Grayson’s wrists in one of his hands, hauling them above his head.

“I warned ya, Gray,” Nash teases, nodding at Jameson to continue. 

Jameson tries to finish the first straight line he had started for the smiley face’s eye, dragging the Sharpie from under Grayson’s pec to the bottom of his ribs, but his older brother’s squirming, and the huffy, aborted giggles he’s letting out, distract from the attempted masterpiece. Grayson even starts bringing his legs up in an attempt to block his brother from continuing. 

“Xan, some help, please?” Jameson asks with a mischievous wink. Xander nods like an excited puppy before climbing on top of their brother’s legs, effectively pinning him so Jameson can have unrestricted access. 

“Wait! I’ll drink,” Grayson tries to reason, while Xander makes finger wiggling motions in his direction, making him dizzy with restrained laughter and anticipation. 

“No can do, Gray,” Jameson snorts, “you already chose your fate.”

“Them’s the rules!” Xander exclaims. 

This time, when Jameson’s marker makes its inevitable descent, there’s nothing Grayson can do but accept the giggles that are pouring out of him, the thought of the tickly feeling making him giddy even before the marker can touch down. When it finally does, Grayson snorts, throwing his head back into Nash’s knees, a smile creeping up that threatens to split his face.

Jameson is able to finish the first eye this time, despite Grayson’s wigglyness, and he gets halfway through the second when Grayson squeals, the Sharpie hitting a sensitive spot on his ribs. Jameson, always the troublemaker, presses down with the marker, wiggling it around in the same spot, going over the first half of the second eye again and again. 

“Ja-Jahahamie! Mercy, plehehease!” Grayson screeches, pulling desperately at his arms in hopes that Nash will show him some mercy. He’s been tickled absolutely silly by his brothers many times before, but something about this time is so flustering. Maybe it’s because it isn’t really supposed to tickle, or because he’s trained himself to be completely serious all of the time, or maybe even the stress with Gigi and Savannah. Whatever it is, it makes the Sharpie tickle a hundred times more.

“It’s a wonder you’re this ticklish and alive, Gray,” Nash teases, but he can’t help his own smile at his normally serious brother giggling himself silly. 

Grayson’s blush sits high on his cheeks, creeping up his ears, but there’s nothing he can do but take the silly torture. His giggles are high-pitched and bubbly, forcing out a playfulness he hasn’t experienced in ages. 

“JAMEHESON!” Grayson shouts, snorting through his laughter when Jameson begins to use the canvas of Grayson’s tummy as the location of the smiley face’s mouth. The repeated back and forth motion sends Grayson into a flurry of snorts and squeals, only egged on by Jameson deciding that the face should have a tongue exactly where Grayson’s belly button is. 

While Jameson fills in the tongue he drew with the marker, Grayson screams so shrill and panicked that it shocks him into stopping. When Grayson keeps squealing and shrieking, tears of mirth in the corners of his eyes, Jameson grins down at him, lopsided. “Gray, I’m not even doing anything.”

“Oh,” Xander says, and Nash and Jameson both look his way, “that might be my bad.” Xander’s fingers are going to town on Grayson’s socked feet, and Grayson is laughing so hard that it’s coming out in wheezes, hiccuping for breath.

“Pl-p-puhuhlehehease! Cahahan’t! Gohohonna die!” Grayson begs, too weak to wiggle or pull for escape.

Just before Jameson can bring the marker back down to Grayson’s tummy, Nash’s voice, in his designated Big Brother Tone, cuts through the air, “alright, alright, kid’s had enough.” 

Jameson snickers, and Xander makes a vaguely disappointed noise before backing off of Grayson. Once he’s free, he curls up into a ball, stray giggles and wheezes leaving him breathless still. Nash can’t help but reach out to ruffle his little brother’s hair again.

“Thahat was hehell,” Grayson sputters, but the smile on his face has yet to go away.

“Could’ve been worse,” Xander says, “it could’ve been a Rube Goldberg machine to slap your own ass.”

[thesharkwhalewhoohooooo]

Bridget x fem!oc

"Hi!" Jennie squeaked out, her hand tightening around Bridgets as they watched Uliana grab their bags and rummage through them, giving Jennie's to Hook to dump onto the ground for cash.

"Hello to you little mouse, how is your friend piggy going?" Bridget stared wide eyed, and Jennie couldn't so much more than wrap her arms around her arm and clutch it to her chest.

"I have no cash! Please don't dump it out...." She trialed off, her eyes trialing down to the ground where the little box laid just under a few papers.

"No!" The hook that replaced James' hand almost hooked into her skin, but she managed to snatch the box and stuff it into her skirt, sitting crouched after rolling to soften her fall.

Dashing back over to Bridget, who stepped back and shielded her, glancing over her shoulder at the two, Hook smirking as he held his hook up to point at Jennie.

"And what might that be eh? Some valuables?" His shark-like eyes followed Jennie as she squeaked and hid her head into Bridget's shoulder, who wrapped her arms around her tighter.

"Stop it Hook, don't let the faggot get too close." Uliana grinned, holding the cash she found in the bags, signalling for him to follow her out of the courtyard.

"Are you okay?" Bridget looked down at Jennie, who looked back wide eyed.

"I should be asking you that, are you alright? I'm sorry I can't protect you-."

"Don't even try it sweets, you're my baby." The princess hugged her tightly, kissing her forehead softly.

"Y-yeah...." Honestly, the blonde couldn't care less about whatever she just said, the box was burning in her pocket as her senses got overwhelmed by Bridget.

"Hey guys, what's up." Ella walked up to them, arching a brow at the leather bag and its contents laying splattered on the ground, Bridget's laying next to it.

"The sky, silly!" Bridget giggled, detaching herself from Jennie to hold onto Ella's hands.

"Nothing much, I'm just gonna- yeah." The girl looked down at her bag, then back at her two friends, who were already wrapped up in talking to each other, and crouched down to get the two bags together again.

"Oh! Thanks Jennie! You're such a sweetheart!" She kissed her cheek, hugging her briefly before she and Ella went away, probably to go do homework in Bridget's dorm.

"I- am." She looked down at her back, shuffling her mary janes closer to each other nervously, the pink rimmed socks seemed so silly now, why would she even think pink would look good on her, she should try Blue, Bridget likes Blue too right? I mean she loves pink but she didn't even blink at her clothes today so-

Jennie shook her head, that was ridiculous, she should change out of these stupid pink things now, why did she spend money on that stupid blouse and skirt.

-

A week later, it was blue, she had found a good light blue vest in the back of her closet, matched with a white skirt and blue socks, her leather mary janes shining in the sunlight once she stepped out, the dark blue ribbon tied around her neck neatly turned into a bow.

"Hi Bridget!" Her wave slowed down as she watched Ella throw an insult to Uliana, guiding Bridget away from them.

She followed them with her eyes, clutching her briefcase, desperately trying to lock eyes with Bridget, her princess.

Her gritted teeth didn't stop her from fleeing once she realised Uliana wasn't distracted anymore, her shoes clicked through the marble halls, rushing to her class, she'll change back during break.

-

"Bridget!" Jennie smiled, her best smile, the only smile she'd ever show Bridget, the others are too ugly, too much teeth, too wide, why would you scrunch your nose? Only Bridget does that right.

"Sweets! Have you met the new transfers?" Jennie had to force herself not to pull a face when she saw they touched her Bridget, she's not yours, shut up.

"I hadn't! How nice to meet other transfers!" Transfer back.

"You transferred too?" The redhead tilted her head, Jennie had to force herself to smile Bridget's smile at them, why would she waste that on some rando's.

"Yeah, I came from Wonderland a bit after Bridget!" The princess in question giggled, grabbing her hand with a smile.

"You missed me so much it's adorable!" Jennie wanted to glare at everyone around her when Bridget hugged her, but at the same time gloat about her kissing her cheek.

"I did...." She 'bashfully' looked down, blushing, more from Bridget being close than actual embarrassment, why would she be embarrassed about the truth? She missed Bridget so much she was going crazy.

"I'm Chloe! You?" Right, the other things.

"I'm Jennie! And who might you be?" Red had been staring with wide eyes for most of the time since she recognised the girl, who had been locked away in the dungeons since forever, looking like she had only been there for a few minutes, and completely crazy.

"Uh- yeah, I'm Red." Why would Bridget ever talk to someone that looked like that.

-

"Jennie?" Why does Ella feel like talking to her, doesn't Bridget give her enough attention for two? Three? Possibly the whole school?

"What's wrong?" I would never say the name of such a dirty obstacle, why would Bridget talk to something like that? So dirty....

"Could you go check up on Bridget for me please? I can't get to her today but she said she isn't feeling too well." Bridget isn't doing well and she told that?! Why would she ever tell her?! Why do I have to hear about it from the cinder girl?

"Of course I will! No worries, I'll go over there with some soup!" She smiled at Ella, who grinned back before leaving her alone to ponder.

"Why would Bridget tell that thing and not me?" She muttered, her pencil digging into her notebook, the point snapping off and flying up a bit, not noticing the two transfers behind her.

Red glanced over at Chloe, who was staring wide eyed at the blonde girl, who was scribbling harshly into her notebook with the left over pencil.

They quickly shook it off when she stood up, stuffing her stuff into her briefcase and turning around to walk away, her blue eyes widening when she noticed them.

She quickly composed herself, standing straight and frowning at them, she didn't feel like trying for some transfers that Bridget barely talks to.

"What." Chloe stepped back a bit, Jennie arching a brow, grimacing slightly.

"Nothing- just wanted to ask you something about Uliana and her gang." Jennie scoffed, leaning back on the table as she stared at the two, unimpressed.

"Is this about the flamingo thing? That was me, I'll deal with it." Red shot Chloe a glare, screaming 'told you so'.

"Right... well they're planning on pranking Bridget back, it won't be very pretty." The switch up was crazy, Jennie's uninterested picking at her nails turned into her rushing off, presumably to Bridget.

-

"Bridget? I got you some soup, heard you weren't doing well!" Jennie smiled, opening the door to her dorm, holding the plate with the soup in one hand and looking over at the sick princess.

"Ella?" The pink haired girl looked up weakly, tilting her head, the cloud of curls moving to cover one side of the pillow.

"No." Fuck! Too cold!

"Oh, I was kinda expecting her to stop by..." Why did she sound so disappointed? Is this why she didn't tell me? Does she like Ella or something?!

"Can I tell you something?" Bridget coughed out once Jennie had helped her sit up, now assisting her in eating her soup, sitting next to her on the bed.

"Mhm, always my princess." The box was burning through her skin, she should just give it to her already, if she kept pushing it back it'll be too late!

"I think I like Ella." Too late.

-

"I'm in here for a reason Red. Now go." The icy glare send her way almost made the 10-year old scream for the guards, but she refrained, inspecting the woman who hadn't changed at all since she'd discovered her.

"Why are you here?"

"Who is your father." Red looked down, and Jennie bit back a smirk, she was living proof someone touched her Bridget, she'll figure it out, she'll be let out soon enough.

"Mom doesn't talk about you-," her eyes widened, " -Who are you?" The woman had fallen silent, her white hair seemed to brighten her skin even more, which already stood out against the black stone.

"I am...." She seemed to think about it, not daring to look away, staring the princess down, her fingers tracing over the folds in her skirt.

"I'm the Queen's, nothing else." Red slowly tilted her head, weird.

-

That soon, happened to be, very soon.

Because now, Jennie was kneeling before the Queen of Hearts, holding her hand to her lips and kissing it softly, staring up at her.

"My Queen." The Queen smirked, pulling her hand back and gesturing for Red to come closer.

"Do you see her, Red? You'll have to find someone like this when you become queen, someone who'll fight for you." The princess slowly nodded, still staring at the bloodied ground of the village that had resisted, and the blood that Jennie had furiously scrubbed at on her face, which had turned into the only scratch she had, in an attempt to get the blood off of her face she just shaved off a bit of her skin.

"Who'll die for you." Red could only watch with wide eyes as her mother held out her hand, the bloodied sword Jennie held got wiped clean on her own palm before she even let it touch the Queen's skin, and she softly placed it down.

"The blood of the grass and ground of the deepest hells can't go up against the comparison of the sun and moon, my love can't touch but won't diminish, won't lessen but can't broaden." The Queen patted her head, tilting it up by her chin.

"Good job sweets." It pained Red to watch Jennie's eyes light up, staring at her mother as if nothing else mattered, which, knowing her, it probably didn't.

"Anything for my queen."

-

"Red! My daughter!" Bridget smiled as she approached her daughter at the ceremony, wrapping her arms around the stiffened girl, who watched with wide eyes as Jennie stalked closer, eyes narrowed and zeroed in on her as if she knew something.

"Where were you?" Her suspicions were waved off by Bridget, who happily giggled and dragged Red away and to her new dorm, which she would be sharing with Chloe.

"Jennie!" Ella called out to the woman, who ignored her, and was planning on walking straight past her, if it wasn't for Bridget stopping and smiling brightly at the fellow queen.

"Our daughters will be sharing a dorm! How exciting is this?!" The way Jennie forced herself to look Ella in the eye gave away her excitement.

"Yes, another Charming." She spat out, Bridget slapping her arm.

"Gods, what happened for you to hate them so!" Jennie couldn't help but smile at her, moving to grab onto her hand, but she had already moved on to grasp Ella's.

“You just have to join us for dinner! It’ll be so fun! We’ll have one final dinner with our families before our daughters leave the nest!” The blonde staggered in her movements when Bridget hadn’t grabbed her hands, but quickly started up again to stand beside the queen with crossed arms.

“Yeah, with the family.” She rolled her eyes, and Bridget sighed, turning and finally grabbing her hands, looking in her eyes.

“Would you mind going back to wonderland to take care of the duties for today? I swear I don’t want you to-!” Jennie had tuned her out, staring blankly at her face.

First I have to share attention with some kid, and after a lifetime of devotion this is what I get? She should be mine, mine to love, mine to cherish, mine to keep, why does she keep teasing me, I just want her to be mine.

Why doesn’t she want to be mine?

[friendship-ditch]

Whumptober Day 25 - Stitches

Platonic Faramir x Fem!Reader ✼

Summary: Faramir is terrified of getting stitches, but also too stubborn to admit it.

Warnings/Notes: Wound stitching? None, really

Word Count: 1139

  “They say you vanquished the enemy, almost single handedly.” You poked your head into the room where Faramir lay on the bed. His eyes were closed but fluttered open as you stepped into the wound.

  He’d been rushed to the Houses of Healing after a particularly nasty skirmish against orcs left him with a deep wound down his side. The other medics had quelled the bleeding enough to a non-fatal point but it would need stitches, which you were sent to finish up.

  “They lie.” Faramir chuckled weakly. He tried to sit up but the movement sent a wave of pain through his body so he fell back down. His fingers fidgeted with the blanket. “I was taken down moments after the battle started.”

  “Boromir says differently.” You went over to the medical supplies left in the room, plucking a needle from the mix and some thread. “He’s been going around telling everyone how fine of a job you did.”

  “He likes to boast on my behalf.” A forced grin spread across Faramir’s lips. He paled slightly upon catching sight of the needle held between your fingers but forced it down. “I could mop the floors and he’d claim I painted the whole room.”

  You laughed at that, getting a mix of other supplies; a bowl of warm water, a rag, and some bandages too. “I suppose the next time your name is floating around I’ll have to go to the source rather than the source's brother.”

  “That would do you well.” Faramir nodded. He watched you get set up for  a moment, then cleared his throat. “Is… are stitches still necessary?”

  “If one calls them to be, it's not likely to change.” You pulled a stool up and sat beside him. Carefully you nudged his tunic up, revealing the long bandage that ran down his side. “Especially if it was as deep as I heard.”

  “They exaggerate…” Faramir grits through his teeth as you remove the bandage. He looks down at the wound and frowns.

  The teeth of the orcish blade wasted no time in slicing his side deeply. A few drops of blood splattered out at the loss of the pressure. It would definitely need stitches.

  Faramir read the expression on your face and let his head flop back onto the pillow with a heavy sigh. “I’m not fond of needles.” He admitted quietly. 

  “I’d have to recommend not looking, then.” You gave him a reassuring smile. “I know it’s not an enjoyable process… This is a rather tender spot. Do you want something to bite? I could get some pain numbing medicine…”

  Furrowing his eyebrows, Faramir hesitated. Then shook his head. He was a man of Gondor, a Captain, a descendant of Numenor! He could handle some stitches into a rather… tender part of his body.

  “Don’t fret about that. Let’s just get this over with.” Faramir insisted. 

  You just nodded and settled down to work.

  Faramir laid anxiously beside you. His fingers twisted together, coated in a light layer of nervous sweat as he eyed the thread you slipped through the needle. He tried his best to stay still as you approached, but as you held the needle tip flush against his skin he flinched.

  “Perhaps it would be best if we got you some medicine.” You spoke gently. Though at this a look of horror crossed the man's face. Your frown deepened. “There is no weakness in choosing the easier path.”

  He wanted to believe you, he really did. But he couldn’t give in that easily. Boromir wouldn’t. His brother wouldn’t need medicine for something as silly as a little cut.

  “I am fine.”

  “Then stop moving.”

  Faramir fell silent. He gulped and furrowed his fingers into the sheets, then closed his eyes tight.

  You began sewing his wound, just beginning the first stitch. After the needle pierced his skin and pulled through the other side, Faramir let out a pathetic whimper of pain. You continued stitching the wound shut. You would gladly stop if he asked but if he was going to play stubborn, so were you.

  The pain was excruciating. The needle continued to pierce and tug his raw, tender flesh, sending flashes of pain through Faramir’s body that hurt even stronger than the wound. And it was continuous. Every second of rest was followed by 5 more of pain.

  His knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping the blankets beneath him, teeth gritted as he tried to hold back the majority of his noises. His skin was a ghostly pale shade and he felt like he was either going to be sick or pass out.

  Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore and spoke up.

  “Stop…”

  You stopped immediately, still holding the needle tight but no longer piercing his skin. Your expression softened at the pure agony on his face and you gently tilted his head to the side just in case.

  “Let me find some pain medicine.” You murmured and this time he did not fight.

  You managed to find some herbs and gave them to him, also giving him a glass of water to swallow it down with. It was only then that you noticed the faint tear streaks down his face. He had one hand clenched over his racing heart as though willing it to slow.

  “The medicine will numb the pain and fear.” You assured him gently, just sitting on the edge of the bed now. You didn’t want to continue stitching until he’d relaxed and couldn’t feel it anymore. “I shouldn’t… have to take this.” The paleness of Faramir’s skin was starting to fade but he still looked uneasy. He took a deep, shaky breath and opened his eyes. There was a sincere, desperate look in them, one begging you to never speak of this to anyone. And at the questioning look in your gaze, he lowered his and finally spoke. “I had stitches one other time… as a child. My father wouldn’t let me have any medicine… or anything… He declared I had to “be a real man” and held me down.”

  The memory fell bitterly off his tongue and your soft smile turned downwards. You gripped his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I am not your father. That does not and will not happen here.”

  Faramir looks at you uncertainly, but at the passion in your eyes he slowly nods and relaxes. The medicine is beginning to kick in, his head starting to grow foggy and quiet down. He weakly reaches and grabs your arm in return. “…I trust you.”

  “Good.” You smiled gently at him. “Are you ready for me to continue? I can still get you something to bite if you want.”

  Shaking his head, Faramir settled back down and closed his eyes. “No… I think I’ll be alright.”

[fairy-writes]

then how about this: Akaza with a demon that's actually from hell and not from accepting Muzan's blood?

MAKE A DEAL

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Demon Slayer

Pairing(s): Akaza x Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Demon!Reader

Notes: thanking everyone EXTENSIVELY for helping me with this idea!

__________________________________________________________________________

Akaza didn’t dream. 

Not really, at least. 

It wasn’t like he needed sleep. Demons didn’t require rest to function, but when you couldn’t go out during the day, sleep became a close friend.

So when he opens his eyes in his dreamscape, he is more than a little confused. 

Especially when he spots you. You were sitting with one leg crossed over the other on a log and watching him with eyes that, frankly, made him a bit nervous. They were yellow, a luminescent golden iris surrounded by an inky black sclera. The color was accentuated by what you were wearing—a pristine, white, knee-length, toga-like outfit. 

Something ancient from a bygone age. 

Long forgotten.

Just who were you?

Out of the blue, you said a name. 

Your name? 

He sat up (When had he been lying down? He never laid down. He always slept with his back against a wall.), taking in his surroundings. He was in a forest with massive pine trees surrounding him on all sides, with a small creek burbling and splitting the ground between you two. 

“Who are you?” He asks, and you simply smile at him, showing off pointed teeth that are too straight. Too white. Too unnatural.

“I already told you, silly.” You reply in jest, and he scowls. 

He already wants you to leave. 

You pout and stand, adjusting the hem of your toga and then your sandals before hopping down off the log.

“Fine then.” You huff and make to walk away into the woods when Akaza realizes something. 

“Are you reading my mind?” He asks, and you stop, looking over your shoulder to watch him with those glowing yellow eyes. 

“And if I am?” You ask, and he clenches his fists.

“Stop it.” Is all he says. 

At that, you shrug and go to take another step.

“Oh well. I was looking forward to a lovely conversation with the infamous Upper-Rank Three. But I suppose I can go talk to Upper Two. He’s usually asleep about this time.” You muse, and Akaza feels a jolt of rage shoot through him. 

Douma? 

“Why would you talk to that scum?” He snarls, and you turn around, eyebrow raised, and head cocked to the side. 

“Because I am looking for conversation. But you seem to have the conversation skills of a toddler. Telling me to “stop it” like a three-year-old.” You reply, tone teasing but surprisingly not upset. You sounded delighted that he was even talking to you.

Why?

But your comment has him gritting his teeth. 

Something about you irritates him. 

But… against his better judgment… he sits down on a rock when you gesture for him to do so. You sit back on the log, crossing one leg delicately over the other, and study him as if you were a bird studying prey. 

He hated feeling like this—like he was in the presence of someone more powerful than he. 

“So? What do you want?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes narrow briefly, and then you roll them,

“To make a friend? See what it’s like being one of Kibustuji Muzan’s subjects? All of the above?” You say, and he freezes at the name of his master. 

Surely, you were a demon like him. 

How were you able to say his name so freely?

He waits for the screaming. 

The tearing apart of your body. 

The blood. 

Everything that comes with saying his name. 

But no such thing happens. 

You watch him with a curious sort of expression, and then a thought occurs to you. 

“You think I’m one of his?” You gape, and when he nods silently, you begin to laugh. 

And laugh.

And laugh.

It’s the type of laugh that shakes your whole body. The kind of laugh that makes it hard to breathe. A whole-body experience that goes on seemingly forever. You gasp and wheeze as you hunch over to wrap your arms around your stomach. Somewhere in the back of Akaza’s mind, he’s worried about you falling off the log and indecently exposing yourself. 

Eventually, you get your snickering under control, wiping tears from your eyes as you stifle more giggles. 

“That is simply a preposterous thought! To think I’d be lumped in with the same league as Muzan?! Ha! I’m much more powerful than he is!” You sneer, and Akaza has to stop himself from staring in astonishment. 

More powerful than his master? 

Was such a thing possible?

You seemingly read his mind (yet again) and answer before he has the chance to articulate his thoughts. 

“There are other ways to become a demon, you know. I’m living proof of that. Much more efficient, too. I can go out in the sunlight and everything!” You say, and Akaza is reeling.

Another way to become a demon? 

Just how—

“You just have to make a deal with me.” You interrupt his thoughts with that grin that makes him uneasy. Something about you seems off… Something he can’t quite place. But… he asks something on his mind.

“What sort of deal?” At that, your grin widens almost impossibly so, and you extend a hand. 

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?” You say, and against his better judgment, Akaza takes your hand in his and shakes it. 

Only to watch your eyes darken until the inky blackness swallows him whole. 

“Perfect.” 

[inkybloom-luv]

Scandalous lion

@leonistic this is on you and your silly social media scandal sjahbsbsbs enjoy <3

Don't even care if it's ooc, which is a slay

756 words

♪~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♪

Idle but uptight chatter filled the room. Tonight was, for better or worse, a political dinner that Leona was somewhat forced to attend. Only somewhat because it was indeed his partner, Soru, who had made him go. They were, in fact, convinced this dinner would help with the economy around one of the borders of the Sunset Savannah. At least he was in attendance along with Leona, seated next to him too, so the oversized housecat would actually stay for the dinner. The adults were making important conversations when that nobleman's daughter, who was also in attendance, spoke right up to talk to Leona, out of boredom or whatever her motives were.

"So you're the second prince? You're hardly seen anywhere I thought you'd be slightly deformed or something like that.", she said, twisting her hair around her finger before continuing to speak "But you sir seem to be the opposite, you look quite good."

"Thank you. Your choice of dress is.. pleasant" Leona responded, rather reluctantly but politely. It was a woman speaking to him and he did receive a compliment. Though he usually did not care much for manners, tonight had to work. Why was he so set on it working out? Soru said they'd be his pillow for an entire day. For that, he'd even attend classes for a day.

They continued to eat, though most of the conversation making was left to Soru, simply because the young lady their age seemed to be trying to make moves on Leona. He didn't appreciate them, neither of them did. It wasn't like they were officially dating in the public eye, Leona just really didn't want to deal with that mess yet. Though whatever was happening now sure didn't help, since the flirting between the guest's daughter and him was not a mutual thing. Through sheer coincidence and perhaps foolish ideals on the noble's end of the line she kept saying all the wrong things, it was honestly quite embarrassing. Initially there was a press conference after this in a room adjacent to the dining hall they were using. The one they were in right now was larger to accommodate more people. He'd leave if the young lady continued, but that would leave Soru behind. In that moment, for whatever reason, be it a dust particle or someone, like ruggie, talking about Leona, he sneezed.

"I'd say king of beasts bless you, but I believe he's already done so." She said to him. "Listen, your highness, how about you and I take a walk together after dinner?" She asked, which he denied, but she didn't want to take that no for an answer it seemed.

Unfortunately that seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back. He got up wordlessly, picking up Soru and throwing them above his shoulder.

"I was trying to be polite and let your sad attempts at flirting slide but no means no and I am not interested. I already have a lovely partner with which I am leaving. Good. day." He said, clearly through gritted teeth and bared fangs, taking long, proud and quick strides that reeked of aggravation.

He didn't care that he would be walking through a room where the press was waiting, not even when he threw open the door and in a single moment of uncalculated and rash thoughts, took a mic and with a stern voice he spoke into it.

"Listen up, this here is my partner and I don't want to be with anyone but him..!"

Sweet as those words were he did get smacked in the back by a slightly raging Soru, who could not believe that he just did that in front of a live camera feed before running off. It was so out there that Soru even brought it up again in his bedroom right as he laid down on them with basically his whole weight. He groaned against her stomach in response.

"'m not taking any more of that crap. People who don't take no for an answer should get bent." He almost growled. Really all he wanted to do now was hide in his lover's arms and maybe he could do that. Just until both of them realised the giant media scandal that was building up now, thanks to Leona's rash actions. I mean, who'd have guessed that Leona Kingscholar of all people would suddenly show up with a lover, nevermind one that seemed to be nonexistent, seeing as there were hardly any records of them at all.

[a-sweeter-solarsystem]

I’ll be better than you.

ao3 may be down but I’m still gonna find ways to post my silly little writings >:(

Also managed to find the edited version that’s up on ao3 so I didn’t have to rely on my original draft!!  Horrah!! 

Side note that sign language is its own language!  Any sign language depicted in this work is written in plain english both because I find it difficult to convey all the emotions and gestures in sign language into written english, and I'm still learning the language myself and don't want to accidentally mistranslate anything   (；v；)

This work takes place during season of the haunted, shortly after the first attempt at severing his nightmare.

Crow's body felt heavy.  The past weeks had taken a toll on everyone.  Between the nightmares and the seemingly endless patrols on the leviathan, he felt almost like a spirit wandering aimlessly for its purpose.  Commander Zavala had finally convinced him to rest.  Cal as well.  Hell, with how busy Crow had been he couldn’t even fathom what sorts of things Cal had been doing.

Cal passed out first.  He had made himself comfortable hugging Crow's chest and resting his head over his heart.  Crow held him, welcoming the warmth of his partner, but he couldn't find the willpower to join him in resting.  His mind still stirred, strong emotions lingering.

He just wished he could sleep.  Even if just for a little while.

Irritation clouded Crow's thoughts the moment he heard Uldren's voice from somewhere nearby.  "Don't you ever worry about him?"

Don't you have anything better to do?

Crow kept the comment to himself, taking Eris' advice to ignore Uldren's torment.  The nightmare walked out from the wall to his bedside.  His former self smiled, scanning him and Cal as if looking for something to jab at.  Crow instinctively placed a hand on Cal's back.

"He's so weak.  And yet, oh so volatile.  A dangerous combination, if you ask me."

Crow's jaw clenched.  Uldren caught the gesture immediately, "Have you thought about what would happen if you lost him?"

"I'm not going to."

"And why is that?"  Uldren seemed to lean closer.  A twisted smile curling on the nightmare's lips, "Remembering what happened last time you lost someone?"

"That wasn’t…"  Crow snapped his head to look Uldren in the eye.  He corrected himself and spoke through gritted teeth, "I'm not you.  I won't make the same mistakes you did."

"You say that now...But you forget how close he's already come to true death.  One of these days-"

"ENOUGH!"

Crow shouted with his whole body.  He didn't notice he had pushed hard against Cal's chest, jolting the younger hunter awake.  Crow's focus remained on his nightmare, "Cal isn't going anywhere and neither am I!  You might've been too weak to move on but I’m not.  Stop trying to make me feel so alone."

A satisfied grin rested on Uldren's face.  It disgusted Crow.

"LEAVE!"

Uldren faded into the darkness.  Crow took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves.  As the room and its sensations returned to him, he looked down and froze.

Cal was watching him, wide eyed, and scared.  He was sat upright in front of him, tense and uneasy.  He seemed to be holding his breath.  Guilt pulled Crow's heart down to his gut.

"Cal I...I'm sorry I..."

Crow held up his hands defensively, but it made Cal flinch.  He lowered them, choosing instead to only draw one hand close to his chest to sign an apology.

Crow waited and watch Cal slowly unravel himself.  Hesitantly, Cal signed, "What was that?"

"Uldren"  Crow signed a reply.

Cal looked briefly back to where he had seen Crow shouting and back.  All that was there was the empty space of their bedroom.  Crow added, "It was nothing...He was just trying to annoy me."

Cal’s brows furrowed and his eyes seemed softer.  "What did he say?"

Crow laid back down, inviting Cal to do the same by shifting off to the side of the bed.  "The usual.  That I'm weak, that I killed people...he's very unoriginal"  Crow lied with a weak smile.

Cal seemed unconvinced.  His light green eyes studied Crow, watching his partner’s smile fade more and more.  "Are you okay?"

Crow took a long look at his partner.  He thought about Cal the first time they met.  He was so scared.  He looked starved, with dark circles of exhaustion and anxious glances every few seconds to see who was watching him.  He had seen Cal grow the past year.  Seen how much stronger he became.  He learned to control both the light and darkness within him, helped fight countless enemies, and even showed him a thing or two about being a guardian.

He thought about himself, of where he started.  Nameless at first, working for Spider and being treated like dirt.  Being saved by others time and time again because they chose to look beyond his face and see who he truly was.  He recalled the way Zavala used to look at him.  Then remembered how even through the uncertainty Zavala still offered him a hand.  That he still allowed him a place in the vanguard.  And with that trust, others learned to trust him as well. 

They, Cal and Crow, they were both forced to build themselves from the ground up.  They lied.  They fought.  They survived.  And they recovered.  Even though the memories of their pasts haunt them, they’re here now.  They’re alive.  And they are a million times better now than they were back then. 

"Yeah...I think so."

Cal finally joined him, keeping his nervous gaze on Crow’s hands in case there was anything else to say.  He wrapped an arm around Cal's shoulder, resting his cheek against Cal’s head.  No matter what Uldren said, he won't let it come between them.

[ihavenoideawhatthisblogis]

Untitled #3

word count: 2.0k

________________________________________________________________

Since we're not the only groups in the city anymore, part of our alliance requires us training together before we can face and get rid of the silly group of teenagers that's been taking people from us, gaining strength.

"So, you and Chan, huh?" says Changbin joining me behind one of the columns of the same building he approached me just yesterday.

"Is this your favorite spot or something?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "How come you're always here, and how do you get here so fast?"

I don't even point my gun at his head because it's not worth the effort. I know he won't try to hurt me physically. He only wants to tease me and get a few words out of me. So here we are, in the middle of a training mission, and he's distracting me.

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you," he shrugs.

"Oh, but we both know how easy it is for you to kill innocents," I say, dramatically placing a hand on my chest. He smiles.

"All this to avoid talking about you and Chan," he points out with his dismissive pout and shrug. "You know he and I used to be best friends when we were kids. He always had the biggest crush on you." He looks at me up and down. "I never really understood what he saw." He speaks slowly, and his gaze is burning my skin. I flinch, and look away. What the fuck was that?

"Funny how you ended up with my best friend, and I ended up with yours," I comment, moving to the next column.

"I’ve never fucked with Hyunjin tho," he counts back, following me.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," I say, trying not to look as uncomfortable as I am. I know I haven't fucked with Chan, but last night was so damn intimate we might as well have.

"So you don't deny it," he laughs. "Han seems clueless tho," he continues taking his gun out now that we hear gunshots approaching us. "He doesn't know about you two, I assume," he continues, "do you think he'd be pissed?" Changbin asks.

He shouldn't care what Chan and I do together or not. Specially if we take into account he's fucking one of our enemies. However, he would -most definitely- go crazy if he finds out we broke our oath.

«The three of us. Our frienship is sacred. That's what makes us different from them. That's how we make the right decisions to avenge our people.»

"Why do you wonder such silly things?" I ask, bringing myself back to reality.

"I don't, but I was surprised." He shrugs, taking his gun down since the sounds we heard before are gone.

"How come?" I frown, taking my own gun down for the first time since he approached me.

"You're always so bitter," he starts, briefly looking at me," I thought it was because you never got laid," he's quick to recover, but I still catch his stupid smirk, so I lift my fist, ready to punch the lights out of him. He reacts faster, holding both my wrists, putting me against the nearest wall.

I think about kicking his balls, but he moves faster, and somehow I end up with my leg around his hips. It takes me a couple of seconds to realize the position we're in, but he stops me before I can move my leg down.

"Let go of me. What do you think you're doing?" I ask through gritted teeth. My skin is burning, but not exactly because I'm mad.

"Listen, I know we're like in the middle of something important, but do you honestly think appropriate going around wearing...that?" he whispers, looking at me up and down again. One hand holding mine and the other one holding my leg around him. I feel my skin getting hotter. I can't even shoot back, saying how he shouldn't give a fuck about my clothes. He moves his head closer to me, his nose brushing my neck up to my ear. "You're fucking driving me crazy," he groans. I stop trying to move for a second, processing. Thinking about my next reply, I open my mouth, but only a moan comes out of it when he sucks on the little spot behind my ear. He looks at me for a second before he lets go of my hands. Our breathing equally erratic coming through our mouths.

We're looking at eachother's eyes and lips repeatedly until I fist his shirt, pulling him back to me, finally kissing him.

He responds pliant, with a groan kissing me back.

________________________________________________________________

Afterwards, while I'm fixing my clothes and he’s doing the same, I laugh softly, because I've clearly lost my mind. This situation has to be a sick joke the universe is putting me through.

"See? I knew all you needed was to be dicked down to be in a good mood," he scoffs, and I snap back to reality. What the fuck did I just do?!

"You fucking asshole!" I snarl, punching his nose. He falls to the ground, and I straddle him. I start punching his face, over and over again, until I hear him laughing, so I grab my gun and put it between his eyebrows. His smile grows wider. His teeth are tinted red.

"I love that I know just which buttons to press," he says. "Do you think Chan will notice? That you're not his anymore, I mean. Do you think he'll notice tonight when he fucks you?" I'm about to shoot him when I hear Hyunjin and Han shouting at us. Or well, me.

"Hey! Hey, _____! What the fuck do you think you're doing???"

Han lifts me up, grabbing my gun and taking me away from Changbin. Hyunjin helps Changbin, who's coughing and spitting blood.

Hyune turns to me. He looks so mad I actually recoil a bit.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?”  He yells at me, “do you want this truce to work or not? Your word loses more and more value every time." I swear I've never seen him so upset in my entire life. And we've fought so many times in the past. His words hurt because I know I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. He turns again to help Changbin.

"What happened?" Jisung asks softly.

"He's an asshole. That's what happened" I set myself free from his hold, grab my gun, and start walking to our house, not caring about them calling for me.

________________________________________________________________

I hear a soft knock on my bathroom door when I'm getting out of the shower.

"_____?" Chan calls gently on the other side. I put the towel around my body and open the door. I can tell he's trying so hard not to look at my barely covered body. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?" I speak rather harsh. He raises an eyebrow at me like it's obvious. "He's a dick," I say, rolling my eyes, and my mind tells me that's a good word to describe him, not only for his personality but because of his c-

"Did he set you up? Or provoke you?" he asks, concerned. Oh, he definitely did, I think.

"I don't wanna talk about it. I think, I shouldn't keep attending the training. Not when that asshole is around," I shrug.

"You can't leave Jisung alone! You're the sec-"

"I don't care, Chan," I cut him off, "I can't deal with that stupid piece of shit. I'll quit my position," I state, and Chan frowns, confused.

"What really happened? What did he do? You'd never let a guy make you quit. Especially him."

And he's right. That's not me. I'm not a quitter. Sure, what happened is horrible (not the sex part, sadly,) but the fact that it was Changbin's plan all along, and I fell for it. He wanted me out. He even asked for it in the deal he made with Jisung. He repeatedly said he didn't want to work with me. He didn't trust me. He didn't think it was appropriate for me to be the second one. That scumbag son of a b-

"_____?" Chan waves his hand before my eyes. I blink a couple of times, snapping back to reality. "You were gone for a while," Chan laughs, quietly. I smile.

"Sorry, I was thinking, and you're right. I'm not a quitter." Chan smiles widers. He looks proud.

"That's my girl."

________________________________________________________________

When I wake up, Han is looking at me with a questioning expression I don't understand, until I feel Chan moving under the covers behind me.

In my bed.

Shit.

I get up silently, motioning Jisung to go outside, so we can talk while Chan is still snoring.

"What the hell?" He questions, squinting his eyes. I can tell he's upset, but he doesn't want get ahead of his thoughts. "Tell me it's not what it looks like. I thought you didn't return his feelings"

"I don't," I say and take a deep breath. "You know I don't, we've talked about this before, Ji. Its just..." I sigh, walking around, grabbing my hair. "I don't want to hurt him."

"Right, cause sleeping with him and giving him the wrong impression, and then telling him you're not into him, isn't going to hurt or anything. Are you even listening to yourself?"

"I mean because of you sneaking around with Minho and me with Hyunjin. You know he wouldn't understand. I needed to calm him down, but I swear, nothing has happened."

"I don't even understand..." he starts but I cut him off again.

"You don't have to. All you have to do is believe me when I tell you nothings has or will happen between us. You guys are like my brothers. I could never look at you like that. I know I have to clear that out with Chan, but I can't do it right now. We have to give him one less thing to worry about." Understanding seems to light up Jisung's face.

"By making him believe you're with him, so he doesn't supects about your sneaking around every night," he smirks. "You know you're going to break his heart at some point, right? When he wants you to move forward. Whe he gets tires of only inocently cuddling at night in your bed. When he asks for commitment from you and you won't be able to do it. What are you going to do then, huh?" He shakes his head.

"I'll figure something out." It's all I say, rushing to the kitchen to get breakfast ready.

________________________________________________________________

"I won't apologize, but I will say it won't happen again," I say, looking to the floor. Chan and Jisung next to me.

In front of us are Minho, Hyunjin, and Changbin, with bruises all over his face and neck. I'm not looking at him because I know I'll laugh. He looks ridiculous.

"How can we be sure tho?" Minho asks, "how do we know you're not going to attack him or any of us?"

I roll my eyes, and take a deep breath.

"You have my word. As long as Changbin is no way near me, I can promise I will not hurt any of you or your people," I look straight at Minho's eyes, because I know that if I don't, he won't trust me, and I mean what I'm saying.

"Your word means nothing," Changbin intervenes, "I didn't trust you before, I definitely don't do it now." I hold back my laugh. One, because truly, he looks hilarous. And two, because of his cynicism.

Before I can speak, we hear some people approaching us. Four of Changbin's guys are coming with two people I've never met before but I dam well know who they are. Seungmin and Felix work for Jeongin, the leader of the new surging group. The reason we're joining forces.

"Yang Jeongin would like to talk to you in our territory-" Felix starts but he’s interrupted.

"What territory?" Hyunjin scoffs, "you live mid-way our territories. You're just a bunch of kids playing with something you don't understand."

Seungmin squint his eyes, approaching Hyunjin.

"We live in the mess your groups created. We just want to fix it. That's why so many people has left you to join us. We might be younger than all of you, but we have a clearer view of how to move forward, instead of continue in this misery you've kept us for so long."

He hands a envelope to Hyunjin, and they both turn around, marching back home.

[jake-g-lockley]

I’m Cold... (Poe Dameron x gn!reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist

Warnings: None, fluff. (Edit: alcohol, i forgot the alcohol warning AHAHAHA)

Word Count: 1.3k words.

Summary: Commander Dameron is cold, drunk, and silly.

Gif from @userpoe

A/N: I woke up cold yesterday so I wrote this cuz why not. Let me know if someone has done something similar HAHAHAHAH

Tagging: @ahookedheroespureheart

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up to someone bashing your door and instantly, you grab your blaster and point it to the door, clutching your blanket and bantha stuffie close.

“Y/N, wake upppp…!” a loud voice groaned from the other side.

You scowl at the voice, anger bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you glance at the clock beside you.

2 am. 

You had a 9 am meeting with General Organa today and you only managed to go to sleep at about 12 am. You knew he was doing this on purpose. 

“Commander Dameron, why are you trying to break my door down?” you say putting your blaster down but not moving from the comfort of your bed. 

The second you met the leader of the Black Squadron, you decided to declare that he was your enemy and he seemed to do the same. Yes, sure, the both of you were fighting for the same cause, but a million stormtroopers could not come close to the disdain you had for your commander. The both of you stubbornly drove Finn, Rose, Rey, General Organa and the rest of the resistance up and over the wall with your constant bickering, arguing and competition. 

“Open up, pleaseee. Your commander commands you to let him in.” he giggled and you hear him slump against the door. 

Great, he’s drunk.

“Dameron, please go back to your room, I have an early meeting, I need to get back to bed.” you say, still not opening the door. 

Suddenly, you hear the familiar whirls and beeps from the pilot’s droid and your eyes widen as you hear him keying the passcode into the keypad with BB-8’s instructions. Two seconds later, the door whooshes open, light flooding in and you see the familiar outline of your commander, your eyes barely adjusting in time to catch BB-8 rolling away at high speed.

“BB, I SWEAR, I'M GOING TO TAKE YOU APART WITH A SLEDGEHAMMER AND SELL YOU AS SCRAPS!” you yell from your bed at the runaway ball of metal. 

The pilot slumps inside and smacks the keypad behind him and the door whooshes close, sending the room back into darkness

“What could you possibly want that could not wait till more civilized hours, Commander?” you ask, hatred dripping like venom from your words. 

“I’m cold.” he simply says.

“You decided to wake me up at 2 am, because you are cold?” you growl through gritted teeth.

“Mhmm.” he smiles, that big toothy grin that would charm anyone into absolution and invites himself to sit on your bunk bed, next to your legs and starts taking off his boots. 

You throw the bantha at his head and he catches it with accurate precision, his reflexes still sharp, despite being drunk. He sets the bantha aside and continues to take off his boots.

“Y/N.”

“What, Dameron?” You say, slowly leaning up on your forearms and shifting away from him.

“I’m cold.” He repeats, looking at you with his big dopey, soft eyes.

“Yea, you already said that, I can’t do anything to help you with that.” You huff, trying to ignore the little twang in your heart that sounded when you briefly met said dopey eyes.

You scan his face, taking in the pink tint lightly covering his cheeks and nose, his one day old stubble, the gorgeous curve of his jaw, his soft pillowy lips. 

Your hand itches to tuck the little stray curl that had popped away from his mass of black hair. And then you find yourself staring again at his beautiful brown orbs. You often find yourself getting woozy over those eyes, especially when no one is looking.

Ugh, why does he have to be such a pretty boy?

“Pretty boy?” Poe smirked, scooching closer to you.

Whoops.

“I-i didn’t say that, I meant, pretty b-bossy.” You quickly stutter but Poe smiles and without a warning he laid his soft head of hair down onto your stomach and stared up at you, legs still planted awkwardly onto the floor outside of the bed. You tensed, surprised at the sudden contact but eventually relaxed.

“What are you doing, Poe?” You whisper, letting autopilot take over as you run your hand through his soft curls. 

He sighs, pressing the side of his face further into your tummy, his eyes fluttering shut. You swore your heart was begging to tear itself out of your chest cavity with how hard it was pounding and you were pretty sure Poe could hear it too. 

“Can you cuddle me, please, Y/N?” He whispers back, opening his eyes slightly to meet yours again. 

Without thinking twice, you find yourself nodding fervently as he moves his head off your tummy and lays down properly beside you. You immediately bring his head close to your chest, as he pulls himself closer to you, entangling his legs with yours, arms snaking around your body. You slowly cover the both of you with your little blanket. 

He nuzzles close and you find yourself relaxing, the unknown creature inside you taming with the soft whooshes of his breath on your skin. You breathe his scent in, leather mixed with masculine aftershave plus the familiar smell of Jet Juice on his breath. 

“Can you play with my hair again, please?” He whispers after a while, and again you instantly oblige, not understanding what is making you feel this way. 

But you didn’t feel robotic. No. This felt natural and normal. The same way the arguments and bickering felt normal with him. Maybe you were doing this because you hoped he wouldn’t remember a thing tomorrow. Maybe you were doing this just because you longed to do this for so long.

“I’m in love with you.” he whispers, and the words reverberated through your chest and coated your heart like sweet glazed honey making it grind to a halt.

“You’re drunk, Commander.” you teased, once you regain your sense of consciousness. 

“I know you love me too.” he says and you didn’t dare deny it. 

You knew he was the other reason you got out of bed every day. You fought with him because you cared about his safety and hated his recklessness. You wanted to kiss him every time a mission went right. You cried yourself to sleep silently when he took too long to return from the secret missions that the General sent him to. You never wanted to admit your feelings for him and you were glad that this man was stupidly observant enough to do it for you. 

Instead, you bent forward and gave him a soft lingering kiss on his forehead, hands still slowly playing with his curls and he sighs, hugging you tighter.

“Sleep, pretty boy, we have all the time in the world to talk.” You whisper and immediately you feel his breathing slow as his grip on you relaxes.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up to the sound of a camera flashing loudly and you groaned, pulling Poe’s shifting body back closer to you, wrapping your legs around him to keep him from escaping.

“RISE AND SHINE, LOVEBIRDS, WE HAVE BETS TO COLLECT.” Finn, Rose and Rey say in unison as you slowly peak over Poe’s head at them, hiding your heated cheeks. BB-8 was happily rolling around in one spot and beeping in glee. 

“What the hell do you mean by bets?” Poe groaned and turned to look at them.

“Oh please, the whole Resistance has been waiting for this.” Rose squeals, waving the polaroid at your face. 

“Even the General had placed her bets. Oh, we’re gonna be so rich.” Rey says, slapping Poe’s back, making him wince.

You facepalm and Poe swings his leg which catches Finn’s shin, making him yelp. 

“Should we tell them that nothing particularly spicy happened?” you whispered, lifting Poe’s face to look up at you.

“Let them have their fun.” Poe asks, giving you a boyish smirk. “Ready to face the shame of today?” 

“Ready when you are, Commander.” You smirk back. 

[godlessandwrecked]

down like sunsets | r. lupin

1978. summer at the Potters’ is always guaranteed to be a hell of a good time: swims in the lake, cold beer, apple picking and marshmallow roasting. remus can’t keep his hands off his girl.

WORD COUNT: 4,3k

PAIRING: remus lupin x fem reader

CONTENTS: NSFW 18+, fluffy smut and rem being a softie for his girl, oral sex (female receiving), kind of an exhibitionist vibe but not really, sirius and reader being besties that simultaneously hate each other, alcohol consumption

A/N: I couldn’t help myself, I had to write this so I could live my fantasy of spending the summer with the Marauders in the 70s, cause WHO the fuck wouldn’t want that? it inevitably turned steamy and I am: not sorry. this is just Remus being a needy puppy. that’s it, that’s the whole plot.

“Sirius, I swear, if you let me fall-”

“Will you calm down? I would never,” Sirius huffed through gritted teeth, his hold on your thighs getting tighter as he struggled to keep his balance with your added weight on his shoulders.

You stretched your arm out, the tips of your fingers barely grazing the glossy red apple hanging off the tree, “I can’t reach it, it’s too high.”

“Okay, I’m gonna jump,” Sirius exclaimed. “You get one chance.”

“What? Siri-”

Before you had time to finish the sentence, Sirius had already jumped, making you bounce up on his shoulders. You quickly stretched your arm out a little higher and managed to get a hold of the fruit in your hand, but Sirius lost his balance from the leap, his ankles wobbling, and you both tumbled onto the soft grass with a loud thump and a squeal. 

“So much for not letting me fall, you wanker,” you laughed, untangling your arms and legs and pushing Sirius away, who was sitting on top of you hand, still holding onto the apple. “Oh no! It has a fucking hole in it!”

Sirius stared at the apple silently for a second before he broke into an obnoxious laughter that echoed through the whole backyard, throwing his head back onto the ground and clutching his stomach in his hands.

“It’s not funny!”

“What are these knobheads up to now?” James stepped out of his house and into the yard where his friends were hanging out, holding a blue beach towel in one hand and a brick red radio in the other.

“Trying to manage without magic.” Remus was laying down on the grass, watching his girlfriend and his best friend with a huge grin on his face as you laughed like idiots under the apple tree. “It’s not going well, clearly.”

You got up from the ground, dusting the dirt from your hands and knees, and walked over to Remus, holding the apple up in your hand, your lips in a silly pout, showing him where the birds had ravaged the fruit and crushed your dreams of a sweet, freshly picked apple. 

“Aaww,” Remus cooed. “Poor baby,” Remus laughed softly, mimicking your expression in a mocking manner. He grabbed your hand and dragged you down to where he was sitting to peck your lips, as you mumbled “Not funny” between his smooches on your face.

“Lovebirds,” James whistled loudly, interrupting your sweet moment. “Let’s go for a swim! Pads, get the beer.”

And soon after, you were all lounging by the lake near James’ house, the same you’d gone to every single day that week, your bicycles laying in the grass by the shore.

The clear water shimmered beautifully under the scorching mid July sun, the soft waves glinting under the sunlight like crushed diamonds. The birds were chirping happily, and the air carried a soft flowery smell that made you all dizzy. It was your favorite type of day; one of those long, lazy summer afternoons spent swimming in the cool lake and nursing a cold beer.

The radio you’d brought with you from London was blasting some rock tune. Sirius bobbed his head to the song, whistling along to the guitar solo as he laid down on the grass on his towel, flicking his zippo open and shut in his hand as he took puffs from his cigarette with the other. Lily and James were in the water, looking more in love than ever, splashing and chasing each other and laughing fondly; all silly smiles and giggles.

You were laying next to Remus on your shared checkered towel, and he couldn’t have been happier. Your head was resting on the crook of his neck, the water droplets dripping from your wet hair tickling him as they trickled down his neck and pooled on his collarbone. The fruity lotion you had put on was making his head fuzzy, and although his hand was holding your waist, his fingers itched to feel more.

It had been hard for Remus to sit there in only his swimming trunks the first time he’d stayed over at James’ for the summer, with faded scars littering his chest. They had always been a reminder of pain and distress, an anguish that loomed over him even on his best days. But now, years after, he was proud to say he sported his scars unashamedly and comfortably under the non-judgmental presence of his best mates. You all had seen him at his worst and had stuck with him through thick and thin, so there was no point in hiding such superficial things from the people who loved and supported him, and he knew that now.

You stirred by his side, planting a soft kiss on the base of his neck, eliciting a content smile and a squeeze of your waist from Remus. He really couldn’t keep his hands to himself, especially today. The powdery blue swimsuit you were wearing complemented your skin tone beautifully, and you almost reminded Remus of a cat, stretching out in the sun and soaking in its warmth.

You’d also insisted on helping him apply his sunscreen, claiming you didn’t want him to get a sunburn, so he’d had to fight back the urge to topple you onto the grass and kiss you dumb as you made him lay down on his stomach. Your slightly cooler hands felt like heaven under his flushed hot skin, massaging the lotion over his sun-kissed freckled back. 

He also just couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to thoughts of your last night together in London, the week he’d spent at your house, meeting your parents and exploring your hometown through your eyes. That first night you’d shared together and thoughts of you both in your bedroom; of your soft lips and your sweet moans and your hands on him. He couldn’t stop thinking about it—about you—even as you laid beside him now.

“How the fuck is it so hot today?” Sirius exclaimed, holding a freezing beer can against his forehead as if to cool himself down before cracking it open. “This is England, for fuck’s sake.”

“I know,” you sighed, untangling yourself from Remus’ embrace and getting up from the grass. “I’m gonna go for another dip. Y’coming?”

“Yeah, wait for me,” he said, slowly getting up from where he was laying. 

“Oh, yes, cool,” Sirius spoke. “Leave me here feeling even more single than I already was. Thanks, Moony,” he said with a fake tone of annoyance.

“Don’t be dramatic. Give us some time and we’ll find you a girl, Pads. Or a guy.”

“Or a dog owner,” you said, giving Sirius a wink and a grin—to which he answered with the simple gesture of showing you his middle finger—and walking to the edge of the lake. 

Without a second of hesitation, you jumped, perfectly plunging into the greenish water head first. Remus followed behind you, diving in and emerging back up as quickly as he could, only to wrap his arms around you; his chest tightly pressed to your back, picking you up in the air and earning a high pitched squeal from you. He gave your cheek a sweet peck and let you go so you could swim away, swimming behind you. 

“Yeah, go ahead, rub it in!” you heard Sirius’ voice in the distance as you swam away from the shore.

You moves further into the lake, to a shadowy spot shielded from the burning sun by a huge tree, Remus trailing behind you in big, effortless arm strokes.

You couldn’t reach the bottom, but Remus could, so he pulled you towards him and wrapped his arms around you, just so you wouldn’t have to make the effort of actively trying not to drown. Your legs wrapped around his torso, and his hands moved under you thighs, your arms around his neck and your foreheads resting against each other’s.

You leaned in and kissed his cheek affectionately once; and then once again, a little lower this time, again and again, cradling his jaw and chin as his face scrunched up in fake disgust. You giggled softly against his ear at his stupidity and went back to kissing him, only for him to rub his cheek against yours instead, scratching you with his stubble, and making you let out a muffled scream followed by a loud laugh.

Pulling back to look at you, sparkling eyes looking at him through soaked eyelashes, he leaned in closer, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, and humming against you contentedly as you tangled your fingers on the wet curls at the nape of his neck. Your lips molded together as his fingers moved slowly across your skin under the water, inching carefully towards your inner thigh in a dangerous trail. 

“Rem,” you warned, pulling away from his lips, an eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“Where’s your hand going?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”  he teased, acting oblivious.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Wolf.”

“This is torture,” he complained in a childish manner, sighing as he leaned down to press a kiss to the valley of your breasts.

“Suck it up, my love.”

•••

The sun was setting down now, the bright forget-me-not blue melting into deep ambers and violets across the sky, the crescent moon bright and high up against it. Pink Floyd was playing on the radio on a late night session, the spacey melodies bidding farewell to another fun day, and everything was just good.

You’d all taken turns to take quick showers after coming back home from the lake, and had now settled on the backyard once more. You’d managed to build a bonfire with just a lighter and, surprisingly, no magic, and Lily and you had even found some sticks in the woods nearby to roast your marshmallows on. 

You were arguing with Sirius over said marshmallows, again. For the second time that week. The scene was truly comical, to the point where you would think you were fighting for a true life or death matter. Sometimes, Remus thought you both had surely been married in some other lifetime, because the amount of times you argued over nonsense was insane. 

The two of you had known each other for way longer than the rest of your friends had, as your parents had been acquaintances for a long time, and you had been this way with each other since before any of you could recall. You always had a playful bickering going, to see who could irk the other one more or have the last word. You enjoyed pissing each other off, but you were undoubtedly the best of friends; always there for each other, always ready to fight anyone that dared mess with the other. You had sort of an older brother-little sister bond that no one quite got, because as much as you loved each other, you were also at each other’s throats most of the time.

The many beers that had been consumed already weren’t of any help either. James’ parents were away on holiday, leaving the friend group all alone for the week, and it was safe to say that the beer had flowed freely. You’d bought the full stash of the little grocery store in the village close to the house, under the vigilant stare of the old lady selling it, and most of it was already gone. The chaotic energy was sky high, and the daily laughter attack accompanied by tears that always lasted at least a good ten minutes was sure to arrive at any minute now. 

You sat around the bonfire in the backyard, a wood stump serving as a table ready with all things necessary for your nightly snack. You were wearing Remus’ maroon sweater now that the temperatures had fallen along with the night, the sleeves of the garment rolled up as they were far too long for you, the hem reaching your mid thigh.

In Remus’ eyes, you looked adorable. He always felt a sense of pride that he couldn’t explain when you wore his clothes. It wasn’t possessiveness, Godric knows Remus wasn’t the type at all—but more of an endearing, happy and prideful feeling that made his chest warm and his heart ache in the best way.

You sat on his lap sideways, your legs dangling off the armrest of his camping chair, and he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you under your shared blanket. You cozied up on his chest, resting your head on the crook of his neck like you always did. Your happy place.

You leant forward and picked up a big chunk of chocolate from the makeshift table, breaking it in half and offering a piece to Remus. He opened his mouth so you could feed him, and hummed softly when you did, savoring the sweet creaminess of the treat on his tongue appreciatively.

“So, do tell us what you lovebirds did in London. Did you have fun? Was there any snogging? Any touching, perhaps?” James asked curiously, poking a hole through a marshmallow with his stick. 

“Not this again…” Lily complained. 

“Why are you so obsessed with our sex life?” You asked, eyebrow raised as you took a swig from your beer.

“Oh, so you’ve shagged? I knew it!”

“Took you long enough,” said Sirius, popping a roasted marshmallow into his mouth. “Where’s my fucking money?”

“You were betting on us?” Remus asked, taken aback but unsurprised, a slight smile on his tone. 

“No, but now I wish we had,” Sirius said. “Come on, we were just waiting on you two impatiently. You never did it back at school, and Godric knows you wanted it, always all over each other and whatnot. I just don’t understand how you lasted so long without doing the deed.”

Clearly annoyed, you threw a marshmallow at him, landing it right between his eyebrows and bouncing back onto the floor. Sirius picked it back up, the plushy sweet now covered in dirt, and with a crazed expression, threw it back at you. You ducked down on Remus’s lap, barely dodging it.

“You’re gonna eat that, Black,” you threatened in a tone that could’ve scared anyone but only made Sirius laugh hysterically. You give him your middle finger and hot up from the chair, walking into the house, empty beer can in hand.

Remus trailed behind you, making his way towards the kitchen to find some more chocolate and hopefully avoid any more questions about your shared time in London.

He wasn’t uncomfortable with his friends’ harmless curiosity, he just didn’t think your shared affections were something to be discussed. He wasn’t the type to brag about those things like people back at school used to when they were younger—he preferred to keep certain things private, just for the two of you. It only made it all the more special and exciting.

He found you in the kitchen, filling up a glass of water from the tap. You turned around to face him when you sensed his presence, to see him silently sneaking a piece of chocolate from the counter. He winked at you from across the room and you grinned, shaking you head. 

“Hey, you okay? That didn’t bother you, right?” he asked, referring to their friends’ inquiry. He walked closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“Not at all. It’s just fun to be mean to Sirius, s’all,” you said, making him laugh at your constant fake animosity.

He cupped your cheek with his hand, brushing over your brow with his fingers, admiring your familiar features silently.

His girl.

You looked so pretty clad in only his sweater, your legs bare; tired, sleepy eyes from the day’s activities; a content smile on your face as you gazed back at him, batting your lashes slowly. You pressed a kiss to the palm of his hand cradling your face, and before he knew it, too entranced in you, you were dragging him back to the backyard, your hand in his. 

But he couldn’t let you go that easily. He wouldn’t, not now that you were finally alone for the first time that day.

The dim light coming from the kitchen faintly illuminated the desolate hallway as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back towards him, pressing you against the wall and silencing your surprised squeal with a kiss. You melted into his embrace, draping your arms over his shoulders, your lips molding together gently. He grinned at your reaction, both his hands coming up to your face to hold your cheeks and bring you closer to him.

He swiped his tongue over your lips, asking for entrance into your mouth, but you denied him, pulling away from his mouth instead. “Don’t get carried away, Rem. We’re not alone.” 

He could hear his friends laughing and talking animatedly outside, but he didn’t care much, “So?”

His lips moved down your neck, placing playful, wet kisses under your jaw. He gently tried to persuade you into giving up, his hand sliding down your body, finding your butt and pressing you flush against his front.

“Please?” he asked. “You know I have a sweet tooth.” He eyed you up and down, like he was about to have a piece of cake.

You bit down on her lip at what he was hinting, your skin heating up as you pondered his proposition.

Remus Lupin wasn’t as innocent as everyone thought he was—playful, cheeky and witty Remus, with the smart comebacks, and as you had learned not that long ago, a skillful tongue.

“Let me make you feel good, baby.”

At that, you were done for.

“Okay,” you nodded in excitement and pushed his head down, bringing him to his knees as he grinned up at you happily and eager to have your now familiar taste on his tongue again.

He wrapped his hands around your thighs, nudging your legs apart before he dove in and started to plant soft, open mouthed kisses from your knee all the way up to your thigh, inching closer and closer inwards, and biting at the soft flesh of your inner thigh. 

“Remus,” you squirmed. “Don’t tease, please. Someone’s gonna walk in on us.”

“Oh, but you’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby?” 

You weren’t embarrassed to admit to yourself that the possibility of it was exhilarating, but of course, you weren’t going to tell him that. It only made you more impatient for him to get on with it.

He hitched your sweater—his sweater—up, revealing your underwear, and kissed you over the fabric gently, barely grazing his lips against you and inhaling your scent, looking up at you through his long lashes, green eyes sparkling in the dim light.

You breathed in harshly in anticipation, your breathing getting agitated, already weak for him as your knees wobbled. His fingers caressed lightly over the skin at the hem of your underwear, carefully tracing the outline and leaving goosebumps under his feather light touch.

“You’re gonna kill me, Remus, please,” she looked down at him with pleading eyes. 

“Please, what?”

“I want you, please.”

“What do you want, my love?” he kept playing with you, hooking his fingers on your panties and pulling them down your legs slowly as he placed gentle kisses over your lower belly.

“Your mouth. I want your mouth.”

Who was he to deny his precious girl the pleasure she deserved? 

That was all he needed to get on with it. He wrapped his hand around your thigh, lifting it up effortlessly and placing it over his shoulder, his face inches close to your core, and he eyed you in concentration, his lips parted as he debated his next move. One of his hands moved up from your thigh, and with careful fingers, he spread your folds, staring at the sweet, wet spot where your arousal was pooling. 

“Look at you, baby. That’s a good girl,” he whispered in a hoarse voice, a smug grin on his face when he saw how wet you were already for him.

He buried his head between your legs, his lips finally making contact with you, and you gasped in surprise, the feeling of his warm tongue washing over you like some drug. He breathed a laugh at your reaction, and stroked over your clit again, kissing at your folds and your slit; hot, and slow, and wet, and relentless.

He sucked on your nub before running his tongue down your folds and pushing it into your opening, lapping at your dripping hole and catching your arousal in his mouth. You tensed in his hold as he kept fucking you with his tongue, his hand moving up your thigh to draw lazy circles over your clit with his thumb.

Your fingers tangled in his sandy, sun bleached hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp, and you gave it a firm tug as his tongue made a certain vertical stroke that sent you into overdrive, your head falling back onto the wall. Thank fuck he was holding you up, because you were sure that if he wasn’t, your legs would’ve given up by now. 

He looked up at you from his spot on the floor once more, his big green doe eyes darker in the dim light and hazed with arousal, and kept lapping at you, sucking and licking ravenously, seemingly unable to get enough of your sweet taste on his tongue. He intently observed every little face expression you were making: your eyebrows furrowed and eyes closed tightly, mouth hanging open in a soundless, broken moan. He twitched in his pants as you bit down on your lip, swallowing your own moans, trying to keep as quiet as you could. 

“My girl, so beautiful. I love you,” he mumbled, his mouth never leaving your skin.

“I- fuck, Remus, I love you too,” you managed to choke out, trying to catch your breath. “Yes, so good.”

“You wanna ride my face, baby?”

His nose bucked against your clit as he urged you to roll your hips against his tongue, his hold on your thigh tight, sure to leave the imprint of his fingers; his other hand on your hip, bringing you further on his shoulder and closer to his mouth, pinning you in place.

He just sat there, letting you have your way with him and fucking yourself on his face as he moaned along with you, your hips rocking on his open mouth, his tongue flat against you as you tangled your fingers in his hair and tugged at it harsher now.

You were trying to keep your moans and whines at bay, letting out hushed out encouraging praises and whimpers instead that only made Remus more insistent and eager to please. Although, your efforts proved to be of not that much help, because the sounds he was making echoed through the whole corridor.

Merlin. The sounds. The slurping, and the slobbering, and the filthy wet sounds he was making as he sucked on you. You hadn’t realized before that you could be so fucking turned on. You were sure that if his mouth hadn’t been catching your juices, you would be quite literally dripping onto the floor by now. 

You felt like you were floating, laying down on a pillowy cloud in the sky, far, far away from the dark corridor. Everything else banished, you couldn’t really think about your friends suddenly walking in on you, to find Remus on his knees with his head between your legs. You couldn’t even feel an ounce of embarrassment or shame. It was just Remus and you and his mouth on you driving you closer and closer to release with every brush of his tongue over your swollen clit. 

“My pretty girl. So, so good for me,” he hummed against you, sending a chill down your spine. “You gonna cum for me, baby?”

You nodded desperately, making the arduous effort of opening your eyes, and as your gazes met, you felt the world crumbling away. His cheeks were flushed red, his murky green eyes hazed and burning with intensity, pupils blown out, his hair messy from your hands running through it. You could see the outline of his growing erection in his pants, aching to be released, and how he was palming himself over the fabric, his other hand tightly wrapped around your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh.

The overwhelming feeling of love you felt for him at that moment only added more fuel to the fire burning bright in your belly. It seemed as if looking at him was all you needed to come.

A flush of heat surged from the pit of your stomach and up towards your chest, dusting your skin with a cold sweat, and your breathing got rattier and uncontrolled as waves of pleasure washed over you; fingertips pricking with electricity and your head spinning, eyes rolling back into a leg shaking orgasm.

Remus smiled at you as you came down from your high, still down on his knees, grinning happily from between your legs, wiping his mouth with his hand and sticking his fingers into his mouth to get every last little drop of you. He planted a kiss on your lower belly before helping you get into your panties again.

He got up from the floor, towering over you as you tried to catch your own breath and steady your still shaking legs. He was about to connect your lips once more when-

“Oh, here you are!” Lily interrupted you, barging into the house and stopping in her tracks on her way to the kitchen once she saw you both. “You’re really missing out on Sirius’ reenactment of Romeo and Juliet. He���s doing it all on his own, it’s very impressive.”

Remus was still pinning you against the wall, his hands on your waist, but Lily didn’t seem to pick up on that or his flushed cheeks or your ragged breathing; she just continued talking animatedly as she walked down the corridor. 

Remus sighed, knowing he would have to wait until later to get his own release, but content nonetheless now that he’d gotten what he’d been dying for the whole day. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Let’s go back, you gotta bully Sirius for that.”

═════════ ❃ ═════════

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[finelinevogue]

could you write something about the readers parents not liking her and harry comforts her please

ok this is going to be quite sad and angsty so hold on tight!

Y/N was crying in her room. Again.

This was turning out to be a daily occurrence now. Wake up. Get shouted at. Go to school. Learn how to dissect a frog and master how to write the perfect essay. Come home. Get shouted at. Sleep. The weekends, she didn’t get all the good in-between stuff, it was just waking up to be shouted at.

For what? Well not even Y/N could answer that.

Her parents had despised her since the day she was born, or at least Y/N presumed. She was never allowed to go out without permission from her parents. She was not allowed to eat certain foods, because “she didn’t need to be any fatter”. She wasn’t supposed to wear anything inappropriate. She wasn’t allowed relationships. Although that last one, she cheated on.

Harry had been Y/Ns best friend all through high-school, until they reached college and Harry couldn’t wait any longer to make her officially his. He wanted her so badly. She was his best friend but he craved for more. It took Y/N a lot of persuading, but it was the best thing she’d ever done for herself. Harry was kind to her. He treated her with respect and love - something she’d never had from her parents.

Having a relationship whilst being instructed you weren’t allowed one, made things very difficult. Harry could only see Y/N when she allowed him to. After finishing chores she would tell her parents she was going to grab food or cleaning supplies from the grocery store, only to go and spend a few hours with Harry in his treehouse. She would always come back with a bag full of shopping and made sure she covered the hickeys on her neck well. It would be hard to explain their origin of those marks to her parents.

“Y/N!”

Her mum had never provided her with a nickname, only ever calling her by her proper name. Harry gave her nicknames and pet names galore; baby, honey, sweetheart, lovie, darling and petal to name but a few.

You had learnt that shouting back was “never okay” so you left your bedroom and walked down the stairs to find your mum, who’d just shouted for you.

“Yes mum?” You timidly asked, standing at the door with your fingers fiddling with each other.

Your mum turned and scoffed at the sight of you. “Oh Jesus Y/N! You look horrible. That dress is disgusting.” It just so happened to be your favourite dress - a simple, long - as necessary - white dress with pretty flowers embroidered in baby pink and blue across the skirt. It made you feel like a weightless princess. “Don’t you agree?” Your mum asked your dad.

“Oh yes. Too much fat showing.” Your dad lovingly commented back.

You looked down at yourself, thinking that maybe it was showing a bit too much skin and therefore showing off your fat. Harry always told you that you were completely beautiful - an angel - but it was hard to believe on days like this. You crossed your arms over your chest in discomfort. Speaking back would only make things worse, so you took the verbal abuse as it came.

“Now,” your mum sat up a bit more, “i’m finding it really hard to look at you right now, Y/N, because i’m hurt by you.” Tears, fake of course, were forming in her eyes.

“W-why?”

“Mrs Tucker said she saw you and a young boy kissing outside the grocery store the other night - the same night you said you were going to pick up cleaning supplies.” Your heart dropped to your feet, because it was true. You had been with Harry. You’d never thought about anyone catching you, mainly because you thought no one cared about you enough. Mrs Tucker does like a good gossip though, dammit.

“A boy Y/N!” Your dad shouted in reiteration, making you flinch to the noise.

“Now I told Mrs Tucker that was being silly. That lady will do anything for a natter.” You stilled, thinking you were off the hook, but you should ‘t have been so quick to let your guard down. “Until your dad and I followed you to the grocery store the next night, although we never reached the store did we Y/N? No we were outside a house instead.”

Oh no. You are so dead.

“A boys house, Y/N? You weren’t raised to be a whore.” Your dad spat at you, turning away from you as if the sight of you was disgusting.

“God knows who he is or what you’re doing with him, but it stops. Right now, today.” Your mum gritted through her teeth, obviously trying to keep her calm.

“But—”

“No!” You mum screamed. “I will not be seen as the mother of a daughter who sleeps with random boys, instead of studying and working hard for her family!”

This was so 1800s. This was your life.

You had actual tears forming in your eyes now, unlike those your mum bared. It was so silly that this was making you cry but you were so upset that they thought they could control your life this way. It was devastating.

“I-I.. I love him though.” You choked out between tiny sobs, “I love him.” You whispered - that having been the first time you’d told someone else other than Harry. It actually felt good. Relieving. To declare your love for Harry made the world feel possible.

“Love? You no nothing about love.” You dad rolled his eyes and you couldn’t help but laugh at his words.

“The only reason I don’t know about love is because I never got it from either of you.” You started to fight back. This was a battle you were determined to win. No more hiding behind a timid figure. You were willing to stand up for yourself - no one else was going to.

“Because there’s nothing to love about you!”

You didn’t recall who this came from, all you remember is your heart dropping below the floor and fleeing from the room. Fleeing from the house. Fleeing from a family who didn’t see you as anything but a human being. You weren’t a daughter to them. You were nothing. Your heart called elsewhere. It yearned for the person closest to you.

It wasn’t until you were met with Harry’s front door that you realised where you were and what had happened.

“Oh Y/N! Hi lov—” Anne greeted you, until she saw that you were crying heavily and your chest was rising rapidly. “Harry!” She shouted into the house, leaving you a brief moment to collapse onto the floor in front of you. You didn’t care for the pain that ran through your knees from the impact - only the pain in your heart from the break it had just suffered.

“Woah angel, hey, hey.” Harry was by your side within seconds, completely incasing his body around you. Your head laid buried against his warm chest and his arms hugged you close to him like never before. His smell was one of home. He encompassed you and made you feel safe and loved. You weren’t alone.

“I-i’m unloveable.”

“But I love you.” Harry whispered against your hair, warm air softly kissing your skin.

“Yes, but—”

“No, “but”. I love you, Y/N L/N, I really fucking do. You’re my other half, baby.” He kissed your forehead a few times, knowing that’s your second favourite place to be kissed. “Your parents don’t deserve you, they really don’t. They’re cruel and cold-hearted, but that doesn’t mean I am. I think you’re beautiful, clever and kind. I think you’re everything i could ever want. And I know that you can’t be unloveable, because i’m, so deeply, in love with you.”

Harry continued to rock you, as your cried into his chest. You’d never believed in yourself before meeting him and you never thought that he could be so genuine towards you. He couldn’t care less what your parents think, as long as he helped remind you that you’re none of what they think of you. You’re so much better than mindless words. You make you you, not your parents. Harry’s helped you discover who you are and who you want to be. Even though your miles from becoming who you want to be, and you have your setbacks, you’re proud of how far you’ve come.

You cried against his chest, until the pain softened and your could regain your breath again. You unburied yourself from his hold and looked up to him with love in your eyes.

“There’s my beautiful girl, looking like a princess in you pretty dress.” He smiled down at you, even though you knew you had puffy eyes, red cheeks and a snotty nose. He loved you and all your perfect imperfections.

“Thank you, H.” You said with a wobble to your lips, really meaning your words.

“I know, baby.”

“I really do love you too.” You made sure he knew. His heart fluttered a little faster over your words. He leaned down to kiss you gently, minding all the salty water and grimy snot that laid on your face. His kiss sent butterflies swarming through your stomach and a new type of red appeared on your cheeks.

“Waffles anyone?” Anne asked as she stood at the door, the smells of sweet honey and cream only hitting you now. It was that moment that you realised your heart had never belonged with your parents, your heart belonged here, with Harry. Forever and always.

[azurexsnake]

Thot of the Day: offering to rub Taiju’s shoulders, eek some of the tension out of his muscles. You’re home, just you, him, and the paperwork scattered around his office desk, so you tentatively reach around to unbutton his shirt, citing a need for better access when sharp, golden eyes turn your way. He knows you’re up to something but he is tired. So long as your fingers keep doing what they’re doing, he’s content for you to continue.

And of course you do, watching as he melts further and further into your touch. Eating up all the little grunts, growls, and groans that rumble through his throat. Feeling for every knot and relishing the hiss and sigh as you work through each.

“Tai,” he leans back to listen, an appraising but thoroughly relaxed eye trained on you, “don’t move, okay?”

You’re careful to keep your expression unassuming, a delicate smile given and a line of kisses down the side of his neck follows- a soft ‘please’ for good measure that makes a sigh flare out his nostrils. But he leans back in his seat for you, into your embrace and the plush of your tits against his shoulder blades.

His head turns, a kiss of his own laid to the far edge of your jaw as your fingers pop more buttons, exposing skin and ink to your trailing touch.

“Love you, Tai,” you murmur, kissing everywhere you can but his lips. “Your body, too.”

“Don’t be shallow.” He says that but his voice is gruff, coming out strained to match the bulge pulsing to life in his slacks. You have him right where want him.

“Am I not supposed to find you attractive?” Your nails tease over the dips and crests of his abs and his whole stomach flinches for it, something akin to a whimper getting caught in his throat.

“I have work to do.”

Oh, is that how he’s going to be?

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it then.”

He should be glad to get you and your wandering hands out of his hair and happy trail both. Glad that he can finish balancing books and scheduling in peace. Except he finds himself spinning his back on it all to haul you by your wrist back into his lap.

“I never said I wanted that.”

Your smiles stays sweet as you wrap your arms around his neck, sweet enough to almost conceal the triumphant air that surrounds you while you play with the free hairs at his nape.

“How silly of me to have misunderstood. My mistake.”

His hands squeeze angrily at your thighs, one part frustrated with himself for his own weakness, the other needing to keep you close as your hands glide back down under his shirt once more. Still, he keeps his expression stern, “Don’t let it happen again.”

“And what if I do, Tai?” Your fingers fly to his chest, pinching both his nipples tight and pulling to where his hips buck under your ass so you can feel the hot and hard mass of him. You can see his teeth grit as you twist his two, little buds back and forth between your thumb and knuckle, the stimulation enough to make his cock jump, demanding attention. Freedom. Anything but being stuck in the confines of oppressive, black cotton.

“What would you do to me, Taiju?”

It’s never once failed to surprise you how fast Taiju is for a man of his size. This time is no different when your positions are suddenly flipped, your wrists pinned together over the back of the chair with a wall of him consuming your vision.

“Why don’t I demonstrate right now, since you’re so desperate to get fucked until you can’t feel your legs? Where will you go then, you little minx?”

“Who-” Fuck, you don’t mean for your voice to come out as small as it does, but it’s not something you think you can help at this point as your legs wrap their way around solid hips. “Who said I wanted to go anywhere?”

And why wouldn’t his smile show off the pointed canines you love so much too?

“That’s what I thought.”

20+ Content. 19 & Under DNI.

[bobathirstaccount]

The Invitation (or, You wanna do some drugs, Princess?)

Boba x fem!reader, smutty sex pollen

Boba. You. His bed. Sex pollen. Things happen ;)

TW: unprotected sex, recreational drug use

***

Boba licked his lips. His mouth was dry. You laid out before him, prone on his bed. When he had said you could use his room to do drugs in private, he hadn’t thought you would raid his stash quite so thoroughly. You moaned softly, your arm over your eyes and your mouth slightly open. He wanted to kiss your open mouth.

You sighed and moved your arm, rolling over in his bed. You faced him now. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came. He closed it. You were watching him now, eyes bleary.

“What the hell is in that green jar, anyways?” Your words slurred.

“You really did raid my stash. That was way in the back.”


You smiled softly, “You said I could do your drugs…”

He let out an amused huff, but quickly became serious again. “It’s a mixture of several things…”


You waited, starting to breath heavily. He watched you rest your head on his pillow.

“THC…” he began.

“Yes.”

“…spice…”

“Makes sense.”

”And… one more thing?” He didn’t want to say, as if that would help the situation.

“Being…?”

“Zeltronian pollen.”’

Your eyes flicked to him, “Don’t know that one.”

He grimaced. You continued to wait, your chest heaving.


“It’s… an aphrodisiac,” he finished quickly. You snorted, “That explains a couple things.” Boba didn’t know what to do.

You looked up at him, “Well. Are you gonna join me in doing drugs? Don’t leave me hanging.”

He hesitantly moved towards the bed and sat carefully at the foot of it. He grabbed a small pot and looked up at you. Your eyes were closed and your lips were pressed together. You very slightly rocked back and forth.

Boba looked down at his chosen substance. He didn’t know if it was wise to get high when you were on sex pollen. You rolled over onto your back and your legs spread slightly. His eyes immediately went to your chest, which was heaving substantially now. The pollen was taking full effect.

He put the glass pot down. He thought about sliding into you, your back arching in pleasure as he bottomed out in you. He felt his cock twitch and felt a little awkward. “You should probably just take my room to recover,” he said softly, watching you lay there, needy and probably very wet by this point. He licked his lips and tried to think of something else.

You raised your head to look up at him. Your pupils were dilated. He looked back. “Why’d you invite me here to do drugs if you’re not gonna do them with me?”

He shrugged, then grabbed a small metal container. He pulled out a joint.

“Ohmygosh. I did some heavy shit and you’re gonna smoke a jay?”

“Seems prudent,” he lit the joint. You watched him from hooded eyes. There was a slight pause in the conversation. You laid back down and put your hands over your face. Then you removed them, “Why am I here?” He looked at you, unsure what you meant. You clarified, “I mean, in your room.”

“To do drugs?”

”I mean. Why’d you invite me? If not to… be alone with me.”

“I don’t take your meaning.”

”I mean. Isn’t this really the perfect situation?” You inhaled, “You know?”

He shifted his weight and looked you up and down again. You rolled over onto your stomach and propped yourself up using his pillow. He watched your ass. He looked away and took a hit, feeling a bit like a predator. When he looked back, you had turned slightly and were watching him. You bit your lower lip and looked slowly from his eyes to his lips and back again. Boba inhaled, feeling his heartbeat increase.

“I didn’t plan this,” he felt defensive.

“No… but it’s working out nicely.” You continued to watch him, breathing hard. “I’m dying over here, you know…”

He exhaled slowly. “It should wear off in… several hours…”

”In the meantime, what’re we gonna do?” You spread your legs, a foot coming into contact with his side. You nudged him with it. He looked from it to you, feeling your toes dig into him. He put his hand on your foot. “You’ll regret me tomorrow,” he said quietly.

Your expression turned soft. “Why do you say that?”

He laughed, “We could not be more different.”

A heaviness hung in the air between the two of you. You looked down. “Boba, I…” you paused, still looking down. You snuck a look at him. He waited. “I’ve… liked you for a little bit now.” You turned away. Boba’s brow furrowed, “We don’t really know each other.”

”No, but we’re getting to know each other.”

His breathing was unsteady. He squeezed your foot and ran his hand up to the back of your knee. You moaned and spread your legs wider. He dropped the joint into the ashtray and crawled over the rest of his drug collection to you. He wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, partially resting his weight on you. He knew you could feel his erection against your leg. He waited, regretting his actions. You seemed to not respond, but he heard a low whine escape from your mouth. It aroused him and his hips thrust forward once unconsciously. You moaned then, “I want you to put that inside of me.”

Gritting his teeth, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your pants and pulled down. In no time your pants were on the floor. You fully spread your legs, revealing your soaked pussy to him. He groaned, looking at your glistening entrance, ready to be fucked. Boba lost control. He grabbed your body and flipped you onto your side, then pulled desperately at his clothing until his cock was freed. Without thinking, he shoved himself inside of you up to his balls. The wet heat of your pussy overwhelmed him; he grunted and stilled in you, trying to not cum immediately.

You called out in pleasure and rocked your hips slightly. “Fuck me, baby,” you begged breathily. Boba took you in his arms and started to thrust into you in short strokes. You moaned and begged for more. He picked up the pace, feeling the soft walls of your pussy drag across his cock. He stifled a moan in your shoulder, biting you instead. “Mmmm, I like that,” you cooed.

Emboldened, he fucked harder, licking and biting you again. Your body pushed back into his as he moved against you. He slid a hand up your shirt and cupped a breast gently before squeezing. Your moan made his heart beat even faster. He could feel himself tightening up, approaching orgasm. He could feel you were close too; your wet pussy was starting to clutch around him. He grunted again, his heart pounding and his mind racing. He couldn’t believe this was happening. You made a strangled sound, “Boba,” as you started to cum on him. He groaned and his mouth dropped slightly open as he fucked your spasming pussy. It had been a long time since he had been inside someone. He pulled out suddenly, almost cumming inside of you. He gasped his release, cock spurting cum and balls tight against his body. You whined, grinding onto him.

After a dazed moment, he slid his hand from your tit to your pussy. He plunged three fingers in and buried his head into the crook of your neck as he pleasured you. You moaned his name repeatedly, body squirming against his as he held you. Your voice was like honey to him, he loved the way his name sounded on your lips. You came again, pussy clamping down on his fingers. He praised you and kissed your neck as you moaned and bucked your hips.

“Fuck me again,” you moaned, sounding desperate. He wondered if he could, but noticed himself getting hard. You wasted no time and grabbed him, working him until he was fully erect. Then you turned over, and pushing on him, straddled him and took him inside yourself. You set an insane pace, bouncing up and down on him like he was paying. He grunted his surprise and pleasure, and his hands went to your hips to steady you.

You looked at him from hooded eyes, your mouth having fallen open. You had a slight sheen of sweat on your body. “I need you; will you fuck me on my back?” You asked. Without saying anything, he flipped over and pushed you into the mattress. He snapped his hips into you, setting a brutal pace, slamming his cock into you. He wanted to fuck you so good you’d want to come back for more. He already knew he wanted more.

You called out to him then, just his name over and over. He closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of your neck again, slamming his cock into you. Your hands scratched down his back as you got louder. You spread your legs obscenely, “I wanna feel you cum in me this time,” you panted the request. Boba’s body was more than willing to comply. Your words triggered in him a chain reaction that ripped through him. Before he could react, he was cumming in you, body stiff above you as he grunted his surprised release. Your pussy clutched around him, drawing the pleasure out and making it almost painful. He finally pulled out, breathing hard and feeling unsure.

“Baby you’re so good,” you said softly, hand going to his face. You cupped his cheek and pulled his face to yours. Before he knew it, he was kissing you on the mouth. Your lips were sweet and soft and he wondered about his own rough lips as they pressed against yours. After a moment you separated to catch your breath. Boba started to pull away, moving his clothing. You grabbed him and snuggled into his chest, a contented sigh leaving your body. “Will you stay?” You asked quietly. He haltingly wrapped his arms around you and relaxed into the bed. His chin rested on the top of your head.

“See I told you this was the perfect situation,” your voice was muffled. Boba’s lips curled into a small smile. He remembered what you had said earlier. “So… you… ‘like’ me?” He asked, feeling a bit silly. You nodded your head into his chest. He hugged you more tightly to himself. Your muffled voice asked, “Well…. Do you like me back?” He marveled at your ability to be so open. “I… yes,” He shut his mouth firmly. You sighed and slid an arm around him. He closed his eyes and inhaled your scent. He could get used to this.

[insomnishnik]

pairing : obsessive! dom eren x god complex reader *wink* *wonk*

rating : smut, 18+, fluff, crack (?)

wc : 53k

cw : degradation, choking, semi public sex, art student! eren, cockwarming, pussy spanking, mention of bruises and injuries, breeding kink ish, obsessive behavior, stalking, borderline yandere 😁 also pliz I'm new so if this bad lemme know

summary : at the very end of graduation, it's time to say goodbye, college is over, now off to the real world. But before the farewell, you as the student president arrange the one last time after party as a sweet goodbye message, little do you know eren have other plan.

“DO WE HAVE TO?” you murmured as Hitch pushed your back while both of stepping inside of a coffee shop. Fragrance of coffee bean, vanilla air freshener wafted to your nose, the comforting wooden minimalist arabica design greeted your eyes for its pleasing aesthetic scenery.

"Yes, we have to i mean how bad could it be?" she grinned, pulling your arm to her clutches while both of you scoured inside, "besides, the past must stay as the past, it was just a silly president election it's not like he would hold grudges against you for getting elected," she continued, referring to the big college event far ago before the senior year. 

That one time when you and Eren Jaeger applied to be the student council president, and like how history spoke, the winner rejoiced, and nobody really care about what happens next to the loser. It was a though fight, you were quite determined to take that core position with your persona, you believed that you could bring greater goods for the community, and you DID do good, but Eren fought back passionately, and you remembered you could see fire in his eyes during his speech at the debate election, he may not smart but he's clever, maybe a little aggressive but hell does he moved so many people's heart, you remembered when he was standing tall and brave on that podium while his sea green eyes glued the room together, the intimacy that is fiery and optimistic, but as the whole world know destiny said otherwise, without your own anticipation 

you won. 

And since then your reign begun. You rule well, you made plenty achievements as student president and you never been so proud of yourself, since then you never lose your dedication for your people, and the feel of being a victor, and oh how you loved the feel of being powerful. 

You and Hitch walked upstairs to the second loft of the coffee shop after you both ordered the drinks you wanted, "I dunno Hitch, i don't think that this is a good idea," you mumbled to the girl next to you, while you scratching the back of your ear, "when Armin said not to mess with Eren i think he meant it."

Sure you were delighted with your victory, but you still couldn't help yourself to feel bad for Eren, there's this strange tingle of guilt vine your stomach when you, the possessor approached your ex rival far a month ago, he gave you this bitter dirty look as you waved him a polite good morning, then he stormed off without a single word, you felt like he was prestige to look into your eyes since then. 

"And when i said he was a wuss, and a man child for going all off emo after that election i also meant it," Hitch rolled her eyes, she pat your back as a reassurance before you two finally found the person you've been looking for, almost unrecognizable from the last time you guys bumped to each other, for a moment your eyes widened to the now Eren Jaeger.

 There he was sitting all pretty at the smoking area, his hair was pulled onto a messy bun with a few loose strands on his nape, he was far more built than the boy you used to know, his bushy eyebrows looking furrowed to a sketchbook, the charcoal pencil he's holding dances on top of it. He was styled in a thin knitted black long sleeve top that hugged his muscular body tightly, army green cargo pants, and combat boots — you know, those kind of boots you wear to a rock concert just to kick someone — his rolled sleeves, revealing his veiny arms that covered with tattoos. His long legs is stretched to the chair next to him while he is leaning against the wall. 

Hitch glanced at you, she cackled noticing you googling at Eren, she pulled you by your wrist approaching the brunet, "you'll be fine," she snickered, while you could only let out a soft sigh, here goes nothing. 

Hitch signal her presence to Eren with a light cough, a small thud hit the surface of his sketchbook after he dropped his pencil. His gaze shifts to both of you who were standing by his side, he raised his left brow when his eyes met yours, you stared back at Eren and he outstared you blankly, "Jaeger," you hesitated. 

About time you finally came to me.

"Y/N," he replied, calling you by your first name. His expression never change, they're rather cold, unimpressed, he studied both of you, then back to you, he lift his chin up as he locked his eyes on you, "you brought a friend." Intruder, he finally said after a brief silence, Eren closed his sketchbook and then cracked his knuckles, Hitch pulled you, taking a seat in front of Eren. 

"Now let's skip the chit chat, because by the way Eren, you smells musty," Hitch waved her hand in front of her face, she's not wrong though, he smells like tobacco and axe body spray. Furthermore when Hitch explained the reasons of hers and yours arrival to Eren, his gaze never really left you, sometimes he would spare Hitch small glances and nods as confirmation of himself still listening, but his attention was on you. 

And you willingly stares back, you still couldn't read his expression, they're as calm as the morning blue sky, they're just so empty it sucks you in, maybe it's the blunt hatred and envy from him for your presidential position, or maybe it was something else, you even almost think that you two are basically eye fucking each other. 

You extended him the proposal and the selected material details to him, it's almost graduation, and you're running out of time to find someone who could make an exclusive design for the jackets you are planning to make as a gift for the after party event. The other councilor members and you also haven't decide the theme yet, it has to be perfect. Your last hope is Eren, the fine arts student all the girls in school droll over, even though his charisma was slightly dimmed after his loss at the election, he still got his charm, and you really prayed to Goddess Fortuna because you don't want to risk looking for someone else to customize this specific special item and just to get disappoint by the erratic result, at least when Eren agree to take the work, someone could watch over.

"No fucking way," Eren let out a smug chortled, "the president needs my help," he added in a sneering tone. Cute. 

"So you agree or not Eren," you try to suppress your nerve, and you really try not to punch his cocky face, the way he throw his head back a little so he gave you this kind of kubrick stare, gazing into your soul as if he wants to eat you alive, and just like they said, if looks could kill, you're probably be ripped apart by now. 

"What if i say no?" he continued, tapping his boot's toe on the wooden floor. 

"You'll waste your talent," you gift a thin smile that hides a very big urge to stab him repeatedly. 

Eren chuckled, he looked away towards the window before he lean forward to you, "What happen to the other art students, L/N? Did they finally acknowledge your overly perfectionist bossy self or what?" 

"And what about it?" you argued, leaning to his face, he wanted to humiliate you, he wanted you to get on your knees and beg, but you still have your dignity. 

"Uh, what is this," Hitch hesitated, "i am highly uncomfortable with the atmosphere we created in this room," what's with the eye fucking? Hitch thought, she felt like she's interrupting a really heated make out session but instead of kissing it was exchanging pure hatred, Hitch nudged you by your elbow, giving you a look. 

You gritted your teeth and pursed your lips together, leaning closer to Eren's face, "Alright, if this is about that stupid president election we had together grow up Eren! The world doesn't evolve in your stupid drama queen head, so please since i'm asking you nicely before i could fu-" You stopped your bust as a waitress came over with the drinks you ordered earlier, you glared angrily at Eren as you caught a tug of amused smirk at the corner of his lips, it was the fact that you desperately needs his help but still play all bitchy, he found it funny. 

Sure you have your dignity, and he is willing to destroy it just because he can.

After the waitress left, you tasted your fresh latte angrily, making Eren chuckled under his husky breath, while on the other side Hitch is silently witnessing the tense between you two. 

"Fine," Eren broke the silence after a few minutes since the waitress left, "i'll take the work." he sat up, you nodded and watched as that key necklace of his dangling out from his collar, and when your eyes laid on the toned chest that peaking under his shirt, you gulped your saliva and quickly looked away, "good, thank you for your understanding."

You clasps your hands together and you could hear Hitch's faint sigh of relief, "great so now i think we have our deal, you know Professor Levi's tea shop right? tomorrow we're doing a gathering, be there before 8, and if-" 

who says that i'm finished doll? Eren tug another smirk, "but with some condition."

⊱✿⊰

"For real? No party organizer available until next January?" you groaned in frustration, frantically flipping through pages of your journal, Hitch and Armin walks by your side to the long table area.

Chaos. 

Chaos everywhere, you feel like your head is going to explode, your blood boils, and there's this uncomfortable anxiety under your skin, crippling under you and devouring you slowly. You've been overworked yourself the entire night after your meeting with Eren, you were brainstorming for your graduation speech, activity recap, and of course other ornaments for the very last project you're having in your senior year, you cried for three hours while listening to montgomery ricky then cried again over the document you accidentally deleted. 

You're exhausted.

Mentally and physically, you woke up with puffy eyes and wrecked brain, but you knew that everything must go on, and no, you won't back down, everything has to be perfect, 

It has to be perfect. 

Hitch pouted as she watches you typing on your laptop, she snakes her arms around your waist and leaned her head against your shoulder, watching you making some kind of budget recap, "sweetie you should rest and lay down." She spoke with a soft smile. 

You pursed your lips together before you leaned your head on top of hers, not leaving your eyes from your laptop, "thanks Hitch, but i'm alright, i'll just finish this and i'll take a break for a bit." You just can't really trust anything without yourself being under control or watching over, you're afraid that everything would astray far from your definition of 'perfection,' this empire you've been building, and this is your last legacy the next generation will remember, and you wanted it to be remarkable. 

"No dumbass, the last catering service was too expensive and apparently our university was filled with cheapskates." argued a voice from across the room.

"Well we have no choice???" other voice argued back, "Or we can rely on your very bad cooking skill Kirstein, just pray nobody's gonna die from food poisoning." 

You huffed at the sight of Ymir and Jean who was sitting face to face on the floor, both are on their phone scrolling on google, you looked around and found Sasha, Marco and Connie, chatting across you, and you looked over to the three people next to you, your vice president Hitch, your treasurer Armin, and your secretary Mikasa. You couldn't help yourself but smiling at your team, they works so well. 

Then you frowned as your realized something, "Have Eren-" 

A short blonde girl with a tray of drinks and snacks entered the room, "Y'all snack time!" she called out with a large grin on her face.

Ymir's face lit up as she walked up to her girlfriend, Sasha sprinted towards Historia, going feral over food as usual. 

"Ugh finally," you chuckled to Jean's mumble. Soon, half of the room crowded the blonde girl, reaching for snacks and drinks, your eyes fixated as you slowly notice the presence of the familiar sea green eyes, you watches as Eren strolls inside of the meeting room, he yawned before he took a seat on Hitch's place, your frowned slightly, "excuse you?" 

"Excuse me?" he replied, plastering that damn cocky smile, he looked to you up and down, definitely mocking you under his degrading gaze, dammit y/n did you overworked yourself?

"Well have you look at yourself, President." he snickered, suddenly a sketch design laid in front of you, you shift your eyes to Eren, before you took the papers on your hands. Soft grazes of colored pencil and ink, the art was delicate yet firm, "what is this?" you asked dumbly to the design of two bomber jackets, each of the jackets has their own scrawled side notes of the color details, embroidery, and even fabric material.

"Both jacket will be make from satin, no argument, satin," Eren spoke, he pointed his polished finger nail to the design, "the girls will have the yellow one, the boys will take the red, it'll have our Uni symbol and our number," he explained, "should be ready as soon as possible," Eren watches you closely, waiting for you to say something. Part of him.....just wants you to react, just anything, just any reaction exclusively for him. 

You blinked slowly, wow. Honestly it's beautiful, looks like it was Harajuku style inspired, you can't wait to touch the final craft, you glanced at Eren, "thank you," you spoke finally, "it's really beautiful."

I'm glad you like it. "Of course it's beautiful, i made it," he replied with a smug face, he cracked his knuckles then tapped his fingers to the wooden table, "now now, what do we have here." 

It was part of Eren's condition. One, he wanted to be fully involved in the graduation ceremony prep and the after party. Two, most importantly nobody touch his creation while he have full control of it, you reluctantly gave him the responsiblity to handle the venue decoration and the theme, most of the people in your team weren't really pleased with that decision, but like you all have time to think? But after considering it, you felt like it would be good idea to have extra hands helping. 

Anything,

To reach the absolute perfection.

⊱✿⊰

"I'm so glad, that this is almost over, because i could not bear drinking another monster and espresso or i might get caffeine intoxication," you grinned as you earned chuckles through the dinner table, it was all paid off, and the grand event was right in front of your eyes, you could already imagine yourself standing on that podium, delivering your grand speech, high and god like.

But now, celebration first. 

The admiration looks from your team and the last year student council team — who decided to join for the gig — feeds your ego, there's Zeke, Nicolo, Reiner, Pieck and her girlfriend Yelena, Porco and Bertholdt. Your friends really look up to you, from the day you earned your position, they knew they could count on you. "Thank you, thank you for all of the hard works this season, i would never ask for a better team, you guys are the best that i could ever wished for," you grinned and picked up the can of beer from the table, everybody raises their drinks, and you looked at the edge of the table, where your graduated senior, Zeke Jaeger sitting down, giving you a proud look, he was a student president before you, "this is for everyone, our community has never been this great, because you all dedicated your hearts." As you cheers together, you looked around, something is missing, you can feel it, yet you can't find any solid answer for that feeling. 

It was a simple outdoor Korean barbecue party in your house's backyard, after all done, you wanted nothing but to treat your friends, because that's what they deserved for serving you right. It was returning favor, while waiting for the meat to be cook perfectly by your senior Nicolo, you sat besides Mikasa as you both chats, while Armin was next to her, busy with his phone. In the distance, chaotic guitar strums and jams from drunk Connie and Jean cracking the air together with everyone that hyping them up. You pressed your chin against Mikasa's shoulder while both of you giggling over a twitter thread. 

"Eren said he's coming over," Armin announced to both of you, he looked down to his phone and let out a heavy sigh. 

So that was the missing piece. 

"Why's the sigh?" you asked Armin.

Armin hesitated, he looked around everywhere that isn't you, he rubbed his hand through his undercut, it feels like watching someone having a very conflicted mind war with themself, he then finally impaled you with a mixed expression, "Y/N," he started, "i don't know how to say this but....." He glanced over at Mikasa, and you followed him. 

The dark haired girl rather gave him a surprised expression, a some kind of you did not! look. You exchanged the utterly confusion to both of them, Mikasa nodded slowly, "She needs to know, Armin." 

"I need to know what?" 

"What are you guys talking about?" you turned around and sees Eren standing right in front of you, bruised up and bleeding, his knuckles was fucked in a shade of dark red and purple, strands of hair falling in front of his face, Mikasa quickly stood up, "Eren did you—"

"Yes i did," he shot her a cold glare, you could see from the corner of your eyes that Zeke started to approaching, Eren's eyes then finally found Armin, who's looking scared and nervous more than ever, "tell me, what's the interesting story Armin?" his tone was striking and icy, under his husky voice, you could track hints of slurs because of alcohol. 

Armin went quiet, he gripped his knuckles, what is this? something must happened and you didn't know, and you hated that. You hated when things was out of your reach. "It's okay Eren, you should check your wounds, they look pretty bad," Armin swallowed, his words came out more threatening than he anticipated. 

"No, no, no, i wanted to know what you gonna say to Y/N," Eren moves closer to Armin, "you are not trying to tell her anything bad about me right?" 

They looked like they're ready to throw hands, but Zeke was already slips between them, holding the both boys's chests with his flat palms, "come on now guys, let's not." he hesitated.

"No, let's." Eren insisted, he slapped his brother's hand, you quickly pulled him down by his arm, he flinched when he felt your touch, Eren glance at you, and for a split second his eyes went soft, it was that soft that you felt nothing but pure affection from his sea green eyes, then something took over his body, he suddenly pulled you by your collar, lifting you up, moving your face closer to his.

His eyes were bloodshot, you squeezed his wrists while kicking your feet on the air, "you," he growled, his warm breath smells like alcohol, you blinked slowly, scanning Eren's animalistic glare, but there is no hate in his eyes, you found yourself trying to look for it but there it none, instead there's this raging desire, he looked at you like you were his prey, "Eren-" you choked, for the first time, you feel powerless.

"I hate you," he hissed, but all you could sense was lie, his mortal fingers squeezing you so deadly but you feel the comfort of it, the bizarrely embracing lust, and his existence blurs all the noises around you, just you and Eren Jaeger. "you took everything from you," he continued, "i woke up everyday wishing you dead." 

You knitted your eyebrows, and you feel your godly ichor rushes back through your veins, a disgusted smirk appeared on your face, belittling him for lying, "liar." 

Then huge arms pulled Eren from you, tackling him to the ground, Mikasa caught you before you hit the ground, Hitch stepped in front of you, shielding you from Eren who was struggling under Zeke, "Eren what the hell!" she shouted. Mikasa helped you up and pulled you close to her chest, "Y/N are you okay?" she sounded so scared, questions and assumptions popping in your head about what happens between Mikasa, Armin, and Eren. You looked up, finding Reiner helping Zeke restraining his own brother. You knew a minute ago that guy attacked you, but seeing Eren in that position just feels so wrong, you never thought you'll get drew by a guy like Eren Jaeger, but here you are finding yourself shoving aside your pride while approaching the two blonds. You put your hand on Zeke's shoulder, squeezing them gently, "it's okay," your delicate tone shocks him, "let him go Zeke." 

You could feel everyone giving you a jaw drop, but when all eyes on you, you find yourself only looking at Eren. 

After a tense moment, Zeke and Reiner finally let go of the brunet, you pulled Eren up then you put the tip of your fingers to his chin, examining his wounds, he scoffed and avoided your eyes, dropping his eyes to the ground. "Let's get that clean up," you mumbled and dragged him by his hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. Leaving everyone in a ambiguous silence. 

"Why are they leaving? the wagyu is ready."

You walked upstairs to your room, no words exchange both of you before you finally entered the bathroom with Eren, you let go of his hand, your heartbeat strangely skipping inside your chest, while you were searching for the medicine kit in the cabinet, when you finally turn around, you found Eren already sitting on the toilet seat, you kneeled down in front of him and you opened the medicine kit, you pulled a towel from the drawer and stood up, wetting it in the sink, "what happen?" you finally spoke. 

Eren let out a deep chuckle, he wiped his bloody nose with his thumb then wiped it off on his jeans, gross. "Why do you care," he asserted. 

You rolled your eyes and kneeled back in front of him, with dripping wet cloth on your right hand, "please you stormed on me, lifted me up and looked at me like you wanted fuck me against the table while also wanted to burn me alive at the same time." you gave him a judging look. You took his hands, and then slowly pressed the dampen cloth on his bloody knuckles, he didn't flinch, Eren remained silence while he watches you. You could feel his smirk while you were treating his wounds. "Have i told you how hideous you look tonight?" he asked quietly. 

"No, tell me." 

Eren then moved his left hand away from you, extending them, he caressed his thumb on your cheekbone, made you froze, his hand then traveled to your ear, it tugged your hair behind them, "i cannot." He whispered softly. 

You looked up, and put the now reddish cloth on the floor, you moved closer to the burnet in front of you, you intertwined your fingers with his once again, the tense on his shoulders visibly relax while his pupils widened to the presence of you, "now would you tell me what happen?" your voice sweetened, melodic in his ear, and it seems like he's lured enough by it. 

Eren huffed a chuckle, he looked down to both of your hands, "Had a fight with Pops," he shrugged, "took the anger on the wall." You moved closer to his face, close enough to smell the liquor in his breath. Eren stared at you, he never imagine he would have the blessing to be this close with you, he was always watching you from afar. Those interrogation towards Armin regarding you, questions after questions on your personal life, forcing Armin to dug deeper and helped Eren fulfilling his needs on you, he'd followed you after school, to your favorite coffee shop, your home so he'll know your address, to where ever he could reach you, man... he'll go after you to the edge of the world if that's where you're heading. 

"Do you still hate me?" you asked, and to be honest the question kind of scares you, because after these past few weeks of spending more time with Eren Jaeger, you finally caught in his fire, his flaming intimacy you thought was long gone, and you also surprises yourself for not getting pissed off by the feeling, because it makes you feel vulnerable. 

Eren grazes his thumb on your jaw as if you were made of glass, he kneeled down to the floor with you, so you both could be equal, no high ground. "The truth is my darling, i never was," he confirmed, "after you won that election it was my last straw because from the first time i laid my eyes on you, Love.... You have bewitched me body and soul," he's been watching over you from the distance and you still as pathetic as he could remember, maybe it's the way you stole glances at him, the way you would secretly checking him out but little did you know that he notices everything, he's been reading you like an open book without having to flip through every pages, because you already spread open for him, "you have became the very thing that is out of my reach, Love. And for i have fancy you, and you'll be mine not just in my mind but fully," and he is itching to taste you. His warmth envelopes you to a sense of safety, he trails his hands to your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you melt like a candle on fire. Right above you stand an entity greater than yourself, the essence of mystery that fold itself in front of you, and with the universe speak between you, everything is a clarity. 

And you, you don't get it, you thought it was all envy to the position you have, and for the first time, you crave something other than power, "Did you just quoted Pride and Prejudice for me, Jaeger?" you snakes your arms around his neck while his growing bulge strokes on your clothed cunt, the rough material of his jeans made your arousal grow thicker, "my, my, my i used to think that you were just a pretty face with zero common sense," you teased, nuzzling your nose against him. 

His husky chuckle vibrates against your skin, without warning he pushes you up against the wall and you immediately jumped onto his waist with your legs, you gasped as your back hit the cold surface, Eren kneading your butt cheeks as he was holding you up, his chest pressed on yours, warm breath mixes together, "ouch, did you just call me dumb?" you snickered, Eren tilts his head before he smirked, "maybe we could be equally dumb after i make you babble nonsense with my cock." His mouth devouring yours feverishly. Frantic gestures rid you and him of clothes on your body, while you helped Eren unbuckling his belt, his teeth grazes yours, tongues fighting for dominance with each other, he latched his lips onto yours, hungry for more taste, you started to sucking his bottom lip while Eren savor your taste, he pushes more for a deeper kiss, his hand fondling your clothed boob, then it slipped under them, as he found your stiffened nipple, you felt his smirk between your kiss, and a moan escaped from your lips, they're already swollen and you knew you needed air soon, but without your realizing, you already breath through his air through the kiss. 

You unhooked your bra while Eren pressed you harder against the wall, his cock was already free from his jeans and boxer, his beautiful tip was coated in precum, when you finally exposed your breasts in front of him, the animalistic side possessed him back, Eren kneads your breasts greedily causing you to mewl, shivers running down your spine, and you unconsciously grinds you drenched cunt against his waist, Eren cackled. 

"What a fucking whore, you looked like a cat in heat." 

You whined when his flat palm hit your cunt, he rubs the dampen clothed surface of your clit, Eren brought his mouth to your breast and started to circling his tongue on your nipple, making your back arched and you grinding to nothingness of his waist, "whore," he spat, a string of saliva bridge between your skin and his lips, "is this what you called a student president? i don't think so." Eren grip your throat and slowly adding pressure to your air circulation with his index finger and thumb, his other hand has been stroking his own cock for awhile, he uses his precum as lube and your eyes twinkled to the beautiful sight. 

Your lips parted, he let out a throaty groan to your ear just to tease you, "what if i just jack myself and leave you like this?" the menacing grin appeared on his face, your desperate look just pleased him even more, he groaned under his breath as he feeling himself twitching, and your drooling pussy just looking tastier than ever, Eren inhaled and faked a pout, "aw, what is it? don't you want to walk around with my cum dripping from your slutty hole aren't you? that is sinful my Love, won't it gonna stain your pride, Miss President?" 

You cursed under you breath, and another slap landed on your cunt, you threw your head back as Eren squeezed you against the wall, "nu uh, bad words," he growled, "what do you want, Y/N? Use your fucking mouth if you want something, did your parents never tell you?" another hard slap on your cunt made you gasp, you cried louder, and Eren shushed you while peppering kiss on your naked shoulder, "careful darling they might hear you from downstairs." 

He pecked your nose before he finally aims his cock to your entrance, stroking his tip to your dripping cunt, "what do you want, Y/N? say it." He repeated.

"Your cock!" you whimpered, "please pound me with your cock.... please Eren.. i just want it inside.."

He slammed into you, causing you to let out a sharp noise, "Oh, like this?" Eren felt your soft warm walls hugging him so tightly, as if you guys just fit so perfectly together, he held his hand on your tummy to prevent you from grinding your greedy self, letting your cunt clenching him by itself, "fuck you're so tight my Love," he groaned subtly. 

"E-eren please move..... i'm begging you...." you sobbed so pathetically. Eren moved his face close to yours and pinned your wrists above your head, "this will need an outcome don't you think?" he tilted his head, making you wept for his cock to move even more, suddenly an idea popped in his head, "I will move," he said, "i'll shoot my loads in you and then you'll be mine, i want you to want me so badly, i'm going to imprison you, and then.... just then...it'll be just you and me, always and forever," he dug his face on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent so they'll stay in his head, but he knew it won't, you're his own personal drug anyways, "promise, Darling?" Eren whispered against your skin.

You shivered under him, your eyes rolls at the back of your head, your pussy is aching with lust, so needy for his cock. You quickly nodded your head, "p-promise." 

Eren kissed your neck, sucking them briefly, leaving a visible mark on your soft skin, "good girl."

He pulled his cock from you, leaving just the tip, before then he impaled, filling you up with his length, he slide so easily onto your meat, your legs shivered as he endlessly pushed deeper inside you, and you could feel his tip kissed your cervix, Eren then started to moves at a quick pace, "you like that so much hm? taking my cock like a little slut," he said velvety, turning you on even more. He buried your moan into a deep kiss, his big arm scoot your hips close to him as he ramming his cock with no mercy onto your walls, his other hand still pinning your wrists, as if you're gonna escape from him. You started to rolling your hips on him, making him move more faster, you're both skin to skin, grinding onto each other desperately, "Eren....s'big...so deep..." you moaned. He continues to pound into you.

"Fuck, that's right baby say my name."

"Eren!"

After a minute he completely stopped, you opened your eyes and your face shows confusion, before you could ask any questions, he suddenly slams all of his length into you, causing you to yelp both in pain and pleasure, the lewd sound of skin slapping made you curl your toes, he pounding into you like there's no tomorrow, you threw your head back, your tongue lolling out from your lips, he slamming all his length in and out of you repeatedly until you're a shaking panting mess, an amused look plastered on his cocky face, and his hips didn't stop dipping on you, not letting you think straight or put up any fight, "come on, fucking take it like the cumslut you are."

You choked on your breath as the knot in your stomach getting tighter, "E-ren... hugs...hugs....?" you purred to him, he finally let go of your wrists and let your head fell against his shoulder, he increases his phase that you didn't know was possible, you warped your arms around him as he did to you, and you dragged your nails through his sweaty back, Eren started to whisper sweet nothings as he felt himself twitching, he slurred curses underneath his groaned, his veins popped as he gripped you tightly, his muscles flexes at each moves.

You didn't dare to question him when he said that he'll fill you up inside, because no matter what your answer is, he'll do it anyway. The sight of his hard rock abs and v lines sent you over the edge, “Eren i’m gonna cum—“

“cum with me, Darling.” 

You tasted the bitter tint in your tongue as you started seeing stars, you vision went black as Eren rides you to your orgasm while fluid started dripping down your thighs, your body is shaking uncontrollably, Eren let out a loud groan as he riding himself to his own high using your abused cunt, he shot his warm thick load onto your womb, making sure you take all of it, you buried your face on his neck, he slowly pulls out his cock and watches the white liquid oozing from your hole. Eren lifted up your chin, he cupped your cheek and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, mixing your pants together, “mine.” he moaned to your soft plump lips.

“yours."

⊱✿⊰

[lady-o-ren]

MOONSTRUCK

CHAPTER ONE// CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE (Ao3 Link HERE)

Claire kicks and thrashes and screams.

  Her stocking feet skid along the blanket she's tangled in as she struggles to stand.

  But just as she gathers her footing she hears a pitiful sound that grips her by the cask of bones that surround her heart making her turn around.

  The wretch who'd been mouthing at her breasts was hunched over now but no longer bare as Adam. In one hand he tightly clasps her woolen blanket against his middle, the other at his right shoulder where the bones protrude at an odd and painful angle.

Just like -

  But it couldn't be. . .

From beneath a wild mane of vibrant crimson curls peeks eyes blue as highland skies that delve deeply into hers with startling familiarity, raising the fine hairs along her arms and neck, her breath to catch inside her throat when he speaks.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten ye, lass,” he says with shaky breath. “I only meant to share my warmth wi' ye, for all ye di’ for me. And I was supposed to wake before sunrise, was so sure that I could . . ."

  His voice breaks off as he shakes his head and looks to the floor, unsure of what more to say, finding words useless to explain.

  But in a bewildered hush, it's Claire who finds the words he's struggling to convey.

  “It really is you, isn't it?" She says. “From the woods. The tracks I followed. Here beside me you laid." Claire swallows thickly. “You're the bloody damn wolf.”

  The once red wolf cracks a haggard half grin, meeting her eye.

  “Aye. Bloody and broken, maybe flea bitten too.” 

  The corner of her mouth helplessly twitches at his unexpected joke but then she watches as he clenches his jaw and drops his head, large knuckles going white where they dig into his bruised violet-black skin as a spasm rips through him.

  Claire's already moving and reaching for him before she catches herself.

  “You won't hurt me, will you?” 

  He manages to glance down at himself and back at her with a raised and amused brow that makes her feel rather silly considering all they've been through in their short time together.

  “If I wanted to lass I would've done so when I had the teeth for it. As I am, ye could skelp me wi’ a feather. Though ye've done a braw job wi' just yer wee fists and feet.”

  The wolfman means it lightly (even as he's still seeing stars from her bashing) but Claire sees every bruise inflicted on his body, courtesy of the bear and now herself, and the green patches of the salve she applied now smeared across him where the gashes look so much larger than they did in his other form.

  “I'm sorry," she utters quietly, and tentatively reaches a hand to brush his curls from his brow and cup his stubbled cheek. "The last thing you needed was another thrashing.” 

  He softly nuzzles against her palm like the wolf he once was and lets out a hefty sigh that makes his ribs sting, but his eyes are as gentle as the tender kiss he bestowed upon her cheek in the night by the fire and gives her a reassuring lopsided smile.

  “As long as ye set my shoulder for me I'll call us even, and I do beg ye so, a nighean.”

  She nods, eyes a little glossy, as she thumbs his cheek. "Of course." 

  And soon enough he's breaking out in a cold anxious sweat, trembling and grimacing when all the lass does is position his arm with a hand at his wrist and the other below, cupping his elbow. 

  “Breathe,” Claire softly encourages, soothing her thumb to the inside of his wrist where his pulse is jumping like a hare, knowing how painful the injury must be having been left for hours to swell. 

  When she's assured he won't faint on her, she says -

  "Now this is the worst part. Ready?”

  The wolfman nods and grits his white teeth to his bottom lip, nostrils flaring as he takes a deep fortifying breath. As does Claire.

  "Alright then," she says, and counts to three, whipping the heavy mass of his arm upward and in where the joint gives a soft, crunching " pop !" settling back into place. 

  “A Dhia!” He sharply gasps with amazement, putting an unbelieving hand up to explore. "It doesn'a hurt anymore!" 

  "It will," Claire warns, huffing a little at the exertion (The lad was built like solid oakwood kissed to life!), and tugs at the neck of her chemise back in place. "And I'll need to wrap your arm in a sling to keep it from jostling about with God knows what. Then there's the rest of you to take care of . . ." Her eyes sweep across the whole of him, meaning to assess whatever injuries she may have missed, but instead they land on the ruddy dark thatch peeking between his thighs where his coverings had considerably slipped.

Jesus H. Christ . . .

Claire averts her eyes but it's too late, the wolfman's caught her staring, and both their faces go spectacularly aflame.

  "Christ!” 

  "I'm sorry! I - I didn't mean to stare. I -"

  "Forgive me! I shoulda clothed m'self the second -

  " - I didn't see a  - Wait . . ." Claire says abruptly. "You have clothes?" She points.

  “Of course!” He says, the woolly blanket now up to his grizzled chin. “Do ye think I walk around bare arsed like a bairn?”

  Imagining just that (which was very easy to do for she had seen everything by now), Claire feels the heat burning her cheeks travel down to the peak of her breasts and places a hand to her heart galloping beneath.

  "I haven't been able to think properly since we met,” she breathes.

  “Nor have I. . .” Murmurs the wolfman. And they share a gaze full of wonder as if it were the other who had stumbled from the pages of a fairytale.

  "Yer name, tell me, please?" He suddenly asks.

  "Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp," she answers, rather breathlessly. "And yours?" 

  Terribly sheepish, he pointedly replies - “James. Alexander. Malcolm. Mackenzie. Fraser.”

  And all heart-racing tension loses its hold on Claire as she breaks into the bonniest laugh the lad has ever heard.

  "I'm sorry," she says, curls bouncing like sprites around her face from laughter (and speckled quite prettily with bramble, admires Jamie). "But that's a horrible name for a wolf.”

  He chuckles along too and shrugs with his good shoulder.

  "Then Jamie will have to do. Aye, Sassenach ?”

  The jab at her Englishness is said as fondly as an endearment, warming her to a sweeter glow.

  "Alright then, Jamie - Half man, half wolf, which you still need to explain by the way - Where are these clothes of yours?"

  He cocks his red head to the window, the light growing and making his hair catch like a spark of kindling. "Out there. I'll fetch them. And in the meantime . . ." He doesn't quite meet her eye. "Ye can dress as well, Sassenach.”

  It's Claire's turn to look down at herself, at the embroidered chemise she wears. It was meant for a honeymoon, a lifetime ago it seemed, and may just be sheer enough to see her skin blushing the color of an evening rose beneath the loose fabric.

  She folds her arms over her chest, feeling bare as Eve, and says with hot breath - "Of course." 

//

However, before either can make themselves a bit more decent, Claire rips the last shreds of her wedding gown and wraps it carefully around Jamie's waist, saving the last bit for a makeshift sling. And Jamie tries not to laugh at each savage swear she bites off when the bandages unravel between her fingertips.

   Tries to keep his gaze forward and away from where her chemise keeps slipping off the smooth curve of her shoulders, down the white valley between her breasts.

  Feels a heart heavy guilt at the bruisings he sees that he hadn't been able to prevent.

   Once he's thoroughly taken care of, they head outside with Claire donned in her stained cloak and Jamie still blanketed in wool. The morning wind is brisk but the sun is bright as a marigold and warm as an embrace, and whatever snow that had managed to stick to the ground during the night has melted, leaving only thin patches of sparkling white.

  "What were you doing out here anyway?" She asks, as Jamie leads her to the edge of the woods where the trees sprawled wild. He's a giant of a man compared to most with long muscular legs that propel him up the hill with surprising grace for what he's been through, forcing Claire to quicken her step just to keep up.

  "Digging," he deadpans.

  "For what?" Claire prods, before realizing he's teasing her when his mouth curls into a crooked grin, softening his features rather beautifully, she embarrassingly thinks. 

  "I was gathering some wood to spend the night in the auld crofter house when I heard gunfire and - Och! here they are."

  He stops when he finds his things draped in the crook of a tree and untouched by snow to his great relief. It was getting rather chilly betwixt his legs.

  "And then?" 

  Jamie hesitates for a moment with a queer expression ghosting his face.

  "I felt my heart's blood leave me when I heard ye scream like yers was being torn right from your chest. I thought the worst. Then the moon broke out from the clouds and . . . Weel . . . ye ken the rest." He awkwardly shrugs and shakes out his sark.

  "No. I don't," says Claire, laying a hand over his covered forearm, her touch no longer tentative. "It's not everyday that I meet a man who's willing to risk his life to save mine. Even more miraculous that he can somehow shift his form from man to wolf and then back again to lay stark naked atop me."

  "There's nothing miraculous about it," he grimly replies. " I'm bound to the moon and this creature I become, but once the day breaks out across the sky I'm back to being me, just as I am. For better or worse." 

  The last is said with shame that drowns the color of his eyes, compelling Claire to draw nearer, her hand moving to his breast where the pain resides and he envelopes it with his own.

  Jamie takes a heartening breath.

  "For the waking, I beg ye again to believe me that I meant no harm to ye. Truly. And as for saving ye . . ."

  That same big hand reaches to softly caress her face and brush his thumb against her brow, where the bump from her tumble through the dirt had swollen a shade of violet. 

  "Brave wee thing," he whispers." I'm sorry for not getting to ye sooner." And without thought, Jamie brings his mouth to her brow, bestowing a kiss with a hot, light swipe of his tongue.

  Claire's eyes go wide with a gasp and Jamie looks absolutely baffled at what he's just done. He moves himself away from her, looking flustered at the ground.

  "I-I'm sorry, Sassenach. A wolf's instinct. Sometimes it stays with me even after -" he gestures with an aimless flick of his hand, babbling without care for sense. "Ye  ken I sometimes see a rabbit and have a need to fall on all fours and chase it? Cheeties too. Right up the tree."

  "How about howling at the moon?"  Claire interrupts, even as she's still reeling from his kiss, sudden as a spring rain, yet she can't find it in herself to be offended. Instead she grins, a hand clasped to her brow, as her heartbeat flutters a nonsensical rhythm, more pronounced than even on her wedding day.

   Jamie's shoulders sag in relief.

   "Every night, a nighean. I'd make yer ears ring." 

  Then before he can make an even bigger fool of himself ( Eejit ! will ye lick her lips next?!), Jamie tells her to go back to the crofter house, for he needed to dress.

  Claire protests. He can't possibly use his arm. But Jamie assures her he can and will. 

  "I'll take the risk to keep what little dignity I have, if ye please."

  So with a sigh, down the grassy hill Claire goes and quickly Jamie dresses, his senses on edge being out in the daylight where anyone could see him. 

  Man or beast he was worth more dead than alive.

  Down below, Claire tends to Caspian, crotchety as an old mule. He's hungry and nearly chomps at her fingers when she leads him out to graze for a bit behind the house when she sees a flash of red off in the distance.

  She squints her eyes. A redcoat. Maybe a scout, she thinks and tugs hard on Caspian's reins to pull him back before they're seen.

  "Of all the sodding things for him to do," she fumes, turning the corner.

  "Ye ken the man?" 

  Claire jumps at Jamie's voice. Gruff and a little husky. He must've run to her.

  "No," she replies, looking him over. He's dressed now from stock to coat, down to trouser and leather boots, but hisfeatures are as dark as when he savaged the bear. "But I'm sure Frank has something to do with it." 

  "Who's  Frank?" 

 Claire's mouth presses into a thin, hard line. "My fiancé. Former  fiancé ," she huffs cuttingly. 

  "He's a redcoat?" His brow furrows.

  She shakes her head. "No, Frank's a teacher. His brother, John, is the soldier. Black Jack, I think you Scots call him." She peers from the side of the house. "I didn't think he'd care enough to send a search party for me."

  Over her shoulder she hears what can only be described as a thoroughly Scottish sound.

  "Ye're coming wi' me, Sassenach," he says firmly, desperately almost.

  "What?" She turns back startled.

  Jamie tries to grab the reins from her hands but she holds them fiercely tight as a sharp trickle of fear and fury runs down her spine.

  "Are you kidnapping me?!" 

  "No!" He says, but then in a softer tone repeats himself." No. Never. But  I'm a Scot and yer an English lass, in nothing but her shift. Now unless ye think yon kinsmen has an understanding -"

  Claire presses her hand to his mouth.

  "Say no more. The scouts brought company."

  And off they go.

//

A/N: Excuse all the mistakes please.

I've had a chunk of this written for awhile but the second part was written in an anxious rush (maybe I'll fix it up later). My Grandma is in the hospital (not covid related) and everything has been just touch and go for nearly two weeks. My own personal health is at its worst too. So I can't say when or if there will be an update but I hope what's here is good enough to read.

Thank you all for your encouragement and kindness to me! You don't know how much I appreciate this crazy ass writing space that's been my only positive (as much as it frustrates me to figure out how to write).

*For Jamie's shoulder scene I used the book as a reference and kinda mashed some sentences together.

[lupically]

#3B797A | XIAO.

genre | angst

word count | 1707

warning | mention of death, mention of blood, faint mention of injury

note | this was originally posted on my other writing blog, i am moving it here because... well, i have a genshin writing blog now. and, once again, this is not very good. let’s hope i get better at this!

if karmic debt is a real thing, this must be xiao’s worst one yet.

he swore he would keep an eye on you after the first time you died on him.

he has never felt anguish like it.

of all the invisible chains tied around his struggling limbs and his fragile neck, of all the pain and misery he has been put through over the years of his catastrophic life, of all the repressed memories and emotions he kept fighting back to keep his sanity at bay, he has never felt anguish and manic like he did when he saw your lifeless body on the ground with an arrow stuck to your back.

it was the worst one yet, especially when he was the reason why you ended up with a bed of bloody roses underneath you.

he swore he would keep an eye on you after that.

and then came the second time you died. that was also because of him.

the blood that trickled down your lips as you smiled at him was vivid in his memories. he was supposed to be fond of the way you felt relieved to see him there, after he had carried you behind a fallen wall so you didn’t have to see him deal with the treasure hoarders who put you in such a bad state for trying to take a pair of emerald earrings back.

he was, to a certain degree, when you choked out his name in that god-awfully brilliant voice of yours. it was faint, but he could hear the genuine happiness in you when you called his name.

you were always so excited to see him. ever since you dropped atop of him from the sky, apparently coming from nowhere, you have been happy to see him. he was undeserving of that; the chances you have given him at experiencing how soft this world can be was undeserved, but nonetheless, xiao was fond of the way you make him feel, more than he would like to admit, more than anything he has ever seen or heard or felt in this world.

you were the fondest he has ever felt. it was all you.

but the fondness goes like dust and ashes when you reached up with the pair of emerald earrings you bought him, which he dumped in the middle of the ruins because he was being petty about something insignificant he could no longer remember.

the sight of them gave him a moment of realization—you were here because of him.

and then you took your last breath—you died because of him, again.

he didn’t know how to feel when you didn’t respond to your own name. he kept calling for you—[name], wake up, he said. [name], stop playing around, you know you’re not funny, he said. [name], [name], [name]. but your eyes remained closed, so he held you close for the first time, and he exchanged the tears with apologies.

he promised he would keep an eye out for his actions after that.

yet here he was.

don’t die. please don’t die.

he dropped his spear and crouched down frantically next to you. he was still panting from the fight with the three ruin guards patrolling around fallen pillars and buildings, but what made him stress, even more, was less because of his sore body and more because of your bleeding head.

“[name]? [name], open your eyes, right now!” he said—scolded, in the voice he always talked to you with, the fondly defeated tone that showed he has surrendered his annoyance for your happiness, but with more urgency this time.

you coughed, feeling more lifeless than ever. there was a rush of deja vu back then, just a few moments ago when xiao gently laid you against the wall and left after telling you to stay still and keep your eyes open for him. it was like you have lived through this moment before, but you were hurting too much from your head wound to think into it.

xiao breathed out a sigh of relief.

thank the archons.

“hey, xiao…” you greeted with a faint smile, then you reached your hand up to give him the quingxin you picked. “flowers… got you flowers… for crowns… ”

he pursed his lips. you silly! you bone-head! why did you not just buy them from the flower shop? was what he wanted to say. even though knowing you, you would probably spill some weird argument like how flowers picked by other people wouldn’t have the same freshness and love in them, and he would say nothing because there was no winning for him when it comes to you.

he never has anything to say. nothing to go against your favors, and certainly nothing that makes you worry ever again. nothing that will get you running into forests alone to pick him flowers and risk the chance of you stumbling into ruin guards, or hilichurls, or treasure hoarders, or abyss mages.

(maybe the one you should avoid is him.)

“come on, let’s get you to the doctor, okay?” he said as he discarded the flowers at a frantic pace.

he looped your arms around his neck and hoisted you on his back. his spear sparkled next to the white flowers on the ground, reflecting a halo glow upward as if telling on him to the sky about what he did to you again. he took off running back to the city, praying to the archons that he could end your pain quicker, that he could find someone to stop the hurting faster.

but it seemed destiny had other plans.

he paused for a second to catch his breath. he did not notice the way your arms had long gone slack around his shoulders, and how you kept slipping off his back as if you could no longer support yourself. he was deliberately ignoring the details that signified your death, his delusional consciousness wishfully thinking that he would make it to the doctors in time.

“we’re getting there, [name],” he said as if he could still feel your short breath against his neck.

“you’re going to be fine, i will make sure,” he said as he began walking as if he could still feel your chest heave against his back.

“i will keep you safe next time, i promise,” he said as he leaned forward a little because your lifeless body was starting to slip off his back again.

“and then we can go pick flowers together, and you can make me flower crowns,” he croaked with guilted tears running down his cheeks, a smile on his face as if he wasn’t just given hope that he could save you this time, only to have you die on his back.

all because he said he would never put on a flower crown, and you insisted that he has to try.

(maybe the one you should avoid is him.)

the evil archon was silent when xiao appeared before it with your dead body. this was the third time. it was starting to see a pattern, and all it felt was glee that the pattern it has carefully cultivated was working in its favor.

because what better to keep the adepti under control than to make him feel indebted to itself? what better to keep the adepti under control than to keep reviving his dead lover and make him think they have a surviving chance this time around? what better to keep the adepti under control than to kill his lover and use his guilt against him every single time?

“dead again? what have you done?”

“please… help me…” xiao laid your body before the archon, which was just a statue without a face.

“reviving a human that was consumed by death takes a great deal of power, alatus.”

xiao gritted his teeth, but he said nothing when he could feel your skin under his gripping fingers. he lowered his head, pushing down the horrendous amount of anger and humiliation to the back of his mind, and he begged.

he begged for another chance to see your beautiful eyes smile under the moon again, he begged for another chance to hear you talk on and on about the wondrous world you two live in together, he begged for another chance to feel your radiant soul live near him and to let you show him around the city as if he could not already navigate through it with his eyes closed.

(he could not. he knew the concrete roads and the old stone walls, but he could never know about the smooth flower petals dancing with the wind and the tender glow of the sky everyone shared without you taking his hand and dragging him across all parts of the world.)

(just like cotton candy, you told xiao. his frown melts like cotton candy, whatever cotton candy was.)

“i’ll do anything,” he said.

“for the mortal. really.”

“i will do anything,” xiao declared again.

the golden flair in his eyes almost made the evil archon shiver.

it was radiating off of him—the heat of anguish and terror that he had once killed you, the heat of unfairness and humiliation that he has to stoop so low as to meddle with life and death, the heat of extreme affection for a lover he now has nowhere to cast upon because the sole receiver has long died in his arms.

all for a mortal. a special mortal. a mortal who has made someone who hates, love. a mortal who has made him, him who hates and scorns, love. not just themself, but everything else around him—music, flowers, lights, cities. a mortal who made sure he will always love, still, even after the sole reason for his affection is gone and he no longer has a reason to be gentle.

the archon wanted to laugh.

truly. the only thing more maleficent than love itself is the act of using it against someone.

looking at xiao right now—inadequate, fragile, chained, and so miserable.

oh, how it worked in its favor.

it has done so many things to the poor boy, but this one, oh, this would be the worst one yet.