#he can feel pain if his bones break or you scratch them or make weird vibrations but that's nerves inside the bone

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Canon-adjacent (implied no respawns, or at least heavily impaired respawns, but otherwise canon-ish setting) platonic husbands philza and missa with philza getting himself into a good deal of bother.

TW: needles, blood, major character injury, implied temporary major character death, panic attacks

The mob was new. Of all the things that could do such harm to Philza... there's a lot of them, if he's insufficiently careful, but this one was new. New, and unpredictable, and now very dead.

Very dead, but having left a giant gash from Philza's ribs on one side, to his opposing hip. It's bleeding - heavily - but nothing a potion can't fix.

Philza puts pressure on the wound with one hand, and searches his bag with the other. He grabs a couple of potions - it's a nasty looking wound, and he's already feeling weak - drinking them or pouring them on it as the bottles dictate.

He gives them a second, then another, and the wound doesn't close.

Before he's even had the chance to think /shit/, or /poison/, or /what the fuck was on that mob's stupid scythe/, he has both hands on the injury. His first hand - the hand with his communicator on - is looking pretty gorey already. He puts pressure, realises it's barely helping, then slips his hands around.

He grabs the edges of his skin, pinches them together, and he thinks /okay, fuck, what do I do now?/

For once, Philza does not have an answer. He's a good distance from spawn, his communicator is soaked in blood to the point he isn't sure it'll work and he's very sure he can't see the screen, and if he moves he'll bleed faster. There's also the niggling knowledge in the back of his mind that his thinking is impaired, that he's poisoned and it's likely to have more effects than just preventing his wound closing, that right now if he acts on anything he comes up with then he'll do something extremely dumb.

There's no winning, not when he's having thoughts like that.

Staying put is a shit plan, it's a completely shit plan, and he's pretty sure all versions of him would agree. No matter how he holds the wound he's still bleeding, blood bubbling out between his fingers. If he stays here, in a random glade, a couple of hundred blocks north of the closest build, he's going to die.

If he gets up, if he tries to walk those few hundred blocks... With where the wound is, every single step is going to shift it. He won't be able to pinch the wound closed as he is now, and with every step any healing that's miraculously happened will be undone. He might even tear the damn thing more. He's a couple of hundred blocks north of the Hide and Seek Arena, and nobody's even going to be there at this time of day; if he tries to walk, he's going to die.

What else? What else? He tries to bash his communicator to life, just in case. He keeps the HOLD switch on when he doesn't need it, usually. With his ring finger he manages to reach said switch, and try to flick it. The blood has gotten into the mechanism, disabling it. And with HOLD on... Even if the other buttons escaped the worst, they'll be disabled to. If he gets out of this, he's begging Tubbo or Aypierre or Pac or /someone/ to redesign the damn things, make them blood proof. He's not going to get out of this, though.

He's going to die, and it's going to fucking suck.

Those are, as far as he can tell, his options. None of them are survivable, but at least if he's walking he's /trying/ to live. It'll kill him faster than waiting for help, sure, but Philza's never been much good at standing still.

He pushes up from the tree, and gets eight steps before his knees buckle beneath him.

His hands fly from the wound to catch himself, then back to it to close it back up.

Philza might not be thinking straight, and he might not be good at sitting still, but he's nothing if not stubborn. He grits his teeth, and pinches the wound closed, and drags himself to his feet.

He makes it ten steps, then fifteen, then a whole thirty before he can only make it four. With every attempt his vision grows a little darker, his heart a little faster, his teeth set a little harder into their grimace.

He still gets back up, and gets back up, and gets back up until -

Until he can't any more.

In a hazy blur Philza tries his comms again - still not working - before letting go with one hand. He bleeds even faster without it, yes, but like this? He's too exposed, too exposed, and he can hear the wolves coming. Wolves who might be fine, but might also be looking for an easy meal.

Even dying his instincts kick in; Philza drags himself into a more defensible position, and clamps his fingers around the wound once more.

His body already sprawled on the floor, it's impossible to fall further when his eyes slip shut. Vaguely, vaguely, he's aware of his fingers falling limp, away from the wound and /ah/ he thinks /well, we had a good run, didn't we universe?/.

The universe doesn't answer, or if it does Philza's too far gone to hear it. Maybe the acceptance should scare him, but as he lays beneath a tree, it feels warm, it feels gentle - it feels like coming home.

There's something on the tip of his tongue, some memory just out of reach, some deep-set knowledge he really must know.

He doesn't chase it, he simply leans into the warmth and tries to let go.

"Phil!"

... Missa?

He might be too weak to hear the universe, but not the terrified scream of his husband.

It drives Philza, that flicker of a scream. He manages to get one arm under himself, push up, and-

And he doesn't even get to see the terrified man sprinting towards him, as his vision stays black and his body collapses back to the floor.

---

Philza doesn't expect to wake, not to silence and certainly not to soft Spanish sung by a hoarse voice. Whatever pillows his head is oddly shaped but warm, though everywhere else is freezing despite the weight of blankets. An arm is draped over him, and fingers brush through his hair.

He's also in a fucktonne of pain.

The singing hitches like a sob and - yeah no, that's not an angel, Philza's somehow fucking alive.

He'll take it, but it fucking sucks.

Memories are difficult, fragmented. He's...

He's supposed to be holding shut the wound in his side and /fuck/!

Limbs like lead, Philza tries to move, tries to pinch his bleeding flesh shut once again. It's hard, it should be impossible, but he's Philza Fucking Minecraft and he refuses to die!

He refuses, but one of those arms shifts, tries to stop him. Someone kisses the top of his head, shifts to hold his hands, whispers "you're alright, you're okay" in a gentle tone.

The singer, the singer whose name sits beneath his tongue and Philza can't quite grasp it, but he knows they are /wonderful/, /amazing/, his entire fucking /world/.

Well, maybe not all of it, but a massive fuck-off chunk of it at least.

And it is alright, he is okay, until something catches against his wound.

White hot agony, trailing up and down his entire spine.

Philza... Philza doesn't tense, doesn't scream, doesn't fight - his instincts are strong and his instincts have saved him before and he's just an injured, mutilated bird in the hands of a predator and for a moment all he knows is fucking pain and PLAY DEAD.

He doesn't tense at the pain, he goes limp. He can't even choose how his breathing catches - stopped in his throat, wings slack, body slack, unmoving and unresponsive as can be.

Someone calls his name, but blind pain and blind terror are winning, as in the certainty that he must survive. His name comes again, more frantic, then as a scream-

A scream.

A familiar scream that isn't his own and-

Oh, /fuck/, humans don't play dead in the same way, do they?

Through the pain and the fear and the hands on him it's hard, it's so hard - harder still when he hears running feet from else where and everything he is screams /predator, predator, predator/ - but he does it.

Philza takes a deep, loud, gasping, purposeful breath, forces his body to lock again, forces himself to stop playing, to breathe.

The wonderful voice above him stops screaming and starts sobbing, fingers tracing his jawline as he sobs over and over again.

The running feet stop, and there's a discussion in quick, panicked Spanish - too quick for any Philza, but especially for an injured one - before other hands are touching him, pressing him, assessing him.

His instincts are desperate but Philza remembers the screams before. The fight is exhausting, harder than it should be, but he forces himself to keep breathing, keep breathing, keep breathing. Just for the voice, just for the wonderful person who owns the voice and he knows means the world to him.

He tries to stay awake, he really does, but there's only so much he can do. He's tired, and breathing is /exhausting/, and the lovely voice belonging to a stupid but brilliant man isn't singing to him any more, and the longer he's here the more he realises he must actually, legitimately, be safe.

Safe, what a funny idea. But a nice one.

Philza gives in to temptation, and lets himself fade.

If he's safe, he can let consciousness be someone else's problem.

---

Philza wakes next to a warm pillow, and frozen blankets, and the distinct smell of honey tea. There's no singing this time, but familiar fingers trace his cheek and Philza feels them and thinks /Missa/.

There's a steady bip bip, and a sting, and his existence is cloudy with painkillers.

All of those sensations - every single one - adds up to /probably/ a good thing.

This time, awake, Philza manages to open his eyes. His vision is blurry, but the light is dim, and he's able to drink in the image of his husband above him sipping on a steaming mug.

Missa's eyes gaze vacantly into the distance. Philza does not chase them down. Instead he reaches up a shaking hand, just about managing to make it high enough to stroke Missa's cheek.

He sees Missa blink, and look down, and whisper "Phil?"

Philza can only gather so much strength, but he smiles his soft smile and mouths back "Missa".

---

A few hours and a nap later, Philza is sat against Missa's chest, and curled in his arms. They're both in an exhausted daze, Philza never having really quite left one, and Missa having been running on fear for too long. It strains the stitches a little, but not so much it bleeds, and Philza will live.

He's had the summary of what happened - Missa found him in the woods, bought him back, called for help healing him even as he cleaned and stitched the wound himself. There's talk of the poison, about it being new, and the struggle to synthesise an antidote before they ran out of blood they could give him.

From the haunted look in everyone's eyes, it was a fucking close run thing.

He'll have to thank Pac and Mike later, for that. He's already asked Fit to pass the message on, along with dropping his communicator off for cleaning, upgrade, and repairs, but, fuck, he knows the sort of toll the two are willing to put themselves through for people, and he knows he owes them.

He hopes Mike stopped Pac poisoning himself this time - Jesus Fucking Christ that man will be the death of Fit one of these days - and given the turn around might even be correct about it.

Silver lining - there's now an antidote for the next time someone runs into one of those fucks, and Aypierre is already working on a way to mass produce it.

And then there's Roier to thank, who might still give Missa side eye at times - and what even happened there - but who knows his way around the hospital /and/ seems to have kept his husband something approximating calm, and then Tubbo let slip they'd had to round up blood donations from everyone compatible to keep him alive and make up for the blood loss and, fuck, at this point he should probably get Chayanne to help him batch cook a /lot/ of shortbread to box up and hand around.

And then there's Missa, his Missa...

He's not sure /why/ Missa sang until his throat could barely function, especially when Philza was too unconscious to appreciate it, but...

But it was also Missa who found him, who saved him.

Philza presses a kiss to his fingers, then presses those fingers against Missa's throat.

"Hm?" Missa asks. "Phil?"

"Thank you," Philza shifts his hand, keeping the backs of his fingers against Missa's throat as he strokes along his chin with his thumb.

"I didn't do much," Missa whispers, his voice still suffering.

"You found me," Philza says. "You saved me."

"The... wolves?" his voice lilts slightly on the word - with Philza's communicator gone and head missing a significant proportion of blood assigned to it, they're stuck in English. "They found you."

"They would have eaten me, not saved me."

"No!" Missa's eyes widen, and arms tighten around him. "No, they are good- good boys!"

"I'm teasing," Philza promises, and maybe he is now but it had been a very genuine fear at the time. "I'm teasing, it's okay, I'm okay..."

He's not, he feels like death, and the painkillers he's been given will wear off soon. But, he's breathing, he's alive, and it doesn't look like that's changing any time soon.

Missa curls around him, hugging him close, protecting him from all sides. It's a position Philza is intimately familiar with, having done it so many times for his children.

"I was scared," Missa's voice breaks. "I was scared - you scared me."

"I'm sorry," and Philza /is/, he never - he's never wanted to be the cause of such worry, such fear. "Missa, I- I'm so sorry."

"You were dead," Missa says, the sobs free and almost drowning his struggling voice. "You were dead, in my arms. I held you dead in my arms."

A mistranslation? Philza wouldn't be here, if he were dead, he knows that much for sure.

"I'm right here," Philza promises, rather than call out his confusion; English is hard, and it's no time for a grammar lesson. "You got my dumb ass out of there, and got help. We're okay, I'm okay."

"Don't leave me," Missa answers. "You're- you're- banned! No leaving me, never leaving me."

Philza doesn't think his words are reaching through the tears; he pools his strength, and reaches up, and holds his husband close. Missa's arms wrap around his chest - not tight, moving as he breathes and clinging to that pace.

"We're okay," Philza whispers - despite the exhaustion, despite the pain, despite the catheter still in his arm just in case the bleeding restarts and he needs another transfusion, despite how controlling his body is like piloting sludge. "We're okay."

And maybe, this time, they will be.

[yawnderu]

Lamb of God — Nikto x Medic!Reader | Part I

Shot, stabbed, beaten... Mikhail has been through hell countless times, yet no amount of training or experience from years in Spetsnaz could ever prepare him for what Victor Zakhaev did to him. 8 missing nails, multiple new wounds on his already scarred body, and a face so disfigured he could no longer recognize himself— not only was his body broken, but so was his psyche.

His first visit was with the medics, wounds in desperate need of cleaning even with infection starting to set in most of them, the chemical burns on his face already blistering and itching despite being scolded by the medic multiple times for scratching himself. He was a difficult patient to say the least— not wanting anyone to touch his injuries or even look at him, only accepting treatment from the only person who dared confront him.

“'Stop that.” Your request comes in a sharp tone, not wanting him to itch his blistering injuries and make the scarring worse than what you knew it would be. A mumbled ''don't tell me what to do'' makes its way to your ears, though you decide to ignore it when he puts his hands way, adhesive bandages decorating his fingers where the nails had been ripped off.

“Sit up for me.” The man is an aggressive dog that defends himself with fangs bared, yet he somehow listens to your commands— even when he scoffs or grumbles before finally doing what you ask. Your gloved hand goes to his chin as you examine the red skin on his face, noting it was washed when he was first rescued, no residue of the acid left. He mumbles something and you raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to repeat himself.

“Is it gross?” His deep voice asks, accent even rougher with the raw emotion he's feeling. He knows for a fact it's gross, he saw it himself— he has blisters covering over half of his face, still remembering the acid dripping down his face from Zakhaev simply wanting to cause him pain.

“I've seen worse— at least you still have a face.” Being a medic for the military allowed you to see both human cruelty, and the extends injuries could go. You've seen multiple soldiers missing their face, skin pulled and bones poking out of their bodies— Mikhail's injuries aren't the worst you've seen, not even close.

“Your nose doesn't look too weird either, even when I was told it was broken. Your eyes still work, all your limbs are still attached... you'll recover from everything in no time.” You try to keep a positive attitude despite the way his baby blue eyes are staring holes into your head, pupils looking tiny despite the dim light in the room.

“I'm mostly worried about what's going on here.” You tap his head softly and he doesn't take long on pushing your hand away softly, a small smile making way to your lips when you notice how he avoids eye contact for a second before he's back to staring at you. You stare back for a while, trying to decipher what he's feeling before going to grab a cloth, filling a small bucket with cold water and making your way back to him.

“This might hurt a little bit, let me know if you want me to stop and we can take a break.” He looks down at the bucket of water and the cloth you're dipping in, squeezing the excess water as you wait for his approval. He gives you a nod in affirmation, flinching slightly as the cold cloth makes contact with his face. It doesn't hurt as much as he imagined— if anything, it feels almost soothing, the previous ache and itchiness disappearing even if only for a very short while.

“Заканчивай быстрее с этой хернëй.” He mutters under his breath despite how good it actually feels on his injuries, not wanting to get any pity from you.

“Be patient.” It almost feels like he's getting scolded by his nana, faint memories of the old woman cleaning his scrapped knees come to mind, holding onto them to try and stop the bad thoughts from flooding his damaged brain.

“Mikhail.” Your soft voice slowly brings him back to reality, feeling an odd sensation all over his face. His hand goes up to feel his cheeks, only now realizing that you already dressed his wounds. He looks utterly confused, not even remembering you getting gauze, everything happening too suddenly. Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't remember most of the heli flight back home, too busy thinking about... what was he even thinking about?

“Mikhail.” You repeat, one of your gloved hands going to his shoulder in attempts to make him look at you. He's still staring blankly at the floor, just as he has been doing for the past 20 minutes, not responding to his own name.

“Quiet, I hear enough voices.” He brushes you off, finally getting up from the medical bed and quickly leaving your office despite the small limp from the beatings he took for days.

He hears voices? His next stop will have to be with the provided psychiatrist once his body recovers a little bit to test if he's still fit to be part of Spetsnaz, leaving your heart filled with worry until you move onto the next patient, making a mental note to check on him later.

A/N: Mikhail is Nikto's name in this fic, the person he used to be before turning into Никто.

[piko-power]

Under the Moonlight - Part 2 - Midnight Hour

Read Part 1 if you haven't already - Legend of Dark Gaia

TW: Intense abdomen pains, bones breaking (not all of them don't worry) and transformation

Quick note: This story takes place before the sequel. Any Sonic Movie story I write like this one will be a pre-sequel story.

Trying to get his mind off Dark Gaia, Sonic thought some candy will make him feel better. Soon, however, a strange glows emits outside and soon Sonic's life will change.

-

"Hold on... Almost done..."

Maddie continuously wiped the makeup off Sonic's muzzle, eventually it came right off. To Sonic, it felt like hours when she tried to get the fake blood off his face, but it was finally taken care of.

"There. All done." She placed down the wipe on the sink's counter and cupped his cheek. "Now you're all clean. For a moment I thought that stuff would never come off."

"Same here, honestly." Sonic chuckled.

A knock on the door was sounded. "You good in there?" Tom's voice was muffled, but it was recognizable. "We're fine." Maddie replied.

Sonic gets up from the chair and opened the door, seeing Tom in front of him. He smiled at him before leaving the bathroom. "I'm glad you two had fun tonight." Maddie said.

Tom watched as Sonic sits down on the couch with Ozzie, removing his cape and throws it onto the coffee table. He scoots closer to the retriever and scratches his ears. He grinned. "Me too."

"Maybe next year I can tag along." Maddie left the room and closed the door behind her. "Probably. Maybe you might keep an eye on him so that way he won't run off to the forest alone." Tom said.

"...That sounded a little specific." Maddie raised a brow.

"It's nothing to be concerned about. Sonic was fine." Tom said, placing his arm around her.

"Okay Ozzie, you should probably stay inside for the night." Sonic whispered into his ear. "I think Dark Gaia's energy might be nearby."

Tom and Maddie blinked.

"I'm sorry, Dark What?" Maddie darts her eyes right at the sheriff, who is looking to the wall.

"Hey Tom, are dogs immune to Dark Gaia energy, or no?" Sonic looks over to Tom as Ozzie snuggles against one of the pillows, feeling sleepy.

"Sonic, do I have to say this again?" Tom says, now facing the small hedgehog. "There is no Dark-"

"Who told him about Dark Gaia?" Maddie goes up front at the Donut Lord. "Was it Wade?"

"It was Carl. He told that little ghost story." Tom brushed his hair with his hand, wanting the dumb conversation out of the way already.

"That story is way to grownup for him." Maddie lectured. "You didn't even stop him?"

"I couldn't find him!"

"Did he say anything else?"

"It was the only story he told-"

"I'm definitely coming with you guys next year."

As Tom and Maddie argue quietly a few feet away, Sonic scratches Ozzie's ears again. "I'm pretty sure your immune, buddy."

Ozzie pants, enjoying the head scratches.

Suddenly, from the corner of his eye, something bright flashed outside the window. Panic was returning. He quickly get up on his feet and slammed his hands at the window, searching for that light. "WHAT WAS THAT?! WAS THAT THE WEIRD LIGHT FROM THE MOON JUST NOW?!"

"Sonic!" Tom said out loud. "It was just a car driving by!"

"You don't know that!" The Blue Devil argued.

"Sonic. The moon's light glows purple when Dark Gaia energy is present. That was just a car."

Then at the right time, that same light flash in the distance again. Sonic looked outside to see a car drive down the road, the light coming from the headlights. Tom was right.

"Phew..." Sonic placed his hand on his chest, releasing a relieved exhale.

"Sonic, you're getting worried over nothing." Tom began. "There is no Dark Gaia, okay?"

"But-"

"Ah! But nothing." Maddie started. "Dark Gaia is just like any other ghost story throughout the years. Trust me, if there was such thing as Dark Gaia, Green Hills would be a ghost town."

Sonic looked down at the couch's cushions. "Carl said it was true, though." He said. "It sounded too real to be just a story. All those details... It couldn't be fake..."

"Buddy..." Tom walks over the hedgehog and sat down next to him. "I swore I felt a breeze out there during the tale. I thought it was the Dark Gaia energy... Y-You think-?"

"Sonic." Maddie placed her hand on Sonic's shoulder. He looked to see her soft smile. "A while ago that story was just made up to scare the kids away from going into the woods alone. And Dark Gaia has been a legend WAY before that story was even a thing."

"Kids, huh? I thought you said the story was too grownup for Sonic."

"Do you wanna sleep on the couch?"

"No, I'm good."

"Anyway," she tried to hold her laughter in. "We don't want you to be scared over something that never happened. You are safe, okay honey? It's okay."

"..."

Sonic gently held Maddie and Tom's hand. "If... If Dark Gaia is real," He spoke carefully. "and if something happened to me... Will you... Find a way to bring me back?" He looked up at Tom with a hint of hope twinkling in his worried emerald eyes.

"Kid, I would do anything to make sure you're okay. Of course we'll find a way."

With a sweet and cool smile like that, Sonic would definitely believe him.

Knowing that these humans got his back, all his worries faded away, finally showing off a small smile, feeling secure around them.

"I was so worried... Of course we'd kick Dark Gaia's butt!" Sonic pumped his fists, feeling more confident now. "If I can beat some mustached jerk, then I can beat some weird looking dude from the underworld! ...Or whatever!"

"Ahh, that's more like it!" Tom scratched the back of the hedgehog's ear, relived to see him feel all better now. "Glad we got all that Dark Gaia nonsense out of the way."

Maddie looked up at the clock to see that the time is now twenty until nine. "Sonic, if you're not feeling too tired I can make dinner for you if your hungry." She said, turning her head to the hedgehog.

"I am hungry. For some candy!" He said right before he zipped out of the room and into the kitchen. "OH NO." Tom panicked, running out of the room after Sonic.

"No, no no no no. Wait just one second." Tom finally made it to the kitchen as Sonic, who is already on top on a dining chair, grabbed his bucket of candy from the cabinet. He quickly took it out of his hands.

"HEY!"

"if you want some candy, you have to wait after dinner." Tom said, putting the bucket back. "Can't I just have one piece of candy?" Sonic begged.

"No, Sonic. You have to wait."

"It's just one piece, not the whole bar."

"Still not convincing me."

"Pleeeeeaaaaaase?? Just one??"

Tom looked back up at the bucket, then at Sonic, who was giving him the puppy eyes. He was even whimpering. "Sonic. Come on. We're not doing this."

His lips "quivered" and whimpered louder, trying so hard to make Donut Lord change his mind. It might be working, though. "Mmmm... Alright. You can have one, small, piece."

"YES!" Sonic jumps up in victory, and nearly fell off the chair. Tom held him carefully, making him stand properly. "Whoa!"

He jumps off the chair and lend out his hand. Tom took a small Hershey and gave it to Sonic. "Thank yoouu!" Sonic sang, preparing to open the wrapper.

"This is between you me, bud."

"And me, right?"

"AGH!"

Tom jolted when he heard Maddie's voice, who was standing by the entrance of the kitchen, hand on her hip. "I can explain." He chuckled.

Maddie just burst into laughter, she couldn't stay mad at him. He can be such a dork sometimes. Sonic giggled along with them, taking a bite off the chocolate.

"Mmmm!" Halloween candy truly is the best kind of candy.

-

The sheriff placed a blanket around Ozzie, who was sleeping by the pillows on the couch. "Goodnight, buddy." Tom whispered, and patted his head before leaving the room.

He came across Maddie, who just got done washing the dishes. "Have you seen Sonic?" "I believe he just went up to his room." Maddie pointed to the attic's door.

"Little dude's already passed out, huh? I'll go tuck him in." Tom goes up the stairs. "And I'll go take down the decorations." Pretzel Lady said approaching the front door.

"Whoa, whoa, already?" He came to a halt and turned back around. "I can do all that tomorrow, you don't have to do it."

"Well, you were walking around the neighborhood with Sonic all night, you deserve to rest your legs." She said, grabbing a hold of the keys and unlocked the door.

"Yeah, that's fair. I could go for a nap." Tom joked. "It's already nine, ya doofus." Maddie laughed.

Tom continued walking up the steps and reached up to yank on the attic's handle. Carefully pulling down the stairs, he placed them down on the ground and kept going up, reaching to Sonic's bedroom.

"Uh oh!" A voice mumbled out and then a whooshing sound goes off in the room. Then, nothing.

That sounded suspicious.

Tom reached to the top and noticed Sonic sitting on his bed, kicking his feet and smiling widely.

"...What did you do?"

"What do you mean' what did I do?'" He shrugged. "I was just minding my own business."

"Really?" Tom asked. "Cause I thought I heard you running around the room before I got here. You didn't... Steal anything, did you??"

"WHAT? Pfffft! Noooooooo!" Sonic sounded very nonchalant, but the sheriff kept playing along. "Why would I do that? You know I don't steal! I'm a good hedgehog!"

"You used to steal thrown away road signs back when you lived in a cave."

"Well, I don't do THAT anymore, either."

"Either?"

"I didn't steal anything, Tom! Promise!"

"Well then..." Tom said, walking over to his race car bed. "I hope you don't mind if you DO THIS!" He quickly said before lifting the pillow off the bed to see...

Nothing.

Tom blinked, surprised to see nothing under the pillow, which was the usual hiding spot for things Sonic would take. "See? I told you, Donut Lord, but you didn't believe me." Sonic crossed his arms and looked away.

"Hey, I'm sorry, alright? I just thought... Well...-" Tom scratched the back of his head, feeling bad for making Sonic upset.

The hedgehog smiled for a moment before turning back around, now looking unamused. "For shame, dude. For shame." He shook his.

"Okay, okay. I said I was sorry. You want tucked in now, or are you gonna stay up for a while?"

"Ehh, I'm not feeling tired. I... *YAAAAAAAWN*" Sonic couldn't finish his sentence when a yawn escaped from his mouth. "I'll stay up..." "Alright then." Tom said, placing the pillow back on the bed and fluffing it. "But you get some rest soon, okay?"

"Okay..." Sonic wiped his eye.

Donut Lord walked down the steps but stopped for a moment before saying, "Goodnight, Sonic. See you in the morning." "Goodnight, Tom..." Sonic said, sleepily.

After that, the sheriff stepped down and closed the attic door.

Sonic then went up to the door and went on his knees, placing his ears down on the door for footsteps. The footsteps get quieter...

And quieter...

"Annnnnnd... We're good." Sonic spoke, quickly crawling to his bed and laid down on his belly, reaching out under his bed. "He thinks I'm sooooo predictable. Sometimes I have to come up with different tricks..."

He then pulls out his pile of candy from underneath. "...Just to get my treats."

Letting out an evil, but adorable, "Teehee!" Sonic sat down on his bed and placed his candies down next to him. "I'm sure Tom and Maddie wouldn't notice a dozen chocolates going missing. Haha..."

There was only a good handfuls of candy that he stole after dinner while no body was watching. There were some chocolate wafers, milk chocolates, sweet tarts, and pretty much all the best kinds of candies. (In Sonic's opinion.)

He first snatched a KitKat and opened the wrapper. He then broke the chocolates off and took a bite off one of them. He danced a little, enjoying the taste of chocolate and wafer.

He then dropped the empty wrapper onto the floor next to him and continued eating his candy. For his first Halloween, he was surprised that he got a huge haul.

Halloween was tons of fun. Lots of different costumes, lots of pranks being pulled, lots of candy, it was just amazing. He can't wait to do it all again soon, and hopefully he'll get twice as much candy.

"So good!" He cheerfully said to himself, mouth full of chocolate. "Man, I don't know why I got so worked up over Dark Gaia. It sounded pretty spooky, but it was just a story." He said.

"This is Crazy Carl we're talking about, not every story he tells is true. ...Then again," His ears pinned down. "I was one of his stories, and I was real the whole time."

He thought about the Dark Gaia story again, but shrugged it off as he continued eating his candy. "But I was the only story he told that was real! I was so silly back there."

He was already finished with his KitKat and went to grab a pumpkin shaped Reese's. "No Dark Gaia energy's gonna get me, that's for sure." He said before biting into the peanut butter cup. He threw the wrapper next to the old one and continued munching down on his Halloween candy buffet.

-

Sonic tossed the last two M&Ms into his mouth, and threw the small empty bag onto the little mountain of candy wrappers. In a short time, the candies were already gone.

He must admit, it was probably a bit too much candy after all, but he felt satisfied nonetheless. He does feel more tired, though. He let out a long yawn.

He looked down at the wrappers. "I should probably hide them before Tom and Maddie sees." He wondered as he got up and pushed the wrappers under the bed. "There we go..."

He got back up on his bed and kicks off his shoes. "Man, Halloween sure was awesome. And long... I need to get some sleep..." He says before grabbing his blanket and laying down. He rested his head on his pillow.

"I'm gonna miss Halloween... But it'll come back next year...'' He spoke slowly, about to fall asleep. "Maybe before then we can share ghost stories... That might be fun..." He closes his eyes.

"Maybe something better than Dark Gaia, haha..." He turns to his right side and smiled, snuggling into his pillow. "There's probably something out there more spooky than... Dark Gaia..."

He couldn't find enough strength to keep talking, he was nearly asleep. In his head, he was replaying all the best moments from his first Halloween. He thought about the best costumes he's seen that night.

Including someone dressed up as Neo from the Matrix. Sonic thought he looked so cool. He begged Tom to take a hundred pictures with him and that guy.

Then he thought about that moment where he tried to prank people pretending to be a vampire, but most of the time the kids laughed or thought Sonic looked really funny or cool.

Then he thought about... Crazy Carl.

And his little ghost story of his.

He's heard plenty of Carl's stories before, but nothing like Dark Gaia. Some stories he tell sound ridiculous or kind of cool, but the one he told on Halloween night was... Pretty messed up.

But it was just a story. It spooked him badly, but it was only a ghost story.

Just a ghost story.

Just a ghost story.

...

Right?

-

The hedgehog shuddered himself awake suddenly after a few hours. He turned to his other side to see his clock's time. It's a few minutes before midnight.

He groaned. "I thought it was later than that..." He laid on his back and tried to fall asleep.

He rested his hand on his stomach, feeling a little gassy. Maybe eating all those candies was kind of a bad idea.

Whatever, at least they were delicious.

As a few seconds gone by, Sonic wasn't feeling any less tired, strangely. He rearranged his pillow to make it more fluffy. He rests his head back on the pillow. "Go to sleep..." He whispered to himself, arms hugging the pillow for extra comfort.

...Still not asleep.

He opened his eyes and sits up, rubbing them. "Why can't I sleep?" He asked himself in an annoyed tone.

He sighed and looked out the window behind him. Why does he feel like there's something out there watching him? Is it the raccoons? Or is it...

Is it...

His thoughts were distracted when his gut felt more worse than a while ago. He pushed against it, cringing at the feeling. "Maybe some water will do the trick..." He said before getting off his bed.

Those candies really were a bad idea.

He opened the attic door and went down the stairs. He carefully, and slowly, walked down the steps, trying not to wake anyone up. He froze when he saw Ozzie. who was still sleeping on the couch.

"Gotta be very quiet..." He mumbled, tiptoeing away from the living room and into the kitchen.

He grabs a clean cup from the dish strainer and turned on the sink's faucet. Water quietly pours onto the cup, filling it halfway up. He turned the faucet off as the cup was getting half full, and gets off the stool.

He was about to take a sip when he noticed something off. His fingers... At least his finger nails, are sticking out his gloves. "Huh...?" He's probably just feeling sleepy, but he swore his nails looked taller. "That's weird..."

He puts the cup down on the counter and takes a good look at his left hand. Wanting to inspect more on this, he pulled his glove off and see that... "Wh-Whoa." His eyes grew for a moment when he noticed that his nails did, in fact, grew. They were longer, sharper.

It freaked Sonic out for a moment but he tried to ignore it and put his glove back on. "That was very weird." He said. "Maybe it's just nothing- AGH!"

The hedgehog suddenly jolted, knocking the cup over spilling water onto the floor. He hugged his body with his left arm, feeling tense and in pain. "Wh-What the...? What's going on with me??" He cried out quietly.

"I-Is it the candy?? I never felt like this befor- OUCH!" He wrapped his arms around his stomach. The pain was getting worse. Much worse. "Ow, ow, ow...!!" He strained between his teeth, trying not to be too loud.

He was beginning to sweat bullets. This is nothing like any other stomachache he had. Is it even a stomachache. What is happening?

"I-I need to get to Tom and M-Maddie. R-Right now." He grunted, trying to walk out of the kitchen. Maybe it is best to tell them the truth, about the candies. It's the ultimate sacrifice to make just to deal with the unexplained pain.

To make matters worse, his head was starting to ache too. "Uuuugh...! Stop, already...!" He argued with himself, feeling tears stinging his eyes. Where ever this pain is coming from, he wanted it to just go away.

Destroy.

Break apart.

RIP THEM ALL INTO SHREDS.

"NO! STOP IT, PLEASE!!"

... ...

When the hedgehog opened his eyes, the headache passed and his insides settled. He was shaking, confused and worried about what is going on. "Wh-What was that...? What's happening?!"

Barking could be heard in the other room. Crap, he must've woke the dog up. Still in extreme pain, Sonic tried to run to the living room. Before he could enter, he fell to the ground, his legs not handling the pain. "OW!"

"Sonic?!"

"What's going on down here?"

Maddie and Tom goes downstairs to see the dog barking at the window and a blue hedgehog face first onto the ground. "Are you okay?" Maddie said.

"What happened?" Tom kneels down and picks Sonic back up. He moaned, feeling the headache coming back. "Make it stoooooop...!" He whined loudly, placing his hand on his hot head. "Are you sick? Tell me, what's wrong wi- ...Oh, my God."

"Wh... What?"

"What the hell happened to your teeth??"

Sonic got up and backed away, confused. "What are talking about...?" He nearly crashed into the wall, feeling very dizzy and nauseous. "Baby? Are you feeling okay??" Maddie approached the hedgehog and placed her hands on his.

Sonic's tongue felt something on his teeth and opened it a little, trying to see what it is. When he did, Maddie gasped. "Sonic, you're fangs! Their..."

Maddie slightly poked at the incredibly long and sharp fangs that grew in out of no where, just like his nails. "M-Maddie, what's happening to me...?"

He shuts his eyes tight, feeling his headache getting worse. "Buddy, it's okay! We're here!" Tom called out, grabbing his shoulder.

Ozzie continued to bark out the window. When Sonic opened his eyes, a glow was going through the window slowly, creating an lilac aura in the room.

"What the f..." Tom paused and looked around the room, noticing the aura as well.

Sonic looked through the window and his eyes grew in horror. His shaking was uncontrollable. "Oh, no..." He spoke up. "No, no, no...!" He was beginning to panic, which did not help his pains. "NO! NO!"

Sonic then try to run out of the room but Maddie stopped him by grabbing his arm. "Sonic, no! You're not going anywhere!"

"Let me go!"

"I'm not letting you go until he figure out what is wrong with-"

POW!

Tom gasped when Sonic, out of no where, punched her arm away from him. "LET GO OF ME!" He growled.

They both looked at him in shock.

"...!" Sonic was in shock too.

He looked at his trembling hands. The longer he stared at them, the more they violently shake. The purple glow from outside gets brighter as well.

"Maddie, what is going on??!"

"I don't know! Ozzie, stay quiet!"

"Boy, calm down- Sonic, stay right where you are, okay? Ozzie!"

Everything was blurry. Everything was loud. Everything was purple.

Every part of his body was in pain. One small movement, and it's excruciating. He needs to leave. NOW.

Sonic runs away to the kitchen and through the back door. He fell down the steps and landed on his face. He tried to get up, but his arms were weak.

The glow was brighter once more when he tried harder to get up. When he did, no matter how much his arms hurt, he looked out the door to see his friends.

Then... He looked up.

The cause of the bright light shining upon the Earth and through the house was the moon itself. The moon was shining a dark purple right down at Sonic.

Right down at Sonic.

His emerald eyes were huge. He kept staring at the glowing moon.

It's it.

Do it.

It's real.

Unleash.

Dark Gaia's energy is real!

NOW!

Sonic then let out a scream as he struggled to get back up. His hands were on the ground and he was straining. He groaned loudly, trying to resist the energy's transformation.

"SONIC?!!" Tom and Maddie cried out his name.

"NO!" He snarled with tears in his eyes. "STAY AWAY FROM ME!"

Surrounding him in a circle was dark purple smoking rising by him. Blue electricity spits out from his body, but the blue was slowly turning into a dark shade of purple, just like the glow.

Suddenly, a burst of light shot out of Sonic's chest as he cried loud enough for the heavens to hear. The beam was shot right into the sky for the whole town, and possibly the whole state, to see.

Smoke rose up quickly and his body glew dark violet, right as the beam disappeared.

Groaning and snarling, Sonic was right back on the ground on all fours. His gloves were beginning rip, showing his sharp claws from before. "S-STOP...!" He begged loudly.

Soon, his hands burst open from the gloves revealing his once blue hands with tan beans, now blue claws stabbing against the dirt.

With a loud CRACK, Sonic's back snapped upwards as he shrieked. His tails grew slightly, and so did his ears, which grew whites tips on the top.

His quills extended along with them, also spawning white tips. His fur was turning a darker blue and his socks were ripping apart but stayed intact.

His upper body puffs out every few seconds, and his wrists were more hairy, which was the same color was the tips of his quills.

Sonic's cried of terror were slowly turning into growls of anger. This power was getting more intense each second goes by.

Tom and Maddie watched in horror as their hedgehog companion, surrounded by purple smoke, transform into a completely different but similar creature.

His eyes opened, not with fear, but with rage in his wild emerald eyes.

BE ONE WITH DARK GAIA!

Then, the smoke exploded, covering the backyard.

Tom and Maddie coughed, and tried to swing away the smoke. "Tom! Where- COUGH COUGH, where are you?!"

"I'm right here, baby!"

"Thomas!!"

"MADDIE!"

Lost in the smoke, the two human felt their touch and quickly embraced tightly. Maddie was sobbing into Tom's chest. "It's okay. It's okay."

"IT'S NOT OKAY! OUR KID! H-HE'S-!" She choked, trying to catch her breath.

The smoke was clearing up and the backyard was a little easier to see. The glow from the moon was gone. But as enough smoke disappeared however...

"O-Oh no... S-... Sonic...?!" Tom backed away in horror, and so did Maddie when she looked at his direction.

Enough smoke evaporated to see a slightly bigger creature, who was buffer and more intimidating than the poor hedgehog that was in pain earlier.

No... This is the same hedgehog.

That's a werehog.

The werehog open his glowing eyes, breathing heavily. He was standing straight, looking more taller and frightening. Tom and Maddie shook, fearing their kid preparing to hurt them.

Sonic, still in the smoke turned his head slightly, almost looking like he was facing the two. Whatever the heck happened out here must've changed this hedgehog for good.

"Is that a cat?!" Sonic poked his head out, revealing his not-so intimidating puppy like face as he stares to his left.

And there it was. A stray cat, who just walked in at the wrong time. It jumped and ran off like crazy into the streets.

"Hey! Wait! Get back here! Get back here, cat! Come back! Hey! Hey!" The werehog jumps out of the smoke and chased down the cat on both his feet and hands, like some sort of a hyper dog.

He slid across the road and chased the cat away from the house. His raspy voice pleading the cat to come back in such a joyful manner echoes in the distance.

The two wide eye balled human stared down the direction Sonic ran off to and were left speechless, confused and, possibly, traumatized.

"...I was not expecting that part, honestly." Tom's words did not help.

-

To be continued...

-

[cassandrajoybellbittner]

Runaway Wolf - Chapter 17b

*Warning Adult Content*

Levi Blackman

“Alright, were to begin…?” he paused for a minute.

“Uhh… this might be hard to believe but she’s more dangerous than you could ever imagine, especially to our kind.”

I sat in silence as he continued completely focused on his words.

“Her race of beings are called the Syrith... they’re a race of women who take pleasure in torturing others... particularly men. They’re the cousins to the Siren and The Succubus.”

I cut him off then with a laugh.

“Seriously? Sirens are nothing but a Greek myth and come on a Succubus, really?”

I shook my head in disappointment.

I thought he would be straight with me but apparently not.

“Forget it,” I muttered twisting a little to be at a better angle to brush Kyle’s hair again.

“Yeah and we’re a European folklore. You think humans believe in us? We’re nothing but a tale to others, a story to make up to scare little children or a horror movie. But are we really like what human portray us to be…? No, we’re nothing like that, we are an honorable race of beings who are led by rules and disciplined when overstepping our bounds. We’re loyal and love with a passion like no other but do humans know that? No because we don’t exists. So what makes you thing we’re the only ones out there?” he looked at me straight and I frowned, he was right what if there are other beings out that were unknown to us.

“Continue,” I told him a moment later.

“Okay. Like I was saying... they are a race of beings with a cruel nature. Yes they look like innocent beautiful women but that’s part of their deceitful disguise that ensnares us,” his face was hard and serious.

“Okay, what else do they do?” I shivered.

“A Syrith’s main purpose is to feed and dominate. They’re a dominant species like us but with a much vicious way about them. Unlike us where we submit to our Alpha’s dominance in respect, The Syrith demand it. They break their victims till they completely submit and to do that they torture them. It’s like a really bad BDSM experience gone way too far and on top of that they feed off the pain they cause you.”

I cringed as he explained this to me.

I never knew there were such sick people out there like that… well in this case creatures.

“Have you noticed Nadia’s hands are covered with gloves?”

I nodded weakly.

“Well if you took those suckers off you’d feel a world of pain you never knew existed. And they feed that way, taking the power from you through touch.”

“Why, to stay young or something?” I asked appalled.

He laughed and shook his head.

“Kind of but mainly because it feels good to them, it tastes good. That’s why I say there cousin to the succubus, just the more twisted version.”

“But aren’t Succubus demons?”

Cyrus gave me a knowing look.

“Well what do they do to their victims in the end?”

I hated to ask but I needed to know.

“They either suck the life out of them with prolonged feeding or they break them to become loyal and devoted pets. And they like breaking wolves the best.”

My head snapped up at this.

“Wait what? They can overpower us?” fear seeping into my bones at the thought of someone like that with only a wall separating us.

Cyrus chuckled dryly.

“We’re not immune to pain are we? Of course they can but it’s much harder to do that when we always run in packs so their main wolf victims are lone wolves and rogues. Once they get their claws into you they don’t let go till they’re done with you and by then you won’t be around anymore.”

There was suddenly a scratching at the door and a loud whine that caused me to jump.

Cyrus stood and opened the door for Lakota as he zoomed in jumped up on the cot Kyle was on and curled up to his side.

He rests his head on Kyle’s upper stomach careful of his wounded are that was slowly healing now and stared at the both Cyrus and I with his watchful yellow eyes.

“Who is this?” Cyrus asked suddenly staring at the pup in a weird way.

“Lakota,” I said reaching over patting him between the ears.

“Hmm,” was all he said as he sunk back in his chair.

“Hey if this Syrith lady ‘Nadia’ is as dangerous as you say then how are you able to capture her like you have?”

This caused him to smile that sinister smile from earlier.

“Well... that’s my little secret,” he shrugged pulling his black bladed knife out again and continued on cleaning the dirt from under his nails.

When he didn’t say anymore, I dropped the creepy subject and focused back on my unconscious mate.

Lakota with his ears back whined and I knew his pain.

I felt like doing the same. 

As the silence in the room and the constant thumping stopped from the woman in the other room I sat there in a daze.

The things I’ve been though in the last few days were starting to ware on me.

My body felt heavy as lead and my eyes were dropping from weariness.

I knew if I didn’t sleep to take my mind off things for a while I’d go crazy thinking about the things I’ve done in the last week and I could do that now, not with Kyle in the state he’s in.

He needed me right now, strong and thinking about Matthew would kill me so I got up from Kyle’s cot and trudged over to the couch and laid down for bit and rested.

Regrettably sleep didn’t stop the damn nightmares from coming as I killed Matthew over and over again, like my mind was on repeat.

And it didn’t stop the memories of Kyle’s body shaking in a seizure as the silver poison seeped in to his body.

But those memories were quickly replaced by a horrific image of Kyle hands being strung on from the ceiling and a woman in black leather torturing him till his screams were all I could hear. 

Kyle Parker

The ground was cold and hard as my battered body lay crumpled on it.

My wounds were healing slowly as I lay staring in the dark.

Time was endless here, I had no idea what day it was or if it was day or night.

How long have I been here, days, months, years?

I couldn’t reach anyone though my pack link, have they left me?

Have they kicked me out and severed our connection?

As much as I tried not too, my thoughts were brought to Levi.

My thoughts were interrupted by the heavy squeak of a door and I cringed.

‘Not again,’ I whimpered silently as the slow sound of familiar heels clicking against the cement echoed horribly in my ears.

“Aww, poor pet,” the stroke of a hand in my hair caused me to jerk away.

A loud clang then ricocheted off the walls.

“Eat boy, can’t have you dying on me… yet” she said with a low husky laugh before her heels drifted from the room.

Sighing in relief I sat my aching body up and pulled the tray of slop closer to me and woofed it down.

I had to get out of here.

[darthmaulification]

Hello hello. I've been thinkin a lot about din lately and the fics i often read portray him as affectionate with small gestures like he puts his on your waist to guid you away if you're on the way. Small things. But what if youre the one with these small affectionate gestures? Will he be confused? Flustered? Imagine going to hug him and lock your arms around his waist *faints and falls on the floor*

hello hello right back at you! 👋 i’m a sucker and a half for affection that’s all small and cute and personalized to each person, and i’m a sucker and two thirds for dinjamin djarin, so here’s a lil something. 😌🤲💕

(some mentions of injury and below the cut!)

~

he definitely wouldn't be complaining, that's for damn sure! i think an s/o who is as equally as subtle with their affectionate gestures would make din feel right at home! din isn't the type for pda (or at least the super obvious stuff) and likes to be fairly lowkey anyways, so if you are like that as well, i think it just means you both learn each other's intimacies in a very quiet, subdued, and deeply personal way.

imagine how important touch itself is to din. he knows it well, he knows what punches feel like, the sting from a bite or scratch, the white hot pain of a burn, the rupture of blood vessels, the break of a bone or two, his skin splitting if he lands on hard ground, or the way a blade of a knife can sink into him like cutting through fog, displacing the flesh. he knows the agony touch can cause, and ache that lingers, that seeps deep in his bones and doesn't leave for weeks or months on end.

touch is important, because it is painful, and din isn't too much of a fan of pain.

then you come along and bring a new type of touch, a feeling that isn't as foreign to din as he thinks it is, that later, when he's familiarized himself with the creeping nostalgia, that reminds him of a distant, long-past childhood on aq vetina—

your touch is fleeting, brief, and often hesitant— not in that you're unsure, but more in that you reach and will waver, will pull back like the tide and move in like weeds in a garden. you don't retract or forget the motion altogether, but you do wait until the time is right. your touch is careful, considerate, and so warm.

din first feels your touch on his bicep, when you brush past him on the razor crest one day. to get by him, you place your fingers on the cloth of his flight suit, muttering a low, polite "excuse me" as you go by, and just when the words end and your two steps in front of him, your hand pulls away. it stops din his his tracks, briefly. then he inhales, exhales, and continues.

in all reality, that shook him to his core.

instances like that happen with more frequency, some more bold than others, but all of them tender nonetheless. sometimes it’s another hand on his bicep, or one that briefly rests on his back, or a teasing one on his chest, or that one time you were so happy and excited to see him after a hunt that drew on longer than you’d both anticipated that you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him like you meant it.

or, on one painful, scary night, it was both of your hands pressed to his side to stop the blood flow (the only time your touch has ever brought din pain).

after that, in a weird sequence of events, din craves your touch. he wants you to feel him everywhere, to familiarize himself with the palms of your hands on every muscle and square inch of skin on his body in every way imaginable. he actively seeks out ways to ensure that you touch him, like standing in the middle of a doorway or squeezing himself into a too small space with you— just to feel you.

he’s elated when you reciprocate every time, and apparently both of you gather enough courage one night and din gets to have you, feels the way you touch in an entirely new light, feels sensations unlike any other— under the shadows of his cramped bed quarters and you with a blindfold on, of course.

that’s the night he realizes that he loves your fingers running through his hair, and the night he realizes that he can’t ever not touch you again— or you him.

touch is important to din for a whole new reason now.

[chaos-burst]

questions and answers

He had meant to be rude. And it had not worked even a little bit. Eodwulf is sure that anyone else would have been offended. Hell, he’s even sure that the other members of this weird group were absolutely offended on behalf of their friend. But Eodwulf can’t say he has ever met a person like this.

There was no malice, no ill intent, no anger.

When you work with Trent you have to be aware of every little shift in the mood. The slightest twitch of an eyebrow can mean the weather is about to turn foul. Eodwulf knows what to look out for. It had been his intent to rev this weirdo up and it had backfired spectacularly.

Damn.

No meat. No booze. And balls of steel, apparently. Eodwulf had never seen anyone talk to Trent like that. And while Bren‘s—Caleb‘s—words of wanting to kill Trent outright had been more than Eodwulf would ever admit to his mentor, it somehow felt less crazily reckless than to call Trent Ikithon, Archmage of Civil Influence for the Cerberus Assembly and one of the most powerful mages in the Empire, a fucking fool.

To his face. With a smile. In a complete sincere manner.

Eodwulf doesn’t want to replay the words in his head over and over again but his dumb brain has latched onto them and he can’t stop. Only this time it’s not one of Trent’s lessons that forces him to obsessively repeat something until you have internalized it to the point where you can cite it in your sleep.

No.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people.“

Eodwulf has it on repeat in his head the whole way back to the tower and it is still going when he lies down hours later to sleep.

“What are you“ had not been meant as a serious question when Eodwulf had asked it. But by the time he finally falls asleep he feels like it has become a very vital question indeed, because who or what would dare to speak to Master Trent Ikithon in a way like this with an honest smile on their face.

*

Because for some reason his thoughts have decided to betray him, Eodwulf’s brain makes his tongue and lips form the words again when they see the Mighty Nein the next time. This time, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited to dinner—Trent has very specifically not been invited, you could say he was uninvited with quite a few flowery words in a strange accent.

And as soon as Eodwulf sees Caduceus he remembers the weirdly polite scratching of a chair, the wide smile that indicates that this is a person Eodwulf possibly can not force to lose their composure through careful placed rudeness. And his mouth betrays him.

“So. What are you, really?“

Caduceus blinks mildly surprised before his unfamiliar features shift into a warm smile that has Eodwulf feel quite a lot of inappropriate things he didn’t expect to find in a place like this.

“Gardener. Maker of fine tea. A decent cook. Keeper of graves“, Caduceus lists of and he uses his long fingers to count the things that are important to him about himself.

“Very powerful cleric“, Jester chimes in from the right. She has Astrid next to her in a chair and Eodwulf is pretty sure that Jester has started to put flowers in Astrid’s hair. But surely he must be mistaken. Who in the Nine Hells are these crazy people?

“Oh, yeah. Well, that too, I suppose“, Caduceus says, his smile still warm like honeyed wine.

“Huh“, Eodwulf says because he can’t for the life of him think of something else to say. But Caduceus is yet again pulling out a chair for him so Eodwulf straightens his shoulders and sits down next to Caduceus. Across the table from him the angry one throws herself into a chair and stares at him.

There’s no fear there either, but she can be easily angered, something Eodwulf is good at. He gives her a canine smile and she holds up her middle finger.

This group is full of people with an enormous lack of self preservation.

And they are so loud.

Eodwulf almost doesn’t hear it when Caduceus turns to him to ask him a question.

“Huh?“, he says again, like a fool.

“And what are you, was what I wanted to know“, Caduceus says, his lazy grin open and honest. There is no malice in his words. He actually wants to know.

Eodwulf thinks “Murderer, wizard, protégé, spy“ but he doesn’t say any of these things. “Maker of graves“ comes to mind, but it seems like too dark of a joke to make.

“Enthusiastic about both meat and booze“, he says in the end and Caduceus laughs.

“Yeah, as are most of my friends.“

The implication these words bring is probably only in Eodwulf’s mind but it makes him swallow and look away to find Astrid’s eyes. But Astrid now has pink flowers in her hair and a look of absolute confusion on her face as Jester rattles of compliment after compliment about various of Astrid’s features.

Eodwulf can’t help but look at Bre—Caleb. And he sees that there is a soft, barely noticeable smile on his old friend’s face as he watches the scene unfold.

What am I, indeed, he thinks.

*

Trent’s orders have been clear. Get close to the group called the Mighty Nein to find out what they are working on with Lady Vess DeRogna.

Eodwulf allows himself to think that Caduceus might have been right. Maybe Master Ikithon is indeed a fool.

Because being in the presence of these people is like nothing Eodwulf has ever experienced and it makes him think, wonder, question—

“Here we are again“, Caduceus says after, yet again, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited for dinner. Eodwulf wonders if this group just wants to make it very easy to spy on them, or if they have an agenda of their own—but it’s hard to believe that there might be any coherent agenda behind anything these people do.

He has watched the buff one called Yasha try and play what looked like a harp made of bone and when the angry one, Beau, told her that she looked hot playing the harp Yasha had torn two of the strings which had led to a whole scene of apologies and various tries to fix the harp.

Jester has drawn dicks on pretty much every surface this magical mansion has and she delights in the fact that Caleb brings the dicks to life in various colors. At some point he made glowing sparkles shoot out of one of the dicks Jester had drawn and Jester had laughed as if this was the best joke she had ever witnessed.

Eodwulf notices Astrid’s eyes on Jester.

Eodwulf also notices that while there seems to be no agenda or efficiency behind anything, they are still being watched.

Beau and Fjord look at them. And Eodwulf is pretty sure Caduceus watches everything as well, but he does it without crossing his arms and glaring so much.

“Looks like it”, he answers. Caduceus offers him tea and Eodwulf’s first instinct is to decline, but then he remembers that “maker of fine tea” had been very high on the list of descriptors so he takes the cup he is offered while somewhere in the background people start screaming something that sounds like “FLUFFERNUTTER”.

Eodwulf tries the tea. He’s not a fan of tea, but this tea is absolutely delicious and he finds himself impressed.

“I believe this one comes from the Hollburns’ graves. Those remains made the tea grow quite fast, it was impressive.”

Eodwulf blinks at his tea and then at Caduceus. For a second his brain wonders if this statement should register as a threat, but it had been delivered with such honest delight and a sense of pride that Eodwulf discards that feeling.

“What?”, he asks. Caduceus points at the tea.

“Oh, well, my family grows tea on those graves we’re keeping. In case you wanted to ask me again what I am. Or—hm, I think I already mentioned that I am a keeper of graves?”

Caduceus trails off and looks thoughtful and Eodwulf stares at him.

“Keeper of Graves. That make you a follower of the Matron?”, he asks.

Caduceus looks at him and smiles.

“Not quite. My family serves Melora. But we are descended from a champion of the Raven Queen.”

Eodwulf can’t help but wonder if this was some kind of weird joke. But his goddess usually isn’t one for joking.

Eodwulf considers for a second, then he pulls out the raven feather pendant from under his cloak.

Caduceus nods. “So”, he says and smiles widely. “What are you?”

Eodwulf snorts.

“For real?”, he says.

Caduceus’ smile widens.

“For real.”

*

It feels like this has become a sort of game.

“What are you?”

“Moral compass. Middle sibling. Eccentric. Amateur flute player.”

Eodwulf finds that through this question he himself posed the first time, he’s been forced to think more about himself than he feels comfortable with.

“What are you?”

“Decent chess player. Dog person. Sportsman. Only child.”, are the things he says out loud.

“Self-made orphan. Patriot. Volstrucker. Torturer.”, are the things he thinks to himself.

Eodwulf has the impression that Caduceus is somehow aware of the things he doesn’t say.

*

“So. This is the crew you’re running with now?”, Eodwulf asks Bre—Caleb one night before the Mighty Nein will leave with Vess DeRogna to who-knows-where. Neither Astrid nor Eodwulf did get very far with their planned infiltration work. Eodwulf is not even sure how hard they even tried.

It’s very easy to get swept away by the chaos and the weirdness and the complete lack of fear that the group displays when it comes to him and Astrid. They are dangerous people in a lot of ways.

The Mighty Nein are also dangerous people in a very different way. A way that Eodwulf doesn’t know anything about.

“This is my family, ja.”

He says it, just like that, without looking at Eodwulf.

Family.

The word tastes bitter in Eodwulf’s mouth as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

“Weird people”, he says. Caleb huffs.

“You can say that, yes. But they grow on you very quickly”, he answers quietly and with a small, fond smile that makes something inside Eodwulf ache. For a long time Eodwulf pitied Bren for breaking, for not making it, for failing, for being locked away and discarded. Now he realizes that maybe, in a very macabre sort of way, Bren becoming Caleb through failure was the better end of the bargain.

It feels blasphemous to think that.

“The pink one is especially weird”, Eodwulf finds himself saying and he takes a big swig of whiskey from his flask before handing it to Caleb.

“Ja, I noticed that you seem to have a... uh... particular kind of interest in him. And, if I may add, he in you.”

Eodwulf takes the flask back after Caleb drinks. He contemplates the different sorts of feelings inside his gut as the words sink in. Then he tucks it all away very carefully, just as he learned through many years of being in Trent’s presence.

“Still don’t know what he is”, Eodwulf says. Caleb snorts and shakes his head.

“His people are called Firbolg”, he provides.

“Not sure that’s what I mean. Not anymore, at least.”

It seems dangerous to admit that. Caleb turns his head and looks at Eodwulf with a shimmer in his eyes that Eodwulf can’t read. Many years ago he was able to read Bren like an open book, but Caleb is another book entirely.

“You deserve to have some nice things, you know. You deserve friends. A chance of—hm. A chance of peace. A chance for redemption, if you want it.”

Eodwulf gets up and tugs away his flask.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people. Pain is inconsequential, it’s love that saves them.”

Eodwulf understands the truth in these words now. Bren was broken, Caleb is being healed. Eodwulf doesn’t think that there’s anything left in him that can be saved. Or should be saved.

“Good luck on your journey tomorrow. Don’t die”, Eodwulf says and he leaves Caleb behind.

What are you, he thinks. A sentimental fool.

*

Astrid sits next to him on one of the balconies of her house and looks up at the stars above them. The Mighty Nein have been gone for six days and it has been very quiet.

They sit in silence and share a bottle of whiskey, passing it back and forth instead of words. It’s been like this for many many years that they’ve allowed themselves to just be. Today though, Astrid breaks the silence.

“I’m going to be the one who kills him.”

She says it quietly, without remorse, without indicating that this is a scandalous statement. She says it just how other people would say “I’ll go to bed soon.”.

Eodwulf stops breathing for just a moment. Then he inhales the cool night air and turns his head to look at her.

“Could kill you for treason”, he says. She looks at him and cocks her head slightly, the analyzing gaze of a murderous spy meets its equal in silence.

“I’d love to see you try”, she says. Eodwulf grins. It feels reckless.

“Don’t die”, he says, the same thing he’s said to Caleb before. Astrid regards him for a long moment and Eodwulf takes another sip. “Will you help me or try to stop me?”

Eodwulf considers this for a moment. Would he try to stop Astrid should she try to kill Trent? No. Would he help her? He doesn’t know that either.

“Can’t you just wait for Bren to do it for you?”

“I won’t lose to him again.”

Eodwulf snorts.

Always so competitive.

“That’s some fucked up shit, Astrid.”

“Shut up, Arschloch.”

Eodwulf grins before getting up to stretch. He puts his hands on the railing of Astrid’s balcony and wonders what Caleb’s new family is up to.

Making a new family never came to mind before. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale. While he contemplates the question whether he would help Astrid kill Trent Ikithon, a slow, familiar voice pops up in his head.

“Hey. Uh—Jester told me to send you an update. We’re still alive. Hope you’re good. Got  a new question for you. What will you become?”

The rustling of Astrid’s clothes as she stands up as well somehow tells him that she received a message in her head as well. She steps beside him and puts her hands on the railing next to his.

“They’re persistent”, she says quietly.

Eodwulf nods and inhales.

He doesn’t know what he will become. He didn’t even know that was a question to be asked. The path is clear. It always was.

Pain doesn’t make people.

“Not going to answer?”, she wants to know.

“Don’t have an answer yet.”

It’s unclear to him whether she means her own question or the message Caduceus just sent him.

He answers the sending spell with a simple “I don’t know.”. It takes a few minutes before another message comes in.

“That’s good. Uncertainty is good. It’s the first step in a better direction. I’m going to kill a dragon now. Wish me luck. Good night.”

“I’ll keep you posted on the answer to that question of yours. I’ll see you tomorrow”, he says and leaves Astrid behind on the balcony. Eodwulf thinks about something he hasn’t thought about in a very long time. A priestess in his Matron’s temple once told him: “Death is the only certainty in life.”.

He thinks that Caduceus would agree.

And Eodwulf hopes that the next time he sees that weird, reckless man, he’ll have an answer for him.

[red-writes]

a/n: I literally thought about this before falling asleep and I had the weirdest fucking dream ever it felt too real now I need to write this so-

cw: body description (of junpei), somno, Junpei is a peeping tom, slight angst, fingering.

Junpei to most people is so weird. He’s unusually skinny for a guy his age. His collar bones protrude unfashionably and peak at you from under his too big t-shirt. His waist is slender and fragile, hip bones poking against the material of his pants. His limbs are so slim, it looks as though he hasn’t but an ounce of muscle on him. He acts weird too. He doesn’t talk to anyone and always sures his hair covers that eye of his. Despite other people finding him weird or awkward, you found him cute. Befriending him was a task all in itself, it was hard to but even harder to maintain a friendship with him due to him always keeping people at arms length. The truth is, you wanted to know him better- get closer to him. What started out as small kindlings of feelings grew and grew into the now roaring fire you held inside your heart. The rare smiles you’d get from him, the way his eyes lit up whenever you complimented him— those small things accumulated overtime until you left with a huge mass of emotions that you had no clue what to do with.

Maybe except one thing.

He looked so surprised, so happy when you told him how you felt, when you handed him that beautifully decorated letter. His face was slowly turning a mean shade of red. What you were expecting to come though didn’t, seeing as he told you he couldn’t accept your feelings. You gave him a sorry half smile that caused a pain within his chest that almost made it hard to breathe. You turned on your heel and walked away, hands clutching the small letter to your chest.

Rejection hurt. Your mother always says “the worst thing that can happen is that they tell you no” but it seemed she was for once, wrong. The friendship you’d worked so hard to build and maintain crumbled in a single second, like a sandcastle hit with ferocious tides. He didn’t speak to you anymore— in fact he avoided you, purposely taking the long routes to class so he didn’t have to see you, eating lunch on top of the roof so he didn’t have to eat with you. Scratch that, rejection didn’t hurt it fucking stung like a bee except this time it was your heart having the allergic reaction.

The whole truth is, Junpei was in love with you. In an instant, if he could, he would drop everything for you to be his. Seeing as he was already yours, unequivocally yours. But he was sick. The first day you’d began talking to him was the start of his sick desires. It began with following you home, footsteps light and unnoticeable. He just wanted to make sure you were safe, that’s all. Then he started peeking into your window while you slept, he did this all night and passed out on the bus ride to school. Eyes drooping and heavy, bags that scream tiredness. But he couldn’t help it, he just wanted to make sure you were okay, nothing more.

Then it evolved into him breaking into your house. With your parents away for work and you all alone, he had to be the one to protect you, you were so innocent, too innocent and trusting of this evil world. He couldn’t find a rationale for stealing your used panties. Nor could he find a rationale for taking them home and sniffing and licking at the crotch part while he stroked his pathetic cock to your entrancing scent. Junpei realized long ago that he was in love with you, couldn’t you see he was just trying to protect you from himself? He too, was apart of the evil world, in fact he embodied it.

He’d come late one night, his mother holding him up at home before he could leave his house to go see you. When he got there and peered into your window, you were masturbating. A flush rose to his face and his cock jerked to life. This would be the first time he’s ever seen this before. He didn’t sneak in this time, instead opting to watch your fingers plunge in and out of your cunt whilst you whined, he snuck a hand down and began palming his already hard cock from over the fabric of his slacks. That’s when he heard it.

“Junpei!”

His name from your mouth. You were masturbating while thinking of him? He immediately pulled his hand away from his cock in fear that the thought alone would make him cum. He waited for you to fall asleep to finally make his entrance. His breathing was heavy and uneven when he stood in your doorway. He swallowed down some his excitement, he didn’t want to wake you. But today, he was at his limit, he couldn’t hold back his longing for you anymore. He stripped and laid his clothes gently on the back of your desk’s chair. He slid in bed with you and at the mere feeling of your bare skin pressing against his he shivered. His cock was already hard, if he’s honest, the smell of your room—the room filled with your scent, was enough to have him stiff as a rod.

He analyzed your features before doing anything. Your face was scrunched up in a look of sorrow with dried tear stains on your cheeks. He hadn’t known his lack of presence in your life made you so sad, it had a throb of pain shoot through his chest. He didn’t care, he deserved it. You were naked, exposed breasts rising and falling in time with your breathing, your thighs were still spread wide open and a hand was resting between them. Silly girl, didn’t you know you were supposed to clean up after doing something like this? He’s so excited he doesn’t know where to start first, his fingers lightly tread over your soft skin, running from your neck, down your arm until they reach the smoothness of your thigh. He wants to savor you, take his time but his cock is already beading pre-cum, it’s amazing what you do to him. He cups one of your breasts in his hand and your lips part slightly and he takes advantage of that by placing his lips over yours and he slides his tongue in your mouth. Even in your sleep you’re so needy for him your hips are subconsciously raising off the bed. How adorable, you’re so cute.

Junpei’s fingers pinch your nipple and tug on it which leaves you whining breathlessly into the soft kiss. Junpei finally pulls away after he thinks he’s going to suffocate from lack of oxygen, it wouldn’t be such a bad death if it’s by your hands but he did want to live a little longer to finish the task at hand. He slides his hand down the expanse of your tummy and gently nudges your hand out of the way until his fingers have complete access to your cunt. Junpei’s cock is grinding against your thigh, he’s so turned on and hasn’t even really done much to you yet. He spreads your cunts lips and uses a finger to gently rub up and down your slit. Your pussy feels so nice, it’s soft and mushy and still wet from your earlier activities. He could die happy now, if you were to wake up and hate him he’d be able to live with it—he finally got to feel your cunt with his own fingers.

His decides he wants to explore everything your body has to offer him, he doesn’t want to waste anything. His fingers stumble upon your clit. He curiously runs the raised bud back a forth a bit and your reactions are so perfect. Soft moans keep falling out of your mouth the more he plays with it. He can feel you becoming more and more wet under his ministrations. He takes a chance and slides a finger inside of your cunt. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your soft walls clamping down around his eager finger. Junpei’s breathing picks up and he slips in another finger, he slowly begins moving them in and out, mimicking the movements you did earlier. Your cunt feels heavenly around his fingers, your back is arching now, moans becoming louder as he grinds his cock against your soft body. He’s gonna cum soon.

He hasn’t even stuck his own cock inside of you and yet he’s already on the edge. It’s just your cute reactions are bringing him far closer than he’s ever been before. You’re so perfect like this, brows furrowed as you struggle around in your sleep. His fingers thrust upwards in an attempt to thrust them deeper inside of you. He rubs the pads of his fingers against a spongy spot that has your thighs shaking. He’s panting at this point, his hot breathes are hitting directly against your ear. He can feel your cunt spasm around your fingers and when he tries to pull them out you’re sucking them right back in. Oh god, you came didn’t you? He can’t help the way his hips stutter, his cock twitches as he shoots his cum over your lower half.

He withdraws his fingers from your cunt and he opens his mouth and sucks them clean. He sits up and begins climbing out of your bed. He feels so bad. The guilt is washing over him in waves, he knows he’s sick but that’s why he can’t be with you. His mind can’t help but flash back to the sad look on your face from before. It makes his heart hurt again and begins to get dressed. You sit up, voice still laced with sleep, “leaving already?”

Junpei’s body stiffens once he hears the sound of your voice.

“Junpei I..”

He merely shakes his head and hurries out of your room as quickly as possible, you try and follow him out but your legs feel so heavy you can hardly walk properly. You’re stumbling out of the room and into the doorway.

“Please! Wait- Junpei!” You call out but he’s already gone, leaving nothing but disappointment in his wake. You can feel the hotness of tears well up behind your eyes as you slump down against the wall, with your knees pulled up to your chest you can do nothing more but cry.

[wonhosbuttflower]

Hurts Like Hell

Pairing: Demon Chan x Human Reader (fem)

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

Words: 6,1k

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

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

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

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

..................................................................................

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘What do you mean?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘So am I.’, you lie.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I’m serious!’, he protests.

‘Sure, you are.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Are you sure?’, he insists.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I…’, you kiss his left cheek.

‘Love…’, you kiss his right cheek.

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

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

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

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

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

‘Why not?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘But what?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[troublesometrollhunters]

Hello! I would like to ask for a request please! (Is this how it happens?) but I would like to request the creep slayers helping out Werewolf!reader with their shift on the full moon? Like reader is worried that they’ll accidentally hurt them but instead they end up being a big sweat heart who just loves to chase rabbits and get good scratches behind the ears? You can make it as fluffy as you want or not at all! I do wish for it to be platonic but you can make it romantic if you wish I don’t mind! I hope you have an awesome day! 🤗💖😊 (also feel free to ignore/delete this one if your at all overwhelmed or it breaks the rules or you just don’t feel like it!)

~ You'd gotten into a scuffle with a weird looking dog creature a couple nights ago. It was during one of your patrols and the stupid thing bit you before running off. At the time it only stung a bit, there was some blood but no need for stitches as the bite wasn't deep enough. It shredderd your clothes but thankfully your arm was more or less okay.

~ You'd bandaged it and called it a day thinking nothing of it. But for some reason it'd been itching really bad all day and even stung a bit, you didn't know why. Going to Eli worried it might be infected he seem concerned. After school he took you home and did a couple tests in his room. As he continued looking under his microscope and writing things down, he swallowed nervously once he had his results.

~ Stealing his paper it was all science jargon. You couldn't really understand the prognosis. Eli doesn't want to say anything but after pressuring him because it's your body and he should tell you and after annoying him by asking what certain words meant the nerd gives in. Apprentally that dog that bit you while you were fighting? Not a dog.

~ You call Steve to have a meeting to discuss what you should do. The bite was burning because it was a full moon and in a couple hours you'd transform for the first time. You don't say what's happening over the phone incase Steve panics but it sounds important so he hops on his vespa and skips practice. Apprentally you made it sound wicked scary and he was super concerned about your health. When he gets there and he's handed the paper Eli had made he's confused too. Once Eli and you explain the situation he nods.

"Wait so (Y/N)'s gonna turn into a big slobbery dog?" He asks looking confused.

"A werewolf Steve. I'm gonna transform into a werewolf." You correct and Steve just hums and nods.

"Badass." He states still nodding.

"STEVE!" You and Eli scold and he hums.

~ Steve keeps you calm about the whole situation while Eli begins looking up when there's nights with a full moon. He starts making alarms on your phone for when the full moon will be every month so you can prepare.

~ Steve is pretty excited! His best buds gonna turn into a beast AWESOME! Eli's more on the worried side like you. He's worried you'll get hurt or you'll hurt yourself or you'll hurt someone else? And what happens if you bite someone and this spreads? That could be dangerous but they couldn't just kill you? Your not like other freaks your their friend!!!

~ You decide to have a sleepover that night. You'll watch stupid movies and eat food in the basement and they'll watch you transform and make sure you don't bite anyone before locking you up for the night. It's kinda scary to think about but it's for everyones good.

~ They watch you transform and it's painful. Bones crack, furr sprouts, and sounds a human shouldn't make are made as you growl and whine. Eventually it's done. Steve and Eli run upstairs before locking the door and your left with a raw steak.

~ You begin scratching at the door after awhile. You let out whines like any dog would and howl a bit. After some silence they hear a thud and suddenly it's quiet. Eli suggests they check it out and Steve nods. Neither of them open the door.

~ Finally Steve gives in at Eli's pestering and running into the basment bat out and ready to use your gone. Eli begins panicking as Steve freaks out. Both of them trying to figure out how you got out until they see the basements tiny but now open window.

~ Steve puts Eli on his vespa and they're off searching for you. Eli suggests getting backup but Steve wants to find you. If him and Eli did this they can fix it. Plus he doesn't want to ask Jim for help. They could handle it. After all it's just you. Werewolf or not this is their friend.

~ Armed with squeak toys, raw steak, and silver the boys go searching for you. Eli blows a dog whistle hoping to summon you and Steve squeaks a toy as he holds a bat looking around. Suddenly there's a growl. Turning there you are. Eli panics and throws a ball at your face before hiding behind Steve. Steve holds out his bat concerned.

~ You bark before you roll the ball towards Steves feet. Steve pauses staring at you before slowly placing his bat down. You yip bending down and wiggle your tail as you stare at the ball then him. You nudge it towards him again tail wagging.

~ Steve reaches out and you make pleased sounds as he gives you scratches. Kicking your foot and wagging your tail you pant happy. Your not being threatening and you don't seem like a danger. You basically a big puppy dog.

~ You paw at Steves clothes and suddenly the blonde teen is pinned. You chuff in his face before getting off of him and leaning down. You bounce back and forth and Steve laughs playing with you.

~ Eli makes observations as you and Steve wrestle together. You bark and roll ontop of him pinning the jock as he laughs and struggles underneath you. You get off and bat at him playfully as you two continue to goof off. Surprisingly your very careful and don't try to bite either one of them.

~ You follow them home getting bits of steak as you do. As Eli falls onto his bed next to Steve you lay on top of them and whine before yawning and settling down. Steve pets you to keep you calm and eventually all of you are cuddled together sleeping.

~ When you wake up you have a very intense headache. Your dehydrated and you feel like you ate something awful but otherwise you feel okay. You get breakfast and make some for the boys. When you wake up you make the CreepSlayer sign to show your fine and you all eat as they tell you about last night.

~ It becomes a CreepSlayerz tradition to have a sleepover every full moon and the boys wach over you. Eventually they go on patrols with you in your werewolf form and the creeps get the message not to mess with the CreepSlayerz.

(Might make a part two this was cute)

[disgruntledspacedad]

The Rules of Engagement (4/5)

part of the The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do. 

words: 3.7k

warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence, general trauma. 

a/n: unbeta’d. Yeah, I know - I can’t count. This is gonna be five chapters. 

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Murphy nearly bowls you over on his way down stairs, pulling up short when he sees you. 

“Shit!”

You glance down at yourself. Your clothes are rumpled and covered in ash and bile. You don’t even want to know what your face looks like. There’s rubble in your hair.

Murphy is still staring open-mouthed.

“The pharmacy below my apartment got bombed,” you explain hollowly. “I’m fine, I just need a shower.”

“You look like you need a hospital,” Murphy counters, eyeballing you with something akin to worry. “Fucking Christ, Ears, if Javi -”

You snap your eyes up at the mention of Javi. “Have you heard anything?”

For the first time since you’ve met him, Steve Murphy cracks a grin at you. “On his way home now.” He looks as relieved as you feel. “We got him.”

You manage to smirk back. “Good.”

“Congratulations, by the way. This one’s on you as much as anybody.”

“Thanks.” You sag against the side rail, trying to be subtle about it. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, your legs are shaking, and you think it’s only a matter of time before you fall over.

Murphy notices, because he reaches for your shoulder to steady you. “I really think-”

“No.” You cut him off forcefully, glaring at him with all the energy you have left. “No, Steve. I’m tired, that’s all.”

He sighs. Narrows his eyes. Frowns. “You’re bleeding.”

What?

Murphy gesturers to your temple with a finger that you have to stop yourself from flinching away from. “You’re bleeding, Ears,” he repeats, as if he’s expending a great amount of patience by pointing it out to you.

You reach up, wincing as you notice for the first time that your head hurts. When you draw your fingers back, they are coated in blood.

Murphy moves closer to get a better look.

“It’s just a scratch, Murph,” you tell him wearily. As far as you can tell, that’s true. There’s no gaping hole or giant gash, just a stinging little cut right at your hairline. “You know how head wounds are.”

He’s still glaring suspiciously at you, and you let him, meeting his gaze in silent challenge.

Eventually he sighs. “Okay, your funeral, I guess. Gimme a minute.”

Before you can retort, he ducks back inside, leaving you standing awkwardly on the front step. The walls are thin - you can hear him rummaging around in the kitchen. He’s back seconds later, key in one hand, a slip of paper in the other.

He hands you the paper first. “This is my pager number. Javi’ll be back soon, but I want you to contact me if anything crazy happens.” He motions to your head with his thumb.

“Okay,” you promise.

“And here’s this.” He presses the key into your hand.

You look up at him wide-eyed. “Murphy, you can’t just give me Peña’s key.”

“What, you think it would be any different if I stepped across the landing and did the honors for you? I’m already late.” He runs a hand through his hair with a huff. “Besides, he’d want you to have it.”

Somehow, you seriously doubt that.

Murphy fixes you with a stare. “Trust me.”

“Hardly,” you mutter, taking the key from his hand anyway. You hold it up for emphasis. “But you’re taking the fall for this one, alright?”

Murphy rolls his eyes. “I think I can live with that. Stay safe, Ears, and page me if you need anything.”

♠

You resist the urge to flop down on Javi’s sofa and sleep for a thousand years, instead making your way to the shower. Peeling away your dusty clothes feels so incredibly good. So does the hot water. You take your time, exploring the lingering aches and pains in your body as you scrub them with Javi’s little sliver of Irish Spring. Aside from a few bruises and that one little slice on your temple that won’t quit oozing, you’re not injured anywhere. You think you might be a little sore from being thrown backward tomorrow, and your lungs still feel funny and raw from having the air knocked from them, but otherwise, the bombing of your apartment is more inconvenient than anything.

You try very, very hard not to think about Emilio.

You step out of the shower only when the water runs tepid, the cold jarring you awake. Javi only has two towels, it seems - one left out to dry on the towel rack, the other crumpled in the corner with a pair of boxers. Nice. You opt for the one that’s on the rack, wiping yourself down then wrapping up your dripping hair.

There’s something deliciously deviant about sneaking naked through Javier Peña’s apartment when he’s not home. You shake away your guilt, trying hard not to be too weirded out or too turned on as you rifle through his dresser drawers. You’ve got to wear something.

Eventually, you come away with the green t-shirt and the only pair of sweats the man owns. You eye yourself in the mirror, considering. Javi’s clothes are ridiculous on you - you have to roll the sweats three times at the waist just to keep from tripping - but hell, at least you aren’t naked. Looks like that cut finally stopped bleeding, too.

Carefully, you pull your hair into a sloppy braid and gather your dirty clothes, doing a cursory sweep of the apartment to see if Javi has anything else that needs washing. Other than the little pile in the bathroom, you find a t-shirt and a pair of mis-matched socks in the corner by the nightstand. Not bad for a single guy living alone, you decide.

You make the trip downstairs to the communal laundry room quickly, noting the time on the kitchen clock when you return. You don’t feel like waiting beside the machine today. Flopping on the sofa has lost it’s appeal - you’re bone weary, but every time you close your eyes, you see fireballs and charred bodies.

Sleep is not on the agenda.

Sighing, you make your way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, glancing at the clock for the umpteenth time. 9:42. You put the water on, then shuffle downstairs to switch the laundry to the dryer. 40 more minutes, and then you can get out of here.

And then what?

You examine your options and find that the list is short. You aren’t going to stay here any longer than necessary - you’ve intruded on Javi’s privacy enough. Your only friend in Colombia is Ana, and that’s off the table for obvious reasons. Murphy isn’t at home, and Connie had left for the States just weeks after you’d arrived. Back to work, then.

You decide that’s best anyway. Somebody fucking bombed your apartment. Well, the mark was probably Emilio’s drug store, but still. Bombings don’t happen in Bogotá - that’s a Medellín thing. Especially a civilian target.

The rush of anger that consumes you is staggering. Who did this, and why?  Bombing a business is a very Pablo Escobar thing to do, but a small pharmacy? In Bogotá?

Ana and her father are good people. You know deep in your bones that they aren’t involved in the drug trade. You also have major doubts that this was an accident. So, what the fuck?

The injustice of it all makes you feel small and cold and helpless.

You’re missing something big.

Javi doesn’t have a television in his apartment. Even if you did have access the news, the information that you’re seeking is hardly going to be broadcast on live television, and certainly not so soon.

Work really is the best option, then. Between the bombing and Verdugo’s arrest, the sicarios must be on red alert. Maybe you can pick up on some chatter. 

Besides, you probably need to let Stechner know about your situation as soon as possible.

You glance at the clock. 10:07.

Ugh. You rise up on your tiptoes, bouncing in frustration. Caffeine and adrenaline have made you jittery. There’s something really cringe-worthy, too, about being alone in Javi’s apartment without his knowledge, especially given the way things ended between you.

The memory chafes, and you shake your head hard enough that it throbs.

Goddamn this day.

A shrill beeping jerks you from your thoughts, and you barely manage to stifle a shriek. Your pager!  You’d forgotten all about it. Your stomach swoops as you pick it up.

The number that flits across the screen belongs to Javi.

You take a breath. Weird. Aside from that one brief conversation yesterday, you haven’t spoken to him in weeks. It probably has something to do with Verdugo, you decide. Maybe he wants to inform you personally. That would be nice of him. After all, this was a pretty big arrest for you, too.

You locate the phone in the kitchen, dialing the number with trembling fingers. Damned coffee.

“Peña.” His voice is terse, clipped.

“Got your page,” you say warily. He sounds like he’s in a mood. “Is there -”

“Where are you?” he demands, cutting you off harshly.

You blink, startled. Forget ‘a mood,’ Javi sounds fucking livid. You’d assumed he’d be pretty relaxed, considering. “Umm, I’m actually at your place,” you speak slowly to hide the shakiness of your voice. Fuck, of all the times to get emotional. “Listen, my apartment was bombed. I just needed -”

You’re interrupted again by a sharp sigh. “Stay there,” Javi grinds out, and then there’s nothing but dial tone.

Slowly, you place the phone back in its cradle, processing the conversation.

What. The. Fuck.  

Bits of plastic clatter to the floor as the pager smashes into the refrigerator - you’re hardly even aware of throwing it. You sink to the kitchen floor, cradling your head in your hands and doing your damnedest to just breathe.

It’s not fucking fair. He was the one who stormed out slamming doors. You haven’t pressed him, haven’t been a nuisance. Well, aside from basically breaking into his apartment and borrowing his shower.

But fucking hell, somebody - probably Pablo Escobar -  just bombed your fucking apartment. You’re living in a foreign country and you don’t even speak the fucking language. There’s nowhere for you to go, and your clothes were a mess, and goddamn, you are just tired.

What were you supposed to do?

Footsteps thunder up the stairs. God, that was quick. You manage to leap to your feet just as the front door slams open with a bang.

Javi stops dead when he sees you, and your tirade dies in your throat.

“Hey.” It’s awkward, but it’s all you can manage.

He’s just staring at you, standing stalk still in the open doorway. He’s breathing heavily, like he’s been running. His expression is tight, carefully closed off. One fist is clenched at his side, the other still gripping the doorknob.

“Murphy let me in,” you babble. You knew he was on his way, but still, his sudden appearance startled you. “My place, I mean, the drugstore -”

“I know.” He’s toneless, expressionless, frozen except for his eyes. They rove over your face and body, and you’re reminded suddenly of watching him read reports - quick, efficient, and exacting, like he’s taking in every detail in an instant.

Fuck. Heat rushes you as you remember that you’re still wearing his clothes. “Okay,” you breathe shakily, hardly aware of speaking aloud. This is getting weird, and you really don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with Javier Peña’s shit today.

Your laundry is probably dry anyway.

“Where are you going?” Javi demands, resting a hand on your shoulder as you attempt to push past him.

That does it. “To get the laundry!” you bite back, twisting away from his touch with a lot more drama than is really necessary. “My clothes are dry!”

He pulls away as if burned, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

You stand there like that for a long moment, just assessing each other. You’re glaring up at him warily, sizing him up, while he watches you with an expression that you don’t recognize.

“I’ll go,” he says softly. There’s something quiet, almost regretful in his tone, and it shatters your defenses. You bit your lip and nod shakily, and then he’s gone, descending down the stairs without another word.

Jesus.

You exhale another shaking breath - everything you do seems shaky, today - and pour another cup of coffee.

♠

You feel like you’ve got a little more control of yourself once you’re back in your own clothes. Javi is lighting a cigarette at the kitchen table when you exit the bathroom, a fresh butt still hot in the ashtray next to him.

“Rough night?” you ask, dropping his half-folded t-shirt and sweats onto the counter.

He huffs sarcastically.

You sigh. Your patience is wearing very, very thin, but you decide to try one more time, just for the hell of it. “Congratulations, by the way. Murphy told me about Verdugo.”

He blinks up at you, like you’ve pulled him from deep thought. “Yeah,” he says slowly, still staring at you with an intensity that’s starting to really freak you out. He pulls hard at the cigarette, and the moment breaks. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

You nod, suddenly tired.

He notices. “Ears?”

“I need to go back in,” you cut him off before he can ask whatever he was going to ask.

He frowns. “Didn’t you just leave this morning?”

Frazzled as you are, it doesn’t occur to you to ask how he knows that. “Yeah, Peña, I did,” you snap. “But then some fucker bombed my apartment, and I’ve got a nasty feeling that it has something to do with Pablo Escobar. I can’t go home, and I can’t get any sleep, so I might as well make myself useful and see if there’s anything worth listening to today.”

His gaze had drifted during your speech. He’s resting his jaw on his his palm, staring off into the middle distance.

Ugh.

“So, will you drive me, Peña, or am I calling a cab?”

“Sorry,” he says softly, breaking himself out of whatever stupor he’d been in. He stands and extends a hand like he might like to reach for you before deciding against it and grabbing his gun instead. “Of course I’ll drive you, if you feel like going in.” He catches your eye as he tucks the gun into his belt, serious now. “I really am sorry about your home, Ears.”

God. All Javier Peña has to do is throw you a tiny bone, and you fucking melt. The relief you feel is palpable. “Thank you,” you whisper, closing your eyes for a long second.

You hear him rustling around with keys. “Let’s go, then.”

♠

The car ride to headquarters is silent. Javi smokes three more cigarettes, tossing the butts out the open window before you even hit the parking lot, one after the other. You wonder what the fuck is going on with him.

He makes a point to let you out of the passenger side door, a little quirk that had been hit or miss before, depending on his mood. You walk together up the embassy steps, him hanging close to your shoulder but not quite touching you, and you wonder if this is his strange way of apologizing for the weirdness before.

You’re halfway to Stechner’s office when you realize that Javi is still following you. You arch a curious brow in his direction. He pointedly ignores it.

Okay, seriously. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” The question comes out a lot harsher than you intend, but hell, it’s been a terrible day.

He glances down at you, almost apologetic. “It can wait a minute.”

“Ears!”

Oh, fuck. Steve Murphy is running up the hallway, gaze zeroed in on you.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, just whirls on Javi. “Javi, what the fuck is she doing here?”

You bite the inside of your cheek in an effort to keep from screaming. “I’m trying to go do my job, Murphy, if the fucking DEA will let me.” Thankfully, your voice comes out pretty level.

Javi’s looking at Murphy with a narrowed gaze, head cocked, hands on hips. “What do you mean, Murphy?” he asks in a low voice.

Murphy throws his hands up in consternation. “I mean she should be in bed, or at a fucking hospital. You should have seen her this morning, Javi. Looked like she’d come straight from a war zone!”

Javi whips around to stare wide-eyed at you. “Wait. You didn’t say…” All of the color is draining from his face. “You were there?” 

Something about the breathlessness the words, like they’d been punched out of him, sends little shocks of electricity zinging across your skin. “I’m fine,” you manage. As protests go, it’s pretty weak.

“God, Ears, you’re still bleeding.” Goddamn Steve Murphy and his fucking preoccupation with your blood. “Now get out of here, please, before I call you an ambulance. Jesus.”

Javi’s face is a storm cloud of emotions as the pieces continue to click into place. “Ears,” he growls, more horrified than angry. He grips you carefully by the shoulders, looking you over again. This time, he brings his fingers gently to your temple. They come away bloody.

He sucks a sharp breath, glancing up at Murphy. “You’ll handle Verdugo?”

Murphy’s lips are pressed into a fine line. “Absolutely, Javi. Get her out of here.”

♠

He escorts you from the building with a hand pressed firmly against the small of your back. It would be sweet, if not for the blistering pace and the stony expression that’s frozen on his face. People take notice, leaping out of your way, craning their necks to watch as you storm by. By the time you reach the doors, your cheeks are flaming.

“Agent Peña!”

Oh shit. You hadn’t even noticed Martinez and his entourage milling around the entrance.

“Yeah?” Javi bites out.

Martinez raises a brow at the scene the two of you make - you, bleeding and shamefaced, Javi damned near parading you into the parking lot with all the subtly of a thunderclap.

God, there’s no way this ends well for either of you.

“Verdugo is in interrogation room three,” Martinzes says, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Javi doesn’t even slow. “Stick Murphy on it,” he snaps over his shoulder. “I’m busy.”

Nobody dares argue with him.

♠

Instead of getting into the car, Javi leans heavily against the door.

You pause, opening your mouth to question him, but he reaches for your jaw before you can speak, carefully tilting your face up into the sunlight.

“Are you okay?”

His voice is soft, but he’s looking at you in undisguised concern, eyes roving over you with an intensity that tempts you to drop your gaze.

You shiver. You can’t help it - you’re exhausted and emotional, and things with Javi have been so weird for so long, and now he’s staring at you, sharp and worried, running his thumbs across your scalp to gently assess for injuries.

No, you are not okay.

He notices the little tremor that darts through your body and rests one hand on your shoulder, leaning in to look you straight in the eye. “How far were you from the explosion?”

“Across the street,” you tell him, breathless for all of the wrong reasons. It’s only half-way true, you’d been crossing the street when the bomb had gone off, far closer to the blast zone than you’re leading him to believe. But he’s so close, cupping your cheeks in his hands, leaning forward to shield you from the traffic-side of the parking spot with his body as he continues to draw his fingers across your skin, gently assessing for more damage.

“It just knocked me off my feet,” you continue. Your throat is suddenly so dry. “Startled me, more than anything.”

Javi reaches with one finger to expose the wound on your temple. It’s still oozing.

“And this?” he asks, pinning you with another piercing stare.

You reach up, catching his hand as his fingers begin to drift down your cheek. He twitches reflexively. “Just a little scratch,” you promise him. “Falling glass, or shrapnel, I guess. Something grazed me. I never hit my head.”

This is not a lie. You never blacked out; you’re not hurt.

He blusters a sigh, scrubbing his face with his palm for a brief second. “I should really take you to the hospital.” His jaw tightens as he speaks.

“I just said I didn’t hit my head. I’m fine.” You indicate the wound on your temple. “This is nothing. You know how head wounds like to bleed.” You look up at him, projecting as much wide-eyed, awake, vibrant woman as you possibly can after walking away from a fucking bomb, and squeeze his hand in reassurance. “Please, Peña. I just want to go -”

Home, you almost say.

You stop yourself just in time. There is no home, not anymore. And you won’t make the mistake of referencing Peña’s place as anything other than ‘Peña’s place.’ That would be supremely stupid, given all of the recent drama.

“To bed,” you manage instead. “I’m just tired.”

And god, that is the truth.

If Javi notices your faux pax, he doesn’t mention it. He’s hardly taken his eyes off you. He’s near enough that you can feel the heat of his skin, one hand still twined in yours.

It’s all you can do to avoid resting your head on his chest.

“Okay,” he mutters begrudgingly, and then shakes his head like he hadn’t meant to agree. “I’ll take you home.”

You smile wanly at him. “Thanks.”

♠

author’s notes/confessions

I know you still have questions. I promise you, I will answer them.

Steve Murphy is a good bro.

Y’all hit me up if you want a little Javi one-shot after this next chapter. I wrote it for my own reference, but it might be a fun read, if you’re wondering what’s happening inside his head right now.

@tiffdawg​, look what you made me do. ;)

[genevievemd]

head scratches e and g

Confessions

Book: Open Heart: Third Year Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure) Word Count: 1399 Rating: G Category: fluff, hurt/comfort Trope(s): and they were in the office

Summary: MC has been feeling unsteady, and Ethan has finally noticed. 

No Warnings

A/N: this turned into a post ch 4 (bk 3) fic. Because I’m a little disappointed that PB didn’t let us talk to Ethan about the weird shit he was doing with Harper. Also look at me, once again using a one word title, because I suck at titles and its 3 am and I’m too tired to try to come up with something better. 

The sun sets outside the floor to ceiling windows, casting the diagnostics office a dance of shadows and lights. Ethan gets up from the desk, walking over to shut off the fluorescent lights leaving the room in growing darkness. He rolls his neck as he returns to the desk, turning on the lamp on the wooden surface. 

He’s felt a migraine forming all afternoon, since Leland’s bombshell that Ethan’s rival would now be joining his team. The sense that all control is steadily slipping through his fingers, growing by the day, by the hour it seems. 

What was promised to be a democracy was now nothing but a dictatorship disguised in new equipment and pay raises. 

Ethan closes his eyes, leaning back in the chair, desperately trying to cling onto the thoughts of the one good and stable thing he has left. 

Genevieve. 

“How are you feeling?” 

A soft voice breaks through the silence, Ethan opening his eyes to see the very thing he was thinking of standing in the doorway. A pleasant warmth runs through him, he’s not a man that believes in fate, but there is something utterly divine in the way she appears at the very moment he needs her. 

Genevieve walks to the desk, every step that brings her closer settling the anxiety and rage boiling inside him. She smiles sweetly at him, perching herself on his desk.

“Like I’m slowly losing control.” Ethan sits up, a hand coming to rest on her knee, thumb tracing circles on her skin. “It’s bad enough we have to deal with Bloom, but now I have to contend with Tobias as his lapdog, as well.” 

“You have me, though,” Her green eyes fill with warmth as she leans forward, holding his cheek delicately in her hand. “And I’ll always be on your side.” 

“I know. I’m incredibly thankful for that, believe me.” 

They share a smile, that four letter word swirling around his head for the umpteenth time as they get lost in each other. Gen breaks the spell, hopping off the desk and settling in his lap. His arms come around her without a second thought, pulling her impossibly closer. 

“How can I help?” Her words are nothing more than a whisper as her fingers trace his jawline. 

“There’s nothing you can do, unfortunately.” 

“I can at least try and alleviate some stress. It’s what girlfriends are for, after all.” 

The word girlfriend sparks something inside him, setting his heart into a rapid beat. They haven’t discussed terms, which is mostly his fault. In the moments when he has Gen alone, he spends the time doing everything but talking. The need to make up for the months he had spent pushing her away taking precedence over defining what they are to each other. But he knows they need to have that talk soon, he can see her growing impatient and hesitant with each passing day. 

Gen takes off his glasses, tossing them onto the desk. She threads her fingers in his hair, scratching lightly as she goes. He closes his eyes again, forehead coming to rest on her shoulder as her fingers continue to weave through his hair.  

“I meant what I said at lunch, G. Just having you in the room makes me feel more at peace.” 

“Should I stop then?” 

“Absolutely not.” He kisses the side of her neck, nuzzling sweetly. “I will take any and all forms of affection from you.” 

“Quite the difference from last year, Doctor ‘We Need a Reset’.” 

“We all have a lapse in judgment from time to time.” 

“Mhm.” He can feel her giggle, his arms tightening around her. 

They settle into an easy quiet, drawing comfort from a shared space. 

As much as he wants to get lost in her touch, he can’t help but fall back to the thoughts of Gen’s newfound uncertainty. Ethan’s half sure it has something to do with him, but he hopes more than anything that it’s not. Praying instead that it all falls to the new easy comradery of the team and the ever growing changes their employer makes. 

He wants nothing more than for Genevieve to confide in him, lean on him in the same way he leans on her. 

“Are you going to tell me what’s been bothering you lately?” 

“It’s not important anymore.” 

“I beg to differ, Gen.” He presses a kiss to her shoulder before lifting his head to look at her. “You’ve been tossing and turning every night for a week. Something is wrong.” 

“I don’t want to ruin the moment or make you feel more stressed.” 

“So it’s me?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You didn’t have to.” His brows furrow at her lack of honesty, she’s never been this closed off before. Its unnerving and so unlike her. Fear settles deep in his bones as their eyes meet, the need to find a solution growing with every second that passes. “I can’t fix it if you aren’t forthcoming.” 

“It’s already fixed, kind of.” She sighs, adverting her eyes from him again. “Harper more or less set things straight.” 

“Harper?” Ethan tilts his head, face scrunched in confusion. 

“I was... feeling unsteady, about my place on the team and with you.” 

“With me? The team I can understand, but I thought things were fine between us.” 

Her face drops, taking a breath. “You really have no idea?” 

Gen gets up from his lap, moving back to her previous spot on the desk. The distance she places between them is small, but enough to make his heart ache fiercely. 

“Let’s put it this way, if my ex joined the team and I spent more time reminiscing about our history - weddings and flamenco lessons and dates at some intimate bistro named after a freaking Disney character - and you had to sit here, constantly interrupted, looked over and forced to listen to every second of it, how would you feel?”

“I was doing that to you.” The pain he feels is instant, regret following quickly after. “I didn’t realize.” 

“Which, if I’m being honest, Ethan, makes it hurt ten times more. Because that says that you didn’t think of me or my feelings at all.” 

He wants to jump up and dispute her claims. She’s the only thing he thinks of on most days and it kills him that he’s somehow made her feel the opposite.

“I don’t care that you’re friends with your ex, Harper is wonderful. But when you sit here and talk about dates you went on and veer off topic to bring up some inside joke, it makes me feel like you don’t respect me or our relationship. Like this is a casual fling you could quickly let go off and not a committed relationship. Like I’m an afterthought and that isn’t fair to me.” 

Ethan stands from his chair, unable to cope with the distance between them any longer. He steps in front of her, holding her face in his hands. “This isn’t causal, Gen. Far from it. And you’re not an afterthought, you never have been.” 

“Yeah, well actions speak louder than words and half of your actions lately say otherwise.”

“You’re right. I was being inconsiderate and tactless” He can see by the way she pulls away that his words aren’t enough. If he’s going to really set things back into place, Gen is going to need a real apology. 

Ethan lets out a breath, holding her gaze for a long moment. “It was wrong of me to do that to you, even worse that I did it without realizing. Your thoughts and feelings are important to me, they take precedence. I’m sorry, Genevieve. Truly. It won’t happen again.” 

“Thank you.” She reaches for his hand, interlacing their fingers. 

“Not that there’ll be a next time, but should I do something this imbecilic again, feel free to call me out on it sooner rather than later.”

“Trust me, I will.” 

Her smile returns, brighter than it was when she’d walked in ten minutes ago. Ethan leans forward, pressing his lips to hers in a bruising kiss. He gets bolder when she sighs, as she opens up to him and threads her fingers through his hair. 

“This is teetering towards a pg-13 rating.” Gen mutters against his lips, their foreheads pressed together as they catch their breaths. “Take me home.” 

“Whatever you want, Rookie.”

a/n: it took me all week to get this to a point where I liked it enough to post it. But we did it and I like it enough. 

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[bonny-kookoo]

Charming Girl (J.JK x Reader) 🎀☁️💜🔞

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Good Girl!AU, Angst (a bit), Fluff, Smut of course because I can’t write anything normal these days smh

Warnings: Koo has a fight with his GG and says some mean things, Taehyung has a brief appearance and it’s actually all sfw and fluffy but he curses a lot so beware, smut, usage of toys (a vibrator to be specific), manhandling/restriction of movement, GG swallows because y’all should empty the plate when the meal is good, Mentions of past infidelity and overall toxic relationship, there’s a scene where Jk spits in GGs mouth, pls don’t judge lmao

Summary: Jungkook really didn’t mean to say the things he did. He’s not even sure how his brain could even come up with such hurtful things; yet he did, and now, knowing that you’ve taken shelter in Taehyungs apartment out of all places, he’s forced to clean up his mess- and for the first time he can’t ask you for help.

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl || Charming Girl || Enticing Girl

Taglist: @sweetenedcooky @ggukkieland @btsismybias22 @darkgvk @daddypkj @flowerprincess24 @crazylittlemay @zeharilisharaban @teresaisla @tangledsparkles

You had everything planned out. You even thought about making an entire PowerPoint presentation on why this was a good idea, why this should be done immediately; yet you decided against it, simply planning on explaining it to him the traditional way instead of overdoing it. This was technically his apartment after all, you were simply living with him and sharing rent and space.

Ever since you were small, your family had pets. Your parents had a dog that died sadly when you were young, later on you got your own pet; a guinea pig named Harold, whom you had all throughout your childhood. Harold died of old age when you were barely 14, and you felt as if your heart had been ripped out and buried in your yard instead of the small Tricoloured body. Ever since then you had promised yourself to get another pet when you were older.

When you had your first relationship, it lasted for a year or so, your ex had never wanted a pet. He'd complained that it was as if he was getting a child- and that he wasn't ready to be a dad yet. So you never got one during that time, even though time and space were there.

Now at 22, you had the space and time (and money most importantly), yet you didn’t have the approval of your dear housemate and boyfriend living with you. You didn’t really think it would be an issue honestly; he’d always been an animal lover- so you couldn’t quite understand the situation you got yourself in.

„But look, I’m gonna do all the work, I’ll only have them in my room, you won’t even notice they’re there!“ you whined, walking after him out of the kitchen. You knew you were being a little childish; he’d said two times already that no, not right now, and no, because no. He couldn’t quite give you a full answer that could satisfy you, and you had already noticed that he was grumpy, but you had grown so safe around him that you didn’t spot the warning signs.

„God y/n can you please sh-...“ he inhaled, rubbing a hand over his face, trying to calm himself. „Please, not now. I’m really not in the mood.“ he said, and you pouted at him. Usually he would find it cute, but right now he was too riled up to really let his vision lead his thoughts. He’d recently started to get more and more agitated whenever he came home, always tired and frustrated. And he didn’t tell you what it was, so maybe that had fueled your pettiness towards him.

„Well tomorrow you’re gonna be grumpy too!“ you said, raising your hands, before facing him. „If you can’t tell me why not then I’m doing it anyways! I’m not just going to blindly do what you want just because-„ you said, but he suddenly snapped, voice way more forceful than yours, making you back off a bit.

„Yeah well if you would do what I said you wouldn’t be standing here throwing a tamper tantrum like a fucking toddler!“ he yelled, taking your opening mouth as another attempt in trying to persuade him. You actually however, wanted to apologize. Those words died down inside your throat when his next left his lips. „Can’t you act your age just for a second? I’m really into fucking you, but also acting like a father isn’t on my list of favorites, thank you very much-„

It was almost comical how his own voice slowly lost volume and tune at the end of his sentence, as soon as he saw the way your eyes widened, face evolving into a look of something he never wanted to see, let alone because of him; it was a look of betrayal, hurt, and even shame- because deep down he knew there was a spark of honesty in between his words, but he also knew that this was you, this was something you couldn’t control. And he’d just used these insecurities and flaws against you.

Your delicate hands suddenly clenched, creating small but angry fists, unraveling just to weakly Push his chest, eyes suddenly swimming with frustrated water that trickled down your cheeks. He just stood there frozen, forced to watch how you stormed away into your room, not even his bedroom you two had been sharing these nights, and he still stood in the exact same spot when you emerged again with your small pink sportsbag, rushing past him and leaving his apartment with nothing more than the lingering scent of you, and the suffocating feeling of his own voice still heavy in the air. A chuckle escaped him, lacking any form of happiness or humor as he began to sob into his hand trying to keep his emotions inside. The wall next to him cracked loudly as his knuckles came in contact with it; breaking skin and wall the same, yet the pain he felt inside his soul was greater than the sting of his scratched up hand.

Right now, Jeon Jungkook really hated himself.

You didn’t have high hopes honestly, and as the door opened, you only looked at the mismatched socks of the older friend of Jungkook. Alex didn‘t have an own apartment, and you honestly didn’t have enough money to stay at a hotel, so Taehyung had been the only option left. You had his number still, and he’d answered to your text that he was home; yet you still had some worry down your throat that he wouldn’t let you in. He simply opened the door fully, leading you inside, and showing you were to hang your jacket and leave your shoes.

His apartment wasn’t huge, but it was nice; you didn’t expect what you saw at all. It was warm, it smelled nice- not like your own home of course, but you’d expected his living space to be a bit more.. chaotic. He was quiet, walking into the kitchen and pouring two cups of something, before placing them down on his living room table. Here and there you could spot small things that showed he lived there; his Juul on the windowsill next to his balcony door, polaroids taped onto the wall, or his sweater halfheartedly thrown over the couch. You sat down on the edge of said seating place, your pink socks running over his light wood laminate. It was scratched, showed that he’d moved the furniture a couple of times since he lived here. Your eyes snapped towards the soft looking slippers he tossed next to your feet, shoe size way too small to be his. „My uhm-„ he scratched his head a bit before actually looking a bit shy. „My girlfriend she.. her feet get cold easily on my flooring so uhm, you can use these.“ he said, and for the first time you actually looked at him. His red hair was gone, dyed pitch black, a little curly too- it suited him well, you decided. „Ah yeah I- Guess I wanted a change.“ he said, going into the kitchen to shut down the lights before sitting down, looking at you. „So.. trouble in paradise huh?“ he said, taking a sip of his cup, eyes watching you.

You felt your eyes sting again, and Taehyubg Shuffle around in his spot. “I just..” you said, before reaching for the mug, hands uncaring of the hot temperature seeping into your skin, taking it as a punishment in a weird way. “I didn’t think About him you know? I mean, he told he he likes to take care of me but.. maybe he changed his mind?“ you said, shrugging your shoulders and sighing. „Sorry to invade like that too..“ tryout mumbled, back arching as if to cower. Taehyung clicked his tongue, crossing his legs.

„You’re Not, don’t worry.“ he said, setting his cup down with a crack against the table. His hands were so different from Jungkooks you noticed; fingers longer and thinner, nails wide. He was a tall person, so it made sense. „Jungkook can be.. difficult.“ he said, leaning his head on his hand. „He doesn’t show it but he’s clumsy. That combined with his usefulness when it comes to apologizing doesn’t really make a good mix.“ he admitted, smirking a bit as his phone lit up from the table, showing a notification from Jungkook, before vibrating a bit again and again, stopping at the count of 12. he didn’t comment on it, but continued. „I don’t think he meant what he said in a bad way. I guess he’s having a bad day, which doesn’t make it better honestly.“ he shrugged, and you bit your lip. „Also lean back a bit will ya? You look like you’re about to break a bone.“ he said, and you sat down more properly.

„I’m worried Taehyung.“ you said. „He.. I really like him, but I’m so scared he’ll get tired of me.“ you mumbled, finally taking a sip, hot chocolate swishing over your tongue, liquid warming your throat as you swallowed. „They all do.“ you whispered into the cup, and Taehyung got serious.

„Have you’ve been in a relationship before?“ he asked, and you nodded.

„Hmhm.. he cheated when he noticed I wanted to wait longer than he did. He stayed with me though because I paid for dinner. His words by the way.“

Taehyung laughed humorously, giving you a look of empathy. „Dickhead.“ he said. „Listen, Jungkook doesn’t know how relationships work. He’s horrible at it honestly, worse than me.“ he said, laughing a bit. „He doesn’t know jackshit about stuff, so you gotta teach him.“ he said. „I’m honestly surprised you both are together at all. Cause he knows this, and he never continues in things he’s bad at.“ you nodded at this. Though he knew Jungkook way longer than you did, you also knew this small detail about him. You'd wondered several times before, but you've never asked him openly about his actual dating history. If you were honest you didn't even knew if he had one to begin with. Maybe he'd always been like he was before you? You couldn't know. "What I'm trying to say is-" Taehyung said, breaking the silence, before standing up and patting your head a bit playfully to cheer you up. "Give it time. Don't try and fix things this time; let him do the work for once. God knows he needs a slap in the face once in a while, you've been babying him too much." He laughed, and you actually smiled as well. Maybe you really did need to wait. After all, his words had hurt deep down in your soul, leaving you embarrassed and insecure- he should get his cut of the cake as well. Sharing is caring, and all that.

Whatever the fuck that was he did that night, it definitely hadn't been sleeping, that much was clear to him. He honestly looked like shit, he'd been told at work, and after several hours of snapping at his coworkers because of his headache, he'd been sent home for the rest of the remaining day, leaving him to visit his local doc and calling in sick for the last two days of the week. He highly doubted that he'd gain enough energy to really get anything done- having made mistakes over and over again today, leaving him with a feeling of uselessness. And the worst part?

Coming home.

Now usually, this would be his favorite part; he'd lay his head onto your lap while you looked at something on your laptop in the living room, or he'd get to catch you silently humming along a song on your phone while you cooked something. But he'd fucked things up these days, so his apartment had gotten a stale aftertaste as he walked through his door, nothing greeting him but silence. The lights were off, darkness swallowing the rooms until he switched them on. Has his lights always been so cold? He never noticed anymore whenever you were there.

He knew he was supposed to do something, but exactly that was the issue. He didn't knew what- because even if he asked you for forgiveness, it wouldn't make up for the crack that he'd seen in your eyes, not to mention how he didn't feel like he deserved it at all. He knew you would accept his apology as soon as he'd say it to you, and that made it so much worse for him. He couldn't even start to imagine how easy prey you were for men- and not in any way good.

This had become an issue over time. He felt like he had to protect you from everything it seemed, yet he also wanted you to become more independent- but there was the issue. He was actually scared. Because if you started to become less and less dependent on him,

would you still want him, if you didn't need him?

This had been a question riling him up greatly. It popped up randomly in his head, making it hard to really think of anything else- because deep down there was this voice, telling him that no; as soon as you found the amount of confidence you should have, considering your angelic character in his eyes- you'd start to see what an actual asshole he was. He'd never understood what exactly you saw in him to begin with. Sure, he had the looks kind of, he knew that from the amount of flirty comments he'd get, but character wise he was an absolute garbage can. He was picky, needy of being held in high standards, he craved praise and recognition. He was selfish, wanted everything for himself, and hated sharing anything. He was too honest, swore way too much, and had a chaotic way of keeping track of things.

He'd punched the poor wall in the living room again last night, the remnants still lingering like a bleeding wound, white dust from the broken material scattered over the dark carpet. After he'd heard you went to Taehyung out of all people, he'd completely lost it- eventually falling asleep on the couch, crying like a toddler after a tantrum. Ironic, since he'd called you one, when in reality it seemed that he was the immature one in this relationship.

This time he simply let himself fall onto the couch, a stray blanket still crumpled up pathetically on the cushions, looking almost how he felt. He knew he should do something, but he couldn't get himself to- simply falling onto his side, just to fall asleep, dreams haunting him much worse than before without you there to soothe him.

After staying with Taehyung and his Girlfriend for two days, you felt like you were intruding, in a way. You also didn't like to run away anymore, deciding to face whatever would be waiting for you at home. Jungkooks friend had driven you, asking if he should come upstairs with you but you had declined- this was something you needed to do by yourself.

To say the apartment was a mess was an understatement. Empty noodle cups on the kitchen counter, sink filled with dishes. The bathroom door was open, showing that he'd been showering just recently it seemed, yet the clothes on the floor made you wonder if it was in a hurry. Even though he was chaotic, Jungkook was never really messy in a way. But the way everything looked told a different story.

You also noticed just how dark it was. The curtains were closed, room stuffy from not airing out like you did every morning, and the couch looked like he slept on it. But why? Even if he felt bad, he could at least sleep in his own bed, you wondered.

But you also noticed the lack of the person in question.

Worried, you crept into the bedroom, not finding him there. What helped to ease your mind however was, that his open dresser was still filled with clothes- he didn't leave.

So wherever he was, maybe at work? You decided to clean up, and get things a bit more comfortable around the small apartment. He did tell you to be mature, after all.

Opening the apartment door with a bit of struggle considering the items in his hands, he instantly noticed something different. Maybe it was the fresh air, the amount of light in the apartment, or the fact that soft music played in the background, dishes clattering in the kitchen. He slowly set down everything he'd bought, almost tip-toeing into his home, eyes widening upon your form standing in front of the sink, hands occupied inside soapy water. You didn't turn around, but he could see in the way you bit your lip that you'd noticed him already, yet chose not to look at him. You feared one look would be enough to set you off, make you cry, and you knew this would probably end up as something new he could complain about. Okay, maybe not, you knew he wouldn't, but you were so unsure how to act around him now that it just felt.. awkward.

And Jungkook hated it.

He chewed on his lip as well, moving to get the stuff he'd bought set up inside the living room, wordlessly working on setting down the doggy bed, placing the other bags filled with food and toys down as well. You couldn't help but peak around the corner, almost comically leaning behind the wall between the kitchen and living room, only showing a fraction of your face. Jungkook actually chuckled at the picture you posed to him as, although it did sting a bit that you seemed too cautious around him now to actually get closer. "Can you come over here for a second please?" He timidly asked, and you looked a bit hesitant, before eventually walking closer to him, sitting on the floor in front of him, with a bit of space keeping you both apart. He sighed, before lowering his head. "I.. You can't imagine how fucking sorry I am for what I said. I didn't.. I had no right to talk to you like that, and I really fucking regret it." He said, making you nod, not looking at him either, occupying yourself with a stray string of your sock that you'd accidentally put on inside out. "I'm just.. I dont know how to actually explain it without sounding like an ass, so I'll just.." He started, running a hand through his rather long hair. "I've been noticing how you started to change like, you're becoming so much more confident and I love it, I really do, but at the same time it absolutely terrifies me because-" He sighed, scratching his neck and hand reaching out to you, not really grabbing or anything, but simply brushing against your smaller hand with his finger. It was a pathetic gesture really, but he had to clear his throat again before he spoke. "The more you can stand up for yourself, the less you'll need me, and I.. I know I sound like an asshole but I need you to need me, I just.. I need to have you lean on me and like, make me do shit for you because I'm selfish, yeah, I'll admit it. I'm a fucking dick who needs to get his ego stroked and-" Suddenly your hand grabbed his, both hands running over his tattooed skin on the back of his, and he looked at you with the eyes of desperation written in capslock. You smiled at him, so understanding and warm that he felt like crying.

"I'll always need you Jungkookie." You said, scooting forward and straddling him, burying your head into his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him as he wrapped his arms around you, his head in the crook of your neck. "Who's gonna kick someones butt when they bully me in PvP games?" You said, and he chuckled, laughing, and pulled you even closer for a moment before you pulled away from him, brushing his hair out of his eyes and intentionally messily wiping his eyes, making him grin and laugh before grabbing your wrists, kissing your nose, cheeks, your entire face before you gasped for air from laughing so hard, begging him to stop. "What do you-" You said, catching your breath. "What is all that though?" You asked, and he pulled out his phone out of his back pocket, sniffling still a bit as he tapped away on his cracked screen, before he showed you a picture of a small white puppy, pink tongue peaking out of its mouth as it looked at the camera. You squealed, before connecting the dots. The dog toys. The bags filled with food. "No way.." You said, eyes wide as he became a bit shy.

"I know you wanted something small, but.. I found her on our local shelter's website, and I met her yesterday. I thought, a dog could be a good addition-" He said, before you hugged him again, squealing into his chest and making him chuckle. "Don't let yourself be fooled though." His eyebrows raised as he playfully looked at you in a serious way. "She's your personal bodyguard- an absolute killer machine if someone gets too close, we already talked about that." And you had to snort at the image in your head, imagining Jungkook all serious talking to the white fluffy dog about guarding his owner. "We're getting here on Monday, so we got two more days to go until then." He said, and you nodded, not letting go of him. He ran his hand over your head, suddenly more serious again. "I really mean it though." You raised your head at that, looking at him questioningly. "I.. I really like how you are. Deep down I guess I know that you're actually the mature one in this, so I guess I at least want to feel as if I have the upper hand, you know?" He said, and you smiled at that.

"Well, you do though." You said, leaning your head to the side before toying with the hem of his shirt. He looked at you now, before you answered. "I still.. trust you." Your voice got a bit breathier, before you said your next sentence. "You can do all you want with me. I'm yours after all." And he groaned, letting his head fall back. "What?" You questioned amused.

"Don't say shit like that right now-" He whined, trying to force the image of the cute puppy into his head instead of you, lying underneath him in all your glory, ready for him to- nop, no no no, cute puppies, cute puppies. But you didn't understand his standpoint it seemed.

"But why though? Don't you.. you know, want to?" You said hesitantly.

He shook his head. "No, you know I kind of always want to but.. I don't want you to feel as if that's all I want." He said, looking stressed. You smiled again, leaning into him.

"I mean, that's not true. I know that." You answered, before getting a teasing spark inside your eyes. "Either that, or its so good that you go as far as to get me a cute puppy." You chuckled, and his eyes got just as impish as yours, hand smacking your behind in a playful way.

"Careful. You could charm anyone into buying you a dog with those eyes." He said, smirking. You grinned proudly, and he suddenly attacked your neck, lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder, the sound of your laughter music to his ears. He actually hadn't slept in his own bedroom solely because of the reason that he'd be tormented with the memories of you both, showing him almost mockingly what he'd almost lost. Now he didn't feel pressured anymore, he felt as if he was worthy enough to be in here, as weird as it sounded.

Letting you fall onto the mattress, you giggled as you jumped a bit on it, making him grin as he crawled over your form, immediately attacking your lips in a searing kiss, not even asking for entrance at all, simply taking. He slowly grew more and more impatient, hands grabbing and running over your skin almost possessively as he growled out his displeasure about your choice of shelter. He didn't say it out loud because he had no right to talk about it, plus he was deep down grateful that you've spent the night there instead of somewhere else, but he hated the fact that you slept over at Taehyungs place. He knew you'd never be unfaithful, yet he couldn't help but feel insecure when you left, knowing that you could easily find someone else, someone better in his eyes than him. The time apart made him cherish you again in a new way, teeth biting your skin gently, leaving marks on your skin that would soon blossom beautifully in different shades. You mewled at that, his grin reappearing, before he opened his infamous drawer under his bedside table, taking something out that seemed to be still packaged. You looked curiously, yet turned all shades of pink when you saw what it was.

"Hm.. you like it princess?" He asked, opening the plastic and cardboard packaging of the device as you began to grow a little more restless at the sight of it. It appeared to be a vibrator of some sorts, coloring just the way you liked it- soft pink with white details, making you wonder how on earth something so sinful could also look so pretty. You'd never really cared for toys like that, but Jungkook had talked about maybe using them before. "Thought you'd like it." He said lowly. "You're gonna love it once I'm done with you." He promised, glad that he saw the small green LED light up- it luckily came pre-charged, so he could use it right away after he'd cleaned it with a babywipe. "Hm, lets see what it can do, yeah?" he huskily proposed, sitting on his legs in front of you. "Strip princess. Lemme' see my gorgeous baby." He said, and you started to undress just as he told you. You've long stopped feeling self-conscious around him after all the times he'd seen you, and he also always made sure to make you feel good about yourself, so you didn't hesitate anymore when it came to things like these.

As soon as you laid there, bare as the day you joined humanity, he used the tip of the toy to gather your slick between your legs, nudging against your very center, making you jump a bit at the foreign feeling. He smiled like the devil himself as he covered it in your own personal lubrication, before it entered you, making you sigh. It definitely couldn't match up to his own length, that was something you immediately noticed, but once he clicked a button, your whines started to sound in the room, making him smile at the view of your squirming form. Oh how long he'd imagined about this exact moment, the way you moved even more bewitching as he could've imagined to be. His mind tried to burn the image into its memory, the way your toes curled, your hands grabbed the sheets, or how your hips moved in a rhythm only you seemed to feel. "hmm, so sweet. You look absolutely divine like that pretty baby." He hummed, before turning the intensity up, making you gasp a bit. He chuckled, moving the vibrator around a bit so the additional small detail close to the switches and buttons pressed against your clit, making you huff out deliciously. He'd always been addicted to your sounds, the way you responded to him oh so well- he felt like he was watching a goddess unravel in his bed, as cheesy as it may sounded. The way you trusted him, gave yourself to him, let him control you like this- it made him feel as if he was on drugs, higher than he could ever get from any substance people used to cloud their minds with. He didn't need anything illegal or toxic to set himself free and let his mind reset back into place. Not when he had someone like you at his mercy, ready to be played with however he may wanted.

As his free hand moves to fondle your breast, kneading the flesh in an almost massaging way and kissing you silly, you yelled out his name as you came undone, breaking apart just to be put together by him later. Your mouth was open in a silent scream, and as he spotted the small strand of saliva still connecting you both he couldn't stop himself from letting a drop of his own fall onto your tongue, pupils dilating at the way you simply swallowed, uncaring how just plain dirty this entire tiny gesture just was. God he'd buy you an entire kennel full of dogs if it meant he'd get to see you like this, all his and his only. He decided to not enter you as you still whined from overstimulation, taking the toy out of you as you weakly reached for him, asking him to help you sit on a little. He helped you as you clumsily tokk him into your mouth, eyes closed and pace steady as he began to groan under his breath, brushing his hand through your hair as he fondly looked down onto your head, lips around him so perfectly that it didn't take him long to suddenly gasp out, giving him no time to warn you. Yet he only felt you swallow before letting him go, his tip sensitive making him hiss a bit, breathing heavy. "God you're perfect." He breathed out, kissing you feverishly as he slowly calmed down, laying on the bed, toy long forgotten on the floor next to the mattress.

You woke up as you felt something cold and weirdly damp against your inner thighs, spotting Jungkooks naked torso as he took out another babywipe, cleaning you with gentle movements. The soft smell of the wet tissues made you smile a bit, as Jungkook used one to clean himself up as well before joining you in bed again, pulling the covers over you. "I really mean it you know." He said, and you hummed questioningly. "I know I don't say it very often if at all but.." he looked at your face with fondness, before he pulled you closer again, letting you rest your head on his bare chest. "I really love you." He said silently, and you smiled, kissing his skin as he placed one to your shoulder, his hand running along your spine.

"I really love you too, Jungkookie." You said, before falling asleep, content and happy in his arms.

"I can't wait to see you holding the pink leash of the cute little princess."

"Do you mean the dog or you? Because I wouldn't mind holding eithe- OW, WHY DID YOU HIT ME?!"

[succubusphan]

Taking a Break

Summary: Phil has a broken leg.

Tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, hurt/comfort.

Rating: PG

Word count: 669

A/n: This fic was written for the Valentine's Day Im-PROMPT-u hosted by the @phandomreversebang. The prompts I used were "Break" and "Forever home." Please like, kudo, reblog and all that good stuff if you enjoyed it!

Read on ao3

Phil pouted as a cramp coursed through his incredibly itchy leg. He felt overwhelmed by… well - everything. The blanket texture, the inability to walk around or move much, how complicated showers were now and, above all, the fucking itch. Given the choice, he would probably bite his own leg off if it meant some relief from the itch.

He grabbed a sharpie from the nightstand and tried his best to shove it into his cast in a futile effort to scratch his leg but Dan walked in on him.

“Phil! I told you to stop that!” Dan pushed the door of their new bedroom with his foot and walked in with a tray with coffee and biscuits.

“I just can’t stand it!” Maybe he was being a bit over dramatic but he could feel his eyes welling up with tears.

“Hey,” Dan said. “I know, I know, but you are going to hurt yourself, ok?”

“Help?” Phil hated how small he sounded.

“Alright, let me do some googling and I’ll come back to help you. In the meantime, drink you coffee.” Dan dropped a noisy kiss to his pout.

“Thank you,” Phil said, attempting a smile.

Dan pressed another kiss to his lips. The random kisses were the only good side of being injured or sick. Dan always did it subconsciously.

Phil groaned and threw himself back on the bed. Of course he fell down the fucking stairs during the move. It was so like him to do something like that. At least they had designed the steps to be rounded to flow better with the rest of the concept. If Dan would’ve gotten his way, Phil would have broken even more bones, and he was in enough pain as it was.

He grabbed one of the biscuits and shoved it into his mouth, moaning at how good it was. The perfect amounts of butter and sugar, but still, he wasn’t happy. He scratched around the edge of the cast and it was somehow both better and worse.

“Aw, are you sad about your itchy leg?”

Phil nodded even though he knew Dan was partially mocking him.

“Google says that if we blow cool air between the cast and the leg, it should work.”

“With my luck, I would end up with a burnt leg.”

“I would be the one controlling the hair dryer,” Dan said, rolling his eyes. “First the glue, now this…”

Phil wrapped his arms around Dan. “I know, I can be a lot.”

“Yes, you can, but I think I can be more on most days, so it’s ok.” Dan buried his nose in Phil’s hair and smelled his shampoo.

“Are you saying we are that annoying couple?”

“Hmm, Definitely.”

Phil was not going to dignify that with an answer. “What are the other options?”

“Massage the area around the cast to improve circulation.”

He shook his head. “I’ve scratched it and it kind of hurts.”

Dan’s eyes softened. He climbed onto the bed and leaned down to press a kiss to his injured leg. “I’ll make you all better.”

“I’m not in the mood for that,” Phil said.

“I meant with the massage.” He grabbed Phil’s leg and propped it on one of the 20 cushions on their bed. Yes, it was too over the top but they had a chest to hide them from any visitors so where was the harm?” Dan finally put those huge hands to work and massaged his pale skin, giving him a sort of weird mix between please and pain; slowly working his way around the cast.

Phil groaned. At first it seemed like it hadn’t worked at all but the itch started to subside as blood returned to the area. “There, there.”

Dan snickered.

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” Dan said.

He grabbed Dan’s hoodie and dragged him to lay beside him, kissing him deeply. Alright, maybe he was in the mood, or maybe he was needy, but in any case, Dan was not complaining.

[morelike-bi-light]

unplanned unexpected unwarranted vampire charlie au

au where bella decides she cant leave her dad behind like her mom did and convinces edward and carlisle to protect him too. carlisle ushers him out of the house and explains things to him, providing proof as needed - as much as he can. they go to arizona to hide out, charlie stumbling over his words to convince renee that he and bella were threatened and are in enough danger to need to hide out in a different state.

bella still gets the phone call, and renee doesn't answer when either of them call. when the others are distracted, she still gets away to meet james, but when the cullens go to save her, charlie's waiting outside with esme and rosalie (who are guarding him on the road instead). victoria is there too - and she gives them more trouble than they anticipated. emmett and jasper are distracted by the redhead and the noises from inside the studio getting louder and more concerning by the second.

when a scream rings out — he's never heard bella sound like this, not even when she was a mousy little girl buried under his seahawks baseball cap far too big for her head — charlie can't help but wrench open the door and run inside. his baby is cowering away from a bloodthirsty monster and there's not even a pause in his step as he sprints over to shield her form with his own, squeezing her against his chest and praying for the first time since he heard she wanted to come up to forks for the rest of school

his prayer's interrupted by a loud shattering sound and a malicious laugh. "aw, look at that! daddy's trying to save you. what a noble, pointless sacrifice!" a smack like stone hitting stone. "well far be it from me to deny a man his dying wish."

he doesn't hear what he says next - he doesn't hear anything, or see anything, because everything is white and sharp and pain, burning like a star, blooming in the crevice where his shoulder meets his collarbone. nothing exists right then but the cold fire in his skin, burrowing in his bone. it feels like hours before anything changes. the first thing to slip through is wet on his cheek and cool hands scrabbling to clutch at his.

"dad! dad!" bella? "edward! carlisle! anybody, any of you, please, I need help! my dad — needs help!" a hand on his cheek, trembling and frantic. "dad just hang in there! somebody help us!"

his fingers twitch, stretching towards her. "bella —you okay — bells — "

"im okay! im okay, im so sorry, dad, im so sorry! im sorry, it shouldnt have been you — this is all my fault — edward! edward please, you have to help him!"

hers is still the only voice he can discern but there are more emerging, blending together but getting closer. he catches snatches of words like 'bit', and 'spread', and 'minutes', and 'sorry', and 'safety'. a pale shape stands at the edge of his vision, and at once he's lifted from the floor. he convulses, eliciting another audible choke from his sweet daughter, and he recognizes a familiar, soothing voice from above.

"we can't stay here..."

"what? what do you mean?"

"we'll bring him back with us..."

"what are you going to do?"

"let him take him, bella, please"

"we'll watch over him, i promise."

"Im not leaving him, i can't just let him go!"

"i promise," softer. "jasper — will he sleep?"

the world softens and fully crumbles away. there's nothing left. nothing but fire.

time doesn't exist here, but then the fire, it doesn't go out. yet it stops hurting. it stops eating. it starts feeding. a single thought pops into his head that will make no sense to him when he recalls it later — a weary 'oh. i see.'

three days after the ballet studio, he wakes up to a brown popcorn ceiling. he blinks. he can see every crack and cranny in the plaster.

"mr. swan?" a tinkling voice says, and he sits up. "good, I thought you'd be up." the little black haired cullen girl beams up at him, chipper but sorry. her hand is curled around his wrist. "bella will be back any moment, and carlisle soon after. they're just across the hall, actually. he says we'll need to look after you for a while, just in case, —"

she pauses, just soon enough to avoid being interrupted by the sound of beeping and pressing keys and the door swinging open. bella is whole and wonderful — he can see every inch of her and she's really actually fine, not even a scratch — and she freezes seeing him but then she's flinging herself forward, pale face contorting

"dad—!"

"b-bells," he stands up, quickly, too quickly, to meet her, tugging alice along with him, but edward catches his girlfriend's hand and holds her back as he voices her objections to her entering at all. charlie scowls at first, when a scent reaches his nose — a smell that might've made his stomach growl if it could. his eyes cast up in open question.

edward is stiff, eyes looking conflicted but legs poised to pounce. "it's her."

"oh." charlie shifts uncomfortably on his feet, properly spooked, willing the despairing thirst away. as moments pass since making the connection, the scent of blood — of food — fades, to the point he can hardly detect it at all. it's a sharp relief.

"you — how do you feel," bella forces out, eyes locked with his with an uncomfortable intensity that makes him squirm and anxiously rake a hand through his hair. carlisle and the others filter in behind her and he's grateful for something else to look at, now he knows she's safe.

"better," he settles on. "than before, I mean. was that — did —" he waits for someone to interrupt him and fill him in, but it's quiet. "are you okay?"

a bark of laughter bursts from her chest and she assures him she's fine, eyes wide and brows furrowed like she can't believe he's a real person, the way she gets sometimes when he says something so awkward and sincere it makes her want to groan. but she doesn't want to groan anymore. instead she's torn between crying and singing.

"what do you remember?" carlisle asks, gently stepping forward, his gaze a mix of clinical fascination, wary confusion, and personal concern. charlie would flush beneath it... but the heat never comes to his cheeks.

"exactly how much are you looking for," he grumbles. "last thing i recall..." no need to go into the pain. "finding bella with that... guy at the studio."

"just finding her?"

"trying to protect her," he amends, focused on avoiding everyone's gaze. "and... it was..." then he notices how much there is to see, even when hes trying not to look at anything. he frowns. absorbing this much — it feels like a headache, minus the pain itself. overload. "it was him wasnt it. he bit me"

esme and jasper nod, but carlisle and bella just look away, the brunette visibly cringing. edward's jaw tightens, and for some inexplicable reason, the sight of that is what makes it all click for him.

"so," he fumbles for a second, but the word comes out so clean and sure when he says it, not at all like he feels. his mouth is physically incapable of tripping over itself like hes used to, no stammer, no stumbling. he grimaces and all the muscles pull exactly like he intends them too. he shakes his head. "he bit me. and? can i assume that's what's got me feeling so weird? the... some sort of effect of the bite?"

bella doesnt answer. neither does carlisle. surprisingly, it's that blonde girl that replies, though not to him.

"show him," she says, and after a moment, esme creeps forward, gesturing for his hand. he hesitates, but takes it. edward shifts to place bella behind him, as if she needs to be protected from him the way charlie protected her from james, a move that breaks his heart. gently, esme maneuvers him over to the bathroom. she turns on the lights, though she didn't really need to. he blinks. red. in the middle of a face with skin more suited to a shelf at a morgue than the tasteful backsplash of the bathroom, framed with dark, curling, concerningly long lashes, his irises were red. that wasn't it, either.

"am i..." he huffed. "am i seeing things, or am i way better looking than usual?"

a ripple of good humor disturbs the room, from esme's warm giggle, to a watery chuckle from bella, to a great, booming crow from emmett.

"way to focus on what's important, chief," alice nods, at the man's back in an instant. she doesn't sound nearly as sarcastic as those words should warrant. "finally, a man after my own heart."

"wait till you try running for the first time," emmett interjects, joining her behind him. "mind, blown."

some of the other family members sigh and shake their heads. charlie runs his eyes along his sharper jaw, still sprinkled with the stubble he'd acquired in the preceding chaos, now even and almost roguish where before hes pretty sure it made him look old and unkempt. he looks younger, he thinks, not young exactly, but good. better than his age.

he pulls away from his reflection, eyes flickering from face to face around him. he might even have said that he fit in with the mythically beautiful family. hes struck by how silly he was to dismiss the strangeness of the gorgeous, antisocial group out of hand, now that he sees how strange he's become himself, before his eyes fall to his daughter.

"im sorry dad" she mumbles, humor evaporating, and a pain resounds like a crack in his chest.

slowly, carefully, he moves forward, and the rest of the vampires stand on high alert as they realize what he's about to do. bella's eyes are bloodshot and he presses his lips together in a bittersweet line as he wraps her in his arms and tucks her close, just under his chin. a shudder runs down his spine as a phantom pain ghosts over his shoulder, but he brushes it aside and it evaporates like water. when he breathes in, she smells the way she always has, and he is not hungry.

"it's okay, kiddo. we'll get through this. im just glad you're okay."

and they do. charlie's vampiric powers are related to shielding, like his daughter, but his are more like putting things on mute, if that makes sense. small things, obviously, and usually physical. he's got a great deal more resistance to thirst than most newborns, for example, because it's muted by his powers, particularly for those he cares about. unfortunately this makes it likelier for him to, uh, die of thirst, as it's possible for him to forget to feed. and he can't block edward from hearing his thoughts completely, but they're muffled naturally by his powers (and always will be. hes not helping anyone into his head any time soon, especially not his daughter's boyfriend). he can also mute his own scent to the shapeshifters — which means he and billy, after things are all sorted, will still be able to hang out and be best friends!! he can also mute his own footsteps,

anyways this started as a meme post intending to go into how comedic it would be if charlie got changed and bella spent the rest of the series complaining that edward wanted to spend the rest of eternity with her father but not with her but then i got struck with some mad charlie feels and this happened so anyways vampire!charlie everyone @charlieswanismyrealdad @effervescent-emmett @cullen-trash @emmettmccartycullen @jaspell @leahclearwaterdefensesquad is this anything

[marsbutterfly]

Hey ! Can I request something ? It's an Hanji x reader imagine. This would take place after the chapter 132, you saved Hanji in extremis, brings her back safe and sound on the plane, the alliance wins the war against Eren and right after that they all come back to the Paradis Island. Hanji and her wife are lying on a field and reader think about all the events. They're finaly free, happy and living together 😌! I really like your writtings and especially the way you depicted Hanji ! Stay safe !

Note: Hell Yes. I actually wrote two versions for this story but this is the one I liked best, so I really hope you like it. It hurt me greatly to write this, but I poured my heart and soul into it.

WARNING: MANGA SPOILER!

Daydream

Summary: In which you save Hanji before she has the chance to go ahead with her suicidal charge.

AO3 Version! | Wattpad Version!

As Jean drags your body into the aircraft, you feel your throat burning from all the screaming. The pain in your lungs is unbearable but not enough to stop you.

For a split second, he loses his grip on your body and you are able to escape.

Using your gear, you find yourself taking down a colossal titan standing next to Hanji.

“Y/N??” She looks at you, fear in her eyes. Rage takes over your body as you slice the nape of yet another titan.

“How DARE you leave me!” You say before grabbing Hanji’s cloak. As you tighten your grip, the hook of your gear hits the aircraft just barely taking flight.

As she tries to struggle, you throw her body into the moving vehicle as you follow closely behind.

All eyes on you as you lay on your back, trying your best to catch your breath.

“Hanji! Y/N!” You hear Pieck’s voice echoing through the ship as you silently sit up on your elbows. Once you can get your lung movements under control you look over at Hanji, who’s sitting against the wall.

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?” You yell at her. Rage and sorrow clouding your mind, all you can do is let your feelings out in the most aggressive way you can possibly think of.

From her hands to her face, you notice burns and scratches covering her skin. Hanji doesn’t move. All she can do is stare at the ceiling quietly, warm tears running down her face.

Armin extends his hand, helping you get back on your feet. No one says a word as you make your way towards Hanji.

You kneel by her side, watching as she covers her eyes with her arm. 

“I just wanted to protect everyone.” She whispers, hiccups erupting from her body.

You gently place your hand on her arm, slowly moving it out of the way so she can look at you. “And leave me behind?”

“Leave you alive.” Hanji finally looks in your eyes, you see the amount of pain she’s in.

“I would rather die with you…” You say, moving her glasses so you can treat her injuries. “Then to live without you.”

As Reiner hands you a small bowl of water, you take out a small piece of cloth that rests in your pocket to clean her burns, making sure no debris is left on her open wounds.

Hanji’s face writhes onto a pained expression. She bites down her lower lip and allows a few pain filled tears. As soon as you’re done, you wrap her wounds in the best way you can and finally, you decide to break the silence.

“I don’t care if you are the Commander or a cadet” You make sure she’s looking into your eyes before finishing your sentence, an unusually serious expression takes over your features,  “Don’t you dare try to leave me again.”

“I won’t go anywhere, I promise.” She tries to smile at you, but among the tears, a smile simply won’t appear on her lips. Instead, she flashes you a pained smirk as her bottom lip quivers.

Slowly, you start brushing your lips against hers, wanting nothing more but to feel her breath against your mouth. She pulls you close, destroying any space existing between you. Her breathing against your lips is all you wished for.

“Oi, can you two focus?.” Levi says, destroying the sweet moment between you two. Without turning your head, you flip him off. 

“Let’s come up with a plan.” You say, flashing Hanji a sad smile..

.

“We’re out of fuel” Onyonkapon screams, “I’ll crash land this plane, but please make sure you win this war!!”

The cold wind hits your face as you stand above Eren’s massive body. You hear Armin screaming his name and the others follow close behind.

Pieck and Reiner jump a few seconds after the others, giving them enough time and space to transform.

You feel your hands shaking slightly, fear going through your veins as you take a deep breath. Before you can jump, you feel Hanji’s hand wrapping around yours.

“Together?” She says, a serious but soothing expression on her face.

“Together.” You reply. You both nod and jump off the plane, praying the pilot would be ok.

As you land on top of one of the ribs, you notice the Beast Titan has appeared out of nowhere, but something was off about it.

Not only was it connected to Eren but Its fur was white, looking almost exactly as the War Hammer titan. 

You look at Hanji for a moment and you see the excitement in her face as she watches Reiner’s fight. Shaking your head, you pull her closer to the now decomposing corpse of the Beast Titan.

“No wonder he’s not putting up a fight.” Levi says, grinding his teeth, his body filled with rage.

“But how is this possible?” Hanji asks while looking at you seconds before dozens of other titans appeared. Empty eyes stare at you while they prepare to attack.

As you look around, trying to figure out where all the titans came from, you can see a small girl from the corner of your eye as she stands on Eren’s massive body, not too far away from you.

“The Founder.” You whisper as goosebumps travel through your body. Your eyes widen when a weird-looking titan comes at you, ready to swap you away.

In a second, Armin takes your place. As he pushes you, the hook of your gear gets stuck to another titan.

“ARMIN!” You scream before slicing the monster in front of you, trying to catch up to the blonde boy but your effort is useless.

“Y/N, are you all right?” Hanji asks before placing her hands around your hips. You nod but even though your legs shake slightly but you know you can’t afford to stop fighting.

“Everyone calm down!” Levi says, you can barely hear his voice with all the noises around you. “We are in no condition to make a charge here.” 

“Captain Levi.” Pieck says, her titan clinging onto one of Eren’s bones. “These enemies… they are the nine titans of times past.”

Before you can have a reaction, you feel a large hand squeezing the air out of your entire body until your vision turns black.

.

By the time you wake up, you can’t hear or feel the massive titans flattening everything in their path. Deafening screams no longer fill the air around you.

You watch the blue sky above you as you sit up. On your left lies a very injured Captain Levi. Part of his leg was bitten off and his hand bandages are covered in dried blood.

You crawl to him, gently touching his chest. You place two fingers against his jugular and feel his heart beating approximately 50 times a minute. A bit too slow, but at least he is still alive.

A figure comes towards you from your right. You shift your face, trying to see the person’s face against the sun. Her body comes crashing against yours in a tight hug. As the smell of her hair hits your nose, you wrap your arms around her neck.

“I’m so glad you are alright!” Hanji says, a few tears streaming down her face as she touches her forehead to yours.

“What happened?” You ask quietly. In the distance, you can hear Mikasa’s screams, quickly followed by Armin’s sobs. You feel every hair in your body quickly stand up as you start to realize what has happened.

“We found Eren.” Is all she needs to say. A sad expression takes over your features. Deep down, you wished for him to change his mind and find a way back to his old self, but it was nothing more than that, just a wish.

Your eyes scan the scene folding in front of you. Annie has her arms wrapped around Mikasa’s torso, tightly hugging her as the black-haired girl screams the contents of her heart out.

Jean and Reiner tend to Connie’s wounds. A pool of blood forming underneath his head as the other two boys desperately try to stop it. 

Armin simply stares at the sea, his hands covering his ears as sobs abruptly leave his body. 

Pieck hugs the two kids tightly, making sure they won’t be able to leave her grasp anytime soon. Gabi holds Falco’s hand as both of their small bodies shake in a mix of relief and trauma. 

 And lastly, your eyes wander towards the lifeless figure lying on the sand. The water hits his foot ever so lightly but enough to cause it to move. The sand trapped in his hair shines in contrast with the sun.

“What happened?” You finally work up the courage to ask. Hanji lets out a sigh, her hand moving from your skin towards her hair, placing a single loose strand behind her own ear.

“After you passed out, Annie flew in to save our asses.” She giggles, looking down before lacing your right hands on hers. “His jaw titan could fly! Can you believe that?”

A spark appears in her eyes amongst all the sadness around you. You flash her a small smirk, “I didn’t even know that was possible!”

“I didn’t either! Isn’t it amazing, though?” She raises her voice before bringing it to a low volume once again. Her features return to seriousness as she continues, “After that, Pieck destroyed the Attack Titan’s neck, forcing Eren’s body out of there.”

As Hanji speaks, you finally notice the smell of blood and smoke surrounding you. Taking your left hand to your heart, you clutch your own shirts, fighting back tears that threaten to fall against your wishes.

“How did he die?” You whisper, looking down at your legs.

“His body never recovered after Gabi shot him.” She takes a small break, trying to find the right words. “The explosion inflicted by Pieck was enough to expel his body..”

Your lips part but no words come out so she simply continues, “He was able to heal enough so he would have parts of his body back before Armin stabbed his heart.”

“The Founder?” You interrupt, suddenly remembering the small girl that watched the whole fight from afar.

“She’s gone. Somehow Eren was able to lock the Founding powers within him before dying.”

Confused, you look at her, hoping she would have any answers for you.  “But…”

“We don’t understand how yet…” her voice breaks, a mixture of pain and happiness, “but all the titans are gone.”

A gasp escapes your body. Thoughts rush through your head at light’s speed but all you can do is shove your head on the crook of her neck as you cry.

Clinging onto Hanji’s now soaked shirt, you try to breathe but air simply won’t enter your lungs. Was it pain for the loss of someone you cared about and loved deeply? Was it relief for how the monsters that have threatened you through your entire life have now disappeared? 

You look up at Hanji, her hair floating in the wind as her hand rubs your back in a soothing manner. You place your left hand on the back of her neck and pull her in for a kiss. Tears drip from your eyes onto your lips but you can’t find the strength to pull away.

As her lips leave yours, a quiet whine escapes your throat.

Once again, you focus your attention on Eren’s body. “What happens now?”

.

Sitting in a blanket, you watch as the breeze moves the newly bloomed flowers around. The sun setting behind the mountains casts an orange light above you.

From behind, you hear footsteps making their way towards you. Your lips curl into a smirk and you shift your body, putting all of your weight on your knees.

“You look beautiful.” She says before sitting beside you. You quickly change your focus to her face, taking a few seconds to admire her.

Hanji’s hair is in a messy ponytail, a few strands rest against her cheeks. She’s wearing her daily glasses instead of her old combat ones, and her skin smells like freshly used soap, meaning she finally showered. Whether it was willingly or if Levi forced her to, you don’t dare to ask.

As you adjust your dress, a blush takes over your cheeks and you can help but smile at her.

Wrapping your arm around her neck, you place a quick yet gently kiss on her lips before resting your forehead against hers.

“It’s been a year.” You whisper, your voice barely audible against the wind.

She nods, “A year of freedom.”

As you look up at the sky, you notice a few stars have begun to show up. One in particular catches your eye for it has a greater shine than the rest. Hanji quietly follows your gaze.

“They are watching over us.” She says, taking your hand towards her lips and planting a love-filled kiss on the back.

“I hope they are happy we can finally be free.” You finally find the courage to speak. “Truly, utterly, completely free.”

In a second, you let Hanji go and allow your body to fall, colliding with the grass. The green speckles tickling your skin as the aroma of the flowers hits your nose.

A sneeze escapes your body suddenly and all you can do is laugh, for you are now truly happy.

You feel Hanji’s head on your shoulder and you quickly wrap your arm around her head, quietly playing with her brown locks.

“Thank you for coming after me.” She says. You can feel her eyes piercing you, carefully watching for your reaction. The corner of your lips gently curls into a smile as you roll your eyes at her.

“I will always follow you.” You whisper, making sure no one else will be able to hear you but her, “Even if it gets me killed.”

You simply lay there, watching as the sun goes down behind the mountain. No words are needed but you can feel how calm she is with you.

Looking back on it, you realize your decision to chase after her once she got off the plane was reckless and dangerous to say the least, but if it meant spending your life with Hanji, you would do it again and again.

Your body shivers abruptly, a reminder that the cold breeze is once again taking over the atmosphere. With a smile of her own, she lifts her head up, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Are you ready to head back?” She says, steam coming out of her mouth as the words fall from her lips.

Simply you nod, watching as a giggle leaves her body. Before standing up, you pick a small, pink flower that rests by your hand and place it on her hair. 

Planting a kiss on her cheek, you take her hand, starting to make your way towards the city.

Your comrades' sacrifices weren’t in vain. Freedom was finally a reality rather than just a dream.

With Hanji by your side, you can finally appreciate being alive and for now, that’s all you could ask for.

[lustbile-archive]

Dog Will Hunt

JohnnyxReader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary/Warnings: Watching slashers with your boyfriend never goes as planned. Nothing crazy just some oral, but spoilers for Texas Chainsaw Masacre I guess? and vaguely described gore.

(also the title is a quote from the second movie, but they watch the first one. I know this don’t @ me)

You flinch at the wet cracking sound of Leatherface hitting the boy with a hammer, your body tensing under Johnny’s as he lays on top of you as you both watch as he inhumanly twitches before the murderer drags the lifeless body away.

You had begged Johnny for days to stay in one night and have a slasher movie night with you, and once you were pouting and telling him you could get pizza from his favorite restaurant down the street, he had easily agreed.

So this is where you found yourself now, you lying on your back in your living room floor on top of piles of blankets and pillows, Johnny sleepily lying on top of you with his head resting on your rib cage, a pizza box that, instead of holding the pizza, had now become home to your growing collection of empty candy wrappers, a few wine coolers by your sides, and the flashing images of teenagers being slowly picked off by a giant murderer wearing a human skin mask dancing on the tv in front of you.

Johnny shifts on top of you as you tense, your heartbeat speeding up slightly as you now watch the pretty girl walk slowly up to the house, the low shot and the way she calls out for her now dead boyfriend instilling you with the anxious knowledge of what her demise would be.

“Nooo don’t go in there,” you murmur to yourself without thinking, Johnny quietly laughing into the skin of your stomach that he rests his face on from him shoving your shirt up below your chest before he would lay down. He’d always had a thing with skin on skin contact when you two cuddled, but that didn’t stop your teasing when you pointed out him wanting to press his face against your bare skin may be a little weird considering the things the murderer in the movie you were about to watch liked to do with skin.

You’re so distracted and nervous from watching the girl trip throughout the house, kicking at discarded bones in fear and disgust, you don’t notice what Johnny is up to at first. You don’t register his lips pressing against the skin below your ribs, and you only assume his shifting down is him trying to get more comfortable.

It’s when you feel his tongue that you’re ripped away from watching Leatherface start to chase the girl. You try to keep your attention on the screen as he lays warm open mouthed kisses down your stomach, his hands trailing your side as he moves slowly down your body. You groan out in what you hope reads as disappointment to the eager boy that rests between your legs, but you know better than anyone that once he’s got himself on a mission it’s almost impossible to pull him out of it.

“This is one of the most iconic horror scenes ever you know?” you ask rhetorically as you weakly swat at the retreating top of his head, only getting a muffled laugh and lowering kisses in response. There’s a wash of shame that fills your chest when you can feel yourself getting wet at the feeling of his touch while such a gorey movie plays, but you can only grumble in response, “is this really what gets you going John? Teenagers getting murdered?”

You turn your head to see at that moment is when the girl is caught by Leatherface, her legs kicking and thrashing in the air for only a moment before he’s shoving her onto one of the meat hooks as she screams in pain.

“Yeah all that screaming and stuff reminds me of how you get,” he taunts as he sits up long enough to start tugging at your pajama shorts, the way you lift your hips to aid in the fabric being pulled down is enough to tell him you want this more than you’re letting on, “and the chainsaw noise kinda reminds me of the vibrator you like so much.”

“I’m gonna go Leatherface on your ass I swear to god,” you kick at his stomach as he laughs, not hard enough to hurt him but enough to please him with your dramatics. He’s also a big fan of how your squirming gives him a better opportunity to catch the bends of your knees in his hands and spread you open for his greedy eyes.

“You can kill me and have my skin after I make you come Ed Gein,” he digs one last time before he lays back onto his stomach, an evil grin filling his face as you scoff.

“Gross don’t call me that,” you protest, your physical response contradicting your words and attitude as you relax back into the blankets beneath you. He may be a weirdo at times, especially when he decides to refer to you by the name of an actual murderer, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s skilled with his tongue and you’d be a fool to deny yourself from experiencing it.

You hear him repeat your words quietly in a mocking tone, but before you can retort, his mouth is on you. His hands still hold onto your legs, shoving them up and to the side, almost enough to strain the muscle, and he shows no hesitation when he lays his tongue flat against you, dragging it slowly from the bottom of your opening and up until the top of his tongue is digging into your clit.

You feel yourself clench around nothing at the feeling, the muscles in your shoulders and back melting further into the fabric as he repeats the motion again. The pleasure and the way you drip on his tongue is almost enough to drown out the sounds of Pam screaming while her boyfriend is chopped to pieces.

“You’re a freak,” you groan as he sucks on your skin. He groans against you in response to words and the way your hands move to weave your fingers into his hair. He picks up lapping against you again when your nails scrape at his scalp, and you feel your eyes rolling at the feeling.

He loses himself easily when he goes down on you, this time, even with the creaking sounds of the film surrounding you, is no different. You feel him relax against you and his hands let go of your legs as he sucks your clit between his full lips. With them free, your legs fall to rest against his back and his hands trail up your torso until they’re pushing under your shirt and grasping at your bare chest.

Your hips rock up into his face all but using his tongue as a sex toy he drools onto your skin. His nails scratch at the sensitive skin of your chest before he starts tugging at your nipples making you whine and pant.

In your squirming, your head falls to the side and you’re greeted with the sight of him gently rocking his hips into the blankets below him. Seeing him so lost in pleasing you that he’s started to seek his own pleasure has you reeling, and you both let out matching moans when his simultaneously hits a certain spot both on you and himself.

“Make me come Johnny,” you say sweetly, your bubbly tone coated in arousal sends shocks of electricity directly to where he grinds against the floor. His tongue gets more eager at your simple request, and his hands leave your chest to lock tightly against your legs, pushing you tightly against his unrelenting mouth.

You can feel your body shifting up, desperately trying to escape the pleasure that bleeds from his mouth. He only moves with you, using the shifting to help pleasure himself. He only lays a few more licks against your sensitive clit before you feel your skin warm and you’re teetering on the edge.

He lets out an animalistic groan against you, pushing you over. You feel your stomach tighten and your eyes roll back hard enough for them to ache, and you’re coming harshly on his tongue. Your mouth hangs open letting you quiet moans slip out and your back arches off the floor.

He licks you through your orgasm, his own rocking through him as he thrusts roughly against the floor, the taste of you combined with the way your fingers tug at his hair being his own personal demise. You two lay there jerking and moaning against the other, while the movie continues to blare in front of you. His tongue becomes more desperate as he comes and it feels like every movement he lays on you sends shocks of pleasure up your spine.

He finally lets go, after turning your brain to liquid with aftershocks, and as he sits up you see the way the evidence of your orgasm coats his mouth and chin and the heavy rise and fall of his chest as he tries to catch his breath.

There’s a moment where you stare at each other dumbly, trying to pull yourselves back to reality and out of the torturous bubble of pleasure you had been trapped in moments ago.

He recovers quicker than you, flopping ungraciously down onto your still shiver form to press his mouth harshly against yours. The taste of you is so prominent on his tongue you can’t help but groan at the taste.

Your hands fly up to the side of his face, holding him against you as you lick into each other's mouths, and you can feel the grins forming on your lips as you kiss.

He breaks away, only for a moment, his eyes squinting and staring into yours before he speaks, “you might want to restart the movie.”