this is one of my favourite panels because of the fact that makima desperately longs for equality, and had she had turned to look over at denji even just once, she would’ve seen someone was there with her sharing those same emotions. but she didn’t, because she never valued denji and she never saw him as her equal.
Hear me out you guys 👀👀👀 fem barem x Makima.. think about the toxic yuri.. LIKE co dependency toxic yuri and fem barem having internalized homophobia 👀👀
Whenever Makima cups your face or looks at you "longingly", the first thing she notices is her reflection in your eyes. It's hard to pick a part your facial features when her reflection is the first thing that draws her attention. Even if you're her sweetheart, she has a hard time recognizing your face. The sound of your voice and your scent helps clue her in to your identity: her most tolerable dog human! Loves being welcomed by you when she gets home. Makima will even go the extra mile in spritzing her perfume on your clothes to make you stand out more. The only downside to this is that a certain someone will also take interest in you when he smells the late Makima's perfume notes on your clothes.
From the hands of one kidnapper to the next, I suppose.
◇ Outwardly, she's very considerate. She'll hold doors, help you put on your coat, carry your bags, and do it all with an unnerving look in her eye
◇ Often refers to you as "[Name], dear." When addressing you
◇ Fixes your stray hairs or crooked lapels with precision, and has little tolerance for any part of your appearance being out of sort
◇ Always wears pajamas to bed, but would be very plain that she doesn't mind you sleeping in less. Sometimes she suggests it, on especially warm and humid nights
◇ Listens to older music- Ella Fitzgerald, Frank Sinatra, Etta James, to name a few
◇ She won't tell you to eat healthier foods, she technically won't make you, either. But out at dinner she'll lift a forkful of the vegetables she thinks you're neglecting, 'suggesting' you try them. She relishes the awkward, flustered look on your face as you take a bite of asparagus or broccoli, and another, until you eventually scarf yours down just to keep the scene from continuing
◇ The same goes for your sleeping habits, which she modifies under the same guise of loving care. By 10 p.m. you're herded to the bedroom, electronics powered off and put away. She drapes an arm over your waist to encourage you to stay
◇ When you do go along with her ideals for your diet, routine, and sleep schedule, her praises echo the same tone you hear her use with her pups
◇ Everything is always tidy with her. If you toss your clothes away at night in a fit of passion, you awake to them being laundered and folded neatly
◇ She has a very unique brand of comfort to offer you, if you're unwell or feeling down. It's usually anchored in logic or reason- "Why should you stay so upset when this will pass so soon?"
◇ If you were truly ill she'd be borderline clinical. Ensuring you take cold medicine and fever reducer in shifts, insisting you blow your nose into tissues to breathe easier, and supplying you with plain rice and broth for the duration of your sickness
◇ She displays a sense of pride for your achievements, praising them often in group settings- "[Name] handled three devils this week alone, I found that quite impressive."
◇ You always feel something is off, in quiet moments alone. In the bath if she's busy with something, on the train for an assignment, but the thought goes fuzzy when you see her
Your Boss is always messing with you. This time she might have gone a little too far.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Dubious consent/noncon, power imbalance, slight mommy kink, dacryphilia (yes i know), objectification, yandere Makima, Makima using her powers so kinda drugged sex?, fingering, Reader has internalized homophobia, Reader is either bi or lesbian (up to reader whether its comphet), Schrodinger's Aki victimization (aka its up to you if he's suffering or not), begging, top Makima.
I trust Makima stans to read warnings. Bonk me for spelling.
Getting a cup of coffee in this city is like dodging knives on fire as a circus freak. The only difference between you and the circus freak being that they were getting paid for their nonsense and you were actually losing money with the coffee.
Either way you’re slipping between people, your hair wild as you run through the city with the cool wind of Tokyo slapping you in the face. Of course some stupid vending machine devil spawned in the city. And yes, it was a literal vending machine. Stupid fear to some, but apparently deadly enough to kill more people than sharks.
It wouldn’t be a concern if it wasn’t so large, the snacks dispensed could upend the earth, and a large chocolate bar crashes into a building, sending debris crashing down and you narrowly turn a corner to avoid being smushed before righting your coffee. People are screaming, which is natural, but a small spiteful part of you wishes they’d at least get out of your way.
“Fucking hell.” You whisper under your breath.
There go your plans of looking cute. What was originally a work appropriate but nice looking outfit of a bow in your hair and a shorter pencil shirt with tights is now a dusty ripped mess. The bow dangles off your hair and you lose it completely as you dash off, dropping the rest of the coffee but managing to grab onto two cups.
Swearing again when it hits the ground, you grit your teeth as hot coffee splashes onto your ripped tights and stains the concrete before you, making you nearly slip on the mess in your dress shoes. You must look like a circus freak too at this point, but you can’t really do too much about it but keep running, if only to pause to swerve between people and finally make it towards the familiar less crowded path to the devil hunters HQ.
No casualties so far from what you’ve seen thankfully, just structural damages and a few injuries, and you pray that of the devil hunters that you spotted in the distance Aki is one of them. Because you’d rather die than have him see you in the office looking like this.
So of course, when the elevator door opens with a soft ding, Aki is there, standing in front of you, looking clean and crisp in his suit, with his topknot done and his soft eyes mildly confused as they take in your disheveled form.
“Vending machine.” You explain as you shove his order into his hands without too much of an explanation. His order, black with no sugar, is easy enough to remember but you still repeated it in your head to the point that you forgot nearly everyone else's.
“I… see.” He says, deciding just to accept the coffee and the state of your flushed cheeks when his hands brush against yours.
Unfortunately, you have no choice but to step into the elevator with him, and you try not to look at him, fixing your gaze on the floor panel as you push the one for the top floor. You hope he doesn’t talk to you and you squirm slightly as the impossibly rickety metal box groans with movement.
“...you doing okay?” He asks, and you close your eyes for a moment so you don’t start crying from embarrassment. You know you look like shit and it makes all your confidence from earlier in the morning shrivel up and die.
“Yeah.” You say, and your voice goes up in pitch. Pressing your lips together for a moment and willing yourself to not act like an idiot you try again. “Just… devils and all. This city is a zoo.”
The last part lands a bit bitterly and you hope it doesn’t interfere with the nice persona you’ve been trying to keep up around him, but to your surprise he just lets out a huff of amusement.
“A zoo is pretty accurate.” He agrees before gesturing to the cup. “What’d you get?”
“Oh– no.” You say with a shake of your head. It would have been smarter if you had grabbed your own cup, you'd be happier at least, but your instincts were more worried about getting fired. “This isn’t mine, it's Makima-san’s.”
“Ah,” He says, and you feel a twinge of annoyance when you see the subtle admiration in his eyes as he hears the name. Of course, everyone likes your boss, even you, but sometimes you wish Aki would just get his head out of his ass and pay attention.
“And what did she get?” He asks as the elevator dings and creaks open, and you’re mildly annoyed that you know that he’s going to memorize that order the same way you remembered his. Still, you can’t refuse him, you never could, and you part your lips to respond as you both step out into the hallway.
“Black.” A familiar silky smooth voice responds and you and Aki both instinctively jerk to attention.
Makima looks beautiful as always, her hair neatly braided and her golden eyes filled with slight amusement from your reactions. She looks at you up and down, and you feel your cheeks heat up as you feel her gaze like a weight.
“My, you look… distinguished.” She remarks, and you fight the urge to shove your head in your hands, instead handing her her coffee.
She reaches out, brushing her fingers against yours as she takes it and you feel a familiar yet confusing flutter before you awkwardly pull your hand away, trying not to think about the weird spark you felt.
“Vending machine.” You tell her, the same as you told Aki and she smiles.
“Ah, that one? I’ve got the report started, you can help me finish it.” She says lightly and you groan before she turns to Aki. “You don’t mind if I steal her from you, do you Hayakawa?”
Aki shakes his head a bit too eagerly and you feel another angry twinge inside.
“Not at all.” He says, but his eyes flit towards you and your heart skips a beat despite yourself. “Hope your day gets better (Name).”
You can feel your heart leaping in your stomach and you struggle to find the words for a minute before getting out a whispered “you too” (though that definitely isn’t the proper response) before following a mildly amused looking Makima to her office.
“You too?” She asks when Aki is out of ear shot and you scowl at her.
“It’s been a long day.” You say defensively.
“I’m sure. The reports from yesterday are on your desk, a few casualties need to be logged in the Ginza district too.” She says as she takes off her jacket, pulling her arms out of the sleeves.
Not even a good morning. Just teasing and straight to work, though it's always been like this in your time working under Makima. You should be used to it, but you do feel minorly hurt that she didn’t even thank you for the coffee.
“Yes ma’am.” You murmur a little bitterly, but you jolt slightly as she gently wraps you in her jacket, putting the fabric over your shoulders and suddenly very close. You think you could count her eyelashes from this distance.
“Keep this on.” She says in a murmur. “I don’t need anyone getting distracted by you.”
You have no idea what she means for a moment, but she steps away before you can question it too much, and you hesitantly put the jacket on as you rush to follow her to her office. It smells like her, faintly of dog and something musky and surprisingly masculine.
It's cold. Not in the temperature sense, but in the sense that everything in her office looks so painfully sterile. Her desk is bare, the curtains have never been wrinkled or moved and her papers are neatly filed away. Your desk however, is a chaotic mess of papers and desk decor, a few picture frames of family and friends littered about.
Often, you find yourself wishing you were more like Makima and the thought lingers as you sit at your desk and start your work. It’s simple enough, but it churns your stomach slightly when you see the names and numbers, the causes of death. If you were more like Makima this probably wouldn’t phase you.
You try to get into her mindset for a moment, but it doesn’t work when you read the first death report, impalement. Nasty way to go, and you find yourself earnestly sympathizing with the poor person who met their end.
Needless to say, it takes longer than expected to get through those reports and by then you're so emotionally exhausted your mind starts to wander to keep your own sanity as you start doodling on a fresh sheet.
Your eyes dart up for a moment and you take in the way the light hits Makima as she focuses on her work. Her skin is flawless, almost porcelain, and yet she’s not delicate either. She’s strong. Stronger than you’ll ever be and more perfect than you could think to conceive. It sends a weird flutter through you, admiration and envy.
It’s not like you like feeling this way. Jealousy always feels terrible, but you can’t help it when the only person you want to look your way is looking at her. Maybe Himeko feels the same, and that’s why she hates Makima, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same.
It’s impossible to hate her in your eyes, she’s too… well, magnanimous you suppose, but also, she’s different when she lets her guard down. You’ve been around her longer than anyone else, but even then it's still rare. Still, when you catch her doing something earnestly you can’t help but feel fond.
Maybe a little too fond, especially since Makima is just a friend. And a girl just like you… you feel like you should wish it was Aki you were spending time with. But you find that even that sentiment has changed a little, like it crept on before you realized it.
It shouldn’t matter though, Makima is a friend and Aki is firmly out of your reach in your eyes. You don’t think he’d ever look at you with those steel blue eyes in the same way he looks at Makima. But you wish he would just once. Just so you could savor the way he took you in.
“You like him, don’t you?”
Makima’s soothing voice rings out, startling you from your doodling, although her voice itself doesn’t startle you as much as her words.
“...what?” You finally manage to ask, after mouth fishing for a few minutes, trying to figure out what the woman across from you is saying. You have a feeling you know where this is going and it makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat.
She simply smiles at you, her piercing golden eyes suddenly feeling a lot more intrusive than they usually are.
“Aki.” She says, teasingly, as if what she was implying was perfectly clear from the start. “You like him.”
You blank for a second, face heating up as you process her words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You lie, averting your eyes back to your desk, where, inconveniently, the drawing you doodled of said aforementioned man lay.
Makima watches your gaze shift with an amused smirk, laughing lightly when you send her a halfhearted glare in return.
“You don’t need to deny it.” She says, seemingly enjoying watching you squirm in your seat. “...although, watching you act bashful is cute.”
“...you’re incredibly annoying.” You manage to say, cheeks burning. “If I knew you were this annoying I wouldn’t have worked under you.”
And it’s true to a slight extent. When you first met Makima, introduced to her as her secretary, you thought of her as a calm, poised and rather reserved woman. She was kind, if not a little stern, and you thought she wouldn’t be the type to bother you with silly gossip about your personal life.
Clearly, you were wrong, since despite the fact that she could maintain her professional image in front of most, she had no problem dropping that act with you. Be it through subtle touches or teasing words like now, either way she’d send you into a flustered state.
“You wouldn't?" She asks, a small imperceptible smirk on her face.
“No, I wouldn’t.”
“Ah?” She laughs, but the tone is a little sharp in a way that has you stiffening up despite yourself. “That’s a shame, I’ve always found your reactions cute.”
“...” You blink at her owlishly, face starting to flush. “T-that’s…”
“But I digress, let’s go back to the original topic.” She says abruptly, standing up from her desk, the few papers she was no doubt pretending to work on, falling to the floor. “You like him.”
You neither confirm nor deny her words, instead looking at her warily trying to see what exactly she’s getting at, though you already know your face is giving you away.
“...what does this have to do with you?” You eventually ask, a slight sense of discomfort overwhelming you, in the way that it always has. Not exactly overwhelming but enough to keep your skin prickling and humming.
“With me? Nothing really.” She says, giving you a small smile as she walks over to you, her shoes clicking against the polished floor and then muffling against the carpet.. “But I can’t help but feel… concerned.”
You furrow your brow at her words, trying to make sense of what she’s saying, the discomfort within you shifting to something jerky, defensive even. Shifting slightly in your seat, you look up at her, confusion and hesitance intermingling as you do so. “Is there something I should know?” You eventually ask.
“Oh, no.” She laughs slightly at the way you flightily jump at her words. “Nothing you need to be wary of. It’s just that, I can’t help but worry for you (Name).” She says, her tone shifting into something more soothing and familiar.
“Worry… for me?” You repeat, unsure of what you're hearing.
She offers you another smile, this one somewhat pitying as she presses her hands on your desk, looking down at you with those swirling eyes. “Don’t take it personally (Name). But Aki… well, he’s not really a settling down type is he?”
You feel the same uncomfortable knot tighten in your stomach. It’s not like you don’t know what she's getting at. Aki is a lot of things, he’s determined, brave, gentlemanly, kind, selfless, loyal… but you already know that the main priority on his mind has always been revenge. Not that you could blame him, you hardly faced loss, you couldn’t even start to imagine how it felt to lose everyone you knew all at once.
It still stings though. A small selfish part of you wants to yell at him that it's all pointless, that he’d die before he ever got to see the family he could rebuild, hopefully with you, somewhere soft and light in the blanket of snow, building an igloo with rough mittens and sweet laughter, rosy cheeks and kisses.
But you know Makima is right, she usually is. With her gentle voice she corrects you into the correct posture, the correct penmanship, the correct wording. She knows how you work as much as she knows how everyone else works, a clockmaker setting her gears. And she knows Aki best of all, longer than you having worked with him for years. An eternity in this line of work.
So she must be right, but it still hurts a little, a lump welling in your neck.
“...I know.” You say, a little quietly, defeated. “It’s not like I…”
Like you’d try really. Aside from soft hellos and the occasional coffee you get him it's not like you’ve actively tried to get his attention. More so just brushed past his peripheral.
Makima seems to hear your unheard words, though she always does somehow. “I know. You’re a smart girl.” She says softly reaching out slowly. You don’t register the cool of her palm against your cheek until it's already pressed against you, soft and slow.
“A pretty one too. He really doesn’t know anything does he?” She says sympathetically, and you feel your eyes burn for a moment as you find yourself sinking your weight against her hand. It feels warm, good even. It’s like a lullaby being sung to you through the rhythmic stroking of her thumb against your cheek and you close your eyes for a moment.
And then you jolt up, your eyes snapping open as you look up at her, your chair screeching for a moment against the wood floor, making you cringe slightly. This is your boss, your dear friend, what the hell are you thinking? You must be out of your mind, and you feel your cheeks flush as you attempt to clear your throat, though a part of you whines at the loss of her touch.
“Ahem– Makima-san, I understand your concern, but I’m fine.” You say, hesitating before fiddling with the sleeves of her jacket nervously. “It’s not like I don’t know how it is working here…”
Makima studies you for a moment, tilting her head to the side, before she slowly retracts her hand, smiling in that vague way that makes you feel mildly disconcerted. “Of course, just looking out for you, little one.” She says, her voice soft like wind chimes, and you feel a shiver build up.
Little one. It should feel condescending, it is condescending. But coming from her lips, anything would sound reassuring. Ironically, that’s something that should put more people on guard.
“I appreciate it.” You say, averting your eyes to the desk before looking back up, pressing your lips together. “But you’re not getting out of paperwork Makima-san.”
She smiles this time, something genuinely amused and fond and it settles something within you. It’s just Makima, your silly boss who pokes fun at you, the thought is grounding.
“Too smart. I guess I have no choice but to work.” She sighs as she pads back to her desk dramatically.
You smile to yourself as you duck your head and go back to your work, sorting through files and organizing reports, the familiar rhythm of the room coming back in taps and pen clicks, scribbles and the soft sound of a clock ticking.
Focused on your work, you don’t even realize the incriminating paper missing from your desk.
—
By the end of the day, the evening glow of the sun paints the room and you feel like you’re about to fall asleep at your desk. You’ve had the worst shrimp posture at your desk and you’re now paying the price for it, wincing slightly as you straighten up.
As always Maikima is impeccably straightened up, with an elegance to her that again makes you nothing less than jealous and you wonder how she's just so perfect all the time before you recall that she’s not and you’re being ridiculous.
“You’re staring.” She says amused, turning from the window to look at you, and you think she might have eyes in the back of her head before you realize she just saw your reflection in the glass.
Flushing you look down, trying to think of an excuse but ending up blurting the only thing on your mind. “My back hurts and I’m jealous.”
Makima laughs, a light tinkling thing that sends goosebumps running up your arms for a moment and you feel mildly annoyed at your body’s responses to her just existing. You wish you could just hate her sometimes, it would be far less perplexing.
“Poor baby.” She teases and you scrunch your nose up at her.
“Don’t make fun of me, my back feels like it's been fractured.” You whine. Never in your life did you think you’d whine about anything, but Makima’s always made you feel safe enough to let loose a little, even if you get embarrassed by yourself afterwards.
“I’m not making fun of you.” She says, her smile widening as she beckons you with one slender finger. “Come here.”
Normally, you think you’d hesitate, but you’re tired and she’s smiling at you in a way that makes your brain go fuzzy so your legs move before you can stop yourself. The back of her coat you’re still wearing brushes against the back of your bare legs as you’d long since kicked your stockings off in the comfort of Makima’s office.
“What?” You ask when you reach her desk, and she pulls herself up from her chair gracefully and approaches you. She reaches out your hand and you blush slightly as her hand brushes against yours before wrapping around your wrist.
“Sit.” She says gesturing to her chair.
“Hm?” You hum, a little stunned. You don’t think you’ve seen anyone else sit in her chair and you can hardly process her request.
“Sit.” She says simply. “Sideways preferably.”
Blankly, you stare at her again. You can’t comprehend exactly why she’s directing you to do so, but you find your body moving forward again without question as you perch yourself on the chair. “Okay, can you tell me what–” You cut yourself off as you feel her hands place themselves on your back, feeling her cool skin through your dress shirt and jerking in surprise.
“Wha– Makima-san?!” You fumble out, but she’s already started on kneading the skin of your back, pressing into all the sore spots that have you melting in her hands. Her hands work expertly at the knots in your back, and you find yourself wondering how she’s even good at this.
“What’s this for?” You ask, a little dazed.
“For your back.” She responds simply and you would roll your eyes but she presses a spot that makes you sigh in relief and you forget about your annoyance for a moment. Her hands feel so good, like they’re slowly heating up, and your head feels so dizzy you just want to give in to whatever she tells you.
“You’re weird.” You just say, a little giggle leaving your lips. It almost stuns you for a moment, you don’t think you’ve giggled even around Aki, not like this girlish and almost flustered. You think it must just be because Makima is a dear female friend.
But… you suddenly don’t feel so sure about that.
“...Makima-san…?” You ask drowsily.
“Mmh?” She hums, right next to your ear and you shiver slightly at the proximity.
“I think… I should go home.” You murmur.
“Home?” She asks sweetly. “I think you just need a nap.”
A nap yes, a nap is what you need, and you’re so dizzy you don’t even process the way that she gently scoops you up, in a way that seems almost impossible for her stature and gently settles you into her lap, tucking your head under her neck and looping her hand around your waist. You can’t help but relax into her, even though there’s a small part of your mind that’s still baffled.
Why is this even happening? Is this even okay? You’ve cuddled with your close female friends before, but was this really okay with someone like your boss?
“Makima… this… isn’t this a little informal?” You weakly question though you’re already surrendering to the feeling of her body pressed against yours, her soft curves pressing into you, her scent even stronger now with her so close.
She just laughs, that soft tinkling thing. “We’re past that point aren’t we?”
You’re not sure if you were, this all feels a bit off, in a way you can’t really explain but it seems like there’s something on the tip of your tongue, you tell her that blearily, the words a little slurred.
“On the tip of your tongue hmm? Can I see?” She asks. Before you even process it, your mouth is parting for her, your tongue, pink and glistening sliding out at attention for her.
You think either your eyes are blurry or her eyes are blurry, but you see something in them darken and she reaches out with her hand, her thumb hooking on your lower lip and tugging it down to see further. A protested noise escapes your lips and you try to speak with your still open mouth.
“Ahhkkia?” You try, and before you know it, the thumb is out of your mouth and replaced with her lips. For a moment, everything goes blissfully blank. She tilts your head to get better access and you find yourself angled for her to lick into your mouth, tasting you as you taste her.
She tastes like something sweet and floral and entirely too much, it makes you mewl into her, a pleased hum of her own leaving her in return. It feels good, especially since she’s so soft, her lips perfectly moist and smooth, sliding against yours.
Numbness on your lips… you can feel the numbness, as if you’re drunk, drunk on her kisses, drunk on her lips. A dizzy feeling sets in, breathy gasps escaping your lips, and you’re not sure when exactly you felt so… out of control…
It’s different from anything else you’ve felt. Than anyone else you’ve kissed, though that might be because everyone before was a man.
A man. Like Aki. You’re kissing her. Your boss, her.
“Mmhmm—!” A muffled noise does its best to escape your lips, which feel muddled and sticky and impossibly good as you try to paw at her chest, before moving to press on her shoulders weakly, head spinning.
“Mmh— Makima— we shouldn’t—” You try to protest as you pull away for a moment gasping for air.
She doesn’t seem to hear you though, chasing after your lips and pressing her sweet dizzying kiss to your lips again, her hands moving to shift you over to face her as they grab your waist. Another muffled noise leaves you, but you can’t really pay attention to what you were even thinking about in the first place.
Her tongue is warm and it flicks into your mouth like it owns the area, you’ve never felt this softly debauched before and you find yourself melting again before you pull away with a wet smack that echoes in the room.
“N–no, we can’t–” You blubber out, your face burning as you open your closed eyes. It’s not like you even know when they closed. Just that they did.
She stares at you for a moment, taking in your breathless disheveled form in her coat. “Because I’m your boss?” She asks patiently, wiping the spit from the side of your mouth.
“N–no, well– yes! But–” You fumble with your words, unable to put your thoughts into words.
She looks at you for a moment before cupping your cheek, something soft and tender that nearly brings tears to your eyes.
“Because we’re both girls?” She probes gently and you feel the tears sting as you nod slowly.
“Oh sweetheart.” She coos softly. “You could be anyone in the world, and I’d still want you all to myself.”
You do cry a little this time, tears slipping down your face as you sniffle. That’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said and it comforts you enough that you can barely hear the voice in your head nagging at you that something is wrong. You’re so happy that she accepts you, you’d do anything for her.
“Mmhh–” You sniffle out and she soothes you with a peck on the lips. Which leads to another and another, and another, and you’re back to making out again, this time her hands pawing at your shirt and pushing it up to feel the skin underneath.
Her hands are so soft, it feels like magic when she touches you, something soft and feminine that you think you’ve been missing for your entire life. You hover uncertainly with your hands for a moment, unsure where to put them on her. Did you also put them on her waist?
She laughs and pulls back from your waist to move your hands to her chest.
“Just feel.” She murmurs before pressing kisses down your jaw to your neck, nipping and sucking in a way that makes you melt.
You sigh softly and tentatively press your hands against her chest, not squeezing, just mapping her out softly and tracing her through the fabric of her shirt. She’s so soft, soft and pretty and you whimper.
“So gentle. You’re just the sweetest.” She murmurs, sucking down on a spot that makes you whine.
“Mhh– n–not–” You try to protest, but her hands move down to slip under your skirt, the removed stockings giving her direct access to the cute pair of panties you’d put on for the day.
“Oh? Lace? Were you expecting me?” She asks teasingly, flicking her finger up against your folds and making you jerk up.
Why did you put them on? Well, you weren’t sure, but you think it must have just been for her. That you must have wanted her to touch you like this.
“Oh– God–” You whine out rocking your hips against her hand accidentally, your face falls into her neck mewling against her skin.
“Sensitive.” She murmurs, dragging her fingers against your panties from your folds to your clit. Her thumb brushes over your clit in a way that makes you keen and she laughs breathlessly. “And so wet.”
You whimper in embarrassment and paw at her chest again, trying to will her to shut up, but she just presses her fingers against the soaking core of your panties and curls her fingers up into you, pressing your warm cloth into you and you bite into the collar of her shirt when your walls clench around it.
“I bet those men before had no idea what they were doing with you. Poor girl, you needed a woman to show you what you were missing.” She whispers, grabbing the back of your hair and pulling your head up. The slight pain is almost delicious and you gasp out loud.
“Bet they just pull at the ends don’t they? They don’t know how to grab you.” She whispers and you rock your hips against her fingers again in agreement.
“Oh– Makima– I need to– please–” You fumble out.
“I know.” She shushes you. “I’ll take care of you, better than anyone else ever could.”
Her fingers hook into your panties and instead of pulling him down, she rips them directly in half with her fingers. The air hits your exposed cunt and you mewl, pressing your lips onto hers again desperately.
She makes a slightly surprised noise but hums in agreement, her finger slowly pushing into you. You gasp into her mouth as her fingers sink in, plunging slowly into your drooling lips and finally hitting that spot her long fingers reach, the one that makes you wail into her mouth.
Her fingers slowly piston in and out, starting to pick up speed with a wet noise louder than your own muffled noises and you feel somewhat embarrassed. Every time she pulls them out only to plunge back in, the sensation makes a warm coil pull taut within you.
“Fuck– more– please–” You whine against her lips as you break away, wanting to feel more and more of her softness. She obliges with a small smirk a third finger reaching in to stretch you out further.
The sound you make is unlike any sound you’ve made before, halfway between a yelp and a squeal, your eyes rolling back slightly as you feel her fingers all hit that spot that makes you dizzy.
“Ah– Makimaaah–!” You manage to get out, before something in her snaps (possibly the sound of her name on your lips) and all of a sudden you’re getting brutally pounded into, all of her earlier attempts of being gentle flying completely out the window as she has her sights set on making you call out his name again and again.
The sounds of the room are only filled with panting, pitched noises and loud moans, punctuated by the squelching of her thrusting into you over and over again, your eyes only vaguely focused on the beautiful sight of her dark eyes taking you in like a trophy.
You should feel disturbed, but instead you’re drunk with pleasure, your mouth messy and wet and pleading.
“Oh– Maki– Maki– Maki–” You chant as you reach the peak of your pleasure and you nearly sob when she starts slowing down. “Nooo! Makimaaaa!” You whine out, louder than anything you’ve let out before and something in her face twitches.
She curls her fingers then and you let out a breathless scream as you cum violently on her fingers. Your eyes blank for a moment as if refusing to work and you only come too after she’s pulled her fingers back out, inspecting the webbing between them.
An embarrassed whine leaves you, and Makima looks at you dead in the eyes before licking up the essence from her fingers. Your walls flutter weakly in response and you rest against her exhausted and boneless.
“‘S– can’t–” You mumble into her, exhausted.
“Mhm, I know, just rest.” She whispers to you and you doze off, tucked into her neck as she presses a kiss to the top of your head.
—
Makima wasn’t expecting it to be so much work. She thought you’d fall right into her lap, like everyone else. Or for you to just be jealous and simply just despise her.
But you were just so cute, punishing yourself for nothing, keeping friendly to her even when she tried to piss you off on purpose. She thought it might be an act, but you truly were just that sincere, and for it to be wasted on Hayakawa?
And though Makima had no concept of shame herself, she thinks it’d be a shame. Naturally she shredded that stupid little drawing, as cute as it was much like everything you did. You could draw her a new one after all, with something far more appealing as a subject preferably.
If only you weren’t so stubborn about it. She didn’t think she’d have to use so much energy on the matter.
Not that she’d regret it. No, Makima never regretted anything, except maybe the idea that she should have done this sooner.
thinking of that one quote 'we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. we are good people, and we have suffered enough.'
imagine homura and madoka, on the ground, in their last moments talking about the end of the world.
tw: heavy angst
'..this is it? this is how it ends?'
'..i think so.' madoka managed a soft smile. '..its not all bad though.'
'..how? the world, us, you- you're dying. madoka, you are dying- how on earth is that not all bad?' homura's voice cracked.
'..well, we are together, arent we? neither of us deserved this, but then again.. neither of us have to go on anymore. this is it... the good end. ..in an odd way, its peaceful, isnt it?' madoka took homura's hand, leaning into her own free one to let out a bloody cough. '..we die together, with the world's ending as our final symphony.'
homura didn't know what to say.
'..do you hear that?' madoka looked up at the red, ash stained sky. '..i think thats sayaka. shes conducting our finale, isnt that wonderful?'
'madoka, what-' homura's voice broke as she looked at her beloved, teary eyed.
'..its over.' madoka whispered. '..its all over. we're free, homura. we're free.' she smiled, closing her eyes. '..i know its a lot to ask, but.. can you meet me in heaven again? one last time, for our forever?'
'madoka-' homura felt a tear drop down her cheek. she watched as madoka's chest slowed its rise and fall to lay down gently.
and yet, with it all, she couldnt join madoka. not like this.
'..im sorry.' homura sobbed. 'im so, so sorry.'
she unfurled her shield, closing her eyes as she couldnt help the cries that wracked her chest.
'i promise- i promise ill make things right, ill give you the soft epilogue you deserve- ill fix this- i-' homura whimpered, her fingers trembling as she moved to undo time.
Madoka's the Protagonist of PMMM because of Homura's Love
Everyday I think about how much Homura loved Madoka and today I thought about this.
Madoka is the protagonist of PMMM, obviously, her name is in the title and everything. But like, PMMM, despite that, is very much Homura's story. It's her story of loving someone so much that she was willing to do anything to keep her alive and her pain and her love. And I think that Homura was originally the protagonist of this story, but then she changed it. Because of the time loops.
Homura loved Madoka so much that she looped time over and over again and made Madoka the Most Important Person in the universe, because the idea of losing her was too great for her to stand, so she just,,, turned back time so it wouldn't happen. And she did that over and over and over, we all know this, Madoka just holds so much weight and potential in the universe.
And like, episode 10, is Homura's episode. It's from her perspective it's about how and why she did what she did and it's from before the timeloops began. She's the central character because she hasn't made Madoka the center of the universe yet, or the center of the story.
Basically, Homura loved Madoka so much that she affected the fabric of the entire story, removing herself as protag like in the flashbacks and making Madoka protag as a result of making her the most important person in the universe.
